note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) clover by susan coolidge author of "what katy did," "mischief's thanksgiving," "nine little goslings," etc. illustrated by jessie mcdermot boston little, brown, and company alfred mudge & son, inc., printers, boston, mass., u.s.a. contents chapter i. a talk on the doorsteps ii. the day of happy letters iii. the first wedding in the family iv. two long years in one short chapter v. car forty-seven vi. st. helen's vii. making acquaintance viii. high valley ix. over a pass x. no. piute street xi. the last of the clover-leaves chapter i. a talk on the doorsteps. it was one of those afternoons in late april which are as mild and balmy as any june day. the air was full of the chirps and twitters of nest-building birds, and of sweet indefinable odors from half-developed leaf-buds and cherry and pear blossoms. the wisterias overhead were thickly starred with pointed pearl-colored sacs, growing purpler with each hour, which would be flowers before long; the hedges were quickening into life, the long pensile willow-boughs and the honey-locusts hung in a mist of fine green against the sky, and delicious smells came with every puff of wind from the bed of white violets under the parlor windows. katy and clover carr, sitting with their sewing on the door-steps, drew in with every breath the sense of spring. who does not know the delightfulness of that first sitting out of doors after a long winter's confinement? it seems like flinging the gauntlet down to the powers of cold. hope and renovation are in the air. life has conquered death, and to the happy hearts in love with life there is joy in the victory. the two sisters talked busily as they sewed, but all the time an only half-conscious rapture informed their senses,--the sympathy of that which is immortal in human souls with the resurrection of natural things, which is the sure pledge of immortality. it was nearly a year since katy had come back from that too brief journey to europe with mrs. ashe and amy, about which some of you have read, and many things of interest to the carr family had happened during the interval. the "natchitoches" had duly arrived in new york in october, and presently afterward burnet was convulsed by the appearance of a tall young fellow in naval uniform, and the announcement of katy's engagement to lieutenant worthington. it was a piece of news which interested everybody in the little town, for dr. carr was a universal friend and favorite. for a time he had been the only physician in the place; and though with the gradual growth of population two or three younger men had appeared to dispute the ground with him, they were forced for the most part to content themselves with doctoring the new arrivals, and with such fragments and leavings of practice as dr. carr chose to intrust to them. none of the old established families would consent to call in any one else if they could possibly get the "old" doctor. a skilful practitioner, who is at the same time a wise adviser, a helpful friend, and an agreeable man, must necessarily command a wide influence. dr. carr was "by all odds and far away," as our english cousins would express it, the most popular person in burnet, wanted for all pleasant occasions, and doubly wanted for all painful ones. so the news of katy's engagement was made a matter of personal concern by a great many people, and caused a general stir, partly because she was her father's daughter, and partly because she was herself; for katy had won many friends by her own merit. so long as ned worthington stayed, a sort of tide of congratulation and sympathy seemed to sweep through the house all day long. tea-roses and chrysanthemums, and baskets of pears and the beautiful burnet grapes flooded the premises, and the door-bell rang so often that clover threatened to leave the door open, with a card attached,--"walk straight in. _he_ is in the parlor!" everybody wanted to see and know katy's lover, and to have him as a guest. ten tea-drinkings a week would scarcely have contented katy's well-wishers, had the limitations of mortal weeks permitted such a thing; and not a can of oysters would have been left in the place if lieutenant worthington's leave had lasted three days longer. clover and elsie loudly complained that they themselves never had a chance to see him; for whenever he was not driving or walking with katy, or having long _tête-à-têtes_ in the library, he was eating muffins somewhere, or making calls on old ladies whose feelings would be dreadfully hurt if he went away without their seeing him. "sisters seem to come off worst of all," protested johnnie. but in spite of their lamentations they all saw enough of their future brother-in-law to grow fond of him; and notwithstanding some natural pangs of jealousy at having to share katy with an outsider, it was a happy visit, and every one was sorry when the leave of absence ended, and ned had to go away. a month later the "natchitoches" sailed for the bahamas. it was to be a six months' cruise only; and on her return she was for a while to make part of the home squadron. this furnished a good opportunity for her first lieutenant to marry; so it was agreed that the wedding should take place in june, and katy set about her preparations in the leisurely and simple fashion which was characteristic of her. she had no ambition for a great _trousseau_, and desired to save her father expense; so her outfit, as compared with that of most modern brides, was a very moderate one, but being planned and mostly made at home, it necessarily involved thought, time, and a good deal of personal exertion. dear little clover flung herself into the affair with even more interest than if it had been her own. many happy mornings that winter did the sisters spend together over their dainty stitches and "white seam." elsie and johnnie were good needle-women now, and could help in many ways. mrs. ashe often joined them; even amy could contribute aid in the plainer sewing, and thread everybody's needles. but the most daring and indefatigable of all was clover, who never swerved in her determination that katy's "things" should be as nice and as pretty as love and industry combined could make them. her ideas as to decoration soared far beyond katy's. she hem-stitched, she cat-stitched, she feather-stitched, she lace-stitched, she tucked and frilled and embroidered, and generally worked her fingers off; while the bride vainly protested that all this finery was quite unnecessary, and that simple hems and a little hamburg edging would answer just as well. clover merely repeated the words, "hamburg edging!" with an accent of scorn, and went straight on in her elected way. as each article received its last touch, and came from the laundry white and immaculate, it was folded to perfection, tied with a narrow blue or pale rose-colored ribbon, and laid aside in a sacred receptacle known as "the wedding bureau." the handkerchiefs, grouped in dozens, were strewn with dried violets and rose-leaves to make them sweet. lavender-bags and sachets of orris lay among the linen; and perfumes as of araby were discernible whenever a drawer in the bureau was pulled out. so the winter passed, and now spring was come; and the two girls on the doorsteps were talking about the wedding, which seemed very near now. "tell me just what sort of an affair you want it to be," said clover. "it seems more your wedding than mine, you have worked so hard for it," replied katy. "you might give your ideas first." "my ideas are not very distinct. it's only lately that i have begun to think about it at all, there has been so much to do. i'd like to have you have a beautiful dress and a great many wedding-presents and everything as pretty as can be, but not so many bridesmaids as cecy, because there is always such a fuss in getting them nicely up the aisle in church and out again,--that is as far as i've got. but so long as you are pleased, and it goes off well, i don't care exactly how it is managed." "then, since you are in such an accommodating frame of mind, it seems a good time to break my views to you. don't be shocked, clovy; but, do you know, i don't want to be married in church at all, or to have any bridesmaids, or anything arranged for beforehand particularly. i should like things to be simple, and to just _happen_." "but, katy, you can't do it like that. it will all get into a snarl if there is no planning beforehand or rehearsals; it would be confused and horrid." "i don't see why it would be confused if there were nothing to confuse. please not be vexed; but i always have hated the ordinary kind of wedding, with its fuss and worry and so much of everything, and just like all the other weddings, and the bride looking tired to death, and nobody enjoying it a bit. i'd like mine to be different, and more--more--real. i don't want any show or processing about, but just to have things nice and pretty, and all the people i love and who love me to come to it, and nothing cut and dried, and nobody tired, and to make it a sort of dear, loving occasion, with leisure to realize how dear it is and what it all means. don't you think it would really be nicer in that way?" "well, yes, as you put it, and 'viewed from the higher standard,' as miss inches would say, perhaps it would. still, bridesmaids and all that are very pretty to look at; and folks will be surprised if you don't have them." "never mind folks," remarked the irreverent katy. "i don't care a button for that argument. yes; bridesmaids and going up the aisle in a long procession and all the rest _are_ pretty to look at,--or were before they got to be so hackneyed. i can imagine the first bridal procession up the aisle of some early cathedral as having been perfectly beautiful. but nowadays, when the butcher and baker and candlestick-maker and everybody else do it just alike, the custom seems to me to have lost its charm. i never did enjoy having things exactly as every one else has them,--all going in the same direction like a flock of sheep. i would like my little wedding to be something especially my own. there was a poetical meaning in those old customs; but now that the custom has swallowed up so much of the meaning, it would please me better to retain the meaning and drop the custom." "i see what you mean," said clover, not quite convinced, but inclined as usual to admire katy and think that whatever she meant must be right. "but tell me a little more. you mean to have a wedding-dress, don't you?" doubtfully. "yes, indeed!" "have you thought what it shall be?" "do you recollect that beautiful white crape shawl of mamma's which papa gave me two years ago? it has a lovely wreath of embroidery round it; and it came to me the other day that it would make a charming gown, with white surah or something for the under-dress. i should like that better than anything new, because mamma used to wear it, and it would seem as if she were here still, helping me to get ready. don't you think so?" "it is a lovely idea," said clover, the ever-ready tears dimming her happy blue eyes for a moment, "and just like you. yes, that shall be the dress,--dear mamma's shawl. it will please papa too, i think, to have you choose it." "i thought perhaps it would," said katy, soberly. "then i have a wide white watered sash which aunt izzy gave me, and i mean to have that worked into the dress somehow. i should like to wear something of hers too, for she was really good to us when we were little, and all that long time that i was ill; and we were not always good to her, i am afraid. poor aunt izzy! what troublesome little wretches we were,--i most of all!" "were you? somehow i never can recollect the time when you were not a born angel. i am afraid i don't remember aunt izzy well. i just have a vague memory of somebody who was pretty strict and cross." "ah, you never had a back, and needed to be waited on night and day, or you would recollect a great deal more than that. cousin helen helped me to appreciate what aunt izzy really was. by the way, one of the two things i have set my heart on is to have cousin helen come to my wedding." "it would be lovely if she could. do you suppose there is any chance?" "i wrote her week before last, but she hasn't answered yet. of course it depends on how she is; but the accounts from her have been pretty good this year." "what is the other thing you have set your heart on? you said 'two.'" "the other is that rose red shall be here, and little rose. i wrote to her the other day also, and coaxed hard. wouldn't it be too enchanting? you know how we have always longed to have her in burnet; and if she could come now it would make everything twice as pleasant." "katy, what an enchanting thought!" cried clover, who had not seen rose since they all left hillsover. "it would be the greatest lark that ever was to have the roses. when do you suppose we shall hear? i can hardly wait, i am in such a hurry to have her say 'yes.'" "but suppose she says 'no'?" "i won't think of such a possibility. now go on. i suppose your principles don't preclude a wedding-cake?" "on the contrary, they include a great deal of wedding-cake. i want to send a box to everybody in burnet,--all the poor people, i mean, and the old people and the children at the home and those forlorn creatures at the poor-house and all papa's patients." "but, katy, that will cost a lot," objected the thrifty clover. "i know it; so we must do it in the cheapest way, and make the cake ourselves. i have aunt izzy's recipe, which is a very good one; and if we all take hold, it won't be such an immense piece of work. debby has quantities of raisins stoned already. she has been doing them in the evenings a few at a time for the last month. mrs. ashe knows a factory where you can get the little white boxes for ten dollars a thousand, and i have commissioned her to send for five hundred." "five hundred! what an immense quantity!" "yes; but there are all the hillsover girls to be remembered, and all our kith and kin, and everybody at the wedding will want one. i don't think it will be too many. oh, i have arranged it all in my mind. johnnie will slice the citron, elsie will wash the currants, debby measure and bake, alexander mix, you and i will attend to the icing, and all of us will cut it up." "alexander!" "alexander. he is quite pleased with the idea, and has constructed an implement--a sort of spade, cut out of new pine wood--for the purpose. he says it will be a sight easier than digging flower-beds. we will set about it next week; for the cake improves by keeping, and as it is the heaviest job we have to do, it will be well to get it out of the way early." "sha'n't you have a floral bell, or a bower to stand in, or something of that kind?" ventured clover, timidly. "indeed i shall not," replied katy. "i particularly dislike floral bells and bowers. they are next worst to anchors and harps and 'floral pillows' and all the rest of the dreadful things that they have at funerals. no, we will have plenty of fresh flowers, but not in stiff arrangements. i want it all to seem easy and to _be_ easy. don't look so disgusted, clovy." "oh, i'm not disgusted. it's your wedding. i want you to have everything in your own way." "it's everybody's wedding, i think," said katy, tenderly. "everybody is so kind about it. did you see the thing that polly sent this morning?" "no. it must have come after i went out. what was it?" "seven yards of beautiful nun's lace which she bought in florence. she says it is to trim a morning dress; but it's really too pretty. how dear polly is! she sends me something almost every day. i seem to be in her thoughts all the time. it is because she loves ned so much, of course; but it is just as kind of her." "i think she loves you almost as much as ned," said clover. "oh, she couldn't do that; ned is her only brother. there is amy at the gate now." it was a much taller amy than had come home from italy the year before who was walking toward them under the budding locust-boughs. roman fever had seemed to quicken and stimulate all amy's powers, and she had grown very fast during the past year. her face was as frank and childlike as ever, and her eyes as blue; but she was prettier than when she went to europe, for her cheeks were pink, and the mane of waving hair which framed them in was very becoming. the hair was just long enough now to touch her shoulders; it was turning brown as it lengthened, but the ends of the locks still shone with childish gold, and caught the sun in little shining rings as it filtered down through the tree branches. she kissed clover several times, and gave katy a long, close hug; then she produced a parcel daintily hid in silver paper. "tanta," she said,--this was a pet name lately invented for katy,--"here is something for you from mamma. it's something quite particular, i think, for mamma cried when she was writing the note; not a hard cry, you know, but just two little teeny-weeny tears in her eyes. she kept smiling, though, and she looked happy, so i guess it isn't anything very bad. she said i was to give it to you with her best, _best_ love." katy opened the parcel, and beheld a square veil of beautiful old blonde. the note said: this was my wedding-veil, dearest katy, and my mother wore it before me. it has been laid aside all these years with the idea that perhaps amy might want it some day; but instead i send it to you, without whom there would be no amy to wear this or anything else. i think it would please ned to see it on your head, and i know it would make me very happy; but if you don't feel like using it, don't mind for a moment saying so to your loving polly. [illustration: "katy opened the parcel, and beheld a square veil of beautiful old blonde."] katy handed the note silently to clover, and laid her face for a little while among the soft folds of the lace, about which a faint odor of roses hung like the breath of old-time and unforgotten loves and affections. "shall you?" queried clover, softly. "why, of course! doesn't it seem too sweet? both our mothers!" "there!" cried amy, "you are going to cry too, tanta! i thought weddings were nice funny things. i never supposed they made people feel badly. i sha'n't ever let mabel get married, i think. but she'll have to stay a little girl always in that case, for i certainly won't have her an old maid." "what do you know about old maids, midget?" asked clover. "why, miss clover, i have seen lots of them. there was that one at the pension suisse; you remember, tanta? and the two on the steamer when we came home. and there's miss fitz who made my blue frock; ellen said she was a regular old maid. i never mean to let mabel be like that." "i don't think there's the least danger," remarked katy, glancing at the inseparable mabel, who was perched on amy's arm, and who did not look a day older than she had done eighteen months previously. "amy, we're going to make wedding-cake next week,--heaps and heaps of wedding-cake. don't you want to come and help?" "why, of course i do. what fun! which day may i come?" the cake-making did really turn out fun. many hands made light work of what would have been a formidable job for one or two. it was all done gradually. johnnie cut the golden citron quarters into thin transparent slices in the sitting-room one morning while the others were sewing, and reading tennyson aloud. elsie and amy made a regular frolic of the currant-washing. katy, with debby's assistance, weighed and measured; and the mixture was enthusiastically stirred by alexander, with the "spade" which he had invented, in a large new wash-tub. then came the baking, which for two days filled the house with spicy, plum-puddingy odors; then the great feat of icing the big square loaves; and then the cutting up, in which all took part. there was much careful measurement that the slices might be an exact fit; and the kitchen rang with bright laughter and chat as katy and clover wielded the sharp bread-knives, and the others fitted the portions into their boxes, and tied the ribbons in crisp little bows. many delicious crumbs and odd corners and fragments fell to the share of the younger workers; and altogether the occasion struck amy as so enjoyable that she announced--with her mouth full--that she had changed her mind, and that mabel might get married as often as she pleased, if she would have cake like _that_ every time,--a liberality of permission which mabel listened to with her invariable waxen smile. when all was over, and the last ribbons tied, the hundreds of little boxes were stacked in careful piles on a shelf of the inner closet of the doctor's office to wait till they were wanted,--an arrangement which naughty clover pronounced eminently suitable, since there should always be a doctor close at hand where there was so much wedding-cake. but before all this was accomplished, came what katy, in imitation of one of miss edgeworth's heroines, called "the day of happy letters." chapter ii. the day of happy letters. the arrival of the morning boat with letters and newspapers from the east was the great event of the day in burnet. it was due at eleven o'clock; and everybody, consciously or unconsciously, was on the lookout for it. the gentlemen were at the office bright and early, and stood chatting with each other, and fingering the keys of their little drawers till the rattle of the shutter announced that the mail was distributed. their wives and daughters at home, meanwhile, were equally in a state of expectation, and whatever they might be doing kept ears and eyes on the alert for the step on the gravel and the click of the latch which betokened the arrival of the family news-bringer. doctors cannot command their time like other people, and dr. carr was often detained by his patients, and made late for the mail, so it was all the pleasanter a surprise when on the great day of the cake-baking he came in earlier than usual, with his hands quite full of letters and parcels. all the girls made a rush for him at once; but he fended them off with an elbow, while with teasing slowness he read the addresses on the envelopes. "miss carr--miss carr--miss katherine carr--miss carr again; four for you, katy. dr. p. carr,--a bill and a newspaper, i perceive; all that an old country doctor with a daughter about to be married ought to expect, i suppose. miss clover e. carr,--one for the 'confidante in white linen.' here, take it, clovy. miss carr again. katy, you have the lion's share. miss joanna carr,--in the unmistakable handwriting of miss inches. miss katherine carr, care dr. carr. that looks like a wedding present, katy. miss elsie carr; cecy's hand, i should say. miss carr once more,--from the conquering hero, judging from the post-mark. dr. carr,--another newspaper, and--hollo!--one more for miss carr. well, children, i hope for once you are satisfied with the amount of your correspondence. my arm fairly aches with the weight of it. i hope the letters are not so heavy inside as out." "i am quite satisfied, papa, thank you," said katy, looking up with a happy smile from ned's letter, which she had torn open first of all. "are you going, dear?" she laid her packages down to help him on with his coat. katy never forgot her father. "yes, i am going. time and rheumatism wait for no man. you can tell me your news when i come back." it is not fair to peep into love letters, so i will only say of ned's that it was very long, very entertaining,--katy thought,--and contained the pleasant information that the "natchitoches" was to sail four days after it was posted, and would reach new york a week sooner than any one had dared to hope. the letter contained several other things as well, which showed katy how continually she had been in his thoughts,--a painting on rice paper, a dried flower or two, a couple of little pen-and-ink sketches of the harbor of santa lucia and the shipping, and a small cravat of an odd convent lace folded very flat and smooth. altogether it was a delightful letter, and katy read it, as it were, in leaps, her eyes catching at the salient points, and leaving the details to be dwelt upon when she should be alone. this done, she thrust the letter into her pocket, and proceeded to examine the others. the first was in cousin helen's clear, beautiful handwriting:-- dear katy,--if any one had told us ten years ago that in this particular year of grace you would be getting ready to be married, and i preparing to come to your wedding, i think we should have listened with some incredulity, as to an agreeable fairy tale which could not possibly come true. we didn't look much like it, did we,--you in your big chair and i on my sofa? yet here we are! when your letter first reached me it seemed a sort of impossible thing that i should accept your invitation; but the more i thought about it the more i felt as if i must, and now things seem to be working round to that end quite marvellously. i have had a good winter, but the doctor wishes me to try the experiment of the water cure again which benefited me so much the summer of your accident. this brings me in your direction; and i don't see why i might not come a little earlier than i otherwise should, and have the great pleasure of seeing you married, and making acquaintance with lieutenant worthington. that is, if you are perfectly sure that to have at so busy a time a guest who, like the queen of spain, has the disadvantage of being without legs, will not be more care than enjoyment. think seriously over this point, and don't send for me unless you are certain. meanwhile, i am making ready. alex and emma and little helen--who is a pretty big helen now--are to be my escorts as far as buffalo on their way to niagara. after that is all plain sailing, and jane carter and i can manage very well for ourselves. it seems like a dream to think that i may see you all so soon; but it is such a pleasant one that i would not wake up on any account. i have a little gift which i shall bring you myself, my katy; but i have a fancy also that you shall wear some trifling thing on your wedding-day which comes from me, so for fear of being forestalled i will say now, please don't buy any stockings for the occasion, but wear the pair which go with this, for the sake of your loving cousin helen. "these must be they," cried elsie, pouncing on one of the little packages. "may i cut the string, katy?" permission was granted; and elsie cut the string. it was indeed a pair of beautiful white silk stockings embroidered in an open pattern, and far finer than anything which katy would have thought of choosing for herself. "don't they look exactly like cousin helen?" she said, fondling them. "her things always are choicer and prettier than anybody's else, somehow. i can't think how she does it, when she never by any chance goes into a shop. who can this be from, i wonder?" "this" was the second little package. it proved to contain a small volume bound in white and gold, entitled, "advice to brides." on the fly-leaf appeared this inscription:-- to katherine carr, on the occasion of her approaching bridal, from her affectionate teacher, marianne nipson. timothy, ii. . clover at once ran to fetch her testament that she might verify the quotation, and announced with a shriek of laughter that it was: "let the women learn in silence with all subjection;" while katy, much diverted, read extracts casually selected from the work, such as: "a wife should receive her husband's decree without cavil or question, remembering that the husband is the head of the wife, and that in all matters of dispute his opinion naturally and scripturally outweighs her own." or: "'a soft answer turneth away wrath.' if your husband comes home fretted and impatient, do not answer him sharply, but soothe him with gentle words and caresses. strict attention to the minor details of domestic management will often avail to secure peace." and again: "keep in mind the epitaph raised in honor of an exemplary wife of the last century,--'she never banged the door.' qualify yourself for a similar testimonial." "tanta never does bang doors," remarked amy, who had come in as this last "elegant extract" was being read. "no, that's true; she doesn't," said clover. "her prevailing vice is to leave them open. i like that truth about a good dinner 'availing' to secure peace, and the advice to 'caress' your bear when he is at his crossest. ned never does issue 'decrees,' though, i fancy; and on the whole, katy, i don't believe mrs. nipson's present is going to be any particular comfort in your future trials. do read something else to take the taste out of our mouths. we will listen in 'all subjection.'" katy was already deep in a long epistle from rose. "this is too delicious," she said; "do listen." and she began again at the beginning:-- my sweetest of all old sweets,--come to your wedding! of course i shall. it would never seem to me to have any legal sanction whatever if i were not there to add my blessing. only let me know which day "early in june" it is to be, that i may make ready. deniston will fetch us on, and by a special piece of good luck, a man in chicago--whose name i shall always bless if only i can remember what it is--has been instigated by our mutual good angel to want him on business just about that time; so that he would have to go west anyway, and would rather have me along than not, and is perfectly resigned to his fate. i mean to come three days before, and stay three days after the wedding, if i may, and altogether it is going to be a lark of larks. little rose can talk quite fluently now, and almost read; that is, she knows six letters of her picture alphabet. she composes poems also. the other day she suddenly announced,-- "mamma, i have made up a sort of a im. may i say it to you?" i naturally consented, and this was the im. jump in the parlor, jump in the hall, god made us all! now did you ever hear of anything quite so dear as that, for a baby only three years and five months old? i tell you she is a wonder. you will all adore her, clover particularly. oh, my dear little c.! to think i am going to see her! i met both ellen gray and esther dearborn the other day, and where do you think it was? at mary silver's wedding! yes, she is actually married to the rev. charles playfair strothers, and settled in a little parsonage somewhere in the hoosac tunnel,--or near it,--and already immersed in "duties." i can't think what arguments he used to screw her up to the rash act; but there she is. it wasn't exactly what one would call a cheerful wedding. all the connection took it very seriously; and mary's uncle, who married her, preached quite a lengthy funeral discourse to the young couple, and got them nicely ready for death, burial, and the next world, before he would consent to unite them for this. he was a solemn-looking old person, who had been a missionary, and "had laid away three dear wives in foreign lands," as he confided to me afterward over a plate of ice-cream. he seemed to me to be "taking notice," as they say of babies, and it is barely possible that he mistook me for a single woman, for his attentions were rather pronounced till i introduced my husband prominently into conversation; after that he seemed more attracted by ellen gray. mary cried straight through the ceremony. in fact, i imagine she cried straight through the engagement, for her eyes looked wept out and had scarlet rims, and she was as white as her veil. in fact, whiter, for that was made of beautiful _point de venise_, and was just a trifle yellowish. everybody cried. her mother and sister sobbed aloud, so did several maiden aunts and a grandmother or two and a few cousins. the church resounded with guggles and gasps, like a great deal of bath-water running out of an ill-constructed tub. mr. silver also wept, as a business man may, in a series of sniffs interspersed with silk handkerchief; you know the kind. altogether it was a most cheerless affair. i seemed to be the only person present who was not in tears; but i really didn't see anything to cry about, so far as i was concerned, though i felt very hard-hearted. i had to go alone, for deniston was in new york. i got to the church rather early, and my new spring bonnet--which is a superior one--seemed to impress the ushers, so they put me in a very distinguished front pew all by myself. i bore my honors meekly, and found them quite agreeable, in fact,--you know i always did like to be made much of,--so you can imagine my disgust when presently three of the stoutest ladies you ever saw came sailing up the aisle, and prepared to invade _my_ pew. "please move up, madam," said the fattest of all, who wore a wonderful yellow hat. but i was not "raised" at hillsover for nothing, and remembering the success of our little ruse on the railroad train long ago, i stepped out into the aisle, and with my sweetest smile made room for them to pass. "perhaps i would better keep the seat next the door," i murmured to the yellow lady, "in case an attack should come on." "an attack!" she repeated in an accent of alarm. she whispered to the others. all three eyed me suspiciously, while i stood looking as pensive and suffering as i could. then after confabulating together for a little, they all swept into the seat behind mine, and i heard them speculating in low tones as to whether it was epilepsy or catalepsy or convulsions that i was subject to. i presume they made signs to all the other people who came in to steer clear of the lady with fits, for nobody invaded my privacy, and i sat in lonely splendor with a pew to myself, and was very comfortable indeed. mary's dress was white satin, with a great deal of point lace and pearl passementerie, and she wore a pair of diamond ear-rings which her father gave her, and a bouquet almost but not quite as large, which was the gift of the bridegroom. he has a nice face, and i think silvery mary will be happy with him, much happier than with her rather dismal family, though his salary is only fifteen hundred a year, and pearl passementerie, i believe, quite unknown and useless in the hoosac region. she had loads of the most beautiful presents you ever saw. all the silvers are rolling in riches, you know. one little thing made me laugh, for it was so like her. when the clergyman said, "mary, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband?" i distinctly saw her put her fingers over her mouth in the old, frightened way. it was only for a second, and after that i rather think mr. strothers held her hand tight for fear she might do it again. she sent her love to you, katy. what sort of a gown are _you_ going to have, by the way? i have kept my best news to the last, which is that deniston has at last given way, and we are to move into town in october. we have taken a little house in west cedar street. it is quite small and very dingy and i presume inconvenient, but i already love it to distraction, and feel as if i should sit up all night for the first month to enjoy the sensation of being no longer that horrid thing, a resident of the suburbs. i hunt the paper shops and collect samples of odd and occult pattern, and compare them with carpets, and am altogether in my element, only longing for the time to come when i may put together my pots and pans and betake me across the mill-dam. meantime, roslein is living in a state of quarantine. she is not permitted to speak with any other children, or even to look out of window at one, for fear she may contract some sort of contagious disease, and spoil our beautiful visit to burnet. she sends you a kiss, and so do i; and mother and sylvia and deniston and grandmamma, particularly, desire their love. your loving rose red. "oh," cried clover, catching katy round the waist, and waltzing wildly about the room, "what a delicious letter! what fun we are going to have! it seems too good to be true. tum-ti-ti, tum-ti-ti. keep step, katy. i forgive you for the first time for getting married. i never did before, really and truly. tum-ti-ti; i am so happy that i must dance!" "there go my letters," said katy, as with the last rapid twirl, rose's many-sheeted epistle and the "advice to brides" flew to right and left. "there go two of your hair-pins, clover. oh, do stop; we shall all be in pieces." clover brought her gyrations to a close by landing her unwilling partner suddenly on the sofa. then with a last squeeze and a rapid kiss she began to pick up the scattered letters. "now read the rest," she commanded, "though anything else will sound flat after rose's." "hear this first," said elsie, who had taken advantage of the pause to open her own letter. "it is from cecy, and she says she is coming to spend a month with her mother on purpose to be here for katy's wedding. she sends heaps of love to you, katy, and says she only hopes that mr. worthington will prove as perfectly satisfactory in all respects as her own dear sylvester." "my gracious, i should hope he would," put in clover, who was still in the wildest spirits. "what a dear old goose cecy is! i never hankered in the least for sylvester slack, did you, katy?" "certainly not. it would be a most improper proceeding if i had," replied katy, with a laugh. "whom do you think this letter is from, girls? do listen to it. it's written by that nice old mr. allen beach, whom we met in london. don't you recollect my telling you about him?" my dear miss carr,--our friends in harley street have told me a piece of news concerning you which came to them lately in a letter from mrs. ashe, and i hope you will permit me to offer you my most sincere congratulations and good wishes. i recollect meeting lieutenant worthington when he was here two years ago, and liking him very much. one is always glad in a foreign land to be able to show so good a specimen of one's young countrymen as he affords,--not that england need be counted as a foreign country by any american, and least of all by myself, who have found it a true home for so many years. as a little souvenir of our week of sight-seeing together, of which i retain most agreeable remembrances, i have sent you by my friends the sawyers, who sail for america shortly, a copy of hare's "walks in london," which a young _protégée_ of mine has for the past year been illustrating with photographs of the many curious old buildings described. you took so much interest in them while here that i hope you may like to see them again. will you please accept with it my most cordial wishes for your future, and believe me very faithfully your friend, allen beach. "what a nice letter!" said clover. "isn't it?" replied katy, with shining eyes, "what a thing it is to be a gentleman, and to know how to say and do things in the right way! i am so surprised and pleased that mr. beach should remember me. i never supposed he would, he sees so many people in london all the time, and it is quite a long time since we were there, nearly two years. was your letter from miss inches, john?" "yes, and mamma marian sends you her love; and there's a present coming by express for you,--some sort of a book with a hard name. i can scarcely make it out, the ru--ru--something of omar kay--y--well, anyway it's a book, and she hopes you will read emerson's 'essay on friendship' over before you are married, because it's a helpful utterance, and adjusts the mind to mutual conditions." "worse than timothy, ii. ," muttered clover. "well, katy dear, what next? what _are_ you laughing at?" "you will never guess, i am sure. this is a letter from miss jane! and she has made me this pincushion!" the pincushion was of a familiar type, two circles of pasteboard covered with gray silk, neatly over-handed together, and stuck with a row of closely fitting pins. miss jane's note ran as follows:-- hillsover, april . dear katy,--i hear from mrs. nipson that you are to be married shortly, and i want to say that you have my best wishes for your future. i think a man ought to be happy who has you for a wife. i only hope the one you have chosen is worthy of you. probably he isn't, but perhaps you won't find it out. life is a knotty problem for most of us. may you solve it satisfactorily to yourself and others! i have nothing to send but my good wishes and a few pins. they are not an unlucky present, i believe, as scissors are said to be. remember me to your sister, and believe me to be with true regard, yours, jane a. bangs. "dear me, is that her name?" cried clover. "i always supposed she was baptized 'miss jane.' it never occurred to me that she had any other title. what appropriate initials! how she used to j.a.b. with us!" "now, clovy, that's not kind. it's a very nice note indeed, and i am touched by it. it's a beautiful compliment to say that the man ought to be happy who has got me, i think. i never supposed that miss jane could pay a compliment." "or make a joke! that touch about the scissors is really jocose,--for miss jane. rose red will shriek over the letter and that particularly rigid pincushion. they are both of them so exactly like her. dear me! only one letter left. who is that from, katy? how fast one does eat up one's pleasures!" "but you had a letter yourself. surely papa said so. what was that? you haven't read it to us." "no, for it contains a secret which you are not to hear just yet," replied clover. "brides mustn't ask questions. go on with yours." "mine is from louisa agnew,--quite a long one, too. it's an age since we heard from her, you know." ashburn, april . dear katy,--your delightful letter and invitation came day before yesterday, and thank you for both. there is nothing in the world that would please me better than to come to your wedding if it were possible, but it simply isn't. if you lived in new haven now, or even boston,--but burnet is so dreadfully far off, it seems as inaccessible as kamchatka to a person who, like myself, has a house to keep and two babies to take care of. don't look so alarmed. the house is the same house you saw when you were here, and so is one of the babies; the other is a new acquisition just two years old, and as great a darling as daisy was at the same age. my mother has been really better in health since he came, but just now she is at a sort of rest cure in kentucky; and i have my hands full with papa and the children, as you can imagine, so i can't go off two days' journey to a wedding,--not even to yours, my dearest old katy. i shall think about you all day long on _the_ day, when i know which it is, and try to imagine just how everything looks; and yet i don't find that quite easy, for somehow i fancy that your wedding will be a little different from the common run. you always were different from other people to me, you know,--you and clover,--and i love you so much, and i always shall. papa has taken a kit-kat portrait of me in oils,--and a blue dress,--which he thinks is like, and which i am going to send you as soon as it comes home from the framers. i hope you will like it a little for my sake. dear katy, i send so much love with it. i have only seen the pages in the street since they came home from europe; but the last piece of news here is lilly's engagement to comte ernest de conflans. he has something to do with the french legation in washington, i believe; and they crossed in the same steamer. i saw him driving with her the other day,--a little man, not handsome, and very dark. i do not know when they are to be married. your cousin clarence is in colorado. with two kisses apiece and a great hug for you, katy, i am always your affectionate friend, louisa. "dear me!" said the insatiable clover, "is that the very last? i wish we had another mail, and twelve more letters coming in at once. what a blessed institution the post-office is!" chapter iii. the first wedding in the family. the great job of the cake-making over, a sense of leisure settled on the house. there seemed nothing left to be done which need put any one out of his or her way particularly. katy had among her other qualities a great deal of what is called "forehandedness." to leave things to be attended to at the last moment in a flurry and a hurry would have been intolerable to her. she firmly believed in the doctrine of a certain wise man of our own day who says that to push your work before you is easy enough, but to pull it after you is very hard indeed. all that winter, without saying much about it,--for katy did not "do her thinking outside her head,"--she had been gradually making ready for the great event of the spring. little by little, a touch here and a touch there, matters had been put in train, and the result now appeared in a surprising ease of mind and absence of confusion. the house had received its spring cleaning a fortnight earlier than usual, and was in fair, nice order, with freshly-beaten carpets and newly-washed curtains. katy's dresses were ordered betimes, and had come home, been tried on, and folded away ten days before the wedding. they were not many in number, but all were pretty and in good taste, for the frigate was to be in bar harbor and newport for a part of the summer, and katy wanted to do ned credit, and look well in his eyes and those of his friends. all the arrangements, kept studiously simple, were beautifully systematized; and their very simplicity made them easy to carry out. the guest chambers were completely ready, one or two extra helpers were engaged that the servants might not be overworked, the order of every meal for the three busiest days was settled and written down. each of the younger sisters had some special charge committed to her. elsie was to wait on cousin helen, and see that she and her nurse had everything they wanted. clover was to care for the two roses; johnnie to oversee the table arrangements, and make sure that all was right in that direction. dear little amy was indefatigable as a doer of errands, and her quick feet were at everybody's service to "save steps." cecy arrived, and haunted the house all day long, anxious to be of use to somebody; mrs. ashe put her time at their disposal; there was such a superabundance of helpers, in fact, that no one could feel over taxed. and katy, while still serving as main spring to the whole, had plenty of time to write her notes, open her wedding presents, and enjoy her friends in a leisurely, unfatigued fashion which was a standing wonderment to cecy, whose own wedding had been of the onerous sort, and had worn her to skin and bone. "i am only just beginning to recover from it now," she remarked plaintively, "and there you sit, katy, looking as fresh as a rose; not tired a bit, and never seeming to have anything on your mind. i can't think how you do it. i never was at a wedding before where everybody was not perfectly worn out." "you never were at such a simple wedding before," explained katy. "i'm not ambitious, you see. i want to keep things pretty much as they are every day, only with a little more of everything because of there being more people to provide for. if i were attempting to make it a beautiful, picturesque wedding, we should get as tired as anybody, i have no doubt." katy's gifts were numerous enough to satisfy even clover, and comprised all manner of things, from a silver tray which came, with a rather stiff note, from mrs. page and lilly, to mary's new flour-scoop, debby's sifter, and a bottle of home-made hair tonic from an old woman in the "county home." each of the brothers and sisters had made her something, katy having expressed a preference for presents of home manufacture. mrs. ashe gave her a beautiful sapphire ring, and cecy hall--as they still called her inadvertently half the time--an elaborate sofa-pillow embroidered by herself. katy liked all her gifts, both large and small, both for what they were and for what they meant, and took a good healthy, hearty satisfaction in the fact that so many people cared for her, and had worked to give her a pleasure. cousin helen was the first guest to arrive, five days before the wedding. when dr. carr, who had gone to buffalo to meet and escort her down, lifted her from the carriage and carried her indoors, all of them could easily have fancied that it was the first visit happening over again, for she looked exactly as she did then, and scarcely a day older. she happened to have on a soft gray travelling dress too, much like that which she wore on the previous occasion, which made the illusion more complete. but there was no illusion to cousin helen herself. everything to her seemed changed and quite different. the ten years which had passed so lightly over her head had made a vast alteration in the cousins whom she remembered as children. the older ones were grown up, the younger ones in a fair way to be so; even phil, who had been in white frocks with curls falling over his shoulders at the time of her former visit to burnet, was now fifteen and as tall as his father. he was very slight in build, and looked delicate, she thought; but katy assured her that he was perfectly well, and thin only because he had outgrown his strength. it was one of the delightful results of katy's "forehandedness" that she could command time during those next two days to thoroughly enjoy cousin helen. she sat beside her sofa for hours at a time, holding her hand and talking with a freedom of confidence such as she could have shown to no one else, except perhaps to clover. she had the feeling that in so doing she was rendering account to a sort of visible conscience of all the events, the mistakes, the successes, the glad and the sorry of the long interval that had passed since they met. it was a pleasure and relief to her; and to cousin helen the recital was of equal interest, for though she knew the main facts by letter, there was a satisfaction in collecting the little details which seldom get fully put into letters. one subject only katy touched rather guardedly; and that was ned. she was so desirous that her cousin should approve of him, and so anxious not to raise her expectations and have her disappointed, that she would not half say how very nice she herself thought him to be. but cousin helen could "read between the lines," and out of katy's very reserve she constructed an idea of ned which satisfied her pretty well. so the two happy days passed, and on the third arrived the other anxiously expected guests, rose red and little rose. they came early in the morning, when no one was particularly looking for them, which made it all the pleasanter. clover was on the porch twisting the honeysuckle tendrils upon the trellis when the carriage drove up to the gate, and rose's sunny face popped out of the window. clover recognized her at once, and with a shriek which brought all the others downstairs, flew down the path, and had little rose in her arms before any one else could get there. "you see before you a deserted wife," was rose's first salutation. "deniston has just dumped us on the wharf, and gone on to chicago in that abominable boat, leaving me to your tender mercies. o business, business! what crimes are committed in thy name, as madame roland would say!" "never mind deniston," cried clover, with a rapturous squeeze. "let us play that he doesn't exist, for a little while. we have got you now, and we mean to keep you." "how pleasant you look!" said rose, glancing up the locust walk toward the house, which wore a most inviting and hospitable air, with doors and windows wide open, and the soft wind fluttering the vines and the white curtains. "ah, there comes katy now." she ran forward to meet her while clover followed with little rose. "let me det down, pease," said that young lady,--the first remark she had made. "i tan walk all by myself. i am not a baby any more." "_will_ you hear her talk?" cried katy, catching her up. "isn't it wonderful? rosebud, who am i, do you think?" "my aunt taty, i dess, betause you is so big. is you mawwied yet?" "no, indeed. did you think i would get 'mawwied' without you? i have been waiting for you and mamma to come and help me." "well, we is here," in a tone of immense satisfaction. "now you tan." the larger rose meanwhile was making acquaintance with the others. she needed no introductions, but seemed to know by instinct which was each boy and each girl, and to fit the right names to them all. in five minutes she seemed as much at home as though she had spent her life in burnet. they bore her into the house in a sort of triumph, and upstairs to the blue bedroom, which katy and clover had vacated for her; and such a hubbub of talk and laughter presently issued therefrom that cousin helen, on the other side the entry, asked jane to set her door open that she might enjoy the sounds,--they were so merry. rose's bright, rather high-pitched voice was easily distinguishable above the rest. she was evidently relating some experience of her journey, with an occasional splash by way of accompaniment, which suggested that she might be washing her hands. "yes, she really has grown awfully pretty; and she had on the loveliest dark-brown suit you ever saw, with a fawn-colored hat, and was altogether dazzling; and, do you know, i was really quite glad to see her. i can't imagine why, but i was! i didn't stay glad long, however." "why not? what did she do?" this in clover's voice. "well, she didn't do anything, but she was distant and disagreeable. i scarcely observed it at first, i was so pleased to see one of the old hillsover girls; and i went on being very cordial. then lilly tried to put me down by running over a list of her fine acquaintances, lady this, and the marquis of that,--people whom she and her mother had known abroad. it made me think of my old autograph book with antonio de vallombrosa, and the rest. do you remember?" "of course we do. well, go on." "at last she said something about comte ernest de conflans,--i had heard of him, perhaps? he crossed in the steamer with 'mamma and me,' it seems; and we have seen a great deal of him. this appeared a good opportunity to show that i too have relations with the nobility, so i said yes, i had met him in boston, and my sister had seen a good deal of him in washington last winter. "'and what did she think of him?' demanded lilly. "'well,' said i, 'she didn't seem to think a great deal about him. she says all the young men at the french legation seem more than usually foolish, but comte ernest is the worst of the lot. he really _does_ look like an absolute fool, you know,' i added pleasantly. now, girls, what was there in that to make her angry? can you tell? she grew scarlet, and glared as if she wanted to bite my head off; and then she turned her back and would scarcely speak to me again. does she always behave that way when the aristocracy is lightly spoken of?" "oh, rose,--oh, rose," cried clover, in fits of laughter, "did you really tell her that?" "i really did. why shouldn't i? is there any reason in particular?" "only that she is engaged to him," replied katy, in an extinguished voice. "good gracious! no wonder she scowled! this is really dreadful. but then why did she look so black when she asked where we were going, and i said to your wedding? that didn't seem to please her any more than my little remarks about the nobility." "i don't pretend to understand lilly," said katy, temperately; "she is an odd girl." "i suppose an odd girl can't be expected to have an even temper," remarked rose, apparently speaking with a hairpin in her mouth. "well, i've done for myself, that is evident. i need never expect any notice in future from the comtesse de conflans." cousin helen heard no more, but presently steps sounded outside her door, and katy looked in to ask if she were dressed, and if she might bring rose in, a request which was gladly granted. it was a pretty sight to see rose with cousin helen. she knew all about her already from clover and katy, and fell at once under the gentle spell which seemed always to surround that invalid sofa, begged leave to say "cousin helen" as the others did, and was altogether at her best and sweetest when with her, full of merriment, but full too of a deference and sympathy which made her particularly charming. "i never did see anything so lovely in all my life before," she told clover in confidence. "to watch her lying there looking so radiant and so peaceful and so interested in katy's affairs, and never once seeming to remember that except for that accident she too would have been a bride and had a wedding! it's perfectly wonderful! do you suppose she is never sorry for herself? she seems the merriest of us all." "i don't think she remembers herself often enough to be sorry. she is always thinking of some one else, it seems to me." "well, i am glad to have seen her," added rose, in a more serious tone than was usual to her. "she and grandmamma are of a different order of beings from the rest of the world. i don't wonder you and katy always were so good; you ought to be with such a cousin helen." "i don't think we were as good as you make us out, but cousin helen has really been one of the strong influences of our lives. she was the making of katy, when she had that long illness; and katy has made the rest of us." little rose from the first moment became the delight of the household, and especially of amy ashe, who could not do enough for her, and took her off her mother's hands so entirely that rose complained that she seemed to have lost her child as well as her husband. she was a sedate little maiden, and wonderfully wise for her years. already, in some ways she seemed older than her erratic little mother, of whom, in a droll fashion, she assumed a sort of charge. she was a born housewife. "mamma, you have fordotten your wings," clover would hear her saying. "mamma, you has a wip in your seeve, you must mend it," or "mamma, don't fordet dat your teys is in the top dwawer,"--all these reminders and advices being made particularly comical by the baby pronunciation. rose's theory was that little rose was a messenger from heaven sent to buffet her and correct her mistakes. "the bane and the antidote," she would say. "think of my having a child with powers of ratiocination!" rose came down the night of her arrival after a long, freshening nap, looking rested and bonny in a pretty blue dress, and saying that as little rose too had taken a good sleep, she might sit up to tea if the family liked. the family were only too pleased to have her do so. after tea rose carried her off, ostensibly to go to bed, but clover heard a great deal of confabulating and giggling in the hall and on the stairs, and soon after, rose returned, the door-bell rang loudly, and there entered an astonishing vision,--little rose, costumed as a cupid or a carrier-pigeon, no one knew exactly which, with a pair of large white wings fastened on her shoulders, and dragging behind her by a loop of ribbon a sizeable basket quite full of parcels. straight toward katy she went, and with her small hands behind her back and her blue eyes fixed full on katy's face, repeated with the utmost solemnity the following "poem:" "i'm a messender, you see, fwom hymen's expwess tumpany. all these little bundles are for my aunty taty tarr; if she knows wot's dood for her she will tiss the messender." [illustration: "i'm a messender, you see, fwom hymen's expwess tumpany."] "you sweet thing!" cried katy, "tissing the messender" with all her heart. "i never heard such a dear little poem. did you write it yourself, roslein?" "no. mamma wote it, but she teached it to me so i tould say it." the bundles of course contained wedding gifts. rose seemed to have brought her trunk full of them. there were a pretty pair of salt-cellars from mrs. redding, a charming paper-knife of silver, with an antique coin set in the handle, from sylvia, a hand-mirror mounted in brass from esther dearborn, a long towel with fringed and embroidered ends from ellen gray, and from dear old mrs. redding a beautiful lace-pin set with a moonstone. next came a little _repoussé_ pitcher marked, "with love from mary silver," then a parcel tied with pink ribbons, containing a card-case of japanese leather, which was little rose's gift, and last of all rose's own present, a delightful case full of ivory brushes and combs. altogether never was such a satisfactory "fardel" brought by hymen's or any other express company before; and in opening the packages, reading the notes that came with them and exclaiming and admiring, time flew so fast that rose quite forgot the hour, till little rose, growing sleepy, reminded her of it by saying,-- "mamma, i dess i'd better do to bed now, betause if i don't i shall be too seepy to turn to aunt taty's wedding to-mowwow." "dear me!" cried rose, catching the child up. "this is simply dreadful! what a mother i am! things _are_ come to a pass indeed, if babes and sucklings have to ask to be put to bed. baby, you ought to have been christened nathan the wise." she disappeared with roslein's drowsy eyes looking over her shoulder. next afternoon came ned, and with him, to katy's surprise and pleasure, appeared the good old commodore who had played such a kind part in their affairs in italy the year before. it was a great compliment that he should think it worth while to come so far to see one of his junior officers married; and it showed so much real regard for ned that everybody was delighted. these guests were quartered with mrs. ashe, but they took most of their meals with the carrs; and it was arranged that they, with polly and amy, should come to an early breakfast on the marriage morning. after ned's arrival things did seem to grow a little fuller and busier, for he naturally wanted katy to himself, and she was too preoccupied to keep her calm grasp on events; still all went smoothly, and rose declared that there never was such a wedding since the world was made,--no tears, no worries, nobody looking tired, nothing disagreeable! clover's one great subject of concern was the fear that it might rain. there was a little haze about the sunset the night before, and she expressed her intention to cousin helen of lying awake all night to see how things looked. "i really feel as if i could not bear it if it should storm," she said, "after all this fine weather too; and i know i shall not sleep a wink, anyway." "i think we can trust god to take care of the weather even on katy's wedding-day," replied cousin helen, gently. and after all it was she who lay awake. pain had made her a restless sleeper, and as her bed commanded the great arch of western sky, she saw the moon, a sharp-curved silver shape, descend and disappear a little before midnight. she roused again when all was still, solemn darkness except for a spangle of stars, and later, opened her eyes in time to catch the faint rose flush of dawn reflected from the east. she raised herself on her elbow to watch the light grow. "it is a fair day for the child," she whispered to herself. "how good god is!" then she slept again for a long, restful space, and woke refreshed, so that katy's secret fear that cousin helen might be ill from excitement, and not able to come to her wedding, was not realized. clover, meantime, had slept soundly all night. she and katy shared the same room, and waked almost at the same moment. it was early still; but the sisters felt bright and rested and ready for work, so they rose at once. they dressed in silence, after a little whispered rejoicing over the beautiful morning, and in silence took their bibles and sat down side by side to read the daily portion which was their habit. then hand in hand they stole downstairs, disturbing nobody, softly opened doors and windows, carried bowls and jars out on the porch, and proceeded to arrange a great basket full of roses which had been brought the night before, and set in the dew-cool shade of the willows to keep fresh. before breakfast all the house had put on festal airs. summer had come early to burnet that year; every garden was in bud and blossom, and every one who had flowers had sent their best to grace katy's wedding. the whole world seemed full of delicious smells. each table and chimney-piece bore a fragrant load; a great bowl of jacqueminots stood in the middle of the breakfast-table, and two large jars of the same on the porch, where clover had arranged various seats and cushions that it might serve as a sort of outdoor parlor. nobody who came to that early breakfast ever forgot its peace and pleasantness and the sweet atmosphere of affection which seemed to pervade everything about it. after breakfast came family prayers as usual, dr. carr reading the chapter, and the dear old commodore joining with a hearty nautical voice in,-- "awake my soul! and with the sun," which was a favorite hymn with all of them. ned shared katy's book, and his face and hers alone would have been breakfast enough for the company if everything else had failed, as rose remarked to clover in a whisper, though nobody found any fault with the more substantial fare which debby had sent in previously. somehow this little mutual service of prayer and praise seemed to fit in with the spirit of the day, and give it its keynote. "it's just the sweetest wedding," mrs. ashe told her brother. "and the wonderful thing is that everything comes so naturally. katy is precisely her usual self,--only a little more so." "i'm under great obligations to amy for having that fever," was ned's somewhat indirect answer; but his sister understood what he meant. breakfast over, the guests discreetly removed themselves; and the whole family joined in resetting the table for the luncheon, which was to be at two, katy and ned departing in the boat at four. it was a simple but abundant repast, with plenty of delicious home-cooked food,--oysters and salads and cold chicken; fresh salmon from lake superior; a big virginia ham baked to perfection, red and translucent to its savory centre; hot coffee, and quantities of debby's perfect rolls. there were strawberries, also, and ice-cream, and the best of home-made cake and jellies, and everywhere vases of fresh roses to perfume the feast. when all was arranged, there was still time for katy to make cousin helen a visit, and then go to her room for a quiet rest before dressing; and still that same unhurried air pervaded the house. there had been a little discussion the night before as to just how the bride should make her appearance at the decisive moment; but katy had settled it by saying simply that she should come downstairs, and ned could meet her at the foot of the staircase. "it is the simplest way," she said; "and you know i don't want any fuss. i will just come down." "i dare say she's right," remarked rose; "but it seems to me to require a great deal of courage." and after all, it didn't. the simple and natural way of doing a thing generally turns out the easiest. clover helped katy to put on the wedding-gown of soft crape and creamy white silk. it was trimmed with old lace and knots of ribbon, and katy wore with it two or three white roses which ned had brought her, and a pearl pendant which was his gift. then clover had to go downstairs to receive the guests, and see that cousin helen's sofa was put in the right place; and rose, who remained behind, had the pleasure of arranging katy's veil. the yellow-white of the old blonde was very becoming, and altogether, the effect, though not "stylish," was very sweet. katy was a little pale, but otherwise exactly like her usual self, with no tremors or self-consciousness. presently little rose came up with a message. "aunty tover says dat dr. tone has tum, and everything is weddy, and you'd better tum down," she announced. katy gave rose a last kiss, and went down the hall. but little rose was so fascinated by the appearance of the white dress and veil that she kept fast hold of katy's hand, disregarding her mother's suggestion that she should slip down the back staircase, as she herself proposed to do. "no, i want to do with my aunt taty," she persisted. so it chanced that katy came downstairs with pretty little rose clinging to her like a sort of impromptu bridesmaid; and meeting ned's eyes as he stood at the foot waiting for her, she forgot herself, lost the little sense of shyness which was creeping over her, and responded to his look with a tender, brilliant smile. the light from the hall-door caught her face and figure just then, the color flashed into her cheeks; and she looked like a beautiful, happy picture of a bride, and all by accident,--which was the best thing about it; for pre-arranged effects are not always effective, and are apt to betray their pre-arrangement. then katy took ned's arm, little rose let go her hand, and they went into the parlor and were married. dr. stone had an old-fashioned and very solemn wedding service which he was accustomed to use on such occasions. he generally spoke of the bride as "thy handmaiden," which was a form that clover particularly deprecated. he had also been known to advert to the world where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage as a great improvement on this, which seemed, to say the least, an unfortunate allusion under the circumstances. but upon this occasion his feelings were warmed and touched, and he called katy "my dear child," which was much better than "thy handmaiden." when the ceremony was over, ned kissed katy, and her father kissed her, and the girls and dorry and phil; and then, without waiting for any one else, she left her place and went straight to where cousin helen lay on her sofa, watching the scene with those clear, tender eyes in which no shadow of past regrets could be detected. katy knelt down beside her, and they exchanged a long, silent embrace. there was no need for words between hearts which knew each other so well. after that for a little while all was congratulations and good wishes. i think no bride ever carried more hearty good-will into her new life than did my katy. all sorts of people took ned off into corners to tell him privately what a fortunate person he was in winning such a wife. each fresh confidence of this sort was a fresh delight to him, he so thoroughly agreed with it. "she's a prize, sir!--she's a prize!" old mr. worrett kept repeating, shaking ned's hand with each repetition. mrs. worrett had not been able to come. she never left home now on account of the prevailing weakness of carryalls; but she sent katy her best love and a gorgeous broom made of the tails of her own peacocks. "aren't you sorry you are not going to stay and have a nice time with us all, and help eat up the rest of the cake?" demanded clover, as she put her head into the carriage for a last kiss, two hours later. "very!" said katy; but she didn't look sorry at all. "there's one comfort," clover remarked valiantly, as she walked back to the house with her arm round rose's waist. "she's coming back in december, when the ship sails, and as likely as not she will stay a year, or perhaps two. that's what i like about the navy. you can eat your cake, and have it too. husbands go off for good long times, and leave their wives behind them. i think it's delightful!" "i wonder if katy will think it quite so delightful," remarked rose. "girls are not always so anxious to ship their husbands off for what you call 'good long times.'" "i think she ought. it seems to me perfectly unnatural that any one should want to leave her own family and go away for always. i like ned dearly, but except for this blessed arrangement about going to sea, i don't see how katy could." "clover, you are a goose. you'll be wiser one of these days, see if you aren't," was rose's only reply. chapter iv. two long years in one short chapter. katy's absence left a sad blank in the household. every one missed her, but nobody so much as clover, who all her life long had been her room-mate, confidante, and intimate friend. it was a great help that rose was there for the first three lonely days. dulness and sadness were impossible with that vivacious little person at hand; and so long as she stayed, clover had small leisure to be mournful. rose was so bright and merry and affectionate that elsie and john were almost as much in love with her as clover herself, and sat and sunned themselves in her warmth, so to speak, all day long, while phil and dorry fairly quarrelled as to which should have the pleasure of doing little services for her and baby rose. if she could have remained the summer through, all would have seemed easy; but that of course was impossible. mr. browne appeared with a provoking punctuality on the morning of the fourth day, prepared to carry his family away with him. he spent one night at dr. carr's, and they all liked him very much. no one could help it, he was so cordial and friendly and pleasant. still, for all her liking, clover could have found it in her heart to quite detest him as the final moment drew near. "let him go home without you," she urged coaxingly. "stay with us all summer,--you and little rose! he can come back in september to fetch you, and it would be so delightful to us." "my dear, i couldn't live without deniston till september," said the disappointing rose. "it may not show itself to a casual observer, but i am really quite foolish about deniston. i shouldn't be happy away from him at all. he's the only husband i've got,--a 'poor thing, but mine own,' as the 'immortal william' puts it." "oh, dear," groaned clover. "that is the way that katy is going to talk about ned, i suppose. matrimony is the most aggravating condition of things for outsiders that was ever invented. i wish nobody _had_ invented it. here it would be so nice for us to have you stay, and the moment that provoking husband of yours appears, you can't think of any one else." "too true--much too true. now, clovy, don't embitter our last moments with reproaches. it's hard enough to leave you as it is, when i've just found you again after all these years. i've had the most beautiful visit that ever was, and you've all been awfully dear and nice. 'kiss me quick and let me go,' as the song says. i only wish burnet was next door to west cedar street!" next day mr. browne sailed away with his "handful of roses," as elsie sentimentally termed them (and indeed, rose by herself would have been a handful for almost any man); and clover, like lord ullin, was "left lamenting." cousin helen remained, however; and it was not till she too departed, a week later, that clover fully recognized what it meant to have katy married. then indeed she could have found it in her heart to emulate eugénie de la ferronayes, and shed tears over all the little inanimate objects which her sister had left behind,--the worn-out gloves, the old dressing slippers in the shoe-bag. but dear me, we get used to everything, and it is fortunate that we do! life is too full, and hearts too flexible, and really sad things too sad, for the survival of sentimental regrets over changes which do not involve real loss and the wide separation of death. in time, clover learned to live without katy, and to be cheerful still. her cheerfulness was greatly helped by the letters which came regularly, and showed how contented katy herself was. she and ned were having a beautiful time, first in new york, and making visits near it, then in portsmouth and portland, when the frigate moved on to these harbors, and in newport, which was full and gay and amusing to the last degree. later, in august, the letters came from bar harbor, where katy had followed, in company with the commodore's wife, who seemed as nice as her husband; and clover heard of all manner of delightful doings,--sails, excursions, receptions on board ship, and long moonlight paddles with ned, who was an expert canoeist. everybody was so wonderfully kind, katy said; but ned wrote to his sister that katy was a great favorite; every one liked her, and his particular friends were all raging wildly round in quest of girls just like her to marry. "but it's no use; for, as i tell them," he added, "that sort isn't made in batches. there is only one katy; and happily she belongs to me, and the other fellows must get along as they can." this was all satisfactory and comforting; and clover could endure a little loneliness herself so long as her beloved katy seemed so happy. she was very busy besides, and there _were_ compensations, as she admitted to herself. she liked the consequence of being at the head of domestic affairs, and succeeding to katy's position as papa's special daughter,--the person to whom he came for all he wanted, and to whom he told his little secrets. she and elsie became more intimate than they had ever been before; and elsie in her turn enjoyed being clover's lieutenant as clover had been katy's. so the summer did not seem long to any of them; and when september was once past, and they could begin to say, "month after next," the time sped much faster. "mrs. hall asked me this morning when the worthingtons were coming," said johnnie, one day. "it seems so funny to have katy spoken of as 'the worthingtons.'" "i only wish the worthingtons would write and say when," remarked clover. "it is more than a week since we heard from them." the next day brought the wished-for letter, and the good news that ned had a fortnight's leave, and meant to bring katy home the middle of november, and stay for thanksgiving. after that the "natchitoches" was to sail for an eighteen months' cruise to china and japan; and then ned would probably have two years ashore at the torpedo station or naval academy or somewhere, and they would start a little home for themselves. "meantime," wrote katy, "i am coming to spend a year and a half with you, if urged. don't all speak at once, and don't mind saying so, if you don't want me." the bitter drop in this pleasant intelligence--there generally is one, you know--was that the fortnight of ned's stay was to be spent at mrs. ashe's. "it's her only chance to see ned," said katy; "so i know you won't mind, for afterward you will have me for such a long visit." but they _did_ mind very much! "i don't think it's fair," cried johnnie, hotly, while clover and elsie exchanged disgusted looks; "katy belongs to us." "katy belongs to her husband, on the contrary," said dr. carr, overhearing her; "you must learn that lesson once for all, children. there's no escape from the melancholy fact; and it's quite right and natural that ned should wish to go to his sister, and she should want to have him." "ned! yes. but katy--" "my dear, katy _is_ ned," answered dr. carr, with a twinkle. then noticing the extremely unconvinced expression of johnnie's face, he added more seriously, "don't be cross, children, and spoil all katy's pleasure in coming home, with your foolish jealousies. clover, i trust to you to take these young mutineers in hand and make them listen to reason." thus appealed to, clover rallied her powers, and while laboring to bring elsie and john to a proper frame of mind, schooled herself as well, so as to be able to treat mrs. ashe amiably when they met. dear, unconscious polly meanwhile was devising all sorts of pleasant and hospitable plans designed to make ned's stay a sort of continuous fête to everybody. she put on no airs over the preference shown her, and was altogether so kind and friendly and sweet that no one could quarrel with her even in thought, and johnnie herself had to forgive her, and be contented with a little whispered grumble to dorry now and then over the inconvenience of possessing "people-in-law." and then katy came, the same katy, only, as clover thought, nicer, brighter, dearer, and certainly better-looking than ever. sea air had tanned her a little, but the brown was becoming; and she had gained an ease and polish of manner which her sisters admired very much. and after all, it seemed to make little difference at which house they stayed, for they were in and out of both all day long; and mrs. ashe threw her doors open to the carrs and wanted some or all of them for every meal, so that except for the name of the thing, it was almost as satisfactory to have katy over the way as occupying her old quarters. the fortnight sped only too rapidly. ned departed, and katy settled herself in the familiar corner to wait till he should come back again. navy wives have to learn the hard lesson of patience in the long separations entailed by their husbands' profession. katy missed ned sorely, but she was too unselfish to mope, or to let the others know how hard to bear his loss seemed to her. she never told any one how she lay awake in stormy nights, or when the wind blew,--and it seemed to blow oftener than usual that winter,--imagining the frigate in a gale, and whispering little prayers for ned's safety. then her good sense would come back, and remind her that wind in burnet did not necessarily mean wind in shanghai or yokohama or wherever the "natchitoches" might be; and she would put herself to sleep with the repetition of that lovely verse of keble's "evening hymn," left out in most of the collections, but which was particularly dear to her:-- "thou ruler of the light and dark, guide through the tempest thine own ark; amid the howling, wintry sea, we are in port if we have thee." so the winter passed, and the spring; and another summer came and went, with little change to the quiet burnet household, and katy's brief life with her husband began to seem dreamy and unreal, it lay so far behind. and then, with the beginning of the second winter came a new anxiety. phil, as we said in the last chapter, had grown too fast to be very strong, and was the most delicate of the family in looks and health, though full of spirit and fun. going out to skate with some other boys the week before christmas, on a pond which was not so securely frozen as it looked, the ice gave way; and though no one was drowned, the whole party had a drenching, and were thoroughly chilled. none of the others minded it much, but the exposure had a serious effect on phil. he caught a bad cold which rapidly increased into pneumonia; and christmas day, usually such a bright one in the carr household, was overshadowed by anxious forebodings, for phil was seriously ill, and the doctor felt by no means sure how things would turn with him. the sisters nursed him devotedly, and by march he was out again; but he did not get _well_ or lose the persistent little cough, which kept him thin and weak. dr. carr tried this remedy and that, but nothing seemed to do much good; and katy thought that her father looked graver and more anxious every time that he tested phil's temperature or listened at his chest. "it's not serious yet," he told her in private; "but i don't like the look of things. the boy is just at a turning-point. any little thing might set him one way or the other. i wish i could send him away from this damp lake climate." but sending a half-sick boy away is not such an easy thing, nor was it quite clear where he ought to go. so matters drifted along for another month, and then phil settled the question for himself by having a slight hemorrhage. it was evident that something must be done, and speedily--but what? dr. carr wrote to various medical acquaintances, and in reply pamphlets and letters poured in, each designed to prove that the particular part of the country to which the pamphlet or the letter referred was the only one to which it was at all worth while to consign an invalid with delicate lungs. one recommended florida, another georgia, a third south carolina; a fourth and fifth recommended cold instead of heat, and an open air life with the mercury at zero. it was hard to decide what was best. "he ought not to go off alone either," said the puzzled father. "he is neither old enough nor wise enough to manage by himself, but who to send with him is the puzzle. it doubles the expense, too." "perhaps i--" began katy, but her father cut her short with a gesture. "no, katy, i couldn't permit that. your husband is due in a few weeks now. you must be free to go to him wherever he is, not hampered with the care of a sick brother. besides, whoever takes charge of phil must be prepared for a long absence,--at least a year. it must be either clover or myself; and as it seems out of the question that i shall drop my practice for a year, clover is the person." "phil is seventeen now," suggested katy. "that is not so very young." "no, not if he were in full health. plenty of boys no older than he have gone out west by themselves, and fared perfectly well. but in phil's condition that would never answer. he has a tendency to be low-spirited about himself too, and he needs incessant care and watchfulness." "out west," repeated katy. "have you decided, then?" "yes. the letter i had yesterday from hope, makes me pretty sure that st. helen's is the best place we have heard of." "st. helen's! where is that?" "it is one of the new health-resorts in colorado which has lately come into notice for consumptives. it's very high up; nearly or quite six thousand feet, and the air is said to be something remarkable." "clover will manage beautifully, i think; she is such a sensible little thing," said katy. "she seems to me, and he too, about as fit to go off two thousand miles by themselves as the babes in the wood," remarked dr. carr, who, like many other fathers, found it hard to realize that his children had outgrown their childhood. "however, there's no help for it. if i don't stay and grind away at the mill, there is no one to pay for this long journey. clover will have to do her best." "and a very good best it will be you'll see," said katy, consolingly. "does dr. hope tell you anything about the place?" she added, turning over the letter which her father had handed her. "oh, he says the scenery is fine, and the mean rain-fall is this, and the mean precipitation that, and that boarding-places can be had. that is pretty much all. so far as climate goes, it is the right place, but i presume the accommodations are poor enough. the children must go prepared to rough it. the town was only settled ten or eleven years ago; there hasn't been time to make things comfortable," remarked dr. carr, with a truly eastern ignorance of the rapid way in which things march in the far west. clover's feelings when the decision was announced to her it would be hard to explain in full. she was both confused and exhilarated by the sudden weight of responsibility laid upon her. to leave everybody and everything she had always been used to, and go away to such a distance alone with phil, made her gasp with a sense of dismay, while at the same time the idea that for the first time in her life she was trusted with something really important, roused her energies, and made her feel braced and valiant, like a soldier to whom some difficult enterprise is intrusted on the day of battle. many consultations followed as to what the travellers should carry with them, by what route they would best go, and how prepare for the journey. a great deal of contradictory advice was offered, as is usually the case when people are starting on a voyage or a long railway ride. one friend wrote to recommend that they should provide themselves with a week's provisions in advance, and enclosed a list of crackers, jam, potted meats, tea, fruit, and hardware, which would have made a heavy load for a donkey or mule to carry. how were poor clover and phil to transport such a weight of things? another advised against umbrellas and water-proof cloaks,--what was the use of such things where it never rained?--while a second letter, received the same day, assured them that thunder and hail storms were things for which travellers in colorado must live in a state of continual preparation. "who shall decide when doctors disagree?" in the end clover concluded that it was best to follow the leadings of commonsense and rational precaution, do about a quarter of what people advised, and leave the rest undone; and she found that this worked very well. as they knew so little of the resources of st. helen's, and there was such a strong impression prevailing in the family as to its being a rough sort of newly-settled place, clover and katy judged it wise to pack a large box of stores to go out by freight: oatmeal and arrowroot and beef-extract and albert biscuits,--things which philly ought to have, and which in a wild region might be hard to come by. debby filled all the corners with home-made dainties of various sorts; and clover, besides a spirit-lamp and a tea-pot, put into her trunks various small decorations,--japanese fans and pictures, photographs, a vase or two, books and a sofa-pillow,--things which took little room, and which she thought would make their quarters look more comfortable in case they were very bare and unfurnished. people felt sorry for the probable hardships the brother and sister were to undergo; and they had as many little gifts and notes of sympathy and counsel as katy herself when she was starting for europe. but i am anticipating. before the trunks were packed, dr. carr's anxieties about his "babes in the wood" were greatly allayed by a visit from mrs. hall. she came to tell him that she had heard of a possible "matron" for clover. "i am not acquainted with the lady myself," she said; "but my cousin, who writes about her, knows her quite well, and says she is a highly respectable person, and belongs to nice people. her sister, or some one, married a phillips of boston, and i've always heard that that family was one of the best there. she's had some malarial trouble, and is at the west now on account of it, staying with a friend in omaha; but she wants to spend the summer at st. helen's. and as i know you have worried a good deal over having clover and phil go off by themselves, i thought it might be a comfort to you to hear of this mrs. watson." "you are very good. if she proves to be the right sort of person, it _will_ be an immense comfort. do you know when she wants to start?" "about the end of may,--just the right time, you see. she could join clover and philip as they go through, which will work nicely for them all." "so it will. well, this is quite a relief. please write to your cousin, mrs. hall, and make the arrangement. i don't want mrs. watson to be burdened with any real care of the children, of course; but if she can arrange to go along with them, and give clover a word of advice now and then, should she need it, i shall be easier in my mind about them." clover was only doubtfully grateful when she heard of this arrangement. "papa always will persist in thinking that i am a baby still," she said to katy, drawing her little figure up to look as tall as possible. "i am twenty-two, i would have him remember. how do we know what this mrs. watson is like? she may be the most disagreeable person in the world for all papa can tell." "i really can't find it in my heart to be sorry that it has happened, papa looks so much relieved by it," katy rejoined. but all dissatisfactions and worries and misgivings took wings and flew away when, just ten days before the travellers were to start, a new and delightful change was made in the programme. ned telegraphed that the ship, instead of coming to new york, was ordered to san francisco to refit, and he wanted katy to join him there early in june, prepared to spend the summer; while almost simultaneously came a letter from mrs. ashe, who with amy had been staying a couple of months in new york, to say that hearing of ned's plan had decided her also to take a trip to california with some friends who had previously asked her to join them. these friends were, it seemed, the daytons of albany. mr. dayton was a railroad magnate, and had the control of a private car in which the party were to travel; and mrs. ashe was authorized to invite katy, and clover and phil also, to go along with them,--the former all the way to california, and the others as far as denver, where the roads separated. this was truly delightful. such an offer was surely worth a few days' delay. the plan seemed to settle itself all in one minute. mrs. watson, whom every one now regretted as a complication, was the only difficulty; but a couple of telegrams settled that perplexity, and it was arranged that she should join them on the same train, though in a different car. to have katy as a fellow-traveller, and mrs. ashe and amy, made a different thing of the long journey, and clover proceeded with her preparations in jubilant spirits. chapter v. car forty-seven. it is they who stay behind who suffer most from leave-takings. those who go have the continual change of scenes and impressions to help them to forget; those who remain must bear as best they may the dull heavy sense of loss and separation. the parting at burnet was not a cheerful one. clover was oppressed with the nearness of untried responsibilities; and though she kept up a brave face, she was inwardly homesick. phil slept badly the night before the start, and looked so wan and thin as he stood on the steamer's deck beside his sisters, waving good-by to the party on the wharf, that a new and sharp thrill of anxiety shot through his father's heart. the boy looked so young and helpless to be sent away ill among strangers, and round-faced little clover seemed such a fragile support! there was no help for it. the thing was decided on, decided for the best, as they all hoped; but dr. carr was not at all happy in his mind as he watched the steamer become a gradually lessening speck in the distance, and he sighed heavily when at last he turned away. elsie echoed the sigh. she, too, had noticed phil's looks and papa's gravity, and her heart felt heavy within her. the house, when they reached it, seemed lonely and empty. papa went at once to his office, and they heard him lock the door. this was such an unusual proceeding in the middle of the morning that she and johnnie opened wide eyes of dismay at each other. "is papa crying, do you suppose?" whispered john. "no, i don't think it can be _that_. papa never does cry; but i'm afraid he's feeling badly," responded elsie, in the same hushed tone. "oh, dear, how horrid it is not even to have clover at home! what _are_ we going to do without her and katy?" "i don't know i'm sure. you can't think how queer i feel, elsie,--just as if my heart had slipped out of its place, and was going down, down into my boots. i think it must be the way people feel when they are homesick. i had it once before when i was at inches mills, but never since then. how i wish philly had never gone to skate on that nasty pond!" and john burst into a passion of tears. "oh, don't, don't!" cried poor elsie, for johnnie's sobs were infectious, and she felt an ominous lump coming into her own throat, "don't behave so, johnnie. think if papa came out, and found us crying! clover particularly said that we must make the house bright for him. i'm going to sow the mignonette seed [desperately]; come and help me. the trowel is on the back porch, and you might get dorry's jack-knife and cut some little sticks to mark the places." this expedient was successful. johnnie, who loved to "whittle" above all things, dried her tears, and ran for her shade hat; and by the time the tiny brown seeds were sprinkled into the brown earth of the borders, both the girls were themselves again. dr. carr appeared from his retirement half an hour later. a note had come for him meanwhile, but somehow no one had quite liked to knock at the door and deliver it. elsie handed it to him now, with a timid, anxious look, whose import seemed to strike him, for he laughed a little, and pinched her cheek as he read. "i've been writing to dr. hope about the children," he said; "that's all. don't wait dinner for me, chicks. i'm off for the corners to see a boy who's had a fall, and i'll get a bite there. order something good for tea, elsie; and afterward we'll have a game of cribbage if i'm not called out. we must be as jolly as we can, or clover will scold us when she comes back." meanwhile the three travellers were faring through the first stage of their journey very comfortably. the fresh air and change brightened phil; he ate a good dinner, and afterward took quite a long nap on a sofa, clover sitting by to keep him covered and see that he did not get cold. late in the evening they changed to the express train, and there again, phil, after being tucked up behind the curtains of his section, went to sleep and passed a satisfactory night, so that he reached chicago looking so much better than when they left burnet that his father's heart would have been lightened could he have seen him. mrs. ashe came down to the station to meet them, together with mr. dayton,--a kind, friendly man with a tired but particularly pleasant face. all the necessary transfer of baggage, etc., was made easy, and they were carried off at once to the hotel where rooms had been secured. there they were rapturously received by amy, and introduced to mrs. dayton, a sweet, spirited little matron, with a face as kindly as her husband's, but not so worn. mr. dayton looked as if for years he had been bearing the whole weight of a railroad on his shoulders, as in one sense it may be said that he had. "we have been here almost a whole day," said amy, who had taken possession, as a matter of course, of her old perch on katy's knee. "chicago is the biggest place you ever saw, tanta; but it isn't so pretty as burnet. and oh! don't you think car forty-seven is nice,--the one we are going out west in, you know? and this morning mr. dayton took us to see it. it's the cunningest place that ever was. there's one dear little drawer in the wall that mrs. dayton says i may have to keep mabel's things in. i never saw a drawer in a car before. there's a lovely little bedroom too, and such a nice washing-basin, and a kitchen, and all sorts of things. i can hardly wait till i show them to you. don't you think that travelling is the most delightful thing in the world, miss clover?" "yes--if only--people--don't get too tired," said clover, with an anxious glance at phil, as he lay back in an easy-chair. she did not dare say, "if phil doesn't get too tired," for she had already discovered that nothing annoyed him so much as being talked about as an invalid, and that he was very apt to revenge himself by doing something imprudent immediately afterward, to disguise from an observant world the fact that he couldn't do it without running a risk. like most boys, he resented being "fussed over,"--a fact which made the care of him more difficult than it would otherwise have been. the room which had been taken for clover and katy looked out on the lake, which was not far away; and the reach of blue water would have made a pretty view if trains of cars had not continually steamed between it and the hotel, staining the sky and blurring the prospect with their smokes. katy wondered how it happened that the early settlers who laid out chicago had not bethought themselves to secure this fine water frontage as an ornament to the future city; but mr. dayton explained that in the rapid growth of western towns, things arranged themselves rather than were arranged for, and that the first pioneers had other things to think about than what a new englander would call "sightliness,"--and katy could easily believe this to be true. car forty-seven was on the track when they drove to the station at noon next day. it was the end car of a long express train, which, mr. dayton told them, is considered the place of honor, and generally assigned to private cars. it was of an old-fashioned pattern, and did not compare, as they were informed, with the palaces on wheels built nowadays for the use of railroad presidents and directors. but though katy heard of cars with french beds, plunge baths, open fireplaces, and other incredible luxuries, car forty-seven still seemed to her inexperienced eyes and clover's a marvel of comfort and convenience. a small kitchen, a store closet, and a sort of baggage-room, fitted with berths for two servants, occupied the end of the car nearest the engine. then came a dressing-closet, with ample marble basins where hot water as well as cold was always on tap; then a wide state-room, with a bed on either side, and then a large compartment occupying the middle of the car, where by day four nice little dining-tables could be set, with a seat on either side, and by night six sleeping sections made up. the rest of the car was arranged as a sitting-room, glassed all around, and furnished with comfortable seats of various kinds, a writing-desk, two or three tables of different sizes, and various small lockers and receptacles, fitted into the partitions to serve as catch-alls for loose articles of all sorts. bunches of lovely roses and baskets of strawberries stood on the tables; and quite a number of the daytons' friends had come down to see them off, each bringing some sort of good-by gift for the travellers,--flowers, hothouse grapes, early cherries, or home-made cake. they were all so cordial and pleasant and so interested in phil, that katy and clover lost their hearts to each in turn, and forever afterward were ready to stand up for chicago as the kindest place that ever was seen. then amid farewells and good wishes the train moved slowly out of the station, and the inmates of car forty-seven proceeded to "go to housekeeping," as mrs. dayton expressed it, and to settle themselves and their belongings in these new quarters. mrs. ashe and amy, it was decided, should occupy the state-room, and the other ladies were to dress there when it was convenient. sections were assigned to everybody,--clover's opposite phil's so that she might hear him if he needed anything in the night; and mr. dayton called for all the bonnets and hats, and amid much laughter proceeded to pin up each in thick folds of newspaper, and fasten it on a hook not to be taken down till the end of the journey. mabel's feathered turban took its turn with the rest, at amy's particular request. dust was the main thing to be guarded against, and katy, having been duly forewarned, had gone out in the morning, and bought for herself and clover soft hats of whity-gray felt and veils of the same color, like those which mrs. dayton and polly had provided for the journey, and which had the advantage of being light as well as unspoilable. but there was no dust that first morning, as the train ran smoothly across the fertile prairies of illinois first, and then of iowa, between fields dazzling with the fresh green of wheat and rye, and waysides studded with such wild-flowers as none of them had ever seen or dreamed of before. pink spikes and white and vivid blue spikes; masses of brown and orange cups, like low-growing tulips; ranks of beautiful vetches and purple lupines; escholtzias, like immense sweeps of golden sunlight; wild sweet peas; trumpet-shaped blossoms whose name no one knew,--all flung broadcast over the face of the land, and in such stintless quantities that it dazzled the mind to think of as it did the eyes to behold them. the low-lying horizons looked infinitely far off; the sense of space was confusing. here and there appeared a home-stead, backed with a "break-wind" of thickly-planted trees; but the general impression was of vast, still distance, endless reaches of sky, and uncounted flowers growing for their own pleasure and with no regard for human observation. in studying car forty-seven, katy was much impressed by the thoroughness of mrs. dayton's preparations for the comfort of her party. everything that could possibly be needed seemed to have been thought of,--pins, cologne, sewing materials, all sorts of softening washes for the skin, to be used on the alkaline plains, sponges to wet and fasten into the crown of hats, other sponges to breathe through, medicines of various kinds, sticking-plaster, witch-hazel and arnica, whisk brooms, piles of magazines and novels, telegraph blanks, stationery. nothing seemed forgotten. clover said that it reminded her of the mother of the swiss family robinson and that wonderful bag out of which everything was produced that could be thought of, from a grand piano to a bottle of pickles; and after that "mrs. robinson" became mrs. dayton's pet name among her fellow-travellers. she adopted it cheerfully; and her "wonderful bag" proving quite as unfailing and trustworthy as that of her prototype, the title seemed justified. pretty soon after starting came their first dinner on the car. such a nice one!--soup, roast chicken and lamb, green peas, new potatoes, stewed tomato; all as hot and as perfectly served as if they had been "on dry land," as amy phrased it. there was fresh curly lettuce too, with mayonnaise dressing, and a dessert of strawberries and ice-cream,--the latter made and frozen on the car, whose resources seemed inexhaustible. the cook had been attached to car forty-seven for some years, and had a celebrity on his own road for the preparation of certain dishes, which no one else could do as well, however many markets and refrigerators and kitchen ranges might be at command. one of these dishes was a peculiar form of cracked wheat, made crisp and savory after some mysterious fashion, and eaten with thick cream. like most _chefs_, the cook liked to do the things in which he excelled, and finding that it was admired, he gave the party this delicious wheat every morning. "the car seems paved with bottles of apollinaris and with lemons," wrote katy to her father. "there seems no limit to the supply. just as surely as it grows warm and dusty, and we begin to remember that we are thirsty, a tinkle is heard, and bayard appears with a tray,--iced lemonade, if you please, made with apollinaris water with strawberries floating on top! what do you think of that at thirty miles an hour? bayard is the colored butler. the cook is named roland. we have a fine flavor of peers and paladins among us, you perceive. "the first day out was cool and delicious, and we had no dust. at six o'clock we stopped at a junction, and our car was detached and run off on a siding. this was because mr. dayton had business in the place, and we were to wait and be taken on by the next express train soon after midnight. at first they ran us down to a pretty place by the side of the river, where it was cool, and we could look out on the water and a green bank opposite, and we thought we were going to have such a nice night; but the authorities changed their minds, and presently to our deep disgust a locomotive came puffing down the road, clawed us up, ran us back, and finally left us in the middle of innumerable tracks and switches just where all the freight trains came in and met. all night long they were arriving and going out. cars loaded with cattle, cars loaded with sheep, with pigs! such bleatings and mooings and gruntings, i never heard in all my life before. i could think of nothing but that verse in the psalms, 'strong bulls of bashan have beset me round,' and could only hope that the poor animals did not feel half as badly as they sounded. "then long before light, as we lay listening to these lamentable roarings and grunts, and quite unable to sleep for heat and noise, came the blessed express, and presently we were away out of all the din, with the fresh air of the prairie blowing in; and in no time at all we were so sound asleep that it seemed but a minute before morning. phil's slumbers lasted so long that we had to breakfast without him, for mrs. dayton would not let us wake him up. you can't think how kind she is, and mr. dayton too; and this way of travelling is so easy and delightful that it scarcely seems to tire one at all. phil has borne the journey wonderfully well so far." at omaha, on the evening of the second day, clover's future "matron" and adviser, mrs. watson, was to join them. she had been telegraphed to from chicago, and had replied, so that they knew she was expecting them. clover's thoughts were so occupied with curiosity as to what she would turn out to be, that she scarcely realized that she was crossing the mississippi for the first time, and she gave scant attention to the low bluffs which bound the river, and on which the indians used to hold their councils in those dim days when there was still an "undiscovered west" set down in geographies and atlases. as soon as they reached the omaha side of the river, she and katy jumped down from the car, and immediately found themselves face to face with an anxious-looking little old lady, with white hair frizzled and banged over a puckered forehead, and a pair of watery blue eyes peering from beneath, evidently in search of somebody. her hands were quite full of bags and parcels, and a little heap of similar articles lay on the platform near her, of which she seemed afraid to lose sight for a moment. "oh, is it miss carr?" was her first salutation. "i'm mrs. watson. i thought it might be you, from the fact that you got out of that car, and it seems rather different--i am quite relieved to see you. i didn't know but something--my daughter she said to me as i was coming away, 'now, mother, don't lose yourself, whatever you do. it seems quite wild to think of you in canyon this and canyon that, and the garden of the gods! do get some one to keep an eye on you, or we shall never hear of you again. you'll--' it's quite a comfort that you have got here. i supposed you would, but the uncertainty--oh, dear! that man is carrying off my trunks. please run after him and tell him to bring them back!" "it's all right; he's the porter," explained mr. dayton. "did you get your checks for denver or st. helen's?" "oh, i haven't any checks yet. i didn't know which it ought to be, so i waited till--miss carr and her brother would see to it for me i knew, and i wrote my daughter--my friend, mrs. peters,--i've been staying with her, you know,--was sick in bed, and i wouldn't let--dear me! what has that gentleman gone off for in such a hurry?" "he has gone to get your checks," said clover, divided between diversion and dismay at this specimen of her future "matron." "we only stay here a few minutes, i believe. do you know exactly when the train starts, mrs. watson?" "no, dear, i don't. i never know anything about trains and things like that. somebody always has to tell me, and put me on the cars. i shall trust to you and your brother to do that now. it's a great comfort to have a gentleman to see to things for you." a gentleman! poor philly! mr. dayton now came back to them. it was lucky that he knew the station and was used to the ways of railroads, for it appeared that mrs. watson had made no arrangements whatever for her journey, but had blindly devolved the care of herself and her belongings on her "young friends," as she called clover and phil. she had no sleeping section secured and no tickets, and they had to be procured at the last moment and in such a scramble that the last of her parcels was handed on to the platform by a porter, at full run, after the train was in motion. she was not at all flurried by the commotion, though others were, and blandly repeated that she knew from the beginning that all would be right as soon as miss carr and her brother arrived. mrs. dayton had sent a courteous invitation to the old lady to come to car forty-seven for tea, but mrs. watson did not at all like being left alone meantime, and held fast to clover when the others moved to go. "i'm used to being a good deal looked after," she explained. "all the family know my ways, and they never do let me be alone much. i'm taken faint sometimes; and the doctor says it's my heart or something that's the cause of it, so my daughter she--you ain't going, my dear, are you?" "i must look after my brother," said poor clover; "he's been ill, you know, and this is the time for his medicine." "dear me! is he ill?" said mrs. watson, in an aggrieved tone. "i wasn't prepared for that. you'll have your hands pretty full with him and me both, won't you?--for though i'm well enough just now, there's no knowing what a day may bring forth, and you're all i have to depend upon. you're sure you must go? it seems as if your sister--mrs. worthing, is that the name?--might see to the medicine, and give you a little freedom. don't let your brother be too exacting, dear. it is the worst thing for a young man. i'll sit here a little while, and then i'll--the conductor will help me, i suppose, or perhaps that gentleman might--i hate to be left by myself." these were the last words which clover heard as she escaped. she entered car forty-seven with such a rueful and disgusted countenance that everybody burst out laughing. "what is the matter, miss clover?" asked mr. dayton. "has your old lady left something after all?" "don't call her _my_ old lady! i'm supposed to be her young lady, under her charge," said clover, trying to smile. but the moment she got katy to herself, she burst out with,-- "my dear, what _am_ i going to do? it's really too dreadful. instead of some one to help me, which is what papa meant, mrs. watson seems to depend on me to take all the care of her; and she says she has fainting fits and disease of the heart! how can i take care of her? phil needs me all the time, and a great deal more than she does; i don't see how i can." "you can't, of course. you are here to take care of phil; and it is out of the question that you should have another person to look after. but i think you must mistake mrs. watson, clovy. i know that mrs. hall wrote plainly about phil's illness, for she showed me the letter." "just wait till you hear her talk," cried the exasperated clover. "you will find that i didn't mistake her at all. oh, why did mrs. hall interfere? it would all seem so easy in comparison--so perfectly easy--if only philly and i were alone together." katy thought that clover was fretted and disposed to exaggerate; but after mrs. watson joined them a little later, she changed her opinion. the old lady was an inveterate talker, and her habit of only half finishing her sentences made it difficult to follow the meanderings of her rambling discourse. it turned largely on her daughter, mrs. phillips, her husband, children, house, furniture, habits, tastes, and the phillips connection generally. "she's the only one i've got," she informed mrs. dayton; "so of course she's all-important to me. jane phillips--that's henry's youngest sister--often says that really of all the women she ever knew ellen is the most--and there's plenty to do always, of course, with three children and such a large elegant house and company coming all the--it's lucky that there's plenty to do with. henry's very liberal. he likes to have things nice, so ellen she--why, when i was packing up to come away he brought me that _repoussé_ fruit-knife there in my bag--oh, it's in my other bag! never mind; i'll show it to you some other time--solid silver, you know. bigelow and kennard--their things always good, though expensive; and my son-in-law he said, 'you're going to a fruit country, and--' mrs. peters doesn't think there is so much fruit, though. all sent on from california, as i wrote,--and i guess ellen and henry were surprised to hear it." katy held serious counsel with herself that night as to what she should do about this extraordinary "guide, philosopher, and friend" whom the fates had provided for clover. she saw that her father, from very over-anxiety, had made a mistake, and complicated clover's inevitable cares with a most undesirable companion, who would add to rather than relieve them. she could not decide what was best to do; and in fact the time was short for doing anything, for the next evening would bring them to denver, and poor clover must be left to face the situation by herself as best she might. katy finally concluded to write her father plainly how things stood, and beg him to set clover's mind quite at rest as to any responsibility for mrs. watson, and also to have a talk with that lady herself, and explain matters as clearly as she could. it seemed all that was in her power. next day the party woke to a wonderful sense of lightness and exhilaration which no one could account for till the conductor told them that the apparently level plain over which they were speeding was more than four thousand feet above the sea. it seemed impossible to believe it. hour by hour they climbed; but the climb was imperceptible. now four thousand six hundred feet of elevation was reported, now four thousand eight hundred, at last above five thousand; and still there seemed about them nothing but a vast expanse of flat levels,--the table-lands of nebraska. there was little that was beautiful in the landscape, which was principally made up of wide reaches of sand, dotted with cactus and grease-wood and with the droll cone-shaped burrows of the prairie-dogs, who could be seen gravely sitting on the roofs of their houses, or turning sudden somersaults in at the holes on top as the train whizzed by. they passed and repassed long links of a broad shallow river which the maps showed to be the platte, and which seemed to be made of two-thirds sand to one-third water. now and again mounted horsemen appeared in the distance whom mr. dayton said were "cow-boys;" but no cows were visible, and the rapidly moving figures were neither as picturesque nor as formidable as they had expected them to be. flowers were still abundant, and their splendid masses gave the charm of color to the rather arid landscape. soon after noon dim blue outlines came into view, which grew rapidly bolder and more distinct, and revealed themselves as the rocky mountains,--the "backbone of the american continent," of which we have all heard so much in geographies and the newspapers. it was delightful, in spite of dust and glare, to sit with that sweep of magnificent air rushing into their lungs, and watch the great ranges grow and grow and deepen in hue, till they seemed close at hand. to katy they were like enchanted land. somewhere on the other side of them, on the dim pacific coast, her husband was waiting for her to come, and the wheels seemed to revolve with a regular rhythmic beat to the cadence of the old scotch song,-- "and will i see his face again; and will i hear him speak?" but to clover the wheels sang something less jubilant, and she studied the mountains on her little travelling-map, and measured their distance from burnet with a sigh. they were the walls of what seemed to her a sort of prison, as she realized that presently she should be left alone among them, katy and polly gone, and these new friends whom she had learned to like so much,--left alone with phil and, what was worse, with mrs. watson! there was a comic side to the latter situation, undoubtedly, but at the moment she could not enjoy it. katy carried out her intention. she made a long call on mrs. watson in her section, and listened patiently to her bemoanings over the noise of the car which had kept her from sleeping; the "lady in gray over there" who had taken such a long time to dress in the morning that she--mrs. watson--could not get into the toilet-room at the precise moment that she wished; the newspaper boy who would not let her "just glance over" the denver "republican" unless she bought and paid for it ("and i only wanted to see the washington news, my dear, and something about a tin wedding in east dedham. my mother came from there, and i recognized one of the names and--but he took it away quite rudely; and when i complained, the conductor wouldn't attend to what i--"); and the bad piece of beefsteak which had been brought for her breakfast at the eating-station. katy soothed and comforted to the best of her ability, and then plunged into her subject, explaining phil's very delicate condition and the necessity for constant watchfulness on the part of clover, and saying most distinctly and in the plainest of english that mrs. watson must not expect clover to take care of her too. the old lady was not in the least offended; but her replies were so incoherent that katy was not sure that she understood the matter any better for the explanation. "certainly, my dear, certainly. your brother doesn't appear so very sick; but he must be looked after, of course. boys always ought to be. i'll remind your sister if she seems to be forgetting anything. i hope i shall keep well myself, so as not to be a worry to her. and we can take little excursions together, i dare say--girls always like to go, and of course an older person--oh, no, your brother won't need her so much as you think. he seems pretty strong to me, and--you mustn't worry about them, mrs. worthing--we shall all get on very well, i'm sure, provided i don't break down, and i guess i sha'n't, though they say almost every one does in this air. why, we shall be as high up as the top of mount washington." katy went back to forty-seven in despair, to comfort herself with a long confidential chat with clover in which she exhorted her not to let herself be imposed upon. "be good to her, and make her as happy as you can, but don't feel bound to wait on her, and run her errands. i am sure papa would not wish it; and it will half kill you if you attempt it. phil, till he gets stronger, is all you can manage. you not only have to nurse him, you know, but to keep him happy. it's so bad for him to mope. you want all your time to read with him, and take walks and drives; that is, if there are any carriages at st. helen's. don't let mrs. watson seize upon you, clover. i'm awfully afraid that she means to, and i can see that she is a real old woman of the sea. once she gets on your back you will never be able to throw her off." "she shall not get on my back," said clover, straightening her small figure; "but doesn't it seem _unnecessary_ that i should have an old woman of the sea to grapple with as well as phil?" "provoking things are apt to seem unnecessary, i fancy. you mustn't let yourself get worried, dear clovy. the old lady means kindly enough, i think, only she's naturally tiresome, and has become helpless from habit. be nice to her, but hold your own. self-preservation is the first law of nature." just at dusk the train reached denver, and the dreaded moment of parting came. there were kisses and tearful good-byes, but not much time was allowed for either. the last glimpse that clover had of katy was as the train moved away, when she put her head far out of the window of car forty-seven to kiss her hand once more, and call back, in a tone oracular and solemn enough to suit king charles the first, his own admonitory word, "remember!" chapter vi. st. helen's. never in her life had clover felt so small and incompetent and so very, very young as when the train with car forty-seven attached vanished from sight, and left her on the platform of the denver station with her two companions. there they stood, phil on one side tired and drooping, mrs. watson on the other blinking anxiously about, both evidently depending on her for guidance and direction. for one moment a sort of pale consternation swept over her. then the sense of the inevitable and the nobler sense of responsibility came to her aid. she rallied herself; the color returned to her cheeks, and she said bravely to mrs. watson,-- "now, if you and phil will just sit down on that settee over there and make yourselves comfortable, i will find out about the trains for st. helen's, and where we had better go for the night." mrs. watson and phil seated themselves accordingly, and clover stood for a moment considering what she should do. outside was a wilderness of tracks up and down which trains were puffing, in obedience, doubtless, to some law understood by themselves, but which looked to the uninitiated like the direst confusion. inside the station the scene was equally confused. travellers just arrived and just going away were rushing in and out; porters and baggage-agents with their hands full hurried to and fro. no one seemed at leisure to answer a question or even to listen to one. just then she caught sight of a shrewd, yet good-natured face looking at her from the window of the ticket-office; and without hesitation she went up to the enclosure. it was the ticket-agent whose eye she had caught. he was at liberty at the moment, and his answers to her inquiries, though brief, were polite and kind. people generally did soften to clover. there was such an odd and pretty contrast between her girlish appealing look and her dignified little manner, like a child trying to be stately but only succeeding in being primly sweet. the next train for st. helen's left at nine in the morning, it seemed, and the ticket-agent recommended the sherman house as a hotel where they would be very comfortable for the night. "the omnibus is just outside," he said encouragingly. "you'll find it a first-class house,--best there is west of chicago. from the east? just so. you've not seen our opera-house yet, i suppose. denver folks are rather proud of it. biggest in the country except the new one in new york. hope you'll find time to visit it." "i should like to," said clover; "but we are here for only one night. my brother's been ill, and we are going directly on to st. helen's. i'm very much obliged to you." her look of pretty honest gratitude seemed to touch the heart of the ticket-man. he opened the door of his fastness, and came out--actually came out!--and with a long shrill whistle summoned a porter whom he addressed as, "here, you pat," and bade, "take this lady's things, and put them into the 'bus for the sherman; look sharp now, and see that she's all right." then to clover,-- "you'll find it very comfortable at the sherman, miss, and i hope you'll have a good night. if you'll come to me in the morning, i'll explain about the baggage transfer." clover thanked this obliging being again, and rejoined her party, who were patiently sitting where she had left them. "dear me!" said mrs. watson as the omnibus rolled off, "i had no idea that denver was such a large place. street cars too! well, i declare!" "and what nice shops!" said clover, equally surprised. her ideas had been rather vague as to what was to be expected in the close neighborhood of the rocky mountains; but she knew that denver had only existed a few years, and was prepared to find everything looking rough and unfinished. "why, they have restaurants here and jewellers' shops!" she cried. "look, phil, what a nice grocery! we needn't have packed all those oatmeal biscuits if only we had known. and electric lights! how wonderful! but of course st. helen's is quite different." their amazement increased when they reached the hotel, and were taken in a large dining-room to order dinner from a bill of fare which seemed to include every known luxury, from oregon salmon and lake superior white-fish to frozen sherbets and california peaches and apricots. but wonderment yielded to fatigue, and again as clover fell asleep she was conscious of a deep depression. what had she undertaken to do? how could she do it? but a night of sound sleep followed by such a morning of unclouded brilliance as is seldom seen east of colorado banished these misgivings. courage rose under the stimulus of such air and sunshine. "i must just live for each day as it comes," said little clover to herself, "do my best as things turn up, keep phil happy, and satisfy mrs. watson,--if i can,--and not worry about to-morrows or yesterdays. that is the only safe way, and i won't forget if i can help it." with these wise resolves she ran down stairs, looking so blithe and bright that phil cheered at the sight of her, and lost the long morning face he had got up with, while even mrs. watson caught the contagion, and became fairly hopeful and content. a little leaven of good-will and good heart in one often avails to lighten the heaviness of many. the distance between denver and st. helen's is less than a hundred miles, but as the railroad has to climb and cross a range of hills between two and three thousand feet high, the journey occupies several hours. as the train gradually rose higher and higher, the travellers began to get wide views, first of the magnificent panorama of mountains which lies to the northwest of denver, sixty miles away, with long's peak in the middle, and after crossing the crest of the "divide," where a blue little lake rimmed with wild-flowers sparkled in the sun, of the more southern ranges. after a while they found themselves running parallel to a mountain chain of strange and beautiful forms, green almost to the top, and intersected with deep ravines and cliffs which the conductor informed them were "canyons." they seemed quite near at hand, for their bases sank into low rounded hills covered with woods, these melted into undulating table-lands, and those again into a narrow strip of park-like plain across which ran the track. flowers innumerable grew on this plain, mixed with grass of a tawny brown-green. there were cactuses, red and yellow, scarlet and white gillias, tall spikes of yucca in full bloom, and masses of a superb white poppy with an orange-brown centre, whose blue-green foliage was prickly like that of the thistle. here and there on the higher uplands appeared strange rock shapes of red and pink and pale yellow, which looked like castles with towers and pinnacles, or like primitive fortifications. clover thought it all strangely beautiful, but mrs. watson found fault with it as "queer." "it looks unnatural, somehow," she objected; "not a bit like the east. red never was a favorite color of mine. ellen had a magenta bonnet once, and it always worried--but henry liked it, so of course--people can't see things the same way. now the green hat she had winter before last was--don't you think those mountains are dreadfully bright and distinct? i don't like such high-colored rocks. even the green looks red, somehow. i like soft, hazy mountains like blue hill and wachusett. ellen spent a summer up at princeton once. it was when little cynthia had diphtheria--she's named after me, you know, and henry he thought--but i don't like the staring kind like these; and somehow those buildings, which the conductor says are not buildings but rocks, make my flesh creep." "they'd be scrumptious places to repel attacks of indians from," observed phil; "two or three scouts with breech-loaders up on that scarlet wall there could keep off a hundred piutes." "i don't feel that way a bit," clover was saying to mrs. watson. "i like the color, it's so rich; and i think the mountains are perfectly beautiful. if st. helen's is like this i am going to like it, i know." st. helen's, when they reached it, proved to be very much "like this," only more so, as phil remarked. the little settlement was built on a low plateau facing the mountains, and here the plain narrowed, and the beautiful range, seen through the clear atmosphere, seemed only a mile or two away, though in reality it was eight or ten. to the east the plain widened again into great upland sweeps like the kentish downs, with here and there a belt of black woodland, and here and there a line of low bluffs. viewed from a height, with the cloud-shadows sweeping across it, it had the extent and splendor of the sea, and looked very much like it. the town, seen from below, seemed a larger place than clover had expected, and again she felt the creeping, nervous feeling come over her. but before the train had fairly stopped, a brisk, active little man jumped on board, and walking into the car, began to look about him with keen, observant eyes. after one sweeping glance, he came straight to where clover was collecting her bags and parcels, held out his hand, and said in a pleasant voice, "i think this must be miss carr." "i am dr. hope," he went on; "your father telegraphed when you were to leave chicago, and i have come down to two or three trains in the hope of meeting you." "have you, indeed?" said clover, with a rush of relief. "how very kind of you! and so papa telegraphed! i never thought of that. phil, here is dr. hope, papa's friend; dr. hope, mrs. watson." "this is really a very agreeable attention,--your coming to meet us," said mrs. watson; "a very agreeable attention indeed. well, i shall write ellen--that's my daughter, mrs. phillips, you know--that before we had got out of the cars, a gentleman--and though i've always been in the habit of going about a good deal, it's always been in the east, of course, and things are--what are we going to do first, dr. hope? miss carr has a great deal of energy for a girl, but naturally--i suppose there's an hotel at st. helen's. ellen is rather particular where i stay. 'at your age, mother, you must be made comfortable, whatever it costs,' she says; and so i--an only daughter, you know--but you'll attend to all those things for us now, doctor." "there's quite a good hotel," said dr. hope, his eyes twinkling a little; "i'll show it to you as we drive up. you'll find it very comfortable if you prefer to go there. but for these young people i've taken rooms at a boarding-house, a quieter and less expensive place. i thought it was what your father would prefer," he added in a lower tone to clover. "i am sure he would," she replied; but mrs. watson broke in,-- "oh, i shall go wherever miss carr goes. she's under my care, you know--though at the same time i must say that in the long run i have generally found that the most expensive places turn out the cheapest. as ellen often says, get the best and--what do they charge at this hotel that you speak of, dr. hope?" "the shoshone house? about twenty-five dollars a week, i think, if you make a permanent arrangement." "that _is_ a good deal," remarked mrs. watson, meditatively, while clover hastened to say,-- "it is a great deal more than phil and i can spend, dr. hope; i am glad you have chosen the other place for us." "i suppose it _is_ better," admitted mm watson; but when they gained the top of the hill, and a picturesque, many-gabled, many-balconied structure was pointed out as the shoshone, her regrets returned, and she began again to murmur that very often the most expensive places turned out the cheapest in the end, and that it stood to reason that they must be the best. dr. hope rather encouraged this view, and proposed that she should stop and look at some rooms; but no, she could not desert her young charges and would go on, though at the same time she must say that her opinion as an older person who had seen more of the world was--she was used to being consulted. why, addy phillips wouldn't order that crushed strawberry bengaline of hers till mrs. watson saw the sample, and--but girls had their own ideas, and were bound to carry them out, ellen always said so, and for her part she knew her duty and meant to do it! dr. hope flashed one rapid, comical look at clover. western life sharpens the wits, if it does nothing else, and westerners as a general thing become pretty good judges of character. it had not taken ten minutes for the keen-witted little doctor to fathom the peculiarities of clover's "chaperone," and he would most willingly have planted her in the congenial soil of the shoshone house, which would have provided a wider field for her restlessness and self-occupation, and many more people to listen to her narratives and sympathize with her complaints. but it was no use. she was resolved to abide by the fortunes of her "young friends." while this discussion was proceeding, the carriage had been rolling down a wide street running along the edge of the plateau, opposite the mountain range. pretty houses stood on either side in green, shaded door-yards, with roses and vine-hung piazzas and nicely-cut grass. "why, it looks like a new england town," said clover, amazed; "i thought there were no trees here." "yes, i know," said dr. hope smiling. "you came, like most eastern people, prepared to find us sitting in the middle of a sandy waste, on cactus pincushions, picking our teeth with bowie-knives, and with no neighbors but indians and grizzly bears. well; sixteen years ago we could have filled the bill pretty well. then there was not a single house in st. helen's,--not even a tent, and not one of the trees that you see here had been planted. now we have three railroads meeting at our depot, a population of nearly seven thousand, electric lights, telephones, a good opera-house, a system of works which brings first-rate spring water into the town from six miles away,--in short, pretty much all the modern conveniences." "but what _has_ made the place grow so fast?" asked clover. "if i may be allowed a professional pun, it is built up on coughings. it is a town for invalids. half the people here came out for the benefit of their lungs." "isn't that rather depressing?" "it would be more so if most of them did not look so well that no one would suspect them of being ill. here we are." clover looked out eagerly. there was nothing picturesque about the house at whose gate the carriage had stopped. it was a large shabby structure, with a piazza above as well as below, and on these piazzas various people were sitting who looked unmistakably ill. the front of the house, however, commanded the fine mountain view. "you see," explained dr. hope, drawing clover aside, "boarding-places that are both comfortable and reasonable are rather scarce at st. helen's. i know all about the table here and the drainage; and the view is desirable, and mrs. marsh, who keeps the house, is one of the best women we have. she's from down your way too,--barnstable, mass., i think." clover privately wondered how barnstable, mass., could be classed as "down" the same way with burnet, not having learned as yet that to the soaring western mind that insignificant fraction of the whole country known as "the east," means anywhere from maine to michigan, and that such trivial geographical differences as exist between the different sections seem scarcely worth consideration when compared with the vast spaces which lie beyond toward the setting sun. but perhaps dr. hope was only trying to tease her, for he twinkled amusedly at her puzzled face as he went on,-- "i think you can make yourselves comfortable here. it was the best i could do. but your old lady would be much better suited at the shoshone, and i wish she'd go there." clover could not help laughing. "i wish that people wouldn't persist in calling mrs. watson my old lady," she thought. mrs. marsh, a pleasant-looking person, came to meet them as they entered. she showed clover and phil their rooms, which had been secured for them, and then carried mrs. watson off to look at another which she could have if she liked. the rooms were on the third floor. a big front one for phil, with a sunny south window and two others looking towards the west and the mountains, and, opening from it, a smaller room for clover. "your brother ought to live in fresh air both in doors and out," said dr. hope; "and i thought this large room would answer as a sort of sitting place for both of you." "it's ever so nice; and we are both more obliged to you than we can say," replied clover, holding out her hand as the doctor rose to go. he gave a pleased little laugh as he shook it. "that's all right," he said. "i owe your father's children any good turn in my power, for he was a good friend to me when i was a poor boy just beginning, and needed friends. that's my house with the red roof, miss clover. you see how near it is; and please remember that besides the care of this boy here, i'm in charge of you too, and have the inside track of the rest of the friends you are going to make in colorado. i expect to be called on whenever you want anything, or feel lonesome, or are at a loss in any way. my wife is coming to see you as soon as you have had your dinner and got settled a little. she sent those to you," indicating a vase on the table, filled with flowers. they were of a sort which clover had never seen before,--deep cup-shaped blossoms of beautiful pale purple and white. "oh, what are they?" she called after the doctor. "anemones," he answered, and was gone. "what a dear, nice, kind man!" cried clover. "isn't it delightful to have a friend right off who knows papa, and does things for us because we are papa's children? you like him, don't you, phil; and don't you like your room?" "yes; only it doesn't seem fair that i should have the largest." "oh, yes; it is perfectly fair. i never shall want to be in mine except when i am dressing or asleep. i shall sit here with you all the time; and isn't it lovely that we have those enchanting mountains just before our eyes? i never saw anything in my life that i liked so much as i do that one." it was cheyenne mountain at which she pointed, the last of the chain, and set a little apart, as it were, from the others. there is as much difference between mountains as between people, as mountain-lovers know, and like people they present characters and individualities of their own. the noble lines of mount cheyenne are full of a strange dignity; but it is dignity mixed with an indefinable charm. the canyons nestle about its base, as children at a parent's knee; its cedar forests clothe it like drapery; it lifts its head to the dawn and the sunset; and the sun seems to love it best of all, and lies longer on it than on the other peaks. clover did not analyze her impressions, but she fell in love with it at first sight, and loved it better and better all the time that she stayed at st. helen's. "dr. hope and mount cheyenne were our first friends in the place," she used to say in after-days. "how nice it is to be by ourselves!" said phil, as he lay comfortably on the sofa watching clover unpack. "i get so tired of being all the time with people. dear me! the room looks quite homelike already." clover had spread a pretty towel over the bare table, laid some books and her writing-case upon it, and was now pinning up a photograph over the mantel-piece. "we'll make it nice by-and-by," she said cheerfully; "and now that i've tidied up a little, i think i'll go and see what has become of mrs. watson. she'll think i have quite forgotten her. you'll lie quiet and rest till dinner, won't you?" "yes," said phil, who looked very sleepy; "i'm all right for an hour to come. don't hurry back if the ancient female wants you." clover spread a shawl over him before she went and shut one of the windows. [illustration: "clover spread a shawl over him before she left, and shut one of the windows."] "we won't have you catching cold the very first morning," she said. "that would be a bad story to send back to papa." she found mrs. watson in very low spirits about her room. "it's not that it's small," she said. "i don't need a very big room; but i don't like being poked away at the back so. i've always had a front room all my life. and at ellen's in the summer, i have a corner chamber, and see the sea and everything--it's an elegant room, solid black walnut with marble tops, and--lighthouses too; i have three of them in view, and they are really company for me on dark nights. i don't want to be fussy, but really to look out on nothing but a side yard with some trees--and they aren't elms or anything that i'm used to, but a new kind. there's a thing out there, too, that i never saw before, which looks like one of the giant ants' nests of africa in 'morse's geography' that i used to read about when i was--it makes me really nervous." clover went to the window to look at the mysterious object. it was a cone-shaped thing of white unburned clay, whose use she could not guess. she found later that it was a receptacle for ashes. "i suppose _your_ rooms are front ones?" went on mrs. watson, querulously. "mine isn't. it's quite a little one at the side. i think it must be just under this. phil's is in front, and is a nice large one with a view of the mountains. i wish there were one just like it for you. the doctor says that it's very important for him to have a great deal of air in his room." "doctors always say that; and of course dr. hope, being a friend of yours and all--it's quite natural he should give you the preference. though the phillips's are accustomed--but there, it's no use; only, as i tell ellen, boston is the place for me, where my family is known, and people realize what i'm used to." "i'm so sorry," clover said again. "perhaps somebody will go away, and mrs. marsh have a front room for you before long." "she did say that she might. i suppose she thinks some of her boarders will be dying off. in fact, there is one--that tall man in gray in the reclining-chair--who didn't seem to me likely to last long. well, we will hope for the best. i'm not one who likes to make difficulties." this prospect, together with dinner, which was presently announced, raised mrs. watson's spirits a little, and clover left her in the parlor, exchanging experiences and discussing symptoms with some ladies who had sat opposite them at table. mrs. hope came for a call; a pretty little woman, as friendly and kind as her husband. then clover and phil went out for a stroll about the town. their wonder increased at every turn; that a place so well equipped and complete in its appointments could have been created out of nothing in fifteen years was a marvel! after two or three turns they found themselves among shops, whose plate-glass windows revealed all manner of wares,--confectionery, new books, pretty glass and china, bonnets of the latest fashion. one or two large pharmacies glittered with jars--purple and otherwise--enough to tempt any number of rosamonds. handsome carriages drawn by fine horses rolled past them, with well-dressed people inside. in short, st. helen's was exactly like a thriving eastern town of double its size, with the difference that here a great many more people seemed to ride than to drive. some one cantered past every moment,--a lady alone, two or three girls together, or a party of rough-looking men in long boots, or a single ranchman sitting loose in his stirrups, and swinging a stock whip. clover and phil were standing on a corner, looking at some "rocky mountain curiosities" displayed for sale,--minerals, pueblo pottery, stuffed animals, and indian blankets; and phil had just commented on the beauty of a black horse which was tied to a post close by, when its rider emerged from a shop, and prepared to mount. he was a rather good-looking young fellow, sunburnt and not very tall, but with a lithe active figure, red-brown eyes and a long mustache of tawny chestnut. he wore spurs and a broad-brimmed sombrero, and carried in his hand a whip which seemed two-thirds lash. as he put his foot into the stirrup, he turned for another look at clover, whom he had rather stared at while passing, and then changing his intention, took it out again, and came toward them. "i beg your pardon," he said; "but aren't you--isn't it--clover carr?" "yes," said clover, wondering, but still without the least notion as to whom the stranger might be. "you've forgotten me?" went on the young man, with a smile which made his face very bright. "that's rather hard too; for i knew you at once. i suppose i'm a good deal changed, though, and perhaps i shouldn't have made you out except for your eyes; they're just the same. why, clover, i'm your cousin, clarence page!" "clarence page!" cried clover, joyfully; "not really! why, clarence, i never should have known you in the world, and i can't think how you came to know me. i was only fourteen when i saw you last, and you were quite a little boy. what good luck that we should meet, and on our first day too! some one wrote that you were in colorado, but i had no idea that you lived at st. helen's." "i don't; not much. i'm living on a ranch out that way," jerking his elbow toward the northwest, "but i ride in often to get the mail. have you just come? you said the first day." "yes; we only got here this morning. and this is my brother phil. don't you recollect how i used to tell you about him at ashburn?" "i should think you did," shaking hands cordially; "she used to talk about you all the time, so that i felt intimately acquainted with all the family. well, i call this first rate luck. it's two years since i saw any one from home." "home?" "well; the east, you know. it all seems like home when you're out here. and i mean any one that i know, of course. people from the east come out all the while. they are as thick as bumblebees at st. helen's, but they don't amount to much unless you know them. have you seen anything of mother and lilly since they got back from europe, clover?" "no, indeed. i haven't seen them since we left hillsover. katy has, though. she met them in nice when she was there, and they sent her a wedding present. you knew that she was married, didn't you?" "yes, i got her cards. pa sent them. he writes oftener than the others do; and he came out once and stayed a month on the ranch with me. that was while mother was in europe. where are you stopping? the shoshone, i suppose." "no, at a quieter place,--mrs. marsh's, on the same street." "oh, i know mother marsh. i went there when i first came out, and had caught the mountain fever, and she was ever so kind to me. i'm glad you are there. she's a nice woman." "how far away is your ranch?" "about sixteen miles. oh, i say, clover, you and phil must come out and stay with us sometime this summer. we'll have a round-up for you if you will." "what is a 'round-up' and who is 'us'?" said clover, smiling. "well, a round-up is a kind of general muster of the stock. all the animals are driven in and counted, and the young ones branded. it's pretty exciting sometimes, i can tell you, for the cattle get wild, and it's all we can do to manage them. you should see some of our boys ride; it's splendid, and there's one half-breed that's the best hand with the lasso i ever saw. phil will like it, i know. and 'us' is me and my partner." "have you a partner?" "yes, two, in fact; but one of them lives in new mexico just now, so he does not count. that's bert talcott. he's a new york fellow. the other's english, a devonshire man. geoff templestowe is his name." "is he nice?" "you can just bet your pile that he is," said clarence, who seemed to have assimilated western slang with the rest of the west. "wait till i bring him to see you. we'll come in on purpose some day soon. well, i must be going. good-by, clover; good-by, phil. it's awfully jolly to have you here." "i never should have guessed who it was," remarked clover, as they watched the active figure canter down the street and turn for a last flourish of the hat. "he was the roughest, scrubbiest boy when we last met. what a fine-looking fellow he has grown to be, and how well he rides!" "no wonder; a fellow who can have a horse whenever he has a mind to," said phil, enviously. "life on a ranch must be great fun, i think." "yes; in one way, but pretty rough and lonely too, sometimes. it will be nice to go out and see clarence's, if we can get some lady to go with us, won't it?" "well, just don't let it be mrs. watson, whoever else it is. she would spoil it all if she went." "now, philly, don't. we're supposed to be leaning on her for support." "oh, come now, lean on that old thing! why she couldn't support a postage stamp standing edgewise, as the man says in the play. do you suppose i don't know how you have to look out for her and do everything? she's not a bit of use." "yes; but you and i have got to be polite to her, philly. we mustn't forget that." "oh, i'll be polite enough, if she will just leave us alone," retorted phil. promising! chapter vii. making acquaintance. phil was better than his word. he was never uncivil to mrs. watson, and his distant manners, which really signified distaste, were set down by that lady to boyish shyness. "they often are like that when they are young," she told clover; "but they get bravely over it after a while. he'll outgrow it, dear, and you mustn't let it worry you a bit." meanwhile, mrs. watson's own flow of conversation was so ample that there was never any danger of awkward silences when she was present, which was a comfort. she had taken clover into high favor now, and clover deserved it,--for though she protected herself against encroachments, and resolutely kept the greater part of her time free for phil, she was always considerate, and sweet in manner to the older lady, and she found spare half-hours every day in which to sit and go out with her, so that she should not feel neglected. mrs. watson grew quite fond of her "young friend," though she stood a little in awe of her too, and was disposed to be jealous if any one showed more attention to clover than to herself. an early outburst of this feeling came on the third day after their arrival, when mrs. hope asked phil and clover to dinner, and did _not_ ask mrs. watson. she had discussed the point with her husband, but the doctor "jumped on" the idea forcibly, and protested that if that old thing was to come too, he would "have a consultation in pueblo, and be off in the five thirty train, sure as fate." "it's not that i care," mrs. watson assured clover plaintively. "i've had so much done for me all my life that of course--but i _do_ like to be properly treated. it isn't as if i were just anybody. i don't suppose mrs. hope knows much about boston society anyway, but still--and i should think a girl from south framingham (didn't you say she was from south framingham?) would at least know who the abraham peabodys are, and they're henry's--but i don't imagine she was much of anybody before she was married; and out here it's all hail fellow and well met, they say, though in that case i don't see--well, well, it's no matter, only it seems queer to me; and i think you'd better drop a hint about it when you're there, and just explain that my daughter lives next door to the lieutenant-governor when she is in the country, and opposite the assistant-bishop in town, and has one of the harvard overseers for a near neighbor, and is distantly related to the reveres! you'd think even a south framingham girl must know about the lantern and the old south, and how much they've always been respected at home." clover pacified her as well as she could, by assurances that it was not a dinner-party, and they were only asked to meet one girl whom mrs. hope wanted her to know. "if it were a large affair, i am sure you would have been asked too," she said, and so left her "old woman of the sea" partly consoled. it was the most lovely evening possible, as clover and phil walked down the street toward dr. hope's. soft shadows lay over the lower spurs of the ranges. the canyons looked black and deep, but the peaks still glittered in rosy light. the mesa was in shadow, but the nearer plain lay in full sunshine, hot and yellow, and the west wind was full of mountain fragrance. phil gave little skips as he went along. already he seemed like a different boy. all the droop and languor had gone, and given place to an exhilaration which half frightened clover, who had constant trouble in keeping him from doing things which she knew to be imprudent. dr. hope had warned her that invalids often harmed themselves by over-exertion under the first stimulus of the high air. "why, how queer!" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly before one of the pretty places just above mrs. marsh's boarding-house. "what?" "don't you see? that yard! when we came by here yesterday it was all green grass and rose-bushes, and girls were playing croquet; and now, look, it's a pond!" sure enough! there were the rose-bushes still, and the croquet arches; but they were standing, so to speak, up to their knees in pools of water, which seemed several inches deep, and covered the whole place, with the exception of the flagged walks which ran from the gates to the front and side doors of the house. clover noticed now, for the first time, that these walks were several inches higher than the grass-beds on either side. she wondered if they were made so on purpose, and resolved to notice if the next place had the same arrangement. but as they reached the next place and the next, lo! the phenomenon was repeated and dr. hope's lawn too was in the same condition,--everything was overlaid with water. they began to suspect what it must mean, and mrs. hope confirmed the suspicion. it was irrigation day in mountain avenue, it seemed. every street in the town had its appointed period when the invaluable water, brought from a long distance for the purpose, was "laid on" and kept at a certain depth for a prescribed number of hours. "we owe our grass and shrubs and flower-beds entirely to this arrangement," mrs. hope told them. "nothing could live through our dry summers if we did not have the irrigating system." "are the summers so dry?" asked clover. "it seems to me that we have had a thunder-storm almost every day since we came." "we do have a good many thunderstorms," mrs. hope admitted; "but we can't depend on them for the gardens." "and did you ever hear such magnificent thunder?" asked dr. hope. "colorado thunder beats the world." "wait till you see our magnificent colorado hail," put in mrs. hope, wickedly. "that beats the world, too. it cuts our flowers to pieces, and sometimes kills the sheep on the plains. we are very proud of it. the doctor thinks everything in colorado perfection." "i have always pitied places which had to be irrigated," remarked clover, with her eyes fixed on the little twin-lakes which yesterday were lawns. "but i begin to think i was mistaken. it's very superior, of course, to have rains; but then at the east we sometimes don't have rain when we want it, and the grass gets dreadfully yellow. don't you remember, phil, how hard katy and i worked last summer to keep the geraniums and fuschias alive in that long drought? now, if we had had water like this to come once a week, and make a nice deep pond for us, how different it would have been!" "oh, you must come out west for real comfort," said dr. hope. "the east is a dreadfully one-horse little place, anyhow." "but you don't mean new york and boston when you say 'one-horse little place,' surely?" "don't i?" said the undaunted doctor. "wait till you see more of us out here." "here's poppy, at last," cried mrs. hope, as a girl came hurriedly up the walk. "you're late, dear." "poppy," whose real name was marian chase, was the girl who had been asked to meet them. she was a tall, rosy creature, to whom clover took an instant fancy, and seemed in perfect health; yet she told them that when she came out to colorado three years before, she had travelled on a mattress, with a doctor and a trained nurse in attendance. "your brother will be as strong, or stronger than i at the end of a year," she said; "or if he doesn't get well as fast as he ought, you must take him up to the ute valley. that's where i made my first gain." "where is the valley?" "thirty miles away to the northwest,--up there among the mountains. it is a great deal higher than this, and such a lovely peaceful place. i hope you'll go there." "we shall, of course, if phil needs it; but i like st. helen's so much that i would rather stay here if we can." dinner was now announced, and mrs. hope led the way into a pretty room hung with engravings and old plates after the modern fashion, where a white-spread table stood decorated with wild-flowers, candle-sticks with little red-shaded tapers, and a pyramid of plums and apricots. there was the usual succession of soup and fish and roast and salad which one looks for at a dinner on the sea-level, winding up with ice-cream of a highly civilized description, but clover could scarcely eat for wondering how all these things had come there so soon, so very soon. it seemed like magic,--one minute the solemn peaks and passes, the prairie-dogs and the thorny plain, the next all these portières and rugs and etchings and down pillows and pretty devices in glass and china, as if some enchanter's wand had tapped the wilderness, and hey, presto! modern civilization had sprung up like jonah's gourd all in a minute, or like the palace which aladdin summoned into being in a single night for the occupation of the princess of china, by the rubbing of his wonderful lamp. and then, just as the fruit-plates were put on the table, came a call, and the doctor was out in the hall, "holloing" and conducting with some distant patient one of those mysterious telephonic conversations which to those who overhear seem all replies and no questions. it was most remarkable, and quite unlike her preconceived ideas of what was likely to take place at the base of the rocky mountains. a pleasant evening followed. "poppy" played delightfully on the piano; later came a rubber of whist. it was like home. "before these children go, let us settle about the drive," said dr. hope to his wife. "oh, yes! miss carr--" "oh, please, won't you call me clover?" "indeed i will,--clover, then,--we want to take you for a good long drive to-morrow, and show you something; but the trouble is, the doctor and i are at variance as to what the something shall be. i want you to see odin's garden; and the doctor insists that you ought to go to the cheyenne canyons first, because those are his favorites. now, which shall it be? we will leave it to you." "but how can i choose? i don't know either of them. what a queer name,--odin's garden!" "i'll tell you how to settle it," cried marian chase, whose nickname it seemed had been given her because when she first came to st. helen's she wore a bunch of poppies in her hat. "take them to cheyenne to-morrow; and the next day--or thursday--let me get up a picnic for odin's garden; just a few of our special cronies,--the allans and the blanchards and mary pelham and will amory. will you, dear mrs. hope, and be our matron? that would be lovely." mrs. hope consented, and clover walked home as if treading on air. was this the st. helen's to which she had looked forward with so much dread,--this gay, delightful place, where such pleasant things happened, and people were so kind? how she wished that she could get at katy and papa for five minutes--on a wishing carpet or something--to tell them how different everything was from what she had expected. one thing only marred her anticipations for the morrow, which was the fear that mrs. watson might be hurt, and make a scene. happily, mrs. hope's thoughts took the same direction; and by some occult process of influence, the use of which good wives understand, she prevailed on her refractory doctor to allow the old lady to be asked to join the party. so early next morning came a very polite note; and it was proposed that phil should ride the doctor's horse, and act as escort to miss chase, who was to go on horseback likewise. no proposal could have been more agreeable to phil, who adored horses, and seldom had the chance to mount one; so every one was pleased, and mrs. watson preened her ancestral feathers with great satisfaction. "you see, dear, how well it was to give that little hint about the reveres and the abraham peabodys," she said. clover felt dreadfully dishonest; but she dared not confess that she had forgotten all about the hint, still less that she had never meant to give one. "the better part of valor is discretion," she remembered; so she held her peace, though her cheeks glowed guiltily. at three o'clock they set forth in a light roomy carriage,--not exactly a carryall, but of the carryall family,--with a pair of fast horses, miss chase and phil cantering happily alongside, or before or behind, just as it happened. the sun was very hot; but there was a delicious breeze, and the dryness and elasticity of the air made the heat easy to bear. the way lay across and down the southern slope of the plateau on which the town was built. then they came to splendid fields of grain and "afalfa,"--a cereal quite new to them, with broad, very green leaves. the roadside was gay with flowers,--gillias and mountain balm; high pink and purple spikes, like foxgloves, which they were told were pentstemons; painters' brush, whose green tips seemed dipped in liquid vermilion, and masses of the splendid wild poppies. they crossed a foaming little river; and a sharp turn brought them into a narrower and wilder road, which ran straight toward the mountain side. this was overhung by trees, whose shade was grateful after the hot sun. narrower and narrower grew the road, more and more sharp the turns. they were at the entrance of a deep defile, up which the road wound and wound, following the links of the river, which they crossed and recrossed repeatedly. such a wonderful and perfect little river, with water clear as air and cold as ice, flowing over a bed of smooth granite, here slipping noiselessly down long slopes of rock like thin films of glass, there deepening into pools of translucent blue-green like aqua-marine or beryl, again plunging down in mimic waterfalls, a sheet of iridescent foam. the sound of its rush and its ripple was like a laugh. never was such happy water, clover thought, as it curved and bent and swayed this way and that on its downward course as if moved by some merry, capricious instinct, like a child dancing as it goes. regiments or great ferns grew along its banks, and immense thickets of wild roses of all shades, from deep jacqueminot red to pale blush-white. here and there rose a lonely spike of yucca, and in the little ravines to right and left grew in the crevices of the rocks clumps of superb straw-colored columbines four feet high. looking up, clover saw above the tree-tops strange pinnacles and spires and obelisks which seemed air-hung, of purple-red and orange-tawny and pale pinkish gray and terra cotta, in which the sunshine and the cloud-shadows broke in a multiplicity of wonderful half-tints. above them was the dazzling blue of the colorado sky. she drew a long, long breath. "so this is a canyon," she said. "how glad i am that i have lived to see one." "yes, this is a canyon," dr. hope replied. "some of us think it _the_ canyon; but there are dozens of others, and no two of them are alike. i'm glad you are pleased with this, for it's my favorite. i wish your father could see it." clover hardly understood what he said she was so fascinated and absorbed. she looked up at the bright pinnacles, down at the flowers and the sheen of the river-pools and the mad rush of its cascades, and felt as though she were in a dream. through the dream she caught half-comprehended fragments of conversation from the seat behind. mrs. watson was giving her impressions of the scenery. "it's pretty, i suppose," she remarked; "but it's so very queer, and i'm not used to queer things. and this road is frightfully narrow. if a load of hay or a big concord coach should come along, i can't think what we should do. i see that dr. hope drives carefully, but yet--you don't think we shall meet anything of the kind to-day, do you, doctor?" "not a concord coach, and certainly not a hay-wagon, for they don't make hay up here in the mountains." "well, that is a relief. i didn't know. ellen she always says, 'mother, you're a real fidget;' but when one grows old, and has valves in the heart as i have, you never--we might meet one of those big pedler's wagons, though, and they frighten horses worse than anything. oh, what's that coming now? let us get out, dr. hope; pray, let us all get out." "sit still, ma'am," said the doctor, sternly, for mrs. watson was wildly fumbling at the fastening of the door. "mary, put your arm round mrs. watson, and hold her tight. there'll be a real accident, sure as fate, if you don't." then in a gentler tone, "it's only a buggy, ma'am; there's plenty of room. there's no possible risk of a pedler's wagon. what on earth should a pedler be doing up here on the side of cheyenne! prairie-dogs don't use pomatum or tin-ware." "oh, i didn't know," repeated poor mrs. watson, nervously. she watched the buggy timorously till it was safely past; then her spirits revived. "well," she cried, "we're safe this time; but i call it tempting providence to drive so fast on such a rough road. if all canyons are as wild as this, i sha'n't ever venture to go into another." "bless me! this is one of our mildest specimens," said dr. hope, who seemed to have a perverse desire to give mrs. watson a distaste for canyons. "this is a smooth one; but some canyons are really rough. do you remember, mary, the day we got stuck up at the top of the westmoreland, and had to unhitch the horses, and how i stood in the middle of the creek and yanked the carriage round while you held them? that was the day we heard the mountain lion, and there were fresh bear-tracks all over the mud, you remember." "good gracious!" cried mrs. watson, quite pale; "what an awful place! bears and lions! what on earth did you go there for?" "oh, purely for pleasure," replied the doctor, lightly. "we don't mind such little matters out west. we try to accustom ourselves to wild beasts, and make friends of them." "john, don't talk such nonsense," cried his wife, quite angrily. "mrs. watson, you mustn't believe a word the doctor says. i've lived in colorado nine years; and i've never once seen a mountain lion, or a bear either, except the stuffed ones in the shops. don't let the doctor frighten you." but dr. hope's wicked work was done. mrs. watson, quite unconvinced by these well-meant assurances, sat pale and awe-struck, repeating under her breath,-- "dreadful! what _will_ ellen say? bears and lions! oh, dear me!" "look, look!" cried clover, who had not listened to a word of this conversation; "did you ever see anything so lovely?" she referred to what she was looking at,--a small point of pale straw-colored rock some hundreds of feet in height, which a turn in the road had just revealed, soaring above the tops of the trees. "i don't see that it's lovely at all," said mrs. watson, testily. "it's unnatural, if that's what you mean. rocks ought not to be that color. they never are at the east. it looks to me exactly like an enormous unripe banana standing on end." this simile nearly "finished" the party. "it's big enough to disagree with all the sunday-schools in creation at once," remarked the doctor, between his shouts, while even clover shook with laughter. mrs. watson felt that she had made a hit, and grew complacent again. "see what your brother picked for me," cried poppy, riding alongside, and exhibiting a great sheaf of columbine tied to the pommel of her saddle. "and how do you like north cheyenne? isn't it an exquisite place?" "perfectly lovely; i feel as if i must come here every day." "yes, i know; but there are so many other places out here about which you have that feeling." "now we will show you the other cheyenne canyon,--the twin of this," said dr. hope; "but you must prepare your mind to find it entirely different." after rather a rough mile or two through woods, they came to a wooden shed, or shanty, at the mouth of a gorge, and here dr. hope drew up his horses, and helped them all out. "is it much of a walk?" asked mrs. watson. "it is rather long and rather steep," said mrs. hope; "but it is lovely if you only go a little way in, and you and i will sit down the moment you feel tired, and let the others go forward." south cheyenne canyon was indeed "entirely different." instead of a green-floored, vine-hung ravine, it is a wild mountain gorge, walled with precipitous cliffs of great height; and its river--every canyon has a river--comes from a source at the top of the gorge in a series of mad leaps, forming seven waterfalls, which plunge into circular basins of rock, worn smooth by the action of the stream. these pools are curiously various in shape, and the color of the water, as it pauses a moment to rest in each before taking its next plunge, is beautiful. little plank walks are laid along the river-side, and rude staircases for the steepest pitches. up these the party went, leaving mrs. watson and mrs. hope far behind,--poppy with her habit over her arm, clover stopping every other moment to pick some new flower, phil shying stones into the rapids as he passed,--till the top of the topmost cascade was reached, and looking back they could see the whole wonderful way by which they had climbed, and down which the river made its turbulent rush. clover gathered a great mat of green scarlet-berried vine like glorified cranberry, which dr. hope told her was the famous kinnikinnick, and was just remarking on the cool water-sounds which filled the place, when all of a sudden these sounds seemed to grow angry, the defile of precipices turned a frowning blue, and looking up they saw a great thunder-cloud gathering overhead. "we must run," cried dr. hope, and down they flew, racing at full speed along the long flights of steps and the plank walks, which echoed to the sound of their flying feet. far below they could see two fast-moving specks which they guessed to be mrs. hope and mrs. watson, hurrying to a place of shelter. nearer and nearer came the storm, louder the growl of the thunder, and great hail-stones pattered on their heads before they gained the cabin; none too soon, for in another moment the cloud broke, and the air was full of a dizzy whirl of sleet and rain. others besides themselves had been surprised in the ravine, and every few minutes another and another wet figure would come flying down the path, so that the little refuge was soon full. the storm lasted half an hour, then it scattered as rapidly as it had come, the sun broke out brilliantly, and the drive home would have been delightful if it had not been for the sad fact that mrs. watson had left her parasol in the carriage, and it had been wet, and somewhat stained by the india-rubber blanket which had been thrown over it for protection. her lamentations were pathetic. "jane phillips gave it to me,--she was a sampson, you know,--and i thought ever so much of it. it was at hovey's--we were there together, and i admired it; and she said, 'mrs. watson, you must let me--' six dollars was the price of it. that's a good deal for a parasol, you know, unless it's really a nice one; but hovey's things are always--i had the handle shortened a little just before i came away, too, so that it would go into my trunk; it had to be mended anyhow, so that it seemed a good--dear, dear! and now it's spoiled! what a pity i left it in the carriage! i shall know better another time, but this climate is so different. it never rains in this way at home. it takes a little while about it, and gives notice; and we say that there's going to be a northeaster, or that it looks like a thunder-storm, and we put on our second-best clothes or we stay at home. it's a great deal nicer, i think." "i am so sorry," said kind little mrs. hope. "our storms out here do come up very suddenly. i wish i had noticed that you had left your parasol. well, clover, you've had a chance now to see the doctor's beautiful colorado hail and thunder to perfection. how do you like them?" "i like everything in colorado, i believe," replied clover, laughing. "i won't even except the hail." "she's the girl for this part of the world," cried dr. hope, approvingly. "she'd make a first-rate pioneer. we'll keep her out here, mary, and never let her go home. she was born to live at the west." "was i? it seems queer then that i should have been born to live in burnet." "oh, we'll change all that." "i'm sure i don't see how." "there are ways and means," oracularly. mrs. watson was so cast down by the misadventure to her parasol that she expressed no regret at not being asked to join in the picnic next day, especially as she understood that it consisted of young people. mrs. hope very rightly decided that a whole day out of doors, in a rough place, would give pain rather than pleasure to a person who was both so feeble and so fussy, and did not suggest her going. clover and phil waked up quite fresh and untired after a sound night's sleep. there seemed no limit to what might be done and enjoyed in that inexhaustibly renovating air. odin's garden proved to be a wonderful assemblage of rocky shapes rising from the grass and flowers of a lonely little plain on the far side of the mesa, four or five miles from st. helen's. the name of the place came probably from something suggestive in the forms of the rocks, which reminded clover of pictures she had seen of assyrian and egyptian rock carvings. there were lion shapes and bull shapes like the rudely chiselled gods of some heathen worship; there were slender, points and obelisks three hundred feet high; and something suggesting a cat-faced deity, and queer similitudes of crocodiles and apes,--all in the strange orange and red and pale yellow formations of the region. it was a wonderful rather than a beautiful place; but the day was spent very happily under those mysterious stones, which, as the long afternoon shadows gathered over the plain, and the sky glowed with sunset crimson which seemed like a reflection from the rocks themselves, became more mysterious still. of the merry young party which made up the picnic, seven out of nine had come to colorado for health; but no one would have guessed it, they seemed so well and so full of the enjoyment of life. altogether, it was a day to be marked; not with a white stone,--that would not have seemed appropriate to colorado,--but with a red one. clover, writing about it afterward to elsie, felt that her descriptions to sober stay-at-homes might easily sound overdrawn and exaggerated, and wound up her letter thus:-- "perhaps you think that i am romancing; but i am not a bit. every word i say is perfectly true, only i have not made the colors half bright or the things half beautiful enough. colorado is the most beautiful place in the world. [n.b.--clover had seen but a limited portion of the world so far.] i only wish you could all come out to observe for yourselves that i am not fibbing, though it sounds like it!" chapter viii. high valley. clover was putting phil's chamber to rights, and turning it into a sitting-room for the day, which was always her first task in the morning. they had been at st. helen's nearly three weeks now, and the place had taken on a very homelike appearance. all the books and the photographs were unpacked, the washstand had vanished behind a screen made of a three-leaved clothes-frame draped with chintz, while a ruffled cover of the same gay chintz, on which bunches of crimson and pink geraniums straggled over a cream-colored ground, gave to the narrow bed the air of a respectable wide sofa. "there! those look very nice, i think," she said, giving the last touch to a bowl full of beautiful garden roses. "how sweet they are!" "your young man seems rather clever about roses," remarked phil, who, boy-like, dearly loved to tease his sister. "my young man, as you call him, has a father with a gardener," replied clover, calmly; "no very brilliant cleverness is required for that." in a cordial, kindly place, like st. helen's, people soon make acquaintances, and clover and phil felt as if they already knew half the people in the town. every one had come to see them and deluged them with flowers, and invitations to dine, to drive, to take tea. among the rest came mr. thurber wade, whom phil was pleased to call clover's young man,--the son of a rich new york banker, whose ill-health had brought him to live in st. helen's, and who had built a handsome house on the principal street. this gilded youth had several times sent roses to clover,--a fact which phil had noticed, and upon which he was fond of commenting. "speaking of young men," went on clover, "what do you suppose has become of clarence page? he said he should come in to see us soon; but that was ever so long ago." "he's a fraud, i suspect," replied phil, lazily, from his seat in the window. he had a geometry on his knees, and was supposed to be going on with his education, but in reality he was looking at the mountains. "i suppose people are pretty busy on ranches, though," he added. "perhaps they're sheep-shearing." "oh, it isn't a sheep ranch. don't you remember his saying that the cattle got very wild, and they had to ride after them? they wouldn't ride after sheep. i hope he hasn't forgotten about us. i was so glad to see him." while this talk went on, clarence was cantering down the lower end of the ute pass on his way to st. helen's. three hours later his name was brought up to them. "how nice!" cried clover. "i think as he's a relative we might let him come here, phil. it's so much pleasanter than the parlor." clarence, who had passed the interval of waiting in noting the different varieties of cough among the sick people in the parlor, was quite of her opinion. "how jolly you look!" was almost his first remark. "i'm glad you've got a little place of your own, and don't have to sit with those poor creatures downstairs all the time." "it is much nicer. some of them are getting better, though." "some of them aren't. there's one poor fellow in a reclining-chair who looks badly." "that's the one whose room mrs. watson has marked for her own. she asks him three times a day how he feels, with all the solicitude of a mother," said phil. "who's mrs. watson?" "well, she's an old lady who is somehow fastened to us, and who considers herself our chaperone," replied clover, with a little laugh. "i must introduce you by-and-by, but first we want a good talk all by ourselves. now tell us why you haven't come to see us before. we have been hoping for you every day." "well, i've wanted to come badly enough, but there has been a combination of hindrances. two of our men got sick, so there was more to do than usual; then geoff had to be away four days, and almost as soon as he got back he had bad news from home, and i hated to leave him alone." "what sort of bad news?" "his sister's dead." "poor fellow! in england too! you said he was english, didn't you?" "yes. she was married. her husband was a clergyman down in cornwall somewhere. she was older than geoff a good deal; but he was very fond of her, and the news cut him up dreadfully." "no wonder. it is horrible to hear such a thing when one is far from home," observed clover. she tried to realize how she should feel if word came to st. helen's of katy's death, or elsie's, or johnnie's; but her mind refused to accept the question. the very idea made her shiver. "poor fellow!" she said again; "what could you do for him, clarence?" "not much. i'm a poor hand at comforting any one,--men generally are, i guess. geoff knows i'm sorry for him; but it takes a woman to say the right thing at such times. we sit and smoke when the work's done, and i know what he's thinking about; but we don't say anything to each other. now let's speak of something else. i want to settle about your coming to high valley." "high valley? is that the name of your place?" "yes. i want you to see it. it's an awfully pretty place to my thinking,--not so very much higher than this, but you have to climb a good deal to get there. can't you come? this is just the time,--raspberries ripe, and lots of flowers wherever the beasts don't get at them. phil can have all the riding he wants, and it'll do poor geoff lots of good to see some one." "it would be very nice indeed," doubtfully; "but who could we get to go with us?" "i thought of that. we don't take much stock in mrs. grundy out here; but i supposed you'd want another lady. how would it be if i asked mrs. hope? the doctor's got to come out anyway to see one of our herders who's put his shoulder out in a fall. if he would drive you out, and mrs. hope would stay on, would you come for a week? i guess you'll like it." "i 'guess' we should," exclaimed clover, her face lighting up. "clarence, how delightful it sounds! it will be lovely to come if mrs. hope says yes." "then that's all right," replied clarence, looking extremely pleased. "i'll ride up to the doctor's as soon as dinner's over." "you'll dine with us, of course?" "oh, i always come to mother marsh for a bite whenever i stay over the day. she likes to have me. we've been great chums ever since i had fever here, and she took care of me." clover was amused at dinner to watch the cool deliberation with which clarence studied mrs. watson and her tortuous conversation, and, as he would have expressed it, "took stock of her." the result was not favorable, apparently. "what on earth did they send that old thing with you for?" he asked as soon as they went upstairs. "she's as much out of her element here as a canary-bird would be in a cyclone. she can't be any use to you, clover." "well, no; i don't think she is. it was a sort of mistake; i'll tell you about it sometime. but she likes to imagine that she's taking care of me; and as it does no harm, i let her." "taking care of you! great thunder! i wouldn't trust her to take care of a blue-eyed kitten," observed the irreverent clarence. "well, i'll ride up and settle with the hopes, and stop and let you know as i come back." mrs. hope and the doctor were not hard to persuade. in colorado, people keep their lamps of enjoyment filled and trimmed, so to speak, and their travelling energies ready girt about them, and easily adopt any plan which promises pleasure. the following day was fixed for the start, and clover packed her valise and phil's bag, with a sense of exhilaration and escape. she was, in truth, getting very tired of the exactions of mrs. watson. mrs. watson, on her part, did not at all approve of the excursion. "i think," she said, swelling with offended dignity, "that your cousin didn't know much about politeness when he left me out of his invitation and asked mrs. hope instead. yes, i know; the doctor had to go up anyway. that may be true, and it may not; but it doesn't alter the case. what am i to do, i should like to know, if the valves of my heart don't open, or don't shut--whichever it is--while i'm left all alone here among strangers?" "send for dr. hope," suggested phil. "he'll only be gone one night. clover doesn't know anything about valves." "my cousin lives in a rather rough way, i imagine," interposed clover, with a reproving look at phil. "he would hardly like to ask a stranger and an invalid to his house, when he might not be able to make her comfortable. mrs. hope has been there before, and she's an old friend." "oh, i dare say! there are always reasons. i don't say that i should have felt like going, but he ought to have asked me. ellen will be surprised, and so will--he's from ashburn too, and he must know the parmenters, and mrs. parmenter's brother's son is partner to henry's brother-in-law. it's of no consequence, of course,--still, respect--older people--boston--not used to--phillips--" mrs. watson's voice died away into fragmentary and inaudible lamentings. clover attempted no further excuse. her good sense told her that she had a perfect right to accept this little pleasure; that mrs. watson's plans for western travel had been formed quite independently of their own, and that papa would not wish her to sacrifice herself and phil to such unreasonable humors. still, it was not pleasant; and i am sorry to say that from this time dated a change of feeling on mrs. watson's part toward her "young friends." she took up a chronic position of grievance toward them, confided her wrongs to all new-comers, and met clover with an offended air which, though clover ignored it, did not add to the happiness of her life at mrs. marsh's. it was early in the afternoon when they started, and the sun was just dipping behind the mountain wall when they drove into the high valley. it was one of those natural parks, four miles long, which lie like heaven-planted gardens among the colorado ranges. the richest of grass clothed it; fine trees grew in clumps and clusters here and there; and the spaces about the house where fences of barbed wire defended the grass from the cattle, seemed a carpet of wild-flowers. clover exclaimed with delight at the view. the ranges which lapped and held the high, sheltered upland in embrace opened toward the south, and revealed a splendid lonely peak, on whose summit a drift of freshly-fallen snow was lying. the contrast with the verdure and bloom below was charming. the cabin--it was little more--stood facing this view, and was backed by a group of noble red cedars. it was built of logs, long and low, with a rude porch in front supported on unbarked tree trunks. two fine collies rushed to meet them, barking vociferously; and at the sound clarence hurried to the door. he met them with great enthusiasm, lifted out mrs. hope, then clover, and then began shouting for his chum, who was inside. "hollo, geoff! where are you? hurry up; they've come." then, as he appeared, "ladies and gentleman, my partner!" geoffrey templestowe was a tall, sinewy young englishman, with ruddy hair and beard, grave blue eyes, and an unmistakable air of good breeding. he wore a blue flannel shirt and high boots like clarence's, yet somehow he made clarence look a little rough and undistinguished. he was quiet in speech, reserved in manner, and seemed depressed and under a cloud; but clover liked his face at once. he looked both strong and kind, she thought. the house consisted of one large square room in the middle, which served as parlor and dining-room both, and on either side two bedrooms. the kitchen was in a separate building. there was no lack of comfort, though things were rather rude, and the place had a bare, masculine look. the floor was strewn with coyote and fox skins. two or three easy-chairs stood around the fireplace, in which, july as it was, a big log was blazing. their covers were shabby and worn; but they looked comfortable, and were evidently in constant use. there was not the least attempt at prettiness anywhere. pipes and books and old newspapers littered the chairs and tables; when an extra seat was needed clarence simply tipped a great pile of these on to the floor. a gun-rack hung upon the wall, together with sundry long stock-whips and two or three pairs of spurs, and a smell of tobacco pervaded the place. clover's eyes wandered to a corner where stood a small parlor organ, and over it a shelf of books. she rose to examine them. to her surprise they were all hymnals and church of england prayer-books. there were no others. she wondered what it meant. clarence had given up his own bedroom to phil, and was to chum with his friend. some little attempt had been made to adorn the rooms which were meant for the ladies. clean towels had been spread over the pine shelves which did duty for dressing-tables, and on each stood a tumbler stuffed as full as it could hold with purple pentstemons. clover could not help laughing, yet there was something pathetic to her in the clumsy, man-like arrangement. she relieved the tumbler by putting a few of the flowers in her dress, and went out again to the parlor, where mrs. hope sat by the fire, quizzing the two partners, who were hard at work setting their tea-table. it was rather a droll spectacle,--the two muscular young fellows creaking to and fro in their heavy boots, and taking such an infinitude of pains with their operations. one would set a plate on the table, and the other would forthwith alter its position slightly, or lift and scrutinize a tumbler and dust it sedulously with a glass-towel. each spoon was polished with the greatest particularity before it was laid on the tray; each knife passed under inspection. visitors were not an every-day luxury in the high valley, and too much care could not be taken for their entertainment, it seemed. supper was brought in by a chinese cook in a pigtail, wooden shoes, and a blue mother hubbard, choo loo by name. he was evidently a good cook, for the corn-bread and fresh mountain trout and the ham and eggs were savory to the last degree, and the flapjacks, with which the meal concluded, and which were eaten with a sauce of melted raspberry jelly, deserved even higher encomium. "we are willing to be treated as company this first night," observed mrs. hope; "but if you are going to keep us a week, you must let us make ourselves useful, and set the table and arrange the rooms for you." "we will begin to-morrow morning," added clover. "may we, clarence? may we play that it is our house, and do what we like, and change about and arrange things? it will be such fun." "fire away!" said her cousin, calmly. "the more you change the more we shall like it. geoff and i aren't set in our ways, and are glad enough to be let off duty for a week. the hut is yours just as long as you will stay; do just what you like with it. though we're pretty good housekeepers too, considering; don't you think so?" "do you believe he meant it?" asked clover, confidentially afterward of mrs. hope. "do you think they really wouldn't mind being tidied up a little? i should so like to give that room a good dusting, if it wouldn't vex them." "my dear, they will probably never know the difference except by a vague sense of improved comfort. men are dreadfully untidy, as a general thing, when left to themselves; but they like very well to have other people make things neat." "mr. templestowe told phil that they go off early in the morning and don't come back till breakfast at half-past seven; so if i wake early enough i shall try to do a little setting to rights before they come in." "and i'll come and help if i don't over-sleep," declared mrs. hope; "but this air makes me feel dreadfully as if i should." "i sha'n't call you," said clover; "but it will be nice to have you, if you come." she stood at her window after mrs. hope had gone, for a last look at the peak which glittered sharply in the light of the moon. the air was like scented wine. she drew a long breath. "how lovely it is!" she said to herself, and kissed her hand to the mountain. "good-night, you beautiful thing." she woke with the first beam of yellow sun, after eight hours of dreamless sleep, with a keen sense of renovation and refreshment. a great splashing was going on in the opposite wing, and manly voices hushed to suppressed tones were audible. then came a sound of boots on the porch; and peeping from behind her curtain, she saw clarence and his friend striding across the grass in the direction of the stock-huts. she glanced at her watch. it was a quarter past five. "now is my chance," she thought; and dressing rapidly, she put on a little cambric jacket, knotted her hair up, tied a handkerchief over it, and hurried into the sitting-room. her first act was to throw open all the windows to let out the smell of stale tobacco, her next to hunt for a broom. she found one at last, hanging on the door of a sort of store-closet, and moving the furniture as noiselessly as she could, she gave the room a rapid but effectual sweeping. while the dust settled, she stole out to a place on the hillside where the night before she had noticed some mariposa lilies growing, and gathered a large bunch. then she proceeded to dust and straighten, sorted out the newspapers, wiped the woodwork with a damp cloth, arranged the disorderly books, and set the breakfast-table. when all this was done, there was still time to finish her toilet and put her pretty hair in its accustomed coils and waves; so that clarence and mr. templestowe came in to find the fire blazing, the room bright and neat, mrs. hope sitting at the table in a pretty violet gingham ready to pour the coffee which choo loo had brought in, and clover, the good fairy of this transformation scene, in a fresh blue muslin, with a ribbon to match in her hair, just setting the mariposas in the middle of the table. their lilac-streaked bells nodded from a tall vase of ground glass. "oh, i say," cried clarence, "this _is_ something like! isn't it scrumptious, geoff? the hut never looked like this before. it's wonderful what a woman--no, two women," with a bow to mrs. hope--"can do toward making things pleasant. where did that vase come from, clover? we never owned anything so fine as that, i'm sure." "it came from my bag; and it's a present for you and mr. templestowe. i saw it in a shop-window yesterday; and it occurred to me that it might be just the thing for high valley, and fill a gap. and mrs. hope has brought you each a pretty coffee-cup." it was a merry meal. the pleasant look of the room, the little surprises, and the refreshment of seeing new and kindly faces, raised mr. templestowe's spirits, and warmed him out of his reserve. he grew cheerful and friendly. clarence was in uproarious spirits, and phil even worse. it seemed as if the air of the high valley had got into his head. dr. hope left at noon, after making a second visit to the lame herder, and mrs. hope and clover settled themselves for a week of enjoyment. they were alone for hours every day, while their young hosts were off on the ranch, and they devoted part of this time to various useful and decorative arts. they took all manner of liberties, poked about and rummaged, mended, sponged, assorted, and felt themselves completely mistresses of the situation. a note to marian chase brought up a big parcel by stage to the ute valley, four miles away, from which it was fetched over by a cow-boy on horseback; and clover worked away busily at scrim curtains for the windows, while mrs. hope shaped a slip cover of gay chintz for the shabbiest of the armchairs, hemmed a great square of gold-colored canton flannel for the bare, unsightly table, and made a bright red pincushion apiece for the bachelor quarters. the sitting-room took on quite a new aspect, and every added touch gave immense satisfaction to "the boys," as mrs. hope called them, who thoroughly enjoyed the effect of these ministrations, though they had not the least idea how to produce it themselves. creature comforts were not forgotten. the two ladies amused themselves with experiments in cookery. the herders brought a basket of wild raspberries, and clover turned them into jam for winter use. clarence gloated over the little white pots, and was never tired of counting them. they looked so like new england, he declared, that he felt as if he must get a girl at once, and go and walk in the graveyard,--a pastime which he remembered as universal in his native town. various cakes and puddings appeared to attest the industry of the housekeepers; and on the only wet evening, when a wild thunder-gust was sweeping down the valley, they had a wonderful candy-pull, and made enough to give all the cow-boys a treat. it must not be supposed that all their time went in these domestic pursuits. no, indeed. mrs. hope had brought her own side-saddle, and had borrowed one for clover; the place was full of horses, and not a day passed without a long ride up or down the valley, and into the charming little side canyons which opened from it. a spirited broncho, named sorrel, had been made over to phil's use for the time of his stay, and he was never out of the saddle when he could help it, except to eat and sleep. he shared in the herders' wild gallops after stock, and though clover felt nervous about the risks he ran, whenever she took time to think them over, he was so very happy that she had not the heart to interfere or check his pleasure. she and mrs. hope rode out with the gentlemen on the great day of the round-up, and, stationed at a safe point a little way up the hillside, watched the spectacle,--the plunging, excited herd, the cow-boys madly galloping, swinging their long whips and lassos, darting to and fro to head off refractory beasts or check the tendency to stampede. both clarence and geoffrey templestowe were bold and expert riders; but the mexican and texan herders in their employ far surpassed them. the ladies had never seen anything like it. phil and his broncho were in the midst of things, of course, and had one or two tumbles, but nothing to hurt them; only clover was very thankful when it was all safely over. in their rides and scrambling walks it generally happened that clarence took possession of clover, and left geoff in charge of mrs. hope. cousinship and old friendship gave him a right, he considered, and he certainly took full advantage of it. clover liked clarence; but there were moments when she felt that she would rather enjoy the chance to talk more with mr. templestowe, and there was a look in his eyes now and then which seemed to say that he might enjoy it too. but clarence did not observe this look, and he had no idea of sharing his favorite cousin with any one, if he could help it. sunday brought the explanation of the shelf full of prayer-books which had puzzled them on their first arrival. there was no church within reach; and it was geoff's regular custom, it seemed, to hold a little service for the men in the valley. almost all of them came, except the few mexicans, who were roman catholics, and the room was quite full. geoff read the service well and reverently, gave out the hymns, and played the accompaniments for them, closing with a brief bit of a sermon by the elder arnold. it was all done simply and as a matter of course, and clarence seemed to join in it with much good-will; but clover privately wondered whether the idea of doing such a thing would have entered into his head had he been left alone, or, if so, whether he would have cared enough about it to carry it out regularly. she doubted. whatever the shortcomings of the church of england may be, she certainly trains her children into a devout observance of sunday. the next day, monday, was to be their last,--a fact lamented by every one, particularly phil, who regarded the high valley as a paradise, and would gladly have remained there for the rest of his natural life. clover hated to take him away; but dr. hope had warned her privately that a week would be enough of it, and that with phil's tendency to overdo, too long a stay would be undesirable. so she stood firm, though clarence urged a delay, and phil seconded the proposal with all his might. the very pleasantest moment of the visit perhaps came on that last afternoon, when geoff got her to himself for once, and took her up a trail where she had not yet been, in search of scarlet pentstemons to carry back to st. helen's. they found great sheaves of the slender stems threaded, as it were, with jewel-like blossoms; but what was better still, they had a talk, and clover felt that she had now a new friend. geoff told her of his people at home, and a little about the sister who had lately died; only a little,--he could not yet trust himself to talk long about her. clover listened with frank and gentle interest. she liked to hear about the old grange at the head of a chine above clovelley, where geoff was born, and which had once been full of boys and girls, now scattered in the english fashion to all parts of the world. there was ralph with his regiment in india,--he was the heir, it seemed,--and jim and jack in australia, and oliver with his wife and children in new zealand, and allen at harrow, and another boy fitting for the civil service. there was a married sister in scotland, and another in london; and isabel, the youngest of all, still at home,--the light of the house, and the special pet of the old squire and of geoff's mother, who, he told clover, had been a great beauty in her youth, and though nearly seventy, was in his eyes beautiful still. "it's pretty quiet there for isabel," he said; "but she has my sister helen's two children to care for, and that will keep her busy. i used to think she'd come out to me one of these years for a twelvemonth; but there's little chance of her being spared now." clover's sympathy did not take the form of words. it looked out of her eyes, and spoke in the hushed tones of her soft voice. geoff felt that it was there, and it comforted him. the poor fellow was very lonely in those days, and inclined to be homesick, as even a manly man sometimes is. "what an awful time adam must have had of it before eve came!" growled clarence, that evening, as they sat around the fire. "he had a pretty bad time after she came, if i remember," said clover, laughing. "ah, but he had _her_!" "stuff and nonsense! he was a long shot happier without her and her old apple, i think," put in phil. "you fellows don't know when you're well off." everybody laughed. "phil's notion of paradise is the high valley and sorrel, and no girls about to bother and tell him not to get too tired," remarked clover. "it's a fair vision; but like all fair visions it must end." and end it did next day, when dr. hope appeared with the carriage, and the bags and saddles were put in, and the great bundle of wild-flowers, with their stems tied in wet moss; and phil, torn from his beloved broncho, on whose back he had passed so many happy hours, was forced to accompany the others back to civilization. "i shall see you very soon," said clarence, tucking the lap-robe round clover. "there's the mail to fetch, and other things. i shall be riding in every day or two." "i shall see you very soon," said geoff, on the other side. "clarence is not coming without me, i can assure you." then the carriage drove away; and the two partners went back into the house, which looked suddenly empty and deserted. "i'll tell you what!" began clarence. "and i'll tell _you_ what!" rejoined geoff. "a house isn't worth a red cent which hasn't a woman in it." "you might ride down and ask miss perkins to step up and adorn our lives," said his friend, grimly. miss perkins was a particularly rigid spinster who taught a school six miles distant, and for whom clarence entertained a particular distaste. "you be hanged! i don't mean that kind. i mean--" "the nice kind, like mrs. hope and your cousin. well, i'm agreed." "i shall go down after the mail to-morrow," remarked clarence, between the puffs of his pipe. "so shall i." "all right; come along!" but though the words sounded hearty, the tone rather belied them. clarence was a little puzzled by and did not quite like this newborn enthusiasm on the part of his comrade. chapter ix. over a pass. true to their resolve, the young heads of the high valley ranch rode together to st. helen's next day,--ostensibly to get their letters; in reality to call on their late departed guests. they talked amicably as they went; but unconsciously each was watching the other's mood and speech. to like the same girl makes young men curiously observant of each other. a disappointment was in store for them. they had taken it for granted that clover would be as disengaged and as much at their service as she had been in the valley; and lo! she sat on the piazza with a knot of girls about her, and a young man in an extremely "fetching" costume of snow-white duck, with a flower in his button-hole, was bending over her chair, and talking in a low voice of something which seemed of interest. he looked provokingly cool and comfortable to the dusty horsemen, and very much at home. phil, who lounged against the piazza-rail opposite, dispensed an enormous and meaning wink at his two friends as they came up the steps. clover jumped up from her chair, and gave them a most cordial reception. "how delightful to see you again so soon!" she said. then she introduced them to a girl in pink and a girl in blue as miss perham and miss blanchard, and they shook hands with marian chase, whom they already knew, and lastly were presented to mr. wade, the youth in white. the three young men eyed one another with a not very friendly scrutiny, just veiled by the necessary outward politeness. "then you will be all ready for thursday,--and your brother too, of course,--and my mother will stop for you at half-past ten on her way down," they heard him say. "miss chase will go with the hopes. oh, yes; there will be plenty of room. no danger about that. we're almost sure to have good weather too. good-morning. i'm so glad you enjoyed the roses." there was a splendid cluster of jacqueminot buds in clover's dress, at which clarence glared wrathfully as he caught these words. the only consolation was that the creature in duck was going. he was making his last bows; and one of the girls went with him, which still farther reduced the number of what in his heart clarence stigmatized as "a crowd." "i must go too," said the girl in blue. "good-by, clover. i shall run in a minute to-morrow to talk over the last arrangements for thursday." "what's going to happen on thursday?" growled clarence as soon as she had departed. "oh, such a delightful thing," cried clover, sparkling and dimpling. "old mr. wade, the father of young mr. wade, whom you saw just now, is a director on the railroad, you know; and they have given him the director's car to take a party over the marshall pass, and he has asked phil and me to go. it is _such_ a surprise. ever since we came to st. helen's, people have been telling us what a beautiful journey it is; but i never supposed we should have the chance to take it. mrs. hope is going too, and the doctor, and miss chase and miss perham,--all the people we know best, in fact. isn't it nice?" "oh, certainly; very nice," replied clarence, in a tone of deep offence. he was most unreasonably in the sulks. clover glanced at him with surprise, and then at geoff, who was talking to marian. he looked a little serious, and not so bright as in the valley; but he was making himself very pleasant, notwithstanding. surely he had the same causes for annoyance as clarence; but his breeding forbade him to show whatever inward vexation he may have felt,--certainly not to allow it to influence his manners. clover drew a mental contrast between the two which was not to clarence's advantage. "who's that fellow anyway?" demanded clarence. "how long have you known him? what business has he to be bringing you roses, and making up parties to take you off on private cars?" something in clover's usually soft eyes made him stop suddenly. "i beg your pardon," he said in an altered tone. "i really think you should," replied clover, with pretty dignity. then she moved away, and began to talk to geoff, whose grave courtesy at once warmed into cheer and sun. clarence, thus left a prey to remorse, was wretched. he tried to catch clover's eye, but she wouldn't look at him. he leaned against the balustrade moody and miserable. phil, who had watched these various interludes with interest, indicated his condition to clover with another telegraphic wink. she glanced across, relented, and made clarence a little signal to come and sit by her. after that all went happily. clover was honestly delighted to see her two friends again. and now that clarence had recovered from his ill-temper, there was nothing to mar their enjoyment. geoff's horse had cast a shoe on the way down, it seemed, and must be taken to the blacksmith's, so they did not stay very long; but it was arranged that they should come back to dinner at mrs. marsh's. "what a raving belle you are!" remarked marian chase, as the young men rode away. "three is a good many at a time, though, isn't it?" "three what?" "three--hem! leaves--to one clover!" "it's the usual allowance, i believe. if there were four, now--" "oh, i dare say there will be. they seem to collect round you like wasps round honey. it's some natural law, i presume,--gravitation or levitation, which is it?" "i'm sure i don't know, and don't try to tease me, poppy. people out here are so kind that it's enough to spoil anybody." "kind, forsooth! do you consider it all pure kindness? really, for such a belle, you're very innocent." "i wish you wouldn't," protested clover, laughing and coloring. "i never was a belle in my life, and that's the second time you've called me that. nobody ever said such things to me in burnet." "ah, you had to come to colorado to find out how attractive you could be. burnet must be a very quiet place. never mind; you sha'n't be teased, clover dear. only don't let this trefoil of yours get to fighting with one another. that good-looking cousin of yours was casting quite murderous glances at poor thurber wade just now." "clarence is a dear boy; but he's rather spoiled and not quite grown up yet, i think." "when are you coming back from the marshall pass?" inquired geoff, after dinner, when clarence had gone for the horses. "on saturday. we shall only be gone two days." "then i will ride in on thursday morning, if you will permit, with my field-glass. it is a particularly good one, and you may find it useful for the distant views." "when are you coming back?" demanded clarence, a little later. "saturday? then i sha'n't be in again before monday." "won't you want your letters?" "oh, i guess there won't be any worth coming for till then." "not a letter from your mother?" "she only writes once in a while. most of what i get comes from pa." "cousin olivia never did seem to care much for clarence," remarked clover, after they were gone. "he would have been a great deal nicer if he had had a pleasanter time at home. it makes such a difference with boys. now mr. templestowe has a lovely mother, i'm sure." "oh!" was all the reply that phil would vouchsafe. "how queer people are!" thought little clover to herself afterward. "neither of those boys quite liked our going on this expedition, i think,--though i'm sure i can't imagine why; but they behaved so differently. mr. templestowe thought of us and something which might give us pleasure; and clarence only thought about himself. poor clarence! he never had half a chance till he came here. it isn't all his fault." the party in the director's car proved a merry one. mrs. wade, a jolly, motherly woman, fond of the good things of life, and delighting in making people comfortable, had spared no pains of preparation. there were quantities of easy-chairs and fans and eau-de-cologne; the larder was stocked with all imaginable dainties,--iced tea, lemonade, and champagne cup flowed on the least provocation for all the hot moments, and each table was a bank of flowers. each lady had a superb bouquet; and on the second day a great tin box of freshly-cut roses met them at pueblo, so that they came back as gayly furnished forth as they went. having the privilege of the road, the car was attached or detached to suit their convenience, and this enabled them to command daylight for all the finest points of the excursion. first of these was the royal gorge, where the arkansas river pours through a magnificent canyon, between precipices so steep and with curves so sharp that only engineering genius of the most daring order could, it would seem, have devised a way through. then, after a pause at the pretty town of salida, with the magnificent range of the sangre de cristo mountains in full sight, they began to mount the pass over long loops of rail, which doubled and re-doubled on themselves again and again on their way to the summit. the train had been divided; and the first half with its two engines was seen at times puffing and snorting directly overhead of the second half on the lower curve. with each hundred feet of elevation, the view changed and widened. now it was of over-lapping hills set with little mésas, like folds of green velvet flung over the rocks; now of dim-seen valley depths with winding links of silver rivers; and again of countless mountain peaks sharp-cut against the sunset sky,--some rosy pink, some shining with snow. the flowers were a continual marvel. at the top of the pass, eleven thousand feet and more above the sea, their colors and their abundance were more profuse and splendid than on the lower levels. there were whole fields of pentstemons, pink, blue, royal purple, or the rare scarlet variety, like stems of asparagus strung with rubies. there were masses of gillias, and of wonderful coreopsis, enormous cream-colored stars with deep-orange centres, and deep yellow ones with scarlet centres; thickets of snowy-cupped mentzelia and of wild rose; while here and there a tall red lily burned like a little lonely flame in the green, or regiments of convolvuli waved their stately heads. from below came now and again the tinkle of distant cow-bells. these, and the plaintive coo of mourning-doves in the branches, and the rush of the wind, which was like cool flower-scented wine, was all that broke the stillness of the high places. "to think i'm so much nearer heaven than when i was a boy," misquoted clover, as she sat on the rear platform of the car, with poppy, and thurber wade. "are you sure your head doesn't ache? this elevation plays the mischief with some people. my mother has taken to her berth with ice on her temples." "headache! no, indeed. this air is too delicious. i feel as though i could dance all the way from here to the black canyon." "you don't look as if your head ached, or anything," said mr. wade, staring at clover admiringly. her cheeks were pink with excitement, her eyes full of light and exhilaration. "oh dear! we are beginning to go down," she cried, watching one of the beautiful peaks of the sangre de cristos as it dipped out of sight. "i think i could find it in my heart to cry, if it were not that to-morrow we are coming up again." so down, down, down they went. dusk slowly gathered about them; and the white-gloved butler set the little tables, and brought in broiled chicken and grilled salmon and salad and hot rolls and peaches, and they were all very hungry. and clover did not cry, but fell to work on her supper with an excellent appetite, quite unconscious that they were speeding through another wonderful gorge without seeing one of its beauties. then the car was detached from the train; and when she awoke next morning they were at the little station called cimmaro, at the head of the famous black canyon, with three hours to spare before the train from utah should arrive to take them back to st. helen's. early as it was, the small settlement was awake. lights glanced from the eating-house, where cooks were preparing breakfast for the "through" passengers, and smokes curled from the chimneys. close to the car was a large brick structure which seemed to be a sort of hotel for locomotives. a number of the enormous creatures had evidently passed the night there, and just waked up. clover now watched their antics with great amusement from her window as their engineers ran them in and out, rubbed them down like horses, and fed them with oil and coal, while they snorted and backed and sidled a good deal as real horses do. clover could not at all understand what all these manoeuvres were for,--they seemed only designed to show the paces of the iron steeds, and what they were good for. "miss clover," whispered a voice outside her curtains, "i've got hold of a hand-car and a couple of men; and don't you want to take a spin down the canyon and see the view with no smoke to spoil it? just you and me and miss chase. she says she'll go if you will. hurry, and don't make a noise. we won't wake the others." of course clover wanted to. she finished her dressing at top-speed, hurried on her hat and jacket, stole softly out to where the others awaited her, and in five minutes they were smoothly running down the gorge, over high trestle-work bridges and round sharp curves which made her draw her breath a little faster. there was no danger, the men who managed the hand-car assured them; it was a couple of hours yet before the next train came in; there was plenty of time to go three or four miles down and return. anything more delicious than the early morning air in the black canyon it would be difficult to imagine. cool, odorous with pines and with the breath of the mountains, it was like a zestful draught of iced summer. close beside the track ran a wondrous river which seemed made of melted jewels, so curiously brilliant were its waters and mixed of so many hues. its course among the rocks was a flash of foaming rapids, broken here and there by pools of exquisite blue-green, deepening into inky-violet under the shadow of the cliffs. and such cliffs!--one, two, three thousand feet high; not deep-colored like those about st. helen's, but of steadfast mountain hues and of magnificent forms,--buttresses and spires; crags whose bases were lost in untrodden forests; needle-sharp pinnacles like the swiss aiguilles. the morning was just making its way into the canyon; and the loftier tops flashed with yellow sun, while the rest were still in cold shadow. breakfast was just ready when the hand-car arrived again at the upper end of the gorge, and loud were the reproaches which met the happy three as they alighted from it. phil was particularly afflicted. "i call it mean not to wake a fellow," he said. "but a fellow was _so_ sound asleep," said clover, "i really hadn't the heart. i did peep in at your curtain, and if you had moved so much as a finger, _perhaps_ i should have called you; but you didn't." the return journey was equally fortunate, and the party reached st. helen's late in the evening of the second day, in what mr. wade called "excellent form." monday brought the young men from the ranch in again; and another fortnight passed happily, clover's three "leaves" being most faithfully attentive to their central point of attraction. "three is a good many," as marian chase had said, but all girls like to be liked, and clover did not find this, her first little experience of the kind, at all disagreeable. the excursion to the marshall pass, however, had an after effect which was not so pleasant. either the high elevation had disagreed with phil, or he had taken a little cold; at all events, he was distinctly less well. with the lowering of his physical forces came a corresponding depression of spirits. mrs. watson worried him, the sick people troubled him, the sound of coughing depressed him, his appetite nagged, and his sleep was broken. clover felt that he must have a change, and consulted dr. hope, who advised their going to the ute valley for a month. this involved giving up their rooms at mrs. marsh's, which was a pity, as it was by no means certain that they would be able to get them again later. clover regretted this; but fate, as fate often does, brought a compensation. mrs. watson had no mind whatever for the ute valley. "it's a dull place, they tell me, and there's nothing to do there but ride on horseback, and as i don't ride on horseback, i really don't see what use there would be in my going," she said to clover. "if i were young, and there were young men ready to ride with me all the time, it would be different; though ellen never did care to, except with henry of course, after they--and i really can't see that your brother's much different from what he was, though if dr. hope says so, naturally you--he's a queer kind of doctor, it seems to me, to send lung patients up higher than this,--which is high already, gracious knows. no; if you decide to go, i shall just move over to the shoshone for the rest of the time that i'm here. i'm sure that dr. carr couldn't expect me to stay on here alone, just for the chance that you may want to come back, when as like as not, mrs. marsh won't be able to take you again." "oh, no; i'm quite sure he wouldn't. only i thought," doubtfully, "that as you've always admired phil's room so much, you might like to secure it now that we have to go." "well, yes. if you were to be here, i might. if that man who's so sick had got better, or gone away, or something, i dare say i should have settled down in his room and been comfortable enough. but he seems just about as he was when we came, so there's no use waiting; and i'd rather go to the shoshone anyway. i always said it was a mistake that we didn't go there in the first place. it was dr. hope's doing, and i have not the least confidence in him. he hasn't osculated me once since i came." "hasn't he?" said clover, feeling her voice tremble, and perfectly aware of the shaking of phil's shoulders behind her. "no; and i don't call just putting his ear to my chest, listening. dr. bangs, at home, would be ashamed to come to the house without his stethoscope. i mean to move this afternoon. i've given mrs. marsh notice." so mrs. watson and her belongings went to the shoshone, and clover packed the trunks with a lighter heart for her departure. the last day of july found clover and phil settled in the ute park. it was a wild and beautiful valley, some hundreds of feet higher than st. helen's, and seemed the very home of peace. a sunday-like quiet pervaded the place, whose stillness was never broken except by bird-songs and the rustle of the pine branches. the sides of the valley near its opening were dotted here and there with huts and cabins belonging to parties who had fled from the heat of the plains for the summer. at the upper end stood the ranch house,--a large, rather rudely built structure,--and about it were a number of cabins and cottages, in which two, four, or six people could be accommodated. clover and phil were lodged in one of these. the tiny structure contained only a sitting and two sleeping rooms, and was very plain and bare. but there was a fireplace; wood was abundant, so that a cheerful blaze could be had for cool evenings; and the little piazza faced the south, and made a sheltered sitting place on windy days. one pleasant feature of the spot was its nearness to the high valley. clarence and geoff templestowe thought nothing of riding four miles; and scarcely a day passed when one or both did not come over. they brought wild-flowers, or cream, or freshly-churned butter, as offerings from the ranch; and, what clover valued as a greater kindness yet, they brought phil's beloved broncho, sorrel, and arranged with the owner of the ute ranch that it should remain as long as phil was there. this gave phil hours of delightful exercise every day; and though sometimes he set out early in the morning for the high valley, and stayed later in the afternoon than his sister thought prudent, she had not the heart to chide, so long as he was visibly getting better hour by hour. sundays the friends spent together, as a matter of course. geoff waited till his little home service for the ranchmen was over, and then would gallop across with clarence to pass the rest of the day. there was no lack of kind people at the main house and in the cottages to take an interest in the delicate boy and his sweet, motherly sister; so clover had an abundance of volunteer matrons, and plenty of pleasant ways in which to spend those occasional days on which the high valley attaches failed to appear. it was a simple, healthful life, the happiest on the whole which they had led since leaving home. once or twice mr. thurber wade made his appearance, gallantly mounted, and freighted with flowers and kind messages from his mother to miss carr; but clover was never sorry when he rode away again. somehow he did not seem to belong to the happy valley, as in her heart she denominated the place. there was a remarkable deal of full moon that month, as it seemed; at least, the fact served as an excuse for a good many late transits between the valley and the park. now and then either clarence or geoff would lead over a saddle-horse and give clover a good gallop up or down the valley, which she always enjoyed. the habit which she had extemporized for her visit to the high valley answered very well, and mrs. hope had lent her a hat. on one of these occasions she and clarence had ridden farther than usual, quite down to the end of the pass, where the road dipped, and descended to the little watering-place of canyon creek,--a swiss-like village of hotels and lodging-houses and shops for the sale of minerals and mineral waters, set along the steep sides of a narrow green valley. they were chatting gayly, and had just agreed that it was time to turn their horses' heads homeward, when a sudden darkening made them aware that one of the unexpected thunder-gusts peculiar to the region was upon them. they were still a mile above the village; but as no nearer place of shelter presented itself, they decided to proceed. but the storm moved more rapidly than they; and long before the first houses came in sight the heavy drops began to pelt down. a brown young fellow, lying flat on his back under a thick bush, with his horse standing over him, shouted to them to "try the cave," waving his hand in its direction; and hurrying on, they saw in another moment a shelving brow of rock in the cliff, under which was a deep recess. to this clarence directed the horses. he lifted clover down. she half sat, half leaned on the slope of the rock, well under cover, while he stretched himself at full length on a higher ledge, and held the bridles fast. the horses' heads and the saddles were fairly well protected, but the hindquarters of the animals were presently streaming with water. "this isn't half-bad, is it?" clarence said. his mouth was so close to clover's ear that she could catch his words in spite of the noisy thunder and the roar of the descending rain. "no; i call it fun." "you look awfully pretty, do you know?" was the next and very unexpected remark. "nonsense." "not nonsense at all." at that moment a carriage dashed rapidly by, the driver guiding the horses as well as he could between the points of an umbrella, which constantly menaced his eyes. other travellers in the pass had evidently been surprised by the storm besides themselves. the lady who held the umbrella looked out, and caught the picture of the group under the cliff. it was a suggestive one. clover's hat was a little pushed forward by the rock against which she leaned, which in its turn pushed forward the waving rings of hair which shaded her forehead, but did not hide her laughing eyes, or the dimples in her pink cheeks. the fair, slender girl, the dark, stalwart young fellow so close to her, the rain, the half-sheltered horses,--it was easy enough to construct a little romance. the lady evidently did so. it was what photographers call an "instantaneous effect," caught in three seconds, as the carriage whirled past; but in that fraction of a minute the lady had nodded and flashed a brilliant, sympathetic smile in their direction, and clover had nodded in return, and laughed back. "a good many people seem to have been caught as we have," she said, as another streaming vehicle dashed by. "i wish it would rain for a week," observed clarence. "my gracious, what a wish! what would become of us if it did?" "we should stay here just where we are, and i should have you all to myself for once, and nobody could come in to interfere with me." "thank you extremely! how hungry we should be! how can you be so absurd, clarence?" "i'm not absurd at all. i'm perfectly in earnest." "do you mean that you really want to stay a week under this rock with nothing to eat?" "well, no; not exactly that perhaps,--though if you could, i would. but i mean that i would like to get you for a whole solid week to myself. there is such a gang of people about always, and they all want you. clover," he went on, for, puzzled at his tone, she made no answer, "couldn't you like me a little?" "i like you a great deal. you come next to phil and dorry with me." "hang phil and dorry! who wants to come next to them? i want you to like me a great deal more than that. i want you to love me. couldn't you, clover?" "how strangely you talk! i do love you, of course. you're my cousin." "i don't care to be loved 'of course.' i want to be loved for myself. clover, you know what i mean; you must know. i can afford to marry now; won't you stay in colorado and be my wife?" "i don't think you know what you are saying, clarence. i'm older than you are. i thought you looked upon me as a sort of mother or older sister." "only fifteen months older," retorted clarence. "i never heard of any one's being a mother at that age. i'm a man now, i would have you remember, though i am a little younger than you, and know my own mind as well as if i were fifty. dear clovy," coaxingly, "couldn't you? you liked the high valley, didn't you? i'd do anything possible to make it nice and pleasant for you." "i do like the high valley very much," said clover, still with the feeling that clarence must be half in joke, or she half in dream. "but, my dear boy, it isn't my home. i couldn't leave papa and the children, and stay out here, even with you. it would seem so strange and far away." "you could if you cared for me," replied clarence, dejectedly; clover's kind, argumentative, elder-sisterly tone was precisely that which is most discouraging to a lover. "oh, dear," cried poor clover, not far from tears herself; "this is dreadful!" "what?" moodily. "having an offer? you must have had lots of them before now." "indeed i never did. people don't do such things in burnet. please don't say any more, clarence. i'm very fond of you, just as i am of the boys; but--" "but what? go on." "how can i?" clover was fairly crying. "you mean that you can't love me in the other way." "yes." the word came out half as a sob, but the sincerity of the accent was unmistakable. "well," said poor clarence, after a long bitter pause; "it isn't your fault, i suppose. i'm not good enough for you. still, i'd have done my best, if you would have taken me, clover." "i am sure you would," eagerly. "you've always been my favorite cousin, you know. people can't _make_ themselves care for each other; it has to come in spite of them or not at all,--at least, that is what the novels say. but you're not angry with me, are you, dear? we will be good friends always, sha'n't we?" persuasively. "i wonder if we can," said clarence, in a hopeless tone. "it doesn't seem likely; but i don't know any more about it than you do. it's my first offer as well as yours." then, after a silence and a struggle, he added in a more manful tone, "we'll try for it, at least. i can't afford to give you up. you're the sweetest girl in the world. i always said so, and i say so still. it will be hard at first, but perhaps it may grow easier with time." "oh, it will," cried clover, hopefully. "it's only because you're so lonely out here, and see so few people, that makes you suppose i am better than the rest. one of these days you'll find a girl who is a great deal nicer than i am, and then you'll be glad that i didn't say yes. there! the rain is just stopping." "it's easy enough to talk," remarked clarence, gloomily, as he gathered up the bridles of the horses; "but i shall do nothing of the kind. i declare i won't!" chapter x. no. piute street. clover did not see clarence again for several days after this conversation, the remembrance of which was uncomfortable to her. she feared he was feeling hurt or "huffy," and would show it in his manner; and she disliked very much the idea that phil might suspect the reason, or, worse still, mr. templestowe. but when he finally appeared he seemed much the same as usual. after all, she reflected, it has only been a boyish impulse; he has already got over it, or not meant all he said. in this she did clarence an injustice. he had been very much in earnest when he spoke; and it showed the good stuff which was in him and his real regard for clover that he should be making so manly a struggle with his disappointment and pain. his life had been a lonely one in colorado; he could not afford to quarrel with his favorite cousin, and with him, as with other lovers, there may have been, besides, some lurking hope that she might yet change her mind. but perhaps clover in a measure was right in her conviction that clarence was still too young and undeveloped to have things go very deep with him. he seemed to her in many ways as boyish and as undisciplined as phil. with early september the summering of the ute park came to a close. the cold begins early at that elevation, and light frosts and red leaves warned the dwellers in tents and cabins to flee. clover made her preparations for departure with real reluctance. she had grown very fond of the place; but phil was perfectly himself again, and there seemed no reason for their staying longer. so back to st. helen's they went and to mrs. marsh, who, in reply to clover's letter, had written that she must make room for them somehow, though for the life of her she couldn't say how. it proved to be in two small back rooms. an irruption of eastern invalids had filled the house to overflowing, and new faces met them at every turn. two or three of the last summer's inmates had died during their stay,--one of them the very sick man whose room mrs. watson had coveted. his death took place "as if on purpose," she told clover, the very week after her removal to the shoshone. mrs. watson herself was preparing for return to the east. "i've seen the west now," she said,--"all i want to see; and i'm quite ready to go back to my own part of the country. ellen writes that she thinks i'd better start for home so as to get settled before the cold--and it's so cold here that i can't realize that they're still in the middle of peaches at home. ellen always spices a great--they're better than preserves; and as for the canned ones, why, peaches and water is what i call them. well--my dear--" (distance lends enchantment, and clover had become "my dear" again.) "i'm glad i could come out and help you along; and now that you know so many people here, you won't need me so much as you did at first. i shall tell mrs. perkins to write to mrs. hall to tell your father how well your brother is looking, and i know he'll be--and here's a little handkerchief for a keepsake." it was a pretty handkerchief, of pale yellow silk with embroidered corners, and clover kissed the old lady as she thanked her, and they parted good friends. but their intercourse had led her to make certain firm resolutions. "i will try to keep my mind clear and my talk clear; to learn what i want and what i have a right to want and what i mean to say, so as not to puzzle and worry people when i grow old, by being vague and helpless and fussy," she reflected. "i suppose if i don't form the habit now, i sha'n't be able to then, and it would be dreadful to end by being like poor mrs. watson." altogether, mrs. marsh's house had lost its homelike character; and it was not strange that under the circumstances phil should flag a little. he was not ill, but he was out of sorts and dismal, and disposed to consider the presence of so many strangers as a personal wrong. clover felt that it was not a good atmosphere for him, and anxiously revolved in her mind what was best to do. the shoshone was much too expensive; good boarding-houses in st. helen's were few and far between, and all of them shared in a still greater degree the disadvantages which had made themselves felt at mrs. marsh's. the solution to her puzzle came--as solutions often do--unexpectedly. she was walking down piute street on her way to call on alice blanchard, when her attention was attracted to a small, shut-up house, on which was a sign: "no. . to let, furnished." the sign was not printed, but written on a half-sheet of foolscap, which was what led clover to notice it. she studied the house a while, then opened the gate, and went in. two or three steps led to a little piazza. she seated herself on the top step, and tried to peep in at the closed blinds of the nearest window. while she was doing so, a woman with a shawl over her head came hastily down a narrow side street or alley, and approached her. "oh, did you want the key?" she said. "the key?" replied clover, surprised; "of this house, do you mean?" "yes. mis starkey left it with me when she went away, because, she said, it was handy, and i could give it to anybody who wished to look at the place. you're the first that has come; so when i see you setting here, i just ran over. did mr. beloit send you?" "no; nobody sent me. is it mr. beloit who has the letting of the house?" "yes; but i can let folks in. i told mis starkey i'd air and dust a little now and then, if it wasn't took. poor soul! she was anxious enough about it; and it all had to be done on a sudden, and she in such a heap of trouble that she didn't know which way to turn. it was just lock-up and go!" "tell me about her," said clover, making room on the step for the woman to sit down. "well, she come out last year with her man, who had lung trouble, and he wasn't no better at first, and then he seemed to pick up for a while; and they took this house and fixed themselves to stay for a year, at least. they made it real nice, too, and slicked up considerable. mis starkey said, said she, 'i don't want to spend no more money on it than i can help, but mr. starkey must be made comfortable,' says she, them was her very words. he used to set out on this stoop all day long in the summer, and she alongside him, except when she had to be indoors doing the work. she didn't keep no regular help. i did the washing for her, and come in now and then for a day to clean; so she managed very well. "then,--wednesday before last, it was,--he had a bleeding, and sank away like all in a minute, and was gone before the doctor could be had. mis starkey was all stunned like with the shock of it; and before she had got her mind cleared up so's to order about anything, come a telegraph to say her son was down with diphtheria, and his wife with a young baby, and both was very low. and between one and the other she was pretty near out of her wits. we packed her up as quick as we could, and he was sent off by express; and she says to me, 'mis kenny, you see how 't is. i've got this house on my hands till may. there's no time to see to anything, and i've got no heart to care; but if any one'll take it for the winter, well and good; and i'll leave the sheets and table-cloths and everything in it, because it may make a difference, and i don't mind about them nohow. and if no one does take it, i'll just have to bear the loss,' says she. poor soul! she was in a world of trouble, surely." "do you know what rent she asks for the house?" said clover, in whose mind a vague plan was beginning to take shape. "twenty-five a month was what she paid; and she said she'd throw the furniture in for the rest of the time, just to get rid of the rent." clover reflected. twenty-five dollars a week was what they were paying at mrs. marsh's. could they take this house and live on the same sum, after deducting the rent, and perhaps get this good-natured-looking woman to come in for a certain number of hours and help do the work? she almost fancied that they could if they kept no regular servant. "i think i _would_ like to see the house," she said at last, after a silent calculation and a scrutinizing look at mrs. kenny, who was a faded, wiry, but withal kindly-looking person, shrewd and clean,--a north of ireland protestant, as she afterward told clover. in fact, her accent was rather scotch than irish. they went in. the front door opened into a minute hall, from which another door led into a back hall with a staircase. there was a tiny sitting-room, an equally tiny dining-room, a small kitchen, and above, two bedrooms and a sort of unplastered space, which would answer to put trunks in. that was all, save a little woodshed. everything was bare and scanty and rather particularly ugly. the sitting-room had a frightful paper of mingled mustard and molasses tint, and a matted floor; but there was a good-sized open fireplace for the burning of wood, in which two bricks did duty for andirons, three or four splint and cane bottomed chairs, a lounge, and a table, while the pipe of the large "morning-glory" stove in the dining-room expanded into a sort of drum in the chamber above. this secured a warm sleeping place for phil. clover began to think that they could make it do. mrs. kenny, who evidently considered the house as a wonder of luxury and convenience, opened various cupboards, and pointed admiringly to the glass and china, the kitchen tins and utensils, and the cotton sheets and pillow-cases which they respectively held. "there's water laid on," she said; "you don't have to pump any. here's the washtubs in the shed. that's a real nice tin boiler for the clothes,--i never see a nicer. mis starkey had that heater in the dining-room set the very week before she went away. 'winter's coming on,' she says, 'and i must see about keeping my husband warm;' never thinking, poor thing, how 't was to be." "does this chimney draw?" asked the practical clover; "and does the kitchen stove bake well?" "first-rate. i've seen mis starkey take her biscuits out many a time,--as nice a brown as ever you'd want; and the chimney don't smoke a mite. they kep' a wood fire here in may most all the time, so i know." clover thought the matter over for a day or two, consulted with dr. hope, and finally decided to try the experiment. no. was taken, and mrs. kenny engaged for two days' work each week, with such other occasional assistance as clover might require. she was a widow, it seemed, with one son, who, being employed on the railroad, only came home for the nights. she was glad of a regular engagement, and proved an excellent stand-by and a great help to clover, to whom she had taken a fancy from the start; and many were the good turns which she did for love rather than hire for "my little miss," as she called her. to phil the plan seemed altogether delightful. this was natural, as all the fun fell to his share and none of the trouble; a fact of which mrs. hope occasionally reminded him. clover persisted, however, that it was all fair, and that she got lots of fun out of it too, and didn't mind the trouble. the house was so absurdly small that it seemed to strike every one as a good joke; and clover's friends set themselves to help in the preparations, as if the establishment in piute street were a kind of baby-house about which they could amuse themselves at will. it is a temptation always to make a house pretty, but clover felt herself on honor to spend no more than was necessary. papa had trusted her, and she was resolved to justify his trust. so she bravely withstood her desire for several things which would have been great improvements so far as looks went, and confined her purchases to articles of clear necessity,--extra blankets, a bedside carpet for phil's room, and a chafing-dish over which she could prepare little impromptu dishes, and so save fuel and fatigue. she allowed herself some cheap madras curtains for the parlor, and a few yards of deep-red flannel to cover sundry shelves and corner brackets which geoffrey templestowe, who had a turn for carpentry, put up for her. various loans and gifts, too, appeared from friendly attics and store-rooms to help out. mrs. hope hunted up some old iron firedogs and a pair of bellows, poppy contributed a pair of brass-knobbed tongs, and mrs. marsh lent her a lamp. no. began to look attractive. they were nearly ready, but not yet moved in, when one day as clover stood in the queer little parlor, contemplating the effect of geoff's last effort,--an extra pine shelf above the narrow mantel-shelf,--a pair of arms stole round her waist, and a cheek which had a sweet familiarity about it was pressed against hers. she turned, and gave a great shriek of amazement and joy, for it was her sister katy's arms that held her. beyond, in the doorway, were mrs. ashe and amy, with phil between them. "is it you; is it really you?" cried clover, laughing and sobbing all at once in her happy excitement. "how did it happen? i never knew that you were coming." "neither did we; it all happened suddenly," explained katy. "the ship was ordered to new york on three days' notice, and as soon as ned sailed, polly and i made haste to follow. there would have been just time to get a letter here if we had written at once, but i had the fancy to give you a surprise." "oh, it is _such_ a nice surprise! but when did you come, and where are you?" "at the shoshone house,--at least our bags are there; but we only stayed a minute, we were in such a hurry to get to you. we went to mrs. marsh's and found phil, who brought us here. have you really taken this funny little house, as phil tells us?" "we really have. oh, what a comfort it will be to tell you all about it, and have you say if i have done right! dear, dear katy, i feel as if home had just arrived by train. and polly, too! you all look so well, and as if california had agreed with you. amy has grown so that i should scarcely have known her." four delightful days followed. katy flung herself into all clover's plans with the full warmth of sisterly interest; and though the hopes and other kind friends made many hospitable overtures, and would gladly have turned her short visit into a continuous _fête_, she persisted in keeping the main part of her time free. she must see a little of st. helen's, she declared, so as to be able to tell her father about it, and she must help clover to get to housekeeping,--these were the important things, and nothing else must interfere with them. most effectual assistance did she render in the way of unpacking and arranging. more than that, one day, when clover, rather to her own disgust, had been made to go with polly and amy to denver while katy stayed behind, lo! on her return, a transformation had taken place, and the ugly paper in the parlor of no. was found replaced with one of warm, sunny gold-brown. "oh, why did you?" cried clover. "it's only for a few months, and the other would have answered perfectly well. why did you, katy?" "i suppose it _was_ foolish," katy admitted; "but somehow i couldn't bear to have you sitting opposite that deplorable mustard-colored thing all winter long. and really and truly it hardly cost anything. it was a remnant reduced to ten cents a roll,--the whole thing was less than four dollars. you can call it your christmas present from me, if you like, and i shall 'play' besides that the other paper had arsenic in it; i'm sure it looked as if it had, and corrosive sublimate, too." clover laughed outright. it was so funny to hear katy's fertility of excuse. "you dear, ridiculous darling!" she said, giving her sister a good hug; "it was just like you, and though i scold i am perfectly delighted. i did hate that paper with all my heart, and this is lovely. it makes the room look like a different thing." other benefactions followed. polly, it appeared, had bought more indian curiosities in denver than she knew what to do with, and begged permission to leave a big bear-skin and two wolf-skins with clover for the winter, and a splendid striped navajo blanket as a portière to keep off draughts from the entry. katy had set herself up in california blankets while they were in san francisco, and she now insisted on leaving a pair behind, and loaning clover besides one of two beautiful japanese silk pictures which ned had given her, and which made a fine spot of color on the pretty new wall. there were presents in her trunks for all at home, and ned had sent clover a beautiful lacquered box. somehow clover seemed like a new and doubly-interesting clover to katy. she was struck by the self-reliance which had grown upon her, by her bright ways and the capacity and judgment which all her arrangements exhibited; and she listened with delight to mrs. hope's praises of her sister. "she really is a wonderful little creature; so wise and judgmatical, and yet so pretty and full of fun. people are quite cracked about her out here. i don't think you'll ever get her back at the east again, mrs. worthington. there seems a strong determination on the part of several persons to keep her here." "what do you mean?" but mrs. hope, who believed in the old proverb about not addling eggs by meddling with them prematurely, refused to say another word. clover, when questioned, "could not imagine what mrs. hope meant;" and katy had to go away with her curiosity unsatisfied. clarence came in once while she was there, but she did not see mr. templestowe. katy's last gift to clover was a pretty tea-pot of japanese ware. "i meant it for cecy," she explained. "but as you have none i'll give it to you instead, and take her the fan i meant for you. it seems more appropriate." phil and clover moved into no. the day before the eastern party left, so as to be able to celebrate the occasion by having them all to an impromptu house-warming. there was not much to eat, and things were still a little unsettled; but clover scrambled some eggs on her little blazer for them, the newly-lit fire burned cheerfully, and a good deal of quiet fun went on about it. amy was so charmed with the minute establishment that she declared she meant to have one exactly like it for mabel whenever she got married. "and a spirit-lamp, too, just like clover's, and a cunning, teeny-weeny kitchen and a stove to boil things on. mamma, when shall i be old enough to have a house all of my own?" "not till you are tired of playing with dolls, i am afraid." "well, that will be never. if i thought i ever could be tired of mabel, i should be so ashamed of myself that i should not know what to do. you oughtn't to say such things, mamma; she might hear you, too, and have her feelings hurt. and please don't call her _that_," said amy, who had as strong an objection to the word "doll" as mice are said to have to the word "cat." next morning the dear home people proceeded on their way, and clover fell to work resolutely on her housekeeping, glad to keep busy, for she had a little fear of being homesick for katy. every small odd and end that she had brought with her from burnet came into play now. the photographs were pinned on the wall, the few books and ornaments took their places on the extemporized shelves and on the table, which, thanks to mrs. hope, was no longer bare, but hidden by a big square of red canton flannel. there was almost always a little bunch of flowers from the wade greenhouses, which were supposed to come from mrs. wade; and altogether the effect was cosey, and the little interior looked absolutely pretty, though the result was attained by such very simple means. phil thought it heavenly to be by themselves and out of the reach of strangers. everything tasted delicious; all the arrangements pleased him; never was boy so easily suited as he for those first few weeks at no. . "you're awfully good to me, clover," he said one night rather suddenly, from the depths of his rocking-chair. the remark was so little in phil's line that it quite made her jump. "why, phil, what made you say that?" she asked. "oh, i don't know. i was thinking about it. we used to call katy the nicest, but you're just as good as she is. [this clover justly considered a tremendous compliment.] you always make a fellow feel like home, as geoff templestowe says." "did geoff say that?" with a warm sense of gladness at her heart. "how nice of him! what made him say it?" "oh, i don't know; it was up in the canyon one day when we got to talking," replied phil. "there are no flies on you, he considers. i asked him once if he didn't think miss chase pretty, and he said not half so pretty as you were." "really! you seem to have been very confidential. and what is that about flies? phil, phil, you really mustn't use such slang." "i suppose it is slang; but it's an awfully nice expression anyway." "but what _does_ it mean?" "oh, you must see just by the sound of it what it means,--that there's no nonsense sticking out all over you like some of the girls. it's a great compliment!" "is it? well, i'm glad to know. but mr. templestowe never used such a phrase, i'm sure." "no, he didn't," admitted phil; "but that's what he meant." so the winter drew on,--the strange, beautiful colorado winter,--with weeks of golden sunshine broken by occasional storms of wind and sand, or by skurries of snow which made the plains white for a few hours and then vanished, leaving them dry and firm as before. the nights were often cold,--so cold that comfortables and blankets seemed all too few, and clover roused with a shiver to think that presently it would be her duty to get up and start the fires so that phil might find a warm house when he came downstairs. then, before she knew it, fires would seem oppressive; first one window and then another would be thrown up, and phil would be sitting on the piazza in the balmy sunshine as comfortable as on a june morning at home. it was a wonderful climate; and as clover wrote her father, the winter was better even than the summer, and was certainly doing phil more good. he was able to spend hours every day in the open air, walking, or riding dr. hope's horse, and improved steadily. clover felt very happy about him. this early rising and fire-making were the hardest things she had to encounter, though all the housekeeping proved more onerous than, in her inexperience, she had expected it to be. after the first week or two, however, she managed very well, and gradually learned the little labor-saving ways which can only be learned by actual experiment. getting breakfast and tea she enjoyed, for they could be chiefly managed by the use of the chafing-dish. dinners were more difficult, till she hit on the happy idea of having mrs. kenny roast a big piece of beef or mutton, or a pair of fowls every monday. these _pièces de résistance_ in their different stages of hot, cold, and warmed over, carried them well along through the week, and, supplemented with an occasional chop or steak, served very well. fairly good soups could be bought in tins, which needed only to be seasoned and heated for use on table. oysters were easily procurable there, as everywhere in the west; good brown-bread and rolls came from the bakery; and clover developed a hitherto dormant talent for cookery and the making of graham gems, corn-dodgers, hoe-cakes baked on a barrel head before the parlor fire, and wonderful little flaky biscuits raised all in a minute with royal baking powder. she also became expert in that other fine art of condensing work, and making it move in easy grooves. her tea things she washed with her breakfast things, just setting the cups and plates in the sink for the night, pouring a dipper full of boiling water over them. there was no silver to care for, no delicate glass or valuable china; the very simplicity of apparatus made the house an easy one to keep. clover was kept busy, for simplify as you will, providing for the daily needs of two persons does take time; but she liked her cares and rarely felt tired. the elastic and vigorous air seemed to build up her forces from moment to moment, and each day's fatigues were more than repaired by each night's rest, which is the balance of true health in living. little pleasures came from time to time. christmas day they spent with the hopes, who from first to last proved the kindest and most helpful of friends to them. the young men from the high valley were there also, and the day was brightly kept,--from the home letters by the early mail to the grand merry-making and dance with which it wound up. everybody had some little present for everybody else. mrs. wade sent clover a tall india-rubber plant in a china pot, which made a spire of green in the south window for the rest of the winter; and clover had spent many odd moments and stitches in the fabrication of a gorgeous mexican-worked sideboard cloth for the hopes. but of all clover's offerings the one which pleased her most, as showing a close observation of her needs, came from geoff templestowe. it was a prosaic gift, being a wagon-load of piñon wood for the fire; but the gnarled, oddly twisted sticks were heaped high with pine boughs and long trails of red-fruited kinnikinnick to serve as a christmas dressing, and somehow the gift gave clover a peculiar pleasure. "how dear of him!" she thought, lifting one of the big piñon logs with a gentle touch; "and how like him to think of it! i wonder what makes him so different from other people. he never says fine flourishing things like thurber wade, or abrupt, rather rude things like clarence, or inconsiderate things like phil, or satirical, funny things like the doctor; but he's always doing something kind. he's a little bit like papa, i think; and yet i don't know. i wish katy could have seen him." life at st. helen's in the winter season is never dull; but the gayest fortnight of all was when, late in january, the high valley partners deserted their duties and came in for a visit to the hopes. all sorts of small festivities had been saved for this special fortnight, and among the rest, clover and phil gave a party. "if you can squeeze into the dining-room, and if you can do with just cream-toast for tea," she explained, "it would be such fun to have you come. i can't give you anything to eat to speak of, because i haven't any cook, you know; but you can all eat a great deal of dinner, and then you won't starve." thurber wade, the hopes, clarence, geoff, marian, and alice made a party of nine, and it was hard work indeed to squeeze so many into the tiny dining-room of no. . the very difficulties, however, made it all the jollier. clover's cream-toast,--which she prepared before their eyes on the blazer,--her little tarts made of crackers split, buttered, and toasted brown with a spoonful of raspberry jam in each, and the big loaf of hot ginger-bread to be eaten with thick cream from the high valley, were pronounced each in its way to be absolute perfection. clarence and phil kindly volunteered to "shunt the dishes" into the kitchen after the repast was concluded; and they gathered round the fire to play "twenty questions" and "stage-coach," and all manner of what clover called "lead-pencil games,"--"crambo" and "criticism" and "anagrams" and "consequences." there was immense laughter over some of these, as, for instance, when dr. hope was reported as having met mrs. watson in the north cheyenne canyon, and he said that knowledge is power; and she, that when larks flew round ready roasted poor folks could stick a fork in; and the consequence was that they eloped together to a cannibal island where each suffered a process of disillusionation, and the world said it was the natural result of osculation. this last sentence was phil's, and i fear he had peeped a little, or his context would not have been so apropos; but altogether the "cream-toast swarry," as he called it, was a pronounced success. it was not long after this that a mysterious little cloud of difference seemed to fall on thurber wade. he ceased to call at no. , or to bring flowers from his mother; and by-and-by it was learned that he had started for a visit to the east. no one knew what had caused these phenomena, though some people may have suspected. later it was announced that he was in chicago and very attentive to a pretty miss somebody whose father had made a great deal of money in standard oil. poppy arched her brows and made great amused eyes at clover, trying to entangle her into admissions as to this or that, and clarence experimented in the same direction; but clover was innocently impervious to these efforts, and no one ever knew what had happened between her and thurber,--if, indeed, anything had happened. so may came to st. helen's in due course, of time. the sand-storms and the snow-storms were things of the past, the tawny yellow of the plains began to flush with green, and every day the sun grew more warm and beautiful. phil seemed perfectly well and sound now; their occupancy of no. was drawing to a close; and clover, as she reflected that colorado would soon be a thing of the past, and must be left behind, was sensible of a little sinking of the heart even though she and phil were going home. chapter xi. the last of the clover-leaves. last days are very apt to be hard days. as the time drew near for quitting no. , clover was conscious of a growing reluctance. "i wonder why it is that i mind it so much?" she asked herself. "phil has got well here, to be sure; that would be enough of itself to make me fond of the place, and we have had a happy winter in this little house. but still, papa, elsie, john,--it seems very queer that i am not gladder to go back to them. i can't account for it. it isn't natural, and it seems wrong in me." it was a rainy afternoon in which clover made these reflections. phil, weary of being shut indoors, had donned ulster and overshoes, and gone up to make a call on mrs. hope. clover was quite alone in the house, as she sat with her mending-basket beside the fireplace, in which was burning the last but three of the piñon logs,--geoff templestowe's christmas present. "they will just last us out," reflected clover; "what a comfort they have been! i would like to carry the very last of them home with me, and keep it to look at; but i suppose it would be silly." she looked about the little room. nothing as yet had been moved or disturbed, though the next week would bring their term of occupancy to a close. "this is a good evening to begin to take things down and pack them," she thought. "no one is likely to come in, and phil is away." she rose from her chair, moved restlessly to and fro, and at last leaned forward and unpinned a corner of one of the photographs on the wall. she stood for a moment irresolutely with the pin in her fingers, then she jammed it determinedly back into the photograph again, and returned to her sewing. i almost think there were tears in her eyes. "no," she said half aloud, "i won't spoil it yet. we'll have one more pleasant night with everything just as it is, and then i'll go to work and pull all to pieces at once. it's the easiest way." just then a foot sounded on the steps, and a knock was heard. clover opened the door, and gave an exclamation of pleasure. it was geoffrey templestowe, splashed and wet from a muddy ride down the pass, but wearing a very bright face. "how nice and unexpected this is!" was clover's greeting. "it is such a bad day that i didn't suppose you or clarence could possibly get in. come to the fire and warm yourself. is he here too?" "no; he is out at the ranch. i came in to meet a man on business; but it seems there's a wash-out somewhere between here and santa fé, and my man telegraphs that he can't get through till to-morrow noon." "so you will spend the night in town." "yes. i took marigold to the stable, and spoke to mrs. marsh about a room, and then i walked up to see you and phil. how is he, by the way?" "quite well. i never saw him so strong or so jolly. papa will hardly believe his eyes when we get back. he has gone up to the hopes, but will be in presently. you'll stay and take tea with us, of course." "thanks, if you will have me; i was hoping to be asked." "oh, we're only too glad to have you. our time here is getting so short that we want to make the very most of all our friends; and by good luck there is a can of oysters in the house, so i can give you something hot." "do you really go so soon?" "our lease is out next week, you know." "really; so soon as that?" "it isn't soon. we have lived here nearly eight months." "what a good time we have all had in this little house!" cried geoff, regretfully. "it has been a sort of warm little centre to us homeless people all winter." "you don't count yourself among the homeless ones, i hope, with such a pleasant place as the high valley to live in." "oh, the hut is all very well in its way, of course; but i don't look at it as a home exactly. it answers to eat and sleep in, and for a shelter when it rains; but you can't make much more of it than that. the only time it ever seemed home-like in the least was when you and mrs. hope were there. that week spoiled it for me for all time." "that's a pity, if it's true, but i hope it isn't. it was a delightful week, though; and i think you do the valley an injustice. it's a beautiful place. now, if you will excuse me, i am going to get supper." "let me help you." "oh, there is almost nothing to do. i'd much rather you would sit still and rest. you are tired from your ride, i'm sure; and if you don't mind, i'll bring my blazer and cook the oysters here by the fire. i always did like to 'kitch in the dining-room,' as mrs. whitney calls it." clover had set the tea-table before she sat down to sew, so there really was almost nothing to do. geoff lay back in his chair and looked on with a sort of dreamy pleasure as she went lightly to and fro, making her arrangements, which, simple as they were, had a certain dainty quality about them which seemed peculiar to all that clover did,--twisted a trail of kinnikinnick about the butter-plate, laid a garnish of fresh parsley on the slices of cold beef, and set a glass full of wild crocuses in the middle of the table. then she returned to the parlor, put the kettle, which had already begun to sing, on the fire, and began to stir and season her oysters, which presently sent out a savory smell. "i have learned six ways of cooking oysters this winter," she announced gleefully. "this is a dry-pan-roast. i wonder if you'll approve of it. and i wonder why phil doesn't come. i wish he would make haste, for these are nearly done." "there he is now," remarked geoff. but instead it was dr. hope's office-boy with a note. dear c.,--mrs. hope wants me for a fourth hand at whist, so i'm staying, if you don't mind. she says if it didn't pour so she'd ask you to come too. p. "well, i'm glad," said clover. "it's been a dull day for him, and now he'll have a pleasant evening, only he'll miss you." "i call it very inconsiderate of the little scamp," observed geoff. "he doesn't know but that he's leaving you to spend the evening quite alone." "oh, boys don't think of things like that." "boys ought to, then. however, i can stand his absence, if you can!" it was a very merry little meal to which they presently sat down, full of the charm which the unexpected brings with it. clover had grown to regard geoff as one of her very best friends, and was perfectly at her ease with him, while to him, poor lonely fellow, such a glimpse of cosey home-life was like a peep at paradise. he prolonged the pleasure as much as possible, ate each oyster slowly, descanting on its flavor, and drank more cups of tea than were at all good for him, for the pleasure of having clover pour them out. he made no further offers of help when supper was ended, but looked on with fascinated eyes as she cleared away and made things tidy. at last she finished and came back to the fire. there was a silence. geoff was first to break it. "it would seem like a prison to you, i am afraid," he said abruptly. "what would?" "i was thinking of what you said about the high valley." "oh!" "you've only seen it in summer, you know. it's quite a different place in the winter. i don't believe a--person--could live on the year round and be contented." "it would depend upon the person, of course." "if it were a lady,--yourself, for instance,--could it be made anyway tolerable, do you think? of course, one might get away now and then--" "i don't know. it's not easy to tell beforehand how people are going to feel; but i can't imagine the high valley ever seeming like a prison," replied clover, vexed to find herself blushing, and yet unable to help it, geoff's manner had such an odd intensity in it. "if i were sure that you could realize what it would be--" he began impetuously; then quieting himself, "but you don't. how could you? ranch life is well enough in summer for a short time by way of a frolic; but in winter and spring with the upper canyon full of snow, and the road down muddy and slippery, and the storms and short days, and the sense of being shut in and lonely, it would be a dismal place for a lady. nobody has a right to expect a woman to undergo such a life." clover absorbed herself in her sewing, she did not speak; but still that deep uncomfortable blush burned on her cheeks. "what do you think?" persisted geoff. "wouldn't it be inexcusable selfishness in a man to ask such a thing?" "i think;" said clover, shyly and softly, "that a man has a right to ask for whatever he wants, and--" she paused. "and--what?" urged geoff, bending forward. "well, a woman has always the right to say no, if she doesn't want to say yes." "you tempt me awfully," cried geoff, starting up. "when i think what this place is going to seem like after you've gone, and what the ranch will be with all the heart taken from it, and the loneliness made twice as lonely by comparison, i grow desperate, and feel as if i could not let you go without at least risking the question. but clover,--let me call you so this once,--no woman could consent to such a life unless she cared very much for a man. could you ever love me well enough for that, do you think?" "it seems to me a very unfair sort of question to put," said clover, with a mischievous glint in her usually soft eyes. "suppose i said i could, and then you turned round and remarked that you were ever so sorry that you couldn't reciprocate my feelings--" "clover," catching her hand, "how can you torment me so? is it necessary that i should tell you that i love you with every bit of heart that is in me, and need you and want you and long for you, but have never dared to hope that you could want me? loveliest, sweetest, i do, and i always shall, whether it is yes or no." "then, geoff--if you feel like that--if you're quite sure you feel like that, i think--" "what do you think, dearest?" "i think--that i could be very happy even in winter--in the high valley." and papa and the children, and the lonely and far-away feelings? there was never a mention of them in this frank acceptance. oh, clover, clover, circumstances _do_ alter cases! mrs. hope's rubber of whist seemed a long one, for phil did not get home till a quarter before eleven, by which time the two by the fire had settled the whole progress of their future lives, while the last logs of the piñon wood crackled, smouldered, and at length broke apart into flaming brands. in imagination the little ranch house had thrown out as many wings and as easily as a newly-hatched dragon-fly, had been beautified and made convenient in all sorts of ways,--a flower-garden had sprouted round its base, plenty of room had been made for papa and the children and katy and ned, who were to come out continually for visits in the long lovely summers; they themselves also were to go to and fro,--to burnet, and still farther afield, over seas to the old devonshire grange which geoff remembered so fondly. "how my mother and isabel will delight in you," he said; "and the squire! you are precisely the girl to take his fancy. we'll go over and see them as soon as we can, won't we, clover?" clover listened delightedly to all these schemes, but through them all, like that young irish lady who went over the marriage service with her lover adding at the end of every clause, "provided my father gives his consent," she interposed a little running thread of protest,--"if papa is willing. you know, geoff, i can't really promise anything till i've talked with papa." it was settled that until dr. carr had been consulted, the affair was not to be called an engagement, or spoken of to any one; only clover asked geoff to tell clarence all about it at once. the thought of clarence was, in truth, the one cloud in her happiness just then. it was impossible to calculate how he would take the news. if it made him angry or very unhappy, if it broke up his friendship with geoff, and perhaps interfered with their partnership so that one or other of them must leave the high valley, clover felt that it would grievously mar her contentment. there was no use in planning anything till they knew how he would feel and act. in any case, she realized that they were bound to consider him before themselves, and make it as easy and as little painful as possible. if he were vexatious, they must be patient; if sulky, they must be forbearing. phil opened his eyes very wide at the pair sitting so coseyly over the fire when at last he came in. "i say, have _you_ been here all the evening?" he cried. "well, that's a sell! i wouldn't have gone out if i'd known." "we've missed you very much," quoth geoff; and then he laughed as at some extremely good joke, and clover laughed too. "you seem to have kept up your spirits pretty well, considering," remarked phil, dryly. boys of eighteen are not apt to enjoy jokes which do not originate with themselves; they are suspicious of them. "i suppose i must go now," said geoff, looking at his watch; "but i shall see you again before i leave. i'll come in to-morrow after i've met my man." "all right," said phil; "i won't go out till you come." "oh, pray don't feel obliged to stay in. i can't at all tell when i shall be able to get through with the fellow." "come to dinner if you can," suggested clover. "phil is sure to be at home then." lovers are like ostriches. geoff went away just shaking hands casually, and was very particular to say "miss carr;" and he and clover felt that they had managed so skilfully and concealed their secret so well; yet the first remark made by phil as the door shut was, "geoff seems queer to-night, somehow, and so do you. what have you been talking about all the evening?" an observant younger brother is a difficult factor in a love affair. two days passed. clover looked in vain for a note from the high valley to say how clarence had borne the revelation; and she grew more nervous with every hour. it was absolutely necessary now to dismantle the house, and she found a certain relief in keeping exceedingly busy. somehow the break-up had lost its inexplicable pain, and a glad little voice sang all the time at her heart, "i shall come back; i shall certainly come back. papa will let me, i am sure, when he knows geoff, and how nice he is." she was at the dining-table wrapping a row of books in paper ready for packing, when a step sounded, and glancing round she saw clarence himself standing in the doorway. he did not look angry, as she had feared he might, or moody; and though he avoided her eye at first, his face was resolute and kind. "geoff has told me," were his first words. "i know from what he said that you, and he too, are afraid that i shall make myself disagreeable; so i've come in to say that i shall do nothing of the kind." "dear clarence, that wasn't what geoff meant, or i either," said clover, with a rush of relief, and holding out both her hands to him; "what we were afraid of was that you might be unhappy." "well," in a husky tone, and holding the little hands very tight, "it isn't easy, of course, to give up a hope. i've held on to mine all this time, though i've told myself a hundred times that i was a fool for doing so, and though i knew in my heart it was no use. now i've had two days to think it over and get past the first shock, and, clover, i've decided. you and geoff are the best friends i've got in the world. i never seemed to make friends, somehow. till you came to hillsover that time nobody liked me much; i don't know why. i can't get along without you two; so i give you up without any hard feeling, and i mean to be as jolly as i can about it. after all, to have you at the high valley will be a sort of happiness, even if you don't come for my sake exactly," with an attempt at a laugh. "clarence, you really are a dear boy! i can't tell you how i thank you, and how i admire you for being so nice about this." "then that's worth something, too. i'd do a good deal to win your approval, clover. so it's all settled. don't worry about me, or be afraid that i shall spoil your comfort with sour looks. if i find i can't stand it, i'll go away for a while; but i don't think it'll come to that. you'll make a real home out of the ranch house, and you'll let me have my share of your life, and be a brother to you and geoff; and i'll try to be a good one." clover was touched to the heart by these manful words so gently spoken. "you shall be our dear special brother always," she said. "only this was needed to make me quite happy. i am so glad you don't want to go away and leave us, or to have us leave you. we'll make the ranch over into the dearest little home in the world, and be so cosey there all together, and papa and the others shall come out for visits; and you'll like them so much, i know, elsie especially." "does she look like you?" "not a bit; she's ever so much prettier." "i don't believe a word of that" clover's heart being thus lightened of its only burden by this treaty of mutual amity, she proceeded joyously with her packing. mrs. hope said she was not half sorry enough to go away, and poppy upbraided her as a gay deceiver without any conscience or affections. she laughed and protested and denied, but looked so radiantly satisfied the while as to give a fair color for her friends' accusations, especially as she could not explain the reasons of her contentment or hint at her hopes of return. mrs. hope probably had her suspicions, for she was rather urgent with clover to leave this thing and that for safe keeping "in case you ever come back;" but clover declined these offers, and resolutely packed up everything with a foolish little superstition that it was "better luck" to do so, and that papa would like it better. quite a little group of friends assembled at the railway station to see her and phil set off. they were laden with flowers and fruit and "natural soda-water" with which to beguile the long journey, and with many good wishes and affectionate hopes that they might return some day. "something tells me that you will," mrs. hope declared. "i feel it in my bones, and they hardly ever deceive me. my mother had the same kind; it's in the family." "something tells me that you must," cried poppy, embracing clover; "but i'm afraid it isn't bones or anything prophetic, but only the fact that i want you to so very much." from the midst of these farewells clover's eyes crossed the valley and sought out mount cheyenne. "how differently i should be feeling," she thought, "if this were going away with no real hope of coming back! i could hardly have borne to look at you had that been the case, you dear beautiful thing; but i _am_ coming back to live close beside you always, and oh, how glad i am!" "is that good-by to cheyenne?" asked marian, catching the little wave of a hand. "yes, it _is_ good-by; but i have promised him that it shall soon be how-do-you-do again. mount cheyenne and i understand each other." "i know; you have always had a sentimental attachment to that mountain. now pike's peak is _my_ affinity. we get on beautifully together." "pike's peak indeed! i am ashamed of you." then the train moved away amid a flutter of handkerchiefs, but still clover and phil were not left to themselves; for dr. hope, who had a consultation in denver, was to see them safely off in the night express, and geoff had some real or invented business which made it necessary for him to go also. clover carried with her through all the three days' ride the lingering pressure of geoff's hand, and his whispered promise to "come on soon." it made the long way seem short. but when they arrived, amid all the kisses and rejoicings, the exclamations over phil's look of health and vigor, the girls' intense interest in all that she had seen and done, papa's warm approval of her management, her secret began to burn guiltily within her. what _would_ they all say when they knew? and what did they say? i think few of you will be at a loss to guess. life--real life as well as life in story-books--is full of such shocks and surprises. they are half happy, half unhappy; but they have to be borne. younger sisters, till their own turns come, are apt to take a severe view of marriage plans, and to feel that they cruelly interrupt a past order of things which, so far as they are concerned, need no improvement. and parents, who say less and understand better, suffer, perhaps, more. "to bear, to rear, to lose," is the order of family history, generally unexpected, always recurring. but true love is not selfish. in time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object. dr. carr did confide to katy in a moment of private explosion that he wished the great west had never been invented, and that such a prohibitory tax could be laid upon young englishmen as to make it impossible that another one should ever be landed on our shores; but he had never in his life refused clover anything upon which she had set her heart, and he saw in her eyes that her heart was very much set on this. john and elsie scolded and cried, and then in time began to talk of their future visits to high valley till they grew to anticipate them, and be rather in a hurry for them to begin. geoff's arrival completed their conversion. "nicer than ned," johnnie pronounced him; and even dr. carr was forced to confess that the sons-in-law with which fate had provided him were of a superior sort; only he wished that they didn't want to marry _his_ girls! phil, from first to last, was in favor of the plan, and a firm ally to the lovers. he had grown extremely western in his ideas, and was persuaded in his mind that "this old east," as he termed it, with its puny possibilities, did not amount to much, and that as soon as he was old enough to shape his own destinies, he should return to the only section of the country worthy the attention of a young man of parts. meanwhile, he was perfectly well again, and willing to comply with his father's desire that before he made any positive arrangements for his future, he should get a sound and thorough education. "so you are actually going out to the wild and barbarous west, to live on a ranch, milk cows, chase the wild buffalo to its lair, and hold the tiger-cat by its favorite forelock," wrote rose red. "what was that you were saying only the other day about nice convenient husbands, who cruise off for 'good long times,' and leave their wives comfortably at home with their own families? and here you are planning to marry a man who, whenever he isn't galloping after cattle, will be in your pocket at home! oh, clover, clover, how inconsistent a thing is woman,--not to say girl,--and what havoc that queer deity named cupid does make with preconceived opinions! i did think i could rely on you; but you are just as bad as the rest of us, and when a lad whistles, go off after him wherever he happens to lead, and think it the best thing possible to do so. it's a mad world, my masters; and i'm thankful that roslein is only four and a half years old." and clover's answer was one line on a postal card,-- "guilty, but recommended to mercy!" [transcriber's note: extensive research found no evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [illustration: cover art] [frontispiece: "and win he did." _boy ranchers on roaring river._] the boy ranchers on roaring river or _diamond x and the chinese smugglers_ by willard f. baker author of "the boy ranchers," "the boy ranchers in camp," "the boy ranchers at spur creek," "the boy ranchers in the desert," etc. _illustrated_ new york cupples & leon company the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker mo. cloth. frontispiece the boy ranchers or solving the mystery at diamond x the boy ranchers in camp or the water fight at diamond x the boy ranchers on the trail or diamond x after cattle rustlers the boy ranchers among the indians or diamond x trailing the yaquis the boy ranchers at spur creek or diamond x fighting the sheep herders the boy ranchers in the desert or diamond x and the lost mine the boy ranchers on roaring river or diamond x and the chinese smugglers cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by cupples & leon company the boy ranchers on roaring river printed in u. s. a. contents chapter i a dangerous mission ii a strange disappearance iii a suspicious visitor iv the hidden gunman v arrival at the ranch vi the threat vii a sheepless sheep ranch viii cyclone ix delton returns x bud finds a note xi joe hawkins's visit xii the story of smuggling xiii trapped xiv to-morrow night xv billee dobb's story xvi bud's escape xvii a night of waiting xviii smuggling operations xix the chase xx down and out xxi closing in xxii flying bullets xxiii a ring of fire xxiv the rattling buckboard xxv yellin' kid finds his bronc the boy ranchers on roaring river chapter i a dangerous mission "hold up there, you pint o' peanuts! hold up, i say! well, for the love of spread eagle! i suppose you boys are lookin' for a job; eh?" the speaker, a typical, raw-boned cowboy, looked down from his pony at three boys seated on a bench at the side of the cook-house. "whether we are or not, we've got it, kid," answered one of the seated trio, a well set-up youth with light hair. "and the funny part of it is, we don't know what the job is." "huh! got a job and you don't know what it is? well, nort, guess i'll have to look into this," and the cowboy whom nort addressed as "kid"--or, to give him his full nick-name, "yellin' kid"--swung lightly from his saddle. "hold up there, you pony, you!" this as the kid's mount started to prance about wildly. "just got this here dust-raiser, and she ain't used to my ways yet," he chuckled. "hy' ya', dick, and bud! how's the boy, nort? by golly, ranchin' is sure doin' you fellers good! you-all got some powerful grip!" the three boys, nort and dick shannon, and their cousin bud merkel, grinned widely. they were all of the same mold--clean-cut, straight-shooting lads, their faces bronzed from the prairie sun, and their eyes as clear as the blue sky above them. "yes, kid, ranching has done us good--in more ways than one. in fact it's done us up brown." and bud laughed a little ruefully. "what's the matter? rustlers, or disease?" the kid's face expressed instant concern as he mentioned these two nightmares of the rancher's life. "no, not either--but something almost as bad. you tell him, nort," suggested bud. "you started it--you might as well finish out, bud. you know as much about it as i do." "aw, get dick to. he hasn't said a word yet." "well, for pete's sake, _somebody_ tell me before i drop dead from excitement!" burst out yellin' kid. "all right--i'll tell you, kid," dick started. "last week we were to deliver a herd of longhorns to j. k. jackson, over to double-o ranch. sold 'em at a good fat price, too, that would have put us on our feet for the rest of the year. well, we sent four of our men to ride 'em in. i went along with 'em. we started about sun-up, calculatin' to reach the double-o before night, and everything was lovely. 'long about noon we reached the gorge near galgo. i suggested we ride the cattle as far from the gorge as we could get, 'cause i know how easy a herd of long-horns are started. but no, nothin' would do sam holiday but going as near to the big cut as possible, to save time. sam's our new foreman, you know, and i didn't want to assert myself over him. so we drove 'em close to the edge. i told sam once or twice to keep away--but oh, no! everything would be all right, and we'd have the cattle in by five o'clock. well, we had 'em in by five o'clock all right. but not at the double-o! "just as we were passing the deepest part of the cut we heard a most awful bang! and i knew in a minute what it was. stump-blasting. yes, i knew what it was--but the cattle didn't. and nobody had time to tell them, either. the steers on the extreme right made a sudden lunge--and in three minutes it was all over. nothin' left but an old cow who broke her leg in the first rush. and the rest--every blessed one of 'em--two hundred feet down, lyin' dead or dyin' in the bottom of the gorge!" the kid was the first to break in on the morose stillness dick's speech had invoked. "well now, say, boys, that's right sorrowful--yes, sir, that's what i call right sorrowful! i sure am sorry for you-all! a whole herd of cattle gone to the dogs! well, well--that's sad. say, is there anything i can do to--you know, sort of help out--like, well, maybe----" "no thanks, kid," spoke up dick quickly. his glance told the kid that he realized what the half-spoken offer meant. in the west one man understands his friend more by feeling than by words. "real good of you to offer, though. no, i guess we'll make out all right. can't have easy riding all the time. i imagine mr. merkel has something for us to do. he sent for us to come over to his ranch. so here we are. that was the job i told you about." "a blind job, hey? well, i guess it's o. k. or the boss wouldn't be mixed up in it. anyway, here's your chance to find out. here comes mr. merkel now." a tall, pleasant-faced man, hair slightly grayed at the temples, strode out of the ranchhouse toward the four waiting cowboys. his resemblance to bud--especially around the eyes--was easily noticeable. "hello, nort and dick! how are you, son? say, boy, you're getting hard as a rock! what have you men been feeding bud--leather? he sure looks, as though it was coming through!" the kindly eyes of the older man lighted with pride as he grasped the hand of his son. "no, dad--i guess hard luck toughened me up," said bud, but his smile belied the meaning of his words. "yes, i heard about your accident, boys--and that's partly why i sent for you. i thought you might have time to do a little business for me." "well, i guess i'll step along, mr. merkel," the kid said, as he realized he might be intruding on a private conversation. "i got that fence fixed up all right." "did you? good! no, kid, you stay right here. you're in on this too. where's billee dobb? i want him to hear what i have to say." "he's 'round back, boss. i'll get him." "bring him in the house, kid. my room. come on, boys--we'll get settled inside and wait for the kid and billee." as the boys followed mr. merkel each one wondered what it was all about. dick voiced the thought of all as he whispered: "say, what's up? you know, bud?" "nope! i'm as much in the dark as you are. dad never said anything to me. we'll soon know, though." by this time they had reached the ranchhouse. as soon as the kid arrived with old billee dobb--a grizzled product of ranching who had been with the diamond x from its start--mr. merkel motioned them to be seated and began: "i reckon the first thing you men want to know is the reason for this gathering. well, it's nothing very mysterious. i bought a sheep ranch out near roaring river, and i want you five to take hold of it for me. now--just a minute. i know what you're going to say, kid--that sheep nursing is no job for a cowman. but you haven't heard the rest of it. there's been some very funny things happening out near that ranch. i've had a letter from the government official over at candelaria asking whether i intend to manage those sheep, myself, and if i do would i let him know before i take charge. now, i'm not going to say just what is the trouble, as i'm not actually sure myself. but i have a hunch. and that's the reason i want you five--men i can trust--to take charge there. will you?" his listeners looked at each other. in the eyes of each--with the possible exception of old billee dobb--the light of adventure was shining. whatever scruples the kid had about "sheep nursing" had vanished with the word "trouble." and he was the first to speak: "sure we will! what do you say, boys? do we go out? how about it, dick and nort? what do you say, bud? billee here is just achin' for the experience!" and the kid laughed, for billee dobb's tendency to pretend displeasure at every change of conditions was well known. "yes i am--not! like as not we'll all get shot full of holes. but if you fellers want to go--guess i'll have to trail along to take care of you-all!" "listen to him--just try to hold him back if there's any shootin' goin' on!" "then i take it you'll go?" mr. merkel asked. "yes, dad--i'm sure we'll all be glad to take charge out there for you," answered bud. "i don't suppose you could tell us any more about this government business now?" "i'm afraid not, son--i want to be sure of my ground before i make any statements. well, i guess that's settled. you'll leave to-morrow." since this was the last night the kid and old billee were to spend on the diamond x, it seemed fitting to the rest of the boys that there should be some sort of an entertainment. an entertainment to a cowboy means principally music--so after supper the boys gathered around a roaring log fire and sang themselves hoarse. after slim degnan, the foreman, and fat milton, his chubby assistant, had rendered their duet, and snake purdee had given his famous imitation of a prima donna singing "bury me not," bud, with nort and dick, decided to take a stroll about the place to see if anything had changed. their own particular ranch was several miles removed from diamond x, owned by mr. merkel. "see your dad got a new building up," observed dick, as they came to a newly-painted shack, clearly visible in the bright moonlight. "so he has. looks like a new bunk house. perhaps he----" "listen! there's somebody inside! no one is supposed to be in there at night. it isn't open yet." this from nort, in a low tone. "let's find out who it is," bud whispered. silently three boys crept toward the door. two voices could be plainly heard, and as they came closer they could distinguish words. one voice was that of a foreigner--evidently a mexican. the other spoke with a typical cowboy accent. "you have got the money ready--yes?" the boys heard the mexican say. "sure--as soon as you deliver the chinks you get the money. but no double-crossin'--remember that!" and the speaker emphasized his statement by clicking his revolver ominously. "don' you worry--you get the chinks all right. shuss--there's someone outside!" the boys knew they had been discovered, and made a sudden rush for the door of the shack, to see the two men who were inside. but the mexican and his companion were too quick for them. they ran through a back door, and all the three boys could see of them was two dark forms disappearing in the bushes. "they beat us to it," dick said in a disappointed voice. "but if ever i hear that mexican accent again i'll sure remember it!" "me too!" asserted bud, positively, if not grammatically. "no use hanging around here any longer. we've got to get started early in the morning, and it might be a good idea to get in a little bunk-fatigue. let's hit the hay, boys!" and wondering and speculating on the meaning of what they had seen and heard, the three went to bed. the next day dawned clear and cool, and the boys arose with the sun. on their way down to breakfast they met the yellin' kid. he was evidently the bearer of startling tidings, as his face was more flushed than usual, and his eyes were shining with excitement. "heard the news?" he burst out. then, without waiting for an answer, he went on: "the marshal at roaring river has been shot by a gang of chink smugglers! they captured one, but the rest got away with an auto load of chinks! roaring river, boys--that's where we're going!" chink smugglers! that conversation in the new bunk house last night--in a flash it all came back to the boys. "say, dick, i'll bet that's what we heard the mex talking about!" cried bud. chapter ii a strange disappearance yellin' kid looked at bud in surprise. "you heard someone talkin' about this here shootin', bud?" he asked. "not exactly about the shooting of the marshal, but last night nort and dick and myself were wandering down by the new shack that dad put up, and inside two men were talking--one of them was a mexican. we heard this mex say something about getting some money for the delivery of chinks. that sure means smuggling, doesn't it?" "that's what it means all right. couldn't you see who the two men were?" the kid wanted to know. "we tried to, but they got away," said dick. "we went in the front door and they ran out the back." "aw say, do you know what i think, fellows? i'll bet what we heard was just some rancher asking a friend to send him a chinese cook," suggested nort, with a faint grin. "cook, hey? why did they sneak in a deserted bunk house to talk about a cook? and how about that remark of 'double crossin'?' and what did they run for? why?" demanded dick. "oh, all right--all right!" cried nort, who was now grinning widely. "have it your own way, dick. it was probably a great mexican plot to send a million chinese to this country and form an army to capture texas. and after they captured texas they'd set up a kingdom and the king would have snake purdee sing 'bury me not' for him every morning before breakfast." "you can jolly all you like, nort--just the same, i'm willing to lay odds that we see some excitement when we reach roaring river. let's go, boys--that bacon will be frozen by the time we get to breakfast." and dick led the way toward the dining room. although they were cautioned several times by "ma" merkel to eat more slowly, the boys hurried through the meal. each of them was "rarin' to go," as kid expressed it, and lingering over the ordinary occupation of eating seemed a waste of time. within an hour the five--bud merkel, nort and dick shannon, yellin' kid and old billee dobb--were standing by their ponies, ready to spring to the saddles and be off. there was a sudden cloud of dust as the five urged their mounts into a gallop. with one last yell to those watching, they streaked across the ground in a typical "cowboy start." within two minutes they were lost to view behind a ridge. now for a moment let us leave them while we learn something of their earlier adventures. the three boys, bud merkel, and his eastern cousins nort and dick shannon, were introduced to you in the first book of this series, called "the boy ranchers; or solving the mystery at diamond x." in that book was related how nort and dick shannon went on their vacations to the diamond x ranch, owned by mr. merkel, bud's father. while there they were confronted with a strange situation, regarding the searchings of a college scientist, dr. hendryx wright, who was discovered digging near the diamond x holdings. at first it was thought that he was looking for a lost gold mine, but later developments brought to light the fact that his purpose was to unearth the bones of a prehistoric monster for his college museum. the adventures of the boys while on the ranch were also concerned with del pinzo, a villainous half-breed, who nearly succeeded in bringing the career of all to a sudden close. after successfully overcoming all their difficulties, nort and dick decided to form a partnership with their cousin bud, and they located on a ranch in "happy valley" which bud's father bought for them. in the several volumes following was related how the boy ranchers went to camp, and how they took the trail, and the exciting times they had in rounding up a band of yaqui indians who had escaped from their reservation and were raising havoc with the neighboring territory. following this the boys went to spur creek, where they had many startling adventures among the sheep herders. the book immediately preceding this present one is called "the boy ranchers in the desert," and tells of the difficulties they had in their search for some lost gold. after the first wild dash, the five travelers pulled their ponies into that long loping stride which carries the cowboy for days and days over many miles. bud and dick were in the lead, with nort and kid and old billee dobb following close behind. "say, kid," bud called back, after a while, "what would you do if you saw a smuggler come along now with a herd of chinks with him?" "tell you what i'd do, bud," yellin' kid replied, "i'd stop the chinks and find out what happened to a shirt i sent out to be washed the last time i was in dallas!" "you mean that shirt with the yellow dots on, kid?" dick asked with a grin. "if that's the one, i can tell you what became of it. they thought it was an oil painting that got in the wash by mistake, and they had it framed and hung up in the picture gallery!" "never you mind about the color of that shirt, dick--it was a shrinking violet compared with the vest you bought over to alamito. purple and green--wow! first time i saw it it was three o'clock in the afternoon, and i had to look at a watch to make sure it wasn't morning. thought the sun was comin' up." "got you that time, dick!" nort laughed. "that's one you owe him. say, is that a new pony you're ridin', kid?" "yep! what do you think of her?" "looks good. how far can she go on a gallon?" "twice as far as yours can--and twice as fast!" "think so? try it--see that bush up ahead? race you to there!" "right! let's go!" "hey, hey! wait a minute, you fellows! we're not goin' on a picnic, you know. we've got a good long ride before us. take it easy." this from billee. "what's the matter, billee? gettin' old?" asked bud mischievously. "old? who, me? say, young feller, i can give you a head start half way to that bush and still beat you there!" "how about me? if there's a race, i'm in it too!" cried dick. "all right. tell you what--we'll start from here, and the last man there has to kiss a sheep!" "right! all set? ready--go!" "ye-e-e-ow!" "yip-yip-yip-yipee-ee!" "ride 'em cowboy!" "leggo that leather!" "gangway--gangway!" the five riders flashed over the ground almost on a line. kid's mount was running easily, head well up. dick pulled a little ahead. nort just touched his pony with the spurs, and in a moment he was even with dick. there was a sudden rush behind them--and old billee dobb, hat fanning his pony's withers, hair streaming in the wind, streaked to the front! "look at the old boy go!" "stay at it, billee--stay at it!" "two bits he wins!" and win he did. he reached the bush a full length ahead of the others, who were laughing so hard they could hardly stay on their horses. the spectacle of the gaunt, elderly man sitting straight up in the saddle, teeth clenched and bowed legs wrapped around his pony, was too much for them. they leaned on their pommels weakly and roared with laughter. "attaboy, billee!" "golly--did you see the old boy streak it out!" "oh, cracky! hold me up, somebody, or i'll fall off!" "now--who's gettin'--old!" panted billee. "beat me, hey? not in--a million years!" "what do you say, boys--we give billee a salute!" four guns flashed out of the holsters and were raised aloft. "bang!" they roared as one. "sure sounds like a celebration," chuckled nort as he blew the few remaining grains of burnt powder from his smoking barrel, and replaced the gun. "billee, accept my congratulations!" "granted, youngster--if that's what i'm supposed to say," billee retorted, his eyes twinkling. "and just remember--a man's not old out here until he can't ride no more." "you look as though you might be good for several hundred years yet, if that's the case," laughed dick. "anyway, you sure showed me a few things. say, that race made me pretty thirsty. is there a water hole near here, kid, or shall i use my canteen?" "save it--i think i can find water for you. guess the ponies could use a little too. let's see now--'pears to me there should be a water hole right over here to the left. you boys stay here while i go look. be back in a jiffy." leaving the four on the trail, yellin' kid rode swiftly away to the left. water holes are few and far between in that section, and a cowboy who rides a country a great deal knows the location of every single one. often that knowledge means the saving of a human life. the kid had been gone ten minutes when bud said: "thought yellin' kid said he'd be right back? i guess he's all right though. he knows the country about here pretty well, doesn't he, billee?" "like the palm of his hand, bud--like the palm of his hand! but maybe his pony broke his leg in a prairie dog hole--seein' as how it's a new pony, he might do that. tell you--i'll just have a look. you fellows wait here for me." the three boys watched billee ride off in the direction the kid had taken. it was a deserted, lonesome place. fifteen minutes later billee rode back--alone. "the kid show up yet?" he asked as he pulled up. "no--couldn't you find him?" dick asked, a look of anxiety on his face. "nope! neither hide nor hair! something sure must have happened. the kid isn't one to go wanderin' off and get lost. i'm afraid he's in trouble, boys!" chapter iii a suspicious visitor the three looked at each other in alarm. "golly, i never thought anything could happen to the kid," bud said slowly. "he was brought up in this country, and always said he could find his way about blindfolded." "perhaps the water hole was farther away than he thought," suggested nort hopefully. "it's easy for any man to go astray on a matter of distance, you know." "well, maybe--but i doubt it. what i think happened is that his pony stumbled into a hole and lamed hisself. well--we'll have to go looking for him, that's all. nort, you and dick branch out here to the right. bud, you take the left trail. i'll try straight ahead. now remember your trails, boys--we don't want no more accidents to happen. we'll all meet here in one hour. if anything happens, fire three shots. git along there!" and billee dobb, together with the rest set out to find yellin' kid who was so mysteriously and unaccountably lost. nort, who was riding with dick, was the first to pick up a possible clew. "looks as though someone passed here in a hurry," he said as he pointed to a newly beaten path through some heavy brush. "now if i was just going along easy like i'd have ridden 'round that bush. the pony that went through there got a few scratches." "wonder if it could have been the kid?" nort mused. "though why he should be in such an all-fired hurry i can't understand. unless he was chasing someone." "or being chased," dick added. "perhaps he met a smuggler, dick." "smuggler--'way up here? not a chance! say, nort, you've got smugglers on the brain. you seem to think they ride around with big signs pinned on them--'i am a smuggler--shoot me.' suppose the kid did meet a smuggler--how'd he know him from any other man?" "that's right--guess he wouldn't," admitted nort, a trifle shamefacedly. "but you know what he told us about that marshal being shot." "oh, yes, but marshals get shot nearly every day, somewhere--and maybe it wasn't a chink smuggler that shot him after all--maybe it was just an ordinary gang of rustlers." "well, you can say what you like, dick, but i'll lay odds we see some excitement when we reach roaring river." "we'll see some excitement sooner than that, if we don't find the kid. see here--if he made this trail, he was going fast--and in this direction. let's get on our way." "better go back, do you think?" nort asked as he looked up toward the sun. "we've been gone at least an hour, and billee said to return within that time." "yes," dick responded, a little sadly, for he and yellin' kid were close friends. "i sure hope the kid's all right. perhaps some of the others picked him up." "perhaps. let's hope so. at any rate, we haven't had much success--and i doubt even that the torn brush we saw was done by the kid." "can't tell, he may have ridden through there and then taken a sudden turn to the right or left. or back again, for that matter. well, let's get started." as the two arrived at the agreed meeting place there was no need to ask the others if they had had any luck. the kid was nowhere in sight. "we saw a trail through some bushes that might have been made by the kid, billee," said nort to the old rancher. "yes, and it might have been made by any number of other things, too," billee declared, in a despondent tone. "not that i am sure it _wasn't_ the kid's trail. it _might_ have been--but that doesn't help us much. no, i guess the only thing for us to do is to go right on lookin'--and hopin' he's o.k." it was almost dusk when the four gathered together again. the kid was still missing, and anxiety was written on the faces of all as they prepared to camp for the night. each man carried a blanket with him, and also a small snack of food and a canteen of water. as darkness settled down a fire was started, and huddled in their blankets the boy ranchers prepared to make the best of it. the silence of the night hung close over the four blanketed figures. the firelight threw weird shadows about them, but above the stars shone calmly on, quietly reassuring. a light breeze rustled softly through the mesquite bushes. now and then a coyote yowled in the distance. suddenly bud jerked upright. he nudged dick, who was lying beside him. "dick!" he whispered, so as not to disturb the others, "do you hear anything?" "eh? what? what's that? you speak to me?" dick muttered sleepily. "listen! can't you hear a noise like a horse walking?" dick sat up, now wide awake. "say, i believe i do! wait a minute--" and he tossed some wood on the fire--"let's have a look!" "kid?" bud called hopefully. the approaching pony gave a sudden leap forward. "yea boy!" yelled its rider. "home again!" "it is the kid!" dick cried exultingly. "nort! billee! the kid's back!" in a moment yellin' kid was surrounded by the four who shot questions at him as fast as they could talk. "where in the name of the spread eagle have you been?" "what happened?" "did you get lost?" "are you all right?" "hey, hey! not so fast! gimme time! wait 'til i get down off this here pony. oh, baby--that feels good." and the kid stretched long and high. "what a ride! say--got anything to eat?" "sure! sink your teeth in this," billee said, handing him a cold beef sandwich from his kit. "and here's some water. are you all right, kid?" "me? sure! except tired and hungry. been ridin' most of the day an' night. s'pose you-all would like to know what it's all about, hey?" "well, if you haven't anything to do at present, you might let us in on the secret. we looked all over texas for you," dick said, grinning, happy now, that their lost comrade had returned. "just a second while i put this little paint pony of mine over with the others. old boy--you sure had some journey to-day!" and the kid rubbed the horse's nose. "stood up well, too. to-morrow i'll give you a big feed--what you need now is rest--like me. well, boys, guess i'll turn in." "you'll what?" "you will not--not until we hear what happened!" "he'll turn in--well for the love of pete!" "all right boys--all right!" the kid laughed. "seems you want to hear something about my trip, hey? well, to start from the beginning, the day dawned clear an' bright. the wind was ticklin' my ears as i rode----" "cut it out!" "let's have the story, you locoed dust-raiser!" "all right, we'll cut the kiddin'. tell you what really happened. i found the water hole where i thought it would be, and i found something else, too. there was a horse standin' near it, and by the side of the horse was a chink--on his hands an' knees, crawlin' around on the ground. thinks i, here's a crazy man. so i rides up slow, and when i got up close i asks he chink what he's lookin' for. he don't pay no attention to me whatever. i gets off my horse and says it again. then the crazy chink looks up at me and says "chock gee." that's all. just "chock gee." me, not knowin' chinese, i can't tell what he's after. but i see it won't do no good to insist on knowin' so i starts to help him up, thinking maybe he's hurt. soon as i touched him, what does the crazy chink do but jump like a cat for his saddle, give my paint a terrible crack with his quirt, and set off like a scared rabbit, my pony after him, leavin' me stranded, high an' dry!" the kid looked at his eager listeners and grinned. "that new pony of mine--she's sure got some speed. she was out of sight in two seconds. an' then, boys--i had to depend on the ole legs! so i went huntin' for her. caught her about four miles from where her an' me parted company. then i went huntin' for you-all, but you was nowheres to be found. and from then 'til now, i was ridin' around, lookin' for you." "and the chink--what happened to him?" "blessed if i know! but if i ever see him again i'll give him something to remember me by." "so that's where you were all that time! we thought you'd been blown to dallas on a cyclone. anyway, we're glad you're back. reckon you could stand a little sleep, eh?" bud said. "you bet. i'll sling my blanket down by you, dick, and we'll get started for roarin' river as early as possible. it's still a good ways ahead. good night, boys!" "hey, you men!" from the darkness came a sudden voice. all five turned swiftly, five hands reaching for revolvers together. into the firelight rode a tall horseman. "hey, boys!" he called again. "any of you see a chink wanderin' around here?" chapter iv the hidden gunman "who wants to know?" the kid asked, staring hard at the mounted visitor, his hand firm on the butt of his gun. "now, boys, take it easy--take it easy! i've got good reason's for wantin' to know, which same i'll explain if you give me a chance. if you don't mind i think i'll park here for the time bein'." and he dismounted and came closer. by the light of the fire the ranchers saw a tall, rangy cowboy of about forty. two deep-set eyes above a hooked nose gave him a hardened, desert look which his manner emphasized. he was, evidently, one to whom life had proved anything but a pink tea party. yet, withal, he had something about him which seemed to inspire trust. "well, stranger, you're welcome, but we haven't much to offer," bud said. "we weren't expecting to camp to-night, and we're somewhat shy on provisions. but i guess we can rustle up something for you." "no need of that--no need of that at all," the stranger heartily assured them. "all i want is a little information. guess i'd better introduce myself first. i'm joe hawkins, special deputy over at roaring river." the others exchanged glances in the dim light of the fire as the visitor continued: "here's my badge. don't know whether you heard about the trouble we had, but if you didn't, i'll tell you. roaring river is right on the mexican border, you know, and there's been a lot of chink smugglin' goin' on, with roaring river as the key to the whole smugglin' situation, so to speak. we don't know who's the boss of these smugglers, but we'd give a lot to find out. two thousand dollars, to be exact. "well, anyway, two days ago we had a tip that a car-load of chinese was about to be rushed over the border just outside of town limits. so we got all set. sheriff townley and me and three other deputies hid in the bushes where we thought the car was goin' to pass. but we lost out. "the car came by all right--and we hopped into the roadway to stop them. they never stopped a-tall. goin' like a crazy steer they flew by on two wheels, lettin' ride with every gun they had. got poor townley good. we buried him yesterday. so--now you know what it's all about." "and the car--did you see it again?" dick; asked excitedly. "no--but last night a chink came to town and got oiled-up on pulque, and said a few things more than he meant to. when i jumped him he lit out for the open spaces. this morning i thought i'd take a look around, and see if i could spot him. sure enough i did, but the old yellow-skin got away before i could reach him. i don't suppose you boys saw anything of him?" "well now, that's mighty strange," drawled the kid. "it so happens that i _did_ see your man--at least i'll take odds that he was the one you're after. this afternoon i was trapin' around for that water hole over yonder about three miles--you know the one," and the kid told of his adventure with the "crazy chink." "that's him, for all the money in the world!" the deputy exclaimed. "lookin' for a 'chock gee' was he? i'll chock gee him if i catch him." "say, what's all this about a 'chock gee'?" nort wanted to know. "well, it's a government immigration office paper every chink in this country is supposed to have, showin' they're here legitimately. those that haven't got 'em try to get one from another chink, and there's unlawful trading goin' on all the time." "like a passport, eh?" billee dobb suggested. "something like that. where you men bound for--if you don't mind me askin'?" "to a ranch just outside of roaring river," spoke up bud. "my father, over at diamond x, bought it, and we're going to take charge." "your father mr. merkel?" joe hawkins asked suddenly, with new interest. "yes--do you know him?" "not exactly. but i know of him. when i heard that the shootin' star was changin' hands i wrote to mack caffery, the boy on the job over at candelaria, askin' him to get in touch with the new owner. that's how i got the name merkel. did your dad hear from him, do you know?" "yes, he did. so that's what dad meant when he said there might be trouble, eh? well--we're ready for whatever comes. what do you say, boys?" "right!" the others chorused. "say, mister, what was that there you said about two thousand dollars?" billee dobb broke in. "there's two thousand dollars' reward, offered by the government, for the capture, dead or alive, of the head of the chink smugglers," the deputy said impressively. "two thousand bucks! say, boys, with that you could buy yourself a new herd of cattle, to make up somewhat for the bunch you lost!" cried yellin' kid. "we sure could--and then some," bud agreed. "but i guess there's not much chance of us collecting the reward. we'll be busy enough at the ranch without trying to round up any smugglers. say, mr.--what did you say your name was?" "hawkins--joe hawkins." "well, how about bunking with us to-night? we can all start out in the morning together, and perhaps we'll come across your chinese friend. it's pretty late now, and you can't make roaring river 'til long after daylight." "well, now, men, that's right kind of you to suggest that--but i don't want to butt in. i can just----" "you're not butting in at all!" insisted bud. "we'll be glad to have you. got a blanket?" "oh, i got a blanket, thanks. thought i might need it on this chink hunt of mine. well, since you boys don't mind, i'll put up my pony and flop down here by the fire. feels good at a time like this. good-night, all!" the remainder of the night was uneventful. the six slept soundly, tired out as they were, and with the morning they all awoke refreshed and eager to be on the way. after a meager breakfast they set out for the water hole the kid knew of, as they wanted to let their steeds drink before starting for the shooting star, which was the name of their new ranch. joe hawkins went with them. "what time do you calculate we'll hit the ranch, kid?" bud asked. "be there in about three hours, bud. it isn't so far from the water hole. why? you anxious to begin sheep herdin'?" "not exactly," bud laughed. "but i do want to see what the place looks like. hope we don't have to do much repairing." "no, the shooting star is in pretty fair shape," joe hawkins said. "your father got a good buy--if you can get hold of it all right." "what do you mean, get hold of it all right?" asked bud curiously. "well, the feller that's got it now isn't exactly a pleasant customer. there's something queer about him--we've been watchin' the shooting star for over a month now. i couldn't say for sure that there's anything wrong--but it looks suspicious. that's the reason i wanted to have the government official find out who the new owner was going to be. i'm right glad i met up with you boys. you may be able to help me out some time." "and collect that reward," billee dobb put in. his mind seemed set on the two thousand dollars the deputy had spoken of. "you might," admitted hawkins. "it's waiting for the person who brings in the head of the smuggling system." "well, we'll do our best," the kid said, with a side glance at bud. "say, kid, we're not down here to capture smugglers!" cried bud. "we've got to take charge of the shooting star. of course, if we _do_ happen to run across----" "i knew that would get a rise out of you!" laughed the kid. "catch bud duckin' any excitement! why, even billee here wants to trail the smugglers--don't you, billee?" "never you mind!" came back the old rancher. "want another race?" "'at-ta-boy, billee!" nort yelled. "guess that'll hold him! you didn't know billee dobb was a champion racer, did you?" nort said to hawkins. "i didn't, no," responded the deputy with a smile. "but i believe it. takes old birds like us to show these youngsters up, eh, billee?" "sure does!" "well, here we are," declared the kid, as they came in sight of the water hole. "right down there is where i saw the chink on his hands and knees. hey, take it easy there!" this to his pony, who strained toward the water. "i know you're thirsty, but so are the others. easy--easy!" the kid dismounted and led the panting horse toward the water. leaning over he filled his hat, and held it to the mouth of his pony. "start in on that. slow! or you don't get any. 'at-ta-boy. here's another hatful for you. feel as though you can control yourself now? all right--go to it!" by this time the intelligent animal got the idea, and drank in small mouthfuls. the other ponies, restrained by their masters from drinking too fast, did the same. "so it was here that you saw the chink, eh!" asked joe hawkins. "yep--right in this spot. he was leanin' over here by this little bush, lookin' for--" the kid stopped suddenly and picked up something from the ground. it was a folded paper. the kid looked it over swiftly. "lookin' for--_this_!" he exclaimed, holding it out. "what is it?" "let's have a look!" the deputy walked over to the kid. "mind if i see it?" he said quietly. without a word the kid handed it over. he recognized the fact that it was the deputy's right to demand it. "that's what the chink was looking for," hawkins declared after a moment. "see here! this paper----" "bang! bang!" "duck!" cried the kid. his hand reached for his gun as he hit the ground. "bang!" billee's hat went sailing from his head. "he means business!" dick yelled. "down, everybody!" chapter v arrival at the ranch another report rang out, and a bullet went singing overhead. by this time guns were out ready for action. from behind a small knoll, about one hundred and fifty yards away, hazy smoke could be seen arising. "dick, you stay here and keep me covered," said the kid in a low voice. the boys were all hugging the ground in the shelter of the brush. "i'm goin' to sneak around an' see if i can't connect with the onery skunk that's doin' the shootin'." "take it easy, kid," dick cautioned. "you can't tell how many men there are over there." "right! now you pass the word to the others to keep that hill peppered with lead. as soon as you see a sign of life, let ride. if you can keep whoever's doin' all this out of sight, i'll have a chance. so long!" yellin' kid had started. with a simple "so long" he was off on a mission which might--and very likely would--end in his death. men who spend their lives on the prairies have no time for heroics. they do their job--and say nothing. slowly the kid crept forward. the hidden gunman seemed to be withholding his fire. in the brush by the water hole lay the five watching men--billee dobb and joe hawkins with long-barreled colts ready for action, dick, nort and bud squinting along the barrels of their shorter guns. closer, closer, the kid crawled. seventy-five yards! seventy! now, kid--now---- "well, by the ghost of my aunt lizzie's cat!" the kid was standing upright, his mouth open, his gun hanging loosely by his side. not a soul was in sight! a quick look about verified this. the country beyond the knoll was perfectly flat, and for over five hundred yards was bare of even the smallest bush. whoever the mysterious shooter was, he had, apparently, vanished into thin air. "hey, you guys, come over here!" yelled the kid. "we been blazed at by a ghost!" one by one the men by the water hole got to their feet. dick was the first to reach the kid's side. "he's right, boys!" called back dick, as he saw the empty space behind the little hill. "nobody here. but let's have a look at the ground. we can tell if it's been disturbed, anyway." a careful search revealed not only the traces of someone having lain down on the loose earth, but also two empty shells. "that makes me feel a little better!" cried the kid as he saw this. "i don't hanker to be shot at by someone i can't see. now the thing to do is to find out what happened to our late playmate." "he's gone, ain't he?" asked billee dobb incredulously, as he came shuffling along. off his horse billee was a bit awkward. "you don't say! well, now, i never noticed that! say, billee, you a de-tect-a-tive by any chance?" "go on, laugh, kid! you spent enough time sneakin' up on a whole lot of nothin', didn't ye?" "what do you think about this, mr. hawkins?" bud asked of the deputy, who was looking around quietly. "not much, youngster, not much! seems mighty funny to me. doesn't hardly appear likely that a man could get away in this flat country without us seeing him. but that's what happened all right. never knew a cowpuncher to have that much sneakin' ability in him." "maybe it wasn't a cowboy," nort suggested. "maybe it was a--chink." "never knew a chink to use a forty-four in my life," the kid declared. "these here shells come from a gun big enough to knock a chinee clean off his slippers. nope, this here job was done by a puncher--or--" and he stopped a moment--"or a greaser." "a mexican!" cried bud. "say, dick, remember the conversation we heard in dad's new bunk house? maybe it was the same mex that did the shooting!" "what's this all about, boys?" asked joe hawkins. "anything i ought to know?" "it might help you," offered dick. "it was two nights ago." and he told of hearing the voices in the shack. "well, i don't know. i don't mind telling you that the crowd we're after for the smugglin' is mexican--at least we're pretty sure they are. think you'd recognize the voices if you heard them again?" "certain sure i could tell that greaser's tones in a million," dick declared. "i'll never forget him." after another survey of the terrain, it was decided to start for the shooting star ranch. joe hawkins said he would ride to roaring river with them and make his report, and see if anything had developed in town. so, filling their canteens, the six set off. on the way the kid offered a tale of a tarantula fight. these bouts were carefully arranged by the cowboys, the scene being set in a deep washbowl. two females were the combatants, and the one who first amputated all the legs of the other was declared the winner. occasionally a particularly vicious spider would forsake his natural enemy and leap high at one of the spectators, inflicting a painful, though not necessarily dangerous, bite. hence these contests were not without excitement. "i used to have a pet tarantula i called jenny," told yellin' kid. "she was absolutely the meanest critter i ever see! she could just about straddle a saucer, that's how big she was. had a coat of hair like a grizzly. she won five fights for me, and i was all set to match her against a spider some puncher brought all the way from oklahoma, when she took a sudden likin' to jeff peters, and her ca-reer was brought to a sudden close. i cried fer near a week--but jeff, he was more sore than what i was. she got him good before he killed her!" and the kid chuckled rememberingly. by this time the riders had come in sight of roaring river. they had all been through the town, if it might be so dignified by a name, and of course joe hawkins lived there, so it was no new sight to them. but it was a change from the surroundings the boy ranchers had been used to, and when they remembered that it was here all the smuggling was going on, all were conscious of a feeling of excitement. they decided to feed-up in town before going to the ranch, which lay about three miles out. they headed for "herb's eating place," the one and only restaurant with tables. the meals they ordered would have done justice to a hungry bear. "we have arrived!" cried bud, when he swallowed sufficiently to allow himself to talk. "after a long and hazardous journey through the bad-lands of texas, we finally came to this little gem, nestling among the hills, resplendent in----" "roas' biff, roas' pork, and lem'," nort finished. "how do you get that way? food always do that to you? look at the kid here. not saying a word." "good reason for that," laughed bud. "he couldn't talk if he wanted to. hey, kid, they serve supper here, you know." "yea? but i'm takin' no chances! this place may not be here to-night. wow! what a meal! help me up, boys! help me up!" and the kid struggled slowly to his feet. "guess that'll hold me for a while," he sighed. "how about some more pie, kid?" asked dick with a grin on his face. "pie? more pie? well, now--what kind is there left?" "apple, and apple, and--apple." "huh! don't like them. guess i'll take apple. yes, a small piece of apple would just about finish me off." billee dobb put down his fork and gazed up at the kid. "did i understand you to relate that you was goin' to eat some more pie?" he asked carefully. "you did--why?" the veteran rancher arose and, walking over to another table, he seized a bunch of artificial flowers that were set in a vase. carrying them over to the kid, he held them reverently out before him. "my little offering," he murmured, "to one who will be with us no longer." the diners in the restaurant, all of whom were observing the scene, let out a roar of laughter. it was so ludicrous to see the old puncher indulge in a joke that it seemed twice as funny as if anyone else had done it. billee dobb certainly scored heavily. as the ranchers were leaving the restaurant they passed a mexican who was coming in. dick looked sharply at him. something about the shape of his back seemed vaguely familiar, and the boy was about to say something when joe hawkins, who was the last out, exclaimed: "did you see that greaser just going in herb's? one of the worst men in town. i'm telling you because he works on the next place to yours. if i were you i'd leave him entirely alone. not that you'll have trouble with him--but forewarned, you know. well, boys here's where i leave you. got to get back to the office, and see how things are. i reckon i'll see you right soon, as you're so close, and anything i can do for you, let me know ime-jit! think i'll take a run out to your place within the next week, and see how you make out. well, _adios_, boys. good luck!" with a wave of his hand he was off. the boys were sorry to see him leave, for he was very pleasant company. "i have an idea he'll be a good friend," declared nort as they rode toward the ranch. "and if anything turns up, we may need a couple of such friends." "he's regular, all right," the kid agreed. "looks as though he could handle himself in a fight, too. doesn't talk much, but when he does--he says something. yep, he suits me to a t." "good thing we met him," dick said. "well, boys, here we are!" in front lay the ranch. as the five drew closer, they could see that the houses were well built. it was indeed in good shape. "say, here comes somebody that's sure in a hurry," billee dobb said suddenly. "wonder what he wants?" riding toward them, dust raising under his bronco's feet, came a lone horseman. chapter vi the threat pulling their ponies to a halt, the five gazed curiously at the approaching rider. as he drew closer, they noticed he carried a sawed-off "scatter-gun," otherwise a shotgun. this in itself was strange. no true westerner ever sports one of these, and they are looked upon with derision by the regular "gun-totin'" cowboy. a long-barreled colt is the puncher's favorite weapon. the stranger reined up sharply as he came within talking distance and looked piercingly at the ranchers as he called out: "anything i can do for you?" "well, i don' know," answered the kid slowly. "you might, and then again you might not. what happens to be your special line?" the stranger scowled. "that's my business. what i'm aimin' to find out is, what's yours?" "this is the shooting star, isn't it?" broke in bud. "it is." "well, we're the new owners. my name is bud merkel--my father just bought this ranch, and we came over to take possession. this is dick shannon, and his brother nort. billee dobb and yellin' kid on my right. will that do you? now how about tellin' us who you are?" "me? oh, jim'll do, i guess. i happen to be the boss hand on this here sheep ranch. so you're the new owners, hey? wonder what old 'j. d.' will have to say to that. you got papers, i suppose?" "certainly. here is the bill of sale, and----" "take it easy, bud, take it easy," billie dobb cautioned in a low tone of voice. "i don't exactly care for this feller's looks." "who's 'j. d.'--the one tendin' the ranch now?" asked the kid. "yea--only he's not exactly tendin' it. he's here, and something tells me he's goin' to stay here--new owners or not. 'j. d.' don't care much about owners. what he's interested in is keepin' what he's got. and as far as i can see, he's still got the shootin' star." "i don't like to dispute your word," nort said hotly, "but we might have something to say about that ourselves. come on, boys, let's ride in." "just a minute--just a minute! where you-all countin' on headin' for?" sneered the lone horseman. "the ranch house, of course!" "now just you let me give you-all a little piece of advice. i won't charge nothin' for it, and it _might_ be useful. if i was you boys, i'd turn _right_ around and ride the other way. tell you what you do, youngster--" this to bud--"you tell your father you couldn't find the ranch." there was a moment's ominous silence. the kid was the first to speak. "well, now, stranger, that's kind of you. yes, sir, i think that's right kind of you to take an interest in us like that," he drawled. "but you know how it is. we sort of want to find out things for ourselves. so if you don't mind--" his tone changed suddenly. "we'll be gettin' along to the ranch. out of the way, puncher! let's go, boys!" the stranger's eyes narrowed. he half raised his rifle, then apparently thinking better of it, let it drop again. as the five moved forward he rode slowly along in the rear. they reached the corral at the side of the house, and bud and dick dismounted. nort, billee, and the kid stayed on their ponies. walking to the door of the house, bud knocked boldly. there was no answer. he knocked again, this time a little harder. still no result. "wonder if there's anyone around?" asked dick. "suppose we take a look at the side." "here's someone," bud declared as there was a sound of a key grating in a lock. "they certainly keep things tight down here." the door opened slowly. in its frame stood a man of slight build, and, by cowboy standards, dressed effeminately. he wore a "boiled" collar, small black string tie, low cut vest and gray trousers. his long black hair, with a slight shine on it, was brushed straight back. "what'll you have, gents?" he asked. "lookin' for me?" "we're looking for the man in charge of the ranch," dick said slowly. "if you can qualify, then i guess it's you we want to see." "right! and what can i do for you?" "this will tell you," spoke bud, handing him a copy of the bill of sale for the ranch. "we're the new owners. you rent the place, don't you? i believe the deed says your term was up last month. sorry to have to put you out, but business is business. can you get ready to shift by to-morrow morning, do you think? we'll make out down in town for to-night." the man in the doorway didn't answer. he read over the paper bud had handed him and then looked up. his expression was anything but friendly. "and i'm supposed to beat it out of here, hey?" he asked coldly. "afraid so," answered bud. the man suddenly stepped to one side. "come in a minute, boys," he suggested. it was evident that his manner had undergone a change. he seemed more friendly. "you just get in?" he asked. "yes--we were delayed on the way, or we would have gotten here sooner." "sit down, boys." as the slightly-built man was drawing up chairs bud cast a quick glance at dick. "watch out"! his look signaled. but there seemed no need for suspicion. "j. d.," as they had heard him called, appeared harmless. "i take it you boys are sensible?" he began when they were seated. "hope so," dick answered with a slight grin. "we've never been in any asylum that i know of." "check! now i'd like to talk business with you. first of all, could you use one thousand dollars?" at this surprising query dick and bud started. one thousand dollars! it represented a small fortune. bud thought of the herd of cattle they had just lost and was about to reply affirmatively, when he felt, rather than saw, a cautioning look come into dick's eyes. "that's a lot of money," declared dick, before bud could speak. "we could certainly use it, but you know it pays to be careful how one earns it. robbery is a bit out of our line." "oh, it's nothing like that--nothing like that at all," the other assured them quickly. "this thousand that i speak of can be yours for just doing me a favor." "sounds like a high price to pay for a favor," dick said. "but let's hear the proposition." "sure! it's simply this: you boys let me stay on at the ranch here, for, say, six more months, and as rental i'll pay you one grand." "but certainly this place can't be worth that much to you," broke in bud thoughtlessly. it was a very unwise remark, for it was obvious that this excessive figure was offered for something more than the mere use of the ranch. "j. d." had made the mistake of going too high in his offer, and it instantly awoke suspicion in the minds of dick and bud. but now that bud had blurted out this suspicion, the possibility of being able to secretly find out why they had been offered a thousand for the place disappeared. the cards were on the table. "as to that, i'm the best judge," "j. d." said sharply. "if you want to accept, say so. if you don't--well----." "can we have until to-morrow to think it over?" asked dick. "nope--sorry, but i have to have your answer now. all you have to do is to sign the present owner's name to a renewal clause--and since he's your father, he won't object to that," said the man, turning to bud. evidently he was anxious to get things settled as soon as possible--perhaps before the boys had a chance to investigate. dick looked at bud, and saw that he had permission to take things into his own hands. dick arose. "well, sir, we can't do it, and that's that. we were sent out here to take charge of this ranch, and we're going to do it, unless mr. merkel tells us to do otherwise. you must get in touch with him if you want a renewal of your lease. and until that time we must take control here. we are sorry, but we must ask you to make ready to leave by to-morrow morning." the man seated opposite did not move. "is that your last word?" he asked, slowly. "yes, it is. if we can offer you any assistance in getting ready we'll be glad to do it." the man made no response. he arose suddenly, walked over to the door and flung it open. then he turned to the two boys and with a sneer upon his face, said: "very well! you've had your say, and now i'll make my little speech. you guys come over here and think all you have to do is to tell me to move out, and you move in. i don't know who you are--never saw you before. for that matter i don't want to know. you show me some kind of a paper that you may have written yourselves, and expect me to accept it as a bill of sale. well, that's out. i don't go. "and another thing! i don' know how many men you brought with you, but i've got twelve here that will stick close to me. so don't start anything. good-day, gents!" it was a moment before bud and dick realized the import of what had just been said. then, tight-lipped, they started for the door. neither said a word as they passed out, and behind them the door slammed shut. as they approached the three waiting by the corral they must have shown by their expressions that things had not gone well, for nort said: "what's the trouble, dick?" "let's ride around a bit," spoke the kid quickly. the rider with the saw-off shot-gun was still within hearing. "great weather we're havin', ain't it? though it might rain soon," and he looked over to where the other sat with one leg resting against his saddle horn. "not so good, hey?" this cowboy called over. "come see us again, when you can stay longer," and he chuckled at his joke. "we will," answered nort grimly. "in fact, we intend to----" "now do you know, i think it looks a mite like rain myself," interrupted billee dobb in a musing tone of voice. "them clouds over there are pretty heavy. you say you want to ride around a bit, kid?" "yea. just a little. let's go, men." chapter vii a sheepless sheep ranch with as few words as possible bud told the kid of their talk with "j. d." riding slowly along, the kid made no comment for several minutes. finally dick burst out: "for pete's sake, kid, let's hear you say something! don't you think it's mighty queer behavior for a tenant of a sheep ranch? the way i understand the facts, he hired the place to raise sheep on, about thirteen months ago. now when his year is up he refuses to get off. there are plenty of other farms further back from the border he could get. i don't think your father bought the sheep with this ranch, did he, bud?" "i believe he contracted with the owner that one thousand heads of woolies were to be sent to him within a month of taking possession. this tenant, whoever he is, will walk his sheep when he goes, of course. i thought it was unusual to hire a ranch to raise sheep on for only one year, but dad said the sheep get some sort of a disease if they're not walked frequently, and i guess this fellow sort of figured on trying it out for a year before settling down to a permanent place. the owner of the ranch lives up north somewhere, and dad simply bought him out. why dad wanted to go in for woolies i don't know, but he must have had his reasons." "then we won't have to start sheep nursin' right away," nort said. "we'll have to get this 'j. d.' out before we can do anything," declared bud. "what do you think about it, kid? i don't want to run to dad at the first sign of trouble, but it looks as though we had a job on our hands before we really begin herding." yellin' kid pushed his sombrero to the back of his head and looked up. "well, boys, i'll tell you," he said slowly. "while bud and dick were inside gassin' i took a good look around. and i'll tell you a funny thing; i didn't see no sign of sheep ever being on this here ranch at all. no feedin' troughs, no hurdles, no nothin'. billee, how about it? did this look like a sheep ranch to you?" "not any," the veteran puncher answered laconically. "of course i'm no sheep expert, but i can tell a sheep ranch when i see one. usually they have a feedin' ground around somewhere, for the woolies to feed in durin' the winter. and they have troughs to put the fodder in when they can't get to the range to graze, for sheep are dam perticular what they eat off of. maybe it was away 'round the back somewhere, but i couldn't spot it." "that's what i thought," went on the kid. "of course he may have sold all the sheep a while back, and cleared his truck away at the same time, but it don't hardly seem likely he could get rid of all traces. where ever sheep go, you can usually tell they been there." he paused reflectively and added: "sort of queer that deputy we met didn't say something about there bein' no sheep here. did you tell him we was expectin' to find a sheep ranch?" "now that you mention it, i don't believe i did," bud answered. "i said we were going to take charge of a ranch. he probably thought we were bringing the cattle over later." "probably. so your friend in the house told you he'd give one thousand bucks if you'd let him stay, did he?" "yep. that made me suspicious right away, and i foolishly spoke up and told him as much. then he said it was his affair if he wanted to pay that much to stay on. i knew that dad wouldn't want me to allow him to do that without his permission, so i refused--asked him if i could let him know later. but no, that wouldn't do. he wanted me to sign an extension right away. then when i told him i couldn't do that, he threatened to stay anyway, and practically dared us to put him off." "he did, hey? that sort of puts it up to us, don't it?" "you know what i think would be a good idee?" billee dobb broke in. "we ought to go down and have a talk with joe hawkins. tell him what we found, and ask him if he's got any advice he'd like to dish up. seemed to me he was a pretty reliable feller." "not bad--not bad," said yellin' kid approvingly. "he said he'd be glad to help us any time. not that we're goin' to need any help gettin' this dude off," he added quickly. "but it might be a good idea to have the law on our side." "we can see him and get him to sign a dispossess notice," nort suggested. "i don't know whether he knows what that is, but it's just a paper saying we have a right to put out whoever is on the land." "we'll do that, nort," agreed dick. "then we can start right. let's get on, fellows. it's getting late, and we want to catch hawkins before he leaves for home." spurring their broncoes to a faster pace, the five made their way toward the town. the suggestion that they were to confer with the friendly deputy seemed a wise one, not because they were afraid to tackle the job of removing "j. d." alone, but because they wanted to know just how things stood. perhaps by inquiry they could gain some clew as to why the tenant refused to vacate. if he sincerely wanted an extension of his lease to legitimately conduct the business of ranching, he was going about it in a queer way. as the riders reached the town, they stopped a cow puncher and asked where they could find joe hawkins. "right down the street a ways," they were told. "can't miss it. jail, court house and sheriff's office all in one. some shootin' been goin' on?" "not that we know of," dick laughed. "though there might be soon," said bud impetuously. "how's that? you figgerin' on pluggin' someone, youngster?" the cowboy inquired with a grin. "not hardly," the kid spoke quickly. "we just want to see hawkins about some land. thanks for the info." their friend looked back at bud and grinned again as he rode away. "evidently thinks you're an amateur bad man," said billee dobb. "you'll have a reputation in this town before you know it, bud." by this time they had reached the sheriff's office. all dismounted and went in. they found hawkins seated in a chair talking to another man who was leaning against the side wall gazing out of the window. the deputy sprang to his feet as he saw the boys, the light of welcome in his eyes. "come in, boys, come in. jerry, i'd like you to meet some new friends of mine. this here is bud merkel. over here is--er----" "my cousins, nort and dick shannon," finished bud. "and billee dobb and yellin' kid--if he ever had another name i've forgotten it, and i guess he has too." the deputy's friend laughed and joe said: "this is jerry adler, boys. say, i thought you fellers were headed for the shootin' star?" "we were," bud answered, "but something happened that we want to ask you about." "guess i'll be goin'," said jerry adler. "i'll drop in to-morrow about that matter, joe. no hurry, you know." "all right, jerry. glad to see you any time. now, boys," and he turned to the five standing near him, "what can i do for you? or is it just a friendly visit? if it is, i'm right glad you stopped in. now that you're here, you must come over to my place for supper. got the best cook you ever saw." "thanks, mr. hawkins," responded bud. "we may take advantage of that later. but just now we want to ask your advice." "go right to it, bud. if i can help you i'll sure do it!" "when we went over to the shooting star," bud began, "we expected to find a sheep ranch. instead we find a place that could be used for sheep, but certainly isn't now. we went in and showed our credentials, and asked the occupant, who was called 'j. d.,' i think, if he could move out by to-morrow, so we could get ready to move in. "whoever this 'j. d.' is, he isn't a cow puncher, nor a herder either. he's dressed like a chicago dude," stated bud. the deputy nodded understandingly. evidently he was not surprised at bud's description of the shooting star and its tenant. "well, as i say, we asked him to leave. he not only refused, but threatened trouble if we tried to put him out. said he had twelve men who'd help him, too. so we thought, if you'd give us a dispossess notice, we could go up there with authority and if he still turned ugly--well--we could do as we thought fit." "i see. he told you he wouldn't leave?" "yes." "he has no right to stay there, has he?" "none at all. he rented the ranch from the man who formerly owned it, but his lease was up a month ago. dad bought the place free and clear. we were to manage it for him, and take charge of the sheep when they came in. i believe they are to be driven over in about two weeks." "in about two weeks? well, boys, i can't exactly say i'm surprised at your story. i don't mind sayin' we've been puzzled at the actions of this 'j. d.'--james delton, i think his name is--for some time now. when he first came he did have some sheep--not many, and he sold them a month after he took the ranch. since then it's been empty, though, as he says, he's got a number of hands on the place. they keep it in good shape, as you may have noticed. but what his business is nobody seems to know. of course out here a man doesn't go pryin' into other people's affairs unless he's fairly certain there's something wrong. i'll go to shooting star with you!" taking his belt and pistol holster from a hanger, the deputy led the way from the office. mounted once more, the party swung away toward the shooting star ranch. nort looked over at the kid. "why that smile, kid?" he asked. "was i smilin'? i didn't know it. say, nort, looks as though we might hand ourselves somethin' of a time before we finish with this 'j. d.' feller." "and you're kind of hopin' we do, hey kid? the last time i saw you smile like that was just before we had that fight with the del pinzo gang. hope you don't expect another ruckus out here, as bad as that one." "and if we did, i suppose you'd run away and hide your head," laughed the kid derisively. "yes you would not! you'd be in the thick of it with the rest of us." "perhaps," admitted nort with a grin. "however, i really don't think we'll have any trouble. from bud's description of delton he's sort of a weak-kneed type. we'll just have to tell him what's what, and i'm sure he'll back down." "can't tell," the kid averred. "those dudes have sometimes got a mean lot of fight in them." up ahead joe hawkins and bud were talking in low tones. finally bud turned about and called to the rest: "close up a minute, fellows. mr. hawkins has something to say before we reach the ranch." "it's just this," began the deputy, when they had gathered around him. "the way i figure, there's no sense of us all going in to see delton. if we call on him like a delegation, he'll get het up, and be more disagreeable than if we went about this thing quietly. now bud and i will go in. you four stay around the corral, and kid and billee, while you're waiting, you might take a ride around and size up the place. see if you can discover traces of sheep bein' here in the last six months, and whatever else you can find out. all right, boys, here we are. remember what i told you, kid. let's go, bud!" the two dismounted. turning their horses over to nort, they walked toward the ranch house. the deputy stepped to the door and knocked. "he took quite a while to answer when we were here before," bud suggested. "better knock again." the deputy did so. "'pears like he don't care for no visitors. wonder if we can see anything by lookin' in the window?" "i'll have a try," volunteered bud. stepping to the side of the house he peered in the casement. "too dark," he reported. "can't see a thing!" "must be somebody around," hawkins declared, as he knocked again, this time more loudly. within all was quiet. "funny," he commented. then suddenly he turned the doorknob. the door swung open. after a quick glance the deputy walked in. "not a soul in sight!" he called after a minute. "the place is sure deserted. not only have they got no sheep on this place, but even the men are gone now!" chapter viii cyclone following the deputy into the house, bud looked about. the place _felt_ vacant. it had an atmosphere of emptiness. the furniture in the rooms had a tossed-about appearance, as though the occupants had made a hurried exit. a cheap vase lay on the floor by the mantel, broken. rugs were kicked up. "well, what do you think of that?" bud said slowly. "they're gone! vamoosed! and quick, too. must have done some tall hustlin' to get out in that short time. wonder what the idea was? do you think delton might be around back, or somewhere outside?" "better look, anyway." hawkins stepped to the doorway and suddenly let out a yell. "yo-o-o-o, kid! over here!" "yo-o!" came the answer. "right there!" and yellin' kid, together with billee dobb, rode to the ranch house. "what'll you have!" the kid called as he came up. "take a ride around the place and see if you can locate someone; will you? the house is empty." "right! billee, you ride to the left and i'll go this way. back in two shakes." "mighty queer where everyone has disappeared to," hawkins commented. "when you were here before, bud, did they look as though they were getting ready to light out?" "nope--just the opposite. as i told you, delton insisted that he was going to stay. i can't imagine what scared them off. unless delton decided discretion was the better part of valor. it certainly doesn't seem logical that they'd make tracks like this, after what delton said." "here comes the kid. got someone with him; hasn't he?" asked bud. "he sure has--a mex, i'd say." "the lone survivor!" the kid yelled as he rode toward them. "bud, recognize him?" and he pushed the mexican, whom he held by the collar, forward. "why, he's the fellow we saw in the restaurant! remember, mr. hawkins? the one you pointed out; isn't he?" "you mean pete alvido? come 'ere, son--let's have a look at you." the deputy peered closely. "nope! sure looks like pete, but it isn't. 'nough like him to be his brother, though. hey, mex, what's your name? what are you doin' around here?" the mexican didn't answer. he simply shrugged his shoulders, and stood silent, his face expressionless. "speak up, boy! what's your name?" still no reply. "lost your tongue, mex?" the kid broke in. "take my advice, and answer when you're spoken to." the kid touched his gun suggestively. not that he would have thought of enforcing his half-uttered threat, but he simply wanted to show the mexican they meant business. at this the man gesticulated toward his throat, and a guttural sound came from his lips. "why the pore cuss means he's dumb!" exclaimed billee dobb, who had ridden in. "can't speak! hey you! no spik? no _habla_?" the mexican shook his head forcibly. "a dumb greaser!" cried the kid. "well, he's not much of a find. he's the only one left of this outfit, though. hey, mex! where's the boss? gone?" with a widespread gesture of his arms the man indicated his lack of knowledge of the subject. at least he seemed to understand a little english. "can't get much out of him," hawkins commented. "well, boys, seems like you'll have no more trouble takin' possession of the shootin' star. it's yours. say--" and he turned to their captive. "what's your job? vaquero? herder? cook?" at the last word the mexican nodded vigorously. "you're in luck, boys. here's a cook all ready for you. got any food inside? eats?" the deputy asked the mexican. he was answered with another affirmative shake of the head. "now you're all fixed up for the night. might as well call in the other two. what's their name again? shannon, isn't it? kid, you give 'em a yell. you seem to be able to do that particularly well." nort and dick came riding over in response to the kid's summons. "who's this you got, kid?" asked nort. "some friend of yours? why, he's the mexican we saw in herb's!" "no he isn't--that's what i thought too," bud said. "mr. hawkins says it's another--though it sure looks like him. this one's dumb." "what do you mean--stupid?" "no--can't talk. at least he says he can't--i mean he wants us to understand that he can't." bud corrected himself. "i've got to be getting back," interrupted the deputy. "i suppose you men will settle here, now that you've got a cook and food. that is, if he'll cook for you and you want to take a chance that he won't poison you. hey, you--cook for _hombres_?" again that vigorous nod. "seems agreeable enough. now if you want anything, you know where to reach me. if it's at night, you'll find me down the street 'bout half a mile from the office, on the same side. anyone will tell you where joe hawkins's place is. so long, boys. again, good luck." "good-bye, mr. hawkins. we're much obliged to you for riding over with us." "glad to do it, bud. any time at all. git along there, bronc. _adios_!" "so-long!" "'bye!" "at last we're here," nort declared. "no trace of anyone around; hey bud? wonder what became of them. i wouldn't mind seeing our little friend with the sawed-off shot-gun again." "let's not look for trouble," dick suggested. "i think what happened was that this fellow you call 'j. d.' decided to take the opportunity to get out without trouble. i don't believe we'll see him again." "maybe not. we've got enough to worry about without him. kid, suppose you take charge of getting things ready for the night. those sheep won't be here for a week or so, and in the meantime we can fix things up a bit. to-morrow i'll go scouting around for a good sheepman. there ought to be plenty in town. all right, kid, we're under your orders." "check! nort, you take the horses to the corral and see that they get fed. i guess you'll find some feed around somewhere--there's a barn down there a piece--look there. dick, you go see what sort of sleepin' quarters they got here. it might be well for us to stay here in the house for the night. we can settle on a bunk house later. the rest of you can make yourselves generally useful. i'll go 'tend to the eats. mex, we need food! where's the kitchen?" apparently understanding, the mexican led the way toward the rear, followed by the kid. the lay-out of the place was a great deal like that of the ordinary cattle ranch. indeed, if one were not wholly familiar with the types of dwellings which dot the texas border, he would be hard put to show the difference between a cattle and a sheep ranch. the corral of the cattle ranch would be built of stronger boards, and on the sheep ranch, or "farm," there would be huge vats for "dipping" the sheep, to cure them of any disease they might have contracted. but except for these minor differences the two ranches are much the same. of course the personnel of the sheep ranch would not be as extensive as that of the cattle ranch--one herder being able to adequately care for two thousand head of sheep. in shearing time the ranch hands are increased, to take care of this added labor. so it is not strange to find five hands prepared to take over the management of a whole sheep ranch. naturally it would be necessary to hire some "sheep man" to handle the technical part of the venture, for sheep are delicate creatures, and a green manager could easily lose his whole herd in short order. it was now five o'clock. with a fire roaring in the kitchen and the ranchers hurrying here and there about the place, it seemed home-like and cheerful. "be all set in half an hour," the kid called to bud as he stepped out in the yard for a moment. "found plenty of bacon and beans, and enough other stuff to make a pretty fair meal. reckon you-all can eat, if you're anything like me. what do you think of the place, bud?" "pretty fair, kid, pretty fair. looks as though we may be able to make something of it. i've been thinking of buying a radio outfit to keep us company on long winter evenings. you know we bring in the sheep then, and we'll have to stick close to home to take care of them." "a wireless! a sparkin' outfit! what are you goin' to do, bud, put them woolies to sleep with music?" "hardly that," bud laughed. "you'll be glad we got it when you hear some of the big fights being reported, just as though you were at the ringside. but apart from that, what do you make of this situation, kid?" "you mean comin' back here an' not findin' anybody? gee, i don't know, bud! might be any one of several reasons why this 'j. d.' bird skipped out. 'course i didn't actually see him, but something tells me he couldn't stand a close look-in to his ways and means of business. "'course i shouldn't run down a guy that i never saw. but there's been a lot of funny work goin' on in these parts, and if anyone wanted to be crooked, this is the best place in the world for it. you know this ranch property is right on the border line between mexico and u. s." "say, kid, look how dark it's getting all of a sudden," bud interrupted as he looked up into the sky and tested with his hand the direction of the slight breeze blowing. "wind's in the east. rain, i guess. getting hotter, too. why yes, kid, i guess you're right about this ranch being a good place to pull shady work. but i don't believe we'll have any trouble." the kid whirled around. the next moment he was on his way inside. "get the others together!" he yelled. "there's a cyclone comin'!" bud scarcely heard him. he stood still, fascinated by the tremendous spectacle. chapter ix delton returns cyclones are somewhat rare visitors on the prairies, but when they do come they make up for lost time. bud, though he had lived the greater part of his life on the range, had never seen one. now he stood with his face to the east, drinking in the awesome sight. the eastern sky was covered with a blanket of black, ominous-looking clouds, which quickly expanded and filled the whole heavens with their darkness. the breeze had died away and a deathlike stillness hung in the air. nature seemed to be hesitating, gathering up her forces for a tremendous onslaught. suddenly the black clouds in the east were tinted to a coppery color, which slowly turned to a dark green. and still bud stood, oblivious to all else save the grandeur of the scene before him. within the ranch house the men were scurrying about, shutting windows, glancing out now and then to see the progress of the approaching storm. billee dobb ran to where the kid was struggling with one of the sashes. "how about the horses!" he yelled. though there wasn't a sound without, by a curious phenomena the men talked in shouts, as though they were trying to make themselves heard above a roaring. "isn't nort out there?" the kid answered, also loudly. "better make certain, billee! they'll be killed sure if the funnel takes them sideways!" "if the funnel hits us we won't care whether we ever saw a bronc or not!" answered the veteran rancher. "we'll all be usin' wings then, not ponies. i'll take a look outside." "take dick with you! i'm finished here. we've only got about six minutes before she hits. what a fine welcome this is! we no sooner get settled, after havin' a time doin' that, when we're all set to get blown away." the kid was hurrying to the back of the house. he hesitated as he reached the kitchen, and looked in. "by the ghost of my aunt lizzie's cat!" he cried as he saw through the doorway. "if that crazy mex ain't still fryin' bacon just as calm as if he was on fifth avenoo! hey, you locoed greaser, big wind comin'!" he gesticulated vigorously. "whosh-whosh! whee! zip-zip-bang! all over! savvy?" he stopped his dramatic explanation of the oncoming cyclone to see if the mexican understood. to his surprise the cook nodded several times and pointed toward the sky, turning his other arm windmill fashion. his lips gave forth a whistling sound. after this demonstration he motioned to his bacon, rubbed his stomach, shrugged his shoulders, and went on with his cooking. no words could have said plainer: "sure! i know. cyclone coming. what of it? can't stop it now. must eat. might as well stay here and cook. hey?" "well, if you're not a cool customer!" the kid cried, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and tilting back on his heels. "cook! go ahead an' cook! you might just as well say hello to st. peter with a fryin' pan in your hand as not. how does she look, nort?" he asked as the boy rancher came in the door. "not so good! where's bud?" "bud? i thought he was with you. maybe he's helping with the broncoes. i'll take a squint here in back--" as the kid stepped into the yard he saw bud--standing silent, widened eyes staring at the sky. the kid started back in surprise. "another guy that's gone locoed! first the cook, and then you! hey, nort, take a look at bud. he's in a trance or something! wake up, time to get up!" "wonderful!" murmured bud, without turning his head. "isn't that wonderful, kid? see those colors! the most marvelous thing i ever saw. if i could only paint that! it would be a sensation!" "sensation ain't all you'll be if you don't start movin' quick!" the kid declared. "nort, take bud with you and see if everything is all o. k. we've got about three minutes before the show starts. i think we'll be able to tell if the funnel is goin' to hit us, and if it does, we've got to let things ride and head for the cellar." he stopped suddenly. the five leaned forward, tense, still. a low moaning filled the air. first like the drone of a huge bumble-bee, it gradually increased in intensity. the ranchers strained their eyes toward the east, where the copper tint had merged to a sickly green. a light breeze sprang up, hot, suffocating. "here she comes, boys! heads up! get ready to make a dive for the cellar!" all looked around to make sure that the door of the cyclone cellar--a dugout ten feet from the house--was within easy reach. they moved a bit closer. then it happened. from out of the greenish clouds tore a huge black funnel, tip down, capped with a wreath of lightning. with a roar it beat its way across the prairie. as it rushed along it took with it all movable things. lined with brushes, trees and dust, it seemed to head straight for the ranch. the five waited no longer. with a leap they reached the cyclone cellar. the kid was the last in, and just before he disappeared below ground he looked again at the roaring funnel of wind. it was almost upon them. in another moment, unless a near-miracle occurred, there would be nothing left of the shooting star but a few timbers. the ranch lay directly in the path. cyclones are freaks of nature. even as the kid watched, hoping that the terrible funnel might be diverted, nature gave a demonstration of one of its most startling feats. the funnel lifted. within three hundred yards of the ranch the tip raised above the ground. as though a giant hand had pulled it up into the heavens, the whirling, twisting cyclone merged into the blackness overhead. a tremendous pressure beat against the kid's body. the air about was tingling with electricity. and there, directly above the kid's head, sailed the terrible funnel, its tip held harmlessly aloft from contact with the ground, thundering and screaming in disappointed rage. for several seconds the "twister" remained suspended. then two hundred yards past the ranch it dipped to earth again, and went smashing along on its mission of destruction and death. the ranch was saved. the kid silently led the way out of the cellar. as the five stood once more above ground, they looked about at the surroundings. off in the distance the cyclone could be seen whirling along, gradually growing smaller and smaller as it departed. as they watched the terror disappear, a prayer of thankfulness was in the heart of each. it was indeed a near-miracle that had saved the ranch from complete annihilation. bud was the first to speak. his utterance was not exactly fraught with elegancy, but it expressed the feelings of all. "whew!" he said with a long, drawn-out sigh. "and then some!" cried dick. "what a show that was!" "boy!" billee dobb breathed. "i'm sure glad we got missed! when i saw that ole baby comin', i says 'raise yore sights, buster, raise yore sights! you got the wrong range!' an' blamed if she didn't raise, too!" a laugh started--the kind that relieves the soul after a tense and dangerous moment. bud broke out in a loud guffaw. then the kid let loose--and for two minutes the air re-echoed with the shouts of glee of the five ranchers. nothing really to laugh at; this laughter was not exactly in appreciation of billee's remark. it was more in the nature of a celebration. "whusch!" cried bud weakly, when he could get his breath. "you crazy coot! so you're the one that lifted the cyclone, hey? well, you sure did a good job of it!" the ranchers made their way over to where the horses had been tied. "o. k.!" dick yelled as he came up. "they're all there. not a hair on 'em touched. bet they thought it was the end of the world, though!" "sure!" assented nort. "now, now, old hoss!" dick said soothingly as he stroked the nose of his pony. "scared, eh? well, i don't blame you a bit. look at this one shake! take it easy, boy--it's all over. easy, there! feel better now? that's the stuff--walk around a bit. do you good. steady! steady!" the horses were quickly calmed. assured by the presence of their masters that they were safe, they soon stopped quivering, and breathed easier. a good horse trusts implicitly in his rider. "i'll take 'em over nearer the house," declared the kid. "they'll feel better when they get movin'. by the way--wonder what happened to our cook? last time i saw him he was fryin' bacon. take a run to the kitchen, dick, and look, will you?" "sure. say, there's one shack down," dick said as he pointed to the wreck of a small building. "probably was a bunk house. we won't need one of those for a while, anyway. well, will you look at that roof!" the kid indicated another out-house. its roof was turned directly around, so that the back was where the front should be. not a board on it was broken. "looks like a crazy-house down at coney island!" laughed nort. "dick, i thought you were going to see about eats? i'm starved." dick walked toward the kitchen. before he got there the aroma of cooking bacon told the waiting cowboys that the mexican was still on the job. "must have the whole place full of food by this time," bud commented. "think i'll take another look around, kid. billee, you want to come along? i just want to make sure we haven't missed anything." the two set off on a tour of inspection. it was growing dark now, and it would soon be too late to repair that night anything that was damaged. "guess we haven't lost much," bud said to the veteran rancher. "we're pretty lucky, eh, billee?" "sure are! we'll just look around the corner of this building, however, and then go back. i'm sort of hungry myself." "me too. hope that mex has--" bud broke off suddenly. he peered hard at the earth in the shadow of the shack. then he walked swiftly over. on the ground lay the body of a man, face down. bud grasped him gently by the arm and turned him over. on his forehead was a long cut, from which blood was flowing. bud looked sharply at his face, then started back in surprise. "well, i'll be jiggered!" he said slowly. "it's delton!" chapter x bud finds a note billee dobb approached deliberately and gazed long and earnestly into the face of the recumbent man. "so that's delton, is it?" he said. "he sure took a funny way to come back. wonder if he's--" the rancher stooped swiftly and laid his hand on the breast of the man. "nope! still living. we'd better get him to the house soon as possible. grab hold there, bud." lifting him as gently as they could, so they might not cause the blood to flow more strongly, they carried the injured man toward the ranch house. they laid him on the couch in the living-room, which was known as the "parlor," and generally reserved for funerals. "i'll get some water and bandages--if i can find any," said bud when he had disposed of his burden. "that white shirt of the kid's will do," billee suggested as bud made for the door. "he's got it rolled up in his saddle pack." the man on the couch seemed to be breathing more strongly now. the blood from the cut had partly clotted, and the flow was greatly diminished. but a glance at his face showed that he was in a very weak condition. "must have been lyin' out there quite a spell," billee commented, as bud returned with the shirt and a basin of water. the news of the unconscious visitor had traveled fast, for dick, nort and the kid followed bud into the room. "who is he?" asked the kid as he bent over. "little feller, ain't he?" "recognize him, dick?" bud said, kneeling down by the man's side and dipping one end of the shirt in his basin. "no, can't say that i--yes i do, too! it's the fellow that was here when we came--the one who offered us the thousand! it's 'j. d.'!" "right. we found him lying over by a shack, dead to the world. billee and i carried him in here. seems to have a nasty cut, but i don't believe it's dangerous. way he talked to me here awhile ago, he's too ornery to die." "must have been caught in the big wind," nort said. "hit by a board, probably." "so that's delton, hey?" yellin' kid drawled. "well, mister, i'm pleased to make your acquaintance. you don't look pertikerly dangerous to me. but you can't tell about these quiet ones. liable to fly up any minute. don't wash that blood off, bud! leave it lay. have him bleedin' again if you don't watch out. nort, mosey out an' see if that dumb mex has got the coffee ready. bring in some, will you? leave the 'canned cow' out of it. when this boy wakes up he wants something strong." the man's eyes opened for a minute, then closed again. the dusk outside was settling rapidly now, and the room was growing darker. dick ran to the kitchen and returned with a lighted candle, which he held close to the head of the recumbent figure. by this time their visitor had regained consciousness, and was staring wide-eyed at the group surrounding the couch--three men leaning expectantly over his body, while a fourth held a lighted candle aloft like a weird statue. little wonder that a man awaking to such surroundings would be somewhat bewildered. "how do you feel, mister?" yellin' kid asked solicitously when he saw that delton was conscious. "not so--good," was the jerky answer. "stomach--sick--head feels--" "swally this," urged billee holding to his lips the steaming coffee nort had brought from the kitchen. "sure it's hot! don't want cold sody, do ya? 'at's-a-boy--drink 'er down! better now?" "yea," the man answered in a weak voice. "what happened? woolworth tower fall on me? wow! what a head! seems to me i remember takin' a subway train at times square--or was that last year? can't just think straight now----" "new york," whispered bud to dick. "thought he didn't look like a westerner!" "just you lay quiet," advised yellin' kid. "won't do you a bit of good to talk now. got lots of time to do that. you stay here to-night, an'----" "i remember now! that storm! i was riding over toward the shootin' star ranch, when the sky got black, and that dumb-bell horse of mine started to act up. the next minute i got hit by a ton of bricks." he was silent a moment, thinking. "say--" he suddenly propped himself up on one elbow and glanced around. "i know where i am! yes. and i know you--and you!" pointing at bud and dick. "you're the two galoots that--oh!" he finished weakly, and sank back. he closed his eyes again. it was not evident to the watchers whether he had really fainted, or whether he realized he was talking too much. at all events it was useless to expect him to say more. at bud's suggestion he was carried upstairs, and after his heavier clothing had been removed he was laid in one of the beds. he seemed to be resting easily, and if his sleepy attitude was simulated at first, it certainly was not now, as his regular breathing and relaxed condition indicated. "better let him sleep," dick said in a low voice. "he'll be all right when he wakes up. the bleeding from his head has stopped, and if he had anything else the matter he would have told us. i think we'd all better eat. let's get out of here, anyway--we'll disturb him if we talk much." "eat!" exclaimed the kid when they had all left the room wherein delton lay. "let's see now--have i heard that word before, or did i dream it? believe me, when i sit down to this chow nothin' is goin' to drag me away--fire, wind or flood! seems like that mex cook of ours is a hoodoo. every time we start to eat something happens." "guess we'll go through with it all right this time," dick remarked with a laugh. "here we are, boys. set! and go to it! enough bacon here for an army. kid, go easy on that bread! you want to choke?" the five were seated around a table in the rear of the house. in the middle of the table was a huge plate of bacon, and next to this was a mess of beans, steaming hot. bread, butter, coffee and condensed milk or "canned cow" completed the repast. "wonder where the mex got all this food?" nort asked as he reached for the bread. "real good, anyhow. guess we'd better keep the greaser, if he'll stay." "keep him 'til we get settled," added dick. "i don't exactly like his looks. he's too much like the mex that joe hawkins pointed out--the one he said to watch out for--remember?--to suit me." "don't be tryin' to find trouble, dick," advised bud. "that mex is just as good as the next one. but it is funny why he should be lingering around here when all the rest lit out. and to have this food all ready for us. well----" "got a few suspicions up your own sleeve, eh?" laughed dick. "boys," billee said slowly, "i want to tell you something. you remember what your dad said about smugglin', bud?" at the word the men at the table gave a slight start. "yes, smugglin'. you'd forgot all about it, hadn't ye? well, i ain't. while we were in hawkins's office i noticed a bill-head on his desk. i took it. here it is." he passed over the paper to the kid. the others got up and leaned over the kid's shoulder, reading it. "two thousand dollars' reward," said the kid haltingly, "for the a-rest and con-viction of--the person whose picture is below, and who is known in new york as dapper dan craven. he is wanted for smuggling chinese. escaped custody at----" he stopped. his eyes sought the picture. "by the ghost of my aunt lizzy's cat!" he exclaimed. "if it ain't our friend delton!" bud reached over and slowly took the paper from the kid's nerveless hand. "delton!" he cried, as he saw the picture. "just as sure as i'm living, that's who it is!" "but why didn't hawkins arrest him, then?" nort asked in a puzzled tone of voice. "he knew where he was. he could have come out any time and put the bracelets on him and he'd have his man." "now, boys, if you'll give me a little time, i'll--" started billee dobb in a calm voice. "go ahead!" "we're listenin'!" "well, in the first place, i don't think joe hawkins ever saw this delton. you know what a hard job we had gettin' to the ranch--i bet if we had had hawkins with us we would have had to fight our way in. that's what that guard was out for--the one that tried to stop us. he knew we weren't deputies, so he let us go through. "also, that bill was just printed and sent to hawkins. perhaps he didn't have time to look at it. and say--that accounts for delton's quick get-away, too. one of his men rode in an' told him that there was a price on him, and he got, fast. he must have made this ranch his headquarters. no wonder he didn't have no sheep around! boys, we can expect some right excitin' things to happen, in the next few weeks!" silence followed billee's long speech. the veteran rancher had thrown a veritable bombshell into camp. delton--the man lying asleep upstairs--the head of the smugglers! two thousand dollars' reward! why, all they had to do was to tie him up and carry him to town--over to the deputy's house. capturing the smuggling king the first night at the shooting star! it seemed too good to be true. "there's a catch in it somewhere," commented dick. "no man with a reward like that on his head is going to dump himself into our hands." "why not? it wasn't his fault. he came sneakin' around the place to spy on us and got caught by the cyclone. then a board or something hit him on the head and he fell where we found him. nothing strange about that! we got him and got him good! wow, what can't we do with two thousand dollars!" "there's one thing we forgot, boys," the kid broke in. "and what's that?" "we're downstairs, an' delton is upstairs." "that's soon fixed!" bud cried, as he sprang for the steps. "let's go, boys!" "take it easy!" cautioned the kid quickly. "what's the use of scarin' him? we'll just go up there and truss him up while he's asleep. won't hurt him. that cut on the head was all that ailed him. now, take your time!" the ranchers moved quietly toward the room in which they had left delton. as he reached the door, bud opened it slowly and peered in. not a sound. then he stuck his head in a bit further. still no action. in the darkness he could see the outline of the bed but faintly. softly he turned the covers down. farther--farther! then he let out a yell. "hey, come here! quick!" "what's the trouble?" the kid called as he entered the room. "he's gone! he beat it! look!" in the bed, molded into the shape of a man, were two pillows. delton had escaped, leaving the pillows in such a way as to make it appear that he was still in the bed. "here's a note!" bud cried. "he left it on one of the pillows. let's have that candle, dick." by the flickering spluttering light of the candle bud read aloud: "sorry i got to go so sudden, but this bed is too hard. i wouldn't sleep well. if you guys want a little advice, you'll move along out of this section. it ain't healthy. a word to the wise. j. d." chapter xi joe hawkins's visit "can you beat that!" nort ejaculated when bud finished reading. "nerve--that delton certainly has his share of it!" the feeling which the note aroused was not just one of disappointment. the kid seemed highly amused at the turn events had taken. billee dobb assumed an "i-told-you-so" expression which sat comically on his grizzled features. the rest looked slightly bewildered. "got away, didn't he?" dick asked in a flat tone of voice. "through the window, i guess. yep. slid down the rain water leader. well----" "an' he took with him your wireless and your new bunch of cattle," the kid remarked sardonically. "never count the chickens before they scratch. mr. delton is a slicker article than we figgered on." "let's see the note a minute, bud," nort said. "huh--'bed too hard--couldn't sleep!' wise sort of a bird; isn't he? say, he must have written this as soon as we left the room." "why?" "because if he waited too long he couldn't have seen to write--too dark. that means he's far away by this time. he probably----" "the horses! ten to one he grabbed one of them an' beat it!" yellin' kid cried. without further parley the boys and men filed from the room and made for the corral. the horses had been tied to a pole nearest the house, and they were not long in reaching them. they could be easily seen in the moonlight which now flooded the prairie. "mine's there!" bud yelled as he came within view of the animals. "guess you're wrong, kid. seems like there's--no there isn't, either! only four! whose mount is missing?" "you might know it," the kid said disgustedly. "the coot took mine--out of all that bunch to pick from, he had to rustle my new bronc! by golly, if ever i set eyes on you again, you old----" "take it easy!" laughed bud. "could be a lot worse. he might have turned the rest of 'em loose, too." "no use beefin' about it," said billee dobb. "all over now. he's gone--an' so's the kid's bronc. talk about it in the morning. me, i'm tired!" the night passed uneventfully. at sun-up the kid appeared at the door of bud's room and grinned in at him. "ready for work?" he cried. "you mean trailin' your horse, kid?" bud asked mischievously. the grin left yellin' kid's face and his eyes flashed. "no," he said shortly. "i'll leave that for later. when i got some time on my hands that i want to use up in enjoyment. then i'll go after your friend delton." "he's no friend of mine," retorted bud. "but let's not chop about it until after breakfast, anyway. think that mexican cook is on the job?" "heard him movin' around a while ago, bud. let's go down an' see. billee is downstairs, and i guess nort an' dick are too." when they reached the dining room they found the others waiting for them. "sleep good, boys?" dick asked. "sure did. felt like i'd never wake up. say, steak this morning!" nort cried as he saw the table loaded with food. "we got _some_ cook here!" "don't it strike you all kind 'a funny that the mex has got so much stuff on hand?" billee dobb wanted to know. "course it _might_ be that this delton feller had just stocked up before we came. hey, mex!" he yelled into the kitchen. "_aqui_! _pronto_!" the mexican strolled calmly to where the five sat waiting. "where you get all this?" billee pointed to the plates of meat. the mexican shrugged his shoulders and motioned toward the kitchen. "boss leave it here?" another shrug. "now listen, mex. you know what i mean. you nod or shake your head when i ask you questions." yellin' kid walked over and stood before the mexican. "first, did you work for this guy delton?" a nod. "then when he beat it, you stayed here, hey?" a nod. "why?" "he can't answer that with his head, kid," nort broke in. "i know it, but maybe he can tell us by motions. hey? why you no go with delton?" the mexican pointed toward himself, then to the kitchen. his hands simulated the job of peeling potatoes. then he flung both arms wide, and moved his head in a semi-circle, eyes opened as though he were looking for something. "so he went when you were in the kitchen, hey, an' didn't say nothin' about it. well, that sounds logical." "kid, for pete's sake, let's eat!" bud interrupted. "you did fine--give you a badge as a special detective. all right, mex, outside. gee, you certainly are curious, kid!" "i just want to know a few things, that's all," yellin' kid protested. "i don't want to get poisoned. can't tell who that mex is--for all we know he may be one of delton's men left here to watch us." "say, i was thinking the same thing," dick put in. "but his graphic explanation as to why he's here seems to be at least plausible. if, as billee suggested, delton cut out when he found there was a price on his head it doesn't seem reasonable that he'd bother taking the cook along. how about it, billee?" "ain't makin' no statements," the veteran rancher replied slowly. "want to think things out a few minutes first." "billee's going to solve the great mystery for us!" nort laughed. "never you mind, ole horse, you knew your stuff when you grabbed that bill-head from hawkins's office. the trouble with us was, we were too slow." the conversation hit on the topics of the night before as the ranchers made a healthy breakfast. when they had satisfied their hunger bud leaned back in his chair and said: "well, what's on the program this morning, kid? beckon you better take charge for a while. then dick can be head boss, and so on--'til we get the sheep in. o. k.?" "all right with me, bud," the kid agreed. "one of us wants to take a ride into town and see about gettin' hold of a sheep-man. i got to get me a pony, too." "i'll go," offered nort. "think i'll look up hawkins. he might like to know what happened." the five walked slowly into the yard. the meal seemed to change their ideas, and set them quietly to thinking. bud was leaning against the side of the ranch house. the kid strolled over to the corral and looked longingly at the four horses tethered there. billee dobb was seated on the steps smoking his pipe, when he noticed a cloud of dust in the distance. "rider," he said, more to himself than to the others. "got a hunch who it is." the dust cloud grew quickly nearer, and from it emerged the figure of a man on horseback. "someone coming," dick called. "who is it?" bud asked. from where he stood he was unable to see. "don't know yet. looks familiar, though. here he comes." "it's joe hawkins!" exclaimed bud, as the horseman rode into view. "hi, joe--mr. hawkins, i mean." "joe'll do, son," the deputy said with a smile as he dismounted. "looks like you was havin' a convention here." "just thinking things over," the kid, who had walked up, explained. "glad you came, mr. hawkins." "thought that was you," billee dobb said, rising to his feet and removing the pipe from his mouth. "seen you way off, and says to myself, bet that's joe hawkins." "you got good eyes," laughed the deputy. "oh, it wasn't exactly my eyes. i had a hunch." "billee dobb is our official detective," bud said with a grin. "tell him about the hand-bill you copped, billee." explanations were in order, and with continuous interruptions the deputy finally heard the story of the cyclone and what followed. he questioned the boys as to the appearance and talk of delton, and at last confessed that he must be the man wanted. "though i didn't think they knew just who he was," hawkins added. "all i knew was that the reward of two thousand was for the head of the smuggling system. so they got him spotted, have they? that means we won't have to work in the dark. it's a wonder the central office wouldn't give a man the whole story when they're about it, instead of lettin' it trickle through. well, boys, it's time you knew what this smuggling is all about, hey?" chapter xii the story of smuggling "between this country and mexico," began the deputy, "there's a strip of land called the border--on one side u. s., and on the other greaser-land. you know all about that. across this border run several roads--passages into and from mexico. and each of these roads is patroled by united states officers. "these men are placed there for a purpose, and one purpose among others is to prevent the illegal sending into the states of chinamen. you see only so many foreigners from each nation are allowed to settle in the united states each year, and once that quota is reached, no more will be admitted. naturally there are always men who want to come to the "land of plenty" and make their fortunes, but unless these men are within the quota for that year, they are forbidden to enter. all chinese are forbidden entry and have been for several years. "but there are ways and means of getting around that situation. suppose a chinaman wants to become rich. the first thing he thinks about is america. all he has to do in america, he thinks, is to bend over and pick up the gold pieces that are lying in heaps all over the streets. "so the chinaman makes up his mind to come to america. he goes to foy lee, a slick friend of his, to find out about it. foy lee says 'good thing you see me. sure. i fix you up. easy. you want go america? all light. can do. you got fifteen hundred dollah?' now where would a poor chink get fifteen hundred dollars? he tells foy lee there ain't that much money in the world. so foy lee starts thinkin'. he rubs the top of his head, blinks his eyes, and grunts twice. then he says, 'you still want go america?' 'sure!' our chink answers. 'all light,' says foy lee. 'you come with me.' the rascal knows all the time what to do, only he wants to make it seem hard, so he can get his little rake off. "foy lee takes his friend to an office over on a side street in some chinese city. there he meets a man who guarantees him passage to u. s. if the chink will just sign the paper. that's all--no money nor nuthin'--only sign the paper an' he gets to america. what is the paper? oh, just a promise that the chink will pay the company that's sending him all his future wages--less enough for food--until fifteen hundred dollars have been paid. just a mere matter of slavery, that's what it amounts to. "but the chink signs. what's fifteen hundred in the land of 'plenty dollah?' now our chink is put on a vessel bound for mexico. there he is met by an agent of the same company that put him on board in china. "this agent takes him to a town, near the border--say presidio, or some such place. then the real fun begins. the company notifies their man at headquarters that the chink has arrived and is ready to be shipped across the border. headquarters looks up the chink's bond that he signed in china, and which has been received through the mail, and sends back word that everything is o. k., that the chink, with several others, is to be handed to a smuggler at a certain spot, to be smuggled over the border. and when the chink is so delivered the company's part ends. "after this the chink's fate is in the hands of the smugglers, and if they get caught, and the poor coot is sent back to china again by the emigration authorities, he's still got to pay that fifteen hundred, although all he got for his money was a long ride and hard treatment. "the border runners take their consignment of chinese and either pack them in the back of an auto or wagon, or arrange to smuggle them across some other way. if they're lucky, they get through. if not they get hauled up by the border officers, and the runners get jail and the chinks are sent back to their native land. and even if they do get through the lines the chinks' troubles aren't over, for at any time they're liable to be pulled in for not having what they call a 'chock gee,' which is a government paper signifying they are here lawfully and not by smuggling. i told you about that before. "and that's how the game works. these smugglers get hold of a ranch near the border so they can hide their chinks when they get them across, until the time is set to turn them loose. 'course i can't say that's what this place has been used for. but it would be great for it." the narrator paused and the boy ranchers drew long breaths of excitement. "well, boys, what do you think about it?" the tall deputy looked from one to the other. he was prepared for a deluge of questions, and they came. "can't the chinese counterfeit this 'chock gee'?" "who gets the fifteen hundred dollars?" "has that smuggling been going on here--near the shooting star?" "cease firing!" the deputy laughed. "i'll answer bud's question first. yes, it _has_ been going on here--right past roaring river. that's how our marshal got shot up--tryin' to stop a load of chinks from gettin' through. "that fifteen hundred, dick, is divided between the men who actually do the running, and the company that ships the chinks to mexico. the smugglers get about five hundred a head for every man they get in. the 'chock gee' is often counterfeited, but not very successfully. it's printed like a government bank bill, and is just as hard to fake." for some time the discussion about smuggling went on. the deputy told of the different tricks resorted to by the border runners in getting their human cargo safely into the united states, and to what lengths they will go to prevent capture. boats are also used to transport the chinese to the american seacoast, hawkins said, and if, by chance, the runners were caught with a load of prospective undesirable americans they got out of the difficulty by the simple expedient of dumping the chinese into the sea. another method of transportation was for the smugglers to put off in a small craft from a mexican port, with a cargo of barrels and chinese. when the boat neared the united states coast the chinese would be nailed in the barrels and thrown overboard, to trust to the mercies of fate to bring them ashore. often the wind blows in an offshore direction, which spells death to the floating chinese; weeks later they are found dead, when the barrels pile up on some distant coast. this system of sneaking chinese into this country was well established, said hawkins, and the smugglers make use of scouts in small cars before they attempt to bring a load of chinese across the line. these scouts ride swiftly along the route of the proposed entry, and locate, definitely, the position of each border patrol, so that when the run is actually made the driver of the car filled with chinese knows the spots to avoid. of course the boy ranchers were chiefly interested in the part their new shooting star property might have played in this game of smuggling. "and the fellow that lived here is the local head of that system!" bud exclaimed. "say, we let a rare bird go when he escaped." "we've still got a chance to get him," dick declared. "he must be around somewhere. that note--you saw the note we found, didn't you, mr. hawkins?--well, that indicated we might look for another visit from the coot. the kid will be glad to see him, eh, kid?" "an' i don't mean maybe!" yellin' kid exploded. "stealin' the best bronc i ever had--just when i was gettin' him broken in proper--an' me away out here in the wilderness with nothin' to ride----" "i'll get you a pony," the deputy offered. "there's one i know of that's a beaut--fast and strong. friend of mine wants to sell her." "i'd be sure grateful if you'd do that, mister. it sort of hits me hard, losin' a good bronc like that." "it wasn't your fault, kid," bud hastened to say. "and dad will insist on buying you another. so if mr. hawkins knows of one that will suit you, take it. you'll fix him up with a horse then, mr. hawkins?" "depend on it," the tall deputy declared. "now to business. i've told you boys all i knew about the way smuggling is being done around here, but i didn't do it just to be interestin'. i want you-all to help me." "sure!" "that's what we're here for!" "no, we're not, kid," bud corrected. "we're here to herd sheep. but we'll certainly help mr. hawkins all we can." "here's the dope, boys," and the deputy leaned closer. "this delton may or may not have been doin' business here at the ranch. if he has been, an' i'm goin' to figger that way, his friends still expect him to be here. he left in too much of a hurry to send out word. an' here's where you-all come in. "i want you to pretend the ranch hasn't changed hands. just lay low for a while, not travelin' 'round much, an' we'll see what happens. i don't mind tellin' you we got another tip, that some chinks were goin' to be rushed across within the next few days. can't say just when, but soon now. it's a big load this time, an' if things work the way i think they will, they'll try to land them at this ranch." "you mean they'll think delton is still here?" nort inquired excitedly. "yes. of course i may be wrong--that may not be the plans at all. but i've got pretty good reasons for thinkin' i'm right. we sort of suspected that the shootin' star was bein' used for illegal purposes, but we never had a chance to prove it. the place was too well guarded, and without a warrant you can't go on another's property. i knew we'd not find anything if we did search the place, for the chinks are only landed at night, and shipped away the next morning; scattered all over the country. they all look so much alike it's hard to tell 'em apart." "so you never really saw delton?" asked nort. "nope--never have. he never came to town--whatever stuff he wanted he sent his men in for." "told you!" billee dobb cried. "i knew he never saw the geezer! just like i said--nobody was allowed in here with a badge on." "right again," the kid said with a grin. "billee's the only one of this gang that seems to know his stuff." "well, that's the plan, boys," stated mr. hawkins. "are you with me?" "you bet!" "bring on the smugglers!" "kid, here's your chance to find out what became of your shirt!" "wait!" the deputy held up his hand. "we can't go into this thing like that, boys! it's too dangerous. enough men have been killed now by the smugglers, and i don't want to add to the list. i thought a long time before i came over this morning, and i finally decided i'd take a chance on you. when i met you first i knew you were dependable men. remember--this is no joke! we've got to be ready to take what comes!" the faces of the boys sobered in an instant. "i guess you'll find you weren't far wrong," bud said quietly. "we've been in a few tight squeezes before--i suppose you heard of del pinzo?" "certainly. he was captured and jailed a while ago. don't know whether he got out since or not." "well, we are the ones who put him there," bud went on in a quiet tone. "no! why say,--i remember you now! i saw you bring him in! well, well! so that's the way of things! boys, i'm sure glad i met you! between us we ought to make a go of this. so you captured del pinzo! now here's another job for you. what do you think of this idea?" the boys leaned close as they prepared to hear the deputy's plan. chapter xiii trapped for some minutes the boys listened to the details of the deputy's scheme. it involved danger, there was no doubt of that, but it also gave a chance for success. if luck held in their favor--and kid said after the run of misfortune they had met with it was time for a change of weather--they might hope for a rich prize--possibly delton himself--though this last did not seem likely. the whole success of the plan depended on fooling the smugglers into thinking the ranch was still held by delton. "and there we are," finished hawkins. "any questions, boys? you-all know what to do?" "all set!" yellin' kid answered. "now that's over with, guess i'll mosey down to town." "rather you stayed around, kid, if you don't mind," said the deputy. "anything particular you wanted?" "well, just to see about that bronc you mentioned. and we got to get hold of a sheepman soon." "i'll fix that up for you," hawkins offered. "dick, how about you riding back with me?" "glad to, mr. hawkins. anybody want anything?" "better find out about food," suggested nort. "and we could all stand a clean shirt or two. before you go, dick, we all better take inventory. didn't bring much, you know. what do you say, boys? speak up, and dick can collect your stuff while he's in town." "where's that mex?" the kid asked. "wait a minute while i head for the kitchen." he bounded up the steps and flung open the door. to his surprise a figure stumbled away and ran back. but yellin' kid was faster, and in a moment he had collared the man. it was the mexican cook. "hey, what the mischief you doin' here? huh? listening weren't you?" the mexican shook his head. "what, then? if you weren't listenin' what were you doin'?" the cook pointed toward the kitchen and then to his mouth. he spread both hands, palms upward. "no more grub? oh, i see. an' you was comin' to tell us?" "what's the matter, kid?" the deputy called. "who you talking to?" the kid dragged the mexican out into the yard. "this bird," he said. "cook. the one we found here. he was hidin' behind the door--wants me to believe he came out to tell us there was no more eats. why you run, hey? what's the idea of that?" he tightened his grip on the mexican's collar. "oh, let the poor greaser alone, kid," bud objected. "he's all right. just scared, that's all. the way you jerked open the door was enough to scare anyone." "yea? maybe. anyway, i don't like this coot's looks. back you go, mex. next time don't be snoopin' around like that. we'll get your stuff for you." he released his grasp, and the mexican slunk back into the house. "funny gink," commented billee dobb in a drawling tone of voice, as he stared at the door through which the cook had disappeared. "queerest mex i ever saw." "the old detective still on the job," the kid laughed and grinned. "well, mr. hawkins wants to get started. guess you can order a whole stock of food, dick. the store got a buckboard, deputy?" "believe it has." "then you can tell 'em what you want and they'll cart it over. flour, bacon, bakin' powder, canned tomatoes, some yellow clings--don't forget them, dick--and whatever else you can think of. shirts can wait. all right, boys. stay here, dick, i'll bring your bronc." "the kid wants to handle a pony again," nort said, when the kid had left. "he hated to lose that one of his." "mighty fond of it," declared bud. "while you're gone, dick, i think i'll take a look around and see what i can find." "wouldn't go too far," hawkins cautioned. "here's your bronc, dick. let's be on our way. see you fellers later. so long." the two--dick and the deputy--rode toward the town. billee dobb resumed the smoking of his pipe. the effect of the exciting plan they had just heard seemed to have departed with the deputy, for the minds of those at the ranch turned again to the business of sheep farming. billee spoke of "washes," and "dips," and of buying a few "hurdles." these terms were greek to the boys, being experienced as they were only in cattle and not sheep raising, but billee explained to them some of the peculiarities of the "woolies." he in a varied career had seen most of the life of the range, and it was no surprise to the boys to find he had once herded sheep. as the morning wore on, the ranchers busied themselves in the doing of many tasks about the place. the kid made a thorough inspection of the roofs and sides of the several shacks, to check up on the repairing needed. nort investigated the state of their living quarters--the bunk and cook house. bud decided to ride a bit through the surrounding country, to observe the extent of their range, and to see to the fences. bud was not exactly "fence riding." this means following the fence until a break is seen, repairing it, and going on to the next break. it is difficult and tiresome work, no task to occupy an idle morning with. as bud rode along, his mind was busy with the thoughts of all that had happened in the short time the boys had been on the shooting star. the plan that the deputy had outlined for the capture of the smugglers called for work, and it had only a fair chance of success. nevertheless there seemed no other way to achieve results, and the advantages of the control of the shooting star had to be realized early in the game. "i'd like to run across delton," thought bud, feeling unconsciously for his gun. his hand encountered no holster, and he suddenly realized that he had not bothered to arm himself before starting out. "just as well that i don't see delton," he said to himself a trifle ruefully. "wouldn't do me a lot of good to meet him when i haven't a ghost of a show of bringing him in. yet i might take a chance on him if i saw him first." the pony he was riding stepped carefully so as to avoid prairie dog holes, which would throw him and his rider if he stepped in one suddenly. "might be a good idea to turn around," thought bud aloud. "don't want to leave the work of the ranch to nort and the kid and billee, though there isn't an awful lot to do yet. when those sheep come in we'll have our hands full. oh, well, guess i'll ride a bit farther. see how much more work this fence needs." he was riding slowly now, looking carefully about him. the country appeared vaguely familiar. certain bushes looked as though he had seen them before--there was a small tree that he had certainly passed some time before. the cowboy's sight is so trained by years on the prairie that even the shape of a bush will be remembered subconsciously. there is so much land in the west that it is necessary to have some means to guide oneself about, else a rider could very easily get lost along a trail that should be familiar. "seems to me i've been here before," bud said. "let's see now--that bush. know i saw that sometime. that little hill there--why--i'll bet that is--" he spurred his mount to a faster gait and made for a small knoll that rose in front of him. as he reached it he gave a yell. "i know now! this is where we got in that fight with the hidden gunman! and over there ought to be--sure enough! the water hole! i didn't think we were so near it. i must have come further than i thought. well--might as well take a look around. right here is where the bird that did all the shooting must have lain. come here, bronc!" the boy dismounted and slipped his horse's bridle rein on his wrist. then he threw himself down on the sand in the position their antagonist might have taken when he fired at them. "here i am with a view of the water hole, and in a good place to shoot from without being shot. now i want to get away quick. what do i do? if i roll to the left, i expose myself to fire. if i roll to the right, i--" there was a little clump of mesquite by his right elbow. bud pulled himself toward this. "that would afford protection, but once i get in here how can i get out? now--" the boy was rolling to the center. with a "hold it, bronc!" he released the reins and his hand slid off the clump. suddenly a queer thing happened. bud felt the ground below him give way, and the next moment he found himself in a hole just large enough to admit his body, and about four feet deep. above him the bushes had closed again, effectively screening him from the view of anyone above ground. he had accidentally solved the mystery of the gunman's strange disappearance. for a few seconds bud lay still, so sudden was the shock of the fall. he was not really stunned, however, and as soon as he recovered from his surprise he struggled to his feet and parted the brush above him. his horse was near by, moving slowly and cropping grass. then he saw how easily it would be to escape observation by falling into the small pit. the bush was certainly not large enough to conceal a man, and for this reason no one would imagine it could serve to screen a hole. it afforded a perfect hiding place. on either side was flat prairie, and no one would suspect the presence of a hidden person in that country. "so that's how it all happened!" bud gave a low whistle. "no wonder we missed the fellow. say, this is one bird of a hiding place! all a man has to do is to roll in it, like i did. anyone who can tell this hole is here without being in it is a better detective than i am. "but what a crazy spot for a hiding place! surely whoever dug it didn't know he'd use it to fire on us and then escape. must have been some other reason for making it, and then it came in handy when whoever shot at us wanted to get away. he must have just lain quiet while we looked around, then, when we left, he just came out and walked away. clever, all right. now who'd think of a stunt like that?" he looked more closely at the hole. it was well walled up, and had evidently been dug some time ago. by parting the bushes and kneeling on a mound of earth at the bottom, a perfect sight of the surrounding territory could be obtained. a gun could be poked through the bush and all the ground, except a very small part directly in front of the hill, would be covered. the person who dug it evidently had in mind the advantages of firing from a hidden spot. "well, no use in staying in here any longer. hope that fool bronc of mine is still there. don't want to lose her like the kid did his. won't the rest be surprised when i tell them about this! the kid will want to come right out and see it, and try it out. and billee dobb will say 'i thought there was sumpin' like this!' gosh, this thing is pretty deep." bud put both hands on the sides and pulled himself toward the top. he threw one leg over the edge and was just about to spring out when that unconscious something which often warns us of the presence of another caused him to look up. what he saw almost caused him to fall back into the pit again. looking down at him was a man. in his hand he held a gun, the muzzle pointed at bud's head. and as the boy saw the man's face he uttered a cry. "delton!" "the same! i see you decided to visit us. well, buddy, you're in for a good long visit!" delton's lips curled in a sardonic smile. chapter xiv to-morrow night back of delton bud saw another man--and after a moment he recognized him as the cowboy with the saw-off shot-gun who had warned them away from the shooting star. "up out of that!" delton commanded. "keep your hands high. don't try no funny work or you'll be eatin' breakfast with st. peter." discretion was easily the better part of valor, and, realizing this, bud made no hostile motion. he climbed meekly out of the pit. "what do you think of our little hide-an'-seek hole, merkel? or perhaps you had some experience with it before. hey?" "so you're the one who shot at us!" bud cried hotly. "well, let me tell you that it was a coward's trick. if you----" "say, buddy, i want to tell _you_ something. the less you talk the better it will be for you." delton's eyes held a dangerous glint. "i don't know what you're talking about. no--never mind! don't answer me. sam--" this to the puncher who stood behind delton--"if this bird says another word shut him up--quick!" sam nodded and stepped a little forward. "turn around," delton ordered shortly. as bud turned he felt his arms grabbed and forced back until his wrists were held firmly together. a neckerchief was wound around his wrists and tied tightly. then delton "frisked" him, or searched him, for weapons. finding none he forced bud at the point of his gun to walk ahead some fifteen yards, where the ponies stood--bud's and the two others. "upstairs, merkel." delton motioned toward bud's pony. "you're goin' for a little ride with us. step on it, now." with some difficulty bud succeeded in mounting his bronco. the little pony was trembling, as though it realized something of what was going on. "well, sonny, how does it feel to be talked to and not be able to talk back? something like that mexican cook of yours, hey?" "the mexican cook!" bud turned swiftly in his saddle. "so he's one of your men too! i thought--" he began hotly. "you thought nothin'!" the one called sam interrupted in a rough voice. "you heard what the boss said. if you want to enjoy good health a while longer, keep your mouth shut!" there was nothing for it but to obey. it would do no good to persist in questioning his captors, and not only would he learn nothing, but the questions would only serve to antagonize them more. the three rode along silently. now and then bud would shift in the saddle, for it is no easy thing to ride a long ways on a nervous pony with one's hands tied behind. finally they seemed to reach their destination--the house bud had seen in the distance. it was a ramshackle affair, with the roof partly torn away and no vestige of paint. evidently it had once been used for a farm house, for about it were several other shacks, probably to store grain in. delton dismounted and held the bridle of bud's pony. "your new home," he said, with a grin. "come right in. sorry we can't fix you up better, but you see all the servants are away." the lad hesitated a moment. "off you come!" delton seized bud by the belt and pulled. the boy tumbled off his pony and hit the ground. "that wasn't--necessary!" the boy panted, as he lay there with most of the breath knocked out of him. luckily he had fallen on his side, and not on his face, which would have meant a real injury, his hands tied as they were. "maybe not, but i figger it'll do you good. give you an appetite for dinner," and delton laughed harshly. "where i come from we treat 'em worse than that." "aw, let him alone," sam growled. "no use hurtin' the kid! that won't help us any. if we get caught it won't be so good havin' a lot of enemies." "who said we were goin' to get caught?" delton walked over to where sam sat on his pony. "sam, i haven't liked your actions lately. now you yell about getting caught. you know what happened to that last bird who arranged for me to meet up with the cops?" "yea, i know." sam moved uneasily in his saddle. he did not meet delton's eyes. "you don't think i'd tell on you, do ya--an' get twenty years myself? ain't likely. anyway----" "all right! pipe down. get this kid inside. i want to see if slim got back yet." "come on, kid. here, i'll help you up. hurt yourself?" sam had dismounted and assisted bud to his feet. "no, i didn't. thanks. what was his idea in pulling me off like that? if ever i get him i'll remember it." "oh, he always pulls stunts like that. wants everybody to know he's a hard guy. comes from new york, and thinks he can put it all over the west. one thing i will say for him, he sure can shoot. that's enough, now." sam's tone changed, and a warning light came into his eyes. "i ain't paid to talk to you. let's go," he growled. he led bud up the steps and into the house. the shades were pulled down tight, and the gloom made it very difficult for bud to see much. he noticed some sort of a hat-tree in the hall, and as they walked toward the back he saw the doors of several rooms which opened off the lower hall. into one of these sam led his captive. "here's where you stay," he said. "no use tryin' to get out, for the windows are barred. and that door is oak. here--" and sam struggled with the knot which bound bud's wrists behind his back. "make you feel a little comfortable, anyhow. you can't do much without a gun. there's water in that pitcher. i'll try to sneak you in some bread about noon." without another word sam stepped out of the room and closed the door. bud heard a key grate in the lock, and then a bolt shot home. "taking no chances," he thought. "my, it feels good to get my arms free!" he stretched lustily. "wonder where on earth i am? let's take a look at those windows. bars, hey?" he pulled the shade aside. surely enough on the outside were several iron bars, making the room a veritable jail. "they sure got me penned up here proper! now why did they go to all this trouble? just because i found that pit by the water hole? "that doesn't seem reasonable. must want me for something besides that. guess i'll know soon enough. in the meantime i'll take a look around. water! that's right--i am thirsty. funny how you forget that when you're excited." bud was talking to himself now. there are people who seem to be able to puzzle things out better if the problem is put into words than if they just revolve it over in their minds. bud was one of these, and as he investigated his prison he kept talking in a low tone to himself. with the shades up he was able to get a better view of the room. it was small, and had only that one window in it. the furniture consisted of a chair and a table. the floor was bare. the walls were painted a dull gray. bud pushed experimentally against one of the sides, but to no purpose. it was as solid as iron. there was one more thing to be tried, that was the door. bud was reconciled to spending at least the morning within the room, and it made very little difference to him whether the door was of oak, as "sam" had said, or some softer wood. however, he thought, he might as well take a crack at it. try anything once, he reasoned. he walked over and turned the knob softly. it refused to budge an inch. then bud applied more pressure. this time it turned slowly. hope rang in bud's heart as he felt the latch click back, then as he remembered hearing the door bolted his heart sank again. still he turned the knob as far as it would go, and pushed. the door opened about half an inch. then it stuck. bud's hand dropped from the knob, and he ran his fingers along the crack. half way up they encountered cold metal--a chain which allowed the door to open only a little, then held. bud seemed as securely fastened as though he had been unable to budge the door at all. then he thought it was possible the bolt worked on a slide, and if he could reach through the crack and ease it out of the slide, he would be free. "a knife would do the trick," he thought. "nothing like that around here. i wonder if my belt buckle would do?" he tried forcing it through the crack. "nope. not long enough. isn't there something about the room i could use? chair--that's no good. neither is the table. water pitcher--can't see what good that is. porcelain, i guess." he ran his hand over the pitcher. "yep. well, that doesn't seem to help. unless--" he hesitated. a thought struck him. "if i could break it and use a piece of it like a knife i'll bet i could scrape that bolt over! but how can i break it without making a racket and bringing delton and his gang rushing in?" bud thought a moment. then he snapped his fingers softly, and his eyes lit up. "i've got it!" he whispered. taking off his vest and shirt he wrapped the pitcher well in them, after pouring out the water. then he tapped it gently against the window-sill. it made almost no noise, so he hit it harder. after a few tries he felt it break. as he unwrapped his bundle of shattered porcelain he saw he had, luckily, broken a piece just the size he wanted. he replaced his shirt and vest and with the piece of pitcher in his hand he made once more for the door, this time with a real hope of escaping. "just the right length!" bud exalted as he slid the narrow knife-like porcelain through the crack in the door and against the bolt. then he started to coax the bolt from its slide. softly, softly he scraped against the iron, and to his delight felt it move ever so little. he could not open the door to its full extent in his endeavor to slip the bolt, for this would tighten the chain and hold the metal piece more firmly in its slide. he had to work with his left hand holding the door at the proper angle and his right hand using the piece of the water pitcher. it was tiresome work. several times bud halted as he heard footsteps in the hall outside, but they went on their way without stopping. the porcelain was rapidly wearing down. its edge had already become dulled, and no longer offered the purchase on the iron that it did at first. but finally bud succeeded--the bolt slid back. cautiously he tried the door. it opened! in obedience to bud's push, the door swung wide. for a moment the lad stood still, listening intently. the low murmur of voices came to his ears. "down the hall," he thought. "must be in that large room i passed coming in." he stepped gently forward. a board creaked under his foot, and froze him into instant stillness. the murmur of voices droned on, and once more bud moved forward. down the hall he tip-toed. nearer and nearer to the room wherein the men were talking he came. now he was directly opposite. the door was tightly closed, but he could make out the conversation distinctly. "a cinch!" he heard someone say. "there's nothing to it! even if jake doesn't know about the shooting star, he can run the bunch through all right. and the sooner the better." "you know when the run is planned for?" someone asked. "sure! and i think we'll be lucky on the weather. looks like rain to me." "well, i hope so. it's all set for to-morrow night, then?" "check! all set. to-morrow night it is." outside bud was listening intently, his heart thumping in his breast. chapter xv billee dobb's story back at the shooting star ranch the three others, nort, billee dobb and yellin' kid, were occupying themselves with the business of the day. the kid having reported on the condition of the "shacks," nort decided that a new bunk house would be necessary before the shearing season to accommodate the extra men. he and yellin' kid, together with billee dobb, then lazed about the place, awaiting the return of dick and bud. it was eleven o'clock before dick came riding into the yard. "bring any grub back with you?" "no. the store said the buckboard would be right over, almost as soon as i got here. is the kitchen all cleaned out?" "pretty near, i guess. that's what the mex meant when i caught him at the door. gee, i wish----" he was interrupted by a rattling and creaking, and the sound of horses beating a fast tattoo on the hard earth. above this bedlam arose the sound of a voice in loud and vigorous denunciation. "here she comes!" nort cried. "the food! say, that team must have been stepping right along. got here almost as soon as you did, dick." with a final roar and crash of wooden timbers, and a last invocation to: "hold up there, you two wildcats, or i'll bust you wide open," the cart drew up to the ranch house door. from its swaying side the driver, a grinning youth in a blue shirt and red bandanna 'kerchief about his neck, climbed down. "get here in time?" he called. "sure had these here babies rollin' right along." then without even a halt for breath he went on: "what do you think of this here team? best pair of ponies in the state! lean down, baby, 'til i smooth those ears of yours. down, i say! why, you spavin-boned piece of horse meat! come down here or i'll chew you up! throw your head back at me, will you? of all the knock-kneed, wall-eyed chunks of locoed craziness, you're the worst. pete, you pink-headed, glandered cayuse, drop that neck or i'll skin you alive. that's the stuff! best little pair of broncoes in the state, boys!" "you sure got some vocabulary!" laughed dick. "think a lot of your team, don't you--sometimes! yes, you got here in plenty of time." "bring them yellow clings?" the kid asked, anxiously. "yep! two dozen cans of the best yellow cling peaches. an' flour, bacon, an' all the rest. help me unload, boys." with five pairs of willing hands on the job, the wagon was quickly relieved of its load. the food was carried into the kitchen, and left there for the cook with an admonition to: "get busy, mex. we're starved!" "thanks for bringing the stuff over so promptly," dick said to the youthful driver. "you must have hit only the high spots to get here so quick." "should say i did! one time we left the ground and stayed up while a coyote ran under the whole length of the wagon. can't beat this here team of mine for speed. well, guess i'll be gettin' back. all set, ponies? don't strain yourselves, now. got plenty of time. just go along nice an' easy. yes, sir, boys, i love these animals like brothers! "get along there, pete. get along, i say. pete, you lop-eared wangdoddle! quit draggin' that other bronc around! hear me? dodgast your hide, i'll blow your fool head right off your worthless carcass if you don't quit that. you will, will you? how do you like the feel of that? now we're off! at-a-baby, get goin'! so long, boys! you, pete! gosh darn your senseless hide, i'll--" the rest was lost. "he loves 'em like brothers!" shouted the kid, holding his sides with laughter. "oh, boy! 'take your time, ponies!' sure, they'll take their time! bet he's half way to roarin' river by now. wow, what a driver! ho-ho--i haven't had a laugh like this in years! 'don't strain yourselves!' oh, baby!" a cloud of dust marked the disappearance of the grinning youth with the "best pair of ponies in the state." he left behind him an appreciative audience. "hope that mex gets a wiggle on," nort said when the laughter had quieted down. "he ought to be able to rustle a pretty fair meal with all that junk." "and in the meantime we might as well sit," yellin' kid suggested. "look over the landscape." the punchers made their way to the corral. without explaining, each knew the kid's suggestion to "sit an' look over the landscape" meant a view from the top rail of the corral, which was several feet high. this is the cowboy's favorite resting place while waiting for "chuck." they will sit there and survey a perfectly familiar scene until called off by the cook's horn or the cry to "come an' git it." "bud ought to be back for grub," said dick as he swung his leg over the top rail. "ought to," nort agreed. "said he wasn't going far." "that might mean anything out here," billee dobb broke in, "from a two-mile jaunt to a ride of twenty mile or more. bud's o. k. though. if he don't show up fer his meals he's got a good reason." "you're probably right," dick said, "but with all this trouble around here i don't like to see anyone stay away too long. if he doesn't come in before afternoon we'll have to take a ride around and see if we can't spot him." "no use crossing bridges before we come to them," nort declared. "after all this talk bud will probably come riding in with a bear cub he chased. bud's funny that way. anything that's a bit out of the ordinary, and bud will go miles out of his way to see it. remember how he stared at that cyclone coming until he forgot where he was?" "i don't think he's so funny," the kid declared in a thoughtful tone. "just doesn't like to miss any of the show, that's all. me, i'm like that sometimes. a pretty sunset gets me here somehow," and the kid placed his hand on his stomach in a general way. "have you tried eating raw onions?" nort asked in a solicitous voice. "they say they're awful good." "aw, you guys make me sick," said yellin' kid disgustedly. "just as soon as a feller gets--well--poetical like--you hop all over him." "ex-cuse me, kid! i didn't know you were getting poetical. why, if i had known that i wouldn't have said a word. i thought you were telling us about your indigestion." "go ahead--go ahead! i'll get you sometime, nort. billee, do you think it's nice to run me around like that?" "do you good," billee said with a grin. "when i was young an' worked out with a bunch from two-bar cross--the roughest outfit you'd ever laid eyes on--i wasn't let to open my mouth without someone hoppin' down my throat. that was a gang, let me tell you!" "they were the old-fashioned punchers, weren't they?" dick asked, winking at the kid. "the kind that used a buck-strap and ate his coffee out of a frying-pan." "buck-strap! buck--say, boy, if any man on that there two-bar cross outfit ever heard you speak of a buck-strap they wouldn't know what you was talkin' about. no, sir! those boys were rough customers." a buck-strap is a leather thong fastened to the saddle in such a way that if the pony suddenly bucks, its rider can hold himself on by inserting his hand within this thong and pulling hard. the user of one of these contraptions is never proud of it, needless to say. "you used to work a lot in the summer, didn't you, billee?" the kid asked with a concealed grin. "yes, and in the winter, too. mostly in the winter. i remember one time----" "now he's off," the kid whispered in an aside to dick. "this'll be good." "i remember once when i was ridin' for the two-bar cross bunch an' we had four thousand head of cattle on the range. 'long about december, when the first snow starts, me an' joe heldig was sent out to see how the bunch was makin' out, and if they needed anything, one of us was to ride back an' tell the rest while the other watched. well, we set out about seven o'clock one morning to see if we could spot the herd. "it was clear an' cold when we started. not a cloud in the sky. thinks i, we're pretty lucky, havin' such fine weather; that late in the season, too. joe heldig, he don't say nothin'. we took with us our blankets, some sour-dough, coffee an' bacon, an' that fryin'-pan you was talking about, dick. we rode along easy like, not worryin' nor nothin', an' talkin' about the best way to skin a steer, an' whether it's best to split two pair on the draw to try for a flush. that used to be a trick of joe's. "around about noon it started to get warmer, an' off in the east a few white clouds showed up. me, i don't worry none, but i see joe lookin' kind of anxious now an' then. "we found the bunch at three o'clock, not as far out as we figgered they'd be. seemed pretty contented an' easy. had a good grazin' spot, too. an' just as we was about to call it a day i felt something wet drop on my nose. then another. joe looked at me an' i looked at him. snow! know what that means on the range? "well, there was nothin' for it but to stick around an' see how bad it was goin' to be. by five o'clock we knew. the flakes was comin' down so thick you couldn't see, and a wind had sprung up. an' joe an' me had a bunch of cattle on our hands. i told joe one of us better try to make the ranch and bring back enough men to get the cattle to a sheltered spot, so they wouldn't die. i knew we couldn't move them alone, and where they were grazin' it was all open. so joe started. he knew the general direction, an' what would be sure suicide for anyone else was just a chance for joe, havin' lived for twenty years right in that section. "i could easy keep track of the cows by their moanin'. it was real cold now, an' the poor bunch of beeves stood in the snow with their heads held low, with icicles hanging from their eyes, groanin' something pitiful. they never moved. just stood there while the snow drifted up around their haunches. what i was afraid of was a drift. not a drift of snow, but a drift of cattle. "i knew those steers would only stay still a certain length of time, then one of them would start movin' leaward, with the whole bunch followin'. and they'd march that way into the snow, until every blessed one of them dropped, and died where it fell. first the little calves. then the mothers, who'd stick by their babies until they died, too. then the cows of the herd who weren't so strong. an' last, some big, proud long-horn would drop in his tracks an' die. an' there wouldn't be nothin' left of the herd except dots in the snow along the path. that's what we call a drift. "i knew if they ever started driftin' i couldn't save them. i could try to turn them by rushin' my bronc into them, but it wouldn't do no good. it needs at least six men to do that job. an' even then, if they once get well started, i don't think they'd turn aside fer _nothin'_. so i just sat on my pony an' waited. the snow kept gettin' higher, and the wind colder an' colder. the cows were moanin' heavy now. i saw 'em shift once or twice, an' my heart went in my throat, but they settled down once more to just breathin' hard. how i did hope that joe made the ranch. i sort of felt that if help didn't come soon the drift would start. it takes so long for a cow to get the idea she wants to move, and when she gets the notion into her head, her legs start goin' themselves, an' keep goin' until something bigger and stronger than she is stops her. i knew that the only thing would stop this bunch, once they started, would be death. "all of a sudden the moanin' of the cattle grew louder. i rode up close to them an' saw what the reason was, and it made me catch my breath. a big cow was steppin' slowly out, head low, right into the gale. the drift had started. "i rode hard at the brute that was leadin'. she never paid no attention to me whatever. then i drew my gun and shot her, but the cow behind kept right on goin'. an' back of her the rest started movin'. unless something happened quick the show was over. "then i heard what i'd been hopin' an' prayin' for--a yell! through the screamin' of the wind i could hear joe's voice whoopin' it up, an' believe me, it was the most welcome sound i'd ever heard. the next minute the whole gang from the ranch, in a flyin' wedge, rode right into that bunch of long-horns, and split them wide open! "that saved them. they was scared out of the drift, an' we soon drove them down behind a hill, where the wind wouldn't get at them, and they could reach the grass through the snow. joe had made it just in time, though how he found the ranch in that storm is still a mystery, even to him." the boys on the rail sat silent for a moment. then out from the kitchen of the ranch house there came the blast of a horn. "grub!" yellin' kid shouted. "let's eat, boys!" chapter xvi bud's escape bud stood listening, with bated breath, to the conversation on the other side of the closed door. he heard the words "to-morrow night" and "all set" repeated several times. with his ears strained he leaned forward until his shoulder was almost touching the door. if they would only talk just a little bit louder---- suddenly bud lost his balance. he had been so tense that he had not realized how precarious his position was, the smallest noise being sure to alarm the occupants of the room. now his foot slipped, and, with a crash, he went headlong against the door! there was a quick scraping of chairs within, and voices raised in excited outcry. bud recoiled from the fall as fast as he might, and, springing down the hall, he made for the front door. by this time the plotters had emerged from the room and had seen bud in his wild sprint for safety. "grab him!" someone shouted. "get him, jack! he's been listening! jump on his neck!" "jump on him yourself! what's the matter, are you tied to the floor?" "never mind those wise-cracks!" came delton's voice. "out that door quick, and nab him!" bud had reached the porch, and looked desperately about him. where were the horses? a sudden neigh answered his thought, and he dashed around to the side of the house. the ponies were tethered to a rail not one hundred yards away. luckily bud's horse was among them. "all you've got, bronc! we're holding our own, anyway. gee!" a report sounded behind him and he heard the whine of a bullet. "they mean business, all right! on your way, pony!" the feet of his mount scarcely seemed to touch the ground, so fast did he travel. on and on they flew, keeping their distance and even gaining. "stick to it, old boy!" bud exhorted his bronco. "we're as good as they are, any day! can't last forever! wow!" another bullet sang through the air. "that was a close one. if i had a gun you wouldn't be so free with your lead. all i've got to depend on is what's under me. but you'll do, old boy, you'll do! step on it!" across the open prairie flew the chase, bud in the lead about five hundred yards. his pony was tiring now, the breath was coming in short gasps. bud consoled himself with the thought that his followers' mounts were probably in worse case. "just a little more, bronc!" he coaxed. "soon be home! at-a-baby--yo-yo-yo!" he kept in cadence with his pony's gallop, and it seemed to him that she responded with a further burst of speed. he looked back again. certainly he was increasing the distance between himself and his pursuers! they appeared a greater distance from him than when they had started. now the country they were passing through assumed a familiar aspect, but bud was too excited to notice it until he reached the water hole. "luck!" he exulted. "i headed in the right direction. don't think i'll be followed much beyond this. let's see--" he turned in his saddle. to his surprise there was no one in sight. "made it! bronc, old boy, i offer you my sincere thanks! no, don't slow down just yet. a little more--" he kept up his fast pace until he was well beyond the water hole, then, with a final look behind him, he pulled down to a walk. "guess we're o.k. now. what a chase! say, bronc, it's too bad we didn't have a movie camera somewhere around. hero being chased by the villains. bang--bang--another indian bit the dust! anyway, i'm glad we're out of _that_ mess. what was the idea of the whole thing, anyhow? "don't see what they wanted with me. and 'to-morrow night'! evidently they figure on some sort of dirty work. now that they know i've heard part of their plans they may not pull anything." off in the distance bud could now see the buildings of shooting star. as he rode up, the kid was nailing a board to the lower part of the ranch house, and had his back to bud. he turned swiftly as he heard the hoof-beats of bud's horse. "come in--come in!" he called. "have a good trip? how are all the babies--and aunt sarah? you must be plumb worn out, ridin' all the way from arken-saw on a hot day like this." "quit your kidding," bud answered with a smile. "when i tell you what did happen you'll think i have a good right to be worn out. first, though, is there any chuck left?" "what--they didn't even feed you? well now, i thought you'd had a chicken dinner. sure, bud, come on in, an' we'll get mex on the job." the best they could do in the culinary line on short notice was beans, but bud filled up mightily on them. when the edge had been taken off his hunger he asked the kid: "where's the rest of the bunch?" "town, most of 'em. billee dobb is at the back fixin' his saddle. nort and dick went on into town again after a load of grub came, to see if they could pick up that sheep-man hawkins told us about, and to grab me off a pony. where were you, bud?" "therein lies a tale," answered bud, "and i don't mean maybe. listen, kid, and try to control your well-known faculties for humor 'til i get this off my chest." in as few sentences as possible, bud related to yellin' kid the events of the morning. contrary to his expectations, his story was taken as it was told, seriously. "delton, hey? didn't see my missin' bronc around, i suppose?" "no, i didn't, kid. saw enough besides that. well, what's the dope? what do you think about it all?" "i think you were pretty lucky, for one thing," declared the kid. "another thing i think is that the plan they set for to-morrow night--whatever it is, will be carried out." "what makes you think that?" "didn't you say you heard someone talk about 'even if jake doesn't know about the shooting star'?" "yes--i did hear that." "well, that means they're going to take a chance on going through with their plan, because they can't get word to the other side that this place has changed hands. an' they won't stop because they caught you listenin'." "say, you might be right at that, kid. that's going some, though, to push things like that, when they know their plan has been overheard. of course i didn't actually hear it all, but i heard enough to know it has something to do with this ranch. and the time is to-morrow night." "that will hurry up the deputy's idea, won't it? if things break right, we might have a chance to collect that reward." "let's not think about that now. what we have to do is to get hold of the rest and tell them what happened, and ask mr. hawkins if this will change his plan. he's in town, isn't he?" "should be. dick'll know--he rode in with him." "say, kid, before i forget it--i heard something that didn't sound so good about that mexican cook of ours. delton let slip the hint that he was one of his men--didn't exactly say that, but he led me to believe he was." "did, hey? well, i've been kind of suspicious of that greaser ever since we found him here alone, when the rest had beat it. don't seem reasonable that one man would stay at a ranch that has been cleaned out, unless he had some business there. delton's idea may have been to let him stay and spy on us. think we ought to kick him out?" "that means we've got to find another cook. no, i think it will be all right to let him stay if we watch him carefully. he sure is one peach of a cook--i'll say that for him--and i don't think he'd deliberately try to poison us." "oh, i'm not afraid of that. of course we could make him taste each dish he cooks for us, like they do in stories, but he'd sure suspect something then. i believe in keeping a secret to yourself." "you mean not letting him know we suspect him?" "yep! that's it. we can watch him if he doesn't know he's bein' watched, but as soon as he knows we got something on him, we're through." "you're right about that, kid. say, where did you say the others were?" "in town. ought to be back soon, though. billee dobb is around some place in back. want to see him?" "no, i'll wait till nort and dick get here and spill it all at once. let's go out." the two arose and walked toward the yard. as they passed through the door the kid looked sharply about him, but the mexican cook was nowhere in sight. his lesson had been learned when the kid had caught him listening before. they hadn't long to wait before they heard the approach of two riders. dick and nort had returned. "something happened," nort exclaimed after he had dismounted. "how do you know?" bud asked with wide-open eyes. "i mean to us. why, did something happen to you, too?" "i'll tell you about it in a minute. let's hear your story first." "not much of a story," dick said. "we saw delton." "you did! where?" "you remember that water hole the kid found the chinaman at?" "yes--go ahead!" "well, nort and i decided to take another look at it on our second trip back from town, so we rode over. it isn't so far from here. and as we reached it--only about an hour ago--we saw a group of men talking. we rode up easy, but they heard us and beat it. we saw one of them, though. it was delton." "and do you know what he was doing there?" bud asked with a quizzical smile. "what?" "chasing me! i found the water hole, too, and something else and this delton dragged me for miles and locked me in a room. then i got out and his gang followed me to the water hole, where i lost them." "hey, take it easy! start from the beginning. let's hear it, bud." nort and dick listened eagerly as bud once again told the tale of his capture. chapter xvii a night of waiting "the old rascal!" nort exclaimed after bud had finished. "so that's what they were doing at the water hole? if we had known that we would have taken a chance and rushed them." "just as well you didn't," bud declared. "wouldn't have gained anything by it. and anyway, we don't want to upset their plans for to-morrow night. the kid, here, thinks they'll go through with the idea." "don't be too sure," warned dick. "it may never come off, since they know bud overheard them planning." "yes, but don't you see they can't get word to the others in time?" the kid insisted. "they can't call it off. the other end of the smuggling line has already made plans that they can't break, so this end has to go through with their scheme. at least that's the way i look at it." "seems reasonable," dick agreed. "but just the same i think it's better to be prepared." "naturally. what did you find out about the sheep-man, dick?" the latter spoke of one tentatively engaged and told the kid his new horse would be sent over in a day or so. the remainder of the day went quickly. when evening came the boys were excitedly making plans for the following night. after "chuck" they gathered around the table in the sitting room and discussed ways and means. the kid was in favor of drastic action. "no, we've got to go slowly," dick cautioned. "this isn't strictly our affair, you know. the government is interested in it. and it's anything but a joking matter. the other adventures we had--at spur creek and in the desert--were our own concern entirely. this is different. hawkins hasn't said so, but i think it means a lot to him if we aid in capturing the smugglers." "thought you were out here to herd sheep?" billee dobb put in. "we were--at first. but there's no use trying to dodge the issue--from now on until this business is finished, we have one job on hand--to help stop chink smuggling. the sheep can wait." "that's the stuff!" yellin' kid burst out. "i was waitin' to hear you say that, dick. might as well look things in the face! we've gotten too deep into this to drag freight now!" "you're right, kid," approved bud. "and truth to tell, i'm not a bit sorry. i don't care for delton a-tall. we'll go through with this, and finish it up right." "and get my ole bronc back," the kid said loudly. "we might do that, too," dick laughed. "well, let's hit the hay. plenty to do to-morrow." the night passed quietly. the punchers were up with the sun, all eager for the task on hand. directly breakfast was over, dick and bud rode to town in order to see hawkins. all thought it best that the deputy should learn, as soon as possible, of the new development, for he might want to change his plans in accordance. the boys found him in his office. "come in, boys!" he invited when dick and bud stood in the doorway. "how's everything? any more cyclones?" "not yet," answered bud with a laugh. "the weather is quiet, but that's the only thing that is." "what do you mean?" the deputy asked quickly. without any preliminaries bud told the story of his capture and escape. the deputy listened carefully, now and then asking a question. when bud had finished he sat silent for a moment, drumming his desk with his fingers. suddenly he brought his fist down with a bang and looked up. "that settles it!" he cried in a decided tone of voice. "delton is finished! from now on we go after him tooth and nail! and i want you boys to know something. i can rely on you, of course, to keep it a secret." strangely the deputy's western accent seemed to leave him, and he assumed a more cultured tone of voice. he held a shiny piece of metal out toward bud. "i'm from washington--secret service--here's my badge." bud took it silently. it was, indeed, the badge of a federal official. "i took this job as an ordinary deputy to disarm suspicion," hawkins went on. "i knew if i came to roaring river as a stranger i'd be investigated, and perhaps have to give myself away. so i just got myself appointed a deputy, and then i could work openly. no one would suspect a western deputy of being a federal man--there's too many of them. now you know why i'm so interested in this smuggling. we've simply _got_ to stop it--somehow! even the chinese who are in this country legitimately don't like to see their countrymen come in by the back door. and what good are immigration laws if we can't enforce them? i'm just telling you this to impress upon you the seriousness of the project." "it is certainly no joking matter," bud agreed, handing back the badge. "so you're a federal man! i should think if you wanted to trace the smugglers secretly you'd take another position than deputy." "you'll see how it will work out," hawkins said. "it's sometimes best to seem almost what you are, to avoid seeming what you really are. figure that one out. what i mean is, if i openly assume the aspect of a man of the law, no one will look further than that. understand?" "i do," responded dick. "and now let's decide on our plan of action. do you think what happened to bud will change any of the details, mr. hawkins?" "don't see why it should. in fact i think it makes our scheme all the more advisable. personally, i believe the run will go through to-night. there's no doubt but that's what you heard referred to, bud, for i had a tip concerning the same thing. they will depend on the element of surprise and the superiority in number to succeed. we'll have our hands full, at any rate." "somehow this doesn't seem real," mused bud. "here we are planning to capture a gang of smugglers who _know_ we're after them, yet they go right ahead and play into our hands." "my dear boy," said hawkins grimly, "you don't quite understand. delton is far from playing into our hands. in fact, if truth be told, our chances are rather slim that we'll ever see delton. he's no baby. but i think we've got him beaten in one way--the gang across the border doesn't know what we know. now here's the situation." dick and bud came closer. "a shipload of chinks have just landed in mexico. never mind how i know, but i do. these chinese have got to be smuggled over the border within three days, to make room for another bunch. all right. this gang in mexico corresponded with delton last week, telling him that he was to receive the chinks on a certain night. "there's one thing we want to make sure of--and that is to avoid frightening them off. has there been much action around your ranch?" "none at all. we've kept things pretty quiet." "that's good. tell you--i think it would be best if you fellows would stay as close to the ranch house as possible, until this thing is over. you see the smugglers might send out a one man auto patrol, some time to-day or this evening, to look over the lay of the land, and if he sees anything suspicious the chances are that he'll choose another route to ship the chinks over the border by. but i don't think they'll go far from roaring river. they got away with it so easy last time, that they'll probably try it again. well--" hawkins tightened his lips grimly--"they won't work it twice." "any more instructions?" dick asked. "no--i'll be over to the shooting star sometime this afternoon. may bring a friend with me--larry o'connor--one sweet shot with a revolver. that is if i think we need him." "well, we've got five men all told," dick declared. "and all of us are fairly used to handling guns. target practice at tin cans keeps your eye in, and we do lots of that." "good idea, if you can afford the money for ammunition. never know when you'll need to rely on a well-placed shot." "are you just going to ride over to the ranch openly?" bud asked. "won't someone see you?" "even if they do, they won't suspect anything. but to make sure i'll wait until after dark. guess that would be best. no attempt will be made until well on into the night, and we'll have plenty of time to get set for them." "then we'll see you to-night?" inquired dick as he arose. "sure thing! oh, by the way--keep an eye on that mex cook of yours, will you? i want him where i can grab him quick if i need him." "we will. good-bye until to-night, mr. hawkins." "so-long, boys." bud and dick rode back to the shooting star. as soon as possible they told the others of their talk with hawkins, and of his being a secret service official. billee dobb said he "opined as much long ago." the day dragged on. the boys were all slightly nervous, though they wouldn't admit it. several times one would catch the other fingering his gun unconsciously. but evening finally came, and while they were eating supper joe hawkins arrived. he was alone. "thought you were going to bring someone with you?" bud said when the greetings were over. "decided it wasn't necessary. we've got plenty here. now, boys, are you all set?" "all set!" the kid said loudly. "bring 'em on!" "they'll come without us bringing them," hawkins declared a trifle grimly. "turn that lamp low, dick, and let's get out of here." "what about the mex?" inquired the kid. "bring him along," the agent declared. "want him where i can keep an eye on him." in spite of his wordless protests, the cook was dragged out of the kitchen and made to accompany the punchers to a place near the side of the house. and there the six men watched, each with his hand on his gun and with ears strained for the sound of a car. there was a road which ran past the ranch and into the town. it was over this road that the watching men expected the smugglers to come. and now all settled down to a night of waiting. chapter xviii smuggling operations hardly a breath of wind stirred. the sky had become partly clouded, blotting out the moon. now and then a horse whinnied, softly, as though frightened. the waiting men moved about uneasily, talking in whispers. nine o'clock passed. then ten came. the air grew chill and damp, and the clouds overhead gathered more thickly. "gonna rain," said the kid in a low voice. "we sure are favorites with the weather man." "may hold off," bud observed softly. he moved over to where hawkins was standing, eyes peering down the road. "what do you think of it?" he asked the agent. "not much," was the quiet answer. "looks like rain. that means we'll have a hard job to see them when they do come." "hey, the mex wants to go back," the kid said, lowering his voice. "he's cold, i guess." "you tell him to stay where he is, or he'll be colder yet," hawkins said in a grim voice. "we can't afford to take any chances now. bring that mex over here. i want to talk to him." "what's that?" dick suddenly asked. they all listened tensely. in the distance they could hear a low rumble. "thunder," nort said. "first night storm we've had in a long while." "where's that mexican?" inquired hawkins again. "bring him here, kid." yellin' kid led the cook to where hawkins was intently watching the road. the agent turned to the mexican and stared hard at him. "you know jose salvo?" he asked suddenly. the mexican nodded vigorously. then he pointed to himself and held up two fingers. "his brother? well, what do you know about that!" plainly the secret service agent was surprised. "no wonder you look like him! bud, you remember that mexican we saw in the restaurant the first day you hit town? the one i told you to watch out for? well, this bird is his brother!" "i thought it was the same one, when we first saw him! his brother, eh? and what's he doin' at this ranch?" the mexican apparently heard the question, and endeavored to answer it. in the gloom they could see his arms and hands motioning forcibly, but none of them were able to understand the message. "better wait," suggested billee dobb. "the poor critter is almost scared out of his wits. he may have a bad brother, but i think he's o. k. himself. i'll watch him for you. over here, mex!" he ordered sharply. the cook walked slowly over to billee, and squatted down beside him. he looked up at the old rancher as a calf might look for protection to a cow. "i'll depend on you to see that he doesn't pull any funny work," hawkins said to billee. "when the show starts we'll have our hands full, and we don't want any slip-ups." yet they could not afford to give up now. if things worked out as the agent had hoped, they might succeed in arresting delton and his gang. "and that reward will come in right handy," billee dobb said. "will we really get a reward if we capture these smugglers?" nort asked hawkins. "you certainly will! and the government will be glad to pay it, too." "i don't care so much about the reward as i do about getting delton," declared bud, as he remembered how he was mistreated at the hands of the smuggler. "an' i'd like to get my bronc back," yellin' kid asserted, as he moved his arms briskly about to warm himself. the night wore on, minutes seeming like hours. billee dobb stood motionless, leaning against the side of the ranch house, and at his feet sat the mexican, seemingly oblivious of the cold. hawkins moved slowly about, glancing every now and then down the road. the others stood about, talking in low tones. the storm seemed to have been blown aside, as the rumble of thunder no longer reached the ears of the waiting men. still the moon was covered with clouds, making the night almost pitch-black. a soft glow from the low-turned lamp within the ranch house was the only illumination. "say, i'm goin' to take a walk around to the corral," exclaimed the kid suddenly. "this waitin' is gettin' me woozy. just want to see if the ponies are all right." "watch your step," bud cautioned. "it's pretty dark. and don't make too much noise." "i ain't goin' on any picnic," yellin' kid answered. "be back soon." he left the protection of the house and in a moment was lost sight of in the darkness. it wasn't far to the corral, and as he approached the horses stirred uneasily. "all right there, ponies," the kid called softly. at the sound of a familiar voice the restless moving stopped, and the animals suffered the kid to walk in among them. "lonesome, hey?" he said in a low tone. "so am i. don't like this hangin' around nohow! wish we'd have some action." he stroked the nose of one of the steeds. the horse whinnied softly in response. "wish i had my own cayuse here," the kid mused. "hated to lose her. best bronc i ever had. golly, it's dark!" as though to dispute him the moon suddenly slid from behind the clouds. the kid looked about him--at the ranch house, standing gaunt and silent, and at the little group of men waiting motionless--and at the moonlit road, stretching far out over the prairie. there'd be no smugglers to-night. why, you could see for miles down that road, now. not a thing in--what was that? the kid stared harder. there, about a mile away, lurching from side to side? it must be--a car! coming fast, too! for a moment the kid stood quietly. then with a leap he made for the ranch house. as he reached the men the moon disappeared again, and the scene was blotted out. "hey!" he called in a repressed yell. "they're comin'!" "what!" the group turned like a flash, as one man. "who's coming? where?" "down the road! an automobile!" excitement spread like a wave. "easy!" hawkins cautioned. "not so much noise! what did you see, kid?" "saw an auto comin' down the road like a locoed steer! just when the moon came out then, i happened to be lookin' that way, and i saw----" "listen!" bud held up his hand, forgetting that they couldn't see him in the darkness that had now settled down again. "don't you hear something?" through the air came the sounds of a car--the throttle wide open. "can't see it, but i can hear it!" hawkins exclaimed. "must be driving without lights. they sure are coming! all set, you men?" "one of us better get the ponies ready, in case we miss them!" the kid declared. "billee, will you do that?" "suppose so," the rancher grumbled. "i allers seem t' miss the fightin'!" "you'll get plenty of that," asserted hawkins. "but let's not waste time talking. they'll be here in two minutes. listen, you fellows, and listen good! billee, you get the horses ready for a quick start. nort, you and the kid get around to the other side of the house, fast. dick, bud and i will stay here. "now here's what's going to happen--the car will pull up right here, and the chinks will be unloaded. we take them--don't forget, we're delton's men. as soon as they hand the chinks over to us we cover the men in the car, and get them. then when delton comes we get him, too--if we can. he should be here now--must have been a slip-up in the time. all the better for us. quick--do you understand?" the roar of the approaching car could be heard plainly now. there was not much time left. "you want nort an' me to watch the road in the other direction?" asked the kid. "yes--and we'll be here when they unload the chinks. all right now?" "all set! let's go, nort!" yellin' kid and nort ran swiftly to the other side of the ranch house, in which position they would be hidden from sight of the road until they chose to show themselves. billee dobb went around to the corral. the oncoming car was plunging along the road, and would reach the shooting star ranch in another minute. it couldn't be seen, due to the blackness of the night--the clouds seemed to have thickened in the last few minutes--but the noise was sufficient indication of its approach. the six men awaited its arrival with breathless excitement. if the plan only worked! delton would surely show up sooner or later, he couldn't risk too long a delay--and the capture would be complete. the boys felt their hearts beating fast as the moment approached. guns were out now, and ready for action. suddenly another sound came to the ears of the waiting ones--the sound of rapid hoof-beats. those on the farther side of the house from. where the car was coming peered down the road in the direction of town. they held their breaths. "hear it?" the kid asked excitedly of nort. "horses! and coming this way! it must be delton--he timed it perfectly--he'll arrive just as the car does! kid, we've got more than our hands full this time!" "shall we tell the others?" "no time--we've got to try and head them off, until hawkins stops the car, gets the chinks and covers the smugglers! come on, kid!" the two, with guns drawn, ran down the road in the direction of the approaching horsemen. it was a foolhardy thing to do, for they had no means of telling how many of delton's gang were coming. louder and louder sounded the gallop of the ponies, and nearer came the smugglers' car. the night was still pitch-black. the moon was as if it had never shone. in the distance thunder muttered, but the boys were too excited to notice it. overhead the clouds were growing heavier. "here they come, kid! stop them!" nort threw himself in front of one of the ponies just as the group of horsemen were about to dash through. yellin' kid jumped to nort's side, gun drawn. "hold up there!" he yelled. "stick 'em up! high!" there was a vivid flash of lightning. in the glare the two challengers saw that delton was directly in front of them, and behind him were four others. delton reached for his gun. then the heavens opened with a crash of thunder and the rain poured down in a deluge. chapter xix the chase through the darkness came many and varied sounds. the thunder rolled long and continuously. the angry voices of men rose loud and hoarse. along the drenched road came the smugglers' car, its exhaust roaring. and over all the rain came down in torrents. "out of the way there, you!" came a voice. "we ain't got no time for foolin'!" "stick to it, nort!" the kid yelled. "don't let them through!" the two boys were standing in the middle of the road, guns out, determined to prevent delton and his men from closing in on hawkins, who was grimly awaiting the smuggling car. if they could be held off until the auto pulled in and stopped, the party at the other side of the ranch house might succeed in capturing the chink runners. there was a sudden shot. "hurt, nort?" the kid called anxiously. "nope! missed! put those guns up, you! we've got you covered! climb down off those horses quick, or we'll fill you full of holes!" there was a desperate ring in the boy rancher's voice, and delton must have recognized this, for he yelled something to the men back of him and they all halted. the thunder was less frequent now, although the rain had not let up. the boys standing in the road were soaked to the skin. still they remained firmly in their place, listening to the roar of the approaching car, and hoping they could hold delton until it reached the ranch. by the sound it was almost to the shooting star ranch now. in another moment---- "hey, you guys, what's the idea?" through the night came a questioning voice. "don't you know it's rainin' here? how about lettin' us in the ranch to get dry?" "you stay where you are!" the kid yelled. "you'll have plenty o' time to get dry all right!" "kid--here's the car! watch out now!" nort was at the kid's side, but facing the other way. "can you see anything--any of delton's bunch?" "nope--only hear that guy that was talking! can you?" "no but--what's that?" from the other side of the house came three shots in rapid succession. then someone yelled. the next moment dick came splashing around to where the kid and nort were waiting. "they--they fooled us!" dick panted. "delton and three others got to the car before we did and warned the smugglers! they all got away!" "delton!" the kid exclaimed. "why, we had him here----" "yes you did!" came a mocking voice. "you big cheese--all you had was a good talk! so long!" there was the splashing noise of a horse rapidly departing for parts unknown. "can--you--beat--that!" nort ejaculated. "fooled! taken in like suckers! while we stood here talking----" "yes, and while we're standing here talking now, the smugglers are getting farther and farther away! come on! we've got to chase them!" dick turned and made for the corral. "chase an auto on a horse?" the kid yelled. "what's the sense of that?" "they can't go fast in this wet--and we can spot them by the noise. hurry up!" "but i ain't got no pony!" wailed the kid. "wish i had my bronc! what am i supposed to do; stay here?" "no--one of delton's bunch lost his seat and we've got his animal--use that. he got away in the auto. but for the love of pete, hurry up!" the rain had abated a little when the boys reached the corral. billee dobb was waiting with the ponies untied and ready. it was but the work of a moment to mount and lead the other horses over to where hawkins and bud were standing. "where's my new bronc?" the kid asked as he came up. "here--this do you?" bud was holding a little black pony. "sure--as long as it's got legs!" the kid swung himself upon the horse's back. "right! let's go!" "we've no time to lose, men!" hawkins called out. "we messed that up proper! this delton is more clever than i thought he was." all were mounted now and ready to take up the chase. the kid was letting his pony walk about, and the rest were awaiting hawkins's word to start. the six riders set out into the night. hawkins said the car had taken a route at right angles and to the left of the road, and all went in that direction. they pushed their ponies as fast as they dared over the soaked prairie, hoping to catch sight of the car before they had ridden too far. it was obvious that no auto could make great speed over the rough surface of the plains, and to add to this rain must certainly slow them up still more. so the punchers had a fairly good chance of overtaking them. delton would probably be acting as convoy to the car, and if they were able to take that, they would capture him also. with these thoughts in mind the ranchers beat along through the rain, which was not now so heavy. "what happened?" asked billee dobb. "just this," bud answered. "mr. hawkins and i were waiting for the car to reach us. we couldn't hear what was happening on the other side of the house, and mr. hawkins and i were all set to grab the gang in it, when four men came riding by like mad and reached the car before we did. they yelled something, and in a second the car was off the road and away, the horsemen after it. but one of the riders fell, and didn't wait to get on his horse again--just hopped on the running board of the car." "what were those cracks we heard?" "i took a couple of pot-shots at the tires, but i don't think i hit anything. too dark. and it was raining cats and dogs, you know." "don't i know it! nort an' me sure had our hands full. five men to stop! we figured if we could hold them until you had the fellows in the car covered, we could capture them too. say, see any chinks in the car?" "didn't see anything! the car turned off before we could get close enough to see in it." "too bad we couldn't work it, boys," hawkins ruefully said. "we've still got a chance to nab them, though. they can't get far over this ground with a car." "they can lead us a merry chase," dick asserted. "wonder what time it is?" "one o'clock," bud suggested. "not much more, anyway. think they came over this way, mr. hawkins?" "yes--i do. know where we are?" "comin' to the water hole, i think," answered yellin' kid. "say, maybe they're going to try and make for the place where they held me!" bud exclaimed. "that's over this way somewhere." "can you find it again?" the agent asked, an anxious note in his voice. "think so." "then if we don't make out to-night we can have a try at that in the morning." "how far do you want to go?" bud asked hawkins. "let's see now. i have an idea, and i want to see what you fellows think about it. first, though, are you sure that you can find that ranch where they held you, bud?" "can in daylight. maybe not at night." "if you started from the water hole do you think you could spot it at night?" "might. i could try it, anyway." "hold up a minute, then." the six riders drew rein, and waited for the agent's next words. "it's not much use trailing them much farther. what i think they did, is to make for that ranch house where bud was, and stay there. now here's the point. even if we did come upon them now, we'd have a hard job taking them. i think this is a better plan. listen, now." the boys drew closer around hawkins. "this idea i have calls for two men to stay up all night. who'll do it?" "me!" "let me in on that!" "what is it--keeping guard?" "yes, nort, that's exactly what it is--keeping guard. now here's the dope. we followed that bunch pretty far. there's no doubt but that they headed for that house, and intend to unload their chinks there. now if we can only keep them in that house until morning, we can get the whole gang--including the chinks--like rats in a trap. now do you see what i mean?" "you mean you want some of us to watch the place and do a little shootin' so that they won't come out?" "that's it exactly, kid! if two men can get close to the house, and keep firing at intervals, they'll think that we've got them cold, and will stay there long enough to allow us to get them by morning." "what's the matter with all of us going up there now?" "wouldn't do any good, and besides, someone has got to be at your ranch. and some of us have got to get a little sleep. we may have to do some more riding to-morrow." "well, if you think that's best, i'll do it, for one," spoke dick. "and i'll go with you!" bud exclaimed. "i owe delton quite a good deal for the way he hauled me off my horse!" "all set for this new plan then?" asked billee. "yes, i think that would be best," hawkins said slowly. "bud, you know something about the lay-out of the place. we'll ride part of the way with you, in case anything happens. then when we get near it, you'll have to go on alone. you and dick can decide on a plan of action. we will ride back, and return before dawn. this time we won't fail!" "you'll ride with us to the place now, you mean?" "almost to it. then i'll know the way to find it again. come on, let's get started!" the moon was now struggling to shine through the clouds as the six took up the ride again. bud was in the lead. they had ridden for ten minutes when, suddenly, bud uttered an exclamation, and pulled up his horse. "look there!" he cried, pointing. ahead loomed a dark mass. the boys rode up to it. as they approached slowly the moon finally came out fully, and before them they, saw the wreck of an automobile. chapter xx down and out "it's a car!" dick cried. "must be the smugglers' machine, and they wrecked it and got away! now we know they're at that ranch!" "wonder what happened to the chinks?" the kid said as he examined the wreck more closely. the mass of twisted metal lay still in the moonlight like some once-living thing that had met its sudden doom. "probably dragged them along too," hawkins suggested. "yep, i think this is the smugglers' car, all right. looks like the one we had a short glimpse of, just before it turned off. and, if that's the case, our plan may succeed. having a harbor close at hand, it's natural for them to make for it. now it's up to us to see that they stay there until we capture them." "that's our job, and we'll do it too," bud said in a determined tone of voice. "might as well get going. the longer we stay here, the more time we give delton." "true enough," commented dick. "i wonder if anyone was hurt when this car crashed?" "doubt it," hawkins said. "those boys are too lucky! if they weren't they never would have gotten away with the stunt they pulled to-night. imagine riding right into our hands and getting away from us! every time i think of it i feel like kicking myself around the block." "it wasn't any more your fault than the fault of the rest of us," nort declared. "they were too many, and too clever. let's forget it and go after them again, and this time we'll win. what do you say, boys?" "sure will!" "no more foolin' around for us!" "well, on our way," bud called. he took one more look at the auto lying on its side in a small depression, and spurred his horse onward. the rest followed quickly. the night was well spent, now, and but little time remained to reach the ranch and post the guard. however, it was not far now, and by dint of hard riding, following directions from bud, they reached the vicinity of the ranch house in half an hour. they halted well away from the house itself. "take it easy now," hawkins cautioned. "we don't want to make too much noise. bud, have you and dick decided what you're to do?" "practically--he is going to take one side, and i'm to take the other, and if we see anyone come out we'll fire over their heads. that'll keep 'em in all right, for they can't see us in the dark. no one likes to be fired on by someone he can't see--as we all found out. now it's time to give them some of their own medicine." "yes sir!" exclaimed the kid. "i wish i could stay with you, dick, and have a crack at them myself." "you come along with us, kid. we'll be back before dawn, and you'll see plenty of action then. now is there anything you boys want before we leave?" asked the secret service man. "might bring back a snack for us," bud suggested. "it's cold and hungry work waiting in the dark. not that we mind it," he added quickly, "as long as it helps capture delton. and if you can make it, mr. hawkins, please get back as soon as you can. they may try to make a rush for it." "we will--we'll be back as soon as we get things right at the ranch and maybe snatch an hour's rest. depends on how much time we have. but we'll surely be back before it's light." this conversation was being carried on near a small group of trees, just out of sight of the old farm or ranch house. now hawkins and the rest turned their ponies toward home. dick and bud, of course, were due to remain and watch delton's retreat. "now we're on our own," bud said as he listened to the hoof-beats of the horses gradually dying away. "let's get up to where we can see the house." "what about the broncs? think we better leave them?" "well, what do you think? we want them near us so we can get going quick if we have to. suppose we tie them as close to the house as we can without being seen?" "that's a good idea. well, there's the place. somebody's sure in it. all lit up!" the boys stood and looked at the old farm house which loomed in the moonlight before them. it was certainly inhabited, for several lights were glowing on the ground floor, and every now and then a figure would pass in front of the lamps, casting a shadow plainly visible from the outside. "got a lot of nerve, walking around like that in front of lamps," bud commented. "easy to take a pot-shot at them." "guess they don't figure us as the kind for that sort of thing," dick responded. "and we're not, either--though it would serve them right if someone did let ride at the window." the two boys now took up their positions agreed upon--dick around to the left, and bud to the right. they were thus separated from each other by about three hundred yards. "mustn't start thinking foolish things!" dick exclaimed to himself. "got enough on my mind now." he shook his head as though to rid it of fancies which hung around it. the boy was certainly not of a morbid type, and it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be a bit uneasy, considering his situation. yet he would not even admit to himself that he was anything but wholly composed. "wonder how bud is making out?" he thought. "perhaps i'd better sneak over and see. but no, there's no sense in that." thus did he dismiss the craving for company. "besides, i've got my job cut out for me here." he looked more intently at the house, seeking to concentrate his attention on the everyday affairs of life. smuggling. the reward if they caught delton. what they could do with it. a new herd of cows. the kid's bronc--whether he would see it again. how delton timed the arrival at the shooting star ranch just when the smuggling car got there. the getaway. how it did rain! still, in spite of himself, that uneasy feeling was stealing over the boy. surely there was no one around but bud, away over on the other side. of course it was night, but there was plenty of moonlight, and there was not much chance of delton's men prowling about. perhaps it was because there were trees back of him that dick felt restless. might be better to move more out in the open. the boy arose, then suddenly froze into stillness. that peculiar feeling that there was someone behind him became stronger. it seemed as though a pair of eyes were boring into his back. he listened intently. suddenly he heard a voice. "hey, dick!" the boy turned swiftly, hand on his every nerve a quiver! "it's me, dick! billee dobb!" what a relief! the boy now recognized the old rancher's voice, and the next moment billee appeared, walking as noiselessly as possible. "what on earth are you doing here, billee?" "i decided to come back. didn't want to miss all the fun." "yes, but you weren't supposed to, were you?" "i told hawkins, an' he said go ahead. so here i am." "so i see." dick could now afford to laugh at his foolish fears. "but let me tell you, you gave me a thrill for a moment. now that you're here, what are you going to do?" "watch with you. that's what i came back for." "nice of you to do it, billee. what time is it, do you know?" "'bout two. lots of time yet." the rancher was observing the activity within the old house. nothing could be seen but the passing and re-passing of the figures in front of the windows, but for some reason it appeared that more persons were moving about. "looks as though something was goin' to happen," billee commented in a low voice. "think so? well, we've just got to wait, that's all." the time passed slowly. billee and dick were observing the situation within the house as best they might, without necessarily exposing themselves. "say, dick," said the veteran rancher after an hour that seemed like a year, "i'm goin' to investigate." "what do you mean?" "i'm a-goin' up and have a look inside an' see what's happenin'." "i don't know, billee--they might spot you and let ride with some lead." "don't worry about that, dick. they'll never know i'm there. now you wait here an' i'll be right back." "well, for the love of pete, be careful! we don't want anything to go wrong." "nothin's goin' wrong. now you wait." billee dobb moved softly in the direction of the ranch house, walking so easily it seemed as though he were stepping on wool. unlike most other punchers, who spend most of their time on horseback, billee was exceptionally surefooted. much tramping about the country did that for him, and there were some who said he had been active in indian warfare, long ago. he would be the first to deny this, however, as it would add too much to his age. so while dick waited impatiently, the rancher went toward the house, shoulders low, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. the distance between the house and where dick was waiting was not far, but it was all open, and with the moon lighting up the scene almost like day, a person crossing might be easily seen. nearer and nearer billee crept. dick could see him picking his way like a dancer, so that he might step on no branch or twig which would break and give him away. now he was almost at the side of the house. dick saw him lean forward and cautiously peer in the window. then it happened. dick saw a flash of fire from within the room, and the roar of a gun awakened the stillness of the night. billee staggered back. he fell to the ground, but was up in a moment, and ran swaying toward dick. the door of the house flew open, and a man with a gun in his hand burst out on the porch. like a flash dick had his gun out and fired. the man ducked back as the bullet struck the side of the house with a resounding "ping!" with a supreme effort billee reached the shelter of the trees. dick ran to him. the old man's face was twisted with pain, and he sank to the earth. "dick--dick--" he gasped, "they got me! they got me! i'm down--and--out!" chapter xxi closing in nort, mr. hawkins and yellin' kid rode as fast as they might toward the shooting star. it was their intention to reach the ranch and return as soon as possible, after having taken a bite to eat. the idea of resting was given up as the hours flew by. it seemed no time at all before the stars grew dull, and the gray fingers of dawn spread out in the east. "have to hurry," hawkins commented as he fumbled around in the dark kitchen of the ranch. "where in thunder is that lamp? haven't you got one out here?" "sure--i think so," nort answered. "have to hunt for it, though. i'm not so certain of my ground here. it's all new to me, you know. "well, it's not in the corner, that's sure. let's have another match, kid. ah, here we are!" the soft illumination of an oil lamp flooded the room. "got any non-exploding sand in this machine, nort?" "what's that?" "it's something the gold-brick artists used to sell to farmer's wives to keep lamps from exploding. nothing hut plain, ordinary sand, but the directions that came with it said to always keep the lamp clean, not to put too much oil in it, trim the wick, and so forth. then put the sand in and the lamp would never explode. of course it wouldn't, if the directions were followed. but the sand didn't help any. it was the cleaning that did the trick. yet the buyer bought peace of mind and security for ten cents, so the game wasn't so bad as it sounds." "pretty good!" the kid laughed. "never heard of that trick before, but a feller was out here last year sellin' an electric belt, guaranteed to take off ten pounds. all you had to do was to live on bread an' water for five days an' run two miles every morning, wearin' the electric belt. didn't do no business here, though, 'cause most of the boys wanted to put on weight, not lose it." "some graft," hawkins declared. "well, that's neither here nor there. find that bread and meat, nort?" "yep. got it all fixed up. say, by the way, i wonder where that mex cook of ours went?" "that's so too!" exclaimed hawkins, as they hurriedly ate a lunch. "forgot all about him in the excitement. no use looking for him now, i suppose. he may turn up." "then again he may not," the kid spoke grimly. "we're well rid of him, i think. don't like them greasers nohow, and this one was no prize beauty. didn't bud say he was one of delton's men?" "said he might be. he's not so bad, kid. he may be dumb, but i don't think he'd pull anything really raw." "you seem right interested in him, nort." "no, it isn't that, but i just don't like to see you get him wrong. well, never mind. let it ride. how about starting back, mr. hawkins?" "right. blow out that lamp, kid, and let's be on our way." the three made their way toward the door, moving by sense of touch. as they reached their ponies, tied up near the house, the moon was a pale disc hanging on the edge of the horizon. the chill wind of dawn stirred restlessly, and the men shivered slightly. though their wet clothes had nearly dried, they were still a bit damp, and not conducive to comfort on the open prairie. "just about make it if we step along," nort said, looking up at the dimming stars. "takes a long while to get light out here," yellin' kid asserted. "we'll get there before dawn. but let's go. i'm frozen." the three threw their mounts into a gallop and set out once more for delton's ranch. "i had an idea that billee dobb wanted to stay with bud," nort said as they sped along. "the old boy hates to miss any action." "well, i thought as long as he really wanted to go back, he might as well go," hawkins declared. "he might be of some help, after all. never can tell what will happen when you're trailing a gang like delton's." "you mean pretty rough, hey?" "sure! they have to be, to get along in their business. it's no child's play, smuggling chinese. and it's no picnic capturing them, either." over the darkened range the three rode, like avenging angels. no time now for hesitating, and seeking a sure footing for the horses. they must take their chance. and if one spilled--well--it was all in the game. they must reach bud and dick before dawn. to nort, sticking tight to his galloping pony, it seemed to have been a waste of time to ride all the way back to the shooting star. but on second thought he realized that it was necessary for them to have food, for they might be gone some time. a man can neither fight nor ride well on an empty stomach. "nearly there!" commented the kid. no one was wasting words now. breath was too precious. the only sounds heard were the even beats of the ponies' feet on the earth, and the creaking of the saddles. hawkins was riding well, the kid saw, even though he did come from the east. to the cowboy all places not west are "east," and so it was that the kid looked upon washington. "make it?" nort called to the kid. "sure! coming to the water hole now." the kid's thoughts were racing along, keeping pace with the horses' flying feet. as is the case when one is engaged in work of a monotonous nature, such as riding, one's thoughts seem to whirl about in a circle, the same subjects recurring with regularity. the kid was thinking about his lost bronco. then delton. then the reward. then back to the bronco again. and all the while the miles were disappearing behind him. suddenly the kid pulled his mount to a stop. "wait!" he cautioned. "isn't that where we left bud, just ahead?" a group of trees rose in front. they had a familiar aspect. "sure looks like it!" hawkins agreed. "let's take it easy. kid, you lead, and go slow." the three walked their horses toward the trees. as they came nearer, they made certain that they had reached their destination. and just in time. the sky was graying rapidly. "you two wait here, and hold my new bronc," yellin' kid directed softly, "an' i'll go around on foot. see how the land lays. all right, mr. hawkins?" "all right, kid. go ahead. then come back and tell us." the kid dismounted and handed his bridle rein to nort. then he walked carefully into the trees, and disappeared from view. "see some action soon," hawkins declared. he and nort were waiting on their horses about three hundred yards from where the kid had disappeared into the trees. "the old ranch house is right back there. and this time i want to make sure of getting the whole gang." "don't you think they figured we followed them, and are all set for us?" "maybe. can't help that. but i'm not so sure, nort--you know they had to get those chinks to a place of safety. couldn't let them wander around loose. and this was the only place they could go to. they had no choice. and whether they figured we'd follow or not, they had to dig in here." "they sure got away neat before," nort said, as he thought of the escape. "and if they hadn't wrecked their auto we'd probably never have seen them again. now we've got a chance." "yes, and a little more than a chance. wonder what's keeping the kid. told him to come right back." "and here he comes--runnin'!" exclaimed nort suddenly, as a figure burst into sight. "something must be the matter!" they spurred their horses toward the kid, and met him half way. "what is it?" hawkins asked sharply. "billee dobb!" yellin' kid panted. "he's--" it was an ominous pause. "not so loud! easy!" "it's billee!" the kid exclaimed in a lower voice. "they shot him!" "shot him! is he dead?" "not yet. looks pretty bad. bleedin' hard. by golly, let's go after those yellow sneaks, an' get 'em!" "shot billee dobb," nort said slowly, as though he couldn't believe it. "poor old billee! well--" he looked up sharply. "let's go!" the boy's lips were closed grimly. in his eyes shone a wild light. whatever quarter would have been extended to the smugglers before, they could expect none now. the chase had turned--had changed into a personal venture. they had been seeking the capture of the smugglers because it had been their duty. now---- "men," hawkins spoke in a low voice, clipping his words, "let's get started. we got work to do!" there was not another word spoken. belts were tightened, and guns loosened in their holsters. dawn was just breaking. the three men closed in on the ranch house in silence. chapter xxii flying bullets finally nort spoke. "what about billee?" he asked. "dick's taking care of him as best he can. poor old geezer--" the kid bit his lip sharply. "he told me--he was sorry it happened, 'cause now he'll miss the fun." "how did he look, kid? i mean----" "can't tell, nort. he's hit pretty bad. course we don't know for sure--he's pretty old, you know----" "but tough as a board," hawkins broke in. "i know his kind. don't worry boys. i'm sure he'll pull through o. k. kid, is bud coming with us?" "said he'd be right here. want to wait he comes, before going closer?" there was a halt in the determined march toward the ranch house. there seemed to be but little formal plan in the boys' attack; simply to "get those guys an' get 'em good," as the kid expressed it. but now that the first shock of learning of billee's wound had passed, all realized how hopeless it would be to simply go up and take delton. some sort of a scheme of attack was necessary if anything was to be accomplished. "here's bud now," hawkins said as the boy rancher rode toward them. there was a sober look on his face. "how goes it?" the kid asked, anxiously. "pretty fair. he's got a chance, i think. bleeding's stopped. dick's got him covered up with a saddle blanket over there a ways. if i get a crack at delton----" "how'd it happen, bud?" asked hawkins quickly. it was evident that he wanted the boys to control themselves. it was dangerous work they were about to start, and thought must be clear and quick, unimpeded by external circumstance. "from what i gather from dick, billee sneaked up to take a look in one of the windows, and someone snipped him. he just made the shelter of the trees and fell unconscious." "well, men, that means we have an additional reason for taking delton." mr. hawkins looked about him to be sure all were listening. in the east the red rim of the morning sun was bulging over the horizon. the time for action had come. "nort, come over here a minute, will you? hold my bridle rein while i see if i've got that paper with me." the boy, wondering a little, seized the rein while hawkins went through his pockets. the agent's eyes were riveted on nort's hand. it was as steady as a rock. "never mind--guess i won't need it. all right." hawkins took the reins from the boy, satisfied by his little ruse that nort was not affected by his lack of sleep. the business before them called for a firm hand and nerve. hawkins was speaking in a low voice. "can you men all hear what i'm saying? if not, get closer. now listen. we've got to figure this thing out, or fail again. and if we don't take delton this time, i'm afraid we never will. at least that's the way it seems to me. here's what i thought. we'll ask him to surrender and come with us peaceably. we are bound to do that. they know by this time that we are on their heels, and can cause trouble for them if they attempt an escape now. i believe they'll bide their time, and make a rush for it. that's what we have to be ready for. i'm going up there with a flag of truce, and demand that they give in to the law." the agent dismounted and, drawing his gun, he tied to the barrel of it a white handkerchief. "you mean to say you're goin' to walk right up there in broad daylight, after what they did to billee?" yellin' kid asked in a tone of surprise. "i am. it's my duty. besides, it's safe enough. no one but a fool would shoot a man bearing a white flag, when they're in delton's position. it'll go hard enough with them as it is. i have an idea they might agree to come peaceably. "well i haven't," the kid said grimly. "the only way we'll get those skunks out of their hole is to pull them out!" hawkins shrugged his shoulders and prepared to set out. they all walked to the edge of the trees, and just as the sun burst forth in all its glory hawkins started across the open space toward the ranch house. the boys watched him with anxious eyes. would he cross safely, or would he be shot down like a dog? there was no sign from the ranch house. all activity had ceased as though the occupants had been frozen into stillness. nearer and nearer walked the agent, head up, the gun with the handkerchief tied on it held in front of him. still there was no sign of life inside the house. when the agent reached within ten feet of the place, the boys saw him stop and look closely at the quiet house. "hey, you!" he yelled. "nervy guy," the kid commented, "he might easily get creased, standin' there yellin'. me, i wouldn't put it past that bunch!" suddenly a window flew up and a head poked out. it was a stranger, none of the boys ever having seen the fellow before. "what do you want?" the man demanded in a truculent tone. "i call upon you to surrender, in the name of the law!" said hawkins. "you what?" without waiting for an answer, the head drew in but the window remained open. in a moment the head reappeared. "what are you talking about? why should we surrender?" "you're under arrest for smuggling, and for assault and battery with intent to kill!" "you don't say!" the head popped in. then in a moment---- "who are you--john law?" "i happen to be a federal agent. but i'm not here to give you my history. do you surrender?" the boys could hear the sting in the agent's words. "wait a minute." once more the head disappeared. this time it stayed back for some minutes. the watching boys were moving uneasily. finally another came to the window--it was delton. the agent gave no sign that he knew him. "want to speak to me?" asked delton, an imperious note in his voice. "makes no difference who i speak to. i want to know if you'll surrender, and give yourselves over to the law." "what for?" "you know well enough! smuggling, and shooting!" "it was that bird's own fault that he got shot. what's he want to come sneaking around for? serves him right! as for smuggling, who said we were smugglers?" "never mind about that." the agent was speaking quickly now. "i ask you once more, do you surrender?" unwittingly hawkins lowered his gun on which was the flag of truce. there was a sudden report, and a spurt of dust arose at the agent's feet. "there's our answer!" delton yelled, and slammed down the window. hawkins wasted no time in returning to the waiting boys. "that's that," he said grimly, and he removed the handkerchief from his gun. "we got to go after them. kid, where's billee dobb resting?" "over there behind that bend. want me to go over and see how he's makin' out?" "yes. in the meantime, where's that meat and bread you brought, nort? everybody grab some. got water over there for billee, kid?" "yep; dick's got a canteen full, and he's got billee's shoulder tied up with his shirt. we can't do anything more for him 'til we get home." "i hate to think of billee lying out there hurt," bud said a trifle sadly. "think we all better go over and see him?" "no, i don't," hawkins said decidedly. "the kid knows what he's talking about, and if he says we can't do anything more for billee, there's no use tracking over there and getting him excited. here, now, everybody get some of the food nort brought." "not so hungry," bud said, looking longingly toward the window where they had last seen delton. "eat anyway, bud. you'll need it. and stop worrying about billee. i'm sure he'll make out all right." on his way to the injured man the kid brought some of the bread and meat for dick. the others, though they protested they weren't hungry, ate as much as nort carried. all felt better after this refreshment. within five minutes the kid was back. "better!" he called as he came up. "dick says he's getting along o. k. took some of the food and wanted to know if he could be shifted to where he could see the fireworks. he's quiet now, though. dick's afraid he'll start a hemorrhage if he moves around much." "he might, too," bud agreed. "it's best to keep him as quiet as possible. well--when do we start?" hawkins had been standing by the side of his pony. now he mounted and faced the house. "we start now!" he said. "first we have to decide how to close in. i think nort and i had better come in from the left. kid, you and bud get around to the extreme right. in that way we can cover the whole ground. nort and i will start first, and try to make the door. "when i shoot, you start, kid. if we can get into the house, the rest is easy. i know that bunch. fine when they're on top, but as soon as anyone gets under their guard, they welch. that's the reason i think we can make it. but listen--" and the agent's voice dropped. "this is a mighty risky business. i don't want anyone to get in this against his will. no telling what may happen. are you boys willing to take a chance?" bud was the first to speak. "mr. hawkins," he said, "i think i know the others well enough to speak for them. when we started this thing, we did so because it was our duty, and, i might as well admit it, because of the excitement. since then something has happened. billee dobb was shot. are you answered?" "i am," said the agent, with an understanding look. "all set then, boys. around that way, bud. wait for three shots, then close in--fast. let's go!" bud and yellin' kid started for the right of the house. the moment had come. before many more minutes passed, the plan would have either succeeded, or there would be fewer men able to walk around the ranch house. hawkins and nort drew their guns, and headed their ponies to the left, throwing them into a gallop. they crouched low in the saddles. what was in their minds as they made ready for that desperate charge? fear? hardly that. a turmoil of excitement, probably. as they dashed out into the open nort gave a quick glance toward the window. he could see nothing save darkness within. it took but a few seconds for them to reach the side of the house. hawkins looked over at nort. the boy nodded. now! they raced madly toward the house. bang! a shot rang out, and a puff of smoke came from one of the windows. nort's hat went sailing away as though it were on a string. bang! nort saw the agent's pony falter, then recover and go dashing on. now they were almost to the house. it had seemed as though one of them surely would be hit, for they were speeding across perfectly open territory and the occupants of the house were firing rapidly. but, somehow, luck was with them. they reached the porch safely. and just as hawkins was about to give the signal for bud and the kid to attack, he saw something that stayed his hand. from the rear of the house a volume of black smoke was pouring. chapter xxiii a ring of fire "wait, nort!" hawkins yelled. "stick close to the house! get in close! not the front--this way! this way!" he pulled his horse over to one side and held him as near the side wall of the ranch house as he could get. nort followed him, also hugging the wall. in that way they were protected from the bullets of delton's men. "see what happened?" the agent exclaimed. "the place is on fire! now they've got to get out, and they'll run right into our hands. how i hope the kid has sense enough to stay away and nab them when they come out!" the smoke was billowing out in huge clouds, now. it was a frame house, and a firetrap if there ever was one. now the flames licked through, and the boards started to burn as though they had been soaked with gasoline. "can you sneak around the corner and signal to bud?" suggested hawkins. "tell him to stay back. wonder how in thunder this fire ever got going?" nort walked his mount toward the front, still keeping as close to the side of the house as possible. all gun-fire from within the burning place had now ceased, but the boy was taking no chances. there were but two windows on that side of the house, and their rooms were not occupied, so that as long as the ranchers kept hugging the wall they could not be shot at. the firing as they approached had evidently been done from an angle. hawkins's horse was prancing wildly about. his eyes were focused upon the tongues of flame that spurted out of the rear of the building. "they can't stay in there much longer!" hawkins yelled. "how about their ponies? know where they keep them?" "easy to find out. let's do it--quick. we ought to get around to where the kid and bud are and join forces. ready?" hawkins nodded, and once more the two flashed across the open ground, this time away from the danger zone. but there was no need for such haste, for not a shot followed them. "the horses!" nort yelled as he rode up. "get them, bud, and delton won't have a dog's chance!" "got 'em!" bud answered. "soon as we saw the fire i went to where they had them tethered and led 'em over here. there they are, by that tree. say, i wonder who started this thing?" "what makes you think someone started it?" hawkins asked, looking at him closely. "well, i figure it couldn't set itself--and it's not likely an accident would happen." "can't tell--like as not a lamp turned over. wow, look at that roof go! where can those birds be keeping themselves? what chance have they got now?" "probably trying to put it out from inside. foolish thing to do, but they know as soon as they come out they're finished. i wouldn't deliberately set the place on fire, but it sure solved our problem for us." as the fire raged more fiercely, the ranchers looked at each other. what had happened to delton? could it be that he determined to stick it out until the last moment, and risk a horrible death? surely he must realize that in peaceful surrender lay his only hope. suddenly bud uttered a cry. "here comes someone! out of the cellar! look!" running toward them was a bedraggled figure. clothes torn, face blackened with smoke, it presented a truly pitiful picture. as it ran it waved its arms wildly. something in the appearance, or possibly its gesture, caused bud to exclaim: "say, he looks familiar! kid, nort--know who that is?" the boys looked curiously at the wretched man. now he was almost upon them, and they could see his eyes glaring wildly. he reached them and fell to the ground, exhausted. bud dismounted quickly and bent over him. "get up!" he commanded. "let's have a look at you!" the man dragged himself to his feet. at a sight of his face, blackened as it was by the smoke, all started back. "well, what do you know about that!" the kid cried. "it's our mexican cook!" "what are you doing here?" nort asked sharply. "you with delton? hey? tell the truth now or i'll hit you!" "he can't talk!" bud protested. "give him a chance. he's all in. come here, mex." the boy held out his arm and the mexican seized it and steadied himself. "were you with delton?" bud asked. the mexican shook his head negatively. then he pointed to the burning building and waved his arms wildly. "steady up!" bud commanded. "take it easy!" the man took a deep breath and regained control of himself. but his gestures were still inexplainable. after a minute of vain gesticulating the kid suddenly exclaimed: "i think i get it! mex, listen here: did you set that fire?" a vigorous nod of the head. the boys looked at each other in surprise. "what for?" the mexican pointed to himself, then held up two fingers. then he pointed to the house, and shook his fist. "be means his brother!" the kid said. "what about him, mex? did delton get hold of him?" another nod, and more furious gestures. "i see!" cried the kid. "he means delton put his brother up to some dirty work. that right, mex?" eagerly the man signified yes. "and he did this to get back at him. but where is delton, mex? why doesn't he come out? he'll be burned to death in there!" the fire had eaten its way through to the front of the house and now the whole upper story was ablaze. it seemed impossible that any living creature could withstand those flames. "where's delton, mex?" the kid persisted. the cook pointed to the house then to the ground. "the cellar!" bud cried. "he means they're hiding in the cellar! that's the reason they can stay in there so long. we should have thought of that before." "they'll soon be out," spoke hawkins a trifle grimly. "the fire is reaching the lower story. we may expect a rush any minute now." the men were standing in a group at the edge of the trees. with the house directly in front of them, and the country about perfectly flat, there was no chance of anyone escaping unseen. the flames mounted higher. there was a certain amount of awe in the faces of all as they thought of the tortures a person would endure if he were trapped in that furnace. and for all they knew, men might be burning to death in front of them! it was a harrowing situation. even though they had shot billee dobb, it was an inhuman thing to wish, or even think, of them being caught in a burning building. if they would only come out, even though they came shooting! bud saw a huge tongue of flame shoot out of the roof. "i can't stand this any longer!" he shouted. "those men must be burning to death! i can't stay here and watch that. i'm going to----" "but what can you do?" nort asked. "they want to stay there until they're good and ready to leave. i don't see how we can help them. certainly i don't want to see anyone burned to death, but i don't think we can do anything, except go in and get them, which we can't do; and if they won't come out, they won't." "perhaps they're trapped!" "you'd know it if they were. they'd yell or something. no matter how much they want to escape, they won't risk getting burned. no man would." "then why don't they come out?" bud persisted. "ask me something easier! maybe the mex can tell us something about it. hey, mex! why they no come out?" but this time the cook shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide in a gesture expressing ignorance. they could get no information there. "i'm going to ride over and see!" bud exclaimed, a ring of determination in his voice. "well, if you want to--then i'll go with you. kind of wonder where they are myself." this from nort. they had to force their horses to head toward the fire. the sparks were flying high, and the heat could be plainly felt even at the distance the boys stood. but finally bud and nort got the ponies started. the animals approached the fire with mincing steps. the boys had to force them continually onward, for no beast will go toward fire willingly. a few more steps and nort said: "say, bud, there's not much point in this. the broncs will never go near enough for us to see anything. what say we get off and walk? i don't think there's much chance of delton shooting at us. if we really want to find out anything we better get off these horses." "guess that's right," agreed bud as his mount reared high. "fast, though--snap to it, nort!" the boys turned their ponies away from the fire and rode swiftly back. they dismounted and without hesitation, ran again to the burning house. they made for the side, from where the mexican cook had staggered out. "there ought to be an entrance to the cellar about here," bud panted as he ran on. "the mex said they were down there!" as they neared the building they saw that this was so. a small door indicated the way to the cellar. the heat was tremendous, and nort wondered if their errand hadn't been in vain. it didn't seem possible that there living creatures were voluntarily remaining within. just as nort was about to tell bud his thought, a figure emerged and staggered toward them. it was the man who had protested at delton's treatment of bud when the boy had been taken, bound, to this very house. the man was in sad case. his breath was coming in sobs, and he maintained an upright position only by a supreme effort. one side of his face was badly burned. "help--" he gasped. "help--men in there----" "what is it? speak quick!" bud commanded. "can't they get out? are they in danger?' "trapped! delton--in there--can't move--hit on the head----" the next moment the man collapsed at their feet, unconscious. chapter xxiv the rattling buckboard "quick, nort! pull him back out of the heat and call the others! we've got to save those men!" "what's the matter?" dick cried as he came up. "aren't they out of that furnace yet?" "no--they're trapped inside! we've got to get them out! billee dobb--is--is he dead?" "no--he's better! he insisted on my coming over when he saw the smoke. thought i might be needed. no time for talk now--we've got to get busy!" "it's sure death to enter that!" hawkins cried as another huge tongue of flame shot heavenward, sending the boys reeling back. "you'll only throw your lives away!" "i can't help it--we must do something! we can't see them burned to death!" at that moment bud felt a tug at his sleeve. he jerked around. at his elbow was the mexican cook. he motioned to himself, then toward the cellar. then he leaped forward. "follow him!" bud cried. "he knows how to get in safely!" with a rush the others were on the heels of the mexican. "someone has got to stay here--help them out if we do get them!" exclaimed hawkins. "nort--you and dick wait!" bud was directly behind the mexican. he saw the man disappear down into the smoke, and taking a full breath, the boy followed. he found himself below ground, and for a moment hesitated to get his bearings. the air was choking, but the heat was not intolerable. the fire had not quite reached the lower floor. there was no time to be lost, for any minute the building might collapse and bury them. bud plunged on. he could see faintly now, and he caught a glimpse of a figure in front of him, beckoning. "go--ahead!" the boy gasped. "coming!" a few steps further and he stumbled against a door. at his side was the mexican, pointing. bud pushed frantically, but the door refused to budge. then he found the reason. it was bolted. "you--you locked them in! you inhuman----" he saw the mexican shrug his shoulders. even in the burning building the latin's philosophical mind did not desert him. bud struggled with the bolt. it stuck. he strove with all his strength--and the door flew open. the boy stumbled in. his foot struck a body stretched upon the floor. he reached down and lifted the unconscious man to his shoulder. behind him he heard a voice. it was that of yellin' kid. "give him here!" the kid seized the limp form and passed it to someone at his side. "we'll get 'em out like a bucket-brigade! pass 'em to me, bud!" through the smoke bud groped his way. his hand encountered another body. in a moment he lifted the man and passed him to the kid. his head felt as if it were bursting, but on he struggled, seeking, hands outstretched. he passed another body out to the kid. another. then he heard a moan and turned toward it. a man lay against the wall. his hands moved feebly, and even in the smoke and gloom bud, could see blood streaming from a cut on his head. the boy bent over and grasped the man's arm. his face was within an inch of the other's. "delton!" the boy's cry was involuntary. here, under his very hands, was the man who was the cause of their misfortunes--who had committed crimes, no telling how many, and who had perhaps shot one of their comrades. and yet bud was risking his life to save this creature. was it fair to ask----? a low moan came from the wretched figure. bud looked for a long moment at the blood-stained face. then with a sudden heave he lifted him and staggered to the door. "i'll take him!" he gasped to the kid, who had reached for the burden. "see if there are any more!" he heard yellin' kid smashing against the walls in an effort to locate other senseless figures. then he followed bud. "can't find any more. ask the mex how many----" the cook heard the inquiry and flung his arms wide, indicating that the rest had made their escape. the kid, gasping, plunged out into the open. as he gulped in great mouthfuls of the welcome fresh air the kid heard a sudden crash. he turned quickly. a shower of sparks and flames shot into the air, like the eruption of a volcano. there was another roar, and the next moment the building was in ruins. the walls had collapsed, and nothing remained of the structure but a pile of embers. with horror written on his face, the kid looked wildly about him. "bud!" he almost screamed. "bud--is he in there? get him out--get him----" "all right, kid--all right--" said a voice by his side. it was bud. the kid stared at him for a long minute, with a suspicious moisture in his eyes. then he laid his hand on bud's shoulder. "thought--you were--" he said in a husky voice. and he did a strange yet a boyish thing. he withdrew his hand from bud's shoulder and planted it hard under the other's ribs. "baby!" he exclaimed. "we sure did clean up that place! threw them out like bags of corn. anybody hurt bad?" the two, their faces blackened and with clothes torn, walked toward the group of men gathered about the injured. they saw the forms stretched on the ground, and for a moment feared that their rescue work had been in vain. the boy ranchers looked at the figure upon the ground. the man groaned and opened his eyes. he stared straight into the eyes of bud. for a moment hostility glared out at the boy, then delton half closed his eyes as though he were trying to think. the men gathered about were quiet, watching their prisoner. he wet his lips with his tongue. "thanks," he murmured, and held out his hand with a feeble gesture. bud reached down and grasped it with a smile. "don't mention it," the boy said quickly. then he straightened up and looked over to mr. hawkins. "say, are you thinking the same thing i am?" he asked the agent. "you mean, where are the chinks? you bet i'm wondering that! wait, i believe i can find out. hey, mex!" the agent called to the cook who was standing on the edge of the group. "come here! you know him?" he pointed to a man seated on the ground, leaning against a tree, with one of his sleeves burned entirely away. the arm was scorched. but with his other hand the man was calmly holding a cigarette. the mexican cook looked at him and then nodded briefly. "he's your brother, isn't he?" another careless nod. "then you ask him what became of the chinks!" "why don't you ask him yourself?" dick wanted to know. "tried it--won't answer. i think his brother can make him talk." this proved to be correct. the cook bent over his brother and made a few rapid motions with his fingers. the seated man muttered something. again the cook's fingers moved. this time his brother answered more at length, and the cook walked in the direction of a small shed, motioning to the others to follow. nort and mr. hawkins trailed along behind. when they reached the shack the cook pointed to it. "in there?" the agent asked doubtfully. it didn't seen large enough to hold more than two men. it had probably been used to shelter a calf when the place had been run by a farmer. the mexican nodded. hawkins stepped to the small door and jerked it open. a bundled-up mass of humanity almost tumbled into his arms, and when they untangled themselves, there were not two chinese, but five! "how in thunderation did you all ever get in there?" nort inquired wonderingly. "hey, you! quiet down! we're not going to hurt you. what do you think this is, a circus? gee! they were like sardines!" the chinese were as excited as rabbits, and chattered away in evident fear. none of them spoke english, and it was some time before they could be made to understand that no harm was intended them. as the agent returned to the little group of wounded and others, he saw them centered about something and all talking at once. he quickened his pace and in a moment saw the cause of the commotion. "billee dobb!" he exclaimed. "golly, i'm glad to see you moving again! how did you get over here?" "dick and yellin' kid carried me," the veteran rancher answered with a smile. "like a silly baby! they jest lifted me up an' brung me along. said i had to see the last act, anyway." "how are you feeling?" hawkins asked anxiously. "i wanted to go to you soon as i heard about it, but i couldn't, billee." "sure, i know you couldn't. i was all right. dick stayed by me until i had to threaten him with a six-gun to get him to help you people. why, i'm feelin' o. k. now. jest got me in the shoulder. laid me out for a spell--i ain't as young as i was--why, i remember the time when i got an arrow full in the side--didn't phase me none--went right on and got the guy that shot it--i was a man in them days--i remember----" "now, billee, take it easy," bud said gently. "tell us all about it later. you got lots of time. thirsty?" "a leettle," the rancher replied with a sigh. bud leaned over and held his canteen to the other's lips. billee took a long drink and sighed again. "tired," he said weakly. "want to sleep." he lay back on the blanket. bud drew the edges over him and motioned the others away. "let him sleep. best thing in the world for him. we'll take him back later. i don't want to move him until that wound gets good and quiet." "what about these others?" nort inquired. "we want to get them out of the way. there are five men who can't walk. then there's two more who managed to get out without being burned. they're here too. we've got to get them all back some way. can't walk them, and we haven't enough horses. what do you think, mr. hawkins?" "let me see," the agent said. "it is a problem, nort. bud, have you a suggestion? the sooner we can get the bunch to town the quicker we'll get something hot to eat. and a little sleep wouldn't harm us any. think of anything, bud?" "well, if--" the boy stopped and listened intently. in the distance he heard the sounds of horses. then as they approached nearer the creaking noise of a wagon traveling fast came to him. the next moment all heard a voice yelling: "get along there, boys! watch it--watch it! pete, you spavin-back cayuse, come out of that! quit side-steppin'! at a baby--now yore goin'! out of that hole! out of it! pete! pete! you dog-eared knock-kneed bleary-eyed paint, if you don't swing wide i'll skin you alive! you, pete!" a rattling buckboard popped into view like the presiding genius of a jack-in-the-box. "it's our friend from town--from the store!" nort exclaimed. "yes, and look who's with him!" bud yelled. "it's dad! yea, dad! golly, i'm glad you came! you're just in time!" chapter xxv yellin' kid finds his bronc the wagon came to a sudden stop, and mr. merkel jumped out. "hello, son! howdy, boys! say--what happened here? bud--how did you get burned? you hurt?" there was a note of anxiety in the father's voice. "not a bit, dad! just blackened up a little. had a fire, and we had to pull some men out. look at that!" the boy pointed to the mass of embers that was once a house. the fire had died down until now there was only glowing bits of wood left. it had started quickly and ended as suddenly. "anybody seriously burned?" mr. merkel looked at his son keenly, as though to satisfy himself that he was uninjured. the father's glance evidently convinced him that bud was all right, for he turned quickly and said to the others: "where's billee dobb? i don't see him." "billee is the one who is really hurt, uncle," nort answered. "he's got a piece of lead in his shoulder. he's asleep now--be all right later, i think." "shot! the rascals! they'll suffer for that! you want to get billee to a doctor as soon as possible, before infection sets in. we'll bring him back in the wagon." "how did you happen to come here, dad?" bud asked curiously. "i didn't think you knew where we were." "i didn't, exactly. i have a confession to make, bud. you weren't sent out here to herd sheep. you were sent to do just what you did--to capture the smugglers." "but--but why didn't you tell us?" "i couldn't, bud. i gave my word to the government that i'd not let on the reason i was sending you out here. you see, no one could tell just what would happen. if you knew that you were sent to go after smugglers, and you went after the wrong gang, things would be in a pretty mess. so they concluded that it was best to leave you in the dark. i'll admit i favored telling you, boys, but as it turned out, the other way may have been best. even as it was, i let slip something about it. and when you weren't at the ranch i figured you might be in this direction. i sort of suspected this place. well, all's well that ends well. now what, boys?" "if we can get that wild buckboard man to drive slowly, we have a load of passengers to take back. oh, say, dad, do you know mr. hawkins? i don't know whether you--" bud paused suggestively. "yes, indeed," mr. merkel said with a smile. "we're old friends. he came to me long ago and arranged most of this scheme. sorry we had to do it, boys--but the government seems to know its business!" "i'm glad you look at it in that light, mr. merkel," the agent said as he shook hands. "we have to be very, very careful--and a slip that may seem trivial to others may mean success or failure to us. but let me say that these boys have more than come up to expectations. i have never seen a better----" "hey, hey, take it easy!" the kid laughed. "it might go to our heads. but one thing, mr. hawkins. it's about----" "i know--the reward! and you get it, too, boys. as soon as we get to town i'll give you a check that's in my office safe. you have certainly earned it." "now we can get a new bunch of longhorns!" shouted dick gleefully. "great stuff! that's worth going without a night's sleep for!" "and the radio," nort broke in. "we get that, too!" "you and your sparkin' outfit," yellin' kid scoffed. "you want music with your grub, i guess!" "say, mr. hawkins, what's the penalty for smuggling in this state?" bud inquired. "i just wondered----" "ten years," the agent answered briefly. "delton's due for quite a long stretch. he'll have time to think over his errors." "ten years," bud said musingly. "ten years in jail! mr. hawkins, if we testified that delton wasn't so bad as he's supposed to be, and that----" the boy stopped. hawkins looked at him long and hard. then he walked over and held out his hand. "son," he said simply, "that's the whitest thing i've ever seen a man do. i'll try to fix it up for you. we'll do what we can to lighten his sentence." "thanks," bud said gratefully. "well, when do we start?" mr. merkel asked. "if you men are hungry, we'd better get going. did i understand you to say we'd have a load going back, bud?" "and then some! now let's see how we can arrange this. billee dobb goes back in the buckboard. and so do the others who are badly hurt. how many do you think can ride, kid? you know we've got their horses at the back, and some can come along on them." "figure delton and two of those other guys should go in the wagon. the rest can fork the broncs. they're able. well, let's get those fellers that are going along with this wild man in the wagon. think you can take it easy a short spell?" yellin' kid asked the grinning driver. "sure! like an am-bu-lance. they'll never know they're ridin'." "all right. now about these chinks. guess they'll have to get along on the ponies." "but maybe they can't ride," nort suggested. "maybe they can't--but they're gonna take a lesson right now! their first an' last. let's get hold of billee an' lift him in the wagon. still asleep?" "yep. easy now. that does it----" as they raised the form of the old rancher he stirred uneasily. then he opened his eyes. "boss!" he exclaimed. "what do you think of me bein' carried around this way. wait a minute, boys, i can walk. i want to----" "you're to lay right still," admonished yellin' kid. "think we want you bleedin' all over the landscape? now go slow, an' mr. merkel will shake hands with you when we get you in the wagon." "how are you, billee?" the cattle owner asked warmly. "heard you had an accident! well, we'll feed you up good for a couple of days and you'll soon be on horseback again." "sure will! can't say i like this lyin' down idea. but the boys won't let me get up." the buckboard carrying billee and the other injured men went first, and the rest of the procession followed, with mr. hawkins and dick in the extreme rear, to see that everything went well. and thus they started for town. they had scarcely gotten under way when all heard the sound of a horse behind them. they turned and saw a riderless pony galloping toward them. "what the mischief--" bud cried out as he saw the horse nearing them. "he wants to visit! look--his halter has been broken. must be a runaway. i wonder----" "runaway nothin'!" yelled the kid. "he's comin' home! that's my bronc!" the horse made straight for yellin' kid. "look at that--knows me! well! well! well! come home to papa! my bronc, sure as you're a foot high! see that spot above his eye? i'd know it in a million! come here, baby--where you been? huh? i been lookin' all over for you." there was a sudden exclamation from one of the smugglers who was riding in front of the kid. "got away!" the man muttered. "thought i tied her----" "so-o-o you're the coot that had her, hey? an' you tied her up tight, hey? so she couldn't get loose? well, let me tell you that this little paint can bust _any_ halter, if she wants to. can't you, baby? by golly, i----" "sing it, kid, sing it!" dick laughed. "do you tuck her in bed at night, too?" "well, she's the best bronc i ever had!" the kid said definitely. "an' i'm goin' to ride her in. dick, hang on to this pony, will you? lead her in for me. well!" as he got into the saddle of his own mount. "here we are again, baby! now i won't need that other horse that you were goin' to get me, mr. hawkins. 'scuse me a minute, boys----" he threw the bronc into a gallop and tore across the plain. then he wheeled and came rushing back. "he's happy," nort said with a grin. "never expected to see his bronc again, and she runs right into his hands. hey, you--where did you keep her?" "around the side," the man who had spoken before answered with a scowl. "thought i might need her in a hurry. his horse, was it? well, he was ridin' mine. a fair exchange is no robbery. now he's got her back he's got no kick comin'." "hasn't, hey? don't know about that. if he finds any marks on her----" "she wasn't touched," the man said quickly. "fast enough without that." "lucky for you," nort commented, meaningly. after his mad dash the kid returned in easier fashion. and so the strange procession wended its way back to roaring river. it took them rather a long time to get there, as the buckboard had to be driven slowly on account of the injured. true to his promise, the young "wild man" held his verbally much-abused horses down to a walk. the smugglers were removed to jail, with the assurance from the warden that those who were injured would be treated by a local doctor. the chinese were also jailed, to be held for the federal officers. deportment, first back to mexico, and, eventually, back to china was their portion. they seemed to realize it, for they were a sad and silent bunch. billee dobb was given a room to himself in the ranch house where he could rest and get well, and then the others washed up and "filled up," as nort expressed it. "now comes the reward," said mr. hawkins, and he arranged to have it paid to the boy ranchers, with yellin' kid and billee dobb sharing in it. there was an additional reward for capturing the smuggled chinese as well as the smugglers, so there was a fund large enough for all to share. "let's go up and see billee now," proposed bud, when they had eaten and quieted down. they found the old rancher restlessly picking at the coverlet of his bed, his weather-tanned face in strange contrast to the white pillow cases. as the boys and mr. merkel entered, billee grinned. "fust time i ever been t' bed by daylight in seventeen years," he said. "don't know what to do with myself. now if snake purdee was only here, he could----" "an' here i am!" exclaimed a voice outside the door. "hello, billee! heard you was receivin' callers an' i came right over. what'll you have--a song? all right, boys--come on in! billee wants us to sing for him!" into the room shuffled billee's companions of diamond x: slim degnan, fat milton, and the rest. "hello, billee!" "howdy, you old de-teck-a-tive you!" "how's it feel to be a hero?" "now boys--are you ready? ta da--let's go!" they all joined in the song. and as billee dobb "smiled a smile" that reached to the corners of the room, the notes of "bury me not on the lone prairie, with variations," filled the house and flowed over into the outer air. and billee dobb just lay there, smiling and smiling. as for the boy ranchers--they were happy, too. they had done a good job. they had covered themselves with glory. "and maybe there are other jobs ahead," remarked bud. the end the rover boys on the plains or the mystery of red rock ranch by arthur m. winfield grosset & dunlap publishers copyright by the mershon company contents chapter i. on the houseboat ii. the big lumber raft iii. a "pepper" ghost iv. trouble with negroes v. dan baxter appears vi. the effects of a big storm vii. a day on the road viii. fun at the hotel ix. hans as a poet x. a twenty-dollar bill xi. a midnight scare xii. the runaway steer xiii. jim jones, the cowboy xiv. out of an unpleasant situation xv. something of a mystery xvi. a scene from a treetop xvii. the bank bills on the table xviii. dick and sam become prisoners xix. peter poll, the dolt xx. an offer from the enemy xxi. through the forest xxii. in a snakes' den xxiii. james monday takes a hand xxiv. tom carries a letter xxv. in which tom is exposed xxvi. together once more xxvii. the burning of the ranch xxviii. from one surprise to another xxix. on the trail once more xxx. a round-up--conclusion introduction my dear boys: "the rover boys on the plains" is a complete story in itself, but forms the tenth volume of a line known under the general title of "the rover boys' series for young americans." ten volumes make a great number, and, as i look back, i wonder how i have been able to write so many. as i have said before, when i started this series i had in mind to pen three volumes and possibly a fourth. but no sooner had "the rover boys at school," "the rover boys on the ocean," "the rover boys in the jungle" and "the rover boys out west" appeared than there was a demand for another volume, and then more, and so i have had to take the boys from time to time, "on the great lakes," "in the mountains," "on land and sea," "in camp" and "on the river," where we last left them. the present tale tells of adventures on the mighty mississippi river, and then on the great plains, where dick, tom and sam, and some of their friends, have a variety of adventures and assist in unraveling the mystery surrounding a lonely ranch. of course, their old enemy, baxter, is bound to make himself known, but the rover boys do not fail to take care of themselves, as of old. again, i thank the many thousands who have shown their appreciation of my efforts to amuse and instruct them. i earnestly hope the present volume will not disappoint them. affectionately and sincerely yours, arthur m. winfield. the rover boys on the plains chapter i on the houseboat "say, tom, what's that big thing coming down the river?" "i'm sure i don't know, sam. it's big enough to be a house." replied tom rover. "maybe it is a house," came from dick rover, who was standing beside his brothers on the rear deck of the houseboat which was taking them down the mississippi river. "a house?" broke in a distinctly german voice. "did you mean to said dere vos a house floating der rifer town, dick rofer?" "why not, hansy, my boy?" replied fun-loving tom rover, before his big brother could answer. "hasn't a house got a right to take a float if it wants to? perhaps it's out for its health." "ach, you vos choking, tom!" cried hans mueller. "of a house been der rifer on, dere peen somedings wrong mit him alretty." "it's a lumber raft, hans," said dick. "and a whopping big one, too," he added, as he took another look at the object that was approaching the houseboat. "hope it doesn't give us such a close shave as that raft we met two days ago," said sam anxiously. "i was almost certain they were going to run into us." "they have got no business to run so close to this houseboat," grumbled tom. "they know well enough that we can't turn out of our course very well. i think some of those lumbermen are the toughest kind of citizens." "if they get too close, i'll shout a warning through the megaphone," went on dick, after a brief pause. "it certainly does look as if they intended to crowd us," he continued anxiously. "oh, dick, do you think there is any danger?" came from a girl who had just joined the crowd. "not yet, dora." "perhaps we had better run in close to shore until the raft has passed," continued dora stanhope, with an anxious look in her pretty eyes. "don't do it!" cried tom. "we have as much right to the river as they have. tell 'em to keep their distance, dick." "i shall--when they get close enough." "if that raft hits our houseboat, we'll be smashed to kindling wood," was sam's comment. "i'd rather they'd give us a wide berth." the rover brothers were three in number, dick being the oldest, fun-loving tom coming next and sam coming last. when at home, they lived with their father and their uncle and aunt at valley brook farm, pleasantly located in the heart of new york state. from this farm they had been sent to putnam hall, as related in the first volume of this series, entitled, "the rover boys at school." at this institution of learning they had made a large number of friends, and also some enemies. a short term at putnam hall had been followed by a chase on the ocean and then a trip to the jungles of africa, in search of mr. anderson rover, who has disappeared. then came a trip out west and one on the great lakes, followed by some adventures during a winter in the mountains. after being in the mountains, the rover boys had expected to go back to school, but a scarlet fever scare closed the institution, and they took a trip to the pacific, as related in "the rover boys on land and sea," the seventh volume of this series. they were cast away on an island and had many thrilling adventures, but escaped, to receive a warm welcome when they arrived home. the scarlet fever scare was now a thing of the past, and the boys went back to putnam hall, to participate in the annual encampment, as told of in "the rover boys in camp." here they had plenty of sport, and the outing was voted "the best ever." what to do during the summer vacation was a question quickly settled by the brothers. their uncle, randolph rover, had taken a houseboat for debt, and it was voted to go aboard this craft, which was located on the ohio river, and take a trip down that stream, and also down the mighty mississippi. "it will be the outing of our lives," said tom. "we can just take it easy, and float, and float, and float." the arrangements for the outing were quickly completed. with the rover boys went their old school chums, "songbird" powell, who was always making up doggerel which he called poetry; hans mueller, already introduced, and fred garrison. the houseboat was a large one, and to make the trip more pleasant, the boys invited two ladies to go along, mrs. stanhope and mrs. laning. with mrs. stanhope came her only daughter, dora, whom dick rover thought the nicest girl in the world, and with mrs. laning came her daughters, nellie and grace, intimate friends of tom and sam. as those who have already read "the rover boys on the river" know, the trip on the houseboat started pleasantly enough. but, before long, one of their old enemies, dan baxter, turned up, accompanied by an evil-minded boy named lew flapp. these fellows succeeded in making prisoners of dora stanhope and nellie laning, and ran off with the houseboat. but they were followed by the rovers and their friends, and, in the end, the girls were rescued, the houseboat recovered and lew flapp was made a prisoner, to be sent east to stand trial for his various misdeeds. dan baxter escaped, and for the time being there was no telling what had become of him. but he was destined to show up again, as the chapters to follow will prove. after the houseboat was once again in the possession of the rovers and their guests, there was a general jollification on board, lasting several days. all felt much relieved, to think that matters had turned out so well for them. "we are well out of that mess," had been dick rover's comment. "and i hope we never get into such another," answered dora stanhope. "i was really frightened to death when i was a prisoner." "i would feel a great deal better if dan baxter had been captured." "oh, dick, do you think he will try to harm us further?" and dora's face paled a trifle. "well, he seems to be like a bad penny--he turns up when you least expect it." "anyway, he won't have flapp to aid him." "that is true. but i never feared flapp--he was too much of a coward at heart." "then you do fear baxter, dick?" and dora looked at her best friend curiously. "it's not exactly that, dora. i don't want you to have any trouble. i don't care for myself." "i shall do my best to keep out of his way. what a pity it is that baxter can not turn over a new leaf." "it isn't in him to do so," put in fred garrison, who had come up. "but his father has reformed," said dora. "i really think dan is worse than his father," returned dick. "there is a certain viciousness about him that is lacking in his father's make-up." "dan baxter doesn't believe in forgiving or forgetting an injury," put in sam, who had joined the crowd. "once, after something went wrong, he said he'd get square if it took a hundred years. i believe he remembers that injury yet." "he might do well, if he'd only settle down to something," said fred. "he isn't dumb, by any means." "he is not smart, only cunning, fred," answered dick. "in regular business i don't believe he'd ever make his salt." "do you think he is still following the houseboat?" was the question put by songbird powell. "i can't say as to that. if he is, he must hustle pretty lively, for we are now making a good many miles a day." after this conversation, the days had gone by swiftly and pleasantly enough. soon the broad ohio river was left behind, and the houseboat started down the mississippi. stops were made at various points, and the young folks, as well as the two ladies, enjoyed themselves to the utmost. they had a few friends in the south, and, when-ever they stopped off to see these, they were treated with great cordiality. "no more troubles of any kind for us," said sam one day, but he was mistaken. that very afternoon a lumber raft came close to hitting the houseboat, frightening all who chanced to be on the deck at the time. "phew!" was tom's comment. "no more such close shaves for me. that raft might have smashed us to smithereens!" two days went by, and the boys and girls enjoyed themselves by going fishing and by watching the sights on the river and along the shore. the weather was ideal for the outing, and they had not a care until the second big lumber raft came into sight, as mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, and threatened, as the first had done, to run them down. chapter ii the big lumber raft "py chiminy! dot raft vos coming dis vay so sure like nefer vos!" cried hans mueller, after an anxious moment had passed. "we ought to warn 'em off with a shot-gun," growled tom. "even if they don't hit us, they haven't any right to make my hair stand up like quills on the fretful porcupine." "vot has der porkerpint to do mit your hair?" questioned hans innocently. "you'll soon find out--if that lumber raft hits us, hansy. got your life insured?" "mine life insured?" "that's it. if you haven't, better take out a policy for 'steen dollars and some cents, payable at nine cents a week in advance." "tom, this is no joking matter," broke in dick. "be quiet, till i use the megaphone." "dot's it!" cried hans. "use dot magnify-phone by all means." there was a fair-sized megaphone on the houseboat, used to call to persons on shore, if necessary, and, bringing this out, the eldest rover placed it to his mouth. "on board the lumber raft!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "sheer off! don't run us down!" "we are not running you down," was the surly answer from a man at the front of the raft. "yes, you are, and we want you to keep off." "go on in toward the west shore and you will be all right," said the man. he was a burly looking individual, with an unusually long nose. by this time the lumber raft was sweeping closer. the raft and the houseboat were moving in the same direction, and this kept them for the time being apart. "if you don't keep off, there will be trouble," cried sam. "oh, you boys dry up!" was the reply from the man with the long nose, and now they recognized him as a fellow they had met in a hotel at their last stopping place. the man had had a row with a porter, and had made himself generally disagreeable. the houseboat was under the immediate command of captain starr. the captain, a rather strange individual, was not feeling very well, and had gone off to take a nap. now it was thought best by all to call him. "the overgrown wood-choppers!" growled the captain as soon as he had come out on deck and taken in the situation. "sheer off!" he yelled. "do you hear?" "turn in toward shore," was the answering cry. "we can't--it's too shallow." "is it really too shallow?" asked dick. "i think so. we are not in the channel as it is." "i'm going to get a gun," came from tom, and off he rushed to secure the firearm. the raft had now swept so close that several on board could be seen plainly. they were a rough-looking sort, and the man with the long nose was the shrewdest of the lot. "we'll have to turn in, or we'll be hit!" ejaculated sam. "those side logs are bound to strike the cabin!" he pointed to some timbers that projected over the edge of the raft. they were only a few feet off and might crash into the cabin of the houseboat at any moment. in anger at being forced to change his course, captain starr turned the houseboat toward the bank of the river. then the big raft began to pass them, just as tom reappeared, shotgun in hand. "i ought to have you arrested for this!" stormed captain starr. his words were always louder than his actions. "bah!" answered the man with the long nose, in derision. "maybe you'd like to have a taste of this?" put in tom, holding up the gun. "don't you dare to shoot!" yelled the man, and lost no time in sliding from his seat and out of sight. at that moment those on the houseboat felt a slight shock, and then the craft's headway was checked. "what's up now?" cried dick. "we're aground, that's what's the matter," muttered captain starr. "those rascals ought to suffer for this!" in a moment more the big raft had passed the houseboat. the latter now began to swing around with the current. "i hope we are not stuck in the mud for good," grumbled fred garrison. "look! look!" burst from sam's lips. he was pointing to the raft. "what's up now?" came from several of the others. "unless i am mistaken, dan baxter is on that raft." "baxter!" exclaimed tom. "yes." "where?" "he was sitting on that pile of boards in the rear. as soon as he saw me, he slid out of sight." "are you sure it was baxter?" questioned songbird powell. "if it wasn't him, it was his double." "if it was baxter, we ought to try to catch him," suggested fred. "i don't see how we are going to catch anybody just now," sighed dick. "we are stuck hard and fast." "oh, dick, are we really aground?" questioned dora. "we are that," said captain starr. "is there any danger?" asked nellie laning, who had joined the others, accompanied by her sister grace. "no immediate danger, miss. it depends on whether we can get off or not." "we'll have to get off," said tom decidedly. "rub a dub dub! we're stuck in the mud as hard as hard can be! shall we ever, or shall we never, set the houseboat free?" came softly from songbird powell. "great caesar, that's a fine thing to make a rhyme about," returned sam reproachfully. "let's make songbird wade out in the mud and shove us off," suggested tom, with a wink at his companions. "wade out in the mud?" cried the youth who was given to rhymes. "not much!" "mud bath is the finest thing in the world, songbird," went on tom. "bound to cure hay fever, warts, squint-eye and lots of things." "then you go take it yourself," murmured songbird. "we'll have to get out the rowboat and see if we can't pull her off," said captain starr. "yes, and the sooner the better," said dick. "if we wait, we may get harder aground than ever." it did not take long to let the rowboat over the side of the _dora_, as the houseboat was named. then dick, sam, tom and fred got in to do the rowing, while the others remained on the houseboat, to try what they could do toward poling off. a line was made fast between the rowboat and the _dora_, and the boys began to pull away with might and main. "is she moving?" asked dick, after several minutes of hard pulling. "not yet," answered captain starr. "keep at it, though." "let us shift some of the heavy things on board," suggested songbird, and this was done. then the boys rowed with all their might and those on the houseboat used their poles to the best advantage. "hurrah! she vos coming!" shouted hans. "dot's der time vot you did sometings, ain't it!" "keep at it, boys!" came from the captain. "we'll be all right in a few minutes more." "mind you, we don't want to tow the houseboat down to new orleans," said tom, who was perspiring freely in the warm sun. "there she goes!" came a moment later. "we are all right now," and a little hurrah went up. "i wish i had those lumbermen here--i'd give 'em a bit of my mind," said sam, who felt tired out from the hard rowing. "it was all their fault." "of course, it was their fault," answered dick. "more than likely, though, we'll never meet them again." "what an awfully long nose one of them had." "i don't believe that fellow was a lumberman. he wasn't dressed like the others and didn't act like them." the rowboat was soon placed aboard of the houseboat once more, and the _dora_ continued on her course down the river. all told, a half hour had been lost, and the lumber raft was scarcely a speck in the distance. "i'd like to know for certain if that was dan baxter on board," said dick to sam. "if it was, and he saw us, he'll do his best to make trouble again." "well, the best we can do, dick, is to keep our eyes open." "do you think that lumber raft will tie up somewhere below here?" asked tom. "the raft is certain to tie up somewhere, tom. but it may go a good many miles before that happens," answered the eldest rover; and there the subject was for the time being dropped. chapter iii a "pepper" ghost mrs. stanhope and mrs. laning had been taking a nap, and they were much interested when they awoke and learned of what had occurred. "let us be thankful that the raft did not run us down," said dora's mother, who was a widow. "it was mean to make us run aground," was mrs. laning's comment. "some folks try their best to get others into trouble." "that fellow with the long nose got out of sight in a hurry when he saw the shotgun," observed tom. "oh, tom, you wouldn't have shot him, would you?" cried nellie. "i only meant to scare him. but, if they had really run us down, i don't know what i would have done." it was not long after this that the lumber raft passed entirely out of their sight. gradually the talk changed, and all began to wonder where they were to tie up for the night. "i did hope to reach masterville," said captain starr. "but i don't think we can make it." "do we need anything in particular in the shape of provisions?" asked dick. "i don't think so. you might ask aleck." the person referred to was a colored man who was in the employ of the rovers, and had been with the boys on many of their outings. his full name was alexander pop, and he thought the world and all of dick, tom and sam. "hullo, aleck!" called out dick, going to the cook's galley. "yes, sah! comin', sah!" was the answer, and in an instant aleck's smiling ebony face showed itself at the doorway. "have we got enough provisions on hand until to-morrow?" "yes, sah." "then we won't have to go ashore for anything?" "no, sah; less yo' want sumfing very special," and the colored man grinned. "are you going to give us a pretty good supper, aleck?" asked tom, walking up. "lamb chops, sah, an' green peas, sweet potatoes, an' cake an' cut-up peaches." "that's first-rate, aleck," said dick, smiling. "any quail on toast?" asked tom. "no, sah." "any bear steaks, or salmon eggs?" "ain't seen none ob dem t'ings yet, massa tom." "how about butterflies' wings on toast?" "wha--what's dat?" "or milkweed stewed in onion fat?" went on tom earnestly. "gracious sakes alive, sah! i didn't know dat--" "or firefly fritters, aleck. don't you love fire-fly fritters, especially when they are rolled in lemon skin and cheese?" "say, massa tom, ain't you a-foolin' dis darkey?" "fooling? why, aleck, you know i never fool." tom gave a sigh. "that's the way of the world, when a fellow is trying to do his best." and he walked off, leaving the faithful aleck staring after him doubtfully. but soon the colored man began to smile to himself. "dat's some moah ob his jokes, dat's what dat is," he murmured. "dat boy couldn't lib, 'less he was playin' a joke on sumbody!" the houseboat had now gained a portion of the river where the shore was lined with a beautiful forest, and, as the sun began to set over the treetops, all came out on the deck to enjoy the scene. "if it wasn't for the troubles we have encountered, this would be an ideal trip," said dora, as she stood by dick's side. "let us forget the troubles, dora," said the youth softly, and gave her hand a little squeeze. "i am so glad you are with us. if you weren't, i think it would be rather lonely for me." "oh, dick, you mustn't talk so," cried the girl, and blushed. but she was pleased, nevertheless. just where the forest ended there was a point of land stretching out into the river, and there it was decided to tie up for the night. an early supper was had, and then about half of the party went ashore--dick and dora to take a stroll in the moonlight, and tom, sam and some of the others to do a little exploring. "the forest looks a little bit spooky," said fred, as they walked along. "spooky?" came scornfully from songbird powell. "why, it's grand--fairly breathing the essence of poetry," and then he continued: "down in the depths of a forest grand, where many a hoary tree doth stand, and many a little babbling brook gives music to each shady nook, 'tis there i love a walk to take--" "and step upon a rattlesnake." finished tom. "better keep your eyes open, songbird, or the rattlers will be after you. they love music and poetry, you know." "rattlesnakes! horrible!" shuddered songbird. "that's enough to drive the poetry out of a fellow for a week." "do you think there are any rattlers here?" asked sam. "i ton't vos afraid of raddlesnakes alretty," put in hans. "i vos know a fine vay to kill dem," and his mild eyes began to twinkle. "what's the way, hans?" asked tom. "first, you got some poison in a pottle." "yes." "den you go py der voots till you come py mr. raddlesnake." "all right, proceed." "den you got dot mr. raddlesnake py der neck, oben his mouth und put der boison on der insides. in an hour, mr. raddlesnake vos so dead like nefer vos alretty." "sold! that's the time hans caught you, tom!" exclaimed sam, and set up a roar. "yah, i vos chust vaiting to cotch you, tom," and now the german youth joined in the hilarity. "all right, that's one on me," said tom. "my move next," he added, but under his breath. "there's a rattlesnake now!" yelled fred a moment later, and all gave a jump, hans as lively as the rest. but it was only a small reptile, and harmless, and quickly disappeared from view. in a clearing, the boys built a fire, and sat around this, telling stories and talking over the events of the day. from one thing and another the conversation gradually drifted around to ghosts, and fred told a ghost story that was thrilling in the extreme. "don't you believe in ghosts, hans?" questioned sam. "not much, i ton't," answered the german youth. "da vos all humbugs alretty." "then you wouldn't run if you saw a ghost?" queried songbird. "not von sthep," said hans positively. this talk set tom to thinking, and on the way back to the houseboat he called sam to his side. "i've got an idea." "what is it?" questioned his brother. "you heard what hans said about ghosts?" "to be sure i did." "well, i've got an idea for some fun." "good for you, tom." "we'll fix up a ghost." "oh, that's old." "so it is; but this particular kind of ghost isn't old." "what is it to be?" "one full of pepper." "pepper?" "exactly. and when hans hammers it--why, look out, that's all." the matter was talked over for a few minutes, and sam readily fell in with his brother's ideas. reaching the houseboat, the pair went to one of the staterooms and procured a sheet and a bolster. then tom ran off to the galley and obtained a box full of pepper. the pepper was sprinkled over the sheet and the bolster. "now, we'll take the outfit to hans' room," said tom, and this was done without the german youth being aware of what was taking place. the others were then let into the plot, and just before retiring tom called hans to one side. "hans, i want to give you a tip," he whispered tragically. "vot for?" "some of the fellows are going to scare you. they have fixed up a ghost in your room." "is dot so?" "when you go to bed, don't be frightened." "not much i von't pe, tom. maype i vos hammer dot ghost, hey?" "that's the talk. take a switch along and lock your door. then you can switch the ghost good." "ha! ha! dot's a goot blan," roared the german youth. "maype somepody ton't cotch him!" a few minutes after that, the boys and the others separated for the night, and hans retired to his own stateroom. as it was bright moonlight, no lights had been lit, nor did the german youth make any. tom had deceived him completely, and behind his back he carried a heavy switch. he intended to "lather" the ghost good before giving the joker, whoever he might be, a chance to get away. as he closed the door, he caught sight of something white and ghost-like standing near the head of his berth. he shut the door softly and locked it. "oh, my!" he cried. "a ghost! a ghost!" and then he raised his switch and brought it down on the white object with all his might. blow after blow was delivered in rapid succession, for he wanted to get in as many cracks as possible before the joker should expose himself. "dere you vos, you pad ghost!" he cried. "i dink you vos--" at this point hans stopped short. something had entered his nose--something that tickled exceedingly. "ker-chew! ker-chew!" he sneezed. "vot is--ker-chew! i dink--ker-chew! oh, my! ker-chew! i vos schneeze mine head--ker-chew! stop dot, somepody--ker-chew! oh, dear--kerchew! oben der door--ker-chew!" blinded, and sneezing violently, hans dropped his switch and made for the door. throwing it wide open, he ran out to get some pure air, for the stateroom was filled with floating pepper. "i fix somepody for dis--ker-chew!" he roared. "chust vait, you chokers!" then he caught sight of tom, who stood nearby, grinning. "dot vos your drick!" he went on. "chust you come here!" "thank you, not to-night, hansy, my dear boy," said the joker, keeping at a safe distance. "vell, den, you go 'long mit your old ghost," went on hans, and, picking up the peppered bolster and sheet, he threw them into tom's room, where the fun-loving youth had the pleasure of disposing of the mess as best he could. chapter iv trouble with negroes "the rolling, the rolling, the rolling river for me! the rolling river, the rolling river, that carries us down to the sea!" so sang songbird powell the next morning when he came out on deck after a refreshing night's rest. "songbird, you're a regular lark," remarked dick. "i feel like one," was the answer. "who wouldn't feel good on such a glorious morning as this?" "maype you didn't haf some ghosts drouble you?" put in hans with a grin. "forget it, hans," answered dick. "it's too fine a morning to think of ghosts." it was indeed a glorious morning, clear and balmy. the ladies of the party were much pleased, and so were the girls. all gathered on the deck to take in the sights before breakfast was announced by aleck. a big schooner was passing with all sails set, and, not long after this, a large steamer, bound up the mississippi, hove into sight. "now, we'll get some big swells," remarked sam, and he was right. soon the houseboat began to rock in a fashion that pleased the boys, but alarmed the girls. "when the houseboat rocks like that, i'm always afraid we'll be swamped," said grace. "there is little danger of that," said captain starr. "the wash would have to be much heavier before it could do any damage." the morning passed pleasantly enough. the ladies spent the time over their fancy work, while the girls and boys read, played games and also sang and played. there was a piano on the _dora_, and the boys had a guitar and a banjo along. they were at dinner and discussing their next stopping place, when, without warning, there came a shock that threw aleck flat on the floor, with a trayful of cup-custards over him. "fo' de lan' sake!" gasped the colored man. "has we struck a stone wall?" "whow!" ejaculated fred, who had had some hot coffee spilled on his knee. "this isn't pleasant, i can tell you." dick was already running on deck, and the others followed. they saw that captain starr's face was full of concern. not another craft of any kind was in sight, and they were a good two hundred feet from shore. "didn't we strike something, captain?" asked the eldest rover. "reckon we did, sir," was the answer. "what?" "a sunken tree, most likely. they are the worst things to be met with on the mississippi. more than one boat has been sunk by a hidden tree trunk." "did the snag poke a hole into us?" asked tom. "if it did, we had better make for shore." "i'll look around and see," said the captain, and did so, accompanied by the boys and aleck. for the time being, dinner was forgotten. fortunately, no great damage had been done. one side board had been loosened, but this was easily nailed tight, and then the houseboat proceeded on her way as before. "i've heard of boats being wrecked by these snags," said songbird. "one boat i was on, some fifteen years ago, was wrecked that way," said captain starr. "she was running at full speed, when we struck a big tree that had rather a sharp point. the point ran through into the cabin and killed two people, and the boat sank in ten minutes." "excuse me from such a disaster as that," was fred's comment, while nellie, who had heard the story, shuddered. that evening, they tied up close to the village of canston. not far south was a large plantation, employing a great number of negroes, and some of these came down to take a look at the houseboat. as soon as the _dora_ was tied up, captain starr made a thorough examination of the craft, to make certain that she had received no injury below the water-line. dick accompanied him, and so did songbird. "she is o. k.," announced the captain. "there isn't a leak as big as a flea anywhere." aleck, tom and sam went down into the village to procure some stores for the houseboat, and while there learned that there had been a row at the plantation and two negroes had been seriously hurt. as a consequence of the quarrel, one burly negro called watermelon pete had run away. "he's a bad egg, that watermelon pete," said the storekeeper in speaking of the affair. "i wish he'd leave this locality for good." when the boys got back to the houseboat, they found the others hunting all over the _dora_ with lanterns. "what are you looking for?" asked tom. "grace thinks she saw a big negro come on board," answered dick. "we are trying to root him out." the houseboat was searched from end to end, but nothing could be discovered of any intruder. "must have sneaked off again," said sam. "if he did, i hope he didn't steal anything." "we'll keep our eyes open after this," said captain starr. the night passed quietly enough, but, for some reason she could not explain, grace awoke long before the others. she tried to go to sleep again, but, finding that a failure, dressed and went out on the deck. she had been out only a few minutes, when, on walking past the dining-room window, she saw a sight that filled her with amazement. by the closet was a burly negro, filling a carpetbag with silverware! "oh!" she cried. "stop that!" at the sound of her voice, the burly negro turned and scowled viciously at her. "yo' dun keep quiet!" he said in a low, intense voice. "i shall not," answered grace. "help, some-body!" she called. "hush up, yo'!" fairly hissed the burly intruder, and sprang for the doorway. in another moment he had grace by the arm. "don't yo' make anudder sound, or yo'll git sumfing yo' won't lak!" "oh!" gasped the poor girl. she wanted to say more, but the words stuck in her throat. the negro still, held her, and his grasp was like that of steel. "are yo' gwine to shut up?" asked the intruder. "le--let me go, please!" "ain't gwine to let yer go. be still now, heah?" grace did hear, and, as the negro glowered at her, her heart almost stopped beating. she gazed around, and so did the negro. not another person was in sight. "come into de room," went on the negro after a painful pause, and he literally dragged her forward to the door. "if yo' be still, yo' won't git hurt." holding her with one hand, he continued to fill his carpetbag with the other. spoons, knives and forks were rapidly stowed away, and they were followed by some napkin rings and other articles of value. as the negro worked, grace recovered some of her self-possession. she did not dare to cry out, and tried to think of some other method of arousing the others on the boat. her eyes fell upon a bell pull hanging from the wall and, on the sly, she gave it a violent jerk. the rope connected with a bell in the cook's galley. this was close to where aleck was sleeping, and it caused the cook to arouse with a start. "dis chile mus' hab done overslept hisself," he exclaimed, and then, as the bell rang once more, he sprang up in a hurry. "sumt'ing wrong, dat's suah as yo're boahn!" throwing himself into some of his clothing, he ran out on deck and to the dining-room. one glance was enough, and he raised a shout which aroused everybody on the houseboat. the shout told the intruder that his game was up, and, carpetbag in hand, he started to run away. but aleck put out his foot, and the other negro went sprawling at full length. "yo' stay right dar!" roared aleck pop wrathfully. "don't yo' 'tempt to git away, nohow, 'less yo' want to go to yo' own funeral." "yo' ain't gwine ter stop me!" yelled the thief, and sprang up, hurling the cook to one side. then he started for the shore. by this time sam was coming out of his state-room. he saw the fleeing negro and made after him, catching the rascal just as he was about to leap ashore. "not so fast!" he sang out, and caught him by the arm. "yo' can't hole me!" stormed the burly fellow, and tried to twist himself loose. but, before he could break away, captain starr was at hand, quickly followed by tom and hans. "vot's der madder, vos he a robber?" asked hans. "schoot him der sphot on!" "git back, dar, i'se a dangerous coon!" ejaculated the burly negro, and suddenly produced a big revolver of the old civil war kind. "don't dare lay han's on me ag'in!" at the sight of the pistol, all fell back, and in a twinkling the negro was over the side and running for the nearest patch of woods. "let us go after him," said dick, and the others agreed. but pursuit was useless, the burly negro was gone. later they learned that he was watermelon pete, the rascal who had gotten into a row at the nearby plantation. "are you hurt, grace?" was sam's first question after the chase had come to an end. "no, but that colored man nearly scared the life out of me," she answered, and then told her story. "i wonder if we'll ever see him again," said fred. "most likely not," answered dick. but he was mistaken. he was to meet watermelon pete, and under circumstances as surprising as any that he had yet encountered. "well, there is one satisfaction," remarked songbird. "he didn't get away with any of the stuff." "no, but he mussed de dinin'-room all up!" growled aleck. "an' dat silber has got to be shined up ag'in befoah we kin use it." during the day, several half-intoxicated colored men came on board of the _dora_ and made it decidedly unpleasant for all hands. "we may as well get out of here," said dick, and the others agreed with him. two negroes were on board at the time, and captain starr ordered them ashore. "give us some rum, an' we'll go," answered one of them impudently. "you're going, and without any rum!" cried dick wrathfully, and ran the colored man to the gangplank. sam and tom caught hold of the other colored man and did likewise. "let go ob me!" roared one of the fellows, and then both of them began to struggle and use language not fit for polite ears to hear. "dump them into the river--the bath will do them good," suggested songbird, and in a trice this was accomplished, and both went down with a loud splash. by the time they had managed to crawl to the shore through the mud, the houseboat was a good distance out into the stream. the negroes shouted and shook their fists, but the rovers and their friends, and even aleck, laughed at them. "dem fool niggers don't know nuffin'," growled the cook. "i'se 'shamed ob 'em, i is!" "perhaps they won't be so fresh when another houseboat comes along," said fred. "or else they'll do their best to get square," put in tom. the journey down the river was continued, and soon the plantation and the village were left far in the distance. chapter v dan baxter appears two days later found the houseboat moored to one of the docks at a small city in arkansas. it was a bustling place of perhaps four thousand inhabitants and commanded a fair river trade. the whole party was willing enough to go ashore, and the rover boys hired several carriages, in which all were driven around to various points of interest. "i'll tell you what i wouldn't mind doing," said sam, while driving around. "i'd like to get on horseback and take a trip out on the plains." "perhaps we can do that before this trip comes to an end," answered dick. "you must remember, we have a good part of our outing before us." there was a parade in the town that day, and they watched this with interest. then the girls and the ladies went back to the houseboat, leaving the boys to continue their rambles. "i see some lumber rafts here," said sam. "i wonder if that one stopped here that tried to run us down?" "it might be," answered fred. dick was out buying some special supplies, and his errand took him to a quarter of the town which was by no means of the better sort. as he hurried along, he heard several voices in dispute. "you must settle that bill at the hotel," a heavy voice was saying. "you can't leave us until you do settle," said a second voice. "i paid my bill! i am not going to pay for you--i didn't invite you to come with me," came from a third person. dick thought he recognized that voice, and, looking in the direction, was astonished to see dan baxter. the bully was in the hands of two lumbermen, who held him by the arm. "he must be in trouble," thought dick, and he was right. soon the dispute waxed hot, and one of the men hit baxter in the face. "stop that!" cried dick, running up. "stop it, i say!" at the sound of his voice, the men started back in alarm. "he must be the new sheriff," whispered one. "they say he looks like a boy!" "then we had better light out," said the second lumberman, and on the instant both took to their heels and disappeared around a corner. when dick reached dan baxter's side, he found the former bully of putnam hall pale and much agitated. he, too, wanted to run away, but dick held him. "so we meet again, baxter?" "let go of me!" growled the bully. "what are you doing here?" "that's my business." "what were the men doing?" "they wanted me to pay their hotel bill for them, but i didn't propose to do it." "do you know that lew flapp is under arrest?" "i don't care." "i think i'll have to have you arrested, too." "not much, dick rover!" "you came down the river on that big lumber raft, didn't you?" "what if i did?" "those rascals did their best to run us down." "ha! ha! they gave you a fine scare, didn't they?" and the bully laughed boisterously. "did the raft stop here?" "no, but i did." "well, you had better come with me, dan." "where to?" "the lock-up." "never!" the big bully drew back. "you let me alone." dick caught hold of baxter once more, but now the bully hauled off and hit him a stinging blow on the chin. the eldest rover retaliated by a blow that blackened the bully's left eye. then they clinched and rolled on the ground. "hi, what's the matter here?" called out a planter, running up at this moment. "he is a thief!" cried dan baxter. "take him off of me!" "a thief, eh?" said the planter, and he caught dick by the arm. "come, let him up, you rascal!" he was a powerful man, and hauled dick back with ease. in a trice dan baxter scrambled up and drew back a few paces. "i'll get an officer," he called out, and ran off, to disappear down an alleyway between a group of negro shanties. "come after him," said dick. "he is the real thief. you have blundered." "you can't fool me, suh," said the planter firmly.-- "what, won't you come after him?" "nary a step. i allow i know a thief when i see one." "do you mean that for me?" "i surtainly do, suh." "well, you're a big fool, that's all i have to say," cried dick, and, watching his chance, he got out of the planter's clutches and ran after dan baxter. the chase led into the worst portion of the town, but dick did not give up until a good hour had passed. then he returned to the houseboat much downcast, and told his story. "and the worst of it is, my watch is missing," he announced. "perhaps you dropped it during the struggle," suggested songbird. "either that, or dan baxter got his fist on it while we were talking. he is bad enough now to do almost anything." "better go back and see if you can't find the watch," said tom. "i'll go with you." they walked to the spot and made a thorough search, but the watch failed to come to light. dick gave a long sigh. "i'm out that timepiece, and i guess for good," he murmured. they were about to return to the houseboat, when dick saw the planter approaching once more. "ha, so you have come back, suh!" he cried. "did you see anything of my watch?" remanded dick sharply. "your watch?" "yes; it's gone." "i saw nothing of a watch." "i suppose that other fellow came back with an officer, didn't he?" went on the eldest rover sarcastically. "i did not--ah--see him, suh." "i'm out my watch, all because of your foolishness." "suh?" "you needn't 'suh' me, i mean what i said. my watch is gone. if you didn't take it yourself, you helped that fellow to get away with it." "this to me, suh! me, colonel jackson gibbs, suh, of the sudley light artillery, suh! infamous, suh!" "so is the loss of my watch infamous." "i shall make a complaint, suh, to the authorities." "go ahead, and tell them that i lost my watch, too," and walked off, leaving colonel jackson gibbs of the sudley light artillery gazing after him in amazement. "do you think he will make more trouble?" asked tom. "not he. he is too scared that i will hold him responsible for the loss of the watch." and dick was right; they never did hear of the planter again. that night, all on board did nothing but talk about dan baxter and the way he had managed to escape. "he is as bad as paddy's flea," said dora. "when you put your finger on him, he isn't there." the houseboat left the town the following afternoon, and the course was now down the mississippi in the direction of a village called braxbury, where mrs. stanhope had some friends of many years' standing. "they used to have quite a plantation," said the lady. "if they still have it, we'll have a good chance for a nice time on shore." "and we can go out for that ride on the prairies," added sam. "want to scalp a few noble red men?" asked tom, with a wink. "no red men in mine, tom. but wouldn't you like an outing of that sort, just for a change?" "don't know but what i would. but we couldn't take the girls along very well." "no, we could leave them with their friends at the plantation." on the following day it began to rain, and all had to keep to the cabin of the houseboat. at first, the rain came down lightly, but towards noon it poured in torrents. out on the river the weather grew so thick that they could not see a hundred feet in any direction. "better run for the shore and tie up," said dick to captain starr. "we don't want to run the risk of a collision, especially when our time's our own." "i was just going to suggest it," said the skipper of the _dora_, and soon they were turning toward shore. a good landing place was found and the houseboat was tied up near several large trees in that vicinity. instead of abating, the storm kept increasing in violence. so far, there had been but little thunder and lightning, but now several vivid flashes lit up the sky, and some sharp cracks made the girls jump. "oh, i detest a thunder storm," cried nellie. "i wish it was over." "so do i," answered dora. "but i suppose we have got to make the best of it." "do not sit so close to an open window," said mrs. laning. "i was going to close the window," came from mrs. stanhope. "i never sit with a window open during such a storm as this." and then the window was closed, and also the door. "i'm going out for some fresh air," said tom a little later, when the worst of the lightning seemed to be over. "i hate to be cooped up like a chicken in a hen-house." and, getting out his rain-coat, he went on deck, and presently dick followed him. "this will make the river swell up," remarked dick, gazing around curiously. "gracious, how it pours!" "the wind is rising. that's a sign it is going to clear up." "not always, tom. i think this storm will last all day, and perhaps to-night, too." the boys walked from one end of the houseboat to the other and gazed out on the rolling river. then a gust of wind almost took them from their feet. "phew! we can't stand much of this," observed dick. "we'll get drenched in spite of our rain-coats. i think--" dick got no further, for at that moment there was a weird flash of lightning, followed by an ear-splitting crash of thunder. then came a crash of another kind. "look out! one of the trees is coming down on the houseboat!" ejaculated dick. as he uttered the words another crash followed, and down came the trunk of a big tree, cutting into the companion ladder and the cabin of the _dora_. one of the branches of the tree swept over poor tom, and before he could save himself, he was hurled into the river. chapter vi the effects of a big storm "tom!" cried dick, as he saw his brother swept from view. there was no answer to this call, and, much alarmed, the eldest rover leaped over a limb of the fallen tree and ran to the edge of the houseboat. the rain was again coming down in torrents and for the moment dick could see little or nothing. he heard a cry from the cabin of the _dora_, and this increased his dismay. at last he caught sight of tom's head, about ten feet away from the houseboat. a glance showed him that his brother was unconscious and on the point of sinking again. "i must save him!" muttered dick to himself, and, without an instant's hesitation, he leaped overboard. "dick! tom!" the cry was uttered by sam as he came running out of the houseboat, hatless and in his shirt sleeves. the fallen tree obstructed his view, and it was several seconds before he caught sight of his brothers in the water. "dick!" he yelled. "what's the matter?" "throw me a rope," was the answer, and it did not take sam long to obey instructions. then dick caught tom under the shoulders, and both were hauled back to the side of the _dora_. "did the tree knock you overboard?" asked sam anxiously. "it knocked tom over," answered dick. just as he was placed on deck again, tom opened his eyes and stared around him. "who--where am i?" he demanded faintly. "you are safe, tom," answered dick kindly. "don't you remember, the tree knocked you overboard?" "oh!" the fun-loving rover drew a long breath. "did you fish me out?" "i jumped in after you, and sam fished us both out." "good enough." by this time some of the others were stepping forth from the wreck of the cabin. all were more or less excited, and the girls and ladies came out hatless and coatless despite the rain, which now seemed to come down with renewed fury, as if to add to their misery. "is anybody hurt?" demanded dick. "i was hit by a broken board," answered mrs. laning. "but it scared me more than anything else." "one of the broken windows came in on me and covered me with glass," came from songbird. "but wasn't that a crack of thunder! i thought it was the crack of doom!" "and were you really hurled overboard?" asked nellie, rushing up to tom and almost embracing him. "you poor boy! how glad i am that you were not drowned!" "well, come to think of it, i'm glad myself," he returned with a little smile. "oh, tom, it's nothing to joke about!" "that is true, nellie." "say, i ton't vont no more oxcitements like dot!" cried hans. "i vos schared out of mine vits alretty, ain't it!" "we were all scared," said fred. "but hadn't we better get inside again? we are all getting wet to the skin." "the cabin is in an awful mess," declared dora, and she told the truth. daylight was streaming through a hole in one corner and the rain was entering in a stream. "let us get a tarpaulin and cover that hole," said dick. "i'll do it," he added. "i can't get any wetter than i am," and he gave a short laugh. "and i'll help," said tom, who had recovered rapidly from his involuntary bath. "we shall need a carpenter to make repairs," said captain starr, who had been working to shove off the fallen tree. "this smash-up is a pretty bad one." the boys remained outside, and all went to work to remove the tree trunk and to cover the hole with a heavy tarpaulin. it was a task lasting the best part of an hour, and when it had come to an end, the rain was slackening up. "we shall certainly have to lay up somewhere for repairs," said fred. "we can't continue the journey in this condition." "let us hire a carpenter at the next town we stop at," suggested sam, and to this they agreed. the mess in the cabin was left for aleck to clean up, and then the ladies and the girls straightened things out as best they could. as soon as the storm cleared away, the journey down the mississippi was continued. "i can't help but think of what might have happened if that stroke of lightning had hit the houseboat," said songbird. "it makes me shiver." "we certainly had a narrow escape," answered dora. "i never wish to get quite so close to another stroke." on the following day, they stopped at a place which i shall call ramontown. from one of the dock owners, they learned where they could find a master carpenter, and they called upon this individual and had him look at the damage done. "i can fix up the craft as good as she ever was," said he. "but it will take at least a week, and it will take several days more to give her two good coats of paint." the matter was talked over, and they decided to remain tied up and have the houseboat put in first-class condition once more. then mrs. stanhope sent a long letter to her friends at braxbury, stating she would call with some others, and mentioned the houseboat trip. just twenty-four hours later, a middle-aged man came down to the houseboat and shook hands warmly. his name was carson denton and he was the husband of mrs. stanhope's friend. "i am more than glad to see you," he said. "i just got your letter to clara, and as she wanted me to open any letter that might be at the braxbury post-office for her, i read it. we do not live in braxbury any longer, but further west, at a place called silver creek, where i have a good-sized plantation." "is that so? when did you move, mr. denton?" "only a few weeks ago, which accounts for you not having known of the change. i had a good chance to trade my place in town for a plantation, or ranch, as my son bob calls it, and i took it. we have a fine place, and clara will be much pleased, i am sure, to have you and your friends pay us a visit." "oh, mamma, let us go!" cried dora. "i don't wish to stay on the houseboat while the repairs are being made." the matter was talked over for an hour, and the boys and girls took mr. denton over the houseboat, from end to end. "i've heard of you rover boys," said he to dick, tom and sam. "mrs. stanhope has written to us about you, and how you once saved her from a fellow named josiah crabtree. if you and your chums wish to visit our place, i'd like you to do so. i've got a son bob who, i know, would like to meet you." "well, i wouldn't mind taking a trip inland," answered dick. "can't we go on horseback?" put in sam eagerly. "we might do that." "certainly, you could make the trip in that way," said mr. denton. "but it would take some time, for the roads are not of the best down here. we usually take a train as far as docker crossing, and then ride the rest of the distance, twelve miles, in a carriage or on horseback." "i'll tell you what's let do," suggested tom. "the girls and the ladies can go with mr. denton on the train, and all us boys can hire horses and make the trip that way. we can leave captain starr and aleck in charge of the houseboat until we get back. we need not hurry ourselves, for our time is our own." when talked over, this plan met with universal approval, and it was decided to put it into execution without delay. mr. denton wished them to make an extended stay at his plantation, and the boys decided to take their own time in getting there. "it will be just the outing on horseback that i have been looking for," said sam. "i hope we have nothing but clear weather." "we ought to have, after such a storm," said fred. "see how clear the sky is to-day." "that trip to the plantation on horseback will take about five days," said dick. "that will make quite an outing." "puts me in mind of our trip out west," said tom. "what are we going to do when night comes on? go to some ranch, or make our own camp?" "oh, let us go into our own camp!" cried songbird. "it will be such fun!" "that's the talk," chimed in sam. "we can camp out on the way if the weather proves good," decided dick. "but if it rains good and hard, i reckon all of you will be glad enough to get under cover." "pooh! who's afraid of a little rain," put in fred. "why, that will make us grow!" so the talk ran on, and finally all arrangements were completed for the trip inland. aleck pop was sorry he could not accompany the boys, but dick thought it best that he remain behind. "you know how captain starr is, aleck--a bit queer at times. the _dora_ is a valuable craft, and i shall feel safer if i know you are helping to keep watch over her." "all right, massa dick. i will do my best to see dat no harm comes to de houseboat. but i'd like to be wid you boys, no use er talkin'." "perhaps you can go along next time," said dick, and with this the colored man had to be content. it did not take the ladies and the girls long to get ready for the trip, and they left on the following morning, the boys going to the railroad station to see them off. there was a hearty handshake all around. then the train came in and the party was off with a waving of handkerchiefs. "and now to get ready for our own start," came from tom. through the carpenter who had taken the contract to repair the houseboat, they were introduced to a man who owned a number of horses, and for a proper consideration this individual let them have the use of the steeds they wanted. they were all good animals and used to the saddle, and the man guaranteed that the lads would not have any trouble whatever with them. "but i want to tell you beforehand that the road is none of the best," said the horse owner. "it is pretty fair for the first fifteen miles or so, but then it is bad for thirty miles after that. you want to beware of sink holes." "we've been on some pretty bad roads before this," answered sam. "i guess we'll know enough to take care of ourselves." "well, i didn't think there would be any harm in telling you." "oh, that's all right." the rover boys were so used to traveling and to camping out that they knew exactly what to take along. the other lads were also well informed, because of the military encampments in which they had participated. they carried only what was necessary, so that their steeds might not be too heavily burdened. "looks like yo' was ready fo' a reg'lar outin'," remarked aleck when they were ready for a start. "i dun hopes yo' all come back safe and sound." "why, of course we'll come back safe and sound!" exclaimed sam. "what put that into your noddle, aleck?" "i dunno, massa sam. but dis am a queer country, ain't it?" "not in the least. we expect to have a fine outing, and nothing else." "and we'll be back here inside of two weeks," added dick. "that is, unless we make up our minds to stay at mr. denton's place for a while." "all right, sah." "and when we get back, i shall expect to see the houseboat in first-class order," continued dick to captain starr. "i shall do my best," answered the captain. a moment later, all of the boys mounted their horses and the journey inland was begun. little did they dream of the strange adventures and perils which lay ahead of them. chapter vii a day on the road "vot kind of a horse you vos call dis, annahow?" the question came from hans, after about four miles of the journey had been covered. so far, his steed had acted well enough, but now, without warning, the animal began to balk and paw the turf. "something is wrong, that is certain," replied dick. "perhaps you haven't got a tight enough rein, hans." "dot reins vos so tight as nefer vos. i dink dis horse got somedings der madder mit him." as the german boy finished, he gave the horse a slap on the neck with his hands. in a twinkling, up came the steed's hind heels, and poor hans slid out of the saddle and down to the neck. "voah, dere!" he bawled. "voah, i said! vot you vants to do, annahow, drow me your head ofer? sthop, und do it kvick!" but the horse did not stop. instead, he began to back, and then of a sudden he leaped high up in the air, to come down on all fours with a thump that nearly jounced poor hans to pieces. "hello, hans has got a bucking bronco!" cried tom. "hans, what will you take for him?" "i gif him avay!" bawled the poor german youth. "oh!" for the steed had made another leap, and now hans went over his neck in a jiffy, to land in a heap of dust on the side of the road. then the horse took to his heels and disappeared up the trail like a flash. "are you hurt?" questioned dick, leaping to the ground and running to the german youth's assistance. "vere is dot horse?" sang out hans as he scrambled up and wiped the dust from his mouth and eyes. he was not injured, but was greatly excited. "the horse has run away." "vell, i nefer! go after him, somepotty!" "i'll go after him!" cried tom. "so will i," added fred, and away they sped, with sam and songbird after them. "be careful!" called dick. "that horse may prove to be a pretty high-strung beast." "i think i can manage him," cried tom. "but we have got to locate him first." those in pursuit of the horse had to travel the best part of a mile before they came in sight of the animal, quietly grazing by the roadside. "looks as meek as a lamb," observed fred. "whoa, there!" he called out. at the call, the horse pricked up his ears and looked at them curiously. then he took half a dozen steps forward. "he is going to run away again!" came in a warning from songbird. "not to-day!" sang out tom, and riding forward, he leaned over and caught the dangling reins. then, watching his chance, he leaped into the other saddle. scarcely had he done this, than the runaway steed began to prance, and kicked up his heels as before. but tom was on guard, and try his best, the horse could not dislodge the boy. "beware, tom!" cried sam. "don't let him throw you, or he may step on you!" "i don't intend to let him throw me!" was the panting answer. finding he could not throw tom, the horse adopted new tactics. he gave a sudden bound forward and was off with the speed of the wind. "he is running away with tom!" on and on went the steed, and tom did his best to pull him in, but without result. then the fun-loving youth smiled grimly and shut his teeth hard. "all right, old fireworks, if you want to run, i'll give you all you want of it," he murmured. on and on they flew, until a bend in the road shut off the others from view. a mile was covered, and the horse showed signs of slackening his speed. "no, you don't," said tom. "you wanted to run, now keep it up for a while," and he slapped the animal vigorously. away went the horse, and another quarter of a mile was passed. then the horse slackened up once more. "another run, please," said tom, and slapped him as before. the horse went on, but at a reduced speed, and came to a halt before another quarter mile was passed. "had about enough, eh?" questioned tom. "well, you can run a little more, just for good measure." by the time the next run came to an end, the horse was covered with foam and tired out, for the road was very rough. tom now turned him back and made him journey along at a fairly good rate of speed. "well, i declare, here comes tom back!" cried fred on catching sight of the fun-loving rover. "are you hurt?" "not a bit." "and the horse?" asked sam. "as meek as a lamb--shouldn't wish for a better animal. he wanted a little run, that's all, and i gave it to him." soon dick came up, with hans riding behind him. the german boy looked at the captured horse with awe. "did he bite you?" he questioned. "no." "didn't he hurt you at all?" "nary a hurt, hansy." "vonderful!" "do you want him back?" "not for a dousand tollars, tom. of i got to ride him, i valk," continued hans decidedly. "then, supposing you try my horse. he is gentle enough." "ton't you been afraid of dot beast?" "no." "all right, den, i dook your horse. but of you got killed, it ton't vos mine funeral," added hans warningly. the animal tom had been riding was close by, and soon the german youth was in the saddle and the journey was resumed. they could not go fast, however, for tom's horse was all but exhausted. "i think he has learned his lesson," said tom to his brothers. and so it proved, for after that single "kick-up," the horse gave them no further trouble. about four o'clock that afternoon, they rode into a place called harpertown, which was something of a horse-trading center. some of the horse dealers thought they had come in to do some trading, but lost interest when the boys told them that they were simply on a journey to the denton plantation. "we may as well stop here for a while," said sam. "perhaps we can get a good supper at the hotel." "thought we were going to camp out," remarked fred. "build our own camp fire, and all that?" "we can try that to-morrow, when we are among the hills," said dick, and by a vote it was decided to stay in harpertown for supper. they put up their horses at the livery stable attached to the hotel, and then went to the lavatory to wash up. on coming out and going to the general room of the hostelry, dick ran into a man who looked familiar to him. "why, how do you do, mr. monday?" he cried, and put out his hand. the man looked startled at being addressed so unexpectedly. then he recognized dick, and smiled faintly. "how do you do, dick rover?" he said. "i didn't expect to run across you down here." "are you at work here, mr. monday?" "hush! please do not mention my name," said james monday hastily. he was a detective who had once done some work for dick's father, after which he had given up his private practice to take a position with the united states government. "all right, just as you please." dick lowered his voice. "i suppose you are on a case down here?" james monday nodded. "can i help you in any way?" "i think not, rover. where are you bound?" "to a plantation about a hundred miles from here," and the eldest rover gave a few particulars. "well, i wish you luck," said the government detective. "now, do me a favor, will you?" he asked earnestly. "don't act as if you know me, and don't tell anybody who i am." "i'll comply willingly." "if your brothers recognize me, ask them to do the same." "i will." "i am looking up some rascals and i don't want them to get on to the fact that i am a detective." "i understand." at that moment a heavy-set individual with a shock of bushy hair came slouching in. at once james monday took his departure, the newcomer gazing after him curiously. dick waited a moment, and then rejoined sam and tom. "dick, we just caught sight of a man we know," said sam. "can you guess whom?" "mr. day-of-the-week," put in tom. dick put up his hand warningly. "don't mention that to a soul," he whispered. "i was just talking to him. he is here on special business, and he wants nobody to know him." "then we'll be as mum as a mouse in a cheese," answered sam. "correct," joined in tom. "but what's his game?" "i don't know," answered dick. but he was destined to find out ere he was many days older. chapter viii fun at the hotel the long ride had made all of the boys hungry, and when they procured supper at the hotel they cleaned up nearly everything that was set before them. "nothing the matter with your appetites," observed a sour-looking individual who sat next to tom at the table. "nothing at all, sir," answered the fun-loving youth. "what made you think there was?" "eh?" "what made you think there was something wrong with our internal machinery, whereby we might be wanting in a proper regard for victuals?" the man stared at tom, and while a few at the table snickered, the man himself looked more sour than ever. "see here, don't you poke fun at me!" he cried. "never dreamed of it, my dear sir," said tom, unruffled. "by the way, how's your heart?" "why--er--my heart's all right." "glad to hear it. yesterday i heard of a donkey who had his heart on the wrong side of his body. odd case, wasn't it?" "see here, you young imp, do you mean to call me a--er--a donkey?" and the man grew red in the face. "a donkey? why, no, sir! what put such a notion in your head?" "you said--" "so i did. go on." "you said--" "so you said before." "you said--" "you said that before. you said, i said, and i said, so i did. it's perfectly clear, as the strainer said to the tea." by this time, all sitting at the table were on a broad grin. as a matter of fact, the sour-looking man was not liked in that locality, and the boarders were glad to see somebody "take him down." "i won't put up with your foolishness!" stormed the man. "i am not a donkey, and i want you to know it." "well, i am glad you mentioned it," said tom calmly. "now, there won't be the least occasion for a mistake." "don't insult me!" "no, sir; i am not looking for work." "eh?" "i said i wasn't looking for work." "what do you mean by that?" "that, sir, is a mystery puzzle, and there is a reward of one herring bone for the correct solution. answers must be sent in on one side of the paper only, and have a certificate added that the sender has not got cold feet." at this quaint humor, some at the table laughed outright. the sour-looking individual looked thoroughly enraged. "i--i'll settle with you another time, young man!" he roared, and dashed from the room. "tom, you made it rather warm for him," remarked dick. "well, he had no right to find fault with our appetites," grumbled tom. "we are paying for our meals, and i am going to eat what i please." "and i don't blame you, young man," said a gentleman sitting opposite. "sladen is very disagreeable to us all and makes himself especially obnoxious to newcomers. he imagines the hotel is here for his especial benefit." "well, he wants to treat me fairly, or i'll give him as good as he sends, and better." during the evening sladen made himself particularly disagreeable to the rovers and their chums. this set tom to thinking, and he asked one of the hotel men what business the man was in and where he usually kept himself. "he is a traveling salesman," was the answer. "he sells horse and cattle medicine." "oh, i see," said tom, and set his brain to work to play some joke on the sour-looking vender of stock remedies. tom's chance came sooner than expected. a batch of colored folks had drifted into the place under the impression that a certain planter was going to give them work at big wages. they were a worthless lot, the scum of other plantations, and nobody wanted them. sitting down, tom penned the following note and got it to one of the negroes in a roundabout fashion: "the man who wants you and all of the others is sandy sladen. he does not dare to say so here at the hotel, but all of you had better go up to him on the sly and tell him you are ready to work, and ask for a dollar in advance--that's the sign that it is all right. do not let him put you off, as he may want to test you. this is the chance of your life." the communication was signed with a scrawl that might mean anything. the negro read it and passed it to his friends. all were mystified, but they decided that they must do as the letter said, and without loss of time. sladen was sitting in the reading-room of the hotel smoking a cheap cigar, when he was told a negro wished to see him. "very well, send him in," he said in his loud, consequential tone. the burly negro came in almost on tiptoes and, putting his mouth close to sladen's ear, whispered: "i'se ready to go to work, sah. hadn't yo' bettah gib me a dollah, sah?" "what's that?" demanded the traveling man. the negro repeated his words in a slightly louder tone. "i don't want you to work for me!" cried the sour-looking individual. "get out!" "dat's all right, sah. i can do it, sah." "i don't want you." "yes, yo' do, sah. won't you han' ober dat dollah, sah? it will come in mighty useful, sah." "say, you're crazy!" cried the traveling man. by this time two other colored men were coming in. both approached as secretly as had the first. "i'se ready to go to work fo' you, sah," said each, and added: "kin i hab dat dollah?" "look here, what does this mean?" roared the irate man. "get away from here, before i boot you out!" but the negroes did not go, and in a few minutes more three others entered. soon the reading-room was full of them, all talking in an excited manner. "we'se ready to work fo' you!" they cried. "give me a chance fust?" bawled one big, coal-black fellow. "no, de fust job comes to me!" put in the man who had received the letter. "dat job is mine!" called out a third. "ain't dat so?" and he caught sladen by the arm. this was a signal for the others, and soon they completely surrounded the traveling man, who tried in vain to ward them off. "give us dat dollah!" called out several. "we want work, an' yo' has got to gib it to us." "yo' can't bring us to dis town fo' nuffin!" they pushed and hustled the traveling man all around the room, while the rest of the guests looked on in amazement. tom and his friends stood by the door and enjoyed the scene immensely. "he is surely getting all that is coming to him," observed fred. "say, he vos so mad like a bumbles bee," came from hans. "if you don't go away, i'll call an officer!" came frantically from the traveling man. "i don't want to hire anybody." "yes, yo' do!" was the chorus. "give us dat dollah!" by this time the owner of the hotel had heard of the excitement, and he came bustling in. "see here," he said to sladen, "you can't use this hotel for an employment office. if you want to hire help, you have got to do it on the outside." "i don't want help!" stormed the traveling man. "these men say you sent for them." "maybe he wants them to try some of his horse remedies," suggested a man who did not like sladen. "if so, i advise them not to take the job." and a general laugh arose at the sally. "you have got to get out of here," said the hotel man, speaking to the negroes. "and you must go, too," he added to the traveling man. "me?" "yes, you. you have made trouble enough around here. after this, when you come to town, you can go to some other hotel." "this is an outrage!" "we want a job, or some money!" bawled two of the colored men. and they rushed at sladen and began to shake him violently. he pushed them away and started for the door. they went after him, and in the hallway he got into a free fight and almost had his coat torn from his back. "i'll get even with somebody for this!" he almost foamed. "if i find out who played this joke on me--" "go on, and do your talking outside," interrupted the hotel proprietor, and then the disgruntled traveling man had to leave, with the angry mob of colored men following him. he was so pestered by the latter that he had to take a train out of town the very next morning. "that was piling it on pretty thick, tom," said dick, after the excitement was over. "he deserved it, dick. i made some inquiries around the hotel, and not a single person liked him. he was the torment of all the hired help, and was keeping them in hot water continually." "well, if he finds you out, he'll make it warm for you." "i intend to keep mum," answered the fun-loving rover, and he did keep mum. it may be added here that he never met sladen again. chapter ix hans as a poet dick was down in the stable attached to the hotel on the following morning, when a man came in and approached him. he was the same individual who had drawn near when the eldest rover was talking to the government detective. "getting ready to leave, stranger?" he said in a pleasant tone. "yes, we are going to start right after breakfast." "bound for the denton plantation, so i hear?" "yes. do you know mr. denton?" "i met him once or twice--when he was in business in braxbury. a nice man, so i understand." "yes, he is a very nice man." "it might be that you are related to him?" "no." "that's a nice hoss you've been riding." "i find him so," answered dick shortly. he did not fancy the appearance of the man who was speaking to him. "looks something like a horse was here yesterday and the day before," continued the man, following dick up. "i reckon you remember him?" dick did remember, for the horse had been ridden by james monday. "by the way, who was your friend?" added the man with assumed carelessness, but eying dick closely. "i can't tell you anything about him," was the sharp answer. "have you a horse here?" continued dick, to change the subject. "certainly. then you didn't know the man?" "oh, i met him once or twice, years ago--when he was in business up in new york." and without waiting to be questioned further, dick walked out of the stable. the man eyed him as closely as he had the government detective the day previous. "he isn't much more than a boy, but i'd like to know if he is out here only for pleasure or on business," said the man to himself. "we can't be too careful in our work," and he smiled grimly. "that fellow wants to know too much," said the eldest rover in talking it over with his brother sam. "i must say i don't like his looks at all." "nor i, dick. i'll wager he has some game up his sleeve." "perhaps he is the fellow mr. monday is watching?" "that is possible, too. he was certainly very inquisitive." after a good breakfast, the rovers and their friends prepared to resume their journey. from the landlord of the hotel they obtained information regarding the roads and trails to follow. "they ain't none of the best," said the hotel man. "but they are the best we possess, so you'll have to put up with them," and he laughed at his little joke. they were soon on the way. a good night's rest had put all in the best of humor, and they joked and sang as they rode along. "songbird, this ride ought to be full of inspirations for you," remarked fred. "i'll wager he is chockful of poetry at this minute," put in dick. "then, for gracious' sake, turn on the spigot before you explode, songbird," cried tom. "don't pen up your brilliant ideas when they want to flow." "an idea just popped into my head," said the so-styled poet. "now you have asked me, you have got to stand for it." and in a deep voice he commenced: "the road is dusty, the road is long, but we can cheer our way with song, and as we ride with gladsome hearts--" "each one can wish he had some tarts," finished tom, and continued: "or pies, or cakes, or ice-cream rare-- good things that make a fellow stare!" "don't mention ice-cream!" cried fred. "oh, but wouldn't it be fine on such a hot day as this?" "no ice-cream in this poetry," came from songbird. "listen!" and he went on: "the road doth wind by forests deep, where soft the welcome shadows creep. down the valley, up the hill, and then beside the rippling rill. the welcome flowers line the way, throughout the livelong summer day, the birds are flitting to and fro--" "they love to flit and flit, you know," came from the irrepressible tom, and he added: "the bullfrog hops around the marsh, his welcome note is rather harsh. the lone mosquito shows his bill, and, boring deep, secures his fill." "hold on, there!" came from dick. "i draw the line on mosquitoes in poetry. they can do their own singing." "and stinging," added fred gayly. "mape i vos make some boultry vonce, ain't it?" said hans calmly. "that's it, hans," cried sam. "go ahead, by all means." and the german youth started: "der sky vos green, der grass vos plue-- i sit town to an oyster stew; der pirds vos singing all der night-- you vill get choked of your collar is tight! oh, see der rooster scratching hay-- ven der pand begins to blay! at night der sun goes town to ped-- und cofers mid clouds his old red head! at night der moon she vinks at me--" "--for making such bad poetree!" finished tom, and added with a groan: "hans, did you really make that all up by yourself?" "sure i did," was the proud answer. "you must have had to eat an awful lot of mince pie to do it," put in sam. "vot has mince bie to do mit boultry?" "it's got a lot to do with such poetry as that," murmured songbird in disgust. "oh, i know vots der madder. you vos jealous of me, hey?" "sure he is jealous, hans," said dick. "songbird couldn't make up such poetry in a hundred years." "it runs in der family," went on the german boy calmly. "mine granfadder he vonce wrote a song. da sung him py a funeral." "did it kill anybody?" asked fred. "not much! it vos a brize song. he got a dollar for doing it." "it must run in the family, like wooden legs among the soldiers," said tom, and there the fun for the time being came to an end. the road now ran up a hill, and then they came to a thick patch of timber. before they left the timber, they rested for their mid-day lunch, camping out, as suited them. "this is something like," remarked fred. "i think it first-rate." "it is very nice to be outdoors when it doesn't rain," answered dick. "how nice it would be if we had the girls along," said sam. "oh, ho! sam is pining for grace!" cried tom teasingly. "pooh! you needn't to blow," returned the youngest rover, blushing. "last night you called out for nellie in your sleep. you must have been dreaming of her." "i'll dream you!" burst out tom, getting as red as sam had been, and he made a move as if to throw a cup of coffee at his brother. "children! children!" said dick sweetly. "i am--er--amazed." "he's sorry because you forgot to mention dora," said the irrepressible tom. "now, dora is just the cutest--" "avast, tom, or you will get it," said dick. "we haven't got the girls with us, so let us drop the subject." it was very pleasant in the timber, and they did not leave until thoroughly rested. near at hand was a small but pure stream, and here they washed up and watered their horses. while the others were at the stream, tom wandered off in the direction of the road. now they saw him coming back full of excitement. "whom do you suppose i saw on the road?" he said. "give it up," returned fred. "dan baxter." "baxter!" came in a chorus. "yes. he was with that fellow who was at the hotel, the chap with the bushy hair," added tom to dick. "the man who asked so many questions." "were they on horseback?" asked sam. "yes. when baxter saw me, he looked frightened. i called to him to stop, but he wouldn't do it." "where were the pair going?" asked dick with interest. "in the same direction we are going." "perhaps we can catch up with them," went on dick. "anyway, it is worth trying." a minute later all were in the saddle and on the trail once more. chapter x a twenty-dollar bill "it's odd that dan baxter should be out here," observed sam as they journeyed along. "can he be following us?" "it is possible," returned dick. "you know he would do almost anything to harm us." "he has got to keep his distance," said fred. "i shan't put up with any more of his games." when they came to a turn of the road, they saw dan baxter and the bushy-haired man a long distance ahead. the former bully of putnam hall was on the lookout for them and at once urged his steed onward at an increased rate of speed. "he means to get away if he possibly can," cried songbird. "if we want to catch him, we have got to do our utmost." on and on they rode, until another turn hid baxter and his companion from view again. the bully was frightened, for he did not know what would happen to him if he was caught by the rovers and their friends in such a lonely spot as this. the man who was with him, a fellow named sack todd, noticed his anxiety, and smiled grimly to himself. "you're mighty anxious to git away from them fellows," he remarked. "well, if i am, what of it?" returned dan baxter sharply. so many things had gone wrong lately that he was thoroughly out of humor. "oh, i allow you have a perfect right to give 'em the go-by if you want to," answered sack todd. "i wouldn't mind helpin' you a bit--maybe. tell me about 'em, will you?" "they are fellows i hate, and i've always hated them!" cried the bully fiercely. "we used to go to the same boarding academy, and they did their best to get me into trouble. then i tried to get square, and that put me in hot water and i had to leave. after that, we had more trouble. they tried to prove i was a criminal." "i see. go on." "it's a long story. i hate 'em, and i'd do almost anything to get square with them." "good for you!" cried sack todd. "i like a fellow who wants to stand up for himself. but just now you are running away." "i can't stand up against such a crowd alone. but some day it will be different." "let us turn down a side road," said sack todd. "that will throw 'em off the scent." he was a good judge of character, and fancied he could read baxter's story fairly well. the young man had come down in the world, and he was bitter against everybody and everything. they passed down a side path and then on to a trail that was all but hidden by the grass and bushes. "it's a short cut to cottonton," said the man. "we can reach there in no time by this trail. very few, though, know of the route." as they rode along the half-hidden trail, he questioned dan baxter more closely than ever, and as a result learned as much as he cared to know. he realized that the former bully was hard up and ready to do almost anything to make some money. what he had possessed, he had spent in gambling and other forms of fast living. "perhaps i can put you in the way of making some money," said sack todd slowly. "that is, if you are not over particular as to what it is," he added, looking at baxter sharply. "i'm not looking for hard work, thank you," was the ready answer. "i am not used to that sort of thing, and couldn't stand it." "this sort of work would be easy enough. but it would require judgment--and a little nerve at first." "well, i think i have fairly good judgment, and, as for nerve--why, try me, that's all." "then there is another point to the business. you'd have to drive some pretty sharp bargains." "i can do that." "sometimes the goods are not exactly as represented--" "i guess i understand, and that wouldn't stop me," and dan baxter grinned. "but i'd want pretty good pay." "i think i can make that suitable--after we know each other better," said sack todd. he continued to draw baxter out, and hinted at a scheme to make big money. at last, the former bully of putnam hall could stand it no longer. "see here," he cried. "if you mean business, spit out what is in your mind. you can trust me with anything. i am not of the milk-and-water sort. i am out for money, first, last and all the time." "then you are a fellow after my own heart," answered the man. "i reckon we can come to terms. but not just yet." "well, i've got to have something pretty quick. i am next to dead-broke." "perhaps i can help you out a bit." "i wish you would." "here is twenty dollars. i reckon that will prove that i am taking an interest in you." and the bright, crisp bill was handed over. "money talks!" cried dan baxter. he gazed at the bank note in genuine pleasure. "i am much obliged." "here is where i must leave you," went on sack todd as they reached a crossing in the trails. "keep right on, and you'll soon come in sight of cottonton. meet me there to-night at the planters' rest." "i will." "you had better keep out of sight--if those rovers are on your trail." "trust me to lay low," said baxter with a short laugh. in another moment the former bully of putnam hall found himself alone. sack todd had galloped off at a high rate of speed. "he is certainly an odd sort," mused baxter. "but i guess he means to do right by me, or he wouldn't lend me a twenty so readily. he must be used to handling big money, by the roll of bills he carried. i wish i possessed such a roll. there must have been several hundred dollars in it, at least." he felt to make sure that the bill was safe in his pocket, and then continued on his journey. several times he looked back, but he could see nothing of the rover boys or their friends. dan baxter felt particularly downcast and desperate. since the capture of lew flapp, he had been without a companion in whom to confide, and the peculiar loneliness among utter strangers was beginning to tell on him. this was one reason why he had told sack todd so much of his story. coming to the end of the timber and brush-wood, he saw, lying before him in something of a valley, the town of cottonton, consisting of several well laid out streets and an outlying district of pretty homes. at a distance was the regular road, but so far his enemies were not in sight. the ride had made baxter hungry and, reaching the town, he lost no time in hunting up a modest restaurant on a side street, where, he hoped, the rovers would not find him. "what can you give me for dinner?" he asked. "i want something good." a number of dishes were named over, and he selected roast beef, potatoes, beans, coffee and pie. he was quickly served, and pitched in with a will. "riding makes a fellow feel hungry," he explained to the proprietor of the eating house, who hovered near. "yes, sah, so it does. going to stay in town, sah?" "i don't know yet. i'm just looking around." "yes, sah, certainly. if you stay, i'll be pleased to furnish meals regularly, sah." "i'll remember that." having disposed of the meal and also an extra cup of coffee, dan baxter called for a cigar and lit it. then he hauled out the twenty-dollar bill. as he did so, he gave a slight start. he had handled a good deal of money in his time, and the bank bill looked just a bit peculiar to him. "what if it isn't good?" he asked himself. "forty-five cents, please," said the restaurant keeper. his usual price for such a meal was thirty cents, but he thought baxter could stand the raise. "sorry i haven't a smaller bill," answered the bully coolly. "i ought to have asked the bank cashier to give me smaller bills." "i reckon i can change it, sah," said the restaurant man, thinking only of the extra fifteen cents he was to receive. "take out half a dollar and have a cigar on me," continued baxter magnanimously. "yes, sah; thank you, sah!" said the man. he fumbled around, and in a minute counted out nineteen dollars and a half in change. pocketing the amount, the bully walked out, mounted his horse once more and rode away. "nice chap, to pay forty-five cents and then treat me to a cigar," thought the restaurant keeper. "wish i had that sort coming in every day." he lit the cigar and smoked it with a relish, particularly so as it had not cost him anything. he put the twenty-dollar bill away, to use when he should go to a neighboring city to buy some household goods, two days later. when he went to buy his things, they came to twenty-six dollars, and he passed over the new twenty-dollar bill, and also an old one received some weeks before. "i'll have to get change at the bank," said the store keeper, and left his place to do so. in a few minutes he came back in a hurry. "see here," he cried. "they tell me one of these bills is a counterfeit." "a counterfeit!" gasped the restaurant man. "so the bank cashier says." "which bill?" "the new one." "you don't mean it! why, i took that bill in only a couple of days ago." "then you got stuck, mr. golden." "is he sure it's a counterfeit?" "dead certain of it. he says it's rather a clever imitation, and that a number of them are afloat around these parts. where did you get it?" "a stranger gave it to me," groaned the restaurant keeper. "i thought he was mighty smooth. he treated me to a cigar! i wish i had him here!" "you had better watch out for him." "sure i will. but i suppose he'll know enough to keep out of my way," added the man who had been victimized. chapter xi a midnight scare the rovers reached cottonton without catching sight of dan baxter again, nor did they locate him while stopping at the town. "he knows enough to keep out of our way," remarked dick. "even now he may be watching every move we make." they did not remain in cottonton long, and that night found them once more on a trail leading to another patch of timber. all were in excellent spirits, and hans enlivened the time by singing a song in his broken english in a manner which convulsed them all. "hans would make his fortune on the variety stage," remarked fred. "his manner is too funny for anything." "vot you said apout a stage?" demanded the german youth. "i ton't vos ride on no stage ven i got a goot horse alretty." "fred wants you to go on the stage," said sam, "he thinks you might play shakespeare," said tom. "vot kind of a play is dot shakespeares?" "it's a farce in 'steen acts and twice as many scenes," said dick. "you might play the double-tongued mute." "i like not such a blay. i like dot blay vere da vos all killed off kvick." "good gracious! hans wants to go in for tragedy!" ejaculated tom. "who would think he was so bloodthirsty. if you keep on like that, hansy, dear, i'll be afraid you'll murder us in our sleep." "i like dem murders. da vos alvays make dem goose skins mine back town." at this there was a general roar. "'goose skins' is good," came from fred. "vot you laffin' at, hey?" demanded hans. "nothing." "dere don't been noddings to laugh at by a murder, not so?" "that's true, hansy," said sam. "maybe of you vos killed, you vould sit ub and laugh at him, hey?" "i shouldn't laugh," said tom. "i'd keep quiet about it." "yah, i know you, tom rofer. i bet you sixteen cents i vos a better actor mans as you been," continued hans, warming up. "i don't doubt it, hansy. some day we'll put you on the stage." "of i got on der stage, i make me a hundred dollars a veek, i pet you my head!" "maybe you'd make two hundred, hans," suggested songbird. "you all peen jealous of vot i can do. but some day i vos show you, you see!" cried the german youth, and rode on ahead, somewhat out of sorts. they had resolved to camp out that night in true hunter fashion, and approaching a spot that looked inviting, they came to a halt. the place was some distance from the road and ideal in many respects, being on high ground and with a spring of pure water flowing into a tiny brook but fifty feet away. as they had no tent, they proceeded to make a shelter of boughs, and covered the flooring with the same material. in the meantime, a campfire was lit, and two of the number set about preparing the supper which had been brought along. "this is all very well, when one has his stuff with him," observed fred. "but if we had to go out and shoot game or catch fish, it would be a different story." "pooh, as if we haven't done that!" cried tom. "i shouldn't like anything better than to go out into the woods for a month." by the time the shelter was in readiness for the night, the supper was cooked, and all sat around the campfire to partake of the meal. a certain part of it had been slightly burnt, but to this nobody paid attention, although it would have been noticed if this had occurred at home or at a hotel. but camping out makes such a difference, doesn't it, boys? "supposing some wild animals came along to eat us up?" said sam when they were finishing their meal. "are there any wild animals around here?" questioned songbird. "i am sure i don't know. there may be bobcats in the timber." "vot is a popcat?" asked hans. "it's a kind of a wildcat--very strong and very fierce." "of dot peen der case, i ton't vonts to meet mr. popcat." "i don't think any of us want to meet such a beast," said tom. "is anybody to stay on guard to-night?" "don't ask me--i'm too dead tired," said dick promptly. "nor me!" came from the others. "let us go to sleep and venture it," said sam. "i don't think a thing will come near us." so it was decided, and as soon as the campfire began to die down, one after another of the boys retired. songbird was the last to lie down, and soon he was slumbering as peacefully as the rest. sam had been sleeping perhaps three hours, when he woke up with a slight start. he sat up and tried to pierce the darkness around him. "did anybody call?" he questioned after a pause. nobody answered, and he listened attentively. the horses had been tethered in the bushes close to the shelter, and now he heard several of the animals move around uneasily. "something must be disturbing them," he told himself. "i'll have to get up and see what it is." at first, he thought he would arouse some of the others, but all appeared to be sleeping so soundly he hated to do so. "they won't thank me for waking them up, unless it is worth while," was what he told himself. he arose and felt his way over the others who lay between himself and the opening of the shelter. outside, there was no moon, but the stars were shining brightly, and he could make out objects that were not too far off. as he moved toward the horses, he heard a rustling in the bushes. he strained his eyes and made out a dark form stealing along close to the ground. "a wild beast!" he muttered. "i wish i had a gun." he turned back to the shelter and aroused dick, and then tom. this awoke all of the others. "what's the matter?" questioned dick, as he got out a pistol. "some sort of a wild animal is prowling around this place." "py chiminy! vos it von of dem catpobs?" ejaculated hans, turning pale. "i don't know what it is." "where is it now?" came from fred. "i don't know that, either. it was slinking around yonder bushes a minute ago." "let us stir up the fire," put in songbird. "all wild animals hate a big blaze." and he set the example, and hans helped to heap up the brushwood. "i ton't vont to become acquainted mit dem catpobs nohow," said the german youth. "he can go avay so kvick like he come." after the fire was brightened, there came a painful pause. each boy was on his guard, with eyes straining from their sockets. "i see something!" cried fred suddenly. "where?" asked the others in a breath. "there--but it's gone now." again they waited, and soon came a rustling on the other side of the camp, followed by the cracking of a bone which had been thrown away during the evening repast. "there he is!" "shoot him!" "no, don't shoot!" burst out tom. "i know what it is." "what?" "nothing but a dog." "nonsense." "i say it is." tom began to whistle. "come here, old boy," he went on. "good dog, come here." at this, the animal stopped crunching the bone and came forward slowly and suspiciously. it was indeed a large, black dog, with curly hair and lean sides. "hullo!" cried sam. "come here, that's a good dog. say, fellows, he looks half starved." "are you sure it ain't no catpob?" queried hans anxiously. "yes, hans," answered songbird. "he is nothing but a dog, and rather friendly at that." the dog came closer, wagging his tail slowly and suspiciously. dick put out his hand and patted him, and then he waved his tail in a vigorous fashion. "he is willing enough to be friends," said the eldest rover. "i shouldn't be surprised if he is homeless." "in that case, we might adopt him," said tom, who loved a nice dog. "let us try him on something to eat," put in songbird. "there is no meat left on that bone." some things had been saved for breakfast, and a portion was set before the newcomer. he devoured it greedily and wagged his tail furiously. "he feels at home now," said dick, and he was right. the dog leaped up, first on one and then another, and licked their hands. "what's your name?" asked tom, and the dog wagged his tail and gave a low, joyful bark. "better call him wags," suggested sam. "he seems to be death on keeping that tail going." "wags it is," announced tom. "how do you like it, wags, old boy?" and the dog barked again and leaped up and down several times in joy. "vell, he vos goot enough," was hans' comment. "bud i ton't see vy he couldn't introduce himselluf by der daydime alretty. i vos going to ped again," and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. "so am i going to bed," said fred. "tom, are you going to stay awake to watch the dog?" "no, he is going to sleep with me," answered the fun-loving youth. "come on, wags, get your nightcap and come to bed." he made a certain move of his hand and the canine suddenly sat upon his haunches and cocked his head to one side. "hullo, he's a trick dog!" exclaimed dick. "shake hands," and the dog did so. then, as sam snapped his fingers, the animal began to walk around the camp on his hind legs. "i'll wager he knows a lot of tricks," said tom. "and, if so, he must be valuable." "then whoever owns him will want him back," was songbird's comment. "well, i guess he can travel with us until somebody claims him," said tom; and so it was decided. chapter xii the runaway steer on the following morning there was the promise of a storm in the air, and the boys felt a bit blue over the prospects. but, by nine o'clock, the sun came out as brightly as ever and they were correspondingly elated. "i don't care to do any camping out in wet weather," said fred. "i got enough of that at the hall." "well, when you camp out, you must take what comes, as the shark said when he swallowed a naval officer and found a sword sticking in his throat," answered tom. "we can't have the weather built to order for anybody." wags was up and moving around, with his tail wagging as furiously as ever. he seemed to feel perfectly at home. "acts as if he had known us all our lives," said dick. "he is certainly a fine creature, or he will be after he is fed up a bit." "if he belongs around here, i don't see how he should be starved," said sam. "well, you must remember, there are some pretty poor folks living in these parts, sam. the colored folks are passionately fond of dogs, and very often they don't have enough to support themselves." "i am going to claim wags as my own until his rightful owner comes along," announced tom. "maybe i'll even take him home with me. our old dog is dead." this was final, and nobody saw fit to dispute the decision. so wags was given his breakfast, after which the party struck camp, and the journey for the denton plantation was continued. the timber passed, they came out on a long stretch of prairie land leading to the high hills beyond. "here we are on the plains!" cried sam. "who wants to race?" and off he rode at top speed, with some of the others following. even wags seemed to enjoy the brush, and barked continually as he ran ahead and leaped up before one horse and then another. sam's wild ride on the plains lasted rather longer than the others had anticipated, and when it came to an end, all found themselves away from the beaten trail which they had been pursuing. they came to a sudden stop and gazed around in perplexity. "here's a mess," said dick. "where's the trail?" "that is what i want to know." "i think it is over yonder." "i think it is in the opposite direction." all of the boys began to talk at once, and then followed a dead silence for several seconds. "one thing is certain--the trail can't be in two directions," said tom. "he can pe if he vos krooked," said hans wisely. "it was a fairly straight trail," observed fred. "i can't see how we happened to leave it." "i was following sam," said songbird. "you can't blame me." "so was i following sam," added several of the others. "and i was having a good time on the horse," said the youngest rover. "i thought in the bunch there would be at least one who would look after the trail." "so it is really nobody's fault," said dick quickly, to avoid a possible quarrel. "the question is: how are we going to find the trail again?" "i know how," put in hans calmly. "how?" "look for him." "thanks, awfully," said tom. "that is a bright as a burnt-out match." "just the same, that is what we will have to do, tom," said dick. "let us divide up, and some go to the right and some to the left." this was considered a good plan and was carried out without delay. ten minutes later, songbird set up a shout: "upon this ground, the trail is found. all come right here and see it clear." "good for songbird!" cried tom. "he gets a last year's tomato as a reward. songbird, will you have it in tissue paper or a trunk?" "well, the trail is plain enough," was dick's comment, as he came riding up. "i can't see how we missed such a well-defined path." the run had tired their horses somewhat, and all were willing to proceed further on a walk. they were coming to a fringe of bushes on the plain, and here found a stream of water. "not a ranch or a plantation of any kind in sight," announced fred as he gazed around while some of the steeds obtained a drink. "what a wilderness certain portions of our country are!" "plenty of chances for emigrants," returned songbird. "we are a long way from being filled up." "the trouble is, so i have heard father say, so many of the emigrants stay in the big cities, rather than come out to the country," put in sam. having rested for a spell at the brook, they proceeded on their way once more. the air was growing warmer and, as the sun mounted higher in the sky, they wished they were in the shadow of a forest once more. "what a journey it must be to cover some of the immense western plains on horseback," remarked songbird. "to ride for miles and miles--maybe all day--without seeing a cabin or a human being." "we know something of that," answered dick. "we liked our trip out west, though," he added. toward the middle of the afternoon they reached the first stunted growth of timber growing at the base of the hills toward which they had been journeying. at noon, as it was so hot, they had not stopped for lunch, and now they proceeded to make themselves comfortable on a patch of thick grass. even wags was willing to lie down and stretch out. the dog acted as if he had been a member of the party since starting from home. "are you going to blame me for going wrong?" demanded the poetic youth. "i wonder if he would be any good after game?" said sam as he looked at wags. "i doubt it," said tom. "an educated dog--that is, a trick dog--rarely knows anything else. but, nevertheless, i think wags remarkably bright." it was not until four o'clock that they went on once more. according to what they had been told, they ought now to be coming in sight of a cattle ranch kept by some old cattle men, but nothing like a ranch appeared. "this is queer, to say the least," remarked tom as they came to a halt in a small clearing. "what do you make of it, dick?" "i shouldn't like to say, just yet." "do you think we are on the wrong trail?" queried fred quickly. "we may be." "of dot is so, den, py jiminatics, ve vos lost!" ejaculated hans. "now, vosn't dot lofly alretty?" "lost?" cried fred. "that's the size of it," cried songbird. "we must have taken to the wrong trail after our little race." "you found the trail for us," remarked tom dryly. "not a bit of it," said dick. "all of us were to blame, for we all thought it was the right trail. the one question is: where are we, and where is the right trail?" "and a big question to answer, dick," came from sam. "for all we know, we may be miles and miles off the road." "no use of crying over spilt oil, as the lamp said to the wick," sang out tom. "i move we go on until we strike a ranch, or plantation, or something." "that is what we'll have to do, unless we want to go back." "no going back in this!" shouted several, and then they moved forward as before, but at a slower rate of speed. it was truly warm work, and it must be confessed that all were more or less worried. in the last town at which they had stopped, they had met a number of undesirable characters, and one man had told dick that not a few outlaws were roaming around, ready to pick up stray horses, or money, or whatever they could get their hands upon. they were passing through a bit of sparse timber, when they heard a strange tramping at a distance. "what do you think that can be?" questioned fred, coming to a halt, followed by the others. "horses," suggested hans. "sounds to me like cattle," said dick. "but i don't see so much as a cow, do you?" "nothing whatever in sight," said tom. as the noise continued, sam's horse began to grow skittish and showed some inclination to bolt. "steady, there!" sang out the youngest rover. "none of that, now!" and he did his best to hold the steed in check. "something is coming!" cried tom a few seconds later. "something running pretty well, too!" by instinct, all turned to the side of the trail, sam taking a position between a clump of trees and a big rock. swiftly the sound came closer, and then of a sudden a big and wild-looking steer broke into view, lumbering along the trail at his best speed. "a steer!" "look out, fellows, he is wild and ugly!" "he looks as if he meant to horn somebody!" so the cries rang out, and all of the boys drew further to the side of the trail. as the steer came up, he paused and gazed at them in commingled wonder and anger. "he is going to charge--" began tom, when, with a fierce snort, the steer wheeled to one side and charged upon sam and his horse at full speed! chapter xiii jim jones, the cowboy to some of the boys it looked as if sam and his steed must surely be seriously injured, if not killed. the steer was large and powerful looking, and his horns were sharp enough to inflict serious damage. "back up, sam!" screamed tom. poor sam could not back very well, and now his horse was thoroughly unmanageable. closer came the steer, until his wicked looking horns were but a foot away. at that critical moment a shot rang out, so close at hand that it made all of the boys jump. realizing the dire peril, dick had drawn the pistol he carried and fired at the steer. his aim was fair, and the beast was struck in the ribs. "good for you, dick!" burst out poor sam. "give him another," he added, as he tried to quiet his horse and keep the steed from pitching him to the ground. dick was quite willing to take another shot, but to get into range was not so easy. songbird's horse was between himself and the steer, and the latter was plunging around in a manner that was dangerous for the entire party. but at last the eldest rover saw his opportunity, and once more the pistol rang out on the summer air. the shot took the steer in the left ear and he gave a loud snort of pain and staggered as if about to fall. "he is about done for!" cried tom. "i am glad of it." the steer continued to plunge around for fully two minutes and all took good care to keep out of his reach. then he took a final plunge and fell over on his side, breathing heavily and rolling his eyes the while. "i reckon i had better give him a final shot," was dick's comment, and, dismounting, he came forward and fired directly into the beast's eye. it was a finishing move, and, with a convulsive shudder, the steer lay still, and the unexpected encounter came to an end. "well, i am glad that is over," said sam as he wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. "i thought he was going to horn me, sure!" "he would have done so, had it not been for dick," returned tom. "i know it. dick, i shan't forget this." "what's to be done about the steer?" asked songbird. "it seems a pity to leave him here." "vot is der madder mit cutting him ub for meats?" put in hans. "ve can haf some nice steak ven ve go into camp next dime, hey?" "that's a scheme," said fred. at that moment, wags, who had kept in the background so long as the steer was raging around, set up a sharp barking. "what's wrong now?" asked tom, turning to the dog. "somebody may be coming," suggested dick. "i'll show you fellers wot's wrong!" cried a rough voice, and through the brushwood close by there crashed a broncho, on top of which rode a rough-looking cowboy, wearing a red shirt and a big slouch hat. "who went and shot that steer?" "i did," answered dick. "was he yours?" "he was, and you had no right to touch him," growled the cowboy. "didn't i, though?" said dick. "are you aware that he came close to hurting us? he charged full tilt at my brother's horse." "stuff and fairy tales, boy. that steer was all right. he broke away from the drove, but he wouldn't hurt a flea." "we know better," put in tom. "if my brother hadn't killed him, he would probably have killed my horse, and maybe me," added sam. "somebody has got to pay for the damage done," growled the cowboy. "i am not going to stand for it, not me, so sure as my name is jim jones." and he shook his head determinedly. "well, mr. jones, i am sorry i had to kill your steer, but it had to be done, and that is all there is to it," said dick calmly. "that ain't payin' for the critter, is it?" "no." "an' do you reckon i'm goin' to let the boss take the price out o' my wages?" continued jim jones warmly. "isn't the steer worth something as meat?" "yes, but not near as much as he was wuth on the hoof." "we might take up a collection for mr. jones, if he is a poor man," suggested songbird, who did not want any trouble. "but we haven't got to do it," broke in tom. "it was his business not to let the steer run wild in the first place." "so you're going to take a hand, eh?" stormed the cowboy; then, feeling he was in the minority, he went on more humbly: "yes, i'm a poor man, and this may get me discharged." "how much do you think we ought to pay?" asked dick. "name a reasonable price and i may settle, just to avoid trouble, and not because i think i ought to pay." "how about fifty dollars?" asked the cowboy with a shrewd look in his fishy, blue eyes. "cut it in half, and i may meet you," came from dick. "he was no blue-ribbon animal." the cowboy tried to argue, but the rovers and their chums would not listen, and in the end jim jones said he would accept twenty-five dollars and let it go at that. he said he would have the steer carted away before night. "where do you come from?" asked dick after paying over the money. "from the cassibel ranch, sixty miles north-west from here. i and my pard were driving some cattle to town, when this steer got scared at a rattlesnake and broke away." "i don't blame him," said fred. "i'd get scared at a rattlesnake, myself." "do you know the way to mr. carson denton's plantation?" went on dick. "sure." "this is not the right trail, is it?" "not by a long shot. the right trail is four miles from here." "will you direct us to the right road?" asked dick. "sure thing," answered jim jones. he paused for a moment. "want to get there the easiest way possible, i reckon?" "of course." "well, then, keep to this trail for half a mile further. then, when you come to the blasted hemlock, take the trail to the left. that will take you through the upper end of the next town and right on to denton's." "thanks," said dick. "is it a good road?" "fine, after the fust few miles are passed. there are a few bad spots at first, but you mustn't mind them." "we shan't mind," came from sam. "we have struck some bad spots already." a few additional words passed, and then all of the boys rode along the trail as the cowboy had pointed out. jim jones, standing beside the dead steer, watched them out of sight and chuckled loudly to himself. "reckon i squared accounts with 'em," he muttered. "got twenty-five dollars in cash and the animile, and if they foller thet trail as i told 'em--well, there ain't no tellin' where they'll fotch up. but it won't be denton's ranch, not by a long shot!" and he laughed heartily to himself. all unconscious that they had been wrongly directed by jim jones, the rover boys and their chums continued their journey. when they reached the hemlock that had been struck by lightning, they took to the other path as directed. "i am sorry i didn't ask how far that town was," said dick. "for all we know, we may be miles away from it." "if it gets too late, we had better go into camp for the night," suggested songbird, and so it was agreed. the coming of night found them in something of a hollow between two ranges of hills. the trail was soft and spongy, and the horses frequently sank in over their hoofs. "this is something i didn't bargain for," observed songbird. "i trust we don't get stuck and have to go back." "that cowboy said the trail would be poor for a while," came from fred. they continued to go forward, on the lookout for some suitable spot where they might camp for the night. the thought of reaching a town had faded away an hour before. "gosh! this is getting worse!" cried tom. "be careful, hans!" he called to the german youth, who was ahead. "vot's dot?" sang out the other. "i said, be careful. you don't want to sink through to china, do you?" "not much i ton't," was the answer. "oh!" hans let out a loud cry of alarm, and with good reason. his horse had struck a sink-hole, as they are called on the plains, and gone down to his knees. he made such a plunge that poor hans was thrown over his head, to land full length in an oozy, sticky bog. "stop!" cried dick, as soon as he saw this accident. "don't go any further, fellows, it's dangerous!" "hellup! safe me!" roared hans, trying in vain to extricate himself from the oozy bog, while his horse did the same. "hellup, oder i peen drowned in der mud alretty!" chapter xiv out of an unpleasant situation not one of the party was just then in a position to give poor hans any assistance. all were stuck in the ooze, and one horse after another was slowly but surely sinking. "we must turn back," cried songbird, "and do it in a hurry, too." "easier said than done," grunted fred. "my, this is worse than glue!" "i think the ground on our left is a bit firmer than here," said sam. "i am going to try it, anyway." not without considerable difficulty, he turned his steed, and after a struggle the spot he had indicated was gained. dick followed, and so did tom. the rovers were safe, but not so their chums. hans was the worst off, but fred and songbird were likewise in positions of serious peril. wags was flying around, barking dismally, as though he understood that all was not right. "turn this way!" called out sam. "it's your one hope!" "let me have that rope you are carrying, tom," said dick, and having received the article, he threw one end to hans, who was still floundering around. "catch hold, hans, and i'll haul you over!" as the rope fell across the german youth's body, he caught it tightly in both hands, and, as dick, tom and sam pulled with might and main, he fairly slid on his breast to where they were standing. "mine gracious, dot vos somedings awful!" he exclaimed. "it vos so sticky like molasses alretty!" "now, we must help the others," said dick. "songbird is out," exclaimed sam. the rope was thrown to fred, and with a great tug he was finally brought out of the ooze. "nearly took my hand off," he declared. "but i don't care--anything is better than to be stuck in such a spot as that." the horses were still floundering desperately, and it was little that they could do for the beasts. one went in one direction and the others in another, but at last all appeared to be safe, although covered with the sticky mud and slime. "that's an adventure i didn't bargain for," was tom's comment. "do you know what i think? i think that cowboy sent us into this on purpose." "maybe he did," came from dick. "did it, i suppose, to get square because we didn't pay him all he thought the steer was worth." to round up the horses was no easy task, and by the time this was accomplished it was long past dark. they searched around for a suitable spot and then went into camp. "this trip is lasting longer than i expected," remarked dick when they were around the camp-fire preparing an evening meal. "i trust the others don't get worried about us." "oh, i guess they know that we can take care of ourselves," answered tom. "i wish i had that cowboy here," muttered sam. "i'd give him a piece of my mind." "i think we'd all do that," added fred. "i vos gif him a biece of mine mind from der end of mine fist," said hans, and this made them all laugh. the camping spot was not a particularly good one, yet all slept soundly. they left wags on guard, but nothing came to disturb them. it was misty in the morning and so raw that they shivered as they prepared to start off. how to proceed was a question, and it took them a good quarter of an hour to decide it. "it would be folly to go deeper into this bog, or swamp," said dick. "i vote we keep to the high ground." "that's the talk," said sam. "maybe, when we get up far enough, we will have a chance to look around us." as well as they were able, they had cleaned off the horses and themselves, and now they took good care to keep from all ground that looked in the least bit treacherous. "here is a new trail," cried tom after about two miles had been covered. "and it seems to lead up a hill, too." "then that is the trail for us," put in songbird, and they took to the new trail without further words. "songbird, i don't hear any poetry," observed dick as they rode along. "what's the matter?" "can't make up poetry in such a dismal place as this," was the answer in a disgusted voice. "i wish we were out of this woods, and out of the mist, too. i declare, it's enough to give a fellow malaria." the sun was trying to break through the mist, which was an encouraging sign. here and there a bird set up a piping note, but otherwise all was as quiet as a tomb. "i see something of a clearing ahead," announced sam presently. "and a trail!" cried fred. "thank fortune for that!" the clearing reached, they found a well-defined trail running to the southwestward. "that must run to caville," announced dick. "see, there is a regular wagon track." "i hope it is the right road," returned fred. they were soon out on the plains again, and then into another patch of timber. they had to ford a small stream, and on the other side came to a fork in the trail. "which way now?" questioned sam, as all came to a halt in perplexity. "this seems to be the main road, although it is hard to tell one from the other," said dick after an examination. the others agreed with the eldest rover, and once more they went forward. but, in less than a mile, they saw that the road was not in as good a condition as that left behind. "this looks as if we had made a mistake," observed fred. "oh, what luck we are having!" "i'd like to know--" began tom, when he stopped abruptly, for out of the brushwood an old man had stepped, gun in hand. "you-uns, hold on!" cried the old man. "hullo, what do you want?" asked dick. "i want for you-uns to turn around an' go tudder way." "isn't this the trail to caville?" "no, it ain't, an' you-uns can't come this way, nohow." "is it a private road?" "yes." "where does it lead to?" "that ain't none o' you-uns' business," said the old man curtly. "you-uns is on the wrong road, an' have got to turn back." "supposing we don't turn back?" questioned tom, who did not fancy the style in which they were being addressed. at this, the old man tapped his gun. "orders is to turn 'em back, or shoot," he answered simply. "this are a private road. don't ye see the wire fence?" they looked into the brushwood and saw a single strand of wire stretched from tree to tree on each side of the trail. "not much of a fence," was songbird's comment. "it's enough, an' you-uns can't come no further." "maybe you live beyond," said sam curiously. "maybe i do, an' maybe i don't. it ain't none of you-uns' business." "you are very civil, i must say." "don't you git fly, boy, or this ole gun o' mine might go off. this ain't no trail fer you-uns, an' you-uns have got to turn back." "will you tell us if that other trail runs to caville?" asked dick. "it don't run nowheres." the old man grinned for a moment. "it stays where it are. but if you-uns travel along it for about five miles, ye'll reach the town." "and you won't tell us whose road this is?" came from tom. "it ain't none of you-uns' business, thet ain't. better turn back an' have done with it." the old man showed plainly that he did not wish to converse further. he stood in the center of the trail, with his gun ready for instant use. "we made a mistake before and got into a sink-hole," said dick. "we don't want to make another mistake." "take tudder trail an' you-uns will be all right," answered the old man, and thereupon they turned around and rode off. "what a crusty old fellow!" said sam. "yes, but he meant business," came from fred. "he would have shot at us sure, had we insisted upon moving forward." "there is some mystery about this," said dick. "perhaps he lives a hermit life down that trail," suggested songbird. "it looked more to me as if he was on guard," put in sam. "he certainly meant business." "if we had time, i'd sneak around to one side and see what was beyond." "yes, and get shot," said fred. "we had better take his advice and go on to caville." it did not take them long to reach the fork in the road, and here they turned into the other trail. they had proceeded less than fifty yards, when dick put up his hand. "somebody is coming behind us," he announced. they halted at a turn in the road and looked back. two persons soon appeared, both on horse-back. they were riding at a good gait and turned into the trail which was guarded by the old man. "well, i never!" cried tom in amazement. "i recognized the first man," said sam. "it was that bushy-haired fellow. i think somebody said his name was sack todd." "that's the chap," replied dick. "but didn't you recognize the other?" "no." "it was dan baxter." chapter xv something of a mystery "dan baxter!" the cry came simultaneously from several of the crowd. "i think dick is right," said songbird. "i thought it must be dan, but i wasn't sure, for i didn't expect to see him here." "he and that sack todd must have become friends," put in tom. "i would like to know what dan is doing out here." "he is certainly up to no good," answered dick. "i must say this adds to the mystery, doesn't it, boys?" "that's what it does," chimed in sam. "i wish we could catch baxter and bring him to justice." "or reform him," came from dick. "reform him, dick!" cried tom. "that would be mighty uphill work." "it isn't in him," added fred. "he is tee-totally bad." "i used to think that of dan's father, but arnold baxter has reformed--and he wants his son to do likewise." "well, that isn't here or there," said tom after a pause. "what are we to do just now?" "let us push on to town first," answered songbird. "after that, we can rearrange our plans if we wish." this was considered good advice, and once again they urged their steeds along. coming to a high point in the trail, they made out caville a mile distant, and rode into the town about noon. it was not much of a place, and the single hotel afforded only the slimmest of accommodations. but they had to be satisfied, and so made the best of it. the meal over, dick strolled into the office of the tavern, where he found the proprietor sitting in a big wooden chair leaning against the counter. "quite a town," began the eldest rover cheerfully. "wall, it ain't so bad but what it might be wuss, stranger. did the grub suit ye?" "it did." "glad to hear it, stranger. sometimes the folks from the big cities find fault. expect me to run a reg'lar aster-delmonicum, or sumthin' like that." "it is very hard to suit everybody," said dick. "by the way," he went on, "do you know a man around these parts named sack todd?" "do i know him? to be sure i do, stranger. friend o' yourn?" "not exactly, but i have met him a few times. where does he live?" "lives over to red rock ranch, quite a few miles from here." "alone?" "not exactly. he has a cousin there, i believe, and some others. but i wouldn't advise you to go over to the ranch, nohow." "why?" "sack todd don't take to visitors. the story goes that a visitor once stopped there an' shot his wife and robbed her, an' since that time he ain't had no use fer anybody, only them as he knows very well." "does he run the ranch for a living?" "don't know but what he does, but he don't work very hard a-doin' it." "is there an old man working for him--a fellow with thin shoulders and reddish hair?" "yes; an' he's a sour pill, too." "he must be an odd stick, to keep himself so close." "yes; but sack's a good spender, when he's in the humor of it. sometimes he comes to town with a wad o' money an' treats everybody right an' left. then ag'in he comes in an' won't notice nobody." here the talk came to an end, for the hotel man had to attend to some new arrivals. dick joined the others and all took a walk, so that their conversation might not be overheard. "this only adds to the mystery," said tom after dick had repeated what the tavern keeper had said. "i am more anxious now than ever to visit red rock ranch, as they call it." "so am i," added sam. "and remember, we want to catch dan baxter if we can." "well, we can't go ahead and back too, boys," came from dick. "if we really mean to investigate, we ought to send mr. denton and the ladies and the girls word. if we don't, and we are delayed any great length of time, they will be sure to worry about us." "maybe we can telephone," suggested songbird. "don't you see the wires? some of the plantations must have the service." "that's the talk!" cried fred. "let us try it, anyway." they walked to the nearest station and looked over the book. but the denton plantation was not mentioned. "we can send a letter," said dick. "that will get there before they have a chance to worry." they returned to the tavern, and there the communication was written, and later on dropped in the post-office. then they held another consultation. "those fellows around that ranch are all armed beyond a doubt," said tom. "i think we ought to get something in the shape of firearms." "we've got a gun and a pistol now," answered dick. "say, i ton't vos go pack of der been schootin' goin' on!" cried hans. "i tole you dot sack todd been a pad man." "you can remain behind, hans," returned sam. "he can go on to mr. denton's," said songbird. "not much--i stick py der crowd," said the german youth. he thought it worse to leave them than to confront any possible perils. their horses had been fed and cared for, and by the middle of the afternoon each was provided with a pistol, the extra weapons being secured at the local hardware establishment. "afraid of outlaws?" questioned the man who sold the pistols. "there is nothing like being armed," answered dick. "on some of these trails, there is no telling what sort of persons you will meet." "i've got an idea," said tom when they were on the street again. "why not take our time and move on red rock ranch after dark?" "and lose our way," came from sam. "well, we can't use that trail in the daylight. that old man will be sure to halt us." "we can get around the old man somehow," said songbird. "as soon as we spot him, we can make a detour." by four o'clock, they were on the way. not to excite suspicions on the part of any of sack todd's friends who might happen to be around, they left caville by a side trail and then took to the back road after the last of the houses of the town had been passed. "i'd just like a long ride over the prairie," cried sam. "i know i'd enjoy every minute of it." they had proceeded less than a mile when hans went to the front. "i dink dis horse vants to let himself out a leetle," said he. "i'll race you," said sam, and away they started at a breakneck speed. "hold on!" cried dick. "don't tire yourselves out in that fashion. we've got a good many miles to go yet." but neither of the racers paid any attention, and soon they were a good distance to the front. hans was doing his best to keep ahead of the youngest rover, and, as his steed was a little the better of the two, he had small difficulty in accomplishing his object. but, alas, for the poor german boy! the race made him careless of where he was going, and soon he found himself on the very edge of a swamp, similar to that encountered before. "whoa!" he yelled to his horse. "whoa!" and then he added: "sam, go pack kvick!" "what's wrong, hans?" "it ist all vet aroundt here, und i--du meine zeit!" as the german youth finished, his horse stepped into a fair-sized hole on the edge of the swamp. on the instant, a cloud arose from the hole. "hornets!" screamed sam, and backed away with all speed. "hellup! hellup!" yelled hans. "ouch! oh, my!" and then he tried to back away. but the hornets were angry at being disturbed in their nest and went at him and his horse with vigor. "something is wrong with hans," observed dick, looking ahead. "see, his nag is dancing around as if it was crazy." "oh, me; oh, my!" roared hans, slapping to the right and to the left. "i vos stung in more as a hundred blaces. hellup me, somepotty! dis vos der vorse yet alretty! git avay, you hornets! i gif you fife dollars to git avay!" "ride off, hans," called out fred. "don't stay near the hornets' nest. it will only make it so much the worse for you." thus advised, hans backed and started off. but, instead of going off by himself, he rode directly into the crowd. "hi, you, keep away!" sang out tom, and then, as a hornet alighted on his nose, he went on: "whow! haven't you any sense?" "anypotty vot vonts dem hornets can haf dem, free of charge, mit drading stamps drown in," answered hans. "git avay!" and he rode on. "the cheek of him!" put in fred, who was also bitten. "we ought to drive him back into the hole." "not on mine life!" said hans. "i vos so stung now i can't see mine eyes out of, ain't it!" all lost no time in getting away from the vicinity of the hornets' nest, and presently the pests left them and went back to the hole, to see what damage had been done. "this is an experience i didn't bargain for," said songbird, who had been stung in the cheek. "maybe you'd like to make up some poetry about it," grumbled tom. "oh, how my chin hurts!" "and my ear!" "and my nose!" "humph! look at my eye!" so the talk ran on, and the crowd looked at each other in their misery. but the sights were too comical and, despite the pain, each had to laugh at the others. "didn't know you had so much cheek, songbird." "my, what an awful smeller fred's got!" "dick's left hand is a regular boxing glove." "i'm going to put some soft mud on the hand," returned dick. "there is nothing better to draw out the pain of a hornet's sting." "den gif me some of dot mut, too," said hans. "i ton't vos care how he looks, so long as it makes me feel easier." mud was easy to procure, and all used it liberally, and before long the pain and swelling began to go down. but their sufferings did not cease entirely until many hours afterwards, while poor hans could not use one eye for two days. "after this, we had better keep our eyes open for hornets' nests," observed dick. "i certainly don't want to be stung again," said sam. "i believe a fellow could be stung to death by such pests," ventured fred. "yes, and a horrible death it would be," answered dick. the encounter with the hornets had delayed them greatly, and it was getting toward nightfall before they went on their way again. "we may as well take our time," said tom. "we can't reach red rock ranch until to-morrow." after crossing a level stretch of prairie, they came to the edge of a woods. not far off was a shack similar to those to be seen all over this section of our country. "hullo, here is a house," cried dick. "i wonder if anybody lives here?" he dismounted and, walking forward, looked into the shack. on a bed of boughs a heavy-set man was sleeping. "hullo, there!" called out the eldest of the rovers. the man sat up in alarm and made a movement as if to draw a pistol. "what do you want of me?" he asked roughly. chapter xvi a scene from a treetop "i don't know as we want anything of you," said dick. "we chanced to be riding by, that is all." "oh!" the man looked relieved and let his hand drop from his pistol pocket. "are you alone?" "no, there is quite a crowd of us." at this, the man leaped up and looked out of the open doorway of the shack. his face fell again when he saw so many, and all well mounted. "may i ask what you are doing here?" he questioned, turning his sharp eyes on dick once more. "we are doing a bit of traveling overland. we were on a houseboat, but we got tired of riding on the mississippi." "i see. one of them 'personally conducted tours' a feller reads about in them magazines, eh?" "that is pretty close to it," and dick smiled, more to throw the man off his guard than any-thing else. he did not like the looks of the stranger in the least. "don't go an' git lost, young man. have ye a guide?" "no, but i don't think we are going to get lost. what place do you call this?" the eldest rover continued, thinking to ask some questions himself, and thus keep the fellow from becoming too inquisitive. "this is pluggins' palace;" the man gave a short laugh. "did ye ever hear of pluggins?" "no." "pluggins was a pretty fair sort, but had a habit of stickin' his nose into other folks' business. one day, so the story goes, he went too far, and nobody has seen him since." "was he killed?" the man shrugged his shoulders. "don't ask me, stranger. he disappeared, and that was the end of him. he used to live here, and the boys writ that motto to his memory." and the man pointed to a wall, upon which hung a board, on which had been painted the following: this is in memory of silas pluggins he was a good man but he could not keep his nose from others bissness. take warning.! dick read the lines with deep interest, and so did all of the others. "they didn't know much about sign painting, but they evidently knew what they wanted to say," remarked tom. "do you live here now?" he added, to the strange man. "no; i was only taking a nap, that's all." "are you on foot?" asked fred. "no, my hoss is close by." the man gave a loud whistle, and soon a slick-looking mare came into view from behind the shack. "reckon i must be goin'." he pointed to the board on the wall. "kind of a sign to set a feller to thinkin', eh?" "just a bit," returned dick dryly. "it don't do to stick your nose into what don't concern you. good-by." the man left the shack, leaped into the saddle on the mare, spoke to the steed and, in a second, was off like the wind around a turn in the woods. "gracious, but he can ride!" was tom's comment. "that mare is a peach!" "another mystery," came from dick. he gazed at the board on the wall. "do you know what i think?" "what?" asked songbird. "that is an out-and-out warning--" "sure." "a warning meant for just such persons as ourselves." "you mean it is a warning to keep away from red rock ranch?" asked sam. "i do. and i think that fellow was on guard, just as the old man was on that other road." "if he was, why didn't he stop us, then?" "because we took him unawares, and because he saw that we were too many for him." "by jinks, dick, i think you are right!" cried tom. "and, if you are, it is more than likely that he has gone to the ranch to warn sack todd." "exactly, and that means warning dan baxter, too. i tell you, boys, there is something behind all this, and i, for one, am in favor of doing our best to solve the mystery." "i am with you." "so am i." "and i, dick! you can count on me!" "vell, ton't i vos here, too?" came from hans. "but we must go slow," said tom. "it would be nonsense to rush forward. we'd be certain to walk into some trap." the matter was talked over, and it was decided to leave the vicinity of the shack before making an extended halt. they did not know but what the strange man would come back accompanied by sack todd, dan baxtex and others equally willing to do them harm. they plunged into the woods in the direction the man had taken, but, coming to a brook, rode their steeds down the watercourse for half a mile, thus completely destroying their trail. then they came out and urged their now tired horses up a small hill, from which to get some idea of their surroundings. "it's too dark to see a thing," announced tom, after he and sam had mounted to the top of a tall tree. "but i think we could get a fine view from here in the daytime." again they held a discussion, and it was decided to go into camp where they were. they had brought some cooked food with them, so did not have to start a fire, and, being tired, all fell asleep in short order, leaving wags on guard, as they had done before. when they awoke, the sun was shining brightly. wags was missing, having gone to hunt up something to eat in the brush. all swallowed a hasty repast, washing it down with a drink from the brook. then tom climbed the tree again, followed this time by his big brother. "i see a ranch--out that way!" cried the fun-loving rover after a look around. "dick, can't you see it?" "yes, tom, and it must be the one we are seeking, for, see, there is a series of rocks behind it, and they are red." dick was right--the rocks were certainly there, and there could not be the slightest doubt regarding their color. the ranch was a long, low-lying place and so far off they could see it but imperfectly. "we may as well draw closer," said dick, and began to climb to the ground, followed by his brother. there was no path through the woods, and the tree branches were so low-hanging that they were willing enough to walk their horses. soon the tangle grew so thick they were forced to dismount and proceed on foot. "i trust we don't get into a pocket," said sam. "it would be a job to get back the way we came." "i see a clearing ahead," announced songbird a little later, and presently they reached an opening, in the midst of which grew a tall pine tree. "i'm going to shin that tree," announced sam, and went up, and so did all of the others, reaching the topmost branches only after a difficult climb lasting ten minutes. they were well rewarded for their efforts, for from the top of the tree they could see a long distance in all directions. but they had eyes only for the ranch, which now stood out strongly in the bright sunlight. "i see two men walking about the place," said sam. "but i can't make out their faces." "there is a big wagon approaching from a road yonder," announced dick. "it seems to be filled with hay." they watched the approach of the wagon, which lumbered along slowly, although drawn by a pair of powerful looking horses. at last, the wagon reached a side entrance to the ranch and came to a halt, and the driver dismounted. five minutes passed, and then four or five men came up to the wagon. the hay, which was on top, was cast aside, revealing some machinery resting on the bottom of the wagon. "some farming machinery," said fred. "but why did they have it covered with hay?" the men tugged at one of the pieces of machinery and at last lifted it from the wagon. but, instead of setting it on the ground, they disappeared with it into the ranch. "hullo!" ejaculated dick. "if that is farming machinery, why are they taking it into the house?" "maybe it's a heating apparatus," suggested sam. "yes, they need it in this weather," said tom sarcastically. "well, what is it, then?" "that remains to be found out," said dick. "this certainly is a place of mystery," he added. "it is assuredly no ordinary ranch." one piece of machinery after another was carried into the ranch, until the wagon was empty. then the turnout was taken into a big barn at the back of the ranch. "that show is over," said songbird. "i won-der what the next act in this drama will be?" they remained at the top of the tree for an hour or more. during that time, they saw several men moving around the ranch and some thick smoke coming from a broad chimney, but that was all. "how much longer are you going to stay here?" asked sam presently. "no longer," answered the eldest brother, starting to descend. "i am going to investigate this whole thing and find out just what it means!" chapter xvii the bank bills on the table "dick, this is a dangerous piece of business," said fred, after the entire party was again on the ground. "that's right," broke in songbird. "don't forget the warning on the wall of the shack." "i am not afraid," answered the eldest rover. "there is some great mystery here, and i feel it ought to be investigated. why, those men may be bandits, or something like that, for all we know." "they are certainly not on the level, or they wouldn't put up with a fellow like dan baxter," came from sam. "dot ist so," said hans. "at der same dime, ve ton't vont to put our mouths into der lion's head alretty!" "i've got a plan," said dick after a pause. "i do not think it a wise move for all of us to go forward at once. i think two will be enough. the others can stay here and await developments." "then you have got to take me with you," said sam promptly. "sam, you had better let me go with dick," put in tom. "no, i want to go," insisted the youngest rover, and so it was at last decided. "i don't see how you are going to approach that ranch in broad daylight," said fred. "as they have guards on the road, it is more than likely they have guards around the ranch also." "i think i'll wait until night, fred--or at least until it is dark." after that the boys spent the time in exploring the woods and looking over the plains beyond. they saw several wagon tracks, apparently leading to nowhere in particular, and they also found something of a cave, covered with logs and heaped-up brushwood. "something more to investigate," said tom, and began to pull the brushwood away, followed by his companions. the logs followed, and there was revealed to them an opening at least twenty feet square by half that in height. "what do you call this?" questioned tom, as he kicked something of metal lying under a pile of dead leaves. "it's a roller of some sort," answered songbird. "and see, here are some cog-wheels and a lot of old shafting." "machinery, and quite some of it, too," murmured dick. "they must run a regular factory of some sort here." "i think i have solved the problem!" cried fred. "i've read of this a number of times. this sack todd has a secret process of manufacturing some article and he doesn't want anybody to learn what the process is. so he has established himself here and sworn all his workmen to secrecy." "i've heard of that myself," said tom. "a man had a certain process of tanning leather. he kept his secret for years, until a workman got mad at him and gave the thing away." dick was inspecting the machinery with care. it was worn out and rusted, and hard to make out just what it was. "unless i am mistaken, these are parts of a printing press," said the eldest rover. "a printing press?" cried several of the others. "yes. but that doesn't solve the mystery of what the press was used for." it was damp and unwholesome in the cave, and they were glad enough to leave it and come out into the sunlight once more. they walked back to where they had left their horses, and here procured lunch, and fed all of the animals, including wags. slowly the afternoon wore away. it began to grow cloudy, and so became dark at an early hour. "we may as well start," said dick at last. "we can go to the edge of the woods, anyway." "i suppose you don't know when you will be back," said tom. "no, but probably in three or four hours." "take good care of yourselves." "we'll try to do that," put in sam. "if i were you, i'd not expose myself," was fred's advice. "those chaps are rough customers, and there is no telling what they would do if they caught you spying on them." "that is true." a few words more followed, and then dick and sam set off on their tour of inspection. each carried a pistol, and each felt that he could take care of himself. but neither dreamed of the dire peril which he was confronting. they had left their horses behind, and now found advancing on foot no easy task. in spots, the undergrowth was so dense they had to literally force their way through, and they also had to make two long detours to escape swamps and treacherous bog-holes. the mosquitoes and gnats were also bad and bothered them not a little. "i guess we are earning all we are getting out of this," grumbled sam as he came to a halt after pulling himself through a tangle of bushes and vines. "unless we take care, we'll have our jackets ripped off our backs." "do you want to turn back, sam?" "no, but i guess we had better go a little slower." dick was willing, and, as a consequence, by the time the edge of the timber was reached, the sun was sinking over the hills in the west, and it was growing dark. red rock ranch was now in plain view, not over two hundred yards distant. in front and to one side was a level stretch. the reddish rocks were behind, leading to a small hill. there were numerous outbuildings, and a heavy barbed fence surrounded the whole, excepting at one point, where there was a wide-swinging gate of wire and boards. "i think the best thing we can do is to work our way around to the rocks," said dick after studying the situation. "we can work up from the rocks to the outbuildings, and so on to the ranch itself--if we get the chance." with caution, they skirted the woods and inside of quarter of an hour reached the first of the series of rocks. as they crouched behind these, dick caught his brother by the arm. "keep quiet," he whispered. "i saw a man coming from the barn." after that, they remained motionless for ten minutes. at a distance, they saw two men coming and going from one building to another. they were evidently caring for the horses, cattle and poultry for the night. "they are gone," said sam presently, as he saw the men walk toward the ranch house and disappear. "wait--they may come out again." they waited, but the men did not reappear, and now it was growing darker rapidly. look as hard as they might in all directions, they could not see a single human being. "the coast seems to be clear now, sam." "yes, but it won't hurt to wait a few minutes longer," was the answer. as it grew darker, they saw several lights lit in the ranch. one was in the kitchen, one in what looked to be a bedroom and another in a small room in the main part of the building. the curtain over the window of the last-named room was up, and they could see the lamp quite plainly, resting on a table. "let us crawl up and take a look into the windows," whispered dick. "it seems to be safe enough now. if we hear anybody coming, we can lay down in the grass or behind a bush." hardly daring to breathe, they crawled from the shelter of the rocks to the nearest outbuildings, one given over to some chickens. from there, they advanced to a cow shed and then to one of the big barns. "i can see into the kitchen from here," whispered sam. "look!" they looked, and by the light of a big bracket lamp, made out two men and a boy moving about the kitchen, evidently preparing the evening meal. the door to the next room was open, and they caught a glimpse of several men at a table eating, or waiting to be served. "i'd like to know if dan baxter is in that crowd," said dick. they watched the scene for several minutes, but if the former bully of putnam hall was present he did not show himself. then a curtain was drawn down, shutting off their view. they next moved to the bedroom window, and there beheld a man lying on a couch, smoking a pipe. he seemed to be a refined individual, with a clean-shaven face and curly black hair. "he doesn't look as if he belonged to this crowd," was dick's comment. "he looks as if he might be a thorough gentleman." "he certainly looks like a city man," answered sam. "perhaps he has come to see this sack todd on business." "perhaps." they watched the man for several minutes and saw him get a letter from his pocket and read it attentively. then he closed his eyes as if to take a nap, throwing his pipe on a chair. "whoever he is, he is making himself at home," observed the youngest rover. "let us move on to the next window," said his brother. "now is our best chance to size up the place--while most of the crowd are getting their supper." as silently as before, they moved along in the darkness to where the light was streaming from the third window, not far from a corner of the ranch. then each of the boys raised himself up with the slowness of an indian on a trail. nobody seemed to be in the room, and, growing bolder, they drew nearer, until they could get a good view of the interior. they saw a table and several chairs, and also a desk and a safe. on the table was the lamp, and beside this, several piles of new, crisp bank bills. "my gracious! look at the money!" gasped sam. "why, there must be thousands and thousands of dollars there, dick!" "you are right." "sack todd must be very wealthy." "unless--" and the eldest rover paused. "unless what?" "unless those bank bills are counterfeit." chapter xviii dick and sam become prisoners "do you really think those are counterfeit, dick?" gasped sam. "more than likely. don't you remember the machinery? that printing press--" "yes, yes! it's as clear as day. this must be a regular den, and sack todd--" sam got no further, for, at that moment, he felt himself seized from behind. a pair of strong arms were thrown around him, so that he could scarcely budge. dick was attacked in a similar fashion, and, though both of the rovers struggled desperately, they found that their assailants had the advantage. "caught you good and proper, didn't we?" came in the voice of sack todd. "let me go!" cried dick. "not much, young man. have you got the other one, jimson?" "i have," answered the second man, a fellow with a long nose. "and he won't get away in a hurry. i'm thinking." "we had better take 'em inside," went on sack todd. "just as you say," answered andy jimson. "i reckon you boys remember me," he went on with a grin. "you are the man who was on that lumber raft that came near running down our houseboat," said dick. "struck it, fust clip. didn't expect to meet me ag'in, did ye?" "i did not." "wanted to shoot me, didn't ye?" "didn't you deserve it?" asked sam boldly. "you came mighty close to sinking us." "oh, that was only a bit of fun on the part o' the feller who owned the raft. he knew what he was doin'. but i reckon you didn't know what you were doin' when you spied on sack and his outfit," continued the long-nosed man sarcastically. "they'll know what they were doing before i am through with 'em," said the owner of red rock ranch. "what are you going to do with us?" demanded dick. "that remains to be seen." "you had better let us go." at this, sack todd set up a laugh of derision. "you'll not leave here yet awhile, young man i heard what you and your friend said just before we closed in on you. do you suppose i am going to let you get out and blab about what you have discovered?" his harsh tone made both dick and sam shiver. they felt that they were dealing with a hardened criminal and, most likely, one who would stop at nothing in order to attain his object. "i must say it was a fool move to let that money lay around loose," was andy jimson's comment, and he nodded toward the piles of bank bills. "one of the men just brought them up, and i hadn't time to put them away," explained the owner of the ranch. "besides, i didn't think there were spies around." "maybe there are more of them, sack." "that's so!" ejaculated sack todd. he turned to the boys: "have you any friends near?" "that is for you to find out," answered dick. "you can be sure of one thing, though," he added. "if you don't let us go, you will get into serious trouble." "there was a big crowd of 'em on that houseboat," put in jimson. "i know there was a crowd--i met 'em some days ago. we'll march these off and then look around and see if there are others," continued the owner of red rock ranch. as it would have been useless to struggle, the boys did not attempt to get away. both sack todd and jimson were heavily armed, and dick and sam felt that they would shoot upon the slightest provocation. the owner of the ranch uttered a shrill whistle, and in a moment two men came running out of the dining-room of the ranch. each carried a gun. "what's wanted, boss?" they asked. "we have captured two spies," answered sack todd. "spies!" "yes. we want you to place them down below and then come and follow us. we are going to see if there are any more of them around." the two men placed their guns over their backs and took hold of sam and dick. "don't let them slip you," added the owner of the ranch. "i reckon they're a pretty slick pair." "they shan't slip us; eh, spud?" "nary a slip, scutty," returned the second new-comer. "then you don't intend to let us go?" asked dick. "no." "this is a high-handed proceeding." "is it? well, down here, we sometimes take the law into our own hands," chuckled the owner of red rock ranch. "then, if the law ever gets hold of you, it will go so much harder with you," said sam. "bah! do you suppose i am going to argue with a kid like you?" growled sack todd. "take 'em below," he said, turning to his men. there was no help for it, as others were coming to the scene. as the boys marched into the ranch, they came face to face with dan baxter. "dick rover!" gasped the bully. "and sam! what does this mean?" "so you know these fellows?" said one of the men. "of course i do. i was telling sack todd about them. i used to go to school with them. what are they doing here?" "the boss and jimson found them spying around the place." "oh, i see." dan baxter grinned. "so you've got yourselves in a nice pickle, eh?" "baxter, have you joined this crowd?" asked dick. the bully started. "why--that's my business," he stammered. "perhaps it is, but you might be in something better," put in sam. "oh, you needn't preach to me!" "don't you know that these men are counterfeiters?" added dick. "you had better shut up, kid," put in one of the men. "you are in our power, and the less you say, the better off you'll be, see?" "i have spoken nothing but the truth." "that may be so, too; but folks don't always like to hear the truth." "what are you going to do with them?" questioned dan baxter curiously. "put them in a place we have ready for just such skunks." "prisoners?" "sure." "down below?" "that's it." dan baxter grinned to himself, and then leered at sam and dick. "you won't like that. it's pretty musty under-ground, and wet, too." "i'd rather go there than do what you have done, baxter," answered dick. "what have i done?" "you have joined these law-breakers; you need not deny it." "humph!" "you may think it smart, but some day you'll rue it." "i don't think so. as it is, the law and i are not very good friends," and dan baxter laughed harshly. "i can't listen to your talk all night," put in one of the men. "march!" the latter word to the prisoners. they had been disarmed, so there was no help for it, and they walked through the ranch to where there was a big trap-door in the floor. this was raised up, disclosing a flight of wooden steps. "down you go!" was the next order. they went down, side by side, to find themselves in a narrow cellar. at a distance, they made out a light, coming from the crack of a door. a lantern was lit, and they were ordered to a passageway at the end of the cellar. beyond was something of a cell, built of stone and heavy timbers, with a thick door that was bolted and locked. "in you go," said one of the men, shoving dick forward. "is this where you intend to keep us?" "yes." "for how long?" "that is for the boss to decide." "it's a wretched place," said sam, looking around. "it isn't fit for a dog to stay in." "that's not my fault. you brought this on yourself," said the man. "when a kid takes it on himself to play the spy, he must take what comes," said the other man as he shoved sam in behind his brother. the cell was foul-smelling and damp, and both of the boys shivered as they looked around them. "will you leave us a light?" asked the youngest rover. "we'll leave you nothing," said one of the men as he bolted and locked the heavy door. "come on, now," he added to his companion. "the boss will be wondering what is keeping us so long." a moment later the two men walked off, leaving poor sam and dick prisoners in the dark, underground cell. chapter xix peter poll, the dolt after sam and dick had departed, the camp in the woods seemed unusually lonesome to those left behind. "i wish i had gone along," said tom, not once, but several times. "of da only come pack in safdy," was hans' comment. to pass the time, songbird tried to make up some poetry, but nobody cared to listen to him, and he soon subsided. the death-like quiet felt to them as if it was the hour before the storm. "are you fellows going to sleep?" asked fred as it began to grow late. "you can go, fred," said tom. "i'm going to stay awake until sam and dick get back." "then i'll stay awake, too." to tell the truth, nobody felt like sleeping, and all huddled together in a hollow, close to where the horses had been tethered. wags came and rested his head in tom's hand. "old boy, you know we are worried, don't you?" said tom, and the dog looked up as if he understood. it was a long time before their watches pointed to midnight. then songbird stretched himself. "i am so sleepy i can scarcely keep my eyes open," he said with a yawn. "then go to sleep," said tom. "i take a leetle nap, too," said hans, and soon both were slumbering, leaving tom and fred on guard. they wished they had a fire--it would make things more cheerful--but they did not dare to indulge themselves, for fear their enemies might see the light. by the time it was three in the morning, even fred could hold out no longer. he dropped off, leaving tom to keep the vigil by himself. but soon songbird started up. "have they come back, tom?" he asked. "not yet." "they must be making some wonderful discoveries. hullo! so the others went to sleep, too? don't you want a nap?" "well, i'll take forty winks, if you'll promise to keep a good lookout." "i'll do that. i'm as fresh as a daisy now." tom leaned back against a tree, and in a minute more was in slumber-land. when the others awoke, they did not disturb him, consequently it was some time after sunrise when he opened his eyes. "i declare! i've had a regular sleep!" he cried. "why didn't you wake me up?" "we didn't think it necessary," said fred. "have they got back?" "no." at this, tom's face grew serious. "that's strange, and i must say i don't like it." "oh, i guess they'll show up before a great while," answered fred. "they couldn't travel very well in the dark. if they tried it, they'd be sure to get lost." once more, they unpacked the provisions they had brought along and made a leisurely break-fast. then they packed their things again and waited. "i am going up to the top of a tree and take another look around," announced tom about ten o'clock. he could scarcely stand the suspense. "i'll do the same," said songbird, and soon they were in the top of a tall tree and gazing axiously in the direction of red rock ranch. the place looked to be deserted. "not a sign of dick and sam anywhere," said the fun-loving rover. for reply, songbird hummed softly to himself: "the woods and plains are everywhere, but for those things we do not care. in every nook and every place we look for a familiar face. what has become of those we cherish? are they alive, or did they perish?" "don't go on that way, songbird, you give a fellow the blues," cried tom. "if i thought dick and sam had perished--" "merely a figure of speech, tom. i had to find a word to rhyme with cherish, that's all." "and such a word is rarish, i suppose," murmured tom. "honest, this is no joking matter," he continued soberly. "i know it, and i wish sam and dick were back." they continued to watch the ranch and presently saw a boy come out with a bundle under his arm and a fishing pole over his shoulder. "there's a boy, and he is coming this way!" cried the poetic youth. they watched the boy as long as they could and saw him turn to the northward and take to a trail running close to a fair-sized stream. "i think he is going fishing," said tom. "i'd like to run across him and question him." they watched the boy as long as they could, and then climbed down the tree and told the others of what they had seen. "i am going after him," said tom. "you stay here until i get back." "i am going along," said songbird, and so it was arranged. a few minutes of walking brought them to the stream of water, and they walked along the bank of this a distance of quarter of a mile, when tom called a halt. "there is the boy now--sitting on a rock, fishing," he whispered. "don't scare him off." they crept into the shelter of the trees and came out again directly behind the boy, who had just landed a good-sized fish and was baiting up again. he was a small boy, with an old-looking face covered with a fuzz of reddish hair. he had yellowish eyes that had a vacant stare in them. "hullo!" cried tom. the boy jumped as if a bomb had gone off close to his ear. his fishing pole dropped into the stream and floated off. "out for a day's sport?" asked tom pleasantly. the boy stared at him and muttered something neither tom nor songbird could understand. "what did you say?" asked the fun-loving rover. "poor fishing pole!" murmured the boy. "now peter can't fish any more!" "is that your name--peter?" asked tom. he saw that the boy was not just right in his mind. "yes." "peter what?" "no, no! peter poll--pretty peter poll, who will be rich some day--if he does not tell all he knows," said the boy, repeating the words in parrot-like fashion. "do you live at red rock ranch?" asked songbird. the boy bobbed his head up and down vigorously. "with mr. sack todd?" again the boy nodded. "what do you do there?" "wash dishes and cook. but peter will be rich some day--if he doesn't tell all he knows," went on the boy. then, of a sudden, he flapped his two arms and crowed like a rooster. "he is a dolt!" whispered songbird to tom, and the latter nodded. "the poor fishing pole--it will be drowned," went on the dolt. "never mind, i'll pay you for it, peter," said tom, and drew a silver coin from his pocket. "so you live with mr. todd. how do you like it?" "peter must not tell all he knows." "does he treat you kindly?" "peter gets sugar sometimes--and he is to have a pipe and tobacco soon." "did you see anything of two strangers last night?" continued tom in a sterner tone. "two boys about my own age?" "peter must not tell--" "you answer me, or it will be the worse for you!" and now tom caught the simple-minded youth by the collar. he did not intend to harm the lad, but he wanted to make him speak. "oh, oh! let me go!" screamed the dolt. "let me go for a hundred-dollar bill! a brand new one!" "a what?" asked songbird curiously. "peter must not tell all--" "you answer my question," broke in tom, facing the boy and searching his eyes. "did you see those two boys last night or not?" "peter must not--" "answer!" and now tom had the lad by the ear. "yes--yes--i saw them." "did anybody else see them?" "peter must not--" "peter, do you want to be drowned in the river?" "no, no!" "then tell me all you know about the boys." "sack todd will kill me! peter must not tell--" "did sack todd see the boys?" "yes; he caught them--he and andy jimson--at the window! peter must not tell--" "caught!" gasped tom. "were they made prisoners?" the boy nodded, and then crowed like a rooster once more. "where were the prisoners put?" "down, down, down--in the deep hole where the water flows--down where they want to put peter if he tells all he knows. but i shan't tell anything--not a thing!" and his eyes blazed fiercely. "not a thing!" "poor dick and sam have been captured and are prisoners in some vile place," groaned tom. "what will become of them?" chapter xx an offer from the enemy "this is a cheerful outlook, i must say. i wonder how long it is going to last?" the question came from sam, after an hour had been spent in the damp and lonely cell under red rock ranch. "that is a riddle to me, sam," answered dick. "i don't think they will let us go in a hurry. we have learned too much." "do you imagine they will find tom and the others?" "i hope not. if they do, we'll be in a pickle, for i guess it will be tom and the others who will have to get us out of this hole." "i wish we had a light." "i am afraid it would do us small good. this seems to have been built for a regular prison, and i suppose the only way out is through the door, and that is securely fastened." the two rovers were in no cheerful frame of mind. they realized that sack todd was much exercised over the fact that they had discovered the secret of the ranch, and what he would do to them in consequence there was no telling. "perhaps we'll never get away from here alive!" cried sam after another talk. "oh, i don't think he'll dare to go as far as that, sam. he knows we have friends and that they will do all in their power to rescue us or find out what has become of us." another hour went by, so slowly that it seemed three. then, of a sudden, dick uttered an exclamation. "i've struck a prize, sam!" "what is it?" "a bit of candle." "humph! what good will that do, if you haven't any match?" "but i have several matches," answered the eldest rover, and a second later came a faint scratch, and then the bit of candle, dirty and mouse-gnawed, was lit. it was not much of a light, but it was far better than nothing, and both boys felt light-hearted when they could see each other once more. "let us make another examination of the hole," suggested dick. "something may have slipped us before." they went over each part of the walls with great care. on one side, a portion of the stones was set in squarely. "this looks as if they had at one time closed some sort of a passageway here," remarked dick. "i should like to know what is beyond." "can't we pick out one or two stones?" "we can try." the candle was set down on the stone flooring, close to the wall, and the two lads started to work without delay. in a corner of his jacket, dick found an old jack-knife that had not been taken away from him, and this he used on the mortar. sam had nothing but a long, rusty iron nail, so their progress was necessarily slow. "don't seem to be making much headway," observed sam, after pegging away for a while. "wish we had a hammer and a cold chisel." "if we used a hammer they could hear us, sam." at last they had one stone loose and pulled it out of the wall. holding up the light, they saw that there was a wall of plain dirt behind it. "beaten!" muttered the youngest rover, and a disappointed look came over his face. "dick, we have had our labor for our pains." "i am not so sure of that, sam." "why not, i'd like to know? that doesn't look much like a passageway." "that is true, but we may be able to dig through the dirt without great trouble, and if this spot is close to the outer wall of the building--" "oh, i see," and sam's face took on a more hopeful look. "but it might take a long time, anyway," and his face fell once more. they had just started to loosen a second stone, when the candle began to splutter. they saved it as much as they could, but in five minutes it flickered for the last time and went out, leaving them in a darkness that seemed more intense than ever. "we might as well continue to work," said dick as bravely as he could. "there is nothing else to do." but, at the end of an hour, they had to give up the task. all of the stones around the hole they had made refused to budge, and, as the opening was not over eight inches in diameter, it availed them nothing. "it is no use, sam," said dick finally. "we are simply wearing ourselves out for nothing. give it up." both boys were exhausted, but were too much disturbed to take a good sleep. yet, as they sat on a bench, the eyes of each closed, and he took a series of naps, arousing at every unusual sound that penetrated to the underground cell. overhead, everything had become unusually quiet, but toward morning came heavy footsteps, and they heard the opening and closing of an outer door. "somebody has come in," said sam. "i wonder if it is the party that went to look for tom and the others?" "more than likely. i wish i knew if they discovered anything, or if tom managed to keep out of sight." again there was silence, and once more the boys dozed off, not to rouse up until there came the unlocking of the cell door. sack todd stood there, lantern in hand, and beside him andy jimson. "hope you had a good night's sleep," said the owner of red rock ranch. "fine," answered dick sarcastically. "your feather beds can't be beat." "and the quilts were extra warm," put in sam, catching his cue from his brother. "humph! your night here doesn't seem to have tamed you down much," growled sack todd. "i said they were gamy youngsters," came from the long-nosed man. "they showed that when they were on the houseboat." "i want to question you," said sack todd, setting down his lantern. "how many were there in your party?" "how many did you catch?" questioned dick, at the same time pinching his brother's arm to make sam keep quiet. "you answer my question, boy!" growled the owner of the ranch. "why don't you answer mine?" "i am not here to answer questions." "who said i was, then?" "you are a prisoner." "you had better answer up, if you know what's good fern you," broke in andy jimson. "sack doesn't stand for any nonsense." "tell me, how many were in your party?" repeated the owner of the ranch. "something less than half a hundred." "what!" the owner of red rock ranch leaped to his feet, and then sat down again on a bench opposite the two rovers. "you are fooling." "all right; then don't question me." "they must have organized a regular searching party," burst out the long-nosed man. "if they did, sack, we are in for it." "it's all talk, andy. they couldn't get up such a party around here. folks know better than to bother me. besides, they know i am a good spender, and they like to help, not hinder, me," and the ranch owner winked. "are you boys going to tell me the plain truth, or not?" demanded sack todd after a pause. "what i want to know is: what do you intend to do with us?" returned dick. "that will depend on yourselves, young man." "will you explain?" asked sam. "you came here entirely uninvited--you have got to take the consequences." "that doesn't explain anything," put in dick. "you have learned a very important secret. if that secret was given to the world at large, it would spell ruin for me and all of my associates," went on sack todd. "that is your fault, not ours." "bah! don't talk like a child, rover. do you think i'll allow a couple of boys to ruin me? not much!" "well, what do you intend to do keep us prisoners?" "i must see about the others first. after that, i'll make you an offer." "what sort of an offer?" broke in sam. "you'll either have to join us, or take the consequences." "join you!" gasped sam and dick in a breath. "that is what i said." "i'll never do it!" came quickly from dick. "it's foolish to think of it," added sam. "we are not criminals." "you had better give the matter careful consideration. if you won't join us--" the ranch owner paused. "what?" asked both boys. "i shouldn't like to say. one thing is certain, though: you shall never leave red rock ranch to expose us." "that's the talk!" put in andy jimson. "you had better make up your mind to join us, just as that other young fellow did." "you mean dan baxter?" "yes." "has he really joined?" questioned dick with interest. "to be sure he has, and he'll make a good thing out of it, too." "in what way?" "in what way? can't he have all the spending money he wants? what more does a fellow need?" "counterfeit money, you mean?" "what's the difference, so long as it passes?" "maybe you'll get caught passing it some day," said sam. "it is not likely. we are careful, and the money made here is very close to the real thing." "don't tell the kids everything," broke in sack todd. at that moment there came a shrill whistle from the top of the stairs leading to the cell. "hullo! i'm wanted!" cried the owner of red rock ranch. "come on, andy, we'll finish this talk some other time." and he stepped to the doorway. both were soon outside, the door was fastened as before, and off the men hurried, leaving sam and dick in anything but a comfortable frame of mind. chapter xxi through the forest the knowledge that sam and dick had been made prisoners by those at red rock ranch was most discouraging to tom and songbird. "they are in a hole in the ground," said the fun-loving rover. "that must mean that they are in some sort of dungeon." "more than likely they have a place for prisoners at the ranch," returned songbird. "the question is, now that we have learned so much: what's to do about it?" "we must rescue sam and dick." "that may be easier said than done, tom. my idea is, the fellows at the ranch are desperate characters--horse thieves, or worse." "no horse thieves there!" burst out peter poll, who had listened to the talk in wonder. "sack todd is rich--piles of money, piles. but peter must not tell all he knows!" he added with a whine. "so sack todd is rich?" questioned tom. "piles of money--fine bank bills, i can tell you! some day peter will be a millionaire! but peter must not tell--" "say, perhaps this dolt isn't telling the truth," cried songbird. "he seems to be more than a button short." "button, button, who's got the button!" sang out the foolish boy. "played that once--lots of fun. let us play now." and he started to pull a button from his jacket. "come with us, peter," said tom. "come, we won't hurt you." "where do you want peter to go?" "not very far away. come, we will give you something nice to eat." now, as it happened, eating was one of the dolt's weak points, and he readily consented to accompany them. without loss of time, they made their way back to where fred and hans had been left. "hullo! who vos dot?" ejaculated the german youth as they hove in sight. "this is a boy we picked up along the stream," answered tom, and then drew the others aside and told his story. "what are you going to do next?" questioned fred seriously. "it is certainly too bad sam and dick are prisoners. we must take care that we are not captured." "the mystery of the ranch grows deeper," said songbird. "i rather wish we had some officers of the law to consult. we could then ride right up to the ranch and make our demands." "it may come to that before we get through," answered tom. "that dolt may not be telling the truth, tom." "well, he has told some truth anyway, for if sam and dick are free, why don't they show up here?" they did their best to make peter poll tell them more concerning himself and those at the ranch. but the foolish boy was growing more and more suspicious, and would scarcely answer a question. "peter wants the fine eating you promised him," said he, but when they spread before him the best the camp afforded, he broke into a wild laugh of derision. "call that good!" he shrieked. "that is nothing! you ought to see one of the spreads at the ranch--especially when the men from washing-ton and chicago come down. everything of the best to eat and to drink! this is plain cowboy food. peter wants something better--roast lamb, peas and pie!" "this is the best we have, peter," said tom. "i am sorry you do not care for it. so they have feasts at the ranch, eh?" "peter must not tell all he knows." the foolish boy started up. "peter is going." "don't go yet!" cried tom. "peter must go to the other ranch--boss told him so--after he got through fishing. going now." and, with a sudden jerk, he tore himself loose and was off like the wind among the trees. "hi!" cried songbird. "hadn't we better stop him?" tom was already after the dolt. but the foolish boy seemed to have legs like those of a deer for swiftness, and before they realized it he was out of sight. he knew how to run with but little noise, so it became almost impossible to follow him. "will he go back to the ranch, do you think?" asked fred after the momentary excitement was over. "he said something about going to the other ranch," returned tom. "what he meant by it, i don't know." "well, he is gone, so we shall have to make the best of it," went on fred. "i trust, though, that he doesn't get us into trouble." the boys sat down in the temporary camp, and there tom and songbird gave all the details of how they had fallen in with peter poll. "i suppose those rough characters make him do all sorts of dirty work," said fred. "the boy isn't really responsible." after a long consultation, it was decided to leave the neighborhood and move to the other side of red rock ranch. this would tend to throw the enemy off the trail, if the dolt should go back and relate what had occurred. "dis vos gitting so interesting like a story book," was hans' comment. "i only vish i could see der last page alretty!" "we all wish that," laughed tom. "then we'd know if the villain dies and the girl marries the millionaire," and this sally brought forth a short laugh. the things were packed rapidly, and soon they were on horseback and leading the steeds sam and dick had ridden. they had to ford the stream where the dolt had been captured, and here the horses obtained a refreshing drink. "some day i suppose this whole forest will fall before the woodman's ax," remarked songbird. "too bad!" and then he murmured to himself: "the sturdy woodman with his ax will strike full many a blow, and as the chips go flying fast he'll lay these giants low, until the ground is bare and void of all this grateful shade--" "and then the planter beans can plant with plow, and hoe, and spade," finished tom. "beans would pay better than trees any day." "beans!" snorted songbird in disgust. "what have beans to do with poetry?" and he walked ahead so that he might make up his verses without further interruption. they soon found the ground getting very rough, and the tangle through which sam and dick had passed made them do not a little complaining. "mine cracious! how long vos dis to last, hey?" cried poor hans as he found himself in a tangle from which he could not escape. "hellup, somepody, oder i ton't vos git out of dis annyhow!" "hans is stuck on this brushwood," sang out fred. "he loves it so he can't bear to leave it." "this way, hansy, my boy," came from tom. "now then, a long pull, a strong pull and a pull altogether!" with might and main he hauled on the german boy's arm, and with a tearing sound hans came loose and almost pitched forward on his face. "hi! hi! let go alretty kvick!" he bawled. "mine clothes vos most tore off of me." he felt of his trousers and the back of his jacket. "too pad! da vos full of vinders now!" "never mind, hansy, you need the openings for ventilation," returned tom smoothly. "vendilations, hey? vot you know about him, hey? i vos look like a ragpickers alretty!" and he surveyed the damaged suit dubiously. "now is the time to have your picture taken," suggested fred. "you can send it to your best girl, hans." "i ton't vos got no girls." "then send it to your grandma," suggested tom blandly. "maybe she'll take pity on you and send you a new suit. that would suit, wouldn't it?" "i ton't vos do noddings, but ven ve go to camp again, i make you all sit town und blay tailors," answered the german boy; and then the whole crowd pushed forward as before. they had to cross a tiny brook, and then began to scramble over some rather rough rocks. this was hard work for the horses, and a consultation was held regarding the advisability of leaving them behind. "i would do it in a minute," said tom. "but it may not suit us to come back this way." "yes, and we may need the horses to ride away on," put in fred. "supposing those men on the ranch come after us? we can't get away very well on foot, and, if we could, we wouldn't want to leave the horses behind." and so it was decided to go slowly and take the steeds along. it was growing dark, and they were afraid they were in for another storm. so far, there had been no breeze, but now the wind began to rush through the trees with a mournful sound. "if it does come, it will surely be a soaker," announced tom when he got to an opening where he could survey the sky. "perhaps it will pay us to stay in the shelter of the forest." "yes, and have the lightning bring a tree down on us," added fred. "none of that for me." they were still among the rocks when it began to rain. at first, the drops did not reach them, but, as the storm increased, the water began to fall in all directions from the branches. "we must find some shelter, unless we want to be soaked," said fred. "hullo, just the thing! couldn't be any better if we had it made to order." he pointed to a spot where the rocks arose to a height of twenty or more feet. low down was an opening leading to a hollow that was very like a cave. "that will do first-rate," returned tom. "it is large enough for the whole crowd." "too bad the horses can't get in, too," said fred. "but maybe a wetting won't hurt them in this warm weather." the steeds were tied close by, and then the boys ran for the shelter under the rocks, followed by wags. they had just reached it when the storm broke in all its violence, and the rain came down in torrents. chapter xxii in a snakes' den "just in time, and no mistake," remarked songbird as he surveyed the scene outside. "no use of talking, when it rains down here, it rains!" "well, a rainstorm isn't a picnic party," returned tom. "i wouldn't care so much if i wasn't so anxious to hear from sam and dick." "dot is vot ve all vonts," broke in hans. they crouched in the back of the shelter, so that the rain might not drive down upon them. it was a steady downpour for half an hour, when it began to slacken up, and the sun looked as if it might break through the clouds once more. "we won't be detained so long, after all!" cried fred. "i am just as well satisfied," began tom, and then gave a jump. "boys, look there! did you ever see anything like it?" they looked in the direction pointed out, and each one sprang up as if he had received an electric shock, while wags began to bark furiously. and small wonder, for directly in front of the shelter was a collection of snakes numbering at least thirty or forty. they were black, brown and green in color and from two to four feet in length. some were lying flat, while others were curled up in various attitudes. "snakes!" faltered fred. "and what a lot of them!" "dere ain't no choke apout dis!" gasped hans, his eyes almost as big as saucers. "vot shall ve do?" "get your pistols, boys!" came from songbird, and he drew his weapon. "don't shoot!" and tom caught the other by the arm. "if you kill one snake, the others will go for us sure. what an awful lot of them! this locality must be a regular snakes' den." "if they come in here, we'll all be bitten, and if they are poisonous--" fred tried to go on, but could not. "there is no telling if they are poisonous or not," returned tom. "one thing is sure, i don't want them to sample me," and the others said about the same. what to do was at first a question. the snakes lay about ten feet from the front of the shelter and in a semicircle, so that the boys could not get out, excepting by stepping on the reptiles or leaping over them. "they are coming closer!" exclaimed fred a moment later. "it looks as if they were going to tackle us, sure!" "i have a plan," cried tom. "come here, hans, and let me boost you up." the others understood, and while the fun-loving rover gave the german boy a boost, songbird did the same for fred. the edge of the cliff of rocks was rough, and, when hoisted up, hans and fred were enabled to grasp at several cracks and projections. they laid hold vigorously and soon pulled themselves out of harm's way. by this time, the snakes had wiggled several feet closer to the shelter. evidently, it was their den and, while they wished to get in, they did not know exactly what to do about the intruders. "can you get a hold?" questioned songbird as he stood on a flat rock and raised himself into the air a distance of two feet. tom was already trying to do so, and soon he was crawling up the edge of the cliff. as the rocks were slippery from the rain, it was by no means an easy or sure task. but he advanced with care, and soon joined fred and hans at the top. "i am glad we are out of that!" exclaimed fred. "ugh! how i do hate snakes!" "i think everybody does," returned tom. "hi, songbird!" he called out. "coming?" "i--i guess i am stuck!" was the gasped-out answer. "the rocks are too slippery for me." "we'll give you a hand up," sang out the fun-loving rover, and got down at the edge of the rocks. "look out that you don't slip over," came in a warning from fred. "of you go ofer, you land dem snakes your head on," put in hans. the words had scarcely been uttered, when there came a wild shriek from songbird. the poetic youth had lost his hold and slipped to the ground below. he came down directly on top of three of the snakes, and with an angry hissing they whipped around him. "songbird has fallen on the snakes!" "run for your life!" sang out tom. "there goes wags!" and songbird did run the moment he could regain his feet. one snake got tangled up in the boy's legs and was carried along, whipping one way and another. but it soon lost its hold and then wiggled through the grass to rejoin its fellows. in the meantime, the dog had disappeared. "are you safe?" called out those at the top of the cliff. "i--i--guess so," came in a panting answer. "but two of them did--did their be-best to bite me!" "bring the horses around while you are about it," said tom, and then the three on the cliff walked around to rejoin songbird. when they reached him, they found the poetic youth trembling from head to foot. "never had such an experience in all my life," said he. "why, i came down almost headfirst on those snakes! i never want such a thing to, happen again." "i've got no use for snakes," said tom. "i don't know what they are good for, excepting to scare folks." "i believe they rid the land of many insects." "say, songbird, i tole you vot," put in hans, with a twinkle in his eye now that the danger was past. "you vos make a nice poem up apout dem snakes, hey?" "a poem on snakes?" shivered songbird. "ugh! the idea is enough to give one the creeps!" the rain had now ceased completely, and soon they were leading their horses forward as before. it was very wet in the brushwood and, as far as possible, they kept to the open spaces. the outlook was certainly a dismal one, and the boys felt in anything but a good humor. "our little trip to mr. denton's ranch isn't panning out so beautifully, after all," remarked fred. "i thought we were going to have the nicest kind of an outing. all told, i rather think i would prefer to be back on the houseboat." presently they came' out on a road in the rear of red rock ranch. there was a ditch to cross, and then a line of thorns, which gave all more than one scratch. suddenly they were startled by a shot, fired at a distance. another shot soon followed. "what does that mean?" cried fred. "where's the dog?" "perhaps sam and dick are trying to escape," returned songbird. "i hope nobody is shooting them," put in tom. "i must say," he added, "i don't like this at all. the dog is gone." "hadn't we better place the horses in the woods and investigate?" "no, we'll take the horses along, and if there is trouble, we'll use our pistols," answered tom firmly. they advanced with caution, and soon came to where the road made a turn westward. tom uttered an exclamation of surprise, and not without good reason. "man--on the road--flat on his face!" "is he a spy?" "is he dead?" "i don't know," answered tom. "go slow--we may be running into a trap." they advanced with caution. not another soul seemed to be in sight, and presently they stood over the man. he was breathing heavily. "looks like a planter," observed fred, noticing the apparel the stranger wore. "what's the matter with him?" "perhaps he was shot. let us turn him over." this they proceeded to do, and then, without warning, the man sat up and rubbed his eyes. his wig and beard fell off, and to tom's astonishment there was revealed james monday, the government detective. "mr. monday!" cried the boy. "how in the world did you get here?" "wha--who are you?" stammered the man. "wha--what hit me?" "i don't know what hit you. i am tom rover. don't you remember me?" the government official looked perplexed for a moment, and then his face brightened. "to be sure i remember you, rover," he stammered. "but i am all in a twist." he brushed his hand over his face. "i thought i was down and out, as the saying goes." "did you fire those shots?" "i fired one shot. the other was fired by a man who ran away. i believe the villain wanted to take my life. the bullet struck a rock and then struck and stunned me, and i keeled over." "and the man ran away?" "i suppose so. you didn't see him, did you?" "no." "where are you bound?" went on the government official curiously. "we are looking for my two brothers, sam and dick. they went over to the ranch yonder, and we have heard that they are being held prisoners." chapter xxiii james monday takes a hand after that, there was nothing to do but to tell their story in detail, to which the government official listened with close attention. then he asked them many questions. "you are certainly in hard luck," said he when they had finished. "beyond the slightest doubt, those men at the ranch are desperate characters, and i don't know but what i ought to summon help and arrest them on the spot." "den vy not do dot?" asked hans. "ve vill hellup, too." "if those men are what i take them to be, i want to catch them red-handed,'' responded james monday. "what do you take them to be?" asked tom. "can i trust you boys to keep a secret?" "yes," came from each of the crowd. "then i'll tell you. unless i am very much mistaken, the men at red rock ranch are counterfeiters." "counterfeiters!" came in a chorus. "so i believe. i may be mistaken, but all the evidence i have points in that direction. i have been following this trail from philadelphia, where i caught a fellow passing bad twenty-dollar bills. he confessed that he got the bills from a fellow in washington who claimed to be printing them from some old government plates. that story was, of course, nonsense, since no government plates of such a bill are missing. i followed the trail to washington, and there met a crook named sacord. he, so i discovered, got his money from two men, one the owner of this ranch. where the bad bills were manufactured was a mystery, but, by nosing around, i soon learned that the owner of the ranch never allowed strangers near his place, and that he sometimes had strange pieces of machinery shipped there. then i put two and two together and came to the conclusion that the bad bills were printed here. now, i want to prove it, and not only round up the gang, but also get possession of the bogus printing plates. if the government don't get the plates, somebody may keep on manufacturing the bad bills." "in that case, it is just as important to get the plates as the criminals," put in songbird. "well, this stumps me," declared tom. "no wonder they kept chasing us off." "and no wonder sam and dick were made prisoners," added fred. "i hope the rascals don't do them harm," said tom. "if i thought that, i'd be for moving on the ranch without delay." "i think your brothers will be safe enough for the time being," came from james monday. "i am sorry that you let that dolt get away from you." "if we had thought it of such importance, we should certainly have kept him a prisoner," replied songbird. "i was watching my chance to get into the ranch house unobserved," continued the government official. "that shot rather floored me. but i am going to get in, some way," he added with determination. "listen, i think i hear somebody coming!" cried songbird. "let us get to the side of the road," said james monday. they did as advised, the boys mounting their horses and the government official donning his wig and false beard and taking sam's steed. soon they were stationed behind a pile of rocks. "it's a wagon that is coming!" said tom a minute later. "i can hear the wheels scraping on the rocks." "i think i'll investigate on foot," said james monday, and slipped to the ground once more. soon the wagon came in sight. it was pulled by a team of strong looking horses and was piled high with boxes. on the seat sat an old man. "hullo, there!" called out the government official, stepping along the trail in the direction of the turnout. the old man was evidently startled, and he pulled up with a jerk. as he did so, the boys rode a little closer. "hullo, stranger! what do you want?" "i want to talk to you," responded james monday. "what about?" and the old man began to grow uncomfortable. "where are you bound?" "what do ye want to know fer?" "i am curious, that's all, friend. are you afraid to answer me?" "no, i ain't. i'm bound fer red rock ranch." "what have you on the wagon?" "all sorts o' supplies that came in on the railroad." "what's your name?" "bill cashaw. it seems to me you're a curious one, you are." "do you belong in town, or out here?" "in town, o'course. hain't i lived there nigh sixty-four years?" "do you work steadily for sack todd?" "no. i do a leetle drivin' now an' then, that's all. but, see here--" "do you know all the others at the ranch?" "most on 'em. i don't know the new fellers much." "did you intend to stay at the ranch?" "you mean to-night?" "yes." "not unless sack asked me to stay. he's queer about that, you know." the old man glanced at the boys. "quite a party o' ye, hain't there?" "you state positively that you do not belong to the crowd at the ranch?" resumed the government official. "i said so. but, see here, stranger--" "please get down off that wagon," went on james monday quietly. "eh?" "i said get down off that wagon." "what fer?" "because i want you to." "say, are this a hold-up?" cried the old man in renewed alarm. "if it are, i hain't a-goin' to stand fer it, an' let me say that sack todd will be after you-uns bald-headed fer it!" "this is not exactly a hold-up," said the detective with a faint smile. "get down and i will explain. if you try to resist, you'll only get into trouble." "suppose i'll have to obey," groaned the old man as he climbed down from the seat. "you-uns are five to one on this. i'm like the coon an' davy crockett--i know when ter come down out o' the tree. but i don't understand your game, stranger." "as i said before, i don't intend to hurt you, mr. cashaw. but i am after certain information, and i rather think you can aid me in getting it." "what you want to know?" "in the first place, i want you to tell me all you know about sack todd. what does he do at his ranch?" "humph! don't ask me, fer i don't know. an' if i did--" "and if you did--" "sack's been a putty good friend ter me, stranger. lent me a hundred dollars onct, when a fire had cleaned me out. a feller don't feel much about hurtin' his friend." "that is so, too. then you really don't know what is going on at the ranch? come now, speak the truth," and james monday's voice grew stern. "well, it's some sort o' patent, i guess. sack don't want folks to git onto it. reckon it's a new-fangled printing press--one to run by electristity--or sumthin' like that." "he told you that, did he?" "yes. but i hain't goin' to answer no more questions," went on the old man, and started to mount the wagon seat again. "wait," said james monday. "i am sorry, but you'll have to stay here for the present, mr. cashaw." "you mean you are goin' to make me stay here?" "for a while, yes." "with the wagon?" "no, i'll drive your wagon to the ranch." "i ain't askin' you to do the job." "i'll do it for nothing," answered the government official with a quiet smile. "see here, i don't understand this, at all," cried bill cashaw. "what is yer game, anyhow?" "if you want me to be plain, i'll tell you. i suspect the men at the ranch of a serious crime. for all i know, you are one of the gang and as bad as the rest. if so, you're face to face with a long term in prison." "crime? prison? i ain't done a thing!" "if you are innocent, you have nothing to fear, and you will do what you can to aid me in running down the guilty parties." at this, the face of the old man became a study. he started to talk, stammered and became silent. "tell me!" he burst out suddenly. "are you an officer?" "i am--working under the united states government." "oh!" the old man turned pale. "then let me say, as i said afore, i ain't done nuthin' wrong, an' i don't want to go to prison. if them fellers at the ranch are criminals, i don't want ter work fer 'em no more, an' i'll help you to bring 'em to justice." chapter xxiv tom carries a letter after that it was a comparatively easy matter to get the old man to talk, and he told james monday and the boys practically all he knew about sack todd and his followers. he said it was commonly supposed that sack todd had some invention that he was jealously guarding. some folks thought the man was a bit crazy on the subject of his discoveries, and so did not question him much concerning them. the machinery and other material which arrived from time to time were all supposed to be parts of the wonderful machine sack todd was having made at various places. while he was talking, the old man looked at tom many times in curiosity. "might i ask your name?" he said at length. "what do you want 'to know that for?" returned tom. "because you look so wonderfully like my son bud--an' you talk like him, too. but bud's skin is a bit darker nor yours." "my name is tom rover." "talking about looking alike," broke in fred. "there's a strong resemblance," and he pointed to the detective and the old man. "of course, you don't look quite so old," he added to james monday. "i am glad that you think we look alike," smiled back the government official. "i was banking on that." "what do you mean?" came from songbird. "i will show you in a minute. mr. cashaw, i'll trouble you to exchange hats, coats and collars with me," the detective continued, turning to the old man. the latter did not understand, but gave up his wearing apparel a moment later, and soon james monday was wearing them. then the detective rubbed a little dirt on his hands and face and, with a black pencil he carried, gave himself a few marks around the mouth and eyes. "how do you do, boys?" he called out, in exact imitation of bill cashaw. "wonderful!" ejaculated tom. "that will do splendidly. "mine cracious! i ton't vos know vich been you an' vich been der old man!" burst out hans. "you vos like two pretzels alretty!" "that's a fine comparison," laughed fred, and all had to smile over the german youth's words. "i reckon i know what you intend to do," said tom to the government official. "you want to take the old man's job away from him." "yes--for the time being. but i don't expect to get paid for it." james monday turned to cashaw. "will you stay with the boys until i return?" "well, now--" "i want you to stay." "that means as how i'm to stay whether i want to or not, eh?" "you can put it that way if you wish. i want to make no trouble for you." "sack todd will make trouble if he hears of this," returned the old man dubiously. "then you had better keep out of sight." "will you return my horses and wagon?" "either that, or pay for the turnout." "then maybe i'd better go to town. i can say i stopped off at a tavern an' sumbuddy drove off with my rig." "very well," returned the detective. "but, mind you, if you dare to play me foul--" "i won't! i won't!" "then you can go. but wait. boys, let him stay here an hour. then he can go." so it was arranged, and a few minutes later james monday was on the seat of the wagon and driving off in the style of the old man. "he is certainly a good actor," murmured tom, gazing after the government official. "i declare, the two look like two peas!" "that's a mighty risky thing to do," observed songbird. "if sack todd and his cronies discover the trick they'll stop at nothing to get square." "trust mr. monday to take care of himself," responded tom. "i am only hoping he will be able to aid sam and dick." "oh, we all hope that, tom." the boys sat down on some partly dried rocks and began to ask the old man about himself. but bill cashaw was too much disturbed mentally to give them much satisfaction. "well, by hemlock!" he burst out presently. "what's up now?" queried tom, and all of the others looked equally interested. "if i didn't go an' forgit all about it." "forget what?" "this letter i had fer sack. an' that was o' prime importance, too, so the trainman said." as the old man spoke, he brought forth a letter which he had had stowed away in a pocket of his shirt. "what's in the letter?" asked fred. "i don't know. it's sealed up." "i think we'd be justified in breaking it open," put in songbird. "those rascals are outlaws!" "no! no! don't break it open!" burst out tom, and snatched the communication from the old man's hand. "i've got a better plan." "what plan?" came from his friends. "didn't you say that i looked like your son bud?" asked tom of bill cashaw. "i did." "has bud ever been to red rock ranch?" "three or four times, but not lately." "does sack todd know him?" "yes, but not very well." "then that settles it," announced the fun-loving rover. "i, as bud cashaw, am going to deliver the letter at the ranch." "tom, that's too risky!" cried fred. "i don't think so. i can tell them that the letter was left for father"--pointing to bill cashaw--"after he started for the ranch. i don't see how they can help but swallow the story." "yes, but see here--" interrupted the old man. "this ain't fair. i want you to understand--" "i know what i am doing, mr. cashaw, and you had better keep quiet. watch him, fellows." without loss of time, tom made his preparations for visiting the mysterious ranch. he rubbed some dirt on his face and hands, disheveled his hair and turned up one leg of his trousers. then he borrowed the rather large headgear that hans wore and pulled it far down over his head. "how will that do?" he drawled. "say, is my pap anywhere around this yere ranch?" "mine cracious! of dot ton't beat der irish!" gasped hans. "tom, you vos make a first-class detector alretty!" "he certainly looks like an alabama country boy," was fred's comment. a few touches more to his disguise and tom was ready to depart for the ranch. he called songbird aside. "watch that old man," he whispered. "he may not be as innocent as he looks. don't let him get to the ranch. if he does, our cake will be dough." "of course you don't expect to catch up to the wagon," said songbird. "no, but if i do, i'll go ahead anyway--if mr. monday will let me." it was not long after this that tom left the others. he struck out boldly along the poorly defined wagon trail, which led over some rough rocks and down into hollows now filled with water. the marks of the wagon ahead were plainly to be seen, but, though the youth walked fast, he did not catch sight of the turnout. it was dark by the time he came to the fence that surrounded the ranch buildings. he saw bill cashaw's wagon standing under a shed. two men were unloading the contents. they were both strangers to tom. it must be admitted that tom's heart beat rapidly as he stepped into view and slouched toward the wagon shed. the men started in surprise when they beheld him. "say, whar's my pap?" he called out. "didn't he come in on the wagon?" "it's bud cashaw," murmured one of the men. he raised his voice. "your old man is in the house with sack todd." tom turned toward the ranch proper and was close to a door when it opened and sack todd came out and faced him. at a distance behind the man was james monday. "hullo, pap!" sang out tom. "you forgot that letter from that train hand--or maybe you didn't see him." the government official stared at tom, wondering who he could be. "what letter?" demanded the ranch owner quickly. "here it is," answered tom, and brought it forth. sack todd ripped it open quickly and scanned its contents. it was short and to the point: "look out for government detectives. they are on your track. one is named james monday. there is also a fellow named rover--beware of him.--number ." utterly unconscious of what he was doing, tom had played directly into the hands of sack todd and his evil associates. chapter xxv in which tom is exposed "boy, who gave you this letter?" demanded the owner of red rock ranch, after he had read the communication through twice. his look was a stern one, and his gaze seemed to bore tom through and through. yet the lad did not flinch. he felt that he must play his part to the end. "feller give it at the house fer pap," he drawled. "pap, he fergot to bring it. so i hustled off to do it." "humph! a nice way to treat a letter of importance," muttered sack todd. he gave tom another close look. "who told you your dad was coming here?" "oh, i guessed that," drawled tom. "come in the house. i must question your father about this." "i didn't mean no harm, mr. todd!" cried the youth in pretended alarm. "ain't it all' right?" "yes. come in." sack todd pushed tom toward the doorway of the ranch, and the youth went inside. he looked around for the government official, but that individual was nowhere to be seen. "where is bill cashaw?" asked the ranch owner of two men who were present. "i don't know--getting something to drink, i reckon," answered one of the men. "he was standing around a minute ago." "sit down here," said sack todd, turning to tom and at the same time motioning to a chair. "i'll be back in a minute." he disappeared through a doorway and the fun-loving rover sat down. he was in no easy frame of mind, for he could plainly see that the letter had disturbed the ranch owner greatly and that the man was suspicious. "i hope i haven't made a mess of it," he reasoned. "i wonder where sam and dick are?" had he had an opportunity, he would have left the room and taken a look around the place, but the strange men were there, and they evidently had their eyes on him. tom had been sitting quietly for five minutes, thinking matters over, when a side door opened and a young man smoking a cigarette came in. on seeing tom, he stared in wonder and allowed his cigarette to drop to the floor. "tom rover! how did you get here?" it was dan baxter, as impudent and hard-faced as ever. he came a step closer and fairly glared at tom. for one brief instant, tom's self-possession deserted him. then he recovered and stared boldly at baxter. "say, what you a-talkin' about?" he drawled. "eh?" "what you a-talkin' about? i don't know you--never see you before." "well, if that ain't the limit!" burst out the bully. "you don't know me!" "an' my name ain't tim drover," went on tom, purposely mispronouncing the name. "go to grass, tom rover! you can't play any game on me. i know you too well, even in that outfit." at that moment sack todd returned. he was surprised to find dan baxter talking to tom. "do you know bud cashaw?" he questioned. "bud cashaw? who is he?" "this is bud." "not much! do you know who this is? tom rover, the brother i was telling you about." "tom rover!" almost shouted the owner of red rock ranch. "are you certain of this?" "yes. didn't i go to school with him? i know him as well as i know my own father." sack todd glared at tom and gave him a close inspection. then he shook the youth fiercely. "so this is your style, eh?" he snarled. "first your brothers come to spy on us, and now you! if i had my way--" he stopped short. "where did you get that letter, answer me!" "wasn't it all right?" drawled tom. he scarcely knew how to act. "answer me, rover. i want no more beating about the bush." "it belongs to bill cashaw. isn't he here?" "ha!" sack todd looked around. "come here," he cried to his men. "watch this boy and don't let him get away under any circumstances. i must find bill cashaw! perhaps it isn't bill, after all!" one of the men came forward and caught hold of tom, while dan baxter also ranged by the prisoner's side. to attempt to break away would have been useless, and tom did not try it. "you'll catch it now," said the bully maliciously. "where are sam and dick?" "that remains for you to find out." "they seem to carry things with a high hand here." "it's sack todd's ranch, and he has a right to do as he pleases. he didn't invite you or the others to come," returned dan baxter with a scowl. in the meantime, the owner of red rock ranch was hurrying around in search of the supposed bill cashaw. he visited the kitchen and the other rooms, and then ran to the barn and other outbuildings. but it was all useless; the driver of the wagon could not be found. "i want all of you to hunt for the wagon driver," stormed the ranch owner. "he must be found!" "what's wrong now?" asked andy jimson. "everything. i've just got a warning. read it." the long-nosed man did so, and drew down the corners of his mouth. "this looks bad," he said. "well, you've got the three rovers right enough. you think--" "that wagon driver may not be bill cashaw at all." "worse and worse, sack. we must find him, by all means." the search was taken up with renewed care, and four men kept at it for over an hour. then the crowd assembled in the main room of the ranch. "he has run away and left the horses and wagon behind," said sack todd. "i thought he acted rather queer," put in one of the men. "i asked him about cal jessup, and he didn't seem to want to answer." "he was a spy--there is not the least doubt of it," came from andy jimson. "more than likely, he was a government detective." while the men were talking the matter over, there was the sound of hoof strokes on the road leading to the ranch door, and a horseman came up, nearly out of breath from hard riding. "what's the news, phil?" shouted sack todd. "nothing wrong, i hope." "snapper has been arrested and a detective is on your trail," shouted back the horseman. "i was afraid i'd be too late. you want to get ready to vamoose." the men of the ranch crowded around the new-comer and plied him with questions. tom tried to catch all that was said, but was unable to do so. "we'll have to make short work of this, i am afraid," he heard sack todd say, a little later. "what about the boy?" questioned the long-nosed man. "he ought to be shot!" was the cold-blooded reply, which made tom shiver. "shall we put him with the rest?" "yes." without ceremony, poor tom was marched away to the trap-door, a man on each side of him. dan baxter came behind. "you don't like it, do you?" sneered the bully. "you'll like it still less when you get below. it's beautifully damp and musty." "you're a cheerful brute, dan," answered tom. "hi! don't you call me a brute!" stormed baxter. "oh, excuse me, i didn't mean to insult the dumb creation," responded tom. "baxter, you are the limit. i suppose you have joined this gang." "what if i have?" "i am sorry for you, that's all." "oh, don't preach!" "i am not going to, for it would be a waste of breath." "you'll sing pretty small by the time we are through with you," growled the bully; and then tom was led below and placed in the cell with the others. chapter xxvi together once more "tom!" "dick and sam!" "how in the world did you get here?" "where are the others?" these and a dozen other questions were asked and answered as the three rover boys shook hands over and over again. even though prisoners, they were delighted to be together once more, and doubly delighted to know that each was well. "oh, these chaps are first-class rascals," said dick after they had settled down a bit. "they have treated us most shamefully. at first, they gave us pretty good eating, but now they are starving us." "starving you?" cried tom. "yes--they want us to tell all we know," put in sam. "they are very suspicious." "didn't you try to get away?" "no use of trying. the walls are too solid and so is the door," said dick. he caught tom by the arm and added in a faint whisper in his brother's ear: "they are listening. we have a hole." "then we'll have to stay here," said tom loudly, catching his cue instantly. "yes, and it's a shame," added sam in an equally loud voice. "i suppose the others have gone on?" "certainly," said tom calmly. "i was a chump to remain behind--only i wanted to find you. i got hold of a letter by accident." a moment later, they heard the guards walk away, and then tom told the truth about the letter, and sam and dick led him to the hole in the wall. "it is not quite big enough to use, yet," whispered the eldest rover. "but we hope to have it big enough by to-morrow. it's slow work, when you have got to be on your guard all the while." "i'd like to know what became of the detective," returned tom. "he must have run away as soon as he saw how affairs were shaping," put in dick. "i hope he rounds up the whole gang." "so do i, and dan baxter with them," answered tom. overhead, they could hear a constant tramping of feet and murmur of voices. they tried to make out what was being said, but could not. left to themselves, the three rovers turned to the opening that had been made in the wall. a match was lit for a moment, so that tom could see just what had been done, and then all three set to work to continue the task. it was certainly hard work, and their progress was exasperatingly slow. "if we only had a pick or a crowbar we could get these stones out in no time," grunted tom, as he pulled away with all his strength. the noise overhead continued, and a little later they heard some men come down in another portion of the cellar. "we must save the plates, at all events," they heard sack todd say. "we can't duplicate them, now old messmer is dead." "yes, save the plates, by all means," put in andy jimson. "do you think the ranch is surrounded?" asked another of the crowd. "it may be." "then the sooner we get out, the better," growled another. the men passed on, so that the rover boys could not hear more of the talk. "i believe they are going to leave the place," whispered sam excitedly. "if they go, what will they do with us?" put in tom. "perhaps they will force us to go with them," answered dick. there was now more bustle and confusion about the ranch, and they heard a wagon drive up to a door, load up and drive away again. then some horses were brought up from the stable. "something is doing, that is certain," murmured dick. he had scarcely spoken when there was a movement at the door of the cell and, by the light of a lantern, the boys found themselves confronted by sack todd, andy jimson and dan baxter. "so you think the youngest is the best to take along," said sack todd to baxter. "yes; the family think more of him than of any one," answered the bully. "all right. sam rover, come out of that!" "what do you want me for?" asked the youngest rover. "i want to talk to you." sam walked from the cell, and the door was at once fastened as before. then sack todd caught the youth by the arm. "now, march upstairs, and be lively about it. we have no time to waste." "but--" "no 'buts' now, rover. we'll talk later on," growled the ranch owner savagely. "just now i've got my mind full of other things." sam was led to the main floor of the ranch, and then without ado his hands were fastened behind him. then he was told to march outside. here two light wagons were in waiting, and he was bundled into one, along with jimson and another man, and dan baxter. the other wagon was loaded with boxes and driven by two men. several horses stood by, saddled for use. "where are we going?" asked the youngest rover. "to the north pole," chuckled dan baxter. "don't you wish you knew!" "are all the men going to leave?" "that's their business, not yours." "you are very kind, baxter. i guess you don't know yourself." "don't i, though? why, i'm right hand-and-hand with this crowd," added the bully boastfully. "maybe you only think you are." "huh! i know what i am doing." "you've said that before--and got tripped up, just the same." "there won't be any trip-up about this." "don't be too sure." "see here," spoke up andy jimson. "when we get on the road, all of you have got to keep quiet." "all right, mum's the world, old man," answered dan baxter cheerfully. "did you hear?" demanded the long-nosed man, looking at sam. "i did." "are you going to mind?" "i am not your slave." "humph! do you know what todd said to me? he said: 'if the kid won't keep quiet when you tell him, shoot him.' how do you like that?" "i don't like it." "i am going to run no chances with you," continued andy jimson. "you have got to keep very quiet. don't you open your mouth once after we get started. i've got a pistol handy, and i know how to use it." in the meantime, several from the ranch were walking around, talking in low, excited tones. then, from a distance, came a shot, followed by two more in rapid succession. "the signal!" cried sack todd. "boys, something is doing now, sure. we must get away, and at once. are you all ready?" there was a chorus of assents. "i think we had better divide. the wagons can go by the honey-tree route, and those on horseback by the swamp road. we can meet at the four rocks tomorrow, if all goes well." so it was agreed, and soon some of the horsemen were off, each carrying a load of some kind. then the wagons began to move, that with the load of boxes going first. the turnouts plunged at once into the woods, where the darkness was intense. they made scarcely any noise, for the wagons were rubber-tired and the horses wore rubber guards on their shoes. it would be hard to analyze sam's feelings as he realized that he was being taken away from the ranch, he knew not to where. to escape in the darkness was out of the question, for the man who sat beside him had his arm linked into his own. more than this, he felt sure that andy jimson would shoot him at the first sign of trouble. the wagon road wound around in the forest, and was in anything but good repair, so that poor sam was jounced about until he felt sore all over. he did not dare to speak, and, truth to tell, he did not know what to say. he realized that if he asked what was to become of his brothers, nobody would tell him. presently the wagon began to climb a slight hill. the horses tugged away manfully, but were exhausted when the top of the rise was gained, and had to rest. "hullo, what's that?" exclaimed dan baxter as he gazed back in the direction of the ranch. "shut up," answered the long-nosed man warningly. sam could not help but look back. the top of the rise was almost bare of trees, so his view was a perfect one. the sight that met his gaze caused his heart to sink with a sickening dread. red rock ranch was in flames! "tom and dick!" he murmured to himself. "if they are still prisoners, what will become of them?" chapter xxvii the burning of the ranch left to themselves, tom and dick scarcely knew what to do for the time being. what was to become of sam they did not know, but they felt that the outlook was darker than ever. "dick, we must get out!" cried tom at length. "i can't stand this sort of thing." "i can't stand it myself. but how are we going to get out? that door is like the wall, for strength." there was more noise overhead, but presently this ceased, and all became as quiet as a tomb. "what do you make of it, now?" came from the fun-loving rover. "i think they have left the ranch, tom." "left--for good?" "perhaps. they know that james monday will make it warm for them. that letter put them on their guard." "what a fool i was to deliver it, dick! i ought to be kicked for doing it. if we had only opened it and read it!" "the others must still be on the watch." "yes, unless they, too, have been captured." the boys returned to the hole in the wall and, to occupy themselves, dug away at it harder than ever. another stone was loosened and pulled into the cell. "we're making a little progress, anyway," sighed tom. "hark! i hear something," said dick a little later. "listen!" they stopped their work and both strained their ears. a curious roaring and crackling came from overhead. "that's odd," mused tom. "what do you make of it?" "i am almost afraid to say, tom." "afraid?" "yes. if it is what i think, we may be doomed," went on the eldest rover seriously. "dick! what do you think it is?" "the crackling of flames. they have set the ranch on fire." "would they do that--and leave us here? it is--is inhuman." "those men are desperate characters, tom, and they'd stop at nothing." they continued to listen, and soon the roaring and crackling grew plainer. then came a dull thud as some timbers fell, and a current of air carried some smoke into the cell. "we must get out--somehow, some way!" cried dick. "if we don't, we'll be caught like beasts in a cage." a sudden thought struck him. "tom, take up one of the stones." dick lit what was left of the candle-wick as he spoke and placed it on the bench. then he took up the other stone. "now, aim for the lock of the door," he went on, "and both throw together. ready?" "yes." "one, two, three!" crash! both large stones hit the door with tremendous force. the barrier was split from end to end, but still held firm. "again!" cried dick, and once more the stones were hurled in mad desperation. there was an-other crash, and the door tottered and came away from the lock. then tom threw his weight against it and it burst open fully. a rush of hot air and smoke greeted them as they leaped into the passageway. looking up, they saw that the flooring above was already burning. "we can't go up through the trap-door," said dick. "we have got to find some other way out." "is there another way?" "i don't know. come." the passageway ran in both directions. they felt their way along for ten feet, to find themselves against another wall. "the other way!" sang out tom. "phew! it's getting pretty warm down here, isn't it?" "and smoky," answered his brother, beginning to cough. they passed the cell again and started down the passageway in the opposite direction. twenty feet further on they reached a wooden door, bolted on the other side. "stumped again," muttered tom. "dick, what shall we do now?" "try to break it down. now, then, with all your might, tom!" it was their only hope, and with increased energy they hurled themselves at the door, which bent and creaked. then, at the fourth onslaught, the door flew open and they went sprawling into the underground chamber beyond. here the light from the blazing building could be plainly seen, and by this they made out that they were in a regular printing office. three foot-power presses were there, also a quantity of variously colored inks and packages of odd-colored paper. but they could waste no time in investigating. the burning brands were dropping around them, and they leaped across the printing room to where they saw another passageway. this had a door, but the barrier stood wide open. "in you go!" sang out dick. "it must lead somewhere--and, anyway, we can't stay here." they rushed into the passageway, not an instant too soon, for a second later there came another crash and the printing room was filled with sparks and bits of burning timber. then a cloud of smoke all but choked them. half-blinded, and scarcely knowing what they were doing, the two rover boys ran on and on, down the passageway. it had several crooks and turns, and more than once they brought up against some stones and dirt in anything but an agreeable fashion. but they felt that they were getting away from the fire and smoke, and that just then meant everything to them. at last, the danger from the conflagration seemed to be passed, and they slackened their pace, and finally came to a halt. both were out of breath. "whe--where does this lead to?" gasped tom. "that's a riddle, tom. but i know it has taken us away from the fire, which is a blessing." "dick, we have had a narrow escape." "right you are." "those rascals meant to burn us up!" "they were afraid we knew too much about their affairs." "they ought to go to jail for this, and dan baxter with them." "i wish we were out of this passageway and could find the rest of our crowd." "we must find a way out." this was easier said than done. they went on once more, and soon, without warning, stepped into water up to their knees. "back!" cried dick, who was in advance. "we don't want to get drowned. that would be as bad as being burnt up." "we can swim," answered tom as he scrambled back. "true, but i want to know where i am swimming to, don't you?" tom got out his waterproof match safe and found that it contained just one match. this was lit, and then he set fire to some leaves from a notebook in his pocket. by this light, they saw another turn of the passageway, leading upward. "that must be a way out," exclaimed tom, and started in the direction, followed by his brother. "now, go slow," warned dick when they were once more in darkness, the paper having burnt itself out. "we don't want to run into any more danger, if we can avoid it." "i am on my guard," answered tom. they soon found that the side passage narrowed greatly, so that they had to proceed in single file and with heads bent. they moved with their hands in front of their heads, so as to avoid a possible collision with the rocks along the way. presently dick's hand came in contact with something long and straggling. he drew back, thinking he had touched a snake. but then he grew bolder and found it to be a tree root. "that shows we are close to the surface of the ground," said he. "if the worst comes to the worst, i fancy we can dig our way upward with our hands." "maybe, but we don't want this roof to cave in on us, dick. come on." they continued to go forward, but now the passageway was so small that they had to crawl on their hands and knees. "this looks as if we were going to be blocked, after all," said tom. "something is ahead," whispered dick. "be quiet!" "what do you see?" "there is an opening, and i can see a little light, and, what is more, i hear the sounds of voices. maybe we have run into our enemies again!" chapter xxviii from one surprise to another left to themselves in the woods, fred, songbird and hans scarcely knew what to do to fill in their time. "i must say, i don't like this dividing up at all," remarked fred, after a half-hour had passed. "first it was sam and dick, and now it is tom. after a while none of us will know where any of the others are. even the dog has left us." it may be added here that they never saw wags again. "vell, you can't vos plame tom for drying to find his brudders," came from hans. "i vos do dot mineselluf, of i peen him." "i hope tom steers clear of trouble," said songbird. "you know how he is--the greatest hand for getting into mischief." the time dragged heavily on their hands, and when it grew dark not one of them felt like retiring. songbird tried to put on a cheerful front, but it was a dismal failure, and nobody listened to the rhymes he made half under his breath. at last came a whistle, repeated several times in rapid succession. then a form emerged out of the darkness. "who goes there?" shouted fred. "hullo, boys!" was the answering cry, and james monday came into the little clearing. "i was afraid i had lost my way." "didn't you see tom?" they asked. "yes, i saw him--up to the ranch. he came with a letter, and that spoilt about everything, for it was a warning. they found out who he was through that baxter and made him a prisoner. then i had to sneak away, for i knew they were after me, too." "found out you wasn't me, eh?" put in bill cashaw. "thought they might. that crowd is a clever one. where's my wagon and horses?" "i had to leave them behind. here are your hat and coat. i'll thank you to give me my own," went on the government official, and the exchange was quickly made. the boys asked james monday many questions, which he answered as best he could. but he was in a hurry, and told them so. "i want to watch that ranch," he said. "but i'd like one of you to ride to town as hard as you can and take a message for me." "i'll take the message, if there is anything in it," came quickly from bill cashaw. "no, i want one of the boys to take it. you can go along, if you wish," went on james monday. he was not quite willing to trust the old man. the matter was discussed hurriedly, and it was decided that fred should carry the message, and it was written on a slip of paper which the boy tucked away in an inside pocket. then off he and the old man started for town, both on horseback. "the gang at the ranch is a desperate one," said the government official when the pair were gone. "the most i can hope to do is to watch them until help arrives." "then you sent for help?" asked songbird. "yes, and if the message is properly delivered, the help will not be long in arriving." the detective wanted to move closer to the ranch, and hans and songbird did as requested, taking the horses with them. they were as anxious to make a move as was the detective, but just then there seemed nothing to do but to wait. suddenly songbird uttered a cry. "i smell smoke! can the forest be on fire?" "of it vos, ve had besser git owit kvick!" ejaculated hans. "i ton't vont to burn up, nohow!" "i see a light," returned james monday. he ran to where there was a cleared space. "i believe the ranch is on fire!" he gasped. "it is so!" exclaimed songbird. "i can see the flames plainly. now, how did that happen?" "i don't know. let us draw closer. i want to see what sack todd and his crowd will do." the government official hurried forward and the two boys followed him, bringing along the horses as before. soon they were at a spot where they could see the conflagration plainly. to their astonishment, not a soul appeared around the ranch or the outbuildings. "what does this mean?" asked songbird. "that gang certainly can't be in the burning building. "i know what it means!" cried the detective, and there was something like anguish in his voice. "they have abandoned the ranch and set fire to it!" "abandoned the ranch?" repeated songbird. "den vot of der rofer poys?" asked the german youth. "don't ask me," said the detective. "they may have escaped, or else--" he did not finish. "do you mean those rascals might leave them in the ranch, prisoners?" asked songbird. "it's a hard thing to say, but you know as mush as i do. this knocks my last plan endways. i must see if i can't get on the trail of the gang that has run away," james monday added. "will you let me have one of the horses?" "certainly. but--" "unless i act quickly, those men may get miles and miles away, and then it will be next to impossible to round them up," continued the government official. "i must go after fred garrison and hurry along that extra help." "where shall we meet you?" "i can't tell, exactly. we might--hullo, what's that?" a peculiar sound close at hand caused the detective to pause. they heard a flat rock fall down, and then, to their amazement, saw two dirty and begrimed persons emerge from a hole in the ground. "who vos dot?" gasped hans, ready to retreat in fright. "hullo, hans!" cried tom rover. "don't you know dick and me? we just arrived by the new subway." "tom and dick!" ejaculated songbird. "truly, i must be dreaming!" "but you are not," came from dick as he stepped closer. "oh, but i'm glad to get out of that hole!" he added. "and glad to fall among friends once more." "hullo, mr. monday," said tom. "so you escaped, after all? that's good. have any of you seen anything of sam?" "sam?" asked songbird. "wasn't he with you?" "he was, but the counterfeiters carried him off with them when they left the ranch." "then he must still be a prisoner." "yes." "when we first heard your voices, we thought we had run into some of our enemies," said dick. "we were mighty glad to learn otherwise. now, if sam was only here--" "we must find him!" broke in tom. "and the sooner we get on the trail, the better." "i was just going away to hurry along some help," came from james monday. "maybe all of you had better remain in the forest on guard until i get back. if you spread out, you may learn something." a little later, the government official hurried off on one of the horses, leaving the boys to themselves. tom and dick brushed off their clothing and washed up in a nearby pool of water. "i think the best thing we can do is to move over to one of the wagon roads," said dick. "we'll never discover anything in a spot like this." they moved along, taking turns at riding on the horses left to them. they were still a short distance from one of the trails, when they caught sight of a lantern's gleam, and soon after they heard the low murmur of voices. "somebody is over there, that is certain," whispered dick. "don't make any noise, fellows!" almost holding their breath, they crawled forward through the undergrowth and between the rocks, and presently gained a point where they could see the outline of a wagon. the vehicle had lost one wheel, and they could see three persons moving around it, inspecting the damage done. "this is the worst luck yet," they heard a man exclaim. "well, why didn't you look out for ruts?" said another. "look out? how could i look out in such a pitchy darkness?" "what's to be done?" asked a third voice. "i don't know, unless we unhook the team and take turns at riding horseback," was the reply. at this juncture, dick clutched tom by the arm. "two of those fellows are that jimson and dan baxter!" he whispered. "and do you know who is in the wagon, on the rear seat?" "no." "sam." chapter xxix on the trail once more dick and tom were delighted to think that they had gotten on the trail of their brother thus readily, and they and their friends withdrew for a short distance, that they might hold a consultation without being overheard by their enemies. "you are sure it's sam?" questioned songbird. "i must say it was so dark i couldn't see him." "i saw him plainly, just as the lantern was flashed his way," answered dick. "he had his hands behind him. more than likely they are tied fast, or handcuffed." "well, what do you propose?" came from tom. "i move we go in and attack our enemies rough-shod. it is what they deserve." "i second the motion," put in songbird. "dot is vell enough to dalk apout," put in hans. "put blease ton't forgot dat da pistols haf got, und da can shoot, hey?" "you've got a pistol, too, hans." "dot is so." "and i've got one," went on songbird. "dick and i can get rocks and sticks," said tom. "we'll make it warm for them." a few words more, and dick and tom man-aged to find some sticks and stones which suited their purpose. then they moved forward once again. at that moment came a cry from a distance, followed by a pistol shot. the men around the broken-down wagon were instantly on their guard, with pistols and a shotgun. "shoot the first man who tries to corner us!" shouted andy jimson. "don't take any chances." "wait!" cried dick to tom, who was on the point of exposing himself. "don't show yourself now. help may be at hand. besides, those men will shoot as soon as they see us, now." "what did that shot mean?" "i don't know. maybe it was a signal." "if we could only let sam know that we are at hand." further words were cut short by another shot, and a moment later four men came riding up at top speed along the wagon trail. "hullo, what's up here?" came in the voice of sack todd. "had a break-down," growled andy jimson. "what are you shooting for?" "just got word that somebody has gone to town for assistance to round us up. we must change our plans. you'll have to let the wagon stay where it is and take to the horses. luckily, we have some extra ones along. be quick." "what of the prisoner?" "we'd better let him go." "don't you do it!" cried dan baxter. "i tell you, you can make money by holding him." "i'd like to wring baxter's neck for that!" muttered tom. "all right, then, take him along--at least, for the present," said sack todd. "but don't waste time. here are the horses." the transfer from the wagon to the horses was quickly accomplished. sam was made to mount a steed, and andy jimson rode on one side of him and dan baxter on the other. the rest of the men rode in front and in the rear, and soon the spot where the break-down had occurred was left behind. "now, what's to do?" asked tom ruefully. he realized, as well as the others, that it would have been useless to have attacked such a large crowd. "there is but one thing to do, tom: follow them. as soon as they locate, we can go back for help. they can't travel more than twenty-four hours without stopping, and i believe they'll go into hiding as soon as it is daylight." with care, they advanced on the trail of those ahead. this was a rather difficult task, for the lantern had been put out, and it was pitch-dark tinder the trees. more than once their steeds went into a hollow with a jounce that threatened to throw one or another to the ground. "if only james monday would appear with about ten men," sighed tom. "couldn't we make it warm for those chaps!" "he won't be coming back for a long time," said songbird. "he is no wizard, even if he is a detective. it is only in the sensational, five-cent libraries that the noble detective turns up every time he is needed." "yes, and kills about ten men hand-running," added tom with a laugh. at the end of an hour's ride through the forest, all of the boys were so fagged out they could scarcely keep on horseback. it must be remembered that they had to take turns at riding, there not being enough steeds to go around. "i wish they'd come to a stop," muttered songbird. "i declare, if i ever get the chance, i'm going to rest for a week!" "ton't say a vord," groaned hans. "i vos so lame i can't most sit up alretty!" "let us be thankful if they don't discover that we are following them," said dick. "if they did find it out, they would certainly make it warm for us." a little while later the forest was left behind, and the party ahead and that in the rear came out on the broad and rolling prairies. it was growing cloudy, so that the boys kept their enemies in sight with difficulty, not daring to draw too close. far away, they could see the lights of a town gleaming, but these were soon lost to view around a bit of rising ground. then they forded a small stream and began to climb the slope of a small hill, at the top of which were a series of rocks. here they fancied the counterfeiters might halt, but they were disappointed. the crowd ahead toiled over the hill and then struck off across an-other section of the rolling plains. "i can't ride much further," said tom at last. "i am so tired i am ready to drop." "ditto here," came from songbird. nevertheless, they kept on, and thus was the shadowing continued until four o'clock in the morning, when the party ahead came to a patch of timber on the side of a steep hill. here, among the trees and rocks, they went into a temporary camp. the boys had come as close as they dared, and reaching a convenient hillock with a clump of bushes, dismounted and threw themselves on the ground. "they are going into camp, sure enough," announced dick after a careful inspection. "now, the question arises: what is best to do next?" "i know what ought to be done," answered his brother, "but i am too tired to do it." "go for help?" asked songbird. "exactly. but i could no more ride back to town than i could fly." "dot is vot's der madder mit me," put in hans. "i could schleep standing ub, ain't it!" "well, i'll go for help, then," said dick. "but i must have one of the horses." "take the best of them, dick." the eldest rover inspected the animals, and finally chose one that looked fairly fresh. "now, mind, don't get into more trouble while i am gone," he said. "if they move on, simply keep them in sight." a few minutes later, dick took his departure, moving straight for the town they had seen earlier in the night. he knew nothing of the trails, but trusted to luck not to go astray. "i've got to make that town," he told himself. "and do it without wasting time, too." soon he found himself utterly alone on the plains, and, urging his horse forward at the steed's best rate of speed--a gallop that was anything but easy to the worn-out youth. but dick was not thinking of himself. his mind was on sam, and how his youngest brother might be rescued. "whoa, there!" the command was a most unexpected one, coming from out of the darkness, and at the word dick's horse came to a standstill. for the instant the youth could see nobody, but then two horsemen hove into sight, each heavily armed. at first, dick could not make out who they were, but as they drew nearer his heart sank within him. one of the newcomers was a man he had seen working around red rock ranch and the other was the negro called watermelon pete, the fellow who had given the rovers trouble while on the houseboat. chapter xxx a round-up-conclusion the man from red rock ranch was very much startled to see dick, and stared at the youth for several seconds without speaking. the eldest rover thought for an instant of putting his horse to flight, but then realized with a pang that the animal would not be equal to the task. "where under the sun did you come from?" growled the man at last. "it's dat same fellah!" cried watermelon pete. "i dun see him on de ribber an' at de ranch, too!" "yes, the fellow who was left in a cell at red rock," returned the white man. "how did you escape?" he went on, to dick. "smashed the door and came out in a hurry," answered dick. he saw no harm in telling the truth. "where is your brother?" "what business is that of yours?" "don't get funny with me," growled the man. "are you alone?" he continued, peering around in the darkness. "you had better find out." "why don't you finish him off, puller?" came from the negro. "ain't nobody else around." "you're a fine rascal!" burst out dick. "if you touch me, there is going to be trouble." "i reckon you'll come with me," said the white man harshly. "we ain't goin' to run no risks, understand? if you put anybody on our trail--" he did not finish. "face around there!" he ordered. "see here, do you think you are treating me fairly?" asked dick. he wished to gain time, so that he could think matters over and decide what was best to do. "i won't parley the question," growled the man. "face around and do it quick, if you want to save your hide." there was no help for it, and dick faced around. as he did so, he caught the sounds of hoof strokes at a distance. puller and water-melon pete did not appear to notice them. "wait a minute, i dropped something," said the eldest rover, and slid to the ground. he pre-tended to search around. "got a light?" "what did you drop?" "something valuable," said dick, but did not add that it was only a harness buckle. he was straining his ears and heard the hoof strokes coming closer. "well, hurry up and find it. we are not going to stay here until the sun comes up," growled puller. a moment later, the sounds of horses approaching could be heard plainly. dick began to cough loudly, but the ears of the negro could not be deceived. "listen!" he said warningly. "hosses comin', suah as yo' is boahn!" "horses?" cried the white man. "then we had better make tracks." "who is there?" cried dick at the top of his voice. if they were enemies, he knew he could be no worse off. "shut your mouth!" howled the white man. "hullo!" was the answering call, and in a moment several men dashed up, all heavily armed, and accompanied by james monday and fred garrison. "help!" called out dick. "don't let them get away!" "they are not going to catch me!" growled puller, and struck his horse in the side. the animal bounded forward and was followed by that on which the negro was riding. scarcely had this been done when a shot rang out and the negro fell from his saddle to the ground. "halt, in the name of the law!" cried james monday to puller, but the man paid no attention. several shots were fired at him, but soon the gloom of early morning hid him from view. "i'm more than glad that you have come," cried dick to the government official and fred. "how did you get here so quickly?" "it was mostly luck," answered the detective. "garrison delivered the message to just the right party and i ran into the crowd just coming away from the town. we have got nine men here, and all willing to do their utmost to round up that red rock ranch gang." it was soon learned that watermelon pete had been hit in the thigh. the wound was not a fatal one, but it was destined to put the rascal in the hospital for some time to come. "you must follow that fellow who got away, and at once," said dick to james monday, and then he told of what had happened during the night and of where sack todd and his confederates were located. leaving his tired horse behind him, the eldest rover mounted the animal watermelon pete had been riding, and the whole party, minus the negro, who was left to take care of himself for the time being, started for the rendezvous of the counterfeiters. "if you do any shooting, be careful and don't hit my brother sam," said dick. "i'll warn the men," answered james monday, and did so. dick was so tired he could scarcely sit up in the saddle. but he longed to see sam rescued, and so rode along as best he could. as they neared the spot where tom and his friends were in waiting, they heard a faint shout and soon the fun-loving rover appeared. he had heard the distant firing when watermelon pete was hit and was afraid dick had been wounded. "good! good!" he shouted when he recognized dick and the government official and fred. "this is the best yet. now, i hope we can round up that whole crowd." they continued to advance, and as they did so they heard a firing at a distance, in the direction of the counterfeiters' rendezvous. "something has gone wrong there," cried dick. something had gone wrong, and to the advantage of the rovers, as dick and tom afterwards learned. sam had been left to take care of himself for a few minutes, and by a dexterous twist of his wrists had managed to rid himself of the rope which bound him. watching a favorable moment, the youngest rover slid behind a rock and then began to run at his best rate of speed for another shelter some distance away. as soon as his flight was discovered some men went in pursuit, and two shots were fired at the boy, one grazing his left shoulder, but leaving only a scratch. the counterfeiters would have continued to pursue the fleeing one, but now a new alarm sounded out and a guard rushed up. "a posse is after us!" called the guard. "we have got to fight, or ride for it." "let us fight!" exclaimed sack todd, but this proposition was voted down, as it was not known how many were after the evildoers. sack todd was the last man to leap into the saddle. as he did so, he gritted his teeth hard. "they shan't capture me!" he muttered. "i am not to be taken alive!" away went the crowd at a breakneck speed, dan baxter in their midst. but at the first opportunity the bully turned to the southward and he disappeared when a patch of timber was gained. "this is too hot for me," he muttered. "i guess the best thing i can do is to get out of this neighborhood and skip for parts unknown for a while." and then he urged his horse still further to the southward, until the mists in a swamp in the midst of the timber hid him completely from view. having escaped from his captors, sam hardly knew what to do, but, as he heard a number of shots fired, he made up his mind that help must be at hand, and so he hurried back on the trail, and presently came in sight of the other boys. then he set up a mad shout of joy, which they quickly echoed. "are you perfectly safe, sam?" asked dick, riding up. "yes, although i had a narrow escape," and the youngest rover pointed to where the bullet had grazed his shoulder. "what of the others?" "all safe and sound," sang out tom, coming up. "and james monday and a big posse are after sack todd and his crowd hot-footed." "shall we join in?" asked songbird. "i can't go another step," answered dick. "i am more than tired," and he sank in a heap on the saddle. "you boys stay here, and we'll fix those rascals," cried a man of the posse. "you have done enough." "i guess we have," said tom. "we are safe and sound, and that is the main thing, so far as we are concerned." here let me add a few words more and then bring to a close this tale of "the rover boys on the plains." utterly worn out, the boys remained where they were until noon of the day which was now dawning. at a great distance, they heard pistol and gun shots, and they knew that some sort of a fight must be going on. they were just preparing to move for town, when they saw two of the posse returning with three prisoners, each disarmed and with his hands bound behind him. one of the prisoners was puller and another andy jimson. "we are going to get most of them," said one of the posse to the boys. "but they are a pretty desperate lot." the prisoners were placed in charge of the rovers and their friends, and the whole party moved for town without delay, while the men of the posse went back to continue the hunt for the counterfeiters. in the end, every man but sack todd was captured. dan baxter was tracked to the edge of the swamp, and there his horse was found, stuck in the ooze, nearby lay the hat of the bully. "my opinion is that baxter lost his life trying to get through the swamp," said james monday after the hunt had come to a finish. "what a horrible end," said sam, and shivered. "perhaps he did lose his life," was dick's comment. "but i shan't believe it until i have the direct evidence. i guess, though, i've seen the last of my watch," he added. a search was kept up for several days for baxter, but it brought no further traces of the misguided youth. "he is gone, that's sure," said tom. "i must say, i never thought he'd have such an ending as this!" james monday was much chagrined to think that sack todd had slipped him, but he was much elated when one of the posse found several pack-ages among the rocks. these packages contained all of the printing plates used in the manufacturing of the counterfeit bank notes. "the plates are what the government wants, most of all," he told the boys. "they were made by an old engraver who was once in the employ of the government. the man is too old and shaky to make other plates, and as sack todd isn't an engraver himself, it's not likely he will attempt to go into the business again." as soon as all the criminals were properly jailed and the boys had given their testimony, they obtained a good night's rest and then set off for carson denton's plantation. the remainder of the trip proved uneventful, and when they reached their destination they felt in the best of spirits once more. the news of what had occurred had preceded them, and they were looked upon as heroes by the girls and mrs. laning and mrs. stanhope. "but you mustn't get into any such trouble again," said dora to dick. "think, if you had been burnt up at that fire!" cried nellie. "or if those bad men had shot you," added grace. "well, we came out of it with a whole skin," said tom, "so we need not complain." "and i guess, with baxter gone, our troubles are about over," said sam. but he was mistaken in his surmise, as we shall learn in the next volume of this series, entitled "the rover boys in southern waters; or, the deserted steam yacht." in this volume we shall meet all of our young friends again and learn the particulars of a most peculiar happening. when the proper time came, the rascals who had been captured were tried and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. all that remained of red rock ranch was confiscated by the government, and the paper and printing machinery were destroyed. while at the plantation, the boys had much sport hunting and fishing and riding. the girls often went along; and all too soon it was announced that the houseboat was once more ready for use, and the brief outing ashore must come to an end. "well, take it all in all, we have had a good time," said dick "yes," answered sam, "although we had a little more excitement than we bargained for." "excitement!" came from tom. "pooh! life wouldn't be worth living without some excitement." and then he set up a merry whistle; and with that whistle let us bring this story to a close. the end dorothy and the wizard in oz a faithful record of their amazing adventures in an underground world; and how with the aid of their friends zeb hugson, eureka the kitten, and jim the cab-horse, they finally reached the wonderful land of oz by l. frank baum "royal historian of oz" --to my readers-- . the earthquake . the glass city . the arrival of the wizard . the vegetable kingdom . dorothy picks the princess . the mangaboos prove dangerous . into the black pit and out again . the valley of voices . they fight the invisible bears . the braided man of pyramid mountain . they meet the wooden gargoyles . a wonderful escape . the den of the dragonettes . ozma uses the magic belt . old friends are reunited . jim, the cab-horse . the nine tiny piglets . the trial of eureka, the kitten . the wizard performs another trick . zeb returns to the ranch to my readers it's no use; no use at all. the children won't let me stop telling tales of the land of oz. i know lots of other stories, and i hope to tell them, some time or another; but just now my loving tyrants won't allow me. they cry: "oz--oz! more about oz, mr. baum!" and what can i do but obey their commands? this is our book--mine and the children's. for they have flooded me with thousands of suggestions in regard to it, and i have honestly tried to adopt as many of these suggestions as could be fitted into one story. after the wonderful success of "ozma of oz" it is evident that dorothy has become a firm fixture in these oz stories. the little ones all love dorothy, and as one of my small friends aptly states: "it isn't a real oz story without her." so here she is again, as sweet and gentle and innocent as ever, i hope, and the heroine of another strange adventure. there were many requests from my little correspondents for "more about the wizard." it seems the jolly old fellow made hosts of friends in the first oz book, in spite of the fact that he frankly acknowledged himself "a humbug." the children had heard how he mounted into the sky in a balloon and they were all waiting for him to come down again. so what could i do but tell "what happened to the wizard afterward"? you will find him in these pages, just the same humbug wizard as before. there was one thing the children demanded which i found it impossible to do in this present book: they bade me introduce toto, dorothy's little black dog, who has many friends among my readers. but you will see, when you begin to read the story, that toto was in kansas while dorothy was in california, and so she had to start on her adventure without him. in this book dorothy had to take her kitten with her instead of her dog; but in the next oz book, if i am permitted to write one, i intend to tell a good deal about toto's further history. princess ozma, whom i love as much as my readers do, is again introduced in this story, and so are several of our old friends of oz. you will also become acquainted with jim the cab-horse, the nine tiny piglets, and eureka, the kitten. i am sorry the kitten was not as well behaved as she ought to have been; but perhaps she wasn't brought up properly. dorothy found her, you see, and who her parents were nobody knows. i believe, my dears, that i am the proudest story-teller that ever lived. many a time tears of pride and joy have stood in my eyes while i read the tender, loving, appealing letters that came to me in almost every mail from my little readers. to have pleased you, to have interested you, to have won your friendship, and perhaps your love, through my stories, is to my mind as great an achievement as to become president of the united states. indeed, i would much rather be your story-teller, under these conditions, than to be the president. so you have helped me to fulfill my life's ambition, and i am more grateful to you, my dears, than i can express in words. i try to answer every letter of my young correspondents; yet sometimes there are so many letters that a little time must pass before you get your answer. but be patient, friends, for the answer will surely come, and by writing to me you more than repay me for the pleasant task of preparing these books. besides, i am proud to acknowledge that the books are partly yours, for your suggestions often guide me in telling the stories, and i am sure they would not be half so good without your clever and thoughtful assistance. l. frank baum coronado, . . the earthquake the train from 'frisco was very late. it should have arrived at hugson's siding at midnight, but it was already five o'clock and the gray dawn was breaking in the east when the little train slowly rumbled up to the open shed that served for the station-house. as it came to a stop the conductor called out in a loud voice: "hugson's siding!" at once a little girl rose from her seat and walked to the door of the car, carrying a wicker suit-case in one hand and a round bird-cage covered up with newspapers in the other, while a parasol was tucked under her arm. the conductor helped her off the car and then the engineer started his train again, so that it puffed and groaned and moved slowly away up the track. the reason he was so late was because all through the night there were times when the solid earth shook and trembled under him, and the engineer was afraid that at any moment the rails might spread apart and an accident happen to his passengers. so he moved the cars slowly and with caution. the little girl stood still to watch until the train had disappeared around a curve; then she turned to see where she was. the shed at hugson's siding was bare save for an old wooden bench, and did not look very inviting. as she peered through the soft gray light not a house of any sort was visible near the station, nor was any person in sight; but after a while the child discovered a horse and buggy standing near a group of trees a short distance away. she walked toward it and found the horse tied to a tree and standing motionless, with its head hanging down almost to the ground. it was a big horse, tall and bony, with long legs and large knees and feet. she could count his ribs easily where they showed through the skin of his body, and his head was long and seemed altogether too big for him, as if it did not fit. his tail was short and scraggly, and his harness had been broken in many places and fastened together again with cords and bits of wire. the buggy seemed almost new, for it had a shiny top and side curtains. getting around in front, so that she could look inside, the girl saw a boy curled up on the seat, fast asleep. she set down the bird-cage and poked the boy with her parasol. presently he woke up, rose to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes briskly. "hello!" he said, seeing her, "are you dorothy gale?" "yes," she answered, looking gravely at his tousled hair and blinking gray eyes. "have you come to take me to hugson's ranch?" "of course," he answered. "train in?" "i couldn't be here if it wasn't," she said. he laughed at that, and his laugh was merry and frank. jumping out of the buggy he put dorothy's suit-case under the seat and her bird-cage on the floor in front. "canary-birds?" he asked. "oh no; it's just eureka, my kitten. i thought that was the best way to carry her." the boy nodded. "eureka's a funny name for a cat," he remarked. "i named my kitten that because i found it," she explained. "uncle henry says 'eureka' means 'i have found it.'" "all right; hop in." she climbed into the buggy and he followed her. then the boy picked up the reins, shook them, and said "gid-dap!" the horse did not stir. dorothy thought he just wiggled one of his drooping ears, but that was all. "gid-dap!" called the boy, again. the horse stood still. "perhaps," said dorothy, "if you untied him, he would go." the boy laughed cheerfully and jumped out. "guess i'm half asleep yet," he said, untying the horse. "but jim knows his business all right--don't you, jim?" patting the long nose of the animal. then he got into the buggy again and took the reins, and the horse at once backed away from the tree, turned slowly around, and began to trot down the sandy road which was just visible in the dim light. "thought that train would never come," observed the boy. "i've waited at that station for five hours." "we had a lot of earthquakes," said dorothy. "didn't you feel the ground shake?" "yes; but we're used to such things in california," he replied. "they don't scare us much." "the conductor said it was the worst quake he ever knew." "did he? then it must have happened while i was asleep," he said thoughtfully. "how is uncle henry?" she enquired, after a pause during which the horse continued to trot with long, regular strides. "he's pretty well. he and uncle hugson have been having a fine visit." "is mr. hugson your uncle?" she asked. "yes. uncle bill hugson married your uncle henry's wife's sister; so we must be second cousins," said the boy, in an amused tone. "i work for uncle bill on his ranch, and he pays me six dollars a month and my board." "isn't that a great deal?" she asked, doubtfully. "why, it's a great deal for uncle hugson, but not for me. i'm a splendid worker. i work as well as i sleep," he added, with a laugh. "what is your name?" said dorothy, thinking she liked the boy's manner and the cheery tone of his voice. "not a very pretty one," he answered, as if a little ashamed. "my whole name is zebediah; but folks just call me 'zeb.' you've been to australia, haven't you?" "yes; with uncle henry," she answered. "we got to san francisco a week ago, and uncle henry went right on to hugson's ranch for a visit while i stayed a few days in the city with some friends we had met." "how long will you be with us?" he asked. "only a day. tomorrow uncle henry and i must start back for kansas. we've been away for a long time, you know, and so we're anxious to get home again." the boy flicked the big, boney horse with his whip and looked thoughtful. then he started to say something to his little companion, but before he could speak the buggy began to sway dangerously from side to side and the earth seemed to rise up before them. next minute there was a roar and a sharp crash, and at her side dorothy saw the ground open in a wide crack and then come together again. "goodness!" she cried, grasping the iron rail of the seat. "what was that?" "that was an awful big quake," replied zeb, with a white face. "it almost got us that time, dorothy." the horse had stopped short, and stood firm as a rock. zeb shook the reins and urged him to go, but jim was stubborn. then the boy cracked his whip and touched the animal's flanks with it, and after a low moan of protest jim stepped slowly along the road. neither the boy nor the girl spoke again for some minutes. there was a breath of danger in the very air, and every few moments the earth would shake violently. jim's ears were standing erect upon his head and every muscle of his big body was tense as he trotted toward home. he was not going very fast, but on his flanks specks of foam began to appear and at times he would tremble like a leaf. the sky had grown darker again and the wind made queer sobbing sounds as it swept over the valley. suddenly there was a rending, tearing sound, and the earth split into another great crack just beneath the spot where the horse was standing. with a wild neigh of terror the animal fell bodily into the pit, drawing the buggy and its occupants after him. dorothy grabbed fast hold of the buggy top and the boy did the same. the sudden rush into space confused them so that they could not think. blackness engulfed them on every side, and in breathless silence they waited for the fall to end and crush them against jagged rocks or for the earth to close in on them again and bury them forever in its dreadful depths. the horrible sensation of falling, the darkness and the terrifying noises, proved more than dorothy could endure and for a few moments the little girl lost consciousness. zeb, being a boy, did not faint, but he was badly frightened, and clung to the buggy seat with a tight grip, expecting every moment would be his last. . the glass city when dorothy recovered her senses they were still falling, but not so fast. the top of the buggy caught the air like a parachute or an umbrella filled with wind, and held them back so that they floated downward with a gentle motion that was not so very disagreeable to bear. the worst thing was their terror of reaching the bottom of this great crack in the earth, and the natural fear that sudden death was about to overtake them at any moment. crash after crash echoed far above their heads, as the earth came together where it had split, and stones and chunks of clay rattled around them on every side. these they could not see, but they could feel them pelting the buggy top, and jim screamed almost like a human being when a stone overtook him and struck his boney body. they did not really hurt the poor horse, because everything was falling together; only the stones and rubbish fell faster than the horse and buggy, which were held back by the pressure of the air, so that the terrified animal was actually more frightened than he was injured. how long this state of things continued dorothy could not even guess, she was so greatly bewildered. but bye and bye, as she stared ahead into the black chasm with a beating heart, she began to dimly see the form of the horse jim--his head up in the air, his ears erect and his long legs sprawling in every direction as he tumbled through space. also, turning her head, she found that she could see the boy beside her, who had until now remained as still and silent as she herself. dorothy sighed and commenced to breathe easier. she began to realize that death was not in store for her, after all, but that she had merely started upon another adventure, which promised to be just as queer and unusual as were those she had before encountered. with this thought in mind the girl took heart and leaned her head over the side of the buggy to see where the strange light was coming from. far below her she found six great glowing balls suspended in the air. the central and largest one was white, and reminded her of the sun. around it were arranged, like the five points of a star, the other five brilliant balls; one being rose colored, one violet, one yellow, one blue and one orange. this splendid group of colored suns sent rays darting in every direction, and as the horse and buggy--with dorothy and zeb--sank steadily downward and came nearer to the lights, the rays began to take on all the delicate tintings of a rainbow, growing more and more distinct every moment until all the space was brilliantly illuminated. dorothy was too dazed to say much, but she watched one of jim's big ears turn to violet and the other to rose, and wondered that his tail should be yellow and his body striped with blue and orange like the stripes of a zebra. then she looked at zeb, whose face was blue and whose hair was pink, and gave a little laugh that sounded a bit nervous. "isn't it funny?" she said. the boy was startled and his eyes were big. dorothy had a green streak through the center of her face where the blue and yellow lights came together, and her appearance seemed to add to his fright. "i--i don't s-s-see any-thing funny--'bout it!" he stammered. just then the buggy tipped slowly over upon its side, the body of the horse tipping also. but they continued to fall, all together, and the boy and girl had no difficulty in remaining upon the seat, just as they were before. then they turned bottom side up, and continued to roll slowly over until they were right side up again. during this time jim struggled frantically, all his legs kicking the air; but on finding himself in his former position the horse said, in a relieved tone of voice: "well, that's better!" dorothy and zeb looked at one another in wonder. "can your horse talk?" she asked. "never knew him to, before," replied the boy. "those were the first words i ever said," called out the horse, who had overheard them, "and i can't explain why i happened to speak then. this is a nice scrape you've got me into, isn't it?" "as for that, we are in the same scrape ourselves," answered dorothy, cheerfully. "but never mind; something will happen pretty soon." "of course," growled the horse, "and then we shall be sorry it happened." zeb gave a shiver. all this was so terrible and unreal that he could not understand it at all, and so had good reason to be afraid. swiftly they drew near to the flaming colored suns, and passed close beside them. the light was then so bright that it dazzled their eyes, and they covered their faces with their hands to escape being blinded. there was no heat in the colored suns, however, and after they had passed below them the top of the buggy shut out many of the piercing rays so that the boy and girl could open their eyes again. "we've got to come to the bottom some time," remarked zeb, with a deep sigh. "we can't keep falling forever, you know." "of course not," said dorothy. "we are somewhere in the middle of the earth, and the chances are we'll reach the other side of it before long. but it's a big hollow, isn't it?" "awful big!" answered the boy. "we're coming to something now," announced the horse. at this they both put their heads over the side of the buggy and looked down. yes; there was land below them; and not so very far away, either. but they were floating very, very slowly--so slowly that it could no longer be called a fall--and the children had ample time to take heart and look about them. they saw a landscape with mountains and plains, lakes and rivers, very like those upon the earth's surface; but all the scene was splendidly colored by the variegated lights from the six suns. here and there were groups of houses that seemed made of clear glass, because they sparkled so brightly. "i'm sure we are in no danger," said dorothy, in a sober voice. "we are falling so slowly that we can't be dashed to pieces when we land, and this country that we are coming to seems quite pretty." "we'll never get home again, though!" declared zeb, with a groan. "oh, i'm not so sure of that," replied the girl. "but don't let us worry over such things, zeb; we can't help ourselves just now, you know, and i've always been told it's foolish to borrow trouble." the boy became silent, having no reply to so sensible a speech, and soon both were fully occupied in staring at the strange scenes spread out below them. they seemed to be falling right into the middle of a big city which had many tall buildings with glass domes and sharp-pointed spires. these spires were like great spear-points, and if they tumbled upon one of them they were likely to suffer serious injury. jim the horse had seen these spires, also, and his ears stood straight up with fear, while dorothy and zeb held their breaths in suspense. but no; they floated gently down upon a broad, flat roof, and came to a stop at last. when jim felt something firm under his feet the poor beast's legs trembled so much that he could hardly stand; but zeb at once leaped out of the buggy to the roof, and he was so awkward and hasty that he kicked over dorothy's bird-cage, which rolled out upon the roof so that the bottom came off. at once a pink kitten crept out of the upset cage, sat down upon the glass roof, and yawned and blinked its round eyes. "oh," said dorothy. "there's eureka." "first time i ever saw a pink cat," said zeb. "eureka isn't pink; she's white. it's this queer light that gives her that color." "where's my milk?" asked the kitten, looking up into dorothy's face. "i'm 'most starved to death." "oh, eureka! can you talk?" "talk! am i talking? good gracious, i believe i am. isn't it funny?" asked the kitten. "it's all wrong," said zeb, gravely. "animals ought not to talk. but even old jim has been saying things since we had our accident." "i can't see that it's wrong," remarked jim, in his gruff tones. "at least, it isn't as wrong as some other things. what's going to become of us now?" "i don't know," answered the boy, looking around him curiously. the houses of the city were all made of glass, so clear and transparent that one could look through the walls as easily as through a window. dorothy saw, underneath the roof on which she stood, several rooms used for rest chambers, and even thought she could make out a number of queer forms huddled into the corners of these rooms. the roof beside them had a great hole smashed through it, and pieces of glass were lying scattered in every direction. a nearby steeple had been broken off short and the fragments lay heaped beside it. other buildings were cracked in places or had corners chipped off from them; but they must have been very beautiful before these accidents had happened to mar their perfection. the rainbow tints from the colored suns fell upon the glass city softly and gave to the buildings many delicate, shifting hues which were very pretty to see. but not a sound had broken the stillness since the strangers had arrived, except that of their own voices. they began to wonder if there were no people to inhabit this magnificent city of the inner world. suddenly a man appeared through a hole in the roof next to the one they were on and stepped into plain view. he was not a very large man, but was well formed and had a beautiful face--calm and serene as the face of a fine portrait. his clothing fitted his form snugly and was gorgeously colored in brilliant shades of green, which varied as the sunbeams touched them but was not wholly influenced by the solar rays. the man had taken a step or two across the glass roof before he noticed the presence of the strangers; but then he stopped abruptly. there was no expression of either fear or surprise upon his tranquil face, yet he must have been both astonished and afraid; for after his eyes had rested upon the ungainly form of the horse for a moment he walked rapidly to the furthest edge of the roof, his head turned back over his shoulder to gaze at the strange animal. "look out!" cried dorothy, who noticed that the beautiful man did not look where he was going; "be careful, or you'll fall off!" but he paid no attention to her warning. he reached the edge of the tall roof, stepped one foot out into the air, and walked into space as calmly as if he were on firm ground. the girl, greatly astonished, ran to lean over the edge of the roof, and saw the man walking rapidly through the air toward the ground. soon he reached the street and disappeared through a glass doorway into one of the glass buildings. "how strange!" she exclaimed, drawing a long breath. "yes; but it's lots of fun, if it is strange," remarked the small voice of the kitten, and dorothy turned to find her pet walking in the air a foot or so away from the edge of the roof. "come back, eureka!" she called, in distress, "you'll certainly be killed." "i have nine lives," said the kitten, purring softly as it walked around in a circle and then came back to the roof; "but i can't lose even one of them by falling in this country, because i really couldn't manage to fall if i wanted to." "does the air bear up your weight?" asked the girl. "of course; can't you see?" and again the kitten wandered into the air and back to the edge of the roof. "it's wonderful!" said dorothy. "suppose we let eureka go down to the street and get some one to help us," suggested zeb, who had been even more amazed than dorothy at these strange happenings. "perhaps we can walk on the air ourselves," replied the girl. zeb drew back with a shiver. "i wouldn't dare try," he said. "maybe jim will go," continued dorothy, looking at the horse. "and maybe he won't!" answered jim. "i've tumbled through the air long enough to make me contented on this roof." "but we didn't tumble to the roof," said the girl; "by the time we reached here we were floating very slowly, and i'm almost sure we could float down to the street without getting hurt. eureka walks on the air all right." "eureka weights only about half a pound," replied the horse, in a scornful tone, "while i weigh about half a ton." "you don't weigh as much as you ought to, jim," remarked the girl, shaking her head as she looked at the animal. "you're dreadfully skinny." "oh, well; i'm old," said the horse, hanging his head despondently, "and i've had lots of trouble in my day, little one. for a good many years i drew a public cab in chicago, and that's enough to make anyone skinny." "he eats enough to get fat, i'm sure," said the boy, gravely. "do i? can you remember any breakfast that i've had today?" growled jim, as if he resented zeb's speech. "none of us has had breakfast," said the boy; "and in a time of danger like this it's foolish to talk about eating." "nothing is more dangerous than being without food," declared the horse, with a sniff at the rebuke of his young master; "and just at present no one can tell whether there are any oats in this queer country or not. if there are, they are liable to be glass oats!" "oh, no!" exclaimed dorothy. "i can see plenty of nice gardens and fields down below us, at the edge of this city. but i wish we could find a way to get to the ground." "why don't you walk down?" asked eureka. "i'm as hungry as the horse is, and i want my milk." "will you try it, zeb?" asked the girl, turning to her companion. zeb hesitated. he was still pale and frightened, for this dreadful adventure had upset him and made him nervous and worried. but he did not wish the little girl to think him a coward, so he advanced slowly to the edge of the roof. dorothy stretched out a hand to him and zeb put one foot out and let it rest in the air a little over the edge of the roof. it seemed firm enough to walk upon, so he took courage and put out the other foot. dorothy kept hold of his hand and followed him, and soon they were both walking through the air, with the kitten frisking beside them. "come on, jim!" called the boy. "it's all right." jim had crept to the edge of the roof to look over, and being a sensible horse and quite experienced, he made up his mind that he could go where the others did. so, with a snort and a neigh and a whisk of his short tail he trotted off the roof into the air and at once began floating downward to the street. his great weight made him fall faster than the children walked, and he passed them on the way down; but when he came to the glass pavement he alighted upon it so softly that he was not even jarred. "well, well!" said dorothy, drawing a long breath, "what a strange country this is." people began to come out of the glass doors to look at the new arrivals, and pretty soon quite a crowd had assembled. there were men and women, but no children at all, and the folks were all beautifully formed and attractively dressed and had wonderfully handsome faces. there was not an ugly person in all the throng, yet dorothy was not especially pleased by the appearance of these people because their features had no more expression than the faces of dolls. they did not smile nor did they frown, or show either fear or surprise or curiosity or friendliness. they simply started at the strangers, paying most attention to jim and eureka, for they had never before seen either a horse or a cat and the children bore an outward resemblance to themselves. pretty soon a man joined the group who wore a glistening star in the dark hair just over his forehead. he seemed to be a person of authority, for the others pressed back to give him room. after turning his composed eyes first upon the animals and then upon the children he said to zeb, who was a little taller than dorothy: "tell me, intruder, was it you who caused the rain of stones?" for a moment the boy did not know what he meant by this question. then, remembering the stones that had fallen with them and passed them long before they had reached this place, he answered: "no, sir; we didn't cause anything. it was the earthquake." the man with the star stood for a time quietly thinking over this speech. then he asked: "what is an earthquake?" "i don't know," said zeb, who was still confused. but dorothy, seeing his perplexity, answered: "it's a shaking of the earth. in this quake a big crack opened and we fell through--horse and buggy, and all--and the stones got loose and came down with us." the man with the star regarded her with his calm, expressionless eyes. "the rain of stones has done much damage to our city," he said; "and we shall hold you responsible for it unless you can prove your innocence." "how can we do that?" asked the girl. "that i am not prepared to say. it is your affair, not mine. you must go to the house of the sorcerer, who will soon discover the truth." "where is the house of the sorcerer?" the girl enquired. "i will lead you to it. come!" he turned and walked down the street, and after a moment's hesitation dorothy caught eureka in her arms and climbed into the buggy. the boy took his seat beside her and said: "gid-dap jim." as the horse ambled along, drawing the buggy, the people of the glass city made way for them and formed a procession in their rear. slowly they moved down one street and up another, turning first this way and then that, until they came to an open square in the center of which was a big glass palace having a central dome and four tall spires on each corner. . the arrival of the wizard the doorway of the glass palace was quite big enough for the horse and buggy to enter, so zeb drove straight through it and the children found themselves in a lofty hall that was very beautiful. the people at once followed and formed a circle around the sides of the spacious room, leaving the horse and buggy and the man with the star to occupy the center of the hall. "come to us, oh, gwig!" called the man, in a loud voice. instantly a cloud of smoke appeared and rolled over the floor; then it slowly spread and ascended into the dome, disclosing a strange personage seated upon a glass throne just before jim's nose. he was formed just as were the other inhabitants of this land and his clothing only differed from theirs in being bright yellow. but he had no hair at all, and all over his bald head and face and upon the backs of his hands grew sharp thorns like those found on the branches of rose-bushes. there was even a thorn upon the tip of his nose and he looked so funny that dorothy laughed when she saw him. the sorcerer, hearing the laugh, looked toward the little girl with cold, cruel eyes, and his glance made her grow sober in an instant. "why have you dared to intrude your unwelcome persons into the secluded land of the mangaboos?" he asked, sternly. "'cause we couldn't help it," said dorothy. "why did you wickedly and viciously send the rain of stones to crack and break our houses?" he continued. "we didn't," declared the girl. "prove it!" cried the sorcerer. "we don't have to prove it," answered dorothy, indignantly. "if you had any sense at all you'd known it was the earthquake." "we only know that yesterday came a rain of stones upon us, which did much damage and injured some of our people. today came another rain of stones, and soon after it you appeared among us." "by the way," said the man with the star, looking steadily at the sorcerer, "you told us yesterday that there would not be a second rain of stones. yet one has just occurred that was even worse than the first. what is your sorcery good for if it cannot tell us the truth?" "my sorcery does tell the truth!" declared the thorn-covered man. "i said there would be but one rain of stones. this second one was a rain of people-and-horse-and-buggy. and some stones came with them." "will there be any more rains?" asked the man with the star. "no, my prince." "neither stones nor people?" "no, my prince." "are you sure?" "quite sure, my prince. my sorcery tells me so." just then a man came running into the hall and addressed the prince after making a low bow. "more wonders in the air, my lord," said he. immediately the prince and all of his people flocked out of the hall into the street, that they might see what was about to happen. dorothy and zeb jumped out of the buggy and ran after them, but the sorcerer remained calmly in his throne. far up in the air was an object that looked like a balloon. it was not so high as the glowing star of the six colored suns, but was descending slowly through the air--so slowly that at first it scarcely seemed to move. the throng stood still and waited. it was all they could do, for to go away and leave that strange sight was impossible; nor could they hurry its fall in any way. the earth children were not noticed, being so near the average size of the mangaboos, and the horse had remained in the house of the sorcerer, with eureka curled up asleep on the seat of the buggy. gradually the balloon grew bigger, which was proof that it was settling down upon the land of the mangaboos. dorothy was surprised to find how patient the people were, for her own little heart was beating rapidly with excitement. a balloon meant to her some other arrival from the surface of the earth, and she hoped it would be some one able to assist her and zeb out of their difficulties. in an hour the balloon had come near enough for her to see a basket suspended below it; in two hours she could see a head looking over the side of the basket; in three hours the big balloon settled slowly into the great square in which they stood and came to rest on the glass pavement. then a little man jumped out of the basket, took off his tall hat, and bowed very gracefully to the crowd of mangaboos around him. he was quite an old little man and his head was long and entirely bald. "why," cried dorothy, in amazement, "it's oz!" the little man looked toward her and seemed as much surprised as she was. but he smiled and bowed as he answered: "yes, my dear; i am oz, the great and terrible. eh? and you are little dorothy, from kansas. i remember you very well." "who did you say it was?" whispered zeb to the girl. "it's the wonderful wizard of oz. haven't you heard of him?" just then the man with the star came and stood before the wizard. "sir," said he, "why are you here, in the land of the mangaboos?" "didn't know what land it was, my son," returned the other, with a pleasant smile; "and, to be honest, i didn't mean to visit you when i started out. i live on top of the earth, your honor, which is far better than living inside it; but yesterday i went up in a balloon, and when i came down i fell into a big crack in the earth, caused by an earthquake. i had let so much gas out of my balloon that i could not rise again, and in a few minutes the earth closed over my head. so i continued to descend until i reached this place, and if you will show me a way to get out of it, i'll go with pleasure. sorry to have troubled you; but it couldn't be helped." the prince had listened with attention. said he: "this child, who is from the crust of the earth, like yourself, called you a wizard. is not a wizard something like a sorcerer?" "it's better," replied oz, promptly. "one wizard is worth three sorcerers." "ah, you shall prove that," said the prince. "we mangaboos have, at the present time, one of the most wonderful sorcerers that ever was picked from a bush; but he sometimes makes mistakes. do you ever make mistakes?" "never!" declared the wizard, boldly. "oh, oz!" said dorothy; "you made a lot of mistakes when you were in the marvelous land of oz." "nonsense!" said the little man, turning red--although just then a ray of violet sunlight was on his round face. "come with me," said the prince to him. "i wish to meet our sorcerer." the wizard did not like this invitation, but he could not refuse to accept it. so he followed the prince into the great domed hall, and dorothy and zeb came after them, while the throng of people trooped in also. there sat the thorny sorcerer in his chair of state, and when the wizard saw him he began to laugh, uttering comical little chuckles. "what an absurd creature!" he exclaimed. "he may look absurd," said the prince, in his quiet voice; "but he is an excellent sorcerer. the only fault i find with him is that he is so often wrong." "i am never wrong," answered the sorcerer. "only a short time ago you told me there would be no more rain of stones or of people," said the prince. "well, what then?" "here is another person descended from the air to prove you were wrong." "one person cannot be called 'people,'" said the sorcerer. "if two should come out of the sky you might with justice say i was wrong; but unless more than this one appears i will hold that i was right." "very clever," said the wizard, nodding his head as if pleased. "i am delighted to find humbugs inside the earth, just the same as on top of it. were you ever with a circus, brother?" "no," said the sorcerer. "you ought to join one," declared the little man seriously. "i belong to bailum & barney's great consolidated shows--three rings in one tent and a menagerie on the side. it's a fine aggregation, i assure you." "what do you do?" asked the sorcerer. "i go up in a balloon, usually, to draw the crowds to the circus. but i've just had the bad luck to come out of the sky, skip the solid earth, and land lower down than i intended. but never mind. it isn't everybody who gets a chance to see your land of the gabazoos." "mangaboos," said the sorcerer, correcting him. "if you are a wizard you ought to be able to call people by their right names." "oh, i'm a wizard; you may be sure of that. just as good a wizard as you are a sorcerer." "that remains to be seen," said the other. "if you are able to prove that you are better," said the prince to the little man, "i will make you the chief wizard of this domain. otherwise--" "what will happen otherwise?" asked the wizard. "i will stop you from living and forbid you to be planted," returned the prince. "that does not sound especially pleasant," said the little man, looking at the one with the star uneasily. "but never mind. i'll beat old prickly, all right." "my name is gwig," said the sorcerer, turning his heartless, cruel eyes upon his rival. "let me see you equal the sorcery i am about to perform." he waved a thorny hand and at once the tinkling of bells was heard, playing sweet music. yet, look where she would, dorothy could discover no bells at all in the great glass hall. the mangaboo people listened, but showed no great interest. it was one of the things gwig usually did to prove he was a sorcerer. now was the wizard's turn, so he smiled upon the assemblage and asked: "will somebody kindly loan me a hat?" no one did, because the mangaboos did not wear hats, and zeb had lost his, somehow, in his flight through the air. "ahem!" said the wizard, "will somebody please loan me a handkerchief?" but they had no handkerchiefs, either. "very good," remarked the wizard. "i'll use my own hat, if you please. now, good people, observe me carefully. you see, there is nothing up my sleeve and nothing concealed about my person. also, my hat is quite empty." he took off his hat and held it upside down, shaking it briskly. "let me see it," said the sorcerer. he took the hat and examined it carefully, returning it afterward to the wizard. "now," said the little man, "i will create something out of nothing." he placed the hat upon the glass floor, made a pass with his hand, and then removed the hat, displaying a little white piglet no bigger than a mouse, which began to run around here and there and to grunt and squeal in a tiny, shrill voice. the people watched it intently, for they had never seen a pig before, big or little. the wizard reached out, caught the wee creature in his hand, and holding its head between one thumb and finger and its tail between the other thumb and finger he pulled it apart, each of the two parts becoming a whole and separate piglet in an instant. he placed one upon the floor, so that it could run around, and pulled apart the other, making three piglets in all; and then one of these was pulled apart, making four piglets. the wizard continued this surprising performance until nine tiny piglets were running about at his feet, all squealing and grunting in a very comical way. "now," said the wizard of oz, "having created something from nothing, i will make something nothing again." with this he caught up two of the piglets and pushed them together, so that the two were one. then he caught up another piglet and pushed it into the first, where it disappeared. and so, one by one, the nine tiny piglets were pushed together until but a single one of the creatures remained. this the wizard placed underneath his hat and made a mystic sign above it. when he removed his hat the last piglet had disappeared entirely. the little man gave a bow to the silent throng that had watched him, and then the prince said, in his cold, calm voice: "you are indeed a wonderful wizard, and your powers are greater than those of my sorcerer." "he will not be a wonderful wizard long," remarked gwig. "why not?" enquired the wizard. "because i am going to stop your breath," was the reply. "i perceive that you are curiously constructed, and that if you cannot breathe you cannot keep alive." the little man looked troubled. "how long will it take you to stop my breath?" he asked. "about five minutes. i'm going to begin now. watch me carefully." he began making queer signs and passes toward the wizard; but the little man did not watch him long. instead, he drew a leathern case from his pocket and took from it several sharp knives, which he joined together, one after another, until they made a long sword. by the time he had attached a handle to this sword he was having much trouble to breathe, as the charm of the sorcerer was beginning to take effect. so the wizard lost no more time, but leaping forward he raised the sharp sword, whirled it once or twice around his head, and then gave a mighty stroke that cut the body of the sorcerer exactly in two. dorothy screamed and expected to see a terrible sight; but as the two halves of the sorcerer fell apart on the floor she saw that he had no bones or blood inside of him at all, and that the place where he was cut looked much like a sliced turnip or potato. "why, he's vegetable!" cried the wizard, astonished. "of course," said the prince. "we are all vegetable, in this country. are you not vegetable, also?" "no," answered the wizard. "people on top of the earth are all meat. will your sorcerer die?" "certainly, sir. he is really dead now, and will wither very quickly. so we must plant him at once, that other sorcerers may grow upon his bush," continued the prince. "what do you mean by that?" asked the little wizard, greatly puzzled. "if you will accompany me to our public gardens," replied the prince, "i will explain to you much better than i can here the mysteries of our vegetable kingdom." . the vegetable kingdom after the wizard had wiped the dampness from his sword and taken it apart and put the pieces into their leathern case again, the man with the star ordered some of his people to carry the two halves of the sorcerer to the public gardens. jim pricked up his ears when he heard they were going to the gardens, and wanted to join the party, thinking he might find something proper to eat; so zeb put down the top of the buggy and invited the wizard to ride with them. the seat was amply wide enough for the little man and the two children, and when jim started to leave the hall the kitten jumped upon his back and sat there quite contentedly. so the procession moved through the streets, the bearers of the sorcerer first, the prince next, then jim drawing the buggy with the strangers inside of it, and last the crowd of vegetable people who had no hearts and could neither smile nor frown. the glass city had several fine streets, for a good many people lived there; but when the procession had passed through these it came upon a broad plain covered with gardens and watered by many pretty brooks that flowed through it. there were paths through these gardens, and over some of the brooks were ornamental glass bridges. dorothy and zeb now got out of the buggy and walked beside the prince, so that they might see and examine the flowers and plants better. "who built these lovely bridges?" asked the little girl. "no one built them," answered the man with the star. "they grow." "that's queer," said she. "did the glass houses in your city grow, too?" "of course," he replied. "but it took a good many years for them to grow as large and fine as they are now. that is why we are so angry when a rain of stones comes to break our towers and crack our roofs." "can't you mend them?" she enquired. "no; but they will grow together again, in time, and we must wait until they do." they first passed through many beautiful gardens of flowers, which grew nearest the city; but dorothy could hardly tell what kind of flowers they were, because the colors were constantly changing under the shifting lights of the six suns. a flower would be pink one second, white the next, then blue or yellow; and it was the same way when they came to the plants, which had broad leaves and grew close to the ground. when they passed over a field of grass jim immediately stretched down his head and began to nibble. "a nice country this is," he grumbled, "where a respectable horse has to eat pink grass!" "it's violet," said the wizard, who was in the buggy. "now it's blue," complained the horse. "as a matter of fact, i'm eating rainbow grass." "how does it taste?" asked the wizard. "not bad at all," said jim. "if they give me plenty of it i'll not complain about its color." by this time the party had reached a freshly plowed field, and the prince said to dorothy: "this is our planting-ground." several mangaboos came forward with glass spades and dug a hole in the ground. then they put the two halves of the sorcerer into it and covered him up. after that other people brought water from a brook and sprinkled the earth. "he will sprout very soon," said the prince, "and grow into a large bush, from which we shall in time be able to pick several very good sorcerers." "do all your people grow on bushes?" asked the boy. "certainly," was the reply. "do not all people grow upon bushes where you came from, on the outside of the earth?" "not that i ever hear of." "how strange! but if you will come with me to one of our folk gardens i will show you the way we grow in the land of the mangaboos." it appeared that these odd people, while they were able to walk through the air with ease, usually moved upon the ground in the ordinary way. there were no stairs in their houses, because they did not need them, but on a level surface they generally walked just as we do. the little party of strangers now followed the prince across a few more of the glass bridges and along several paths until they came to a garden enclosed by a high hedge. jim had refused to leave the field of grass, where he was engaged in busily eating; so the wizard got out of the buggy and joined zeb and dorothy, and the kitten followed demurely at their heels. inside the hedge they came upon row after row of large and handsome plants with broad leaves gracefully curving until their points nearly reached the ground. in the center of each plant grew a daintily dressed mangaboo, for the clothing of all these creatures grew upon them and was attached to their bodies. the growing mangaboos were of all sizes, from the blossom that had just turned into a wee baby to the full-grown and almost ripe man or woman. on some of the bushes might be seen a bud, a blossom, a baby, a half-grown person and a ripe one; but even those ready to pluck were motionless and silent, as if devoid of life. this sight explained to dorothy why she had seen no children among the mangaboos, a thing she had until now been unable to account for. "our people do not acquire their real life until they leave their bushes," said the prince. "you will notice they are all attached to the plants by the soles of their feet, and when they are quite ripe they are easily separated from the stems and at once attain the powers of motion and speech. so while they grow they cannot be said to really live, and they must be picked before they can become good citizens." "how long do you live, after you are picked?" asked dorothy. "that depends upon the care we take of ourselves," he replied. "if we keep cool and moist, and meet with no accidents, we often live for five years. i've been picked over six years, but our family is known to be especially long lived." "do you eat?" asked the boy. "eat! no, indeed. we are quite solid inside our bodies, and have no need to eat, any more than does a potato." "but the potatoes sometimes sprout," said zeb. "and sometimes we do," answered the prince; "but that is considered a great misfortune, for then we must be planted at once." "where did you grow?" asked the wizard. "i will show you," was the reply. "step this way, please." he led them within another but smaller circle of hedge, where grew one large and beautiful bush. "this," said he, "is the royal bush of the mangaboos. all of our princes and rulers have grown upon this one bush from time immemorial." they stood before it in silent admiration. on the central stalk stood poised the figure of a girl so exquisitely formed and colored and so lovely in the expression of her delicate features that dorothy thought she had never seen so sweet and adorable a creature in all her life. the maiden's gown was soft as satin and fell about her in ample folds, while dainty lace-like traceries trimmed the bodice and sleeves. her flesh was fine and smooth as polished ivory, and her poise expressed both dignity and grace. "who is this?" asked the wizard, curiously. the prince had been staring hard at the girl on the bush. now he answered, with a touch of uneasiness in his cold tones: "she is the ruler destined to be my successor, for she is a royal princess. when she becomes fully ripe i must abandon the sovereignty of the mangaboos to her." "isn't she ripe now?" asked dorothy. he hesitated. "not quite," said he, finally. "it will be several days before she needs to be picked, or at least that is my judgment. i am in no hurry to resign my office and be planted, you may be sure." "probably not," declared the wizard, nodding. "this is one of the most unpleasant things about our vegetable lives," continued the prince, with a sigh, "that while we are in our full prime we must give way to another, and be covered up in the ground to sprout and grow and give birth to other people." "i'm sure the princess is ready to be picked," asserted dorothy, gazing hard at the beautiful girl on the bush. "she's as perfect as she can be." "never mind," answered the prince, hastily, "she will be all right for a few days longer, and it is best for me to rule until i can dispose of you strangers, who have come to our land uninvited and must be attended to at once." "what are you going to do with us?" asked zeb. "that is a matter i have not quite decided upon," was the reply. "i think i shall keep this wizard until a new sorcerer is ready to pick, for he seems quite skillful and may be of use to us. but the rest of you must be destroyed in some way, and you cannot be planted, because i do not wish horses and cats and meat people growing all over our country." "you needn't worry," said dorothy. "we wouldn't grow under ground, i'm sure." "but why destroy my friends?" asked the little wizard. "why not let them live?" "they do not belong here," returned the prince. "they have no right to be inside the earth at all." "we didn't ask to come down here; we fell," said dorothy. "that is no excuse," declared the prince, coldly. the children looked at each other in perplexity, and the wizard sighed. eureka rubbed her paw on her face and said in her soft, purring voice: "he won't need to destroy me, for if i don't get something to eat pretty soon i shall starve to death, and so save him the trouble." "if he planted you, he might grow some cat-tails," suggested the wizard. "oh, eureka! perhaps we can find you some milk-weeds to eat," said the boy. "phoo!" snarled the kitten; "i wouldn't touch the nasty things!" "you don't need milk, eureka," remarked dorothy; "you are big enough now to eat any kind of food." "if i can get it," added eureka. "i'm hungry myself," said zeb. "but i noticed some strawberries growing in one of the gardens, and some melons in another place. these people don't eat such things, so perhaps on our way back they will let us get them." "never mind your hunger," interrupted the prince. "i shall order you destroyed in a few minutes, so you will have no need to ruin our pretty melon vines and berry bushes. follow me, please, to meet your doom." . dorothy picks the princess the words of the cold and moist vegetable prince were not very comforting, and as he spoke them he turned away and left the enclosure. the children, feeling sad and despondent, were about to follow him when the wizard touched dorothy softly on her shoulder. "wait!" he whispered. "what for?" asked the girl. "suppose we pick the royal princess," said the wizard. "i'm quite sure she's ripe, and as soon as she comes to life she will be the ruler, and may treat us better than that heartless prince intends to." "all right!" exclaimed dorothy, eagerly. "let's pick her while we have the chance, before the man with the star comes back." so together they leaned over the great bush and each of them seized one hand of the lovely princess. "pull!" cried dorothy, and as they did so the royal lady leaned toward them and the stems snapped and separated from her feet. she was not at all heavy, so the wizard and dorothy managed to lift her gently to the ground. the beautiful creature passed her hands over her eyes an instant, tucked in a stray lock of hair that had become disarranged, and after a look around the garden made those present a gracious bow and said, in a sweet but even toned voice: "i thank you very much." "we salute your royal highness!" cried the wizard, kneeling and kissing her hand. just then the voice of the prince was heard calling upon them to hasten, and a moment later he returned to the enclosure, followed by a number of his people. instantly the princess turned and faced him, and when he saw that she was picked the prince stood still and began to tremble. "sir," said the royal lady, with much dignity, "you have wronged me greatly, and would have wronged me still more had not these strangers come to my rescue. i have been ready for picking all the past week, but because you were selfish and desired to continue your unlawful rule, you left me to stand silent upon my bush." "i did not know that you were ripe," answered the prince, in a low voice. "give me the star of royalty!" she commanded. slowly he took the shining star from his own brow and placed it upon that of the princess. then all the people bowed low to her, and the prince turned and walked away alone. what became of him afterward our friends never knew. the people of mangaboo now formed themselves into a procession and marched toward the glass city to escort their new ruler to her palace and to perform those ceremonies proper to the occasion. but while the people in the procession walked upon the ground the princess walked in the air just above their heads, to show that she was a superior being and more exalted than her subjects. no one now seemed to pay any attention to the strangers, so dorothy and zeb and the wizard let the train pass on and then wandered by themselves into the vegetable gardens. they did not bother to cross the bridges over the brooks, but when they came to a stream they stepped high and walked in the air to the other side. this was a very interesting experience to them, and dorothy said: "i wonder why it is that we can walk so easily in the air." "perhaps," answered the wizard, "it is because we are close to the center of the earth, where the attraction of gravitation is very slight. but i've noticed that many queer things happen in fairy countries." "is this a fairy country?" asked the boy. "of course it is," returned dorothy promptly. "only a fairy country could have veg'table people; and only in a fairy country could eureka and jim talk as we do." "that's true," said zeb, thoughtfully. in the vegetable gardens they found the strawberries and melons, and several other unknown but delicious fruits, of which they ate heartily. but the kitten bothered them constantly by demanding milk or meat, and called the wizard names because he could not bring her a dish of milk by means of his magical arts. as they sat upon the grass watching jim, who was still busily eating, eureka said: "i don't believe you are a wizard at all!" "no," answered the little man, "you are quite right. in the strict sense of the word i am not a wizard, but only a humbug." "the wizard of oz has always been a humbug," agreed dorothy. "i've known him for a long time." "if that is so," said the boy, "how could he do that wonderful trick with the nine tiny piglets?" "don't know," said dorothy, "but it must have been humbug." "very true," declared the wizard, nodding at her. "it was necessary to deceive that ugly sorcerer and the prince, as well as their stupid people; but i don't mind telling you, who are my friends, that the thing was only a trick." "but i saw the little pigs with my own eyes!" exclaimed zeb. "so did i," purred the kitten. "to be sure," answered the wizard. "you saw them because they were there. they are in my inside pocket now. but the pulling of them apart and pushing them together again was only a sleight-of-hand trick." "let's see the pigs," said eureka, eagerly. the little man felt carefully in his pocket and pulled out the tiny piglets, setting them upon the grass one by one, where they ran around and nibbled the tender blades. "they're hungry, too," he said. "oh, what cunning things!" cried dorothy, catching up one and petting it. "be careful!" said the piglet, with a squeal, "you're squeezing me!" "dear me!" murmured the wizard, looking at his pets in astonishment. "they can actually talk!" "may i eat one of them?" asked the kitten, in a pleading voice. "i'm awfully hungry." "why, eureka," said dorothy, reproachfully, "what a cruel question! it would be dreadful to eat these dear little things." "i should say so!" grunted another of the piglets, looking uneasily at the kitten; "cats are cruel things." "i'm not cruel," replied the kitten, yawning. "i'm just hungry." "you cannot eat my piglets, even if you are starving," declared the little man, in a stern voice. "they are the only things i have to prove i'm a wizard." "how did they happen to be so little?" asked dorothy. "i never saw such small pigs before." "they are from the island of teenty-weent," said the wizard, "where everything is small because it's a small island. a sailor brought them to los angeles and i gave him nine tickets to the circus for them." "but what am i going to eat?" wailed the kitten, sitting in front of dorothy and looking pleadingly into her face. "there are no cows here to give milk; or any mice, or even grasshoppers. and if i can't eat the piglets you may as well plant me at once and raise catsup." "i have an idea," said the wizard, "that there are fishes in these brooks. do you like fish?" "fish!" cried the kitten. "do i like fish? why, they're better than piglets--or even milk!" "then i'll try to catch you some," said he. "but won't they be veg'table, like everything else here?" asked the kitten. "i think not. fishes are not animals, and they are as cold and moist as the vegetables themselves. there is no reason, that i can see, why they may not exist in the waters of this strange country." then the wizard bent a pin for a hook and took a long piece of string from his pocket for a fish-line. the only bait he could find was a bright red blossom from a flower; but he knew fishes are easy to fool if anything bright attracts their attention, so he decided to try the blossom. having thrown the end of his line in the water of a nearby brook he soon felt a sharp tug that told him a fish had bitten and was caught on the bent pin; so the little man drew in the string and, sure enough, the fish came with it and was landed safely on the shore, where it began to flop around in great excitement. the fish was fat and round, and its scales glistened like beautifully cut jewels set close together; but there was no time to examine it closely, for eureka made a jump and caught it between her claws, and in a few moments it had entirely disappeared. "oh, eureka!" cried dorothy, "did you eat the bones?" "if it had any bones, i ate them," replied the kitten, composedly, as it washed its face after the meal. "but i don't think that fish had any bones, because i didn't feel them scratch my throat." "you were very greedy," said the girl. "i was very hungry," replied the kitten. the little pigs had stood huddled in a group, watching this scene with frightened eyes. "cats are dreadful creatures!" said one of them. "i'm glad we are not fishes!" said another. "don't worry," dorothy murmured, soothingly, "i'll not let the kitten hurt you." then she happened to remember that in a corner of her suit-case were one or two crackers that were left over from her luncheon on the train, and she went to the buggy and brought them. eureka stuck up her nose at such food, but the tiny piglets squealed delightedly at the sight of the crackers and ate them up in a jiffy. "now let us go back to the city," suggested the wizard. "that is, if jim has had enough of the pink grass." the cab-horse, who was browsing near, lifted his head with a sigh. "i've tried to eat a lot while i had the chance," said he, "for it's likely to be a long while between meals in this strange country. but i'm ready to go, now, at any time you wish." so, after the wizard had put the piglets back into his inside pocket, where they cuddled up and went to sleep, the three climbed into the buggy and jim started back to the town. "where shall we stay?" asked the girl. "i think i shall take possession of the house of the sorcerer," replied the wizard; "for the prince said in the presence of his people that he would keep me until they picked another sorcerer, and the new princess won't know but that we belong there." they agreed to this plan, and when they reached the great square jim drew the buggy into the big door of the domed hall. "it doesn't look very homelike," said dorothy, gazing around at the bare room. "but it's a place to stay, anyhow." "what are those holes up there?" enquired the boy, pointing to some openings that appeared near the top of the dome. "they look like doorways," said dorothy; "only there are no stairs to get to them." "you forget that stairs are unnecessary," observed the wizard. "let us walk up, and see where the doors lead to." with this he began walking in the air toward the high openings, and dorothy and zeb followed him. it was the same sort of climb one experiences when walking up a hill, and they were nearly out of breath when they came to the row of openings, which they perceived to be doorways leading into halls in the upper part of the house. following these halls they discovered many small rooms opening from them, and some were furnished with glass benches, tables and chairs. but there were no beds at all. "i wonder if these people never sleep," said the girl. "why, there seems to be no night at all in this country," zeb replied. "those colored suns are exactly in the same place they were when we came, and if there is no sunset there can be no night." "very true," agreed the wizard. "but it is a long time since i have had any sleep, and i'm tired. so i think i shall lie down upon one of these hard glass benches and take a nap." "i will, too," said dorothy, and chose a little room at the end of the hall. zeb walked down again to unharness jim, who, when he found himself free, rolled over a few times and then settled down to sleep, with eureka nestling comfortably beside his big, boney body. then the boy returned to one of the upper rooms, and in spite of the hardness of the glass bench was soon deep in slumberland. . the mangaboos prove dangerous when the wizard awoke the six colored suns were shining down upon the land of the mangaboos just as they had done ever since his arrival. the little man, having had a good sleep, felt rested and refreshed, and looking through the glass partition of the room he saw zeb sitting up on his bench and yawning. so the wizard went in to him. "zeb," said he, "my balloon is of no further use in this strange country, so i may as well leave it on the square where it fell. but in the basket-car are some things i would like to keep with me. i wish you would go and fetch my satchel, two lanterns, and a can of kerosene oil that is under the seat. there is nothing else that i care about." so the boy went willingly upon the errand, and by the time he had returned dorothy was awake. then the three held a counsel to decide what they should do next, but could think of no way to better their condition. "i don't like these veg'table people," said the little girl. "they're cold and flabby, like cabbages, in spite of their prettiness." "i agree with you. it is because there is no warm blood in them," remarked the wizard. "and they have no hearts; so they can't love anyone--not even themselves," declared the boy. "the princess is lovely to look at," continued dorothy, thoughtfully; "but i don't care much for her, after all. if there was any other place to go, i'd like to go there." "but is there any other place?" asked the wizard. "i don't know," she answered. just then they heard the big voice of jim the cab-horse calling to them, and going to the doorway leading to the dome they found the princess and a throng of her people had entered the house of the sorcerer. so they went down to greet the beautiful vegetable lady, who said to them: "i have been talking with my advisors about you meat people, and we have decided that you do not belong in the land of the mangaboos and must not remain here." "how can we go away?" asked dorothy. "oh, you cannot go away, of course; so you must be destroyed," was the answer. "in what way?" enquired the wizard. "we shall throw you three people into the garden of the twining vines," said the princess, "and they will soon crush you and devour your bodies to make themselves grow bigger. the animals you have with you we will drive to the mountains and put into the black pit. then our country will be rid of all its unwelcome visitors." "but you are in need of a sorcerer," said the wizard, "and not one of those growing is yet ripe enough to pick. i am greater than any thorn-covered sorcerer that every grew in your garden. why destroy me?" "it is true we need a sorcerer," acknowledged the princess, "but i am informed that one of our own will be ready to pick in a few days, to take the place of gwig, whom you cut in two before it was time for him to be planted. let us see your arts, and the sorceries you are able to perform. then i will decide whether to destroy you with the others or not." at this the wizard made a bow to the people and repeated his trick of producing the nine tiny piglets and making them disappear again. he did it very cleverly, indeed, and the princess looked at the strange piglets as if she were as truly astonished as any vegetable person could be. but afterward she said: "i have heard of this wonderful magic. but it accomplishes nothing of value. what else can you do?" the wizard tried to think. then he jointed together the blades of his sword and balanced it very skillfully upon the end of his nose. but even that did not satisfy the princess. just then his eye fell upon the lanterns and the can of kerosene oil which zeb had brought from the car of his balloon, and he got a clever idea from those commonplace things. "your highness," said he, "i will now proceed to prove my magic by creating two suns that you have never seen before; also i will exhibit a destroyer much more dreadful that your clinging vines." so he placed dorothy upon one side of him and the boy upon the other and set a lantern upon each of their heads. "don't laugh," he whispered to them, "or you will spoil the effect of my magic." then, with much dignity and a look of vast importance upon his wrinkled face, the wizard got out his match-box and lighted the two lanterns. the glare they made was very small when compared with the radiance of the six great colored suns; but still they gleamed steadily and clearly. the mangaboos were much impressed because they had never before seen any light that did not come directly from their suns. next the wizard poured a pool of oil from the can upon the glass floor, where it covered quite a broad surface. when he lighted the oil a hundred tongues of flame shot up, and the effect was really imposing. "now, princess," exclaimed the wizard, "those of your advisors who wished to throw us into the garden of clinging vines must step within this circle of light. if they advised you well, and were in the right, they will not be injured in any way. but if any advised you wrongly, the light will wither him." the advisors of the princess did not like this test; but she commanded them to step into the flame and one by one they did so, and were scorched so badly that the air was soon filled with an odor like that of baked potatoes. some of the mangaboos fell down and had to be dragged from the fire, and all were so withered that it would be necessary to plant them at once. "sir," said the princess to the wizard, "you are greater than any sorcerer we have ever known. as it is evident that my people have advised me wrongly, i will not cast you three people into the dreadful garden of the clinging vines; but your animals must be driven into the black pit in the mountain, for my subjects cannot bear to have them around." the wizard was so pleased to have saved the two children and himself that he said nothing against this decree; but when the princess had gone both jim and eureka protested they did not want to go to the black pit, and dorothy promised she would do all that she could to save them from such a fate. for two or three days after this--if we call days the periods between sleep, there being no night to divide the hours into days--our friends were not disturbed in any way. they were even permitted to occupy the house of the sorcerer in peace, as if it had been their own, and to wander in the gardens in search of food. once they came near to the enclosed garden of the clinging vines, and walking high into the air looked down upon it with much interest. they saw a mass of tough green vines all matted together and writhing and twisting around like a nest of great snakes. everything the vines touched they crushed, and our adventurers were indeed thankful to have escaped being cast among them. whenever the wizard went to sleep he would take the nine tiny piglets from his pocket and let them run around on the floor of his room to amuse themselves and get some exercise; and one time they found his glass door ajar and wandered into the hall and then into the bottom part of the great dome, walking through the air as easily as eureka could. they knew the kitten, by this time, so they scampered over to where she lay beside jim and commenced to frisk and play with her. the cab-horse, who never slept long at a time, sat upon his haunches and watched the tiny piglets and the kitten with much approval. "don't be rough!" he would call out, if eureka knocked over one of the round, fat piglets with her paw; but the pigs never minded, and enjoyed the sport very greatly. suddenly they looked up to find the room filled with the silent, solemn-eyed mangaboos. each of the vegetable folks bore a branch covered with sharp thorns, which was thrust defiantly toward the horse, the kitten and the piglets. "here--stop this foolishness!" jim roared, angrily; but after being pricked once or twice he got upon his four legs and kept out of the way of the thorns. the mangaboos surrounded them in solid ranks, but left an opening to the doorway of the hall; so the animals slowly retreated until they were driven from the room and out upon the street. here were more of the vegetable people with thorns, and silently they urged the now frightened creatures down the street. jim had to be careful not to step upon the tiny piglets, who scampered under his feet grunting and squealing, while eureka, snarling and biting at the thorns pushed toward her, also tried to protect the pretty little things from injury. slowly but steadily the heartless mangaboos drove them on, until they had passed through the city and the gardens and come to the broad plains leading to the mountain. "what does all this mean, anyhow?" asked the horse, jumping to escape a thorn. "why, they are driving us toward the black pit, into which they threatened to cast us," replied the kitten. "if i were as big as you are, jim, i'd fight these miserable turnip-roots!" "what would you do?" enquired jim. "i'd kick out with those long legs and iron-shod hoofs." "all right," said the horse; "i'll do it." an instant later he suddenly backed toward the crowd of mangaboos and kicked out his hind legs as hard as he could. a dozen of them smashed together and tumbled to the ground, and seeing his success jim kicked again and again, charging into the vegetable crowd, knocking them in all directions and sending the others scattering to escape his iron heels. eureka helped him by flying into the faces of the enemy and scratching and biting furiously, and the kitten ruined so many vegetable complexions that the mangaboos feared her as much as they did the horse. but the foes were too many to be repulsed for long. they tired jim and eureka out, and although the field of battle was thickly covered with mashed and disabled mangaboos, our animal friends had to give up at last and allow themselves to be driven to the mountain. . into the black pit and out again when they came to the mountain it proved to be a rugged, towering chunk of deep green glass, and looked dismal and forbidding in the extreme. half way up the steep was a yawning cave, black as night beyond the point where the rainbow rays of the colored suns reached into it. the mangaboos drove the horse and the kitten and the piglets into this dark hole and then, having pushed the buggy in after them--for it seemed some of them had dragged it all the way from the domed hall--they began to pile big glass rocks within the entrance, so that the prisoners could not get out again. "this is dreadful!" groaned jim. "it will be about the end of our adventures, i guess." "if the wizard was here," said one of the piglets, sobbing bitterly, "he would not see us suffer so." "we ought to have called him and dorothy when we were first attacked," added eureka. "but never mind; be brave, my friends, and i will go and tell our masters where you are, and get them to come to your rescue." the mouth of the hole was nearly filled up now, but the kitten gave a leap through the remaining opening and at once scampered up into the air. the mangaboos saw her escape, and several of them caught up their thorns and gave chase, mounting through the air after her. eureka, however, was lighter than the mangaboos, and while they could mount only about a hundred feet above the earth the kitten found she could go nearly two hundred feet. so she ran along over their heads until she had left them far behind and below and had come to the city and the house of the sorcerer. there she entered in at dorothy's window in the dome and aroused her from her sleep. as soon as the little girl knew what had happened she awakened the wizard and zeb, and at once preparations were made to go to the rescue of jim and the piglets. the wizard carried his satchel, which was quite heavy, and zeb carried the two lanterns and the oil can. dorothy's wicker suit-case was still under the seat of the buggy, and by good fortune the boy had also placed the harness in the buggy when he had taken it off from jim to let the horse lie down and rest. so there was nothing for the girl to carry but the kitten, which she held close to her bosom and tried to comfort, for its little heart was still beating rapidly. some of the mangaboos discovered them as soon as they left the house of the sorcerer; but when they started toward the mountain the vegetable people allowed them to proceed without interference, yet followed in a crowd behind them so that they could not go back again. before long they neared the black pit, where a busy swarm of mangaboos, headed by their princess, was engaged in piling up glass rocks before the entrance. "stop, i command you!" cried the wizard, in an angry tone, and at once began pulling down the rocks to liberate jim and the piglets. instead of opposing him in this they stood back in silence until he had made a good-sized hole in the barrier, when by order of the princess they all sprang forward and thrust out their sharp thorns. dorothy hopped inside the opening to escape being pricked, and zeb and the wizard, after enduring a few stabs from the thorns, were glad to follow her. at once the mangaboos began piling up the rocks of glass again, and as the little man realized that they were all about to be entombed in the mountain he said to the children: "my dears, what shall we do? jump out and fight?" "what's the use?" replied dorothy. "i'd as soon die here as live much longer among these cruel and heartless people." "that's the way i feel about it," remarked zeb, rubbing his wounds. "i've had enough of the mangaboos." "all right," said the wizard; "i'm with you, whatever you decide. but we can't live long in this cavern, that's certain." noticing that the light was growing dim he picked up his nine piglets, patted each one lovingly on its fat little head, and placed them carefully in his inside pocket. zeb struck a match and lighted one of the lanterns. the rays of the colored suns were now shut out from them forever, for the last chinks had been filled up in the wall that separated their prison from the land of the mangaboos. "how big is this hole?" asked dorothy. "i'll explore it and see," replied the boy. so he carried the lantern back for quite a distance, while dorothy and the wizard followed at his side. the cavern did not come to an end, as they had expected it would, but slanted upward through the great glass mountain, running in a direction that promised to lead them to the side opposite the mangaboo country. "it isn't a bad road," observed the wizard, "and if we followed it it might lead us to some place that is more comfortable than this black pocket we are now in. i suppose the vegetable folk were always afraid to enter this cavern because it is dark; but we have our lanterns to light the way, so i propose that we start out and discover where this tunnel in the mountain leads to." the others agreed readily to this sensible suggestion, and at once the boy began to harness jim to the buggy. when all was in readiness the three took their seats in the buggy and jim started cautiously along the way, zeb driving while the wizard and dorothy each held a lighted lantern so the horse could see where to go. sometimes the tunnel was so narrow that the wheels of the buggy grazed the sides; then it would broaden out as wide as a street; but the floor was usually smooth, and for a long time they travelled on without any accident. jim stopped sometimes to rest, for the climb was rather steep and tiresome. "we must be nearly as high as the six colored suns, by this time," said dorothy. "i didn't know this mountain was so tall." "we are certainly a good distance away from the land of the mangaboos," added zeb; "for we have slanted away from it ever since we started." but they kept steadily moving, and just as jim was about tired out with his long journey the way suddenly grew lighter, and zeb put out the lanterns to save the oil. to their joy they found it was a white light that now greeted them, for all were weary of the colored rainbow lights which, after a time, had made their eyes ache with their constantly shifting rays. the sides of the tunnel showed before them like the inside of a long spy-glass, and the floor became more level. jim hastened his lagging steps at this assurance of a quick relief from the dark passage, and in a few moments more they had emerged from the mountain and found themselves face to face with a new and charming country. . the valley of voices by journeying through the glass mountain they had reached a delightful valley that was shaped like the hollow of a great cup, with another rugged mountain showing on the other side of it, and soft and pretty green hills at the ends. it was all laid out into lovely lawns and gardens, with pebble paths leading through them and groves of beautiful and stately trees dotting the landscape here and there. there were orchards, too, bearing luscious fruits that are all unknown in our world. alluring brooks of crystal water flowed sparkling between their flower-strewn banks, while scattered over the valley were dozens of the quaintest and most picturesque cottages our travelers had ever beheld. none of them were in clusters, such as villages or towns, but each had ample grounds of its own, with orchards and gardens surrounding it. as the new arrivals gazed upon this exquisite scene they were enraptured by its beauties and the fragrance that permeated the soft air, which they breathed so gratefully after the confined atmosphere of the tunnel. several minutes were consumed in silent admiration before they noticed two very singular and unusual facts about this valley. one was that it was lighted from some unseen source; for no sun or moon was in the arched blue sky, although every object was flooded with a clear and perfect light. the second and even more singular fact was the absence of any inhabitant of this splendid place. from their elevated position they could overlook the entire valley, but not a single moving object could they see. all appeared mysteriously deserted. the mountain on this side was not glass, but made of a stone similar to granite. with some difficulty and danger jim drew the buggy over the loose rocks until he reached the green lawns below, where the paths and orchards and gardens began. the nearest cottage was still some distance away. "isn't it fine?" cried dorothy, in a joyous voice, as she sprang out of the buggy and let eureka run frolicking over the velvety grass. "yes, indeed!" answered zeb. "we were lucky to get away from those dreadful vegetable people." "it wouldn't be so bad," remarked the wizard, gazing around him, "if we were obliged to live here always. we couldn't find a prettier place, i'm sure." he took the piglets from his pocket and let them run on the grass, and jim tasted a mouthful of the green blades and declared he was very contented in his new surroundings. "we can't walk in the air here, though," called eureka, who had tried it and failed; but the others were satisfied to walk on the ground, and the wizard said they must be nearer the surface of the earth then they had been in the mangaboo country, for everything was more homelike and natural. "but where are the people?" asked dorothy. the little man shook his bald head. "can't imagine, my dear," he replied. they heard the sudden twittering of a bird, but could not find the creature anywhere. slowly they walked along the path toward the nearest cottage, the piglets racing and gambolling beside them and jim pausing at every step for another mouthful of grass. presently they came to a low plant which had broad, spreading leaves, in the center of which grew a single fruit about as large as a peach. the fruit was so daintily colored and so fragrant, and looked so appetizing and delicious that dorothy stopped and exclaimed: "what is it, do you s'pose?" the piglets had smelled the fruit quickly, and before the girl could reach out her hand to pluck it every one of the nine tiny ones had rushed in and commenced to devour it with great eagerness. "it's good, anyway," said zeb, "or those little rascals wouldn't have gobbled it up so greedily." "where are they?" asked dorothy, in astonishment. they all looked around, but the piglets had disappeared. "dear me!" cried the wizard; "they must have run away. but i didn't see them go; did you?" "no!" replied the boy and the girl, together. "here,--piggy, piggy, piggy!" called their master, anxiously. several squeals and grunts were instantly heard at his feet, but the wizard could not discover a single piglet. "where are you?" he asked. "why, right beside you," spoke a tiny voice. "can't you see us?" "no," answered the little man, in a puzzled tone. "we can see you," said another of the piglets. the wizard stooped down and put out his hand, and at once felt the small fat body of one of his pets. he picked it up, but could not see what he held. "it is very strange," said he, soberly. "the piglets have become invisible, in some curious way." "i'll bet it's because they ate that peach!" cried the kitten. "it wasn't a peach, eureka," said dorothy. "i only hope it wasn't poison." "it was fine, dorothy," called one of the piglets. "we'll eat all we can find of them," said another. "but we mus'n't eat them," the wizard warned the children, "or we too may become invisible, and lose each other. if we come across another of the strange fruit we must avoid it." calling the piglets to him he picked them all up, one by one, and put them away in his pocket; for although he could not see them he could feel them, and when he had buttoned his coat he knew they were safe for the present. the travellers now resumed their walk toward the cottage, which they presently reached. it was a pretty place, with vines growing thickly over the broad front porch. the door stood open and a table was set in the front room, with four chairs drawn up to it. on the table were plates, knives and forks, and dishes of bread, meat and fruits. the meat was smoking hot and the knives and forks were performing strange antics and jumping here and there in quite a puzzling way. but not a single person appeared to be in the room. "how funny!" exclaimed dorothy, who with zeb and the wizard now stood in the doorway. a peal of merry laughter answered her, and the knives and forks fell to the plates with a clatter. one of the chairs pushed back from the table, and this was so astonishing and mysterious that dorothy was almost tempted to run away in fright. "here are strangers, mama!" cried the shrill and childish voice of some unseen person. "so i see, my dear," answered another voice, soft and womanly. "what do you want?" demanded a third voice, in a stern, gruff accent. "well, well!" said the wizard; "are there really people in this room?" "of course," replied the man's voice. "and--pardon me for the foolish question--but, are you all invisible?" "surely," the woman answered, repeating her low, rippling laughter. "are you surprised that you are unable to see the people of voe?" "why, yes," stammered the wizard. "all the people i have ever met before were very plain to see." "where do you come from, then?" asked the woman, in a curious tone. "we belong upon the face of the earth," explained the wizard, "but recently, during an earthquake, we fell down a crack and landed in the country of the mangaboos." "dreadful creatures!" exclaimed the woman's voice. "i've heard of them." "they walled us up in a mountain," continued the wizard; "but we found there was a tunnel through to this side, so we came here. it is a beautiful place. what do you call it?" "it is the valley of voe." "thank you. we have seen no people since we arrived, so we came to this house to enquire our way." "are you hungry?" asked the woman's voice. "i could eat something," said dorothy. "so could i," added zeb. "but we do not wish to intrude, i assure you," the wizard hastened to say. "that's all right," returned the man's voice, more pleasantly than before. "you are welcome to what we have." as he spoke the voice came so near to zeb that he jumped back in alarm. two childish voices laughed merrily at this action, and dorothy was sure they were in no danger among such light-hearted folks, even if those folks couldn't be seen. "what curious animal is that which is eating the grass on my lawn?" enquired the man's voice. "that's jim," said the girl. "he's a horse." "what is he good for?" was the next question. "he draws the buggy you see fastened to him, and we ride in the buggy instead of walking," she explained. "can he fight?" asked the man's voice. "no! he can kick pretty hard with his heels, and bite a little; but jim can't 'zactly fight," she replied. "then the bears will get him," said one of the children's voices. "bears!" exclaimed dorothy. "are these bears here?" "that is the one evil of our country," answered the invisible man. "many large and fierce bears roam in the valley of voe, and when they can catch any of us they eat us up; but as they cannot see us, we seldom get caught." "are the bears invis'ble, too?" asked the girl. "yes; for they eat of the dama-fruit, as we all do, and that keeps them from being seen by any eye, whether human or animal." "does the dama-fruit grow on a low bush, and look something like a peach?" asked the wizard. "yes," was the reply. "if it makes you invis'ble, why do you eat it?" dorothy enquired. "for two reasons, my dear," the woman's voice answered. "the dama-fruit is the most delicious thing that grows, and when it makes us invisible the bears cannot find us to eat us up. but now, good wanderers, your luncheon is on the table, so please sit down and eat as much as you like." . they fight the invisible bears the strangers took their seats at the table willingly enough, for they were all hungry and the platters were now heaped with good things to eat. in front of each place was a plate bearing one of the delicious dama-fruit, and the perfume that rose from these was so enticing and sweet that they were sorely tempted to eat of them and become invisible. but dorothy satisfied her hunger with other things, and her companions did likewise, resisting the temptation. "why do you not eat the damas?" asked the woman's voice. "we don't want to get invis'ble," answered the girl. "but if you remain visible the bears will see you and devour you," said a girlish young voice, that belonged to one of the children. "we who live here much prefer to be invisible; for we can still hug and kiss one another, and are quite safe from the bears." "and we do not have to be so particular about our dress," remarked the man. "and mama can't tell whether my face is dirty or not!" added the other childish voice, gleefully. "but i make you wash it, every time i think of it," said the mother; "for it stands to reason your face is dirty, ianu, whether i can see it or not." dorothy laughed and stretched out her hands. "come here, please--ianu and your sister--and let me feel of you," she requested. they came to her willingly, and dorothy passed her hands over their faces and forms and decided one was a girl of about her own age and the other a boy somewhat smaller. the girl's hair was soft and fluffy and her skin as smooth as satin. when dorothy gently touched her nose and ears and lips they seemed to be well and delicately formed. "if i could see you i am sure you would be beautiful," she declared. the girl laughed, and her mother said: "we are not vain in the valley of voe, because we can not display our beauty, and good actions and pleasant ways are what make us lovely to our companions. yet we can see and appreciate the beauties of nature, the dainty flowers and trees, the green fields and the clear blue of the sky." "how about the birds and beasts and fishes?" asked zeb. "the birds we cannot see, because they love to eat of the damas as much as we do; yet we hear their sweet songs and enjoy them. neither can we see the cruel bears, for they also eat the fruit. but the fishes that swim in our brooks we can see, and often we catch them to eat." "it occurs to me you have a great deal to make you happy, even while invisible," remarked the wizard. "nevertheless, we prefer to remain visible while we are in your valley." just then eureka came in, for she had been until now wandering outside with jim; and when the kitten saw the table set with food she cried out: "now you must feed me, dorothy, for i'm half starved." the children were inclined to be frightened by the sight of the small animal, which reminded them of the bears; but dorothy reassured them by explaining that eureka was a pet and could do no harm even if she wished to. then, as the others had by this time moved away from the table, the kitten sprang upon the chair and put her paws upon the cloth to see what there was to eat. to her surprise an unseen hand clutched her and held her suspended in the air. eureka was frantic with terror, and tried to scratch and bite, so the next moment she was dropped to the floor. "did you see that, dorothy?" she gasped. "yes, dear," her mistress replied; "there are people living in this house, although we cannot see them. and you must have better manners, eureka, or something worse will happen to you." she placed a plate of food upon the floor and the kitten ate greedily. "give me that nice-smelling fruit i saw on the table," she begged, when she had cleaned the plate. "those are damas," said dorothy, "and you must never even taste them, eureka, or you'll get invis'ble, and then we can't see you at all." the kitten gazed wistfully at the forbidden fruit. "does it hurt to be invis'ble?" she asked. "i don't know," dorothy answered; "but it would hurt me dre'fully to lose you." "very well, i won't touch it," decided the kitten; "but you must keep it away from me, for the smell is very tempting." "can you tell us, sir or ma'am," said the wizard, addressing the air because he did not quite know where the unseen people stood, "if there is any way we can get out of your beautiful valley, and on top of the earth again." "oh, one can leave the valley easily enough," answered the man's voice; "but to do so you must enter a far less pleasant country. as for reaching the top of the earth, i have never heard that it is possible to do that, and if you succeeded in getting there you would probably fall off." "oh, no," said dorothy, "we've been there, and we know." "the valley of voe is certainly a charming place," resumed the wizard; "but we cannot be contented in any other land than our own, for long. even if we should come to unpleasant places on our way it is necessary, in order to reach the earth's surface, to keep moving on toward it." "in that case," said the man, "it will be best for you to cross our valley and mount the spiral staircase inside the pyramid mountain. the top of that mountain is lost in the clouds, and when you reach it you will be in the awful land of naught, where the gargoyles live." "what are gargoyles?" asked zeb. "i do not know, young sir. our greatest champion, overman-anu, once climbed the spiral stairway and fought nine days with the gargoyles before he could escape them and come back; but he could never be induced to describe the dreadful creatures, and soon afterward a bear caught him and ate him up." the wanders were rather discouraged by this gloomy report, but dorothy said with a sigh: "if the only way to get home is to meet the gurgles, then we've got to meet 'em. they can't be worse than the wicked witch or the nome king." "but you must remember you had the scarecrow and the tin woodman to help you conquer those enemies," suggested the wizard. "just now, my dear, there is not a single warrior in your company." "oh, i guess zeb could fight if he had to. couldn't you, zeb?" asked the little girl. "perhaps; if i had to," answered zeb, doubtfully. "and you have the jointed sword that you chopped the veg'table sorcerer in two with," the girl said to the little man. "true," he replied; "and in my satchel are other useful things to fight with." "what the gargoyles most dread is a noise," said the man's voice. "our champion told me that when he shouted his battle-cry the creatures shuddered and drew back, hesitating to continue the combat. but they were in great numbers, and the champion could not shout much because he had to save his breath for fighting." "very good," said the wizard; "we can all yell better than we can fight, so we ought to defeat the gargoyles." "but tell me," said dorothy, "how did such a brave champion happen to let the bears eat him? and if he was invis'ble, and the bears invis'ble, who knows that they really ate him up?" "the champion had killed eleven bears in his time," returned the unseen man; "and we know this is true because when any creature is dead the invisible charm of the dama-fruit ceases to be active, and the slain one can be plainly seen by all eyes. when the champion killed a bear everyone could see it; and when the bears killed the champion we all saw several pieces of him scattered about, which of course disappeared again when the bears devoured them." they now bade farewell to the kind but unseen people of the cottage, and after the man had called their attention to a high, pyramid-shaped mountain on the opposite side of the valley, and told them how to travel in order to reach it, they again started upon their journey. they followed the course of a broad stream and passed several more pretty cottages; but of course they saw no one, nor did any one speak to them. fruits and flowers grew plentifully all about, and there were many of the delicious damas that the people of voe were so fond of. about noon they stopped to allow jim to rest in the shade of a pretty orchard, and while they plucked and ate some of the cherries and plums that grew there a soft voice suddenly said to them: "there are bears near by. be careful." the wizard got out his sword at once, and zeb grabbed the horse-whip. dorothy climbed into the buggy, although jim had been unharnessed from it and was grazing some distance away. the owner of the unseen voice laughed lightly and said: "you cannot escape the bears that way." "how can we 'scape?" asked dorothy, nervously, for an unseen danger is always the hardest to face. "you must take to the river," was the reply. "the bears will not venture upon the water." "but we would be drowned!" exclaimed the girl. "oh, there is no need of that," said the voice, which from its gentle tones seemed to belong to a young girl. "you are strangers in the valley of voe, and do not seem to know our ways; so i will try to save you." the next moment a broad-leaved plant was jerked from the ground where it grew and held suspended in the air before the wizard. "sir," said the voice, "you must rub these leaves upon the soles of all your feet, and then you will be able to walk upon the water without sinking below the surface. it is a secret the bears do not know, and we people of voe usually walk upon the water when we travel, and so escape our enemies." "thank you!" cried the wizard, joyfully, and at once rubbed a leaf upon the soles of dorothy's shoes and then upon his own. the girl took a leaf and rubbed it upon the kitten's paws, and the rest of the plant was handed to zeb, who, after applying it to his own feet, carefully rubbed it upon all four of jim's hoofs and then upon the tires of the buggy-wheels. he had nearly finished this last task when a low growling was suddenly heard and the horse began to jump around and kick viciously with his heels. "quick! to the water or you are lost!" cried their unseen friend, and without hesitation the wizard drew the buggy down the bank and out upon the broad river, for dorothy was still seated in it with eureka in her arms. they did not sink at all, owing to the virtues of the strange plant they had used, and when the buggy was in the middle of the stream the wizard returned to the bank to assist zeb and jim. the horse was plunging madly about, and two or three deep gashes appeared upon its flanks, from which the blood flowed freely. "run for the river!" shouted the wizard, and jim quickly freed himself from his unseen tormenters by a few vicious kicks and then obeyed. as soon as he trotted out upon the surface of the river he found himself safe from pursuit, and zeb was already running across the water toward dorothy. as the little wizard turned to follow them he felt a hot breath against his cheek and heard a low, fierce growl. at once he began stabbing at the air with his sword, and he knew that he had struck some substance because when he drew back the blade it was dripping with blood. the third time that he thrust out the weapon there was a loud roar and a fall, and suddenly at his feet appeared the form of a great red bear, which was nearly as big as the horse and much stronger and fiercer. the beast was quite dead from the sword thrusts, and after a glance at its terrible claws and sharp teeth the little man turned in a panic and rushed out upon the water, for other menacing growls told him more bears were near. on the river, however, the adventurers seemed to be perfectly safe. dorothy and the buggy had floated slowly down stream with the current of the water, and the others made haste to join her. the wizard opened his satchel and got out some sticking-plaster with which he mended the cuts jim had received from the claws of the bears. "i think we'd better stick to the river, after this," said dorothy. "if our unknown friend hadn't warned us, and told us what to do, we would all be dead by this time." "that is true," agreed the wizard, "and as the river seems to be flowing in the direction of the pyramid mountain it will be the easiest way for us to travel." zeb hitched jim to the buggy again, and the horse trotted along and drew them rapidly over the smooth water. the kitten was at first dreadfully afraid of getting wet, but dorothy let her down and soon eureka was frisking along beside the buggy without being scared a bit. once a little fish swam too near the surface, and the kitten grabbed it in her mouth and ate it up as quick as a wink; but dorothy cautioned her to be careful what she ate in this valley of enchantments, and no more fishes were careless enough to swim within reach. after a journey of several hours they came to a point where the river curved, and they found they must cross a mile or so of the valley before they came to the pyramid mountain. there were few houses in this part, and few orchards or flowers; so our friends feared they might encounter more of the savage bears, which they had learned to dread with all their hearts. "you'll have to make a dash, jim," said the wizard, "and run as fast as you can go." "all right," answered the horse; "i'll do my best. but you must remember i'm old, and my dashing days are past and gone." all three got into the buggy and zeb picked up the reins, though jim needed no guidance of any sort. the horse was still smarting from the sharp claws of the invisible bears, and as soon as he was on land and headed toward the mountain the thought that more of those fearsome creatures might be near acted as a spur and sent him galloping along in a way that made dorothy catch her breath. then zeb, in a spirit of mischief, uttered a growl like that of the bears, and jim pricked up his ears and fairly flew. his boney legs moved so fast they could scarcely be seen, and the wizard clung fast to the seat and yelled "whoa!" at the top of his voice. "i--i'm 'fraid he's--he's running away!" gasped dorothy. "i know he is," said zeb; "but no bear can catch him if he keeps up that gait--and the harness or the buggy don't break." jim did not make a mile a minute; but almost before they were aware of it he drew up at the foot of the mountain, so suddenly that the wizard and zeb both sailed over the dashboard and landed in the soft grass--where they rolled over several times before they stopped. dorothy nearly went with them, but she was holding fast to the iron rail of the seat, and that saved her. she squeezed the kitten, though, until it screeched; and then the old cab-horse made several curious sounds that led the little girl to suspect he was laughing at them all. . the braided man of pyramid mountain the mountain before them was shaped like a cone and was so tall that its point was lost in the clouds. directly facing the place where jim had stopped was an arched opening leading to a broad stairway. the stairs were cut in the rock inside the mountain, and they were broad and not very steep, because they circled around like a cork-screw, and at the arched opening where the flight began the circle was quite big. at the foot of the stairs was a sign reading: warning. these steps lead to the land of the gargoyles. danger! keep out. "i wonder how jim is ever going to draw the buggy up so many stairs," said dorothy, gravely. "no trouble at all," declared the horse, with a contemptuous neigh. "still, i don't care to drag any passengers. you'll all have to walk." "suppose the stairs get steeper?" suggested zeb, doubtfully. "then you'll have to boost the buggy-wheels, that's all," answered jim. "we'll try it, anyway," said the wizard. "it's the only way to get out of the valley of voe." so they began to ascend the stairs, dorothy and the wizard first, jim next, drawing the buggy, and then zeb to watch that nothing happened to the harness. the light was dim, and soon they mounted into total darkness, so that the wizard was obliged to get out his lanterns to light the way. but this enabled them to proceed steadily until they came to a landing where there was a rift in the side of the mountain that let in both light and air. looking through this opening they could see the valley of voe lying far below them, the cottages seeming like toy houses from that distance. after resting a few moments they resumed their climb, and still the stairs were broad and low enough for jim to draw the buggy easily after him. the old horse panted a little, and had to stop often to get his breath. at such times they were all glad to wait for him, for continually climbing up stairs is sure to make one's legs ache. they wound about, always going upward, for some time. the lights from the lanterns dimly showed the way, but it was a gloomy journey, and they were pleased when a broad streak of light ahead assured them they were coming to a second landing. here one side of the mountain had a great hole in it, like the mouth of a cavern, and the stairs stopped at the near edge of the floor and commenced ascending again at the opposite edge. the opening in the mountain was on the side opposite to the valley of voe, and our travellers looked out upon a strange scene. below them was a vast space, at the bottom of which was a black sea with rolling billows, through which little tongues of flame constantly shot up. just above them, and almost on a level with their platform, were banks of rolling clouds which constantly shifted position and changed color. the blues and greys were very beautiful, and dorothy noticed that on the cloud banks sat or reclined fleecy, shadowy forms of beautiful beings who must have been the cloud fairies. mortals who stand upon the earth and look up at the sky cannot often distinguish these forms, but our friends were now so near to the clouds that they observed the dainty fairies very clearly. "are they real?" asked zeb, in an awed voice. "of course," replied dorothy, softly. "they are the cloud fairies." "they seem like open-work," remarked the boy, gazing intently. "if i should squeeze one, there wouldn't be anything left of it." in the open space between the clouds and the black, bubbling sea far beneath, could be seen an occasional strange bird winging its way swiftly through the air. these birds were of enormous size, and reminded zeb of the rocs he had read about in the arabian nights. they had fierce eyes and sharp talons and beaks, and the children hoped none of them would venture into the cavern. "well, i declare!" suddenly exclaimed the little wizard. "what in the world is this?" they turned around and found a man standing on the floor in the center of the cave, who bowed very politely when he saw he had attracted their attention. he was a very old man, bent nearly double; but the queerest thing about him was his white hair and beard. these were so long that they reached to his feet, and both the hair and the beard were carefully plaited into many braids, and the end of each braid fastened with a bow of colored ribbon. "where did you come from?" asked dorothy, wonderingly. "no place at all," answered the man with the braids; "that is, not recently. once i lived on top the earth, but for many years i have had my factory in this spot--half way up pyramid mountain." "are we only half way up?" enquired the boy, in a discouraged tone. "i believe so, my lad," replied the braided man. "but as i have never been in either direction, down or up, since i arrived, i cannot be positive whether it is exactly half way or not." "have you a factory in this place?" asked the wizard, who had been examining the strange personage carefully. "to be sure," said the other. "i am a great inventor, you must know, and i manufacture my products in this lonely spot." "what are your products?" enquired the wizard. "well, i make assorted flutters for flags and bunting, and a superior grade of rustles for ladies' silk gowns." "i thought so," said the wizard, with a sigh. "may we examine some of these articles?" "yes, indeed; come into my shop, please," and the braided man turned and led the way into a smaller cave, where he evidently lived. here, on a broad shelf, were several card-board boxes of various sizes, each tied with cotton cord. "this," said the man, taking up a box and handling it gently, "contains twelve dozen rustles--enough to last any lady a year. will you buy it, my dear?" he asked, addressing dorothy. "my gown isn't silk," she said, smiling. "never mind. when you open the box the rustles will escape, whether you are wearing a silk dress or not," said the man, seriously. then he picked up another box. "in this," he continued, "are many assorted flutters. they are invaluable to make flags flutter on a still day, when there is no wind. you, sir," turning to the wizard, "ought to have this assortment. once you have tried my goods i am sure you will never be without them." "i have no money with me," said the wizard, evasively. "i do not want money," returned the braided man, "for i could not spend it in this deserted place if i had it. but i would like very much a blue hair-ribbon. you will notice my braids are tied with yellow, pink, brown, red, green, white and black; but i have no blue ribbons." "i'll get you one!" cried dorothy, who was sorry for the poor man; so she ran back to the buggy and took from her suit-case a pretty blue ribbon. it did her good to see how the braided man's eyes sparkled when he received this treasure. "you have made me very, very happy, my dear!" he exclaimed; and then he insisted on the wizard taking the box of flutters and the little girl accepting the box of rustles. "you may need them, some time," he said, "and there is really no use in my manufacturing these things unless somebody uses them." "why did you leave the surface of the earth?" enquired the wizard. "i could not help it. it is a sad story, but if you will try to restrain your tears i will tell you about it. on earth i was a manufacturer of imported holes for american swiss cheese, and i will acknowledge that i supplied a superior article, which was in great demand. also i made pores for porous plasters and high-grade holes for doughnuts and buttons. finally i invented a new adjustable post-hole, which i thought would make my fortune. i manufactured a large quantity of these post-holes, and having no room in which to store them i set them all end to end and put the top one in the ground. that made an extraordinary long hole, as you may imagine, and reached far down into the earth; and, as i leaned over it to try to see to the bottom, i lost my balance and tumbled in. unfortunately, the hole led directly into the vast space you see outside this mountain; but i managed to catch a point of rock that projected from this cavern, and so saved myself from tumbling headlong into the black waves beneath, where the tongues of flame that dart out would certainly have consumed me. here, then, i made my home; and although it is a lonely place i amuse myself making rustles and flutters, and so get along very nicely." when the braided man had completed this strange tale dorothy nearly laughed, because it was all so absurd; but the wizard tapped his forehead significantly, to indicate that he thought the poor man was crazy. so they politely bade him good day, and went back to the outer cavern to resume their journey. . they meet the wooden gargoyles another breathless climb brought our adventurers to a third landing where there was a rift in the mountain. on peering out all they could see was rolling banks of clouds, so thick that they obscured all else. but the travellers were obliged to rest, and while they were sitting on the rocky floor the wizard felt in his pocket and brought out the nine tiny piglets. to his delight they were now plainly visible, which proved that they had passed beyond the influence of the magical valley of voe. "why, we can see each other again!" cried one, joyfully. "yes," sighed eureka; "and i also can see you again, and the sight makes me dreadfully hungry. please, mr. wizard, may i eat just one of the fat little piglets? you'd never miss one of them, i'm sure!" "what a horrid, savage beast!" exclaimed a piglet; "and after we've been such good friends, too, and played with one another!" "when i'm not hungry, i love to play with you all," said the kitten, demurely; "but when my stomach is empty it seems that nothing would fill it so nicely as a fat piglet." "and we trusted you so!" said another of the nine, reproachfully. "and thought you were respectable!" said another. "it seems we were mistaken," declared a third, looking at the kitten timorously, "no one with such murderous desires should belong to our party, i'm sure." "you see, eureka," remarked dorothy, reprovingly, "you are making yourself disliked. there are certain things proper for a kitten to eat; but i never heard of a kitten eating a pig, under any cir'stances." "did you ever see such little pigs before?" asked the kitten. "they are no bigger than mice, and i'm sure mice are proper for me to eat." "it isn't the bigness, dear; its the variety," replied the girl. "these are mr. wizard's pets, just as you are my pet, and it wouldn't be any more proper for you to eat them than it would be for jim to eat you." "and that's just what i shall do if you don't let those little balls of pork alone," said jim, glaring at the kitten with his round, big eyes. "if you injure any one of them i'll chew you up instantly." the kitten looked at the horse thoughtfully, as if trying to decide whether he meant it or not. "in that case," she said, "i'll leave them alone. you haven't many teeth left, jim, but the few you have are sharp enough to make me shudder. so the piglets will be perfectly safe, hereafter, as far as i am concerned." "that is right, eureka," remarked the wizard, earnestly. "let us all be a happy family and love one another." eureka yawned and stretched herself. "i've always loved the piglets," she said; "but they don't love me." "no one can love a person he's afraid of," asserted dorothy. "if you behave, and don't scare the little pigs, i'm sure they'll grow very fond of you." the wizard now put the nine tiny ones back into his pocket and the journey was resumed. "we must be pretty near the top, now," said the boy, as they climbed wearily up the dark, winding stairway. "the country of the gurgles can't be far from the top of the earth," remarked dorothy. "it isn't very nice down here. i'd like to get home again, i'm sure." no one replied to this, because they found they needed all their breath for the climb. the stairs had become narrower and zeb and the wizard often had to help jim pull the buggy from one step to another, or keep it from jamming against the rocky walls. at last, however, a dim light appeared ahead of them, which grew clearer and stronger as they advanced. "thank goodness we're nearly there!" panted the little wizard. jim, who was in advance, saw the last stair before him and stuck his head above the rocky sides of the stairway. then he halted, ducked down and began to back up, so that he nearly fell with the buggy onto the others. "let's go down again!" he said, in his hoarse voice. "nonsense!" snapped the tired wizard. "what's the matter with you, old man?" "everything," grumbled the horse. "i've taken a look at this place, and it's no fit country for real creatures to go to. everything's dead, up there--no flesh or blood or growing thing anywhere." "never mind; we can't turn back," said dorothy; "and we don't intend to stay there, anyhow." "it's dangerous," growled jim, in a stubborn tone. "see here, my good steed," broke in the wizard, "little dorothy and i have been in many queer countries in our travels, and always escaped without harm. we've even been to the marvelous land of oz--haven't we, dorothy?--so we don't much care what the country of the gargoyles is like. go ahead, jim, and whatever happens we'll make the best of it." "all right," answered the horse; "this is your excursion, and not mine; so if you get into trouble don't blame me." with this speech he bent forward and dragged the buggy up the remaining steps. the others followed and soon they were all standing upon a broad platform and gazing at the most curious and startling sight their eyes had ever beheld. "the country of the gargoyles is all wooden!" exclaimed zeb; and so it was. the ground was sawdust and the pebbles scattered around were hard knots from trees, worn smooth in course of time. there were odd wooden houses, with carved wooden flowers in the front yards. the tree-trunks were of coarse wood, but the leaves of the trees were shavings. the patches of grass were splinters of wood, and where neither grass nor sawdust showed was a solid wooden flooring. wooden birds fluttered among the trees and wooden cows were browsing upon the wooden grass; but the most amazing things of all were the wooden people--the creatures known as gargoyles. these were very numerous, for the place was thickly inhabited, and a large group of the queer people clustered near, gazing sharply upon the strangers who had emerged from the long spiral stairway. the gargoyles were very small of stature, being less than three feet in height. their bodies were round, their legs short and thick and their arms extraordinarily long and stout. their heads were too big for their bodies and their faces were decidedly ugly to look upon. some had long, curved noses and chins, small eyes and wide, grinning mouths. others had flat noses, protruding eyes, and ears that were shaped like those of an elephant. there were many types, indeed, scarcely two being alike; but all were equally disagreeable in appearance. the tops of their heads had no hair, but were carved into a variety of fantastic shapes, some having a row of points or balls around the top, others designs resembling flowers or vegetables, and still others having squares that looked like waffles cut criss-cross on their heads. they all wore short wooden wings which were fastened to their wooden bodies by means of wooden hinges with wooden screws, and with these wings they flew swiftly and noiselessly here and there, their legs being of little use to them. this noiseless motion was one of the most peculiar things about the gargoyles. they made no sounds at all, either in flying or trying to speak, and they conversed mainly by means of quick signals made with their wooden fingers or lips. neither was there any sound to be heard anywhere throughout the wooden country. the birds did not sing, nor did the cows moo; yet there was more than ordinary activity everywhere. the group of these queer creatures which was discovered clustered near the stairs at first remained staring and motionless, glaring with evil eyes at the intruders who had so suddenly appeared in their land. in turn the wizard and the children, the horse and the kitten, examined the gargoyles with the same silent attention. "there's going to be trouble, i'm sure," remarked the horse. "unhitch those tugs, zeb, and set me free from the buggy, so i can fight comfortably." "jim's right," sighed the wizard. "there's going to be trouble, and my sword isn't stout enough to cut up those wooden bodies--so i shall have to get out my revolvers." he got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to look at. "what harm can the gurgles do?" asked dorothy. "they have no weapons to hurt us with." "each of their arms is a wooden club," answered the little man, "and i'm sure the creatures mean mischief, by the looks of their eyes. even these revolvers can merely succeed in damaging a few of their wooden bodies, and after that we will be at their mercy." "but why fight at all, in that case?" asked the girl. "so i may die with a clear conscience," returned the wizard, gravely. "it's every man's duty to do the best he knows how; and i'm going to do it." "wish i had an axe," said zeb, who by now had unhitched the horse. "if we had known we were coming we might have brought along several other useful things," responded the wizard. "but we dropped into this adventure rather unexpectedly." the gargoyles had backed away a distance when they heard the sound of talking, for although our friends had spoken in low tones their words seemed loud in the silence surrounding them. but as soon as the conversation ceased, the grinning, ugly creatures arose in a flock and flew swiftly toward the strangers, their long arms stretched out before them like the bowsprits of a fleet of sail-boats. the horse had especially attracted their notice, because it was the biggest and strangest creature they had ever seen; so it became the center of their first attack. but jim was ready for them, and when he saw them coming he turned his heels toward them and began kicking out as hard as he could. crack! crash! bang! went his iron-shod hoofs against the wooden bodies of the gargoyles, and they were battered right and left with such force that they scattered like straws in the wind. but the noise and clatter seemed as dreadful to them as jim's heels, for all who were able swiftly turned and flew away to a great distance. the others picked themselves up from the ground one by one and quickly rejoined their fellows, so for a moment the horse thought he had won the fight with ease. but the wizard was not so confident. "those wooden things are impossible to hurt," he said, "and all the damage jim has done to them is to knock a few splinters from their noses and ears. that cannot make them look any uglier, i'm sure, and it is my opinion they will soon renew the attack." "what made them fly away?" asked dorothy. "the noise, of course. don't you remember how the champion escaped them by shouting his battle-cry?" "suppose we escape down the stairs, too," suggested the boy. "we have time, just now, and i'd rather face the invis'ble bears than those wooden imps." "no," returned dorothy, stoutly, "it won't do to go back, for then we would never get home. let's fight it out." "that is what i advise," said the wizard. "they haven't defeated us yet, and jim is worth a whole army." but the gargoyles were clever enough not to attack the horse the next time. they advanced in a great swarm, having been joined by many more of their kind, and they flew straight over jim's head to where the others were standing. the wizard raised one of his revolvers and fired into the throng of his enemies, and the shot resounded like a clap of thunder in that silent place. some of the wooden beings fell flat upon the ground, where they quivered and trembled in every limb; but most of them managed to wheel and escape again to a distance. zeb ran and picked up one of the gargoyles that lay nearest to him. the top of its head was carved into a crown and the wizard's bullet had struck it exactly in the left eye, which was a hard wooden knot. half of the bullet stuck in the wood and half stuck out, so it had been the jar and the sudden noise that had knocked the creature down, more than the fact that it was really hurt. before this crowned gargoyle had recovered himself zeb had wound a strap several times around its body, confining its wings and arms so that it could not move. then, having tied the wooden creature securely, the boy buckled the strap and tossed his prisoner into the buggy. by that time the others had all retired. . a wonderful escape for a while the enemy hesitated to renew the attack. then a few of them advanced until another shot from the wizard's revolver made them retreat. "that's fine," said zeb. "we've got 'em on the run now, sure enough." "but only for a time," replied the wizard, shaking his head gloomily. "these revolvers are good for six shots each, but when those are gone we shall be helpless." the gargoyles seemed to realize this, for they sent a few of their band time after time to attack the strangers and draw the fire from the little man's revolvers. in this way none of them was shocked by the dreadful report more than once, for the main band kept far away and each time a new company was sent into the battle. when the wizard had fired all of his twelve bullets he had caused no damage to the enemy except to stun a few by the noise, and so be as no nearer to victory than in the beginning of the fray. "what shall we do now?" asked dorothy, anxiously. "let's yell--all together," said zeb. "and fight at the same time," added the wizard. "we will get near jim, so that he can help us, and each one must take some weapon and do the best he can. i'll use my sword, although it isn't much account in this affair. dorothy must take her parasol and open it suddenly when the wooden folks attack her. i haven't anything for you, zeb." "i'll use the king," said the boy, and pulled his prisoner out of the buggy. the bound gargoyle's arms extended far out beyond its head, so by grasping its wrists zeb found the king made a very good club. the boy was strong for one of his years, having always worked upon a farm; so he was likely to prove more dangerous to the enemy than the wizard. when the next company of gargoyles advanced, our adventurers began yelling as if they had gone mad. even the kitten gave a dreadfully shrill scream and at the same time jim the cab-horse neighed loudly. this daunted the enemy for a time, but the defenders were soon out of breath. perceiving this, as well as the fact that there were no more of the awful "bangs" to come from the revolvers, the gargoyles advanced in a swarm as thick as bees, so that the air was filled with them. dorothy squatted upon the ground and put up her parasol, which nearly covered her and proved a great protection. the wizard's sword-blade snapped into a dozen pieces at the first blow he struck against the wooden people. zeb pounded away with the gargoyle he was using as a club until he had knocked down dozens of foes; but at the last they clustered so thickly about him that he no longer had room in which to swing his arms. the horse performed some wonderful kicking and even eureka assisted when she leaped bodily upon the gargoyles and scratched and bit at them like a wild-cat. but all this bravery amounted to nothing at all. the wooden things wound their long arms around zeb and the wizard and held them fast. dorothy was captured in the same way, and numbers of the gargoyles clung to jim's legs, so weighting him down that the poor beast was helpless. eureka made a desperate dash to escape and scampered along the ground like a streak; but a grinning gargoyle flew after her and grabbed her before she had gone very far. all of them expected nothing less than instant death; but to their surprise the wooden creatures flew into the air with them and bore them far away, over miles and miles of wooden country, until they came to a wooden city. the houses of this city had many corners, being square and six-sided and eight-sided. they were tower-like in shape and the best of them seemed old and weather-worn; yet all were strong and substantial. to one of these houses which had neither doors nor windows, but only one broad opening far up underneath the roof, the prisoners were brought by their captors. the gargoyles roughly pushed them into the opening, where there was a platform, and then flew away and left them. as they had no wings the strangers could not fly away, and if they jumped down from such a height they would surely be killed. the creatures had sense enough to reason that way, and the only mistake they made was in supposing the earth people were unable to overcome such ordinary difficulties. jim was brought with the others, although it took a good many gargoyles to carry the big beast through the air and land him on the high platform, and the buggy was thrust in after him because it belonged to the party and the wooden folks had no idea what it was used for or whether it was alive or not. when eureka's captor had thrown the kitten after the others the last gargoyle silently disappeared, leaving our friends to breathe freely once more. "what an awful fight!" said dorothy, catching her breath in little gasps. "oh, i don't know," purred eureka, smoothing her ruffled fur with her paw; "we didn't manage to hurt anybody, and nobody managed to hurt us." "thank goodness we are together again, even if we are prisoners," sighed the little girl. "i wonder why they didn't kill us on the spot," remarked zeb, who had lost his king in the struggle. "they are probably keeping us for some ceremony," the wizard answered, reflectively; "but there is no doubt they intend to kill us as dead as possible in a short time." "as dead as poss'ble would be pretty dead, wouldn't it?" asked dorothy. "yes, my dear. but we have no need to worry about that just now. let us examine our prison and see what it is like." the space underneath the roof, where they stood, permitted them to see on all sides of the tall building, and they looked with much curiosity at the city spread out beneath them. everything visible was made of wood, and the scene seemed stiff and extremely unnatural. from their platform a stair descended into the house, and the children and the wizard explored it after lighting a lantern to show them the way. several stories of empty rooms rewarded their search, but nothing more; so after a time they came back to the platform again. had there been any doors or windows in the lower rooms, or had not the boards of the house been so thick and stout, escape could have been easy; but to remain down below was like being in a cellar or the hold of a ship, and they did not like the darkness or the damp smell. in this country, as in all others they had visited underneath the earth's surface, there was no night, a constant and strong light coming from some unknown source. looking out, they could see into some of the houses near them, where there were open windows in abundance, and were able to mark the forms of the wooden gargoyles moving about in their dwellings. "this seems to be their time of rest," observed the wizard. "all people need rest, even if they are made of wood, and as there is no night here they select a certain time of the day in which to sleep or doze." "i feel sleepy myself," remarked zeb, yawning. "why, where's eureka?" cried dorothy, suddenly. they all looked around, but the kitten was no place to be seen. "she's gone out for a walk," said jim, gruffly. "where? on the roof?" asked the girl. "no; she just dug her claws into the wood and climbed down the sides of this house to the ground." "she couldn't climb down, jim," said dorothy. "to climb means to go up." "who said so?" demanded the horse. "my school-teacher said so; and she knows a lot, jim." "to 'climb down' is sometimes used as a figure of speech," remarked the wizard. "well, this was a figure of a cat," said jim, "and she went down, anyhow, whether she climbed or crept." "dear me! how careless eureka is," exclaimed the girl, much distressed. "the gurgles will get her, sure!" "ha, ha!" chuckled the old cab-horse; "they're not 'gurgles,' little maid; they're gargoyles." "never mind; they'll get eureka, whatever they're called." "no they won't," said the voice of the kitten, and eureka herself crawled over the edge of the platform and sat down quietly upon the floor. "wherever have you been, eureka?" asked dorothy, sternly. "watching the wooden folks. they're too funny for anything, dorothy. just now they are all going to bed, and--what do you think?--they unhook the hinges of their wings and put them in a corner until they wake up again." "what, the hinges?" "no; the wings." "that," said zeb, "explains why this house is used by them for a prison. if any of the gargoyles act badly, and have to be put in jail, they are brought here and their wings unhooked and taken away from them until they promise to be good." the wizard had listened intently to what eureka had said. "i wish we had some of those loose wings," he said. "could we fly with them?" asked dorothy. "i think so. if the gargoyles can unhook the wings then the power to fly lies in the wings themselves, and not in the wooden bodies of the people who wear them. so, if we had the wings, we could probably fly as well as they do--as least while we are in their country and under the spell of its magic." "but how would it help us to be able to fly?" questioned the girl. "come here," said the little man, and took her to one of the corners of the building. "do you see that big rock standing on the hillside yonder?" he continued, pointing with his finger. "yes; it's a good way off, but i can see it," she replied. "well, inside that rock, which reaches up into the clouds, is an archway very much like the one we entered when we climbed the spiral stairway from the valley of voe. i'll get my spy-glass, and then you can see it more plainly." he fetched a small but powerful telescope, which had been in his satchel, and by its aid the little girl clearly saw the opening. "where does it lead to?" she asked. "that i cannot tell," said the wizard; "but we cannot now be far below the earth's surface, and that entrance may lead to another stairway that will bring us on top of our world again, where we belong. so, if we had the wings, and could escape the gargoyles, we might fly to that rock and be saved." "i'll get you the wings," said zeb, who had thoughtfully listened to all this. "that is, if the kitten will show me where they are." "but how can you get down?" enquired the girl, wonderingly. for answer zeb began to unfasten jim's harness, strap by strap, and to buckle one piece to another until he had made a long leather strip that would reach to the ground. "i can climb down that, all right," he said. "no you can't," remarked jim, with a twinkle in his round eyes. "you may go down, but you can only climb up." "well, i'll climb up when i get back, then," said the boy, with a laugh. "now, eureka, you'll have to show me the way to those wings." "you must be very quiet," warned the kitten; "for if you make the least noise the gargoyles will wake up. they can hear a pin drop." "i'm not going to drop a pin," said zeb. he had fastened one end of the strap to a wheel of the buggy, and now he let the line dangle over the side of the house. "be careful," cautioned dorothy, earnestly. "i will," said the boy, and let himself slide over the edge. the girl and the wizard leaned over and watched zeb work his way carefully downward, hand over hand, until he stood upon the ground below. eureka clung with her claws to the wooden side of the house and let herself down easily. then together they crept away to enter the low doorway of a neighboring dwelling. the watchers waited in breathless suspense until the boy again appeared, his arms now full of the wooden wings. when he came to where the strap was hanging he tied the wings all in a bunch to the end of the line, and the wizard drew them up. then the line was let down again for zeb to climb up by. eureka quickly followed him, and soon they were all standing together upon the platform, with eight of the much prized wooden wings beside them. the boy was no longer sleepy, but full of energy and excitement. he put the harness together again and hitched jim to the buggy. then, with the wizard's help, he tried to fasten some of the wings to the old cab-horse. this was no easy task, because half of each one of the hinges of the wings was missing, it being still fastened to the body of the gargoyle who had used it. however, the wizard went once more to his satchel--which seemed to contain a surprising variety of odds and ends--and brought out a spool of strong wire, by means of which they managed to fasten four of the wings to jim's harness, two near his head and two near his tail. they were a bit wiggley, but secure enough if only the harness held together. the other four wings were then fastened to the buggy, two on each side, for the buggy must bear the weight of the children and the wizard as it flew through the air. these preparations had not consumed a great deal of time, but the sleeping gargoyles were beginning to wake up and move around, and soon some of them would be hunting for their missing wings. so the prisoners resolved to leave their prison at once. they mounted into the buggy, dorothy holding eureka safe in her lap. the girl sat in the middle of the seat, with zeb and the wizard on each side of her. when all was ready the boy shook the reins and said: "fly away, jim!" "which wings must i flop first?" asked the cab-horse, undecidedly. "flop them all together," suggested the wizard. "some of them are crooked," objected the horse. "never mind; we will steer with the wings on the buggy," said zeb. "just you light out and make for that rock, jim; and don't waste any time about it, either." so the horse gave a groan, flopped its four wings all together, and flew away from the platform. dorothy was a little anxious about the success of their trip, for the way jim arched his long neck and spread out his bony legs as he fluttered and floundered through the air was enough to make anybody nervous. he groaned, too, as if frightened, and the wings creaked dreadfully because the wizard had forgotten to oil them; but they kept fairly good time with the wings of the buggy, so that they made excellent progress from the start. the only thing that anyone could complain of with justice was the fact that they wobbled first up and then down, as if the road were rocky instead of being as smooth as the air could make it. the main point, however, was that they flew, and flew swiftly, if a bit unevenly, toward the rock for which they had headed. some of the gargoyles saw them, presently, and lost no time in collecting a band to pursue the escaping prisoners; so that when dorothy happened to look back she saw them coming in a great cloud that almost darkened the sky. . the den of the dragonettes our friends had a good start and were able to maintain it, for with their eight wings they could go just as fast as could the gargoyles. all the way to the great rock the wooden people followed them, and when jim finally alighted at the mouth of the cavern the pursuers were still some distance away. "but, i'm afraid they'll catch us yet," said dorothy, greatly excited. "no; we must stop them," declared the wizard. "quick zeb, help me pull off these wooden wings!" they tore off the wings, for which they had no further use, and the wizard piled them in a heap just outside the entrance to the cavern. then he poured over them all the kerosene oil that was left in his oil-can, and lighting a match set fire to the pile. the flames leaped up at once and the bonfire began to smoke and roar and crackle just as the great army of wooden gargoyles arrived. the creatures drew back at once, being filled with fear and horror; for such as dreadful thing as a fire they had never before known in all the history of their wooden land. inside the archway were several doors, leading to different rooms built into the mountain, and zeb and the wizard lifted these wooden doors from their hinges and tossed them all on the flames. "that will prove a barrier for some time to come," said the little man, smiling pleasantly all over his wrinkled face at the success of their stratagem. "perhaps the flames will set fire to all that miserable wooden country, and if it does the loss will be very small and the gargoyles never will be missed. but come, my children; let us explore the mountain and discover which way we must go in order to escape from this cavern, which is getting to be almost as hot as a bake-oven." to their disappointment there was within this mountain no regular flight of steps by means of which they could mount to the earth's surface. a sort of inclined tunnel led upward for a way, and they found the floor of it both rough and steep. then a sudden turn brought them to a narrow gallery where the buggy could not pass. this delayed and bothered them for a while, because they did not wish to leave the buggy behind them. it carried their baggage and was useful to ride in wherever there were good roads, and since it had accompanied them so far in their travels they felt it their duty to preserve it. so zeb and the wizard set to work and took off the wheels and the top, and then they put the buggy edgewise, so it would take up the smallest space. in this position they managed, with the aid of the patient cab-horse, to drag the vehicle through the narrow part of the passage. it was not a great distance, fortunately, and when the path grew broader they put the buggy together again and proceeded more comfortably. but the road was nothing more than a series of rifts or cracks in the mountain, and it went zig-zag in every direction, slanting first up and then down until they were puzzled as to whether they were any nearer to the top of the earth than when they had started, hours before. "anyhow," said dorothy, "we've 'scaped those awful gurgles, and that's one comfort!" "probably the gargoyles are still busy trying to put out the fire," returned the wizard. "but even if they succeeded in doing that it would be very difficult for them to fly amongst these rocks; so i am sure we need fear them no longer." once in a while they would come to a deep crack in the floor, which made the way quite dangerous; but there was still enough oil in the lanterns to give them light, and the cracks were not so wide but that they were able to jump over them. sometimes they had to climb over heaps of loose rock, where jim could scarcely drag the buggy. at such times dorothy, zeb and the wizard all pushed behind, and lifted the wheels over the roughest places; so they managed, by dint of hard work, to keep going. but the little party was both weary and discouraged when at last, on turning a sharp corner, the wanderers found themselves in a vast cave arching high over their heads and having a smooth, level floor. the cave was circular in shape, and all around its edge, near to the ground, appeared groups of dull yellow lights, two of them being always side by side. these were motionless at first, but soon began to flicker more brightly and to sway slowly from side to side and then up and down. "what sort of place is this?" asked the boy, trying to see more clearly through the gloom. "i cannot imagine, i'm sure," answered the wizard, also peering about. "woogh!" snarled eureka, arching her back until her hair stood straight on end; "it's den of alligators, or crocodiles, or some other dreadful creatures! don't you see their terrible eyes?" "eureka sees better in the dark than we can," whispered dorothy. "tell us, dear, what do the creatures look like?" she asked, addressing her pet. "i simply can't describe 'em," answered the kitten, shuddering. "their eyes are like pie-plates and their mouths like coal-scuttles. but their bodies don't seem very big." "where are they?" enquired the girl. "they are in little pockets all around the edge of this cavern. oh, dorothy--you can't imagine what horrid things they are! they're uglier than the gargoyles." "tut-tut! be careful how you criticise your neighbors," spoke a rasping voice near by. "as a matter of fact you are rather ugly-looking creatures yourselves, and i'm sure mother has often told us we were the loveliest and prettiest things in all the world." hearing these words our friends turned in the direction of the sound, and the wizard held his lanterns so that their light would flood one of the little pockets in the rock. "why, it's a dragon!" he exclaimed. "no," answered the owner of the big yellow eyes which were blinking at them so steadily; "you are wrong about that. we hope to grow to be dragons some day, but just now we're only dragonettes." "what's that?" asked dorothy, gazing fearfully at the great scaley head, the yawning mouth and the big eyes. "young dragons, of course; but we are not allowed to call ourselves real dragons until we get our full growth," was the reply. "the big dragons are very proud, and don't think children amount to much; but mother says that some day we will all be very powerful and important." "where is your mother?" asked the wizard, anxiously looking around. "she has gone up to the top of the earth to hunt for our dinner. if she has good luck she will bring us an elephant, or a brace of rhinoceri, or perhaps a few dozen people to stay our hunger." "oh; are you hungry?" enquired dorothy, drawing back. "very," said the dragonette, snapping its jaws. "and--and--do you eat people?" "to be sure, when we can get them. but they've been very scarce for a few years and we usually have to be content with elephants or buffaloes," answered the creature, in a regretful tone. "how old are you?" enquired zeb, who stared at the yellow eyes as if fascinated. "quite young, i grieve to say; and all of my brothers and sisters that you see here are practically my own age. if i remember rightly, we were sixty-six years old the day before yesterday." "but that isn't young!" cried dorothy, in amazement. "no?" drawled the dragonette; "it seems to me very babyish." "how old is your mother?" asked the girl. "mother's about two thousand years old; but she carelessly lost track of her age a few centuries ago and skipped several hundreds. she's a little fussy, you know, and afraid of growing old, being a widow and still in her prime." "i should think she would be," agreed dorothy. then, after a moment's thought, she asked: "are we friends or enemies? i mean, will you be good to us, or do you intend to eat us?" "as for that, we dragonettes would love to eat you, my child; but unfortunately mother has tied all our tails around the rocks at the back of our individual caves, so that we can not crawl out to get you. if you choose to come nearer we will make a mouthful of you in a wink; but unless you do you will remain quite safe." there was a regretful accent in the creature's voice, and at the words all the other dragonettes sighed dismally. dorothy felt relieved. presently she asked: "why did your mother tie your tails?" "oh, she is sometimes gone for several weeks on her hunting trips, and if we were not tied we would crawl all over the mountain and fight with each other and get into a lot of mischief. mother usually knows what she is about, but she made a mistake this time; for you are sure to escape us unless you come too near, and you probably won't do that." "no, indeed!" said the little girl. "we don't wish to be eaten by such awful beasts." "permit me to say," returned the dragonette, "that you are rather impolite to call us names, knowing that we cannot resent your insults. we consider ourselves very beautiful in appearance, for mother has told us so, and she knows. and we are of an excellent family and have a pedigree that i challenge any humans to equal, as it extends back about twenty thousand years, to the time of the famous green dragon of atlantis, who lived in a time when humans had not yet been created. can you match that pedigree, little girl?" "well," said dorothy, "i was born on a farm in kansas, and i guess that's being just as 'spectable and haughty as living in a cave with your tail tied to a rock. if it isn't i'll have to stand it, that's all." "tastes differ," murmured the dragonette, slowly drooping its scaley eyelids over its yellow eyes, until they looked like half-moons. being reassured by the fact that the creatures could not crawl out of their rock-pockets, the children and the wizard now took time to examine them more closely. the heads of the dragonettes were as big as barrels and covered with hard, greenish scales that glittered brightly under the light of the lanterns. their front legs, which grew just back of their heads, were also strong and big; but their bodies were smaller around than their heads, and dwindled away in a long line until their tails were slim as a shoe-string. dorothy thought, if it had taken them sixty-six years to grow to this size, that it would be fully a hundred years more before they could hope to call themselves dragons, and that seemed like a good while to wait to grow up. "it occurs to me," said the wizard, "that we ought to get out of this place before the mother dragon comes back." "don't hurry," called one of the dragonettes; "mother will be glad to meet you, i'm sure." "you may be right," replied the wizard, "but we're a little particular about associating with strangers. will you kindly tell us which way your mother went to get on top the earth?" "that is not a fair question to ask us," declared another dragonette. "for, if we told you truly, you might escape us altogether; and if we told you an untruth we would be naughty and deserve to be punished." "then," decided dorothy, "we must find our way out the best we can." they circled all around the cavern, keeping a good distance away from the blinking yellow eyes of the dragonettes, and presently discovered that there were two paths leading from the wall opposite to the place where they had entered. they selected one of these at a venture and hurried along it as fast as they could go, for they had no idea when the mother dragon would be back and were very anxious not to make her acquaintance. . ozma uses the magic belt for a considerable distance the way led straight upward in a gentle incline, and the wanderers made such good progress that they grew hopeful and eager, thinking they might see sunshine at any minute. but at length they came unexpectedly upon a huge rock that shut off the passage and blocked them from proceeding a single step farther. this rock was separate from the rest of the mountain and was in motion, turning slowly around and around as if upon a pivot. when first they came to it there was a solid wall before them; but presently it revolved until there was exposed a wide, smooth path across it to the other side. this appeared so unexpectedly that they were unprepared to take advantage of it at first, and allowed the rocky wall to swing around again before they had decided to pass over. but they knew now that there was a means of escape and so waited patiently until the path appeared for the second time. the children and the wizard rushed across the moving rock and sprang into the passage beyond, landing safely though a little out of breath. jim the cab-horse came last, and the rocky wall almost caught him; for just as he leaped to the floor of the further passage the wall swung across it and a loose stone that the buggy wheels knocked against fell into the narrow crack where the rock turned, and became wedged there. they heard a crunching, grinding sound, a loud snap, and the turn-table came to a stop with its broadest surface shutting off the path from which they had come. "never mind," said zeb, "we don't want to get back, anyhow." "i'm not so sure of that," returned dorothy. "the mother dragon may come down and catch us here." "it is possible," agreed the wizard, "if this proves to be the path she usually takes. but i have been examining this tunnel, and i do not see any signs of so large a beast having passed through it." "then we're all right," said the girl, "for if the dragon went the other way she can't poss'bly get to us now." "of course not, my dear. but there is another thing to consider. the mother dragon probably knows the road to the earth's surface, and if she went the other way then we have come the wrong way," said the wizard, thoughtfully. "dear me!" cried dorothy. "that would be unlucky, wouldn't it?" "very. unless this passage also leads to the top of the earth," said zeb. "for my part, if we manage to get out of here i'll be glad it isn't the way the dragon goes." "so will i," returned dorothy. "it's enough to have your pedigree flung in your face by those saucy dragonettes. no one knows what the mother might do." they now moved on again, creeping slowly up another steep incline. the lanterns were beginning to grow dim, and the wizard poured the remaining oil from one into the other, so that the one light would last longer. but their journey was almost over, for in a short time they reached a small cave from which there was no further outlet. they did not realize their ill fortune at first, for their hearts were gladdened by the sight of a ray of sunshine coming through a small crack in the roof of the cave, far overhead. that meant that their world--the real world--was not very far away, and that the succession of perilous adventures they had encountered had at last brought them near the earth's surface, which meant home to them. but when the adventurers looked more carefully around them they discovered that there were in a strong prison from which there was no hope of escape. "but we're almost on earth again," cried dorothy, "for there is the sun--the most beau'ful sun that shines!" and she pointed eagerly at the crack in the distant roof. "almost on earth isn't being there," said the kitten, in a discontented tone. "it wouldn't be possible for even me to get up to that crack--or through it if i got there." "it appears that the path ends here," announced the wizard, gloomily. "and there is no way to go back," added zeb, with a low whistle of perplexity. "i was sure it would come to this, in the end," remarked the old cab-horse. "folks don't fall into the middle of the earth and then get back again to tell of their adventures--not in real life. and the whole thing has been unnatural because that cat and i are both able to talk your language, and to understand the words you say." "and so can the nine tiny piglets," added eureka. "don't forget them, for i may have to eat them, after all." "i've heard animals talk before," said dorothy, "and no harm came of it." "were you ever before shut up in a cave, far under the earth, with no way of getting out?" enquired the horse, seriously. "no," answered dorothy. "but don't you lose heart, jim, for i'm sure this isn't the end of our story, by any means." the reference to the piglets reminded the wizard that his pets had not enjoyed much exercise lately, and must be tired of their prison in his pocket. so he sat down upon the floor of the cave, brought the piglets out one by one, and allowed them to run around as much as they pleased. "my dears," he said to them, "i'm afraid i've got you into a lot of trouble, and that you will never again be able to leave this gloomy cave." "what's wrong?" asked a piglet. "we've been in the dark quite a while, and you may as well explain what has happened." the wizard told them of the misfortune that had overtaken the wanderers. "well," said another piglet, "you are a wizard, are you not?" "i am," replied the little man. "then you can do a few wizzes and get us out of this hole," declared the tiny one, with much confidence. "i could if i happened to be a real wizard," returned the master sadly. "but i'm not, my piggy-wees; i'm a humbug wizard." "nonsense!" cried several of the piglets, together. "you can ask dorothy," said the little man, in an injured tone. "it's true enough," returned the girl, earnestly. "our friend oz is merely a humbug wizard, for he once proved it to me. he can do several very wonderful things--if he knows how. but he can't wiz a single thing if he hasn't the tools and machinery to work with." "thank you, my dear, for doing me justice," responded the wizard, gratefully. "to be accused of being a real wizard, when i'm not, is a slander i will not tamely submit to. but i am one of the greatest humbug wizards that ever lived, and you will realize this when we have all starved together and our bones are scattered over the floor of this lonely cave." "i don't believe we'll realize anything, when it comes to that," remarked dorothy, who had been deep in thought. "but i'm not going to scatter my bones just yet, because i need them, and you prob'ly need yours, too." "we are helpless to escape," sighed the wizard. "we may be helpless," answered dorothy, smiling at him, "but there are others who can do more than we can. cheer up, friends. i'm sure ozma will help us." "ozma!" exclaimed the wizard. "who is ozma?" "the girl that rules the marvelous land of oz," was the reply. "she's a friend of mine, for i met her in the land of ev, not long ago, and went to oz with her." "for the second time?" asked the wizard, with great interest. "yes. the first time i went to oz i found you there, ruling the emerald city. after you went up in a balloon, and escaped us, i got back to kansas by means of a pair of magical silver shoes." "i remember those shoes," said the little man, nodding. "they once belonged to the wicked witch. have you them here with you?" "no; i lost them somewhere in the air," explained the child. "but the second time i went to the land of oz i owned the nome king's magic belt, which is much more powerful than were the silver shoes." "where is that magic belt?" enquired the wizard, who had listened with great interest. "ozma has it; for its powers won't work in a common, ordinary country like the united states. anyone in a fairy country like the land of oz can do anything with it; so i left it with my friend the princess ozma, who used it to wish me in australia with uncle henry." "and were you?" asked zeb, astonished at what he heard. "of course; in just a jiffy. and ozma has an enchanted picture hanging in her room that shows her the exact scene where any of her friends may be, at any time she chooses. all she has to do is to say: 'i wonder what so-and-so is doing,' and at once the picture shows where her friend is and what the friend is doing. that's real magic, mr. wizard; isn't it? well, every day at four o'clock ozma has promised to look at me in that picture, and if i am in need of help i am to make her a certain sign and she will put on the nome king's magic belt and wish me to be with her in oz." "do you mean that princess ozma will see this cave in her enchanted picture, and see all of us here, and what we are doing?" demanded zeb. "of course; when it is four o'clock," she replied, with a laugh at his startled expression. "and when you make a sign she will bring you to her in the land of oz?" continued the boy. "that's it, exactly; by means of the magic belt." "then," said the wizard, "you will be saved, little dorothy; and i am very glad of it. the rest of us will die much more cheerfully when we know you have escaped our sad fate." "i won't die cheerfully!" protested the kitten. "there's nothing cheerful about dying that i could ever see, although they say a cat has nine lives, and so must die nine times." "have you ever died yet?" enquired the boy. "no, and i'm not anxious to begin," said eureka. "don't worry, dear," dorothy exclaimed, "i'll hold you in my arms, and take you with me." "take us, too!" cried the nine tiny piglets, all in one breath. "perhaps i can," answered dorothy. "i'll try." "couldn't you manage to hold me in your arms?" asked the cab-horse. dorothy laughed. "i'll do better than that," she promised, "for i can easily save you all, once i am myself in the land of oz." "how?" they asked. "by using the magic belt. all i need do is to wish you with me, and there you'll be--safe in the royal palace!" "good!" cried zeb. "i built that palace, and the emerald city, too," remarked the wizard, in a thoughtful tone, "and i'd like to see them again, for i was very happy among the munchkins and winkies and quadlings and gillikins." "who are they?" asked the boy. "the four nations that inhabit the land of oz," was the reply. "i wonder if they would treat me nicely if i went there again." "of course they would!" declared dorothy. "they are still proud of their former wizard, and often speak of you kindly." "do you happen to know whatever became of the tin woodman and the scarecrow?" he enquired. "they live in oz yet," said the girl, "and are very important people." "and the cowardly lion?" "oh, he lives there too, with his friend the hungry tiger; and billina is there, because she liked the place better than kansas, and wouldn't go with me to australia." "i'm afraid i don't know the hungry tiger and billina," said the wizard, shaking his head. "is billina a girl?" "no; she's a yellow hen, and a great friend of mine. you're sure to like billina, when you know her," asserted dorothy. "your friends sound like a menagerie," remarked zeb, uneasily. "couldn't you wish me in some safer place than oz." "don't worry," replied the girl. "you'll just love the folks in oz, when you get acquainted. what time is it, mr. wizard?" the little man looked at his watch--a big silver one that he carried in his vest pocket. "half-past three," he said. "then we must wait for half an hour," she continued; "but it won't take long, after that, to carry us all to the emerald city." they sat silently thinking for a time. then jim suddenly asked: "are there any horses in oz?" "only one," replied dorothy, "and he's a sawhorse." "a what?" "a sawhorse. princess ozma once brought him to life with a witch-powder, when she was a boy." "was ozma once a boy?" asked zeb, wonderingly. "yes; a wicked witch enchanted her, so she could not rule her kingdom. but she's a girl now, and the sweetest, loveliest girl in all the world." "a sawhorse is a thing they saw boards on," remarked jim, with a sniff. "it is when it's not alive," acknowledged the girl. "but this sawhorse can trot as fast as you can, jim; and he's very wise, too." "pah! i'll race the miserable wooden donkey any day in the week!" cried the cab-horse. dorothy did not reply to that. she felt that jim would know more about the saw-horse later on. the time dragged wearily enough to the eager watchers, but finally the wizard announced that four o'clock had arrived, and dorothy caught up the kitten and began to make the signal that had been agreed upon to the far-away invisible ozma. "nothing seems to happen," said zeb, doubtfully. "oh, we must give ozma time to put on the magic belt," replied the girl. she had scarcely spoken the words then she suddenly disappeared from the cave, and with her went the kitten. there had been no sound of any kind and no warning. one moment dorothy sat beside them with the kitten in her lap, and a moment later the horse, the piglets, the wizard and the boy were all that remained in the underground prison. "i believe we will soon follow her," announced the wizard, in a tone of great relief; "for i know something about the magic of the fairyland that is called the land of oz. let us be ready, for we may be sent for any minute." he put the piglets safely away in his pocket again and then he and zeb got into the buggy and sat expectantly upon the seat. "will it hurt?" asked the boy, in a voice that trembled a little. "not at all," replied the wizard. "it will all happen as quick as a wink." and that was the way it did happen. the cab-horse gave a nervous start and zeb began to rub his eyes to make sure he was not asleep. for they were in the streets of a beautiful emerald-green city, bathed in a grateful green light that was especially pleasing to their eyes, and surrounded by merry faced people in gorgeous green-and-gold costumes of many extraordinary designs. before them were the jewel-studded gates of a magnificent palace, and now the gates opened slowly as if inviting them to enter the courtyard, where splendid flowers were blooming and pretty fountains shot their silvery sprays into the air. zeb shook the reins to rouse the cab-horse from his stupor of amazement, for the people were beginning to gather around and stare at the strangers. "gid-dap!" cried the boy, and at the word jim slowly trotted into the courtyard and drew the buggy along the jewelled driveway to the great entrance of the royal palace. . old friends are reunited many servants dressed in handsome uniforms stood ready to welcome the new arrivals, and when the wizard got out of the buggy a pretty girl in a green gown cried out in surprise: "why, it's oz, the wonderful wizard, come back again!" the little man looked at her closely and then took both the maiden's hands in his and shook them cordially. "on my word," he exclaimed, "it's little jellia jamb--as pert and pretty as ever!" "why not, mr. wizard?" asked jellia, bowing low. "but i'm afraid you cannot rule the emerald city, as you used to, because we now have a beautiful princess whom everyone loves dearly." "and the people will not willingly part with her," added a tall soldier in a captain-general's uniform. the wizard turned to look at him. "did you not wear green whiskers at one time?" he asked. "yes," said the soldier; "but i shaved them off long ago, and since then i have risen from a private to be the chief general of the royal armies." "that's nice," said the little man. "but i assure you, my good people, that i do not wish to rule the emerald city," he added, earnestly. "in that case you are very welcome!" cried all the servants, and it pleased the wizard to note the respect with which the royal retainers bowed before him. his fame had not been forgotten in the land of oz, by any means. "where is dorothy?" enquired zeb, anxiously, as he left the buggy and stood beside his friend the little wizard. "she is with the princess ozma, in the private rooms of the palace," replied jellia jamb. "but she has ordered me to make you welcome and to show you to your apartments." the boy looked around him with wondering eyes. such magnificence and wealth as was displayed in this palace was more than he had ever dreamed of, and he could scarcely believe that all the gorgeous glitter was real and not tinsel. "what's to become of me?" asked the horse, uneasily. he had seen considerable of life in the cities in his younger days, and knew that this regal palace was no place for him. it perplexed even jellia jamb, for a time, to know what to do with the animal. the green maiden was much astonished at the sight of so unusual a creature, for horses were unknown in this land; but those who lived in the emerald city were apt to be astonished by queer sights, so after inspecting the cab-horse and noting the mild look in his big eyes the girl decided not to be afraid of him. "there are no stables here," said the wizard, "unless some have been built since i went away." "we have never needed them before," answered jellia; "for the sawhorse lives in a room of the palace, being much smaller and more natural in appearance than this great beast you have brought with you." "do you mean that i'm a freak?" asked jim, angrily. "oh, no," she hastened to say, "there may be many more like you in the place you came from, but in oz any horse but a sawhorse is unusual." this mollified jim a little, and after some thought the green maiden decided to give the cab-horse a room in the palace, such a big building having many rooms that were seldom in use. so zeb unharnessed jim, and several of the servants then led the horse around to the rear, where they selected a nice large apartment that he could have all to himself. then jellia said to the wizard: "your own room--which was back of the great throne room--has been vacant ever since you left us. would you like it again?" "yes, indeed!" returned the little man. "it will seem like being at home again, for i lived in that room for many, many years." he knew the way to it, and a servant followed him, carrying his satchel. zeb was also escorted to a room--so grand and beautiful that he almost feared to sit in the chairs or lie upon the bed, lest he might dim their splendor. in the closets he discovered many fancy costumes of rich velvets and brocades, and one of the attendants told him to dress himself in any of the clothes that pleased him and to be prepared to dine with the princess and dorothy in an hour's time. opening from the chamber was a fine bathroom having a marble tub with perfumed water; so the boy, still dazed by the novelty of his surroundings, indulged in a good bath and then selected a maroon velvet costume with silver buttons to replace his own soiled and much worn clothing. there were silk stockings and soft leather slippers with diamond buckles to accompany his new costume, and when he was fully dressed zeb looked much more dignified and imposing than ever before in his life. he was all ready when an attendant came to escort him to the presence of the princess; he followed bashfully and was ushered into a room more dainty and attractive than it was splendid. here he found dorothy seated beside a young girl so marvelously beautiful that the boy stopped suddenly with a gasp of admiration. but dorothy sprang up and ran to seize her friend's hand drawing him impulsively toward the lovely princess, who smiled most graciously upon her guest. then the wizard entered, and his presence relieved the boy's embarrassment. the little man was clothed in black velvet, with many sparkling emerald ornaments decorating his breast; but his bald head and wrinkled features made him appear more amusing than impressive. ozma had been quite curious to meet the famous man who had built the emerald city and united the munchkins, gillikins, quadlings and winkies into one people; so when they were all four seated at the dinner table the princess said: "please tell me, mr. wizard, whether you called yourself oz after this great country, or whether you believe my country is called oz after you. it is a matter that i have long wished to enquire about, because you are of a strange race and my own name is ozma. no, one, i am sure, is better able to explain this mystery than you." "that is true," answered the little wizard; "therefore it will give me pleasure to explain my connection with your country. in the first place, i must tell you that i was born in omaha, and my father, who was a politician, named me oscar zoroaster phadrig isaac norman henkle emmannuel ambroise diggs, diggs being the last name because he could think of no more to go before it. taken altogether, it was a dreadfully long name to weigh down a poor innocent child, and one of the hardest lessons i ever learned was to remember my own name. when i grew up i just called myself o. z., because the other initials were p-i-n-h-e-a-d; and that spelled 'pinhead,' which was a reflection on my intelligence." "surely no one could blame you for cutting your name short," said ozma, sympathetically. "but didn't you cut it almost too short?" "perhaps so," replied the wizard. "when a young man i ran away from home and joined a circus. i used to call myself a wizard, and do tricks of ventriloquism." "what does that mean?" asked the princess. "throwing my voice into any object i pleased, to make it appear that the object was speaking instead of me. also i began to make balloon ascensions. on my balloon and on all the other articles i used in the circus i painted the two initials: 'o. z.', to show that those things belonged to me. "one day my balloon ran away with me and brought me across the deserts to this beautiful country. when the people saw me come from the sky they naturally thought me some superior creature, and bowed down before me. i told them i was a wizard, and showed them some easy tricks that amazed them; and when they saw the initials painted on the balloon they called me oz." "now i begin to understand," said the princess, smiling. "at that time," continued the wizard, busily eating his soup while talking, "there were four separate countries in this land, each one of the four being ruled by a witch. but the people thought my power was greater than that of the witches; and perhaps the witches thought so too, for they never dared oppose me. i ordered the emerald city to be built just where the four countries cornered together, and when it was completed i announced myself the ruler of the land of oz, which included all the four countries of the munchkins, the gillikins, the winkies and the quadlings. over this land i ruled in peace for many years, until i grew old and longed to see my native city once again. so when dorothy was first blown to this place by a cyclone i arranged to go away with her in a balloon; but the balloon escaped too soon and carried me back alone. after many adventures i reached omaha, only to find that all my old friends were dead or had moved away. so, having nothing else to do, i joined a circus again, and made my balloon ascensions until the earthquake caught me." "that is quite a history," said ozma; "but there is a little more history about the land of oz that you do not seem to understand--perhaps for the reason that no one ever told it you. many years before you came here this land was united under one ruler, as it is now, and the ruler's name was always 'oz,' which means in our language 'great and good'; or, if the ruler happened to be a woman, her name was always 'ozma.' but once upon a time four witches leagued together to depose the king and rule the four parts of the kingdom themselves; so when the ruler, my grandfather, was hunting one day, one wicked witch named mombi stole him and carried him away, keeping him a close prisoner. then the witches divided up the kingdom, and ruled the four parts of it until you came here. that was why the people were so glad to see you, and why they thought from your initials that you were their rightful ruler." "but, at that time," said the wizard, thoughtfully, "there were two good witches and two wicked witches ruling in the land." "yes," replied ozma, "because a good witch had conquered mombi in the north and glinda the good had conquered the evil witch in the south. but mombi was still my grandfather's jailor, and afterward my father's jailor. when i was born she transformed me into a boy, hoping that no one would ever recognize me and know that i was the rightful princess of the land of oz. but i escaped from her and am now the ruler of my people." "i am very glad of that," said the wizard, "and hope you will consider me one of your most faithful and devoted subjects." "we owe a great deal to the wonderful wizard," continued the princess, "for it was you who built this splendid emerald city." "your people built it," he answered. "i only bossed the job, as we say in omaha." "but you ruled it wisely and well for many years," said she, "and made the people proud of your magical art. so, as you are now too old to wander abroad and work in a circus, i offer you a home here as long as you live. you shall be the official wizard of my kingdom, and be treated with every respect and consideration." "i accept your kind offer with gratitude, gracious princess," the little man said, in a soft voice, and they could all see that tear-drops were standing in his keen old eyes. it meant a good deal to him to secure a home like this. "he's only a humbug wizard, though," said dorothy, smiling at him. "and that is the safest kind of a wizard to have," replied ozma, promptly. "oz can do some good tricks, humbug or no humbug," announced zeb, who was now feeling more at ease. "he shall amuse us with his tricks tomorrow," said the princess. "i have sent messengers to summon all of dorothy's old friends to meet her and give her welcome, and they ought to arrive very soon, now." indeed, the dinner was no sooner finished than in rushed the scarecrow, to hug dorothy in his padded arms and tell her how glad he was to see her again. the wizard was also most heartily welcomed by the straw man, who was an important personage in the land of oz. "how are your brains?" enquired the little humbug, as he grasped the soft, stuffed hands of his old friend. "working finely," answered the scarecrow. "i'm very certain, oz, that you gave me the best brains in the world, for i can think with them day and night, when all other brains are fast asleep." "how long did you rule the emerald city, after i left here?" was the next question. "quite awhile, until i was conquered by a girl named general jinjur. but ozma soon conquered her, with the help of glinda the good, and after that i went to live with nick chopper, the tin woodman." just then a loud cackling was heard outside; and, when a servant threw open the door with a low bow, a yellow hen strutted in. dorothy sprang forward and caught the fluffy fowl in her arms, uttering at the same time a glad cry. "oh, billina!" she said; "how fat and sleek you've grown." "why shouldn't i?" asked the hen, in a sharp, clear voice. "i live on the fat of the land--don't i, ozma?" "you have everything you wish for," said the princess. around billina's neck was a string of beautiful pearls, and on her legs were bracelets of emeralds. she nestled herself comfortably in dorothy's lap until the kitten gave a snarl of jealous anger and leaped up with a sharp claw fiercely bared to strike billina a blow. but the little girl gave the angry kitten such a severe cuff that it jumped down again without daring to scratch. "how horrid of you, eureka!" cried dorothy. "is that the way to treat my friends?" "you have queer friends, seems to me," replied the kitten, in a surly tone. "seems to me the same way," said billina, scornfully, "if that beastly cat is one of them." "look here!" said dorothy, sternly. "i won't have any quarrelling in the land of oz, i can tell you! everybody lives in peace here, and loves everybody else; and unless you two, billina and eureka, make up and be friends, i'll take my magic belt and wish you both home again, immejitly. so, there!" they were both much frightened at the threat, and promised meekly to be good. but it was never noticed that they became very warm friends, for all of that. and now the tin woodman arrived, his body most beautifully nickle-plated, so that it shone splendidly in the brilliant light of the room. the tin woodman loved dorothy most tenderly, and welcomed with joy the return of the little old wizard. "sir," said he to the latter, "i never can thank you enough for the excellent heart you once gave me. it has made me many friends, i assure you, and it beats as kindly and lovingly today as it every did." "i'm glad to hear that," said the wizard. "i was afraid it would get moldy in that tin body of yours." "not at all," returned nick chopper. "it keeps finely, being preserved in my air-tight chest." zeb was a little shy when first introduced to these queer people; but they were so friendly and sincere that he soon grew to admire them very much, even finding some good qualities in the yellow hen. but he became nervous again when the next visitor was announced. "this," said princess ozma, "is my friend mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e., who assisted me one time when i was in great distress, and is now the dean of the royal college of athletic science." "ah," said the wizard; "i'm pleased to meet so distinguished a personage." "h. m.," said the woggle-bug, pompously, "means highly magnified; and t. e. means thoroughly educated. i am, in reality, a very big bug, and doubtless the most intelligent being in all this broad domain." "how well you disguise it," said the wizard. "but i don't doubt your word in the least." "nobody doubts it, sir," replied the woggle-bug, and drawing a book from its pocket the strange insect turned its back on the company and sat down in a corner to read. nobody minded this rudeness, which might have seemed more impolite in one less thoroughly educated; so they straightway forgot him and joined in a merry conversation that kept them well amused until bed-time arrived. . jim, the cab-horse jim the cab-horse found himself in possession of a large room with a green marble floor and carved marble wainscoting, which was so stately in its appearance that it would have awed anyone else. jim accepted it as a mere detail, and at his command the attendants gave his coat a good rubbing, combed his mane and tail, and washed his hoofs and fetlocks. then they told him dinner would be served directly and he replied that they could not serve it too quickly to suit his convenience. first they brought him a steaming bowl of soup, which the horse eyed in dismay. "take that stuff away!" he commanded. "do you take me for a salamander?" they obeyed at once, and next served a fine large turbot on a silver platter, with drawn gravy poured over it. "fish!" cried jim, with a sniff. "do you take me for a tom-cat? away with it!" the servants were a little discouraged, but soon they brought in a great tray containing two dozen nicely roasted quail on toast. "well, well!" said the horse, now thoroughly provoked. "do you take me for a weasel? how stupid and ignorant you are, in the land of oz, and what dreadful things you feed upon! is there nothing that is decent to eat in this palace?" the trembling servants sent for the royal steward, who came in haste and said: "what would your highness like for dinner?" "highness!" repeated jim, who was unused to such titles. "you are at least six feet high, and that is higher than any other animal in this country," said the steward. "well, my highness would like some oats," declared the horse. "oats? we have no whole oats," the steward replied, with much deference. "but there is any quantity of oatmeal, which we often cook for breakfast. oatmeal is a breakfast dish," added the steward, humbly. "i'll make it a dinner dish," said jim. "fetch it on, but don't cook it, as you value your life." you see, the respect shown the worn-out old cab-horse made him a little arrogant, and he forgot he was a guest, never having been treated otherwise than as a servant since the day he was born, until his arrival in the land of oz. but the royal attendants did not heed the animal's ill temper. they soon mixed a tub of oatmeal with a little water, and jim ate it with much relish. then the servants heaped a lot of rugs upon the floor and the old horse slept on the softest bed he had ever known in his life. in the morning, as soon as it was daylight, he resolved to take a walk and try to find some grass for breakfast; so he ambled calmly through the handsome arch of the doorway, turned the corner of the palace, wherein all seemed asleep, and came face to face with the sawhorse. jim stopped abruptly, being startled and amazed. the sawhorse stopped at the same time and stared at the other with its queer protruding eyes, which were mere knots in the log that formed its body. the legs of the sawhorse were four sticks driving into holes bored in the log; its tail was a small branch that had been left by accident and its mouth a place chopped in one end of the body which projected a little and served as a head. the ends of the wooden legs were shod with plates of solid gold, and the saddle of the princess ozma, which was of red leather set with sparkling diamonds, was strapped to the clumsy body. jim's eyes stuck out as much as those of the sawhorse, and he stared at the creature with his ears erect and his long head drawn back until it rested against his arched neck. in this comical position the two horses circled slowly around each other for a while, each being unable to realize what the singular thing might be which it now beheld for the first time. then jim exclaimed: "for goodness sake, what sort of a being are you?" "i'm a sawhorse," replied the other. "oh; i believe i've heard of you," said the cab-horse; "but you are unlike anything that i expected to see." "i do not doubt it," the sawhorse observed, with a tone of pride. "i am considered quite unusual." "you are, indeed. but a rickety wooden thing like you has no right to be alive." "i couldn't help it," returned the other, rather crestfallen. "ozma sprinkled me with a magic powder, and i just had to live. i know i'm not much account; but i'm the only horse in all the land of oz, so they treat me with great respect." "you, a horse!" "oh, not a real one, of course. there are no real horses here at all. but i'm a splendid imitation of one." jim gave an indignant neigh. "look at me!" he cried. "behold a real horse!" the wooden animal gave a start, and then examined the other intently. "is it possible that you are a real horse?" he murmured. "not only possible, but true," replied jim, who was gratified by the impression he had created. "it is proved by my fine points. for example, look at the long hairs on my tail, with which i can whisk away the flies." "the flies never trouble me," said the saw-horse. "and notice my great strong teeth, with which i nibble the grass." "it is not necessary for me to eat," observed the sawhorse. "also examine my broad chest, which enables me to draw deep, full breaths," said jim, proudly. "i have no need to breathe," returned the other. "no; you miss many pleasures," remarked the cab-horse, pityingly. "you do not know the relief of brushing away a fly that has bitten you, nor the delight of eating delicious food, nor the satisfaction of drawing a long breath of fresh, pure air. you may be an imitation of a horse, but you're a mighty poor one." "oh, i cannot hope ever to be like you," sighed the sawhorse. "but i am glad to meet a last a real horse. you are certainly the most beautiful creature i ever beheld." this praise won jim completely. to be called beautiful was a novelty in his experience. said he: "your chief fault, my friend, is in being made of wood, and that i suppose you cannot help. real horses, like myself, are made of flesh and blood and bones." "i can see the bones all right," replied the sawhorse, "and they are admirable and distinct. also i can see the flesh. but the blood, i suppose is tucked away inside." "exactly," said jim. "what good is it?" asked the sawhorse. jim did not know, but he would not tell the sawhorse that. "if anything cuts me," he replied, "the blood runs out to show where i am cut. you, poor thing! cannot even bleed when you are hurt." "but i am never hurt," said the sawhorse. "once in a while i get broken up some, but i am easily repaired and put in good order again. and i never feel a break or a splinter in the least." jim was almost tempted to envy the wooden horse for being unable to feel pain; but the creature was so absurdly unnatural that he decided he would not change places with it under any circumstances. "how did you happen to be shod with gold?" he asked. "princess ozma did that," was the reply; "and it saves my legs from wearing out. we've had a good many adventures together, ozma and i, and she likes me." the cab-horse was about to reply when suddenly he gave a start and a neigh of terror and stood trembling like a leaf. for around the corner had come two enormous savage beasts, treading so lightly that they were upon him before he was aware of their presence. jim was in the act of plunging down the path to escape when the sawhorse cried out: "stop, my brother! stop, real horse! these are friends, and will do you no harm." jim hesitated, eyeing the beasts fearfully. one was an enormous lion with clear, intelligent eyes, a tawney mane bushy and well kept, and a body like yellow plush. the other was a great tiger with purple stripes around his lithe body, powerful limbs, and eyes that showed through the half closed lids like coals of fire. the huge forms of these monarchs of the forest and jungle were enough to strike terror to the stoutest heart, and it is no wonder jim was afraid to face them. but the sawhorse introduced the stranger in a calm tone, saying: "this, noble horse, is my friend the cowardly lion, who is the valiant king of the forest, but at the same time a faithful vassal of princess ozma. and this is the hungry tiger, the terror of the jungle, who longs to devour fat babies but is prevented by his conscience from doing so. these royal beasts are both warm friends of little dorothy and have come to the emerald city this morning to welcome her to our fairyland." hearing these words jim resolved to conquer his alarm. he bowed his head with as much dignity as he could muster toward the savage looking beasts, who in return nodded in a friendly way. "is not the real horse a beautiful animal?" asked the sawhorse admiringly. "that is doubtless a matter of taste," returned the lion. "in the forest he would be thought ungainly, because his face is stretched out and his neck is uselessly long. his joints, i notice, are swollen and overgrown, and he lacks flesh and is old in years." "and dreadfully tough," added the hungry tiger, in a sad voice. "my conscience would never permit me to eat so tough a morsel as the real horse." "i'm glad of that," said jim; "for i, also, have a conscience, and it tells me not to crush in your skull with a blow of my powerful hoof." if he thought to frighten the striped beast by such language he was mistaken. the tiger seemed to smile, and winked one eye slowly. "you have a good conscience, friend horse," it said, "and if you attend to its teachings it will do much to protect you from harm. some day i will let you try to crush in my skull, and afterward you will know more about tigers than you do now." "any friend of dorothy," remarked the cowardly lion, "must be our friend, as well. so let us cease this talk of skull crushing and converse upon more pleasant subjects. have you breakfasted, sir horse?" "not yet," replied jim. "but here is plenty of excellent clover, so if you will excuse me i will eat now." "he's a vegetarian," remarked the tiger, as the horse began to munch the clover. "if i could eat grass i would not need a conscience, for nothing could then tempt me to devour babies and lambs." just then dorothy, who had risen early and heard the voices of the animals, ran out to greet her old friends. she hugged both the lion and the tiger with eager delight, but seemed to love the king of beasts a little better than she did his hungry friend, having known him longer. by this time they had indulged in a good talk and dorothy had told them all about the awful earthquake and her recent adventures, the breakfast bell rang from the palace and the little girl went inside to join her human comrades. as she entered the great hall a voice called out, in a rather harsh tone: "what! are you here again?" "yes, i am," she answered, looking all around to see where the voice came from. "what brought you back?" was the next question, and dorothy's eye rested on an antlered head hanging on the wall just over the fireplace, and caught its lips in the act of moving. "good gracious!" she exclaimed. "i thought you were stuffed." "so i am," replied the head. "but once on a time i was part of the gump, which ozma sprinkled with the powder of life. i was then for a time the head of the finest flying machine that was ever known to exist, and we did many wonderful things. afterward the gump was taken apart and i was put back on this wall; but i can still talk when i feel in the mood, which is not often." "it's very strange," said the girl. "what were you when you were first alive?" "that i have forgotten," replied the gump's head, "and i do not think it is of much importance. but here comes ozma; so i'd better hush up, for the princess doesn't like me to chatter since she changed her name from tip to ozma." just then the girlish ruler of oz opened the door and greeted dorothy with a good-morning kiss. the little princess seemed fresh and rosy and in good spirits. "breakfast is served, dear," she said, "and i am hungry. so don't let us keep it waiting a single minute." . the nine tiny piglets after breakfast ozma announced that she had ordered a holiday to be observed throughout the emerald city, in honor of her visitors. the people had learned that their old wizard had returned to them and all were anxious to see him again, for he had always been a rare favorite. so first there was to be a grand procession through the streets, after which the little old man was requested to perform some of his wizardries in the great throne room of the palace. in the afternoon there were to be games and races. the procession was very imposing. first came the imperial cornet band of oz, dressed in emerald velvet uniforms with slashes of pea-green satin and buttons of immense cut emeralds. they played the national air called "the oz spangled banner," and behind them were the standard bearers with the royal flag. this flag was divided into four quarters, one being colored sky-blue, another pink, a third lavender and a fourth white. in the center was a large emerald-green star, and all over the four quarters were sewn spangles that glittered beautifully in the sunshine. the colors represented the four countries of oz, and the green star the emerald city. just behind the royal standard-bearers came the princess ozma in her royal chariot, which was of gold encrusted with emeralds and diamonds set in exquisite designs. the chariot was drawn on this occasion by the cowardly lion and the hungry tiger, who were decorated with immense pink and blue bows. in the chariot rode ozma and dorothy, the former in splendid raiment and wearing her royal coronet, while the little kansas girl wore around her waist the magic belt she had once captured from the nome king. following the chariot came the scarecrow mounted on the sawhorse, and the people cheered him almost as loudly as they did their lovely ruler. behind him stalked with regular, jerky steps, the famous machine-man called tik-tok, who had been wound up by dorothy for the occasion. tik-tok moved by clockwork, and was made all of burnished copper. he really belonged to the kansas girl, who had much respect for his thoughts after they had been properly wound and set going; but as the copper man would be useless in any place but a fairy country dorothy had left him in charge of ozma, who saw that he was suitably cared for. there followed another band after this, which was called the royal court band, because the members all lived in the palace. they wore white uniforms with real diamond buttons and played "what is oz without ozma" very sweetly. then came professor woggle-bug, with a group of students from the royal college of scientific athletics. the boys wore long hair and striped sweaters and yelled their college yell every other step they took, to the great satisfaction of the populace, which was glad to have this evidence that their lungs were in good condition. the brilliantly polished tin woodman marched next, at the head of the royal army of oz which consisted of twenty-eight officers, from generals down to captains. there were no privates in the army because all were so courageous and skillful that they had been promoted one by one until there were no privates left. jim and the buggy followed, the old cab-horse being driven by zeb while the wizard stood up on the seat and bowed his bald head right and left in answer to the cheers of the people, who crowded thick about him. taken altogether the procession was a grand success, and when it had returned to the palace the citizens crowded into the great throne room to see the wizard perform his tricks. the first thing the little humbug did was to produce a tiny white piglet from underneath his hat and pretend to pull it apart, making two. this act he repeated until all of the nine tiny piglets were visible, and they were so glad to get out of his pocket that they ran around in a very lively manner. the pretty little creatures would have been a novelty anywhere, so the people were as amazed and delighted at their appearance as even the wizard could have desired. when he had made them all disappear again ozma declared she was sorry they were gone, for she wanted one of them to pet and play with. so the wizard pretended to take one of the piglets out of the hair of the princess (while really he slyly took it from his inside pocket) and ozma smiled joyously as the creature nestled in her arms, and she promised to have an emerald collar made for its fat neck and to keep the little squealer always at hand to amuse her. afterward it was noticed that the wizard always performed his famous trick with eight piglets, but it seemed to please the people just as well as if there had been nine of them. in his little room back of the throne room the wizard had found a lot of things he had left behind him when he went away in the balloon, for no one had occupied the apartment in his absence. there was enough material there to enable him to prepare several new tricks which he had learned from some of the jugglers in the circus, and he had passed part of the night in getting them ready. so he followed the trick of the nine tiny piglets with several other wonderful feats that greatly delighted his audience and the people did not seem to care a bit whether the little man was a humbug wizard or not, so long as he succeeded in amusing them. they applauded all his tricks and at the end of the performance begged him earnestly not to go away again and leave them. "in that case," said the little man, gravely, "i will cancel all of my engagements before the crowned heads of europe and america and devote myself to the people of oz, for i love you all so well that i can deny you nothing." after the people had been dismissed with this promise our friends joined princess ozma at an elaborate luncheon in the palace, where even the tiger and the lion were sumptuously fed and jim the cab-horse ate his oatmeal out of a golden bowl with seven rows of rubies, sapphires and diamonds set around the rim of it. in the afternoon they all went to a great field outside the city gates where the games were to be held. there was a beautiful canopy for ozma and her guests to sit under and watch the people run races and jump and wrestle. you may be sure the folks of oz did their best with such a distinguished company watching them, and finally zeb offered to wrestle with a little munchkin who seemed to be the champion. in appearance he was twice as old as zeb, for he had long pointed whiskers and wore a peaked hat with little bells all around the brim of it, which tinkled gaily as he moved. but although the munchkin was hardly tall enough to come to zeb's shoulder he was so strong and clever that he laid the boy three times on his back with apparent ease. zeb was greatly astonished at his defeat, and when the pretty princess joined her people in laughing at him he proposed a boxing-match with the munchkin, to which the little ozite readily agreed. but the first time that zeb managed to give him a sharp box on the ears the munchkin sat down upon the ground and cried until the tears ran down his whiskers, because he had been hurt. this made zeb laugh, in turn, and the boy felt comforted to find that ozma laughed as merrily at her weeping subject as she had at him. just then the scarecrow proposed a race between the sawhorse and the cab-horse; and although all the others were delighted at the suggestion the sawhorse drew back, saying: "such a race would not be fair." "of course not," added jim, with a touch of scorn; "those little wooden legs of yours are not half as long as my own." "it isn't that," said the sawhorse, modestly; "but i never tire, and you do." "bah!" cried jim, looking with great disdain at the other; "do you imagine for an instant that such a shabby imitation of a horse as you are can run as fast as i?" "i don't know, i'm sure," replied the sawhorse. "that is what we are trying to find out," remarked the scarecrow. "the object of a race is to see who can win it--or at least that is what my excellent brains think." "once, when i was young," said jim, "i was a race horse, and defeated all who dared run against me. i was born in kentucky, you know, where all the best and most aristocratic horses come from." "but you're old, now, jim," suggested zeb. "old! why, i feel like a colt today," replied jim. "i only wish there was a real horse here for me to race with. i'd show the people a fine sight, i can tell you." "then why not race with the sawhorse?" enquired the scarecrow. "he's afraid," said jim. "oh, no," answered the sawhorse. "i merely said it wasn't fair. but if my friend the real horse is willing to undertake the race i am quite ready." so they unharnessed jim and took the saddle off the sawhorse, and the two queerly matched animals were stood side by side for the start. "when i say 'go!'" zeb called to them, "you must dig out and race until you reach those three trees you see over yonder. then circle 'round them and come back again. the first one that passes the place where the princess sits shall be named the winner. are you ready?" "i suppose i ought to give the wooden dummy a good start of me," growled jim. "never mind that," said the sawhorse. "i'll do the best i can." "go!" cried zeb; and at the word the two horses leaped forward and the race was begun. jim's big hoofs pounded away at a great rate, and although he did not look very graceful he ran in a way to do credit to his kentucky breeding. but the sawhorse was swifter than the wind. its wooden legs moved so fast that their twinkling could scarcely be seen, and although so much smaller than the cab-horse it covered the ground much faster. before they had reached the trees the sawhorse was far ahead, and the wooden animal returned to the starting place as was being lustily cheered by the ozites before jim came panting up to the canopy where the princess and her friends were seated. i am sorry to record the fact that jim was not only ashamed of his defeat but for a moment lost control of his temper. as he looked at the comical face of the sawhorse he imagined that the creature was laughing at him; so in a fit of unreasonable anger he turned around and made a vicious kick that sent his rival tumbling head over heels upon the ground, and broke off one of its legs and its left ear. an instant later the tiger crouched and launched its huge body through the air swift and resistless as a ball from a cannon. the beast struck jim full on his shoulder and sent the astonished cab-horse rolling over and over, amid shouts of delight from the spectators, who had been horrified by the ungracious act he had been guilty of. when jim came to himself and sat upon his haunches he found the cowardly lion crouched on one side of him and the hungry tiger on the other, and their eyes were glowing like balls of fire. "i beg your pardon, i'm sure," said jim, meekly. "i was wrong to kick the sawhorse, and i am sorry i became angry at him. he has won the race, and won it fairly; but what can a horse of flesh do against a tireless beast of wood?" hearing this apology the tiger and the lion stopped lashing their tails and retreated with dignified steps to the side of the princess. "no one must injure one of our friends in our presence," growled the lion; and zeb ran to jim and whispered that unless he controlled his temper in the future he would probably be torn to pieces. then the tin woodman cut a straight and strong limb from a tree with his gleaming axe and made a new leg and a new ear for the sawhorse; and when they had been securely fastened in place princess ozma took the coronet from her own head and placed it upon that of the winner of the race. said she: "my friend, i reward you for your swiftness by proclaiming you prince of horses, whether of wood or of flesh; and hereafter all other horses--in the land of oz, at least--must be considered imitations, and you the real champion of your race." there was more applause at this, and then ozma had the jewelled saddle replaced upon the sawhorse and herself rode the victor back to the city at the head of the grand procession. "i ought to be a fairy," grumbled jim, as he slowly drew the buggy home; "for to be just an ordinary horse in a fairy country is to be of no account whatever. it's no place for us, zeb." "it's lucky we got here, though," said the boy; and jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him. . the trial of eureka the kitten several days of festivity and merry-making followed, for such old friends did not often meet and there was much to be told and talked over between them, and many amusements to be enjoyed in this delightful country. ozma was happy to have dorothy beside her, for girls of her own age with whom it was proper for the princess to associate were very few, and often the youthful ruler of oz was lonely for lack of companionship. it was the third morning after dorothy's arrival, and she was sitting with ozma and their friends in a reception room, talking over old times, when the princess said to her maid: "please go to my boudoir, jellia, and get the white piglet i left on the dressing-table. i want to play with it." jellia at once departed on the errand, and she was gone so long that they had almost forgotten her mission when the green robed maiden returned with a troubled face. "the piglet is not there, your highness," said she. "not there!" exclaimed ozma. "are you sure?" "i have hunted in every part of the room," the maid replied. "was not the door closed?" asked the princess. "yes, your highness; i am sure it was; for when i opened it dorothy's white kitten crept out and ran up the stairs." hearing this, dorothy and the wizard exchanged startled glances, for they remembered how often eureka had longed to eat a piglet. the little girl jumped up at once. "come, ozma," she said, anxiously; "let us go ourselves to search for the piglet." so the two went to the dressing-room of the princess and searched carefully in every corner and among the vases and baskets and ornaments that stood about the pretty boudoir. but not a trace could they find of the tiny creature they sought. dorothy was nearly weeping, by this time, while ozma was angry and indignant. when they returned to the others the princess said: "there is little doubt that my pretty piglet has been eaten by that horrid kitten, and if that is true the offender must be punished." "i don't b'lieve eureka would do such a dreadful thing!" cried dorothy, much distressed. "go and get my kitten, please, jellia, and we'll hear what she has to say about it." the green maiden hastened away, but presently returned and said: "the kitten will not come. she threatened to scratch my eyes out if i touched her." "where is she?" asked dorothy. "under the bed in your own room," was the reply. so dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed. "come here, eureka!" she said. "i won't," answered the kitten, in a surly voice. "oh, eureka! why are you so bad?" the kitten did not reply. "if you don't come to me, right away," continued dorothy, getting provoked, "i'll take my magic belt and wish you in the country of the gurgles." "why do you want me?" asked eureka, disturbed by this threat. "you must go to princess ozma. she wants to talk to you." "all right," returned the kitten, creeping out. "i'm not afraid of ozma--or anyone else." dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence. "tell me, eureka," said the princess, gently: "did you eat my pretty piglet?" "i won't answer such a foolish question," asserted eureka, with a snarl. "oh, yes you will, dear," dorothy declared. "the piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when jellia opened the door. so, if you are innocent, eureka, you must tell the princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet." "who accuses me?" asked the kitten, defiantly. "no one," answered ozma. "your actions alone accuse you. the fact is that i left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it. when next the door was opened you ran out and hid yourself--and the piglet was gone." "that's none of my business," growled the kitten. "don't be impudent, eureka," admonished dorothy. "it is you who are impudent," said eureka, "for accusing me of such a crime when you can't prove it except by guessing." ozma was now greatly incensed by the kitten's conduct. she summoned her captain-general, and when the long, lean officer appeared she said: "carry this cat away to prison, and keep her in safe confinement until she is tried by law for the crime of murder." so the captain-general took eureka from the arms of the now weeping dorothy and in spite of the kitten's snarls and scratches carried it away to prison. "what shall we do now?" asked the scarecrow, with a sigh, for such a crime had cast a gloom over all the company. "i will summon the court to meet in the throne room at three o'clock," replied ozma. "i myself will be the judge, and the kitten shall have a fair trial." "what will happen if she is guilty?" asked dorothy. "she must die," answered the princess. "nine times?" enquired the scarecrow. "as many times as is necessary," was the reply. "i will ask the tin woodman to defend the prisoner, because he has such a kind heart i am sure he will do his best to save her. and the woggle-bug shall be the public accuser, because he is so learned that no one can deceive him." "who will be the jury?" asked the tin woodman. "there ought to be several animals on the jury," said ozma, "because animals understand each other better than we people understand them. so the jury shall consist of the cowardly lion, the hungry tiger, jim the cab-horse, the yellow hen, the scarecrow, the wizard, tik-tok the machine man, the sawhorse and zeb of hugson's ranch. that makes the nine which the law requires, and all my people shall be admitted to hear the testimony." they now separated to prepare for the sad ceremony; for whenever an appeal is made to law sorrow is almost certain to follow--even in a fairyland like oz. but is must be stated that the people of that land were generally so well-behaved that there was not a single lawyer amongst them, and it had been years since any ruler had sat in judgment upon an offender of the law. the crime of murder being the most dreadful crime of all, tremendous excitement prevailed in the emerald city when the news of eureka's arrest and trial became known. the wizard, when he returned to his own room, was exceedingly thoughtful. he had no doubt eureka had eaten his piglet, but he realized that a kitten cannot be depended upon at all times to act properly, since its nature is to destroy small animals and even birds for food, and the tame cat that we keep in our houses today is descended from the wild cat of the jungle--a very ferocious creature, indeed. the wizard knew that if dorothy's pet was found guilty and condemned to death the little girl would be made very unhappy; so, although he grieved over the piglet's sad fate as much as any of them, he resolved to save eureka's life. sending for the tin woodman the wizard took him into a corner and whispered: "my friend, it is your duty to defend the white kitten and try to save her, but i fear you will fail because eureka has long wished to eat a piglet, to my certain knowledge, and my opinion is that she has been unable to resist the temptation. yet her disgrace and death would not bring back the piglet, but only serve to make dorothy unhappy. so i intend to prove the kitten's innocence by a trick." he drew from his inside pocket one of the eight tiny piglets that were remaining and continued: "this creature you must hide in some safe place, and if the jury decides that eureka is guilty you may then produce this piglet and claim it is the one that was lost. all the piglets are exactly alike, so no one can dispute your word. this deception will save eureka's life, and then we may all be happy again." "i do not like to deceive my friends," replied the tin woodman; "still, my kind heart urges me to save eureka's life, and i can usually trust my heart to do the right thing. so i will do as you say, friend wizard." after some thought he placed the little pig inside his funnel-shaped hat, and then put the hat upon his head and went back to his room to think over his speech to the jury. . the wizard performs another trick at three o'clock the throne room was crowded with citizens, men, women and children being eager to witness the great trial. princess ozma, dressed in her most splendid robes of state, sat in the magnificent emerald throne, with her jewelled sceptre in her hand and her sparkling coronet upon her fair brow. behind her throne stood the twenty-eight officers of her army and many officials of the royal household. at her right sat the queerly assorted jury--animals, animated dummies and people--all gravely prepared to listen to what was said. the kitten had been placed in a large cage just before the throne, where she sat upon her haunches and gazed through the bars at the crowds around her, with seeming unconcern. and now, at a signal from ozma, the woggle-bug arose and addressed the jury. his tone was pompous and he strutted up and down in an absurd attempt to appear dignified. "your royal highness and fellow citizens," he began; "the small cat you see a prisoner before you is accused of the crime of first murdering and then eating our esteemed ruler's fat piglet--or else first eating and then murdering it. in either case a grave crime has been committed which deserves a grave punishment." "do you mean my kitten must be put in a grave?" asked dorothy. "don't interrupt, little girl," said the woggle-bug. "when i get my thoughts arranged in good order i do not like to have anything upset them or throw them into confusion." "if your thoughts were any good they wouldn't become confused," remarked the scarecrow, earnestly. "my thoughts are always--" "is this a trial of thoughts, or of kittens?" demanded the woggle-bug. "it's a trial of one kitten," replied the scarecrow; "but your manner is a trial to us all." "let the public accuser continue," called ozma from her throne, "and i pray you do not interrupt him." "the criminal who now sits before the court licking her paws," resumed the woggle-bug, "has long desired to unlawfully eat the fat piglet, which was no bigger than a mouse. and finally she made a wicked plan to satisfy her depraved appetite for pork. i can see her, in my mind's eye--" "what's that?" asked the scarecrow. "i say i can see her in my mind's eye--" "the mind has no eye," declared the scarecrow. "it's blind." "your highness," cried the woggle-bug, appealing to ozma, "have i a mind's eye, or haven't i?" "if you have, it is invisible," said the princess. "very true," returned the woggle-bug, bowing. "i say i see the criminal, in my mind's eye, creeping stealthily into the room of our ozma and secreting herself, when no one was looking, until the princess had gone away and the door was closed. then the murderer was alone with her helpless victim, the fat piglet, and i see her pounce upon the innocent creature and eat it up--" "are you still seeing with your mind's eye?" enquired the scarecrow. "of course; how else could i see it? and we know the thing is true, because since the time of that interview there is no piglet to be found anywhere." "i suppose, if the cat had been gone, instead of the piglet, your mind's eye would see the piglet eating the cat," suggested the scarecrow. "very likely," acknowledged the woggle-bug. "and now, fellow citizens and creatures of the jury, i assert that so awful a crime deserves death, and in the case of the ferocious criminal before you--who is now washing her face--the death penalty should be inflicted nine times." there was great applause when the speaker sat down. then the princess spoke in a stern voice: "prisoner, what have you to say for yourself? are you guilty, or not guilty?" "why, that's for you to find out," replied eureka. "if you can prove i'm guilty, i'll be willing to die nine times, but a mind's eye is no proof, because the woggle-bug has no mind to see with." "never mind, dear," said dorothy. then the tin woodman arose and said: "respected jury and dearly beloved ozma, i pray you not to judge this feline prisoner unfeelingly. i do not think the innocent kitten can be guilty, and surely it is unkind to accuse a luncheon of being a murder. eureka is the sweet pet of a lovely little girl whom we all admire, and gentleness and innocence are her chief virtues. look at the kitten's intelligent eyes;" (here eureka closed her eyes sleepily) "gaze at her smiling countenance!" (here eureka snarled and showed her teeth) "mark the tender pose of her soft, padded little hands!" (here eureka bared her sharp claws and scratched at the bars of the cage.) "would such a gentle animal be guilty of eating a fellow creature? no; a thousand times, no!" "oh, cut it short," said eureka; "you've talked long enough." "i'm trying to defend you," remonstrated the tin woodman. "then say something sensible," retorted the kitten. "tell them it would be foolish for me to eat the piglet, because i had sense enough to know it would raise a row if i did. but don't try to make out i'm too innocent to eat a fat piglet if i could do it and not be found out. i imagine it would taste mighty good." "perhaps it would, to those who eat," remarked the tin woodman. "i myself, not being built to eat, have no personal experience in such matters. but i remember that our great poet once said: 'to eat is sweet when hunger's seat demands a treat of savory meat.'" "take this into consideration, friends of the jury, and you will readily decide that the kitten is wrongfully accused and should be set at liberty." when the tin woodman sat down no one applauded him, for his arguments had not been very convincing and few believed that he had proved eureka's innocence. as for the jury, the members whispered to each other for a few minutes and then they appointed the hungry tiger their spokesman. the huge beast slowly arose and said: "kittens have no consciences, so they eat whatever pleases them. the jury believes the white kitten known as eureka is guilty of having eaten the piglet owned by princess ozma, and recommends that she be put to death in punishment of the crime." the judgment of the jury was received with great applause, although dorothy was sobbing miserably at the fate of her pet. the princess was just about to order eureka's head chopped off with the tin woodman's axe when that brilliant personage once more arose and addressed her. "your highness," said he, "see how easy it is for a jury to be mistaken. the kitten could not have eaten your piglet--for here it is!" he took off his funnel hat and from beneath it produced a tiny white piglet, which he held aloft that all might see it clearly. ozma was delighted and exclaimed, eagerly: "give me my pet, nick chopper!" and all the people cheered and clapped their hands, rejoicing that the prisoner had escaped death and been proved to be innocent. as the princess held the white piglet in her arms and stroked its soft hair she said: "let eureka out of the cage, for she is no longer a prisoner, but our good friend. where did you find my missing pet, nick chopper?" "in a room of the palace," he answered. "justice," remarked the scarecrow, with a sigh, "is a dangerous thing to meddle with. if you hadn't happened to find the piglet, eureka would surely have been executed." "but justice prevailed at the last," said ozma, "for here is my pet, and eureka is once more free." "i refuse to be free," cried the kitten, in a sharp voice, "unless the wizard can do his trick with eight piglets. if he can produce but seven, then this is not the piglet that was lost, but another one." "hush, eureka!" warned the wizard. "don't be foolish," advised the tin woodman, "or you may be sorry for it." "the piglet that belonged to the princess wore an emerald collar," said eureka, loudly enough for all to hear. "so it did!" exclaimed ozma. "this cannot be the one the wizard gave me." "of course not; he had nine of them, altogether," declared eureka; "and i must say it was very stingy of him not to let me eat just a few. but now that this foolish trial is ended, i will tell you what really became of your pet piglet." at this everyone in the throne room suddenly became quiet, and the kitten continued, in a calm, mocking tone of voice: "i will confess that i intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so i crept into the room where it was kept while the princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair. when ozma went away she closed the door and left her pet on the table. at once i jumped up and told the piglet not to make a fuss, for he would be inside of me in half a second; but no one can teach one of these creatures to be reasonable. instead of keeping still, so i could eat him comfortably, he trembled so with fear that he fell off the table into a big vase that was standing on the floor. the vase had a very small neck, and spread out at the top like a bowl. at first the piglet stuck in the neck of the vase and i thought i should get him, after all, but he wriggled himself through and fell down into the deep bottom part--and i suppose he's there yet." all were astonished at this confession, and ozma at once sent an officer to her room to fetch the vase. when he returned the princess looked down the narrow neck of the big ornament and discovered her lost piglet, just as eureka had said she would. there was no way to get the creature out without breaking the vase, so the tin woodman smashed it with his axe and set the little prisoner free. then the crowd cheered lustily and dorothy hugged the kitten in her arms and told her how delighted she was to know that she was innocent. "but why didn't you tell us at first?" she asked. "it would have spoiled the fun," replied the kitten, yawning. ozma gave the wizard back the piglet he had so kindly allowed nick chopper to substitute for the lost one, and then she carried her own into the apartments of the palace where she lived. and now, the trial being over, the good citizens of the emerald city scattered to their homes, well content with the day's amusement. . zeb returns to the ranch eureka was much surprised to find herself in disgrace; but she was, in spite of the fact that she had not eaten the piglet. for the folks of oz knew the kitten had tried to commit the crime, and that only an accident had prevented her from doing so; therefore even the hungry tiger preferred not to associate with her. eureka was forbidden to wander around the palace and was made to stay in confinement in dorothy's room; so she began to beg her mistress to send her to some other place where she could enjoy herself better. dorothy was herself anxious to get home, so she promised eureka they would not stay in the land of oz much longer. the next evening after the trial the little girl begged ozma to allow her to look in the enchanted picture, and the princess readily consented. she took the child to her room and said: "make your wish, dear, and the picture will show the scene you desire to behold." then dorothy found, with the aid of the enchanted picture, that uncle henry had returned to the farm in kansas, and she also saw that both he and aunt em were dressed in mourning, because they thought their little niece had been killed by the earthquake. "really," said the girl, anxiously, "i must get back as soon as poss'ble to my own folks." zeb also wanted to see his home, and although he did not find anyone morning for him, the sight of hugson's ranch in the picture made him long to get back there. "this is a fine country, and i like all the people that live in it," he told dorothy. "but the fact is, jim and i don't seem to fit into a fairyland, and the old horse has been begging me to go home again ever since he lost the race. so, if you can find a way to fix it, we'll be much obliged to you." "ozma can do it, easily," replied dorothy. "tomorrow morning i'll go to kansas and you can go to californy." that last evening was so delightful that the boy will never forget it as long as he lives. they were all together (except eureka) in the pretty rooms of the princess, and the wizard did some new tricks, and the scarecrow told stories, and the tin woodman sang a love song in a sonorous, metallic voice, and everybody laughed and had a good time. then dorothy wound up tik-tok and he danced a jig to amuse the company, after which the yellow hen related some of her adventures with the nome king in the land of ev. the princess served delicious refreshments to those who were in the habit of eating, and when dorothy's bed time arrived the company separated after exchanging many friendly sentiments. next morning they all assembled for the final parting, and many of the officials and courtiers came to look upon the impressive ceremonies. dorothy held eureka in her arms and bade her friends a fond good-bye. "you must come again, some time," said the little wizard; and she promised she would if she found it possible to do so. "but uncle henry and aunt em need me to help them," she added, "so i can't ever be very long away from the farm in kansas." ozma wore the magic belt; and, when she had kissed dorothy farewell and had made her wish, the little girl and her kitten disappeared in a twinkling. "where is she?" asked zeb, rather bewildered by the suddenness of it. "greeting her uncle and aunt in kansas, by this time," returned ozma, with a smile. then zeb brought out jim, all harnessed to the buggy, and took his seat. "i'm much obliged for all your kindness," said the boy, "and very grateful to you for saving my life and sending me home again after all the good times i've had. i think this is the loveliest country in the world; but not being fairies jim and i feel we ought to be where we belong--and that's at the ranch. good-bye, everybody!" he gave a start and rubbed his eyes. jim was trotting along the well-known road, shaking his ears and whisking his tail with a contented motion. just ahead of them were the gates of hugson's ranch, and uncle hugson now came out and stood with uplifted arms and wide open mouth, staring in amazement. "goodness gracious! it's zeb--and jim, too!" he exclaimed. "where in the world have you been, my lad?" "why, in the world, uncle," answered zeb, with a laugh. al haines. the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch or _little folks on ponyback_ by howard r. garis contents chapter i trouble's tumble ii nicknack and trouble iii off for the west iv the collision v at ring rosy ranch vi cowboy fun vii bad news viii a queer noise ix the sick pony x a surprised doctor xi trouble makes a lasso xii the bucking bronco xiii missing cattle xiv looking for indians xv trouble "helps" xvi on the trail xvii the curlytops alone xviii lost xix the hidden valley xx back to ring rosy the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch chapter i trouble's tumble "say, jan, this isn't any fun!" "what do you want to play then, ted?" janet martin looked at her brother, who was dressed in one of his father's coats and hats while across his nose was a pair of spectacles much too large for him. janet, wearing one of her mother's skirts, was sitting in a chair holding a doll. "well, i'm tired of playing doctor, jan, and giving your make-believe sick doll bread pills. i want to do something else," and teddy began taking off the coat, which was so long for him that it dragged on the ground. "oh, i know what we can do that'll be lots of fun!" cried janet, getting up from the chair so quickly that she forgot about her doll, which fell to the floor with a crash that might have broken her head. "oh, my _dear!_" cried janet, as she had often heard her mother call when baby william tumbled and hurt himself. "oh, are you hurt?" and janet clasped the doll in her arms, and hugged it as though it were a real child. "is she busted?" ted demanded, but he did not ask as a real doctor might inquire. in fact, he had stopped playing doctor. "no, she isn't hurt, i guess," jan answered, feeling of her doll's head. "i forgot all about her being in my lap. oh, aren't you going to play any more, ted?" she asked as she saw her brother toss the big coat on a chair and take off the spectacles. "no. i want to do something else. this is no fun!" "well, let's make-believe you're sick and i can be a red cross nurse, like some of those we saw in the drugstore window down the street, making bandages for the soldiers. you could be a soldier, ted, and i could be the nurse, and i'd make some sugar pills for you, if you don't like the rolled-up bread ones you gave my doll." teddy martin thought this over for a few seconds. he seemed to like it. and then he shook his head. "no," he answered his sister, "i couldn't be a soldier." "why not?" "'cause i haven't got a gun and there isn't any tent." "we could make a tent with a sheet off the bed like we do lots of times. put it over a chair, you know." "but i haven't a gun," teddy went on. he knew that he and janet could make a tent, for they had often done it before. "couldn't you take a broom for a gun?" janet asked. "i'll get it from the kitchen." "pooh! what good is a broom for a gun? i want one that shoots! anyhow i haven't a uniform, and a soldier can't go to war without a uniform or a sword or a gun. i'm not going to play that!" janet did not know what to say for a few seconds. truly a soldier would not be much of one without a gun or a uniform, even if he was in a tent. but the little girl had not given up yet. the day was a rainy one. there was no school, for it was saturday, and staying in the house was no great fun. janet wanted her brother to stay and play with her and she knew she must do something to make him. for a while he had been content to play that he was dr. thompson, come to give medicine to jan's sick doll. but teddy had become tired of this after paying half a dozen visits and leaving pills made by rolling bread crumbs together. teddy laid aside his father's old hat and scratched his head. that is he tried to, but his head was so covered with tightly twisted curls that the little boy's fingers were fairly entangled in them. "say!" he exclaimed, "i wish my hair didn't curl so much! it's too long. i'm going to ask mother if i can't have it cut." "i wish i could have mine cut," sighed janet. "mine's worse to comb than yours is, ted." "yes, i know. and it always curls more on a rainy day." both children had the same curly hair. it was really beautiful, but they did not quite appreciate it, even though many of their friends, and some persons who saw them for the first time, called them "curlytops." indeed the tops of their heads were very curly. "oh, i know how we can do it!" suddenly cried janet, just happening to think of something. "do what?" asked her brother. "play the soldier game. you can pretend you were caught by the enemy and your gun and uniform were taken away. then you can be hurt and i'll be the red cross nurse and take care of you in the tent. i'll get some real sugar for pills, too! nora'll give me some. she's in the kitchen now making a cake." "maybe she'd give you a piece of cake, too," suggested teddy. "maybe," agreed janet. "i'll go and ask her." "ask her for some chocolate," added ted. "i guess, if i've got to be sick, i'd like chocolate pills 'stead of sugar." "all right," said janet, as she hurried downstairs from the playroom to the kitchen. in a little while she came back with a plate on which were two slices of chocolate cake, while on one edge of it were some crumbs of chocolate icing. "i'll make pills of that after we eat the cake," janet said. "you can pretend the cake made you sick if you want to, ted." "pooh! who ever heard of a soldier getting sick on cake? anyhow they don't have cake in the army--lessen they capture it from the enemy." "well, you can pretend you did that," said janet. "now i'll put my doll away," she went on, as she finished her piece of cake, "and well play the soldier game. i'll get some red cloth to make the cross." janet looked "sweet," as her mother said afterward, when she had wound a white cloth around her head, a red cross, rather ragged and crooked, being pinned on in front. the tent was made by draping a sheet from the bed across two chairs, and under this shelter teddy crawled. he stretched out on a blanket which janet had spread on the floor to be the hospital cot. "now you must groan, ted," she said, as she looked in a glass to see if her headpiece and cross were on straight. "groan? what for?" "'cause you've been hurt in the war, or else you're sick from the cake." "pooh! a little bit of cake like _that_ wouldn't make _me_ sick. you've got to give me a _lot_ more if you want me to be real sick." "oh, teddy martin! i'm not going to play if you make fun like that all the while. you've got to groan and pretend you've been shot. never mind about the cake." "all right. i'll be shot then. but you've got to give me a lot of chocolate pills to make me get better." "i'm not going to give 'em to you all at once, ted martin!" "well, maybe in two doses then. how many are there?" "oh, there's a lot. i'm going to take some myself." "you are not!" and teddy sat up so quickly that he hit the top of the sheet-tent with his head and made it slide from the chair. "there! look what you did!" cried janet. "now you've gone and spoiled everything!" "oh, well, i'll fix it," said ted, rather sorry for what he had done. "but you can't eat my chocolate pills." "i can so!" "you cannot! who ever heard of a nurse taking the medicine from a sick soldier?" "well, anyhow--well, wouldn't you give me some chocolate candy if you had some, and i hadn't?" asked janet. "course i would, jan. i'm not stingy!" "well, these pills are just like chocolate candy, and if i give 'em all to you--" "oh, well, then i'll let you eat _some_," agreed ted. "but you wanted me to play this game of bein' a sick soldier, and if i'm sick i've got to have the medicine." "yes, i'll give you the most," janet agreed. "now you lie down and groan and i'll hear you out on the battlefield and come and save your life." so, after janet had fixed the sheet over him again, teddy lay back on the blanket and groaned his very best. "oh, it sounds as real as anything!" exclaimed the little girl in delight. "do it some more, ted!" thereupon her brother groaned more loudly until janet stopped him by dropping two or three chocolate pills into his opened mouth. "oh! gurr-r-r-r! ugh! say, you 'most choked me!" spluttered ted, as he sat up and chewed the chocolate. "oh, i didn't mean to," said janet as she ate a pill or two herself. "now you lie down and go to sleep, 'cause i've got a lot more sick soldiers to go to see." "don't give 'em any of my chocolate pills," cautioned ted. "i need 'em all to make me get better." "i'll only make-believe give them some," promised janet. she and her brother played this game for a while, and teddy liked it--as long as the chocolate pills were given him. but when janet had only a few left and teddy was about to say he was tired of lying down, someone came into the playroom and a voice asked: "what you doin'?" "playing soldier," answered janet. "you mustn't drop your 'g' letters, trouble. mother doesn't like it." "i want some chocolate," announced the little boy, whose real name was william martin, but who was more often called trouble--because he got in so much of it, you know. "there's only one pill left. can i give it to him, ted?" asked janet. "yes, janet. i've had enough. anyhow, i know something else to play now. it's lots of fun!" "what?" asked janet eagerly. it was still raining hard and she wanted her brother to stay in the house with her. "we'll play horse," went on ted. "i'll be a bucking bronco like those uncle frank told us about on his ranch. we'll make a place with chairs where they keep the cow ponies and the broncos. i forget what uncle frank called it." "i know," said janet. "it's cor--corral." "corral!" exclaimed ted. "that's it! we'll make a corral of some chairs and i'll be a bucking bronco. that's a horse that won't let anybody ride on its back," the little boy explained. "i wants a wide!" said baby william. "well, maybe i'll give you a ride after i get tired of bucking," said teddy, thinking about it. they made a ring of chairs on the playroom floor, and in this corral teddy crept around on his hands and knees, pretending to be a wild western pony. janet tried to catch him and the children had much fun, trouble screaming and laughing in delight. at last teddy allowed himself to be caught, for it was hard work crawling around as he did, and rearing up in the air every now and then. "give me a wide!" pleaded trouble. "yes, i'll ride him on my back," offered teddy, and his baby brother was put up there by janet. "now don't go too fast with him, pony," she said. "yes, i wants to wide fast, like we does with nicknack," declared baby william. nicknack was the curlytops' pet goat. "all right, i'll give you a fast ride," promised teddy. he began crawling about the room with trouble on his back. the baby pretended to drive his "horse" by a string which ted held in his mouth like reins. "go out in de hall--i wants a big wide," directed trouble. "all right," assented teddy. out into the hall he went and then forgetting, perhaps, that he had his baby brother on his back, teddy began to buck--that is flop up and down. "oh--oh! 'top!" begged trouble. "i can't! i'm a wild-west pony," explained ted, bucking harder than ever. he hunched himself forward on his hands and knees, and before he knew it he was at the head of the stairs. then, just how no one could say, trouble gave a yell, toppled off teddy's back and the next instant went rolling down the flight, bump, bump, bumping at every step. chapter ii nicknack and trouble "oh, teddy!" screamed janet. "oh, trouble!" teddy did not answer at once. indeed he had hard work not to tumble down the stairs himself after his little brother. ted clung to the banister, though, and managed to save himself. "oh, he'll be hurt--terrible!" cried janet, and she tried to get past her older brother to run downstairs after trouble. but mrs. martin, who was in the dining-room talking to nora jones, the maid, heard the noise and ran out into the hall. "oh, children!" she cried. "teddy--janet--what's all that noise?" "it's trouble, mother!" announced teddy. "i was playing bucking bronco and--" "trouble fell downstairs!" screamed janet. while everyone was thus calling out at once, baby william came flopping head over heels, and partly sidewise, down the padded steps, landing right at his mother's feet, sitting up as straight as though in his high-chair. "oh, darling!" cried mrs. martin, catching the little fellow up in her arms, "are you hurt?" trouble was too much frightened to scream or cry. he had his mouth open but no sound came from it. he was just like the picture of a sobbing baby. "oh, nora!" cried mrs. martin, as she hurried into the dining-room with her little boy in her arms. "trouble fell downstairs! get ready to telephone for his father and the doctor in case he's badly hurt," and then she and the maid began looking over baby william to find out just what was the matter with him, while ted and janet, much frightened and very quiet, stood around waiting. and while mrs. martin is looking over trouble it will be a good chance for me to tell those of you who meet the curlytops for the first time in this book something about them, and what has happened to them in the other volumes of this series. the first book is named "the curlytops at cherry farm," and in that i had the pleasure of telling you about ted and janet and trouble martin and their father and mother, when they went to grandpa martin's place, called cherry farm, which was near the village of elmburg, not far from clover lake. there the children found a goat, which they named nicknack, and they kept him as a pet. when hitched to a wagon he gave them many nice rides. there were many cherry trees on grandpa martin's farm, and when some of the other crops failed the cherries were a great help, especially when the lollypop man turned them into "chewing cherry candy." after a good time on the farm the children had more fun when, as told in the second book, named "the curlytops on star island," they went camping with grandpa. on star island in clover lake they saw a strange blue light which greatly puzzled them, and it was some time before they knew what caused it. the summer and fall passed and ted and janet went home to cresco, where they lived, to spend the winter. what happened then is told in the third volume, called "the curlytops snowed in." the big storm was so severe that no one could get out and even nicknack was lost wandering about in the big drifts. the curlytops had a good time, even if they were snowed in. now spring had come again, and the children were ready for something else. but i must tell you a little bit about the family, as well as about what happened. you have already met ted, jan and trouble. ted's real name was theodore, but his mother seldom called him that unless she was quite serious about something he had done that was wrong. so he was more often spoken to as ted or teddy, and his sister janet was called jan. though oftener still they were called the "curlytops," or, if one was speaking to one or the other he would say "curlytop." that was because both teddy and janet had such very, very curly hair. ted's and jan's birthdays came on the same day, but they had been born a year apart, teddy being about seven years old and his sister a year younger. trouble was aged about three years. i have spoken of the curly hair of teddy and janet. unless you had seen it you would never have believed hair could be so curly! it was no wonder that even strangers called the children "curlytops." sometimes, when mother martin was combing the hair of the children, the comb would get tangled and she would have to pull a little to get it loose. that is one reason ted never liked to have his hair combed. janet's was a little longer than his, but just as curly. trouble's real name, as i have mentioned, was william. his father sometimes called him "a bunch of trouble," and his mother spoke of him as "dear trouble," while jan and ted called him just "trouble." mr. martin, whose name was richard, shortened to dick by his wife (whose name was ruth) owned a store in cresco, which is in one of our eastern states. nora jones, a cheerful, helpful maid-of-all-work had been in the martin family a long while, and dearly loved the children, who were very fond of her. the martins had many relatives besides the children's grandfather and grandmother, but i will only mention two now. they were aunt josephine miller, called aunt jo, who lived at clayton and who had a summer bungalow at mt. hope, near ruby lake. she was a sister of mrs. martin's. uncle frank barton owned a large ranch near rockville, montana. he was mr. martin's uncle, but ted and janet also called him their uncle. now that you have met the chief members of the family, and know a little of what has happened to them in the past you may be interested to go back to see what the matter is with trouble. his mother turned him over and over in her arms, feeling of him here and there. trouble had closed his mouth by this time, having changed his mind about crying. instead he was very still and quiet. "trouble, does it hurt you anywhere?" his mother asked him anxiously. "no," he said. "not hurt any place. i wants to wide on teddy's back some more." "the little tyke!" exclaimed mrs. martin with a sigh of relief. "i don't believe he is hurt a bit." "the stairs are real soft since we put the new carpet on them," remarked nora. "they are well padded," agreed mrs. martin. "i guess that's what kept him from getting hurt. it was like rolling down a feather bed. but he might have got his arm or leg twisted under him and have broken a bone. how did he happen to fall?" "we were playing red cross nurse," began janet, "and ted was a soldier in a tent and--" "but how could william fall downstairs if you were playing that sort of game?" asked her mother. "oh, we weren't playing it then," put in ted. "we'd changed to another game. i was a wild western bronco, like those on uncle frank's ranch, and i was giving trouble a ride on my back. i gave a jump when i was near the stairs, and i guess he must have slipped off." "there isn't any guessing about it--he _did_ slip off," said mrs. martin with a smile, as she put trouble in a chair, having made sure he was not hurt, and that there was no need of telephoning for his father or the doctor. "you must be more careful, teddy. you might have hurt your little brother." "yes'm," teddy answered. "i won't do it again." "but we want to play something," put in janet. "it's no fun being in the house all day." "i know it isn't. but i think the rain is going to stop pretty soon. if you get your rain-coats and rubbers you may go out for a little while." "me go too?" begged trouble. "yes, you may go too," agreed his mother. "you'll all sleep better if you get some fresh air; and it's warm, even if it has been raining." "maybe we can take nicknack and have a ride!" exclaimed teddy. "if it stops raining," said his mother. ted, jan and trouble ran up and down in front of the house while the rain fell softly and the big drops dripped from the trees. then the clouds broke away, the sun came out, the rain stopped and with shouts and laughter the children ran to the barn next to which, in a little stable of his own, nicknack, the goat, was kept. "come on out, nicknack!" cried janet. "you're going to give us a ride!" and nicknack did, being hitched to the goat-cart in which there was room and to spare for janet, ted and trouble. up and down the street in front of their home the martin children drove their pet goat. "whee, this is fun!" cried ted, as he made nicknack run downhill with the wagon. "oh, teddy martin, don't go so fast!" begged janet. "i like to go fast!" answered her brother. "i'm going to play wild west. this is the stage coach and pretty soon the indians will shoot at us!" "teddy martin! if you're going to do that i'm not going to play!" stormed janet. "you'll make trouble fall out and get hurt. come on, trouble! let us get out!" she cried. nicknack was going quite fast down the hill. "wait till we get to the bottom," shouted ted. "g'lang there, pony!" he cried to the goat. "let me out!" screamed janet, "i want to get out." at the foot of the hill teddy stopped the goat and janet, taking trouble with her, got out and walked back to the house. "what's the matter now?" asked mrs. martin from the porch where she had come out to get a little fresh air. "ted's playing wild west in the goat-wagon," explained janet. "oh, ted! don't be so rough!" begged his mother of her little son, who drove up just then. "oh, i'm only playing indians and stage coach," he said. "you've got to go fast when the indians are after you!" and away he rode. "he's awful mean!" declared janet. "i don't know what's come over ted of late," said mrs. martin to her husband, who came up the side street just then from his store. "what's he been doing?" asked mr. martin. "oh, he's been pretending he was a bucking bronco, like those uncle frank has on his ranch, and he tossed trouble downstairs. but the baby didn't get hurt, fortunately. now ted's playing wild west stagecoach with nicknack and janet got frightened and wouldn't ride." "hum, i see," said ted's father slowly. "our boy is getting older, i guess. he needs rougher play. well, i think i've just the very thing to suit him, and perhaps janet and all of us." "what is it?" asked mrs. martin, as her husband drew a letter from his pocket. "this is an invitation from uncle frank for all of us to come out to his ranch in montana for the summer," was the answer. "we have been talking of going, you know, and now is a good chance. i can leave the store for a while, and i think it would do us all good--the children especially--to go west. so if you'd like it, well pack up and go." "go where?" asked ted, driving around near the veranda in time to hear his father's last words. "out to uncle frank's ranch," said mr. martin. "how would you like that?" added his mother. "could we have ponies to ride?" asked ted. "yes, i think so." "oh, what fun!" cried janet. "i love a pony!" "you'd be afraid of them!" exclaimed ted. "i would not! if they didn't jump up and down the way you did with trouble on your back i wouldn't be afraid." "pooh! that's the way bucking broncos always do, don't they, daddy? i'm going to have a bronco!" "well, well see when we get there," said daddy martin. "but since you all seem to like it, we'll go out west." "can we take nicknack?" asked teddy. "you won't need him if you have a pony," his father suggested. "no, that's so. hurray! what fun we'll have!" "are there any indians out there?" asked janet. "well, a few, i guess," her father answered. "but they're docile indians--not wild. they won't hurt you. now let's go in and talk about it." the curlytops asked all sorts of questions of their father about uncle frank's ranch, but though he could tell them, in a general way, what it looked like, mr. martin did not really know much about the place, as he had never been there. "but you'll find lots of horses, ponies and cattle there," he said. "and can we take nicknack with us, to ride around the ranch?" asked jan, in her turn. "oh, you won't want to do that," her father said. "you'll have ponies to ride, i think." "what'll we do with nicknack then?" asked ted. "we'll have to leave him with some neighbor until we come back," answered his father. "i was thinking of asking mr. newton to take care of him. bob newton is a kind boy and he wouldn't harm your goat." "yes, bob is a good boy," agreed teddy. "i'd like him to have nicknack." "then, if it is all right with mr. newton, well take the goat over a few days before we leave for the west," said mr. martin. "bob will have a chance to get used to nicknack, and nicknack to him, before we go away." "nicknack not come wif us?" asked trouble, not quite understanding what the talk was about. "no, we'll leave nicknack here," said his father, as he cuddled the little fellow up in his lap. trouble said nothing more just then but, afterward, ted remembered that baby william seemed to be thinking pretty hard about something. a few days later, when some of the trunks had been partly packed, ready for the trip west, mr. martin came home early from the store and said to jan and ted: "i think you'd better get your goat ready now and take him over to bob's house. i spoke to mr. newton about it, and he said there was plenty of room in his stable for a goat bob is delighted to have him." "but hell give him back to us when we come home, won't he?" asked janet. "oh, yes, of course! you won't lose your goat," said her father with a laugh. but when they went out to the stable to harness nicknack to the wagon, ted and janet rubbed their eyes and looked again. "why, nicknack is gone!" exclaimed ted. "he is," agreed his sister. "maybe bob came and got him." "no, he wouldn't do that without telling us," went on ted. "i wonder where that goat is?" he looked around the stable yard and in the barn. no nicknack was in sight. when the curlytops were searching they heard their mother calling to them from the house, where their father was waiting for them to come up with nicknack. he was going over to mr. newton's with them. "ho, ted! janet! where are you?" called mrs. martin. "out here, mother!" teddy answered. "is trouble there with you?" "trouble? no, he isn't here!" "he isn't!" exclaimed his mother. "where in the world can he be? nora says she saw him going out to the barn a little while ago. please find him!" "huh!" exclaimed ted. "trouble is gone and so is nicknack! i s'pose they've gone together!" "well have to look," said janet. chapter iii off for the west the curlytops hurried toward the house, leaving open the empty little stable in which nicknack was usually kept. they found their father and their mother looking around in the yard, mrs. martin had a worried air. "couldn't you find him?" asked daddy martin. "we didn't look--very much," answered teddy. "nicknack is gone, and--" "nicknack gone!" cried mrs. martin. "i wonder if that little tyke of ours has gotten into trouble with him." "nicknack wouldn't make any trouble," declared jan. "he's such a nice goat--" "yes, i know!" said mrs. martin quickly. "but it looks very much as though trouble and nicknack had gone off together. is the goat's harness in the stable?" "we didn't look," answered teddy. "the wagon's gone," janet said. "i looked under the shed for that and it wasn't there." "then i can just about guess what has happened," said daddy martin. "trouble heard as talking about taking nicknack over to mr. newton's house, where he would be kept while we are at uncle frank's ranch, and the little fellow has just about taken the goat over himself." "nonsense!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "trouble couldn't hitch the goat to the wagon and drive off with him." "oh, yes he could, mother!" said teddy. "he's seen me and janet hitch nicknack up lots of times, and he's helped, too. at first he got the straps all crooked, but i showed him how to do it, and i guess he could 'most hitch the goat up himself now all alone." "then that's what he's done," said mr. martin. "come on, curlytops, we'll go over to mr. newton's and get trouble." "i hope you find him all right," said mrs. martin, with a sigh. "oh, we'll find him all right--don't worry," her husband answered. laughing among themselves at the trick trouble had played, janet, teddy and mr. martin started for the home of mr. newton, which was three or four long streets away, toward the edge of the town. on the way they looked here and there, in the yards of houses where the children often went to play. "for," said mr. martin, "it might be possible that when trouble found he could drive nicknack, which he could do, as the goat is very gentle, he might have stopped on the way to play." "yes, he might," said jan. "he's so cute!" but there was no sign of the little boy, nor the goat, either. finally mr. newton's house was reached. into the yard rushed janet and teddy, followed by their father. bob newton was making a kite on the side porch. "hello, curlytop!" he called to ted. "want to help me fly this? it's going to be a dandy!" "yes, i'll help you," agreed ted. "but is he here?" "who here?" asked bob, in some surprise. "nicknack, our goat," answered teddy. "what! is he lost?" exclaimed bob in some dismay, for he was counting on having much fun with the goat when the curlytops went west. "nicknack--" began ted. "have you seen trouble?" broke in janet. "is he lost, too?" bob inquired. "say, i guess--" "our goat and little boy seem to have gone off together," explained mr. martin to mrs. newton who came out on the porch just then. "we'd been talking before trouble about bringing nicknack over here, and now that both are missing we thought maybe baby william had brought the goat over himself." "why, no, he isn't here," said mrs. newton slowly. "you didn't see anything of trouble and the goat, did you?" she asked her son. "no. i've been here making the kite all morning, and i'd have seen nicknack all right, and trouble, too, if they had come here." "well, that's funny!" exclaimed mr. martin. "i wonder where he can have gone?" "maybe nicknack ran away with him," suggested bob. "oh, don't say such things!" exclaimed his mother. "i don't think that can have happened," returned mr. martin, "nicknack is a very gentle goat, and trouble is used to playing with him all alone. he never yet has been hurt. of course we are not sure that the two went away together. trouble disappeared from the house, and he was last seen going toward the stable. "when ted and jan went out to get nicknack he was gone, too, and so was the wagon and harness. so we just thought trouble might have driven his pet over here." "yes, i think it likely that the two went away together," said mrs. newton; "but they're not here. bob, put away that kite of yours and help mr. martin and the curlytops look for trouble. he may have gone to mrs. simpson's," she went on. "he's often there you know." "yes, but we looked in their yard coming over," put in ted. "trouble wasn't there." "that's strange," murmured bob's mother. "well, he can't be far, that's sure, and he can't get lost. everybody in town knows him and the goat, and he's sure to be seen sooner or later." "i guess so," agreed mr. martin. "his mother was a little worried, though." "yes, i should think she would be. it's horrible to have anything happen to your children--or fear it may. i'll take off my apron and help you look." "oh, don't bother," said mr. martin. "we'll find him all right." but mrs. newton insisted on joining the search. there was a barn on the newton place--a barn in which bob was counting on keeping nicknack--and this place was first searched lest, perchance, trouble might have slipped in there with the goat without anyone having seen him, having come up through a back alley. but there was no goat inside; and bob, the curlytops, mr. martin and mrs. newton came out again, and looked up and down the street. "i'll tell you what we'd better do," said bob's mother. "ted, you come with bob and me. you know trouble's ways, and where he would be most likely to go. let janet go with her father, and we'll go up and down the street, inquiring in all the houses we come to. your little brother is sure to be near one of them." "that's a good idea," said mr. martin. "jan, you come with me. i expect your mother will be along any minute now. she won't wait at home long for us if we don't come back with trouble." so the two parties started on the search, one up and the other down the street. bob, teddy and mrs. newton inquired at a number of houses, but no one in them had seen trouble and nicknack that day. nor did janet and her father get any trace of the missing ones. "i wonder where he is," murmured teddy, and he was beginning to feel afraid that something had happened to trouble. "let's go down the back street," suggested bob. "you know there's quite a lot of wagons and automobiles go along this main street where we've been looking. maybe if trouble hitched up nicknack and went for a ride he'd turn down the back street 'cause it's quieter." "yes, he may have done that," agreed mrs. newton. so down the back street the three went. there were several vacant lots on this street and as the grass in them was high--tall enough to hide a small boy and a goat and wagon--bob said they had better look in these places. this they did. there was nothing in the first two vacant lots, but in the third--after they had stopped at one or two houses and had not found the missing ones--teddy suddenly cried out: "hark!" "what'd you hear?" asked bob. "i thought i heard a goat bleating," was the answer. "listen!" whispered mrs. newton. they kept quiet, and then through the air came the sound: "baa-a-a-a-a!" "that's nicknack!" cried teddy, rushing forward. "i hope your little brother is there, too," said mrs. newton. and trouble was. when they got to the lower end of the vacant lot there, in a tangle of weeds, was the goat-wagon, and nicknack was in a tangle of harness fast to it. "look at trouble!" cried teddy. there lay the little fellow, sound asleep in the goat-wagon, his head pillowed on his arm, while nicknack was bleating now and then between the bites of grass and weeds he was eating. "oh, trouble!" cried mrs. newton as she took him up in her arms. "yes--dis me--i's trouble," was the sleepy response. "oh, 'lo, teddy," he went on as he saw his brother. "'lo, bob. you come to find me?" "i should say we _did_!" cried bob. "what are you doing here?" "havin' wide," was the answer. "everybody go 'way--out west--i not have a goat den. i no want nicknack to go 'way." "oh, i see what he means!" exclaimed teddy, after thinking over what his little brother said. "he heard us talking about bringing nicknack over to your house, bob, to keep him for us. trouble likes the goat and i guess he didn't want to leave him behind. maybe he thought he could drive him away out to montana, to uncle frank's ranch." "maybe," agreed bob. "that'd be a long drive, though." "i should say so!" agreed mrs. newton. "but i guess you're right, teddy. your little brother started off to hide the goat and wagon so you couldn't leave it behind. he's a funny baby, all right!" "and look how he harnessed him!" exclaimed bob. nicknack really wasn't harnessed. the leather straps and the buckles were all tangled up on him, but trouble had managed to make enough of them stick on the goat's back, and had somehow got part of the harness fast to the wagon, so nicknack could pull it along. "i had a nice wide," said trouble, as bob and teddy straightened out the goat's harness. "den i got sleepy an' nicknack he got hungry, so we comed in here." "and we've been looking everywhere for you!" exclaimed mrs. newton. "well, i'm glad we've found you. come along, now. ted, you and bob hurry along and tell the others. your mother'll be worried." and indeed mrs. martin was worried, especially when she met mr. martin and janet, who had not found trouble. but teddy and bob soon met with the other searchers and told them that baby "william had been found. "oh, what will you do next?" cried mrs. martin, as she clasped the little fellow in her arms. "such a fright as you've given us!" "no want nicknack to go 'way!" said trouble. "i guess that's what he did it for--he thought he could hide the goat so we wouldn't leave him behind," said daddy martin. "but we'll have to, just the same. trouble won't miss him when we get out on the ranch." so the goat and wagon were left at bob's house, and though trouble cried when he realized what was happening, he soon got over it. the next few days were filled with busy preparations toward going west. daddy martin bought the tickets, the packing was completed, last visits to their playmates were paid by janet and teddy, whose boy and girl friends all said that they wished they too were going out west to a big ranch. "we're going to see cowboys and indians!" ted told everyone. then came the last day in cresco--that is the last day for some time for the curlytops. the house was closed, nora going to stay with friends. skyrocket, the dog, and turnover, the cat, were sent to kind neighbors, who promised to look after them. bob had already started to take care of nicknack. "all aboard!" called the conductor of the train the curlytops and the others took. "all aboard!" "all aboard for the west!" echoed daddy martin, and they were off. chapter iv the collision "won't we have fun, jan, when we get to the ranch?" "i guess so, teddy. but i don't like it about those indians." "oh, didn't you hear daddy say they were tame ones--like the kind in the circus and wild west show? they won't hurt you, jan." "well, i don't like 'em. they've got such funny painted faces." "not the tame ones, jan. anyhow i'll stay with you." the curlytops were talking as they sat together in the railroad car which was being pulled rapidly by the engine out toward the big west, where uncle frank's ranch was. in the seat behind them was mother martin, holding trouble, who was asleep, while daddy martin was also slumbering. it was quite a long ride from cresco to rockville, which was in montana. it would take the curlytops about four days to make the trip, perhaps longer if the trains were late. but they did not mind, for they had comfortable coaches in which to travel. when they were hungry there was the dining-car where they could get something to eat, and when they were sleepy there was the sleeping-car, in which the colored porter made such funny little beds out of the seats. jan and ted thought it quite wonderful. for, though they had traveled in a sleeping-car before, and had seen the porter pull out the seats, let down the shelf overhead and take out the blankets and pillows to make the bed, still they never tired of watching. there were many other things to interest the curlytops and trouble on this journey to uncle frank's ranch. of course there was always something to see when they looked out of the windows of the cars. at times the train would pass through cities, stopping at the stations to let passengers get off and on. but it was not the cities that interested the children most. they liked best to see the fields and woods through which they passed. in some of the fields were horses, cows or sheep, and while the children did not see any such animals in the woods, except perhaps where the wood was a clump of trees near a farm, they always hoped they might. very often, when the train would rattle along through big fields, and then suddenly plunge into a forest, jan would call: "maybe we'll see one now, ted!" "oh, maybe so!" he would exclaim. then the two curlytops would flatten their noses against the window and peer out. "what are you looking for?" asked mother martin, the first time she saw the children do this. "indians," answered teddy, never turning around, for the train was still in the wood and he did not want to miss any chance. "indians!" exclaimed his mother, "why, what in the world put into your head the idea that we should see indians?" "well, uncle frank said there were indians out west, even if they weren't wild ones," answered teddy, "and me and jan wants to see some." "oh, you won't find any indians around _here_," said daddy martin with a laugh, as he laid aside the paper he was reading. "it is true there are some out west, but we are not there yet, and, if we were, you would hardly find the indians so near a railroad." "can't we ever see any?" jan wanted to know. "i don't just like indians, 'cause they've always got a gun or a knife--i mean in pictures," she hastened to add. "course i never saw a real indian, 'ceptin' maybe in a circus." "you'll see some real ones after a while," her mother told her, and then the children stopped pressing their noses flat against the car windows, for the train had come out of the wood and was nearing a large city. there, jan and ted felt sure, no indians would be seen. "but we'll keep watch," said jan to her brother, "and maybe i'll see an indian first." "and maybe i will! we'll both watch!" he agreed. something else that gave the children enjoyment was the passage through the train, every now and then, of the boy who sold candy, books and magazines. he would pass along between the seats, dropping into them, or into the laps of the passengers, packages of candy, or perhaps a paper or book. this was to give the traveler time to look at it, and make up his or her mind whether or not to buy it. a little later the boy would come along to collect the things he had left, and get the money for those the people kept for themselves. ted and jan were very desirous, each time, that the boy should sell something, and once, when he had gone through the car and had taken in no money, he looked so disappointed that jan whispered to her father: "won't you please buy something from him?" "buy what?" asked mr. martin. "a book or some candy from the newsboy," repeated the little girl. "he looks awful sorry." "hum! well, it is too bad if he didn't sell anything," said mr. martin. "i guess i can buy something. what would you like, something to read or something to eat?" "some pictures to look at," suggested teddy. "then we can show 'em to trouble. mother just gave us some cookies." "then i guess you've had enough to eat," laughed mr. martin. "here, boy!" he called. "have you any picture books for these curlytops of mine?" "yes, i have some nice ones," answered the boy, and with a smile on his face he went into the baggage car, where he kept his papers, candy and other things, and soon came back with a gaily colored book, at the sight of which ted and jan uttered sighs of delight. "dat awful p'etty!" murmured trouble, and indeed the book did have nice pictures in it. mr. martin paid for it, and then ted and jan enjoyed very much looking at it, with trouble in the seat between them. he insisted on seeing each picture twice, the page being no sooner turned over than he wanted it turned back again. but at last even he was satisfied, and then ted and jan went back to their first game of looking out of the window for indians or other sights that might interest them. trouble slipped out of his seat between his brother and sister and went to a vacant window himself. for a time he had good fun playing with the window catch, and mrs. martin let him do this, having made sure, at first, that he could not open the sash. then they all forgot trouble for a while and he played by himself, all alone in one of the seats. a little later, when teddy and janet were tired of looking for the indians which they never saw, they were talking about the good times they had had with nicknack, and wondering if uncle frank would have a goat, or anything like it, when trouble came toddling up to their seat. "what you got?" asked teddy of his little brother, noticing that baby william was chewing something. "what you got, trouble?" "tandy," he said, meaning candy, of course. "oh, where'd you get it?" chimed in jan. "nice boy gived it to me," trouble answered. "here," and he held the package out to his brother and sister. "oh, wasn't that good of him!" exclaimed jan. "it's nice chocolate candy, too. i'll have another piece, trouble." they all had some and they were eating the sweet stuff and having a good time, when they saw their father looking at them. there was a funny smile on his face, and near him stood the newsboy, also smiling. "trouble, did you open a box of candy the boy left in your seat?" asked mr. martin. "yes, he's got some candy," answered jan. "he said the boy gave it to him." "i didn't mean for him to _open_ it," the boy said. "i left it in his seat and i thought he'd ask his father if he could have it. but when i came to get it, why, it was gone." "oh, what a funny little trouble!" laughed mother martin. "he thought the boy meant to give the candy to him, i guess. well, daddy, i think you'll have to pay for it." and so mr. martin did. the candy was not a gift after all, but trouble did not know that. however, it all came out right in the end. they had been traveling two days, and now, toward evening of the second day, the curlytops were talking together about what they would do when they got to uncle frank's ranch. "i hope they have lots to eat there," sighed ted, when he and jan had gotten off the subject of indians. "i'm hungry right now." "so'm i," added his sister. "but they'll call us to supper pretty soon." the children always eagerly waited for the colored waiter to come through the coaches rumbling out in his bass voice: "first call fo' supper in de dinin'-car!" or he might say "dinner" or "breakfast," or make it the "last call," just as it happened. now it was time for the first supper call, and in a little while the waiter came in. "eh? what's that? time for supper _again_?" cried daddy martin, awakening from a nap. trouble stretched and yawned in his mother's arms. "i's hungry!" he said. "so'm i!" cried ted and jan together. "shall we have good things to eat on uncle frank's ranch?" asked teddy, as they made ready to walk ahead to the dining-car. "of course!" his mother laughed. "why are you worrying about that?" "oh, i just wanted to know," teddy answered. "we had so many good things at cherry farm and when we were camping with grandpa that i want some out on the ranch." "well, i think we can trust to uncle frank," said mr. martin. "but if you get too hungry, teddy, you can go out and lasso a beefsteak or catch a bear or deer and have him for breakfast." "is there bears out there, too?" asked janet in a good deal of excitement. "bears and indians?" "well, there may be a few bears here and there," her father said with a smile, "but they won't hurt you if you don't hurt them. now we'll go and see what they have for supper here." to the dining-car they went, and as they passed through one of the coaches on their way teddy and janet heard a woman say to her little girl: "look at those curlytops, ethel. don't you wish you could have some of their curl put into your hair?" it was evening and the sun was setting. as the train sped along the curlytops could look through the windows off across the fields and woods through which they passed. "isn't it just wonderful," said mother martin, "to think of sitting down to a nice meal which is being cooked for us while the train goes so fast? imagine, children, how, years ago, the cowboys and hunters had to go on horses all the distance out west, and carry their food on their pony's back or in a wagon called a prairie schooner. how much easier and quicker and more comfortable it is to travel this way." "i'd like to ride on a pony," said teddy. "i wouldn't care how slow he went." "i imagine you wouldn't like it when night came," said his mother, as she moved a plate so the waiter could set glasses of milk in front of the children. "you wouldn't like to sleep on the ground with only a blanket for a bed, would you?" "'deed i would!" declared teddy. "i wish i had--" just then the train went around a curve, and, as it was traveling very fast, the milk which teddy was raising to his mouth slopped and spilled down in his lap. "oh, teddy!" cried his mother. "i--i couldn't help it!" he exclaimed, as he wiped up as much of the milk as he could on a napkin with which the waiter hastened to him. "no, we know it was the train," said daddy martin. "it wouldn't have happened if you had been traveling on pony-back, and had stopped to camp out for the night before you got your supper; would it, ted?" he asked with a smile. "no," said the little boy. "i wish we could camp out and hunt indians!" "oh my goodness!" exclaimed his mother. "don't get such foolish notions in your head. anyway there aren't any indians to hunt on uncle frank's ranch, are there, dick?" she asked her husband. "well, no, i guess not," he answered slowly. "there are some indians on their own ranch, or government reservation, not far from where uncle frank has his horses and cattle, but i guess the redmen never bother anyone." "can we go to see 'em?" asked teddy. "i guess so," said mr. martin. "me go, too! me like engines," murmured trouble, who had also spilled a little milk on himself. "he thinks we're talking about _engines_--the kind that pull this train!" laughed ted. "i don't believe he ever saw a real _indian."_ "no, indians do not walk the streets of cresco," said mrs. martin. "but finish your suppers, children. others are waiting to use the table and we must not keep them too long." there were many travelers going west--not all as far as the curlytops though--and as there was not room in the dining-car for all of them to sit down at once they had to take turns. that is why the waiter made one, two, and sometimes three calls for each meal, as he went through the different coaches. supper over, the martins went back to their place in the coach in which they had ridden all day. they would soon go into the beds, or berths, as they are called, to sleep all night. in the morning they would be several hundred miles nearer uncle frank's ranch. the electric lights were turned on, and then, for a while, jan, ted and the others sat and talked. they talked about the fun they had had when at cherry farm, of the good times camping with grandpa and how they were snowed in, when they wondered what had become of the strange lame boy who had called at mr. martin's store one day. "i wish hal chester could come out west with us" said teddy, as the porter came to tell them he would soon make up their beds. "he'd like to hunt indians with me." hal was a boy who had been cured of lameness at a home for crippled children, not far from cherry farm. "i suppose you'll _dream_ of indians," said teddy's mother to him. "you've _talked_ about them all day. but get ready for bed, now. traveling is tiresome for little folks." indeed after the first day ted and janet found it so. they wished, more than once, that they could get out and run about, but they could not except when the train stopped longer than usual in some big city. then their father would take them to the platform for a little run up and down. true they could walk up and down the aisle of the car, but this was not much fun, as the coach swayed so they were tossed against the sides of the seats and bruised. "i'll be glad when we get to uncle frank's ranch," said janet as she crawled into the berth above her mother, who slept with trouble. "so'll i," agreed teddy, who climbed up the funny little ladder to go to bed in the berth above his father. "i want a pony ride!" on through the night rumbled and roared the train, the whistle sounding mournfully in the darkness as the engineer blew it at the crossings. ted and janet were sleeping soundly, janet dreaming she had a new doll, dressed like an indian papoose, or baby, while ted dreamed he was on a wild pony that wanted to roll over and over instead of galloping straight on. suddenly there was a loud crash that sounded through the whole train. the engine whistled shrilly and then came a jar that shook up everyone. teddy found himself rolling out of his berth and he grabbed the curtains just in time to save himself. "oh, daddy!" he cried, "what's the matter?" "what is it?" called jan from her berth, while women in the coach were screaming and men ere calling to one another. "what is it, dick?" cried mrs. martin. "i think we've had a collision," answered her husband. "did our train bunk into another?" asked ted. "i'm afraid so," replied his father. chapter v at ring rosy ranch there was so much noise in the sleeping car where the curlytops and others had been peacefully traveling through the night, that, at first, it was hard to tell what had happened. all that anyone knew was that there had been a severe jolt--a "bunk" teddy called it--and that the train had come to a sudden stop. so quickly had it stopped, in fact, that a fat man, who was asleep in a berth just behind mr. martin, had tumbled out and now sat in the aisle of the car, gazing about him, a queer look on his sleepy face, for he was not yet fully awake. "i say!" cried the fat man. "who pushed me out of bed?" even though they were much frightened, mrs. martin and some of the other men and women could not help laughing at this. and the laughter did more to quiet them than anything else. "well, i guess no one here is much hurt--if at all," said daddy martin, as he put on a pair of soft slippers he had ready in the little hammock that held his clothes inside the berth. "i'll go and see if i can find out what the matter is." "an', daddy, bring me suffin t'eat!" exclaimed trouble, poking his head out between the curtains of the berth where he had been sleeping with his mother when the collision happened. "there's one boy that's got sense," said a tall thin man, who was helping the fat man to get to his feet "he isn't hurt, anyhow." "thank goodness, no," said mrs. martin, who, as had some of the other women, had on a dressing gown. mrs. martin was looking at trouble, whom she had taken up in her arms. "he hasn't a scratch on him," she said, "though i heard him slam right against the side of the car. he was next to the window." "it's a mercy we weren't all of us tossed out of the windows when the train stopped so suddenly, the way it did," said a little old woman. "it's a mercy, too," smiled another woman who had previously made friends with jan and teddy, "that the curlytops did not come hurtling down out of those upper berths." mr. martin, after making sure his family was all right, partly dressed and went out with some of the other men. the train had come to a standstill, and jan and ted, looking out of the windows of their berths, could see men moving about in the darkness outside with flaring torches. "maybe it's robbers," said teddy in a whisper. "robbers don't stop trains," objected janet "yes they do!" declared her brother positively, "train robbers do. don't they, mother?" "oh, don't talk about such things now, teddy boy. be thankful you are all right and hope that no one is hurt in the collision." "that's what i say!" exclaimed the fat man. "so it's a collision, is it? i dreamed we were in a storm and that i was blown out of bed." "well, you fell out, which is much the same thing," said the thin man. "our car doesn't seem to be hurt, anyhow." ted and janet came out into the aisle in their pajamas. they looked all about them but, aside from seeing a number of men and women who were greatly excited, nothing else appeared to be the matter. then in came their father with some of the other men. "it isn't a bad collision," said daddy martin. "our engine hit a freight car that was on a side track, but too close to our rails to be passed safely. it jarred up our engine and the front cars quite a bit, and our engine is off the track, but no one is hurt." "that's good!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "i mean that no one is hurt." "how are they going to get the engine back on the track?" teddy wanted to know. "can't i go out and watch 'em?" "i want to go, too!" exclaimed janet. "indeed you can't--in the dark!" exclaimed her father. "besides, the railroad men don't want you in the way. they asked us all to go to our coaches and wait. they'll soon have the engine back on the rails they said." everyone was awake now, and several children in the car, like trouble, were hungry. the porter who had been hurrying to and fro said he could get the children some hot milk from the dining-car, and this he did. some of the grown folks wanted coffee and sandwiches, and these having been brought in, there was quite a merry picnic in the coach, even if the train had been in a collision. then there was much puffing and whistling of the engine. the curlytops, looking out of the window again, saw more men hurrying here and there with flaring torches which flickered and smoked. these were the trainmen helping to get the engine back on the rails, which they did by using iron wedges or "jumpers," much as a trolley car in your city streets is put back on the rails once it slips off. at last there was another "bunk" to the train, as teddy called it. at this several women screamed. "it's all right," said daddy martin. "they've got the engine back on the rails and it has just backed up to couple on, or fasten itself, to the cars again. now we'll go forward again." and they did--in a little while. it did not take the curlytops or trouble long to fall asleep once more, but some of the older people were kept awake until morning, they said afterward. they were afraid of another collision. but none came, and though the train was a little late the accident really did not amount to much, though it might have been a bad one had the freight car been a little farther over on the track so the engine had run squarely into it. all the next day and night the curlytops traveled in the train, and though jan and ted liked to look out of the windows, they grew tired of this after a while and began to ask: "when shall we be at uncle frank's ranch?" "pretty soon now," said their father. i will not tell you all that happened on the journey to the west. truth to say there was not much except the collision. the curly-tops ate their meals, drank cupful after cupful of water, and trouble did the same, for children seem to get very thirsty when they travel--much more so than at home. then, finally, one afternoon, after a long stop when a new engine was attached to the train, daddy martin said: "well be at rockville in an hour now. so we'd better begin to get together our things." "shall we be at uncle frank's ranch in an hour?" asked teddy. "no, but well be at rockville. from there we go out over the prairies in a wagon." "a wagon with ponies?" asked janet. "yes, real western ponies," said her father. "then well be at the ranch." and it happened just that way. on puffed the train. then the porter came to help the martin family off at rockville. "rockville! rockville! all out for rockville!" joked daddy martin. "hurray!" cried teddy. "here we are!" "and i see uncle frank!" exclaimed janet, looking from the window toward the station as the train slowed up to stop. out piled the curlytops, and into the arms of uncle frank they rushed. he caught them up and kissed them one after the other--teddy, janet and trouble. "well, well!" he cried, "i'm glad to see you! haven't changed a bit since you were snowed in! now pile into the wagon and well get right out to circle o ranch." "where's that?" asked teddy. "why, that's the name of my ranch," said uncle frank. "see, there's the sign of it," and he pointed to the flank of one of the small horses, or ponies, hitched to his wagon. ted and janet saw a large circle in which was a smaller letter o. "we call it circle o," explained the ranchman. "each place in the west that raises cattle or horses has a certain sign with which the animals are branded, or marked, so their owners can tell them from others in case they get mixed up. my mark is a circle around an o." "it looks like a ring-around-the-rosy," said janet. "say! so it does!" laughed uncle frank. "i never thought of that. ring rosy ranch! that isn't a half bad name! guess i'll call mine that after this. come on to ring rosy ranch!" he invited as he laughed at the curlytops. and the name janet gave uncle frank's place in fun stuck to it, so that even the cowboys began calling their ranch "ring rosy," instead of "circle o." chapter vi cowboy fun into the big wagon piled the curlytops, mrs. martin and trouble, while daddy martin and uncle frank went to see about the baggage. jan and ted looked curiously about them. it was the first time they had had a chance to look quietly since they had started on the journey, for they had been traveling in the train nearly a week, it seemed. what they saw was a small railroad station, set in the midst of big rolling fields. there was a water tank near the station, and not far from the tank was a small building in which a pump could be heard chug-chugging away. "but where is the ranch?" asked janet of her brother. "i don't see any cows and horses." "dere's horses," stated trouble, pointing to the two sturdy ponies hitched to the wagon. "yes, i know" admitted janet. "but uncle frank said he had more'n a hundred horses and--" "and a thousand steers--that's cattle," interrupted ted. "i don't see any, either. maybe we got off at the wrong station, mother." "no, you're all right," laughed mrs. martin. "didn't uncle frank meet us and didn't daddy tell us we'd have to drive to the ranch?" "what's the matter now, curlytops?" asked their father's uncle, as the two men came back from having seen about the baggage, which had arrived safely. "what are you two youngsters worrying about, teddy and janet?" "they're afraid we're at the wrong place because they can't see the ranch," answered their mother. "oh, that's over among the hills," said uncle frank, waving his hand toward some low hills that were at the foot of some high mountains. "it wouldn't do," he went on, "to have a ranch too near a railroad station. the trains might scare the horses and cattle. you will soon be there, curlytops. we'll begin to travel in a minute." ted and janet settled themselves in the seat, where they were side by side, and looked about them. suddenly janet clasped her brother by the arm and exclaimed: "look, ted! look!" "where?" he asked. "right over there--by the station. it's an _indian_!" "a real one?" asked teddy, who, at first, did not see where his sister was pointing. "he _looks_ like a real one," janet answered. "he's _alive_, 'cause he's moving!" she snuggled closer to her brother. then teddy saw where janet pointed. a big man, whose face was the color of a copper cent, was walking along the station platform. he was wrapped in a dirty blanket, but enough of him could be seen to show that he was a redman. "is that a _real_ indian, uncle frank?" asked teddy in great excitement. "what? him? oh, yes, he's a real indian all right. there's a lot of 'em come down to the station to sell baskets and beadwork to the people who go through on the trains." "is he a _tame_ indian?" the little boy next wanted to know. "oh, he's 'tame' all right. hi there, running horse!" called uncle frank to the copper-faced man in the blanket, "sell many baskets to-day?" "um few. no good business," answered the indian in a sort of grunt. "oh, do you know him?" asked ted in surprise. "oh, yes. running horse often comes to the ranch when he's hungry. there's a reservation of the indians not far from our place. they won't hurt you, jan; don't be afraid," said uncle frank, as he saw that the little girl kept close to teddy. "was he wild once?" she asked timidly. "why, yes; i guess you might have called him a wild indian once," her uncle admitted. "he's pretty old and i shouldn't wonder but what he had been on the warpath against the white settlers." "oh!" exclaimed janet. "maybe he'll get wild again!" "oh, no he won't!" laughed uncle frank. "he's only too glad now to live on the reservation and sell the baskets the squaws make. the indian men don't like to work." running horse, which was the queer name the indian had chosen for himself, or which had been given him, walked along, wrapped in his blanket, though the day was a warm one. perhaps he thought the blanket kept the heat out in summer and the cold in winter. "get along now, ponies!" cried uncle frank, and the little horses began to trot along the road that wound over the prairies like a dusty ribbon amid the green grass. on the way to ring rosy ranch uncle frank had many questions to ask, some of the children and some of mr. and mrs. martin. together they laughed about the things that had happened when they were all snowed in. "tell uncle frank of trouble's trying to hide nicknack away so we wouldn't leave him behind," suggested mrs. martin. "ha! ha! that was pretty good!" exclaimed the ranchman when ted and janet, by turns, had told of trouble's being found asleep in the goat-wagon. "well, it's too bad you couldn't bring nicknack with you. he'd like it out on the ranch, i'm sure, but it would be too long a journey for him. you'll have rides enough--never fear!" "pony rides?" asked teddy. "pony rides in plenty!" laughed uncle frank. "we'll soon be there now, and you can see the ranch from the top of the next hill." the prairies were what are called "rolling" lard. that is there were many little hills and hollows, and the country seemed to be like the rolling waves of the ocean, if they had suddenly been made still. sometimes the wagon, drawn by the two little horses, would be down in a hollow, and again it would be on top of a mound-like hill from which a good view could be had. reaching the top of one hill, larger than the others, uncle frank pointed off in the distance and said: "there's circle o ranch, curlytops, or, as jan has named it, ring rosy ranch. we'll be there in a little while." the children looked. they saw, off on the prairie, a number of low, red buildings standing close together. beyond the buildings were big fields, in which were many small dots. "what are the dots?" asked janet. "those are my horses and cattle--steers we call the last," explained uncle frank. "they are eating grass to get fat you'll soon be closer to them." "are the indians near here?" teddy inquired. "no, not very near. it's a day's ride to their reservation. but don't worry about them. they won't bother you if you don't bother them," said uncle frank. teddy was not fully satisfied with this answer, for he hoped very much that the indians would "bother him"--at least, he thought that was what he wanted. when the curlytops drew closer to the ranch they could see that one of the buildings was a house, almost like their own in the east, only not so tall. it was all one story, as were the other buildings, some of which were stables for the horses and some sleeping places, or "bunk houses," for the cowboys, while from one building, as they approached closer, there came the good smell of something cooking. "that's the cook's place," said uncle frank, pointing with his whip. "all the cowboys love him, even if he is a chinaman." "have you a chinese cook?" asked mrs. martin. "yes, and he's a good one," answered uncle frank. "wait until you taste how he fries chicken." "i hope we taste some soon," said daddy martin. "this ride across the prairies has made me hungry." "i hungry, too!" exclaimed trouble. "i wants bread an' milk!" "and you shall have all you want!" laughed the ranchman. "we've plenty of milk." "oh, this is a dandy place!" exclaimed teddy, as the wagon drove up to the ranch house. "well have lots of fun here, janet!" "maybe we will, if--if the indians don't get us," she said. "pooh! i'm not afraid of them," boasted teddy, and then something happened. all at once there came a lot of wild yells, and sounds as if a fourth-of-july celebration of the old-fashioned sort were going on. there was a popping and a banging, and then around the corner of the house rode a lot of roughly-dressed men on ponies which kicked up a cloud of dust. "ki-yi! ki-yi! yippi-i-yip!" yelled the men. "bang! bang! bang!" exploded their revolvers. "oh, dear!" screamed janet. teddy turned a little pale, but he did not make a sound. "what is it?" asked mrs. martin, hugging trouble and his sister closer to her. "oh, what is it?" "don't be afraid!" laughed uncle frank. "those are the cowboys making you welcome to ring rosy ranch. that's their way of having fun!" chapter vii bad news on came the cowboys, yelling, shouting and shooting off their big revolvers which made noises like giant firecrackers. the men, some of whom wore big leather "pants," as teddy said afterward, and some of whom had on trousers that seemed to be made from the fleece of sheep, swung their hats in the air. some of them even stood up in their saddles, "just like circus riders!" as janet sent word to aunt jo, who was spending the summer at mt. hope. "are they shooting real bullets, uncle frank?" asked teddy, as soon as the noise died down a little and the cowboys were waving their hats to the curlytops and the other visitors to ring rosy ranch. "real bullets? bless your heart, no!" exclaimed mr. barton. "of course the cowboys sometimes have real bullets in their 'guns,' as they call their revolvers, but they don't shoot 'em for fun." "what makes them shoot?" asked janet. "well, sometimes it's to scare away bad men who might try to steal my cattle or horses, and again it's to scare the cattle themselves. you see," explained uncle frank, while the cowboys jumped from their horses and went to the bunk house to wash and get ready for supper, "a ranch is just like a big pasture that your grandfather martin has at cherry farm. only my ranch is ever so much bigger than his pastures, even all of them put together. and there are very few fences around any of my fields, so the cattle or horses might easily stray off, or be taken. "because of that i have to hire men--cowboys they are called--to watch my cattle and horses, to see that they do not run away and that no white men or indians come and run away with them. "but sometimes the cattle take it into their heads to run away themselves. they get frightened--'stampeded' we call it--and they don't care which way they run. sometimes a prairie fire will make them run and again it may be bad men--thieves. the cowboys have to stop the cattle from running away, and they do it by firing revolvers in front of them. so it wouldn't do to have real bullets in their guns when the cowboys are firing that way. they use blank cartridges, just as they did now to salute you when they came in." "is that what they did?" asked teddy. "saluted us?" "that's it. they just thought they'd have a little fun with you--see if they could scare you, maybe, because you're what they call a 'tenderfoot,' teddy." "pooh, i wasn't afraid!" declared teddy, perhaps forgetting a little. "i liked it. it was like the fourth of july!" "i didn't like it," said janet, with a shake of her curly head. "and what's a soft-foot, uncle frank?" "a soft-foot? oh, ho! i see!" he laughed. "you mean a tenderfoot! well, that's what the western cowboys call anybody from the east--where you came from. it means, i guess, that their feet are tender because they walk so much and don't ride a horse the way cowboys do. you see out here we folks hardly ever walk. if we've only got what you might call a block to go we hop on a horse and ride. so we get out of the way of walking. "now you eastern folk walk a good bit--that is when you aren't riding in street cars and in your automobiles, and i suppose that's why the cowboys call you tender-feet. you don't mind, though, do you, teddy?" "nope," he said. "i like it. but i'm going to learn to ride a pony." "so'm i!" exclaimed janet. "i wants a wide, too!" cried trouble. "can't i wide, uncle frank? we hasn't got nicknack, but maybe you got a goat," and he looked up at his father's uncle. "no, i haven't a goat," laughed uncle frank, "though there might be some sheep on some of the ranches here. but i guess ponies will suit you children better. when you curlytops learn to ride you can take trouble up on the saddle with you and give him a ride. he's too small to ride by himself yet." "i should say he was, uncle frank!" cried mrs. martin. "don't let _him_ get on a horse!" "i won't," promised mr. barton with a laugh. but trouble said: "i likes a pony! i wants a wide, muz-zer!" "you may ride with me when i learn," promised janet. "dat nice," responded william. uncle frank's wife, whom everyone called aunt millie, came out of the ranch house and welcomed the curlytops and the others. she had not seen them for a number of years. "my, how big the children are!" she cried as she looked at janet and teddy. "and here's one i've never seen," she went on, as she caught trouble up in her arms and kissed him. "now come right in. hop sing has supper ready for you." "hop sing!" laughed mother martin. "that sounds like a new record on the phonograph." "it's the name of our chinese cook," explained aunt millie, "and a very good one he is, too!" "are the cowboys coming in to eat with us?" asked teddy, as they all went into the house, where the baggage had been carried by uncle frank and daddy martin. "oh, no. they eat by themselves in their own building. not that we wouldn't have them, for they're nice boys, all of them, but they'd rather be by themselves." "do any indians come in?" asked janet, looking toward the door. "bless your heart, no!" exclaimed aunt millie. "we wouldn't want them, for they're dirty and not at all nice, though some of them do look like pictures when they wrap themselves around in a red blanket and stick feathers in their hair. we don't want any indians. now tell me about your trip." "we were in a collision!" cried janet. "in the middle of the night," added teddy. "an' i mos' fell out of my bed!" put in trouble. then, amid laughter, the story of the trip from the east was told. meanwhile hop sing, the chinese cook, cried out in his funny, squeaky voice that supper was getting cold. "well, well eat first and talk afterward," said uncle frank, as he led the way to the table. "come on, folks. i expect you all have good appetites. that's what we're noted for at ring rosy ranch." "what's that?" asked aunt millie. "have you given circle o a new name?" "one of the curlytops did," chuckled uncle frank. "they said my branding sign looked just like a ring-round-the-rosy, so i'm going to call the ranch that after this." "it's a nice name," said aunt millie. "and now let me see you curlytops--and trouble, too--though his hair isn't frizzy like ted's and janet's--let me see you eat until you get as fat as a ring rosy yourselves. if you don't eat as much as you can of everything, hop sing will feel as though he was not a good cook." the curlytops were hungry enough to eat without having to be told to, and hop sing, looking into the dining-room now and then from where he was busy in the kitchen, smiled and nodded his head as he said to the maid. "lil' chillens eat velly good!" "indeed they do eat very good," said the maid, as she carried in more of the food which hop sing knew so well how to cook. after supper the curlytops and the others sat out on the broad porch of the ranch house. off to one side were the other buildings, some where the farming tools were kept, for uncle frank raised some grain as well as cattle, and some where the cowboys lived, as well as others where they stabled their horses. "i know what let's do," said jan, when she and her brother had sat on the porch for some time, listening to the talk of the older folks, and feeling very happy that they were at uncle frank's ranch, where, they felt sure, they could have such good times. "what can we do?" asked teddy. very often he let jan plan some fun, and i might say that she got into trouble doing this as many times as her brother did. jan was a regular boy, in some things. but then i suppose any girl is who has two nice brothers, even if one is little enough to be called "baby." "let's go and take a walk," suggested jan. "my legs feel funny yet from ridin' in the cars so much." "ri-_ding_!" yelled teddy gleefully. "that's the time you forgot your g, janet." "yes, i did," admitted the little girl. "but there's so much to look at here that it's easy to forget. my forgetter works easier than yours does, ted." "it does not!" "it does, too!" "it does not!" "i--say--it--does!" and janet was very positive. "now, now, children!" chided their mother. "that isn't nice. what are you disputing about now?" "jan says her forgetter's better'n mine!" cried ted. "and it is," insisted janet. "i can forget lots easier than ted." "well, forgetting isn't a very good thing to do," said mr. martin. "remembering is better." "oh, that's what i meant!" said jan. "i thought it was a forgetter. anyhow mine's better'n ted's!" "now don't start that again," warned mother martin, playfully shaking her finger at the two children. "be nice now. amuse yourselves in some quiet way. it will soon be time to go to bed. you must be tired. be nice now." "come on, let's go for a walk," proposed jan again, and ted, now that the forget-memory dispute was over, was willing to be friendly and kind and go with his sister. so while trouble climbed up into his mother's lap, and the older folks were talking among themselves, the two curlytops, not being noticed by the others, slipped off the porch and walked toward the ranch buildings, out near the corrals, or the fenced-in places, where the horses were kept. there were too many horses to keep them all penned in, or fenced around, just as there are too many cattle on a cattle ranch. but the cowboys who do not want their horses which they ride to get too far away put them in a corral. this is just as good as a barn, except in cold weather. "there's lots of things to see here," said teddy, as he and his sister walked along. "yes," she agreed. "it's lots of fun. i'm glad i came." "so'm i. oh, look at the lots of ponies!" she cried, as she and ted turned a corner of one of the ranch buildings and came in sight of a new corral. in it were a number of little horses, some of which hung their heads over the fence and watched the curlytops approaching. "i'd like to ride one," sighed teddy wistfully. "oh, you mustn't!" cried jan. "uncle frank wouldn't like it, nor mother or father, either. you have to ask first." "oh, i don't mean ride now," said ted. "anyhow, i haven't got a saddle." "can't you ride without a saddle?" asked janet. "well, not very good i guess," ted answered. "a horse's back has a bone in the middle of it, and that bumps you when you don't have a saddle." "how do you know?" asked janet. "i know, 'cause once the milkman let me sit on his horse and i felt the bone in his back. it didn't feel good." "maybe the milkman's horse was awful bony." "he was," admitted ted. "but anyhow you've got to have a saddle to ride a horse, lessen you're a indian and i'm not." "well, maybe after a while uncle frank'll give you a saddle," said janet. "maybe," agreed her brother, "oh, see how the ponies look at us!" "and one's following us all around," added his sister. for the little horses had indeed all come to the side of the corral fence nearest the curlytops, and were following along as the children walked. "what do you s'pose they want?" asked teddy. "maybe they're hungry," answered janet. "let's pull some grass for 'em," suggested teddy, and they did this, feeding it to the horses that stretched their necks over the top rail of the fence and chewed the green bunches as if they very much liked their fodder. but after a while jan and ted tired of even this. and no wonder--there were so many horses, and they all seemed to like the grass so much that the children never could have pulled enough for all of them. "look at that one always pushing the others out of the way," said janet, pointing to one pony, larger than the others, who was always first at the fence, and first to reach his nose toward the bunches of grass. "and there's a little one that can't get any," said her brother. "i'd like to give him some, jan." "so would i. but how can we? every time i hold out some grass to him the big horse takes it." teddy thought for a minute and then he said: "i know what we can do to keep the big horse from getting it all." "what?" asked janet. "we can both pull some grass. then you go to one end of the fence, and hold out your bunch. the big horse will come to get it and push the others away, like he always does." "but then the little pony won't get any," janet said. "oh, yes, he will!" cried teddy. "'cause when you're feeding the big horse i'll run up and give the _little_ horse my bunch. then he'll have some all by himself." and this the curlytops did. when the big horse was chewing the grass janet gave him, ted held out some to the little horse at the other end of the corral, and he ate it, but only just in time, for the big pony saw what was going on and trotted up to shove the small animal out of the way. but it was too late. then janet and teddy walked on a little further, until janet said it was growing late and they had better go back to the porch where the others were still talking. evening was coming on. the sun had set, but there was still a golden glow in the sky. far off in one of the big fields a number of horses and cattle could be seen, and riding out near them were some of the cowboys who, after their supper, had gone out to see that all was well for the night. "is all this your land, uncle frank!" asked teddy as he stood on the porch and looked over the fields. "yes, as far as you can see, and farther. if you curlytops get lost, which i hope you won't, you'll have to go a good way to get off my ranch. but let me tell you now, not to go too far away from the house, unless your father or some of us grown folks are with you." "why?" asked janet. "well, you _might_ get lost, you know, and then--oh, well, don't go off by yourselves, that's all," and uncle frank turned to answer a question daddy martin asked him. ted and janet wondered why they could not go off by themselves as they had done at cherry farm. "maybe it's because of the indians," suggested jan. "pooh, i'm not afraid of them," teddy announced. just then one of the cowboys--later the children learned he was jim mason, the foreman--came walking up to the porch. he walked in a funny way, being more used to going along on a horse than on his own feet. "good evening, folks!" he said, taking off his hat and waving it toward the curlytops and the others. "hello, jim!" was uncle frank's greeting. "everything all right?" "no, it isn't, i'm sorry to say," answered the foreman. "i've got bad news for you, mr. barton!" chapter viii a queer noise the curlytops looked at the ranch foreman as he said this. uncle frank looked at him, too. the foreman stood twirling his big hat around in his hand. teddy looked at the big revolver--"gun" the cowboys called it--which dangled from jim mason's belt. "bad news, is it?" asked uncle frank. "i'm sorry to hear that. i hope none of the boys is sick. nobody been shot, has there, during the celebration?" "oh, no, the boys are all right," answered the foreman. "but it's bad news about some of your ponies--a lot of them you had out on grass over there," and he pointed to the west--just where ted and janet could not see. "bad news about the ponies?" repeated uncle frank. "well, now, i'm sorry to hear that. some of 'em sick?" "not as i know of," replied jim. "but a lot of 'em have been taken away--stolen, i guess i'd better call it." "a lot of my ponies stolen?" cried uncle frank, jumping up from his chair. "that is bad news! when did it happen? why don't you get the cowboys together and chase after the men who took the ponies?" "well, i would have done that if i knew where to go," said the foreman. "but i didn't hear until a little while ago, when one of the cowboys i sent to see if the ponies were all right came in. he got there to find 'em all gone, so i came right over to tell you." "well, we'll have to see about this!" exclaimed uncle frank. "who's the cowboy you sent to see about the ponies?" "henry jensen. he just got in a little while ago, after a hard ride." "and who does he think took the horses?" "he said it looked as if the indians had done it!" and at these words from the foreman ted and janet looked at one another with widely opened eyes. "indians?" said uncle frank. "why, i didn't think any of them had come off their reservation." "some of 'em must have," the foreman went on. "they didn't have any ponies of their own, i guess, so they took yours and rode off on 'em." "well, this is too bad!" said uncle frank in a low voice. "i guess we'll have to get our boys together and chase after these indians," he went on. "yes, that's what i'll do. i've got to get back my ponies." "oh, can't i come?" cried teddy, not understanding all that was going on, but enough to know that his uncle was going somewhere with the cowboys, and teddy wanted to go, too. "oh, i'm afraid you couldn't come--curlytop," said the foreman, giving teddy the name almost everyone called him at first sight, and this was the first time jim mason had seen teddy. "no, you little folks must stay at home," added uncle frank. "are you really going after indians?" teddy wanted to know. "yes, to find out if they took any of my ponies. you see," went on uncle frank, speaking to daddy and mother martin as well as to the curlytops, "the indians are kept on what is called a 'reservation' that is, the government gives them certain land for their own and they are told they must stay there, though once in a while some of them come off to sell blankets and bark-work at the railroad stations. "and, sometimes, maybe once a year, a lot of the indians get tired of staying on the reservation and some of them will get together and run off. sometimes they ride away on their own horses, and again they may take some from the nearest ranch. i guess this time they took some of mine." "and how will you catch them?" asked mrs. martin. "oh, we'll try to find out which way they went and then we'll follow after them until we catch them and get back the ponies." "it's just like hide-and-go-seek, isn't it, uncle frank?" asked janet. "yes, something like that but it takes longer." "i wish i could go to hunt the indians!" murmured teddy. "why, the-o-dore mar-tin!" exclaimed his mother. "i'm _surprised_ at you!" "well, i would like to go," he said. "could i go if i knew how to ride a pony, uncle frank?" "well, i don't know. i'm afraid you're too little. but, speaking of riding a pony, to-morrow i'll have one of the cowboys start in to teach you and janet to ride. now i guess i'll have to go see this henry jensen and ask him about the indians and my stolen ponies." "i hope he gets them back," said teddy to his sister. "so do i," she agreed. "and i hope those indians don't come here." "pooh! they're tame indians!" exclaimed teddy. "they must be kind of wild when they steal ponies," janet said. a little later the curlytops and trouble went to bed, for they had been up early that day. they fell asleep almost at once, even though their bed was not moving along in a railroad train, as it had been the last three or four nights. "did uncle frank find his ponies?" asked teddy the next morning at the breakfast table. "no, curlytop," answered aunt millie. "he and some of the cowboys have gone over to the field where the ponies were kept to see if they can get any news of them." "can we learn to ride a pony to-day?" asked janet. "as soon as uncle frank comes back," answered her father. "you and ted and trouble play around the house now as much as you like. when uncle frank comes back he'll see about getting a pony for you to ride." "come on!" called ted to his sister after breakfast. "we'll have some fun." "i come, too!" called trouble. "i wants a wide! i wish we had nicknack." "it would be fun if we had our goat here, wouldn't it?" asked janet of her brother. "yes, but i'd rather have a pony. i'm going to be a cowboy, and you can't be a cowboy and ride a _goat_." "no, i s'pose not," said janet. "but a goat isn't so high up as a pony, ted, and if you fall off a goat's back you don't hurt yourself so much." "i'm not going to fall off," declared teddy. the children wandered about among the ranch buildings, looking in the bunk house where the cowboys slept. there was only one person in there, and he was an old man to be called a "boy," thought janet. but all men, whether young or old, who look after the cattle on a ranch, are called "cowboys" so age does not matter. "howdy," said this cowboy with a cheerful smile, as the curlytops looked in at him. he was mending a broken strap to his saddle. "where'd you get that curly hair?" he asked. "i lost some just like that. wonder if you got mine?" janet hardly knew what to make of this, but teddy said: "no, sir. this is _our_ hair. it's fast to our heads and we've had it a long time." "it was always curly this way," added janet. "oh, was it? well, then it can't be mine," said the cowboy with a laugh. "mine was curly only when i was a baby, and that was a good many years ago. are you going to live here?" "we're going to stay all summer," janet said. "do you live here?" "well, yes; as much as anywhere." "could you show us where the indians are that took uncle frank's ponies?" teddy demanded. "wish i could!" exclaimed the cowboy. "if i knew, i'd go after 'em myself and get the ponies back. i guess those indians are pretty far away from here by now." "do they hide?" asked teddy. "yes, they may hide away among the hills and wait for a chance to sell the ponies they stole from your uncle. but don't worry your curly heads about indians. have a good time here. it seems good to see little children around a place like this." "have you got a lasso?" asked teddy. "you mean my rope? course i got one--every cowboy has," was the answer. "i wish you'd lasso something," went on teddy, who had once been to see a wild west show. "all right, i'll do a little rope work for you," said the cowboy, with a good-natured smile. "just wait until i mend my saddle." in a little while he came riding into the yard in front of the bunk house on a lively little pony. he made the animal race up and down and, while doing this, the cowboy swung his coiled rope, or lasso, about his head, and sent it in curling rings toward posts and benches, hauling the latter after him by winding the rope around the horn of his saddle after he had lassoed them. "say! that's fine!" cried teddy with glistening eyes. "i'm going to learn how to lasso." "i'll show you after a while," the cowboy offered. "you can't learn too young. but i must go now." "could i just have a little ride on your pony's back?" asked teddy. "to be sure you could," cried the cowboy. "here you go!" he leaped from the saddle and lifted teddy up to it, while janet and trouble looked on in wonder. then holding ted to his seat by putting an arm around him, while he walked beside the pony and guided it, the cowboy gave the little fellow a ride, much to teddy's delight. "hurray!" he called to janet "i'm learning to be a cowboy!" "that's right--you are!" laughed daddy martin, coming out just then. "how do you like it?" "dandy!" teddy said. "come on. janet!" "yes, we ought to have let the ladies go first," said the cowboy. "but i didn't know whether the leetle gal cared for horses," he went on to mr. martin. "i like horses," admitted janet. "but maybe i'll fall off." "i won't let you," the cowboy answered, as he lifted her to the saddle. then he led the pony around with her on his back, and janet liked it very much. "i wants a wide, too!" cried trouble. "hi! that's so! mustn't forget you!" laughed the cowboy, and he held baby william in the saddle, much to the delight of that little fellow. "now you mustn't bother any more," said daddy martin. "you children have had fun enough. you'll have more pony-back rides later." "yes, i'll have to go now," the cowboy said, and, leaping into the saddle, he rode away in a cloud of dust. the curlytops and trouble wandered around among the ranch buildings. daddy martin, seeing that the children were all right, left them to themselves. "i'se hungry," said trouble, after a bit. "so'm i," added teddy. "do you s'pose that funny chinaman would give us a cookie, jan?" "chinamen don't know how to make cookies." "well, maybe they know how to make something just as good. let's go around to the cook house--that's what aunt millie calls it." the cook house was easy to find, for from it came a number of good smells, and, as they neared it, the curlytops saw the laughing face of the chinese cook peering out at them. "lil' gal hungly--li' boy hungly?" asked hop sing in his funny talk. "got any cookies?" inquired teddy. "no glot clooklies--glot him clake," the chinese answered. "what does he say?" asked janet of her brother. "i guess he means cake," whispered teddy, and that was just what hop sing did mean. he brought out some nice cake on a plate and trouble and the curlytops had as much as was good for them, if not quite all they wanted. "glood clake?" asked hop sing, when nothing but the crumbs were left--and not many of them. "i guess he means was it good cake," then whispered janet to her little brother. "yes, it was fine and good!" exclaimed teddy. "thank you." "you mluch welclome--clome some mo'!" laughed hop sing, as the children moved away. they spent the morning playing about the ranch near the house. they made a sea-saw from a board and a barrel, and played some of the games they had learned on cherry farm or while camping with grandpa martin. then dinner time came, but uncle frank and the cowboys did not come back to it. "won't they be hungry?" asked teddy. "oh, they took some bacon, coffee and other things with them," said aunt millie. "they often have to camp out for days at a time." "say, i wish i could do that!" cried teddy. "wait until you get to be a cowboy," advised his father. that afternoon trouble went to lie down with his mother to have a nap, and teddy and janet wandered off by themselves, promising not to go too far away from the house. but the day was so pleasant, and it was so nice to walk over the soft grass that, before they knew it, teddy and janet had wandered farther than they meant to. as the land was rolling--here hills and there hollows--they were soon out of sight of the ranch buildings, but they were not afraid, as they knew by going to a high part of the prairie they could see their way back home--or they thought they could. there were no woods around them, though there were trees and a little stream of water farther off. suddenly, as the curlytops were walking along together, they came to a place where there were a lot of rocks piled up in a sort of shelter. indeed one place looked as though it might be a cave. and as teddy and janet were looking at this they heard a strange noise, which came from among the rocks. both children stopped and stood perfectly still for a moment. "did you hear that?" asked jan, clasping her brother's arm. "yes--i did," he answered. "did--did it sound like some one groaning?" she went on. teddy nodded his head to show that it had sounded that way to him. just then the noise came again. "oh!" exclaimed janet, starting to run. "maybe it's an indian! oh, teddy, come on!" chapter ix the sick pony teddy martin did not run away as jan started to leave the pile of rocks from which the queer sound had come. instead he stood still and looked as hard as he could toward the hole among the stones--a hole that looked a little like the cave on star island, but not so large. "come on, teddy!" begged janet. "please come!" "i want to see what it is," he answered. "maybe it's something that--that'll bite you," suggested the little girl. "come on!" just then the noise sounded again. it certainly was a groan. "there!" exclaimed janet. "i _know_ it's an indian, ted! maybe it's one of the kind that took uncle frank's ponies. oh, please come!" she had run on a little way from the pile of rocks, but now she stood still, waiting for teddy to follow. "come on!" she begged. janet did not want to go alone. "it can't be an indian," said teddy, looking around but still not seeing anything to make that strange sound. "it could so be an indian!" declared janet. "well, maybe a sick indian," teddy admitted. "and if he's as sick as all that i'm not afraid of him! i'm going to see what it is." "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried janet, much as she sometimes heard her mother use her brother's name. "don't you dare!" "why not?" asked teddy, who tried to speak very bravely, though he really did not feel brave. but he was not going to show that before janet, who was a girl. "why can't i see what that is?" "'cause maybe--maybe it'll--bite you!" and as janet said this she looked first at the rocks and then over her shoulder, as though something might come up behind her when she least expected it. "pooh! i'm not afraid!" declared teddy. "anyhow, if it does bite me it's got to come out of the rocks first." "well, maybe it will come out." "if it does i can see it and run!" went on the little boy. "would you run and leave me all alone?" asked janet. "nope! course i wouldn't do _that_," teddy declared. "i'd run and i'd help you run. but i don't guess anything'll bite me. anyhow, indians don't bite." "how do you know?" asked janet. "some indians are wild. i heard uncle frank say so, and wild things bite!" "but not indians," insisted teddy. "a indian's mouth, even if he is wild, is just like ours, and it isn't big enough to bite. you've got to have an awful big mouth to bite." "henry watson bit you once, i heard mother say so," declared janet, as she and her brother still stood by the rocks and listened again for the funny sound to come from the stones. but there was silence. "well, henry watson's got an awful big mouth," remarked teddy. "maybe he's wild, and that's the reason." "he couldn't be an indian, could he?" janet went on. "course not!" declared her brother. "he's a boy, same as i am, only his mouth's bigger. that's why he bit me. i 'member it now." "did it hurt?" asked janet. "yep," answered her brother. "but i'm going in there and see what that noise was. it won't hurt me." teddy began to feel that janet was asking so many questions in order that he might forget all about what he intended to do. and he surely did want to see what was in among the rocks. once more he went closer to them, and then the noise sounded more loudly than before. it came so suddenly that teddy and janet jumped back, and there was no doubt but what they were both frightened. "oh, i'm not going to stay here another minute!" cried janet. "come on, ted, let's go home!" "no, wait just a little!" he begged. "i'll go in and come right out again--that is if it's anything that bites. if it isn't you can come in with me." "no, i'm not going to do that!" and janet shook her head very decidedly to say "no!" once more she looked over her shoulder. "well, you don't have to come in," teddy said. "i'll go alone. i'm not scared." just then janet looked across the fields, and she saw a man riding along on a pony. "oh, teddy!" she called to her brother. "here's a man! we can get him to go in and see what it is." teddy looked to where his sister pointed. surely enough, there was a man going along. he was quite a distance off, but the curlytops did not mind that. they were fond of walking. "holler at him!" advised janet. "he'll hear us and come to help us find out what's in here." teddy raised his voice in the best shout he knew how to give. he had strong lungs and was one of the loudest-shouting boys among his chums. "hey, mister! come over here!" cried teddy. but the man kept on as if he had not heard, as indeed he had not. for on the prairies the air is so clear that people and things look much nearer than they really are. so, though the man seemed to be only a little distance away, he was more than a mile off, and you know it is quite hard to call so as to be heard a mile away; especially if you are a little boy. still teddy called again, and when he had done this two or three times, and jan had helped him, the two calling in a sort of duet, teddy said: "he can't hear us." "maybe he's deaf, like aunt judy," said janet, speaking of an elderly woman in the town in which they lived. "well, if he is, he can't hear us," said teddy; "so he won't come to us. i'm going in anyhow." "no, don't," begged janet, who did not want her brother to go into danger. "if he can't hear us, teddy, we must go nearer. we can walk to meet him." teddy thought this over a minute. "yes," he agreed, "we can do that. but he's a good way off." "he's coming this way," janet said, and it did look as though the man had turned his horse toward the children, who stood near the pile of rocks from which the queer noises came. "come on!" decided ted, and, taking janet's hand, he and she walked toward the man on the horse. for some little time the two curlytops tramped over the green, grassy prairies. they kept their eyes on the man, now and then looking back toward the rocks, for they did not want to lose sight either of them or of the horseman. "i'm going to holler again," said teddy. "maybe he can hear me now. we're nearer." so he stopped, and putting his hands to his mouth, as he had seen uncle frank do when he wanted to call to a cowboy who was down at a distant corral, the little boy called: "hi there, mr. man! come here, please!" but the man on the horse gave no sign that he had heard. as a matter of fact, he had not, being too far away, and the wind was blowing from him toward teddy and jan. if the wind had been blowing the other way it might have carried the voices of the children toward the man. but it did not. then teddy made a discovery. he stopped, and, shading his eyes with his hands, said: "jan, that man's going away from us 'stid of coming toward us. he's getting littler all the while. and if he was coming to us he'd get bigger." "yes, i guess he would," admitted the little girl. "he is going away, teddy. oh, dear! now he can't help us!" without a word teddy started back toward the rocks, and his sister followed. he was close to them when janet spoke again. "what are you going to do?" she asked. "i'm going in there and see what that noise was," teddy replied. "oh, you mustn't!" she cried, hoping to turn him away. but teddy answered: "yes, i am, too! i'm going to see what it is!" "i'm not!" cried janet. "i'm going home. you'd better come with me!" but, though she turned away and went a short distance from the rocks in the direction she thought the ranch house of ring rosy ranch should be, she very soon stopped. she did not like going on alone. she looked back at ted. teddy had walked a little way toward the hole in the rocks. now he called to his sister. "the noise comes from in here," he said. "it's in this little cave." "are you going in?" asked janet, trying to pretend she was not afraid. "i want to see what made that noise," declared teddy. since he and his sister had gone camping with grandpa martin they were braver than they used to be. of course, ted, being a year older than his sister, was a little bolder than she was. janet, not feeling that she ought to run on home and leave teddy there and yet not feeling brave enough to go close to the cave among the rocks with him, hardly knew what to do. she walked back a little way and then, suddenly, the noise came, more loudly than at first. "oh, there it goes again!" cried janet, once more running back. "i heard it," teddy said. "it didn't war-whoop like an indian." "if he's sick he couldn't," explained janet. "and if he's sick he can't hurt us," went on teddy. "i'm going to holler at him and see what he wants." "you'd better come back and tell daddy or uncle frank," suggested janet. teddy rather thought so himself, but he did not like to give up once he had started anything. he felt it would be a fine thing if he, all alone, could find one of the indians. "and maybe it is one of those who took uncle frank's ponies," thought teddy to himself. again the groan sounded, this time not quite so loud, and after it had died away teddy called: "who's in there? what's the matter with you?" no answer came to this. then ted added: "if you don't come out i'm going to tell my uncle on you. he owns this ranch. come on out! who are you?" this time there came a different sound. it was one that the curlytops knew well, having heard it before. "that's a horse whinnying!" cried teddy. "or a pony," added janet. "yes, it did sound like that. oh, ted, maybe it's a poor horse in there and he can't get out!" she went on. again came the whinny of a horse or a pony. there was no mistake about it this time. "come on!" cried teddy. "we've got to get him out, janet. he's one of uncle frank's cow ponies and he's hurt in that cave. we've got to get him out!" "but how can you?" janet inquired. "it's an awful little cave, and i don't believe a pony could get in there." "a little pony could," said teddy. janet looked at the cave. she remembered that she had seen some quite small ponies, not only on ring rosy ranch but elsewhere. the cave would be large enough for one of them. "i'm going in," said teddy, as he stood at the mouth of the hole among the piled-up rocks. "he might kick you," warned janet. "if he's sick enough to groan that way he can't kick very hard," replied teddy. "anyhow, i'll keep out of the way of his feet. that's all you've got to do, uncle frank says, when you go around a strange horse. when he gets to know you he won't kick." "well, you'd better be careful," warned janet again. "don't you want to come in?" teddy asked his sister. "i--i guess not," she answered. "i'll watch you here. oh, maybe if it's a pony we can have him for ours, teddy!" she exclaimed. "maybe," he agreed. "i'm going to see what it is." slowly he walked to the dark place amid the rocks. the whinnyings and groanings sounded plainer to him than to janet, and teddy was sure they came from a horse or a pony. as yet, though, he could see nothing. then, as the little boy stepped out of the glaring sun into the shadow cast by the rocks, he began to see better. and in a little while his eyes became used to the gloom. then he could see, lying down on the dirt floor of the cave amid the rocks, the form of a pony. the animal raised its head as teddy came in and gave a sort of whinnying call, followed by a groan. "poor pony!" called ted. "are you hurt? i'm so sorry! i'll go get a doctor for you!" "who are you talking to?" asked janet. she had drawn nearer the cave. "there's a sick pony in here all right," teddy told his sister. "come on in and look." "i--i don't b'lieve i want to." "pooh! he can't hurt you! he's sick!" cried teddy. so, after waiting a half minute, janet went in. in a little while she, too, could see the pony lying down in the cave. "oh, the poor thing!" she cried. "teddy, we've got to help him!" "course we have," he said. "we've got to go for a doctor." "and get him a drink," added janet. "when anybody's sick--a pony or anybody--they want a drink. let's find some water, teddy. we can bring it to him in our hats!" then, leaving the sick pony in the cave, the curlytops ran out to look for water. chapter x a surprised doctor water is not very plentiful on the prairies. in fact, it is so scarce that often men and horses get very thirsty. but the curlytops were lucky in finding a spring among the rocks on ring rosy ranch. it was not a very large spring, and it was well hidden among the big stones, which, is, perhaps, why it was not visited by many of the ponies and cattle. they come in large numbers to every water-hole they can find. jan and ted, having come out of the dark cave-like hole, where the poor, sick pony lay, began their search for water, and, as i have said, they were lucky in finding some. it was jan who discovered it. as the curlytops were running about among the rocks the little girl stopped suddenly and called: "hark, teddy!" "what is it?" he asked. "i hear water dripping," she answered. "it's over this way." she went straight to the spring, following the sound of the dripping water, and found where it bubbled up in a split in the rock. the water fell into a little hollow, rocky basin and there was enough for ted and his sister to fill their hats. first they each took a drink themselves, though, for the day was warm. their hats were of felt, and would hold water quite well. and as the hats were old ones, which had been worn in the rain more than once, dipping them into the spring would not hurt them. "i guess the pony'll be awful glad to get a drink," said jan to her brother. "i guess he will," he answered, as he walked along looking carefully where he put down his feet, for he did not want to stumble and spill the water in his hat. "look out!" exclaimed janet, as her brother came too close to her. "if you bump against me and make my arm jiggle you'll spill my hatful." "i'll be careful," said teddy. they spilled some of the water, for their hats were not as good as pails in which to carry the pony's drink. but they managed to get to the cave with most of it. "you can give him the first drink," said teddy to his sister. "i found him, and he's my pony, but you can give him the first drink." janet felt that this was kind on teddy's part, but still she did not quite like what he said about the pony. "is he going to be _all_ yours?" she asked. "well, didn't i find him?'' "yes, but when i found a penny once and bought a lollypop, i gave you half of it." "yes, you did," admitted teddy, thinking of that time. "but i can't give you half the pony, can i?" "no, i guess not. but you could let me ride on him." "oh, i'll do that!" exclaimed teddy quickly. he was thinking it would be a hard matter to divide a live pony in half. "course i'll let you ride on him!" he went on. "we'll get uncle frank to let us have a saddle and some of the cowboys can teach us to ride. and i'll let you feed and water him as much as you like. i'm going to call him clipclap." "that's a funny name," remarked janet. "it's how his feet sound when he runs," explained teddy. "don't you know--clip-clap, clip-clap!" and he imitated the sound of a pony as best he could. "oh, yes!" exclaimed janet. "they do go that way." "i haven't heard this one run," added teddy, "'cause he's sick and he can't gallop. but i guess his feet would make that sound, so i'm going to call him clipclap." "it's a nice name," agreed janet. "but i guess we better give him a drink now. he must be awful thirsty." "he is," said teddy. "hear him groan?" the pony was again making a noise that did sound like a groan. he must be in pain the children thought. "go on--give him your drink, janet," urged teddy. "then i'll give him mine." janet was afraid no longer. she went into the cave ahead of her brother, and as the pony was lying down janet had to kneel in front of him with her hat full of water--no, it was not full, for some had spilled out, but there was still a little in it. the pony smelled the water when janet was yet a little way from him, and raised his head and part of his body by his forefeet. though clear, cold water has no smell to us, animals can smell it sometimes a long way off, and can find their way to it when their masters would not know where to go for a drink. "oh, see how glad he is to get it!" exclaimed janet, as the pony eagerly sucked up from her hat the water in it. the little animal drank very fast, as if he had been without water a long while. "now give him yours, teddy," janet called to her brother, and he kneeled down and let the pony drink from his hat. "i guess he wants more," janet said as the sick animal sucked up the last drops from teddy's hat. "it wasn't very much." "we'll get more!" teddy decided. "then we'll go for a doctor." "where'll we find one?" janet asked. "i know where to find him," teddy answered. once more the children went back to the spring and again they filled their soft hats. and once more the pony greedily drank up the last drops of water. as he finished that in ted's hat he dropped back again and stretched out as if very tired. "oh, i hope he doesn't die!" exclaimed janet. "so do i," added her brother. "i'd like to have a ride on him when he gets well. come on, we'll go find the doctor." shaking the water drops from their hats the curlytops put them on and went out of the cave into the sunlight. led by teddy, janet followed to the top of the pile of rocks. "do you see that white house over there?" asked teddy, pointing to one down the road that led past the buildings of ring rosy ranch. "yes, i see it," janet answered. "that's the place where the doctor lives," went on ted. "how do you know?" demanded janet. "'cause i heard uncle frank say so. mother asked where a doctor lived, and uncle frank showed her that white house. i was on the porch and i heard him. he said if ever we needed a doctor we only had to go there and doctor bond would come right away. he's the only doctor around here." "then we'd better get him for our pony clipclap!" exclaimed janet. "come on, teddy." "if we had our goat-wagon we could ride," said the little boy, as they walked along over the prairie together. "but i guess we've got to walk now." "is it very far?" asked janet. "no, not very far. i've never been there, but you can easy see it." truly enough the white house of doctor bond was in plain sight, but on the prairies the air is so clear that distant houses look nearer than they really are. so, though ted and janet thought they would be at the doctor's in about ten minutes, they were really half an hour in reaching the place. they saw the doctor's brass sign on his house. "i hope he's in," said teddy. as it happened doctor bond was in, and he came to the door himself when teddy rang the bell, mrs. bond being out in the chicken part of the yard. "well, children, what can i do for you?" asked doctor bond with a pleasant smile, as he saw the curlytops on his porch. "if you please," began teddy, "will you come and cure clipclap?" "will i come and cure him? well, i will do my best. i can't be sure i'll cure him, though, until i know what the matter is. what seems to be the trouble?" "he's awful sick," said janet, "and he groans awful." "hum! he must have some pain then." "we gave him some cold water," added teddy. "yes? well, maybe that was a good thing and maybe it wasn't. i can't tell until i see him. who did you say it was?" "clipclap," replied teddy. "your little brother?" "no, sir. he's a pony and he's in a cave!" exclaimed teddy. "what? a pony?" cried the surprised doctor. "in a cave?" "yes," went on janet. "we gave him water in our hats, and he's going to be ted's and mine 'cause ted found him. but will you please come and cure him so we can have a ride on him? don't let him die." "well," exclaimed doctor bond, smiling in a puzzled way at the children, "i don't believe i can come. i don't know anything about curing sick ponies. you need a horse doctor for that." ted and janet looked at one another, not knowing what to say. chapter xi trouble makes a lasso doctor bond must have seen how disappointed teddy and janet were, for he spoke very kindly as he asked: "who are you, and where are you from? tell me about this sick pony with the funny name." "he is clipclap," answered teddy, giving the name he had picked out for his new pet. "and we are the curlytops." "yes, i can see that all right," laughed the doctor with a look at the crisp hair of the little boy and girl. "but where do you live?" "at uncle frank's ranch," janet answered. "you mean mr. frank barton, of the circle o?" the doctor inquired. "yes, only we call it the ring rosy ranch now, and so does he," explained teddy. "the ring rosy ranch, is it? well, i don't know but what that is a good name for it. now tell me about yourselves and this pony." this teddy and janet did by turns, relating how they had come out west from cresco, and what good times they were having. they even told about having gone to cherry farm, about camping with grandpa martin and about being snowed in. "well, you have had some nice adventures!" exclaimed doctor bond. "now about this sick--" "is some one ill?" enquired mrs. bond, coming in from the chicken yard just then, in time to hear her husband's last words, "who is it?" on the western prairies when one neighbor hears of another's illness he or she wants to help in every way there is. so mrs. bond, hearing that some one was ill, wanted to do her share. "it's a pony," her husband said with a smile. "a pony!" she exclaimed. "yes, these curlytop children found one in the cave among the rocks. it's on circle o ranch--i should say ring rosy," and the doctor gave uncle frank's place the new name. "these are mr. barton's nephew's children," he went on, for ted and janet had told the doctor that it was their father's uncle, and not theirs, at whose home they were visiting. though, as a matter of fact, ted and janet thought uncle frank was as much theirs as he was their father's and, very likely, uncle frank thought so himself. "can't you come and cure the sick pony?" asked teddy. "he's groaning awful hard," went on janet. "well, my dear curlytops," said doctor bond with a smile, "i'd like to come, but, as i said, i don't know anything about curing sick horses or animals. i never studied that. it takes a doctor who knows about them to give them the right kind of medicine." "i thought all medicine was alike," said teddy. "what our doctor gives us is always bitter." "well, all medicine isn't bitter," laughed doctor bond, "though some very good kinds are. however, i wouldn't know whether to give this clipclap pony bitter or sweet medicine." "maybe you could ask one of the cowboys," said janet. "i heard mr. mason--jim, uncle frank calls him--telling how he cured a sick horse once." "oh, yes, your uncle's foreman, jim mason, knows a lot about horses," said doctor bond. "then why don't you go with the children and get jim to help you find out what the matter is with their pony?" suggested mrs. bond. "there isn't a regular veterinary around here, and they don't want to see their pet suffer. go along with them.'' "i believe i will," said doctor bond. "i could perhaps tell what's the matter with the pony, and if i've got any medicine that might cure it, jim would know how to give it--i wouldn't." "we just found the pony in the cave," explained teddy. "we were taking a walk and we heard him groan." "oh, i see," said mrs. bond. "well, i hope the doctor can make him well for you," she went on, as her husband hurried back into the house to get ready for the trip. he had a small automobile, and in this he and the children were soon hurrying along the road toward ring rosy ranch. it was decided to go there first instead of to the cave where the pony was. "we'll get jim mason and take him back with us," said the doctor. uncle frank and his cowboys had come back from looking after the lost ponies, but had not found them. he, as well as mr. and mrs. martin, were very much surprised when the curlytops came riding up to the ranch in doctor bond's automobile. "well, where in the world have you been?" cried mother martin. "we were just beginning to get worried about you children. where were you?" "we found a pony!" cried janet. "and he's sick!" added teddy. "and his name is clipclap!" exclaimed the little girl. "and he's mine but janet can have half of him, and we got him water in our hats," came from teddy. "and we got the doctor, too!" went on his sister. "well, i should say you'd put in quite a busy day," chuckled uncle frank. "now let's hear more about it." so the curlytops told, and doctor bond said, even if he was not a horse doctor, he'd go out and look at the pony in the cave, if the ranch foreman would come with him. "of course i'll come!" cried jim mason. "i wouldn't want to see any pony suffer. and i've doctored quite a few of 'em, even if i don't know much about medicine. come on, curlytops!" jim mason jumped on his own swift pony, saying he could make as good time over the rough prairie as doctor bond could in his automobile. the curlytops rode in the machine with the physician. uncle frank and daddy martin went along, for they, too, were interested in the sick pony. it did not take long to get to the cave amid the rocks. jim mason's horse reached there ahead of the automobile, and the foreman had gone into the cave and come out again by the time the curlytops were getting out of the machine. "well, he's a pretty sick pony all right," said the foreman of the cowboys of ring rosy ranch. "can you make him better?" asked teddy anxiously. "i don't know whether we can or not. it all depends on what sort of medicine the doctor has for curing poison." "has the pony been poisoned?" asked uncle frank. "looks that way," replied the foreman. "i guess he must have drunk some water that had a bit of poisoned meat in it. you see," he went on to the doctor, mr. martin and the children, "we have a lot of wolves and other pesky animals around here. they're too tricky to catch in traps or shoot, so we poison 'em by putting a white powder in some meat. sometimes the wolves will drag a piece of the poisoned meat to a spring of water, and they must have done it this time. then the pony drank the water and it made him sick." "will he die?" asked janet. "well, i'll do my best to save him," said doctor bond, opening the black case of medicines he carried. "but how can you give medicine to a horse, jim? you can't put it on his tongue, can you?" "no, but i've got a long-necked bottle on purpose for that, and it's easy to pour it out of that bottle down a pony's throat. you mix up the dose, doc, and i'll give it to the little animal." this was done, but the curlytops were not allowed in the cave when the men were working over the pony. but, in a little while, the foreman and doctor bond came out. "well, i guess your pony will get better," said the physician. "jim gave him the medicine that will get the poison out of him, and in a day or so he'll be able to walk. but you'll have to leave him in the cave until then." "can't we take him home?" teddy cried. "oh, no!" exclaimed the foreman. "but i'll send one of the men over with some straw to make him a soft bed, and we'll see that he has water to drink. he won't want anything to eat until he gets better. the doctor will come to see him to-morrow. won't you?" he went on to doctor bond. "indeed i will!" promised the doctor, for he had taken a great liking to the curlytops. "whose pony is it?" asked daddy martin. "it's mine!" exclaimed teddy quickly. "mine and jan's. we found him and his name's clipclap." "well, that's a good name for a pony," said his father. "but still i don't know that you can claim every pony you find. this one may belong to uncle frank." "no, it isn't one of my brand," said the owner of ring rosy ranch. "it's a strange pony that must have wandered into this cave after he found he was poisoned. i reckon the poor thing thought he'd die in there, and maybe he would if the children hadn't found him." "he couldn't have lived much longer without attention," said doctor bond. "then did we save his life?" asked teddy. "you did, by getting the doctor in time," answered his father. "then can't he be our pony?" asked the little boy. "yes, i guess he can," answered uncle frank. "if nobody comes to claim him you children may have him. and if anyone does come after him i'll give you another. i was going to give you each a pony, anyhow, as soon as you got used to the ranch, and i'll do it. if ted wants to keep clipclap, as he calls him, i'll give janet another." "oh, won't i just love him!" cried the little girl. "and i'll love clipclap!" said teddy. there was nothing more that could be done just then for the sick pony, so the curlytops and the others left him in the cave. the children were glad he did not groan any more. a little later jim mason sent one of the cowboys with some clean straw to make a bed for the little horse, and a pail of the cool, spring water was put where the animal could reach it. for two days the pony stayed in the cave, and then doctor bond said he was much better and could be led to the ranch. uncle frank took ted and janet out to the rocks to bring back their pet, but he had to walk very slowly, for he was still weak from the poison. "and hell have to stay in the stable for a week or so," said jim mason when clipclap was safely at the ranch. "after that he will be strong enough to ride. while you curlytops are waiting i'll give you a few riding lessons." "and will you show me how to lasso?" begged teddy. "yes, of course. you'll never be a cowboy, as you say you're going to be, unless you can use a rope. i'll show you." so the children's lessons began. uncle frank picked out a gentle pony for them on which to learn how to ride, and this pony was to be jan's. she named him star face, for he had a white mark, like a star, on his forehead. on this pony jan and ted took turns riding until they learned to sit in the saddle alone and let the pony trot along. of course he did not go very fast at first. "and i want to learn to lasso when i'm on his back," said teddy. "you'd first better learn to twirl the rope while you're on the ground," said jim mason, and then the foreman began giving the little boy some simple lessons in this, using a small rope, for teddy could not handle the big ones the cowboys used. in a few days teddy could fling the coils of his rope and make them settle over a post. of course he had to stand quite close, but even the cowboys, when they learned, had to do that the foreman said. "well, what are you going to do now?" teddy's father asked the little boy one day, as he started out from the house with a small coil of rope on one arm, as he had seen the cowboys carry their lariats. "what are you going to do, ted?" "oh, i'm going to lasso some more," was the answer. "why don't you try something else besides a post?" asked one of uncle frank's men, as he, too, noticed teddy. "throwing a rope over a post is all right to start, but if you want to be a real cowboy you'll have to learn to lasso something that's running on its four legs. that's what most of our lassoing is--roping ponies or steers, and they don't very often stand still for you, the way the post does." "yes," agreed ted, "i guess so. i'll learn to lasso something that runs." his father paid little more attention to the boy, except to notice that he went out into the yard, where he was seen, for a time, tossing the coils of rope over the post. then jan came along, and, as soon as he saw her, teddy asked: "jan, will you do something for me?" "what?" she inquired, not being too ready to make any promises. sometimes teddy got her to say she would do things, and then, when he had her promise, he would tell her something she did not at all want to do. so jan had learned to be careful. "what do you want to do, teddy?" she asked. "play cowboy," he answered. "girls can't be cowboys," janet said. "well, i don't want _you_ to be one," went on teddy. "i'll be the cowboy." "then what'll _i_ be?" asked jan. "that won't be any fun, for you to do that and me do nothing!" "oh, i've got something for you to do," said teddy, and he was quite serious over it. "you see, jan, i've got to learn to lasso something that moves. the post won't move, but you can run." "do you mean run and play tag?" jan asked. teddy shook his head. "you make believe you're a wild cow or a pony," he explained, "and you run along in front of me. then i'll throw my rope around your head, or around your legs, and i'll pull on it and you--" "yes, and i'll fall down and get all dirt!" finished jan. "ho! i don't call _that_ any fun for me!" "well, i won't lasso you very hard," promised ted; "and i've got to learn to throw my rope at something that moves, the cowboys say, else i can't ever be a real wild-wester. go on, jan! run along and let me lasso you!" jan did not want to, but teddy teased her so hard that she finally gave in and said she would play she was a pony for a little while. teddy wanted her to be a wild steer, but she said ponies could run faster than the cattle, and jan was a good runner. "and if i run fast it will be harder for you to lasso me," she said, "and that's good practice for you, same as it is good for me when i practice my music scales fast, only i don't do it very much." "well, you run along and i'll lasso you," said teddy. "only we'd better go around to the back of the house. maybe they wouldn't like to see me doing it." "who; the cowboys?" asked his sister. "no, father and mother," replied teddy. "i don't guess they'd want me to play this game, but i won't hurt you. come on." the little boy and girl--teddy carrying his small lasso--went out to a field not far from the house, and there they played cowboy. as they had planned, teddy was the cowboy and janet the wild pony, and she ran around until she was tired. teddy ran after her, now and then throwing the coil of rope at her. sometimes the lasso settled over her head, and then the little boy would pull it tight, but he was careful not to pull too hard for fear he might hurt jan. once the rope went around her legs, and that time teddy gave a sudden yank. "oh, i'm falling!" cried jan, and she went down in a heap. "that's fine!" cried teddy. "that's regular wild-wester cowboy! do it again, jan!" "no! it hurts!" objected the little girl. "you pulled me so hard i fell down." "i didn't mean to," said teddy. "but i can lasso good, can't i?" "yes; pretty good," his sister agreed. "but you can't lasso me any more. i don't want to play. i'm going to the house." "did i hurt you much?" teddy asked. "well, not such an awful lot," admitted jan. "i fell on some soft grass, though, or you would have. anyhow, i'm going in." teddy looked a little sad for a minute, and then he cried: "oh, i know what i can do! you stay and watch me, jan." "what are you going to do?" she asked. "you'll see," he answered "here, you hold my lasso a minute." teddy ran off across the field, and when he came back to where his sister was still holding the coil of rope the curlytop boy was leading by a rope a little calf, one of several that were kept in the stable and fed milk from a pail. "what are you going to do, teddy martin?" asked the little girl. "i'm going to play he's a wild steer," answered teddy. "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried janet, much as her mother might have done. "you're not going to lasso _him,_ are you?" "i am--if i can," and teddy spoke slowly. he was not quite sure he could. the calf came along easily enough, for teddy had petted it and fed it several times. "he's awful nice," said janet. "you won't hurt him, will you?" "course not!" cried teddy. "i'll only lasso him a little. now you come and hold him by the rope that's on his neck, jan. and when i tell you to let go, why, you let go. then he'll run and i can lasso him. i've got to lasso something that's running, else it isn't real wild-wester." jan was ready enough to play this game. she took hold of the calf's rope, and teddy got his lasso ready. but just as the little fellow was about to tell his sister to let the calf loose, along came uncle frank and he saw what was going on. "oh, my, teddy!" cried the ranchman. "you mustn't do that, curlytop! the little calf might fall and break a leg. wait until you get bigger before you try to lasso anything that's alive. come on, we'll have other fun than this. i'm going to drive into town and you curly tops can come with me." so the calf was put back in the stable, and teddy gave up lassoing for that day. he and jan had fun riding to town with uncle frank, who bought them some sticks of peppermint candy. baby william had his own fun on the ranch. his mother took care of him most of the time, leaving janet and teddy to do as they pleased. she wanted them to learn to ride, and she knew they could not do it and take care of their little brother. but trouble had his own ways of having fun. he often watched teddy throwing the lasso, and one afternoon, when ted had finished with his rope and left it lying on a bench near the house, trouble picked up the noose. "me lasso, too," he said to himself. just what he did no one knew, but not long after teddy had laid aside the lariat, as the lasso is sometimes called, loud squawks, crowings and cackles from the chicken yard were heard. "what in the world can be the matter with my hens?" cried aunt millie. ted and janet ran out to see. what they saw made them want to laugh, but they did not like to do it. trouble had lassoed the big rooster! chapter xii the bucking bronco with a small rope around the neck of the crowing rooster--which could not crow as loudly as it had before, because it was nearly choked--trouble was dragging the fowl along after him as he ran across the yard. "trouble! trouble!" cried aunt millie. "what are you doing?" "playin' cowboy!" was his answer. "i lasso rooster wif my rope, like teddy catches post." "oh, you mustn't do that!" cried aunt millie, as she ran after the small boy and the dragging rooster. "cock-a doodle-do!" crowed the rooster, or, rather, it tried to crow that way, but it would get only about half of it out and then trouble would pull the rope tight about the fowl's neck and the crow would be shut off suddenly. "gid-dap, pony!" cried baby william, trotting along on his short, fat legs, making-believe, as he often did, that he was riding horseback. "gid-dap! i lasso a rooster, i did!" "yes, and you'll kill the poor thing if you're not careful," panted aunt millie, as she raced after the little fellow and caught him. then she gently pulled the rooster to her by means of the rope, and took it off the fowl's neck. the rooster was bedraggled from having been dragged through the dust and the dirt, and it was so dizzy from having been whirled around by trouble that it could hardly stand up. aunt millie smoothed out its feathers and got it some water. the rooster drank a little and seemed to feel better. then it ran off to join the other roosters and the cackling hens that had been watching what trouble did, doubtless wondering what had gotten into the lassoed rooster to make it run around the way it did on the end of a rope. but it was baby william who made all the trouble. "you must never do that again," said mrs. martin when she came out of the ranch house and heard what her little boy had done. "that was very wrong, william, to lasso the poor rooster and drag it about with a rope around its neck." "i not do it any more," promised trouble. "but i want a lasso like teddy." "no, you're not big enough for that," his mother said. "you must wait until you are a little older. don't bother the chickens any more." "no, i only get de eggs," promised baby william. "and please don't lasso them, or you'll break them," put in aunt millie; but janet thought her "eyes laughed," as she later told teddy. "no more lasso?" asked trouble, looking at the rope his aunt had taken from the rooster's long neck. "no more lasso!" exclaimed mrs. barton, trying not to smile, for the sight of the rooster, caught the way he had been, made even the older folks want to laugh. ted and janet did laugh, but they did not let trouble see them. if he had he might have thought he had done something smart or cute, and he would try it over again the first chance he had. so they had to pretend to be sharp with him. the rooster was not hurt by being lassoed. afterward trouble told how he did it. with the slip-noose of the rope in one hand and holding the rope's end in the other, baby william walked quietly up behind the rooster and tossed the loop over its head. then he pulled it tight and started to run, as he had seen the cow ponies galloping to pull down a horse or steer that needed to be branded or marked with the sign of the ring rosy ranch. the rooster was very tame, often eating out of aunt millie's hand, so he was not afraid to let trouble come up quite close to him. one day, about a week after the curlytops had found clipclap in the cave, jim mason said he thought the pony was well enough to be ridden. clipclap was brought out in the yard and teddy and janet went up to him. the pony put his nose close to them and rubbed his head against their outstretched hands. "see, he knows us!" cried janet. "and i guess he's thanking us for bringing him water," added her brother. "and getting the doctor to cure him of poison," went on the little girl. "i'm glad he likes you, teddy." "and your pony likes you, too, janet," said the little boy. janet's pony, star face, certainly seemed to like her. for he came when she called him and took lumps of sugar from her hand. he liked teddy, too. in fact both ponies were very pretty and friendly and it would be hard to say which was the better. janet liked hers and teddy liked his, and that is the best thing i can say about them. no one came to claim clipclap. though uncle frank spoke to a number of other ranchmen about finding the sick pony, none of them had ever seen clipclap before as far as they knew. if he belonged to some other ranch it must have been far away. "so you may feel that it is all right for you to keep your pony, curlytop," said uncle frank to teddy. "if anyone should, later, say it belongs to him, and can prove it, we'll give it up, of course." "but i don't want to give clipclap up!" teddy cried. "well, maybe you won't have to," said his father. "but you must not keep what is not yours. anyhow, if you should have to give up clipclap uncle frank will give you another pony." "there couldn't be any as nice as clipclap--not even janet's star face," declared teddy. he felt bad at the thought of having to give up his pet, but there was no need to, for as the weeks went on no one came to claim clipclap, and teddy counted him as his own. by this time teddy and janet had learned to ride quite well for such little children. they knew how to sit in a saddle, up straight like an arrow, and not slouched down or all humped up "like a bag of meal," as uncle frank was wont to say. they knew how to guide their ponies by pulling on the reins to left or to right, according to which way they wanted to go. of course they could not ride very fast yet, and mother martin was just as glad they could not, for she was afraid, if they did, they might fall off and get hurt. but teddy and janet were careful, and they knew how to sit in the saddle with their feet in the stirrups. "they're getting to be good little riders," said jim mason to uncle frank one day. "i'll take 'em with me the next time i go for a short ride." "maybe we could find the bad indians that took your horses, uncle frank," said teddy. "well, i wish you could," said the owner of ring rosy ranch. the cowboys had not been able to get back the stolen horses nor find the indians who had run them off. other ranches, too, had been robbed and a number of head of horses and cattle had been driven away. "we've looked all over for those indians," said uncle frank, "but we can't find 'em. if you curlytops can, i'll give you each another pony." "i'd like clipclap best though," announced teddy. "what could we do with two?" asked janet. "oh, every cowboy or cowgirl, for that matter, has more than one horse when he can," said jim mason. "then if one gets lame he has another to ride. but don't you curlytops go off by yourselves looking for those bad indians!" he warned them. "we won't," promised teddy. "well only go with you or uncle frank." "we don't find them," said the ranch owner. "i guess the indians sold the horses and cattle and then they hid themselves. well, i hope they don't take any more of my animals." but there was more trouble ahead for uncle frank. the curlytops had a fine time on his ranch, though. when teddy and janet were not riding, they were watching the cowboys at work or play, for the men who looked after uncle frank's cattle had good times as well as hard work. they would often come riding and swooping in from the distant fields after their day's work, yelling and shouting as well as firing off their big revolvers. but neither the curlytops nor their mother were as frightened at this play of the cowboys as they had been at first. "i wish i had a gun that would go bang," said teddy one day. "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried his sister, after the fashion of her mother. "if you had i'd never go riding ponyback with you--never again! i'd be afraid of you! so there!" "well, so would the indians!" said ted. however he knew he was too small to have a firearm, so he did not tease for it. sometimes, when uncle frank or his foreman, jim mason, went on short rides around the ranch, teddy and janet went with them on their ponies. star pace and clipclap were two sturdy little animals, and were gentle with the children. "come on! let's have a race!" ted would call. "all right. but don't go too fast," janet would answer, and they would trot off, the ponies going as fast as was safe for the children. teddy generally won these races, for janet, who was very tender-hearted, did not like to make her pony go as fast as it could go. often, perhaps, if janet had urged star face on she would have beaten her brother, for clipclap still felt a little weak, now and then, from his illness. one day a cowboy came in, riding hard from a far-off part of the ranch. "i guess something is the matter, jan," said teddy, as they saw the horseman gallop past. "what?" she asked as they noticed him talking to the foreman. "maybe he's found the indians that took uncle frank's horses," her brother answered. the children drew near enough to hear what the cowboy and the foreman were talking about. "more horses gone!" exclaimed jim mason. "well, we'll surely have to get after those indians; that's all there is about it!" "more horses stolen?" asked daddy martin, coming out just then. "yes," answered jim mason. "a lot of good ones. i guess more indians must have run away from the reservation. we'll have to hunt them down!" "oh, i wish i could go!" sighed teddy. "i'd like to be an indian fighter." "you'll have to grow a lot bigger," said his uncle, with a laugh. uncle frank and some of the cowboys rode over the prairie, trying to find the stealing indians, but they could not. nor could they find the missing horses, either. "it's a good thing uncle frank has lots of cattle," said teddy that night when the cowboys came back to the ranch house, not having found the horse thieves. "if he didn't have he'd be poor when the indians take his animals." "he'll be poor if the indians keep on the way they have been doing," said aunt millie. "i hope he can catch the bad men!" ted and janet hoped so too, but they did not see how they could help, though teddy wanted to. however he was kept near the house. "come on and see the bucking bronco, curlytops!" called uncle frank to teddy and janet one day. "what is it?" asked the little girl. "a bucking bronco jumps up in the air with all four feet off the ground at once, and comes down as stiff as a board," explained uncle frank. "that isn't nice for the man that's in the saddle, though the cowboys know how to ride most bucking broncos, that are really sort of wild horses." "i'd like to see 'em!" cried teddy. "you may," promised his uncle. "the cowboys have a bucking bronco out in the corral and they're taking turns trying to ride him. come along if you want to see the fun." it was fun, but some hard work, too, for one after another the cowboys fell out of the saddle of the bucking bronco as they tried to ride him. now and then one would stay on the wild animal's back longer than had any of his friends, not falling when the bronco leaped up in the air and came down with his legs as stiff as those of an old fashioned piano. "ki-yi! yippi-i-yip!" yelled the cowboys, as they dashed about on the bucking bronco, swinging their hats or their quirts, which are short-handled whips, in the air over their heads. they did not mind being thrown, and each one tried to ride the wild bronco. none could stay in the saddle more than a few minutes at a time though. "well, i guess i'll have to ride that animal myself," said jim mason, when all the other cowboys had tried and had fallen or jumped from the saddle. the foreman was a fine rider. "yes, i guess i can ride that bronco," he said. "give the pony a chance to get his breath," suggested one of the cowboys. "i don't reckon you can ride him though, jim." "i'll try," was the answer. the bronco was led to a corner of the corral, or stable yard, and tied. then the foreman made ready to try to stay in the saddle longer than had any of his men, for when a bronco bucks it is like trying to hold on to a swing that is turning topsy-turvy. suddenly, as teddy and janet were looking at some of the funny tricks the cowboys were playing on one another, uncle frank gave a cry. "look at trouble!" he exclaimed. baby william had crawled through the fence and was close to the dangerous heels of the bucking bronco. chapter xiii missing cattle for a moment none of the cowboys made a move. they were too frightened at what might happen to trouble. if it had been one of their own friends who had gone into the corral where the dangerous bronco was standing, they would have known what to do. they would have called for him to "look out!" and the cowboy would have kept away from the animal. but it was different with trouble. to him one horse was like another. he liked them all, and he never thought any of them would kick or bite him. the bucking bronco was most dangerous of all. "oh, trouble!" exclaimed janet softly. "i--i'll get him!" whispered teddy. "i can crawl in there and run and get him before that bronco--" "you stay right where you are, curlytop!" exclaimed jim mason. "we don't want you both hurt, and if you go in there now you might start that crazy horse to kicking. stay where you are. i'll get trouble for you." "maybe if i called to him he'd come," said janet. she, too, spoke in a whisper. in fact no one had made a noise since trouble had been seen crawling under the corral fence, close to the bucking bronco. "no, don't call, janet," said the foreman. "you might make the bronco give a jump, and then he'd step on your little brother. that horse is a savage one, and he's so excited now, from so many of the cowboys having tried to ride him, that he might break loose and kick trouble. we've got to keep quiet." the cowboys seemed to know this, for none of them said a word. they kept very still and watched trouble. baby william thought he was going to have a good time. he had wandered out of the house when his mother was not looking. seeing ted, janet and the cowboys down by the corral, he made up his mind that was the place for him. "maybe i get a horse wide," he said to himself, for he was about as eager over horses as his sister or brother, and, so far, the only rides he had had were when he sat in the saddle in front with them or with his father, and went along very slowly indeed. for they dared not let the horse go fast when trouble was with them, and trouble wanted to go fast. "me go get wide myse'f," he murmured, and then, when no one was looking, he slipped under the corral fence. he was now toddling close to the heels of the bronco. "nice horsie," said trouble in his sweetest voice. "i get on your back an' have nice wide!" trouble always had hard work to sound the r in ride. "wide" he always called it. nearer and nearer he came to the bronco. the animal, without turning its head, knew that someone was coming up behind. many a time a cowboy had tried to fool the savage horse that way, and leap into the saddle without being seen. but imp, as the bronco was named, knew all those tricks. he turned back his ears, and when a horse does that it is not a good sign. almost always it means he is going to bite or kick. in this case imp would have to kick, as trouble was too far behind to be bitten. and imp did not seem to care that it was a little boy who was behind, and not a big cowboy. imp was going to do his worst. but jim mason was getting ready to save trouble. going around to the side, where he could not be seen so well, the foreman quickly leaped over the fence. and then he ran swiftly toward trouble, never saying a word. the bronco heard the sound of running feet. he turned his head around to see who else was coming to bother him and then, before imp could do anything and before trouble could reach and put his little hands on the dangerous heels, the foreman caught up baby william and jumped back with him, out of the way in case imp should kick. and kick imp did! his heels shot out as he laid his ears farther back on his head and he gave a shrill scream, as horses can when they are angry. "no you don't! not this time!" cried jim mason, as he ran back to the fence with trouble. "and you must never go into the corral or near horses again, trouble! do you hear?" and the foreman spoke to baby william as though very angry indeed. but he had to do this, for the little fellow must learn not to go into danger. "don't ever go in there again!" said the foreman, as he set trouble down on the ground in a safe place. "no, me not go," was the answer, and baby william's lips quivered as though he were going to cry. "well, that's all right, old man!" said the foreman in kind tones. for he loved children and did not even like to hurt their feelings. "i didn't mean to scare you." but he had scared trouble, or, rather the sudden catching up of the little fellow and the pony's scream had frightened him, and janet's baby brother began to cry, hiding his head in her dress. but, after all, that was the best thing to make trouble remember that he must not go in the corral, and he had soon forgotten his tears and was laughing at the funny tricks imp cut up as jim mason tried to ride him. the foreman, after he had carried trouble safely out of the way, went back in the corral and jumped on the bucking bronco's back. then imp did all he could to get the man out of the saddle. around and around the corral dashed the cow pony, and when he found that jim stuck on the horse began jumping up in the air--bucking as the cowboys call it. even that did not shake the foreman to the ground. then, suddenly, the horse fell down. but it was not an accident. he did it on purpose, and then he began to roll over, thinking this, surely, would get that man off his back. it did. but when imp tried to roll over on the foreman, to hurt him, jim mason just laughed and jumped out of the way. he knew imp would probably do this and he was ready for him. jim watched imp, and as soon as the bronco stopped rolling and stood up again the foreman jumped into the saddle. this was too much for imp. he made up his mind he could not get rid of such a good rider, so the horse settled down and galloped around the corral as he ought to do. "hurray! jim rides him after all!" cried some of the cowboys. "i told you i'd stick to him" said the foreman with a laugh. "i wish i could ride that way," said teddy, with a little sigh when jim came out of the corral and left imp to have a rest. "well, maybe you will some day," said the foreman. "you've got a good start, and there's no better place to learn to ride ponyback than at ring rosy ranch." one warm, pleasant afternoon, when they had played about the house for some time, amusing themselves at the games they were wont to pass the time with in the east, jan called to her brother: "let's go and take a ride on our ponies!" "all right," agreed teddy. "where'll we go?" "oh, not very far. mother told us we mustn't go very far when we're alone." "that was before we knew how to ride," declared the little boy. "i guess we ride good enough now to take long rides." "but not now," insisted jan. "we'll only go for a little way, or i'm not going to play." "all right," teddy agreed. "we won't go very far." so they went out to the stable where their ponies were kept, and there one of the cowboys kindly saddled clipclap and star face for the little curlytops. uncle frank had given orders to his men that they were to let the children have the ponies whenever it was safe to ride, and this was one of the nicest days of the summer. "don't let 'em run away with you!" laughed the cowboy, as he helped jan and ted into their saddles. "oh, clipclap and star pace won't run away!" declared the little girl. "they're too nice." "yes, they are nice ponies," agreed the cowboy. "well, good-bye and good luck." biding up to the house, to tell their mother they were going for a ride, but would keep within sight or calling distance, ted and jan were soon guiding their ponies across the prairie. the children had soon learned to sit well in the saddles, and knew how to guide their ponies. and the little animals were very safe. "somehow or other, i don't feel at all worried here when the children are out of my sight--i mean teddy and janet," said mrs. martin to her husband, when the curlytops had ridden away. "yes, uncle frank's ranch does seem a safe place for them," mr. martin answered. "lots of 'down east' people think the west is a dangerous place. well, maybe it is in spots, but it is very nice here." on over the prairies rode teddy and janet. now and then the little girl would stop her pony and look back. "what are you looking for?" teddy asked. "do you think trouble is following us?" "no, but we mustn't go too far from the house. we must stay in sight of it, mother said." "well, we will," promised ted. but, after a while, perhaps it was because it was so nice to ride along on the ponies' backs, or because the little animals went faster than ted or janet imagined--i don't know just how it did happen, but, all at once, jan looked back and gave a cry. "why, what's the matter, jan?" asked teddy. "we--we're lost!" gasped the little girl. "i can't see uncle frank's house anywhere!" it was true enough. none of the ranch buildings were in sight, and for a moment ted, too, was frightened. then as his pony moved on, a little ahead of jan's, the boy gave a cry of delight. "there it is! i can see the house!" he said. "we're not lost. we were just down in a hollow i guess." and so it was. the prairies, though they look level, are made up of little hills and valleys, or hollows. down in between two hills one might be very near a house and yet not see it. "now we're all right," went on teddy. "yes," agreed janet "we're not lost anymore." so they rode on a little farther, the ponies now and then stopping to crop a bit of the sweet grass, when, all of a sudden, teddy, who was still a little ahead of his sister, called: "look there, jan!" "where?" teddy pointed. his sister saw several men on horseback--at least that is what they looked like--coming toward them. something about the figures seemed a bit strange to the children. ted and jan looked at one another and then back toward the ranch houses, which, they made sure, were not out of sight this time. "are they cowboys?" asked jan of her brother. "they--they don't just look like 'em," he said. "i mean like uncle frank's cowboys." "that's what i thought," janet added. "they look like they had blankets on--some of 'em." she and teddy sat on their ponies' backs and kept looking at the other figures. they were coming nearer, that was sure, and as they came closer it was more and more certain to the curlytops that some of the strangers on the horses were wrapped in blankets. "oh, i know what they are!" suddenly cried janet. "what?" "in--indians!" faltered janet. "oh, teddy, if they should be _wild_ indians!" "pooh!" exclaimed teddy, trying to speak bravely. "uncle frank said there weren't any very wild indians near his ranch." "maybe these ones wasn't near the ranch before, but they're coming near now," said janet, so excited the words tumbled out all mixed-up like. "i'm going home!" "i--i guess i'll go with you," added teddy, as he turned his pony's head about. "we'd better tell uncle frank the indians are coming. maybe they want more of his horses." "oh, he won't let 'em have any!" cried janet. "but they _are_ indians sure enough!" she went on, as she took a look over her shoulder. and there was no doubt about it. as the group of riders came closer to the children, whose ponies did not go as fast as the larger horses, it was seen that they were indeed indians, many of them wrapped in blankets. there were men, women, boys and girls, and some of the smaller children were carried wrapped tightly to their mothers' backs. tip to the ranch rode teddy and jan as fast as their ponies would take them without tossing off the curlytops. "oh, uncle frank!" cried teddy. "they 're coming!" "a lot of 'em!" shouted janet. "what's that?" asked the ranchman. "who are coming?" "indians to take more of your ponies!" teddy gasped. for a time there was some little excitement on the ranch, until one of the cowboys, riding out to see the indians, came back and said they were not "wild" ones, but a band that went about selling baskets and other things they made. they did no harm, and for a time camped near the ranch, the children, even trouble, going over to see them. but for some time the curlytops did not forget the fright their first view of the indians gave them. in the days that followed teddy and janet had many rides on clipclap and star face, their two nice ponies. sometimes they were allowed to go a little way over the prairies by themselves. but when they went for a long ride uncle frank, jim mason, their father or some of the cowboys were with them. "after a while maybe i'll learn how to ride so i can go off with you and help get the indians that stole your horses. do you think i can, uncle frank?" asked teddy one day. "well, maybe, curlytop. we surely must find those indians, for i don't like to lose all those horses. as soon as i get some of my work done i'll have another look for them." and then, a few days later, more bad news came to uncle frank. with his cowboys he was getting some cattle ready to ship away to a distant city, from where they were to be sent still farther away in a train of cattle cars, when a cowboy, who seemed much excited, came riding up to the corral. he looked very tired and warm, for the weather was hot, and his horse was covered with flecks of foam, as though it had been ridden hard and far. "what's the matter, henry?" asked uncle frank. "indian thieves!" was the answer. "a band of the indians have run away with a lot of your best cattle!" "they have?" cried uncle frank. "how do you know?" "i saw 'em, and i chased 'em. but they got away from me. maybe if we start right out now we can catch 'em and get back the cattle." "then we'll go!" cried uncle frank. teddy and janet were very much excited when they saw the cowboys saddling their mustangs ready for the chase. chapter xiv looking for indians "can't we come along?" asked teddy, as he saw uncle frank lead his horse out of the corral. "and i want to come, too!" added janet. "oh, no! we couldn't think of letting you!" answered uncle frank. "come on, boys! get ready. we'll have to ride fast!'' "we can ride fast!" added teddy. "you said, the other day, uncle frank, i could ride real good!" "so you can, curlytop." "then why can't we come? jan--she's a good rider, too!" "why the idea of you children thinking you can go off on a hunt for indians!" exclaimed their mother. "we want to go--awful much!" teddy murmured. "not this time, curly boy," said the ranchman. "we may have to be out all night, and it looks like rain. you stay at home with janet, and i'll tell you all about it when i come back." "will you, truly?" "truly i will." "and if you get any indians will you bring 'em here?" teddy demanded. "no, don't!" cried janet quickly. "i don't want to see any indians." "but they're _tame_ ones," said her brother. "they can't be _awful_ tame, else they wouldn't run away with uncle frank's cows," declared the little girl. "that's right!" laughed uncle frank. "i guess we won't bring any indians here, curlytop, even if we catch 'em, which we may not do as they have a good start of us. anyhow we'll have to turn the redmen back to their reservation where they belong if we get any of them. we'll just take my cattle and horses away, if we can, and tell the indians to go home and be good." "will they do it?" asked daddy martin. "it's hard to say," answered uncle frank. "i'd like to make 'em stop taking my animals, though. well, i guess we'll start. we'll be back as soon as we can." so he rode off with his cowboys after the indians. the cowboy who had ridden in with the news went back with the others to show them where he had last seen the cattle thieves. he stopped at the ranch house long enough, though, to get something to eat, and then rode away again. but he found time to talk a while to the curlytops. "where did you see the indians?" teddy asked while the cowboy was eating and uncle frank and the others getting ready for the chase. "oh, i was giving my pony a drink at the spring in the rocks when i saw the indians across the prairie--field, i guess you'd call it back east." "well, the prairies are big fields," observed janet. "so they are, curly girl," laughed the cowboy. "well, it was while i was watering my horse that i saw the indians." "you mean at the spring in the rocks where jan and i found clipclap in the cave?" teddy asked. "that's the place, curlytop. i chased after them to see which way they were driving off your uncle frank's cattle, but i saw they were too many for me, so i came on back as fast as my horse would bring me." "was there a lot of indians?" teddy inquired. "quite a few," answered the cowboy. "well, now i've got to go and help chase them," and he hurried through his meal and rode off with uncle frank and the others. "say, i wish we _could_ go, don't you, janet?" asked teddy of his sister, when they were left by themselves near the corral. "no, i don't! i don't want to chase indians!" "well, i'd chase 'em and you could watch me." "you're not big enough," said the little girl. "indians are awful big. don't you remember the one we saw at the station?" "yes. but maybe the ones that took uncle frank's ponies are little indians." "i don't care," janet said. "i don't want to chase after any of 'em. i don't like 'em." "all right--then i won't go," decided teddy. "but let's go and take a ride on our ponies." "yes, i'll do that," agreed janet, and soon, having had one of the cowboys who had been left behind at ring rosy ranch saddle clipclap and star face, the curlytops started for their ride. "don't go too far!" called mrs. martin after the children. "no, we won't," they promised. "i wants to go wide too!" begged trouble. "i 'ikes a wide on a ponyback." "not now, my dear," his mother said. "we'll go in the shade and pick flowers," and she carried him away where he would not see teddy and janet go off, for that made trouble fretful. he wanted to be with them. over the prairie rode janet and ted. their ponies went slowly, for the children had been told not to ride fast when they were alone. but, after a while, ted got tired of this slow motion. "let's have a race, jan!" he called. "i can beat you from here to that hill," and he pointed to one not far away. "mother said we couldn't ride fast," objected the little girl. "well, we won't ride _very_ fast," agreed ted. "come on, just a little run." janet, too, wanted to go a bit faster, and so, when her pony was in a line with ted's, she called sharply: "gid-dap, star face!" "gid-dap, clipclap!" cried teddy. the two ponies started to run. "oh, i'm going to beat! i'm going to beat!" janet cried, for she saw that star face was getting ahead of clipclap. "no you're not!" shouted teddy, and he touched his heel to the pony's flank. clipclap gave a jump forward, and then something happened. teddy took a flying leap, and right over clipclap's head he sailed, coming down on his hands and knees some distance off. clipclap fell down and rolled over in the grass while janet kept on toward the hill that marked the end of the race. the little girl reached this place first, not being able to stop her pony when she saw what had happened to teddy. but as soon as she could turn around she rode back to him and asked anxiously: "are you hurt, ted?" "no--no. i--i guess not," he answered slowly. "is clipclap?" asked janet. the pony answered for himself by getting up, giving himself a shake and then beginning to eat some grass. "what happened?" janet questioned further. "why didn't you come on and race with me? i won!" "yes, i guess you did," admitted teddy, getting up and brushing the dust off his clothes. "but i'd 'a' beaten you, only my pony stumbled and he threw me over his head. i went right over his head; didn't i janet?" "yes, you did, teddy. and you looked awful funny! but i'm glad you're not hurt." "so'm i." "what made clipclap stumble?" asked the little girl. "i guess he stepped in a gopher's hole," answered her brother. "let's look," proposed janet. brother and sister went to the place where clipclap had stumbled. there they saw a little hole in the ground. it was the front, or maybe the back, door of the home of a little animal called a gopher, which burrows under the earth. a gopher is a sort of squirrel-like rat, and on the prairies they make many holes which are dangerous if a horse suddenly steps into them. prairie dogs are another species of animal that burrow on the western plains, making holes into which horses or ponies often step, breaking their legs and throwing their riders. this time nothing had happened except that teddy and the pony had been shaken up. the pony might have broken a leg but did not, nor was teddy even scratched. cowboys always dread gopher and prairie dog holes, especially at night when they can not be so easily seen. "oh, i know what let's do!" exclaimed janet, when she found that her brother was all right. "what?" asked teddy. "let's wait here until the gopher comes up!" "all right. then we'll catch him and take him home to trouble." chapter xv trouble "helps" janet and teddy sat beside the gopher hole, while their ponies, not far from them, ate the sweet grass of the prairie. clipclap and star face did not wander away, even if they were not tied to a hitching post. for western horses and cow ponies are trained to stand where their master leaves them, if he will but toss the reins over their heads and let them rest on the ground. when a pony sees that this has been done he will never run away, unless perhaps something frightens him very much. it may be that he thinks, when the reins are over his head and down on the ground, they are tied to something, so he could not run away if he wanted to. at any rate, clipclap and star face stayed where ted and janet left them, and the little curlytops watched the gopher hole. "i wonder when he'll come out," said janet after a bit. "shs-s-s-s!" whispered teddy. "don't talk!" "why not?" asked his sister. "'cause you might scare him. you mustn't talk any more than if you were fishing." "a gopher isn't a fish!" "i know it," said teddy. "but you've got to keep quiet." so he and janet remained very quiet, watching the hole. suddenly janet gave teddy a slight tap with her hand. he had looked off to see if the ponies were all right. "what's the matter?" asked teddy. "hush!" whispered janet. "there he is." she pointed to the gopher's hole. teddy saw a tiny black nose and a pair of sparkling eyes as a head was thrust a little way out of the burrow. "i'll get him!" cried the little boy. with outstretched hand he made a grab toward the hole. but his fingers only grasped a lot of dirt and stones. the gopher had dived down back into his hole as soon as he saw teddy's first move. "oh, he got away!" said janet sorrowfully. "ill get him next time," declared teddy. but he did not. three or four times more the little animal put his small head and bright eyes out of the top of the hole, and each time teddy made a grab for him; but the gopher was too quick. finally janet said: "i guess we better go home, teddy." "why?" "oh, it's getting late, and i'm getting hungry." "so'm i. i'll wait until he comes up once more and then well go." once more the gopher peeped up, as if wondering why in the world those two strange children did not go away and let him alone. ted made a grab for him, but missed and then the little boy said: "come on, jan. now we'll go home!" "and we haven't any nice little gopher to take to trouble," said janet sadly. "oh, well, maybe it would bite him if we did catch one," reflected her brother. "i'll take him some of these pretty stones," and he picked up some from the ground. "he'll like to play with these." teddy whistled for his pony and clipclap came slowly up to his little master. janet held out a bunch of grass to star face and her pony, just as he had been taught, came up to her. teddy helped his sister get up in the saddle. it was not hard for them, as the ponies were small, and jim mason had showed them how to put one foot in the stirrup, and then, with one hand on the saddle and the other grasping both the bridle and the pony's mane, give a jump that carried them up. but though janet could mount her pony alone teddy always helped her when he was with her by holding the stirrup. "let's have another race home," suggested teddy, when they had started. "no," answered his sister. "you might fall some more and get hurt. we'll ride slow." so they did, though teddy was anxious for a good, fast gallop. "well, did you have a nice time?" asked mother martin, as they came to the house after putting away their ponies. "we had lots of fun," answered janet "teddy fell off his pony--" "fell off his pony!" cried her mother. "he threw me!" explained ted, and then he told what had happened. "an' didn't you catch noffin for me?" asked trouble, who heard his brother telling the story of his adventure. "i brought you these nice stones," and teddy took them out of his pocket. "you can play with them, trouble." baby william laughed and sat down to play with the stones. "did the cowboys come back with the indians?" asked teddy of aunt millie when she was giving him and janet some bread and jam to eat. "no, not yet, curlytop. i expect uncle frank and the boys will be gone all night." "will they have a house to sleep in?" asked janet. "no, unless they happen to be near one when it gets dark. but they took their blankets with them, and it's so warm that they'll just wrap up in them and sleep out on the prairie," said aunt millie. "won't they be hungry?" teddy inquired, as he took a big bite of the bread and jam. "oh, no! don't you remember i told you they always take something to eat with them when they go out this way? they are used to camping on the prairies, and they know how to make a fire, broil the bacon and make their coffee," answered aunt millie. "you need never worry about uncle frank and his cowboys. they'll be all right." and so they were. it was not until the next afternoon that the party which had gone out to chase the indians came back. they were tired, because they had ridden a good many miles, but they said they had slept well and had had enough to eat. "did you catch the indians?" asked teddy eagerly. "no, curlytop," answered uncle frank. "i'm sorry to say we did not. they got away from us." "did you see them?" asked daddy martin. "yes, but they were a long way off. too far for us to get at them." "and did they have your cattle with them?" "yes, they had a lot of my best animals. i guess they must be hiding away somewhere among the hills and mountains. we came pretty close to them at one time, and they suddenly disappeared. it seems as if they must have gone into a big hole or cave. we couldn't find them." "are you going to look any more?" teddy questioned. "and if you do go, uncle frank, please can't i go too?" "well, most likely we will have another hunt for the indians," answered the ranchman, "but i'm afraid we couldn't take you along, curlytop." "why not, uncle frank?" "oh, you might get hurt." "well, can i see the indians after you catch 'em?" "oh, yes, i guess i can promise you _that_," and uncle frank smiled at daddy martin. "and can i ask them to make me a bow and arrows?" went on teddy. "yes, you can _ask_ them, but i don't believe they will," uncle frank replied. "these indians aren't very nice. they're quite bad, in fact, and we all wish they'd stay where they belong and not come off their reservation and steal our cattle and horses." "well, i'm going to ask one to make me a bow and some arrows when you catch 'em," decided teddy. that afternoon teddy saw his sister trying to do something with bits of string and sticks in a shady spot on the porch. "what are you making, jan," he asked. "a cat's cradle?" "pooh! you don't make a cat's cradle with sticks," said the little girl. "well, i thought maybe it was a new kind, or maybe a _kitten's_ cradle," laughed teddy. "nope; it isn't that either," went on janet, as she kept on twisting the strings around the sticks. "well, what _are_ you making?" "a bow and arrow." "ho! ho!" laughed jan's brother "you can't make a bow and arrow _that_ way. anyhow you don't need a string for an arrow." "i know _that_!" jan said. "but i'm making the bow first, and then i'm going to make the arrow. the arrow part is what you shoot, isn't it, ted?" "yes," he answered. "i'll help you, jan. i didn't mean to laugh at you," he went on, for he saw that janet was very much in earnest about what she was doing. "i know how to make a bow and arrows." "oh, please show me!" begged janet. "i want to know how to shoot like the indians." teddy, however, did not have much better luck making the bow than his sister had had. the trouble was that the sticks janet had picked up were not the right kind. they would not bend, and to make a bow that shoots arrows a piece of wood that springs, or bends, is needed. for it is the springy action of the wood that shoots the arrow on its way. after trying two or three times, each time finding something wrong, teddy said: "oh, i don't guess i can make a bow, either. let's play something else." "what'll we play?" asked janet. teddy thought for a few moments. playing out at uncle frank's ranch was different from playing at home. in some ways it was not so easy, for at home if the curly-tops could not think up any way to have fun by themselves, they could run down the street and find some other boys and girls. but here there were no streets, and no other boys or girls unless teddy and janet went a long way to look for them, and they could not do that. "i know what we can do," said teddy, after a while. "we can get some blankets and cookies and play cowboy." "how can you play cowboy with cookies and blankets?" "i'll show you," teddy answered, as he went into the house to get the things he wanted. he soon came out with some old quilts and the cookies, which were in a paper bag. "now," went on janet's brother, "we'll go off on the prairie and make believe it's night and we have to stay out like the cowboys when they went after uncle frank's horses." "oh, that'll be fun!" cried janet, and then she and ted rolled themselves up in the old quilts and pretended to go to sleep on the soft grass of the prairie, making believe it was night, though of course it was not, for the sun was shining. then they ate the cookies, pretending they were bacon, sandwiches, cake and other things that cowboys like. two or three days later uncle frank and the cowboys went out again to look for the indians, but they did not find them. from other ranches word came of cattle and horses that had been stolen; and more cowboys were hired to keep watch over the animals that had to be left out in the big fields to eat their fill of grass. no barn was large enough to hold them. meanwhile teddy and janet were learning how to ride better each day. they could go quite fast now, though they were not allowed to make their ponies gallop except on ground where uncle frank knew there were no holes in which the animals might stumble. sometimes daddy and mother martin went to ride with the children, and then they had good times together, taking their lunch and staying all day out on the prairie or in a shady grove of trees. one day ted and janet saw some cowboys driving a number of ponies to the corral near the ranch buildings. some of the animals were quite wild and went racing about as though they would like to run far off and not come back. but the cowboys knew how to take care of the ponies. they rode around them, keeping them together in a bunch, and if one started to get away the cowboys would fire their revolvers and yell, so the pony would become frightened and turn back. "did you take these ponies away from the indians?" asked teddy, as he saw the little animals turned into the corral and the gate shut on them. "no, these are some that have been running wild in a field away over at the far end of my ranch," explained uncle frank. "i had them brought in, as i'm going to ship some away to be sold." "come on, we'll go and look at the ponies," called ted to his sister. "are they very wild?" he asked jim mason, who had helped the cowboys bring them to the ranch corral. "yes, some of 'em are pretty wild," was the answer. "we had hard work making them come along. they want to get loose and do as they please." ted and janet climbed up on the corral fence to look at the ponies. a few were somewhat tame, and allowed the curlytops to pat them. but others were very wild, and ran about as though looking for a place to jump the fence or get out through a hole. but the fence was good and strong. it was high and had no holes in it. "lots of ponies!" murmured trouble, as he toddled after his brother and sister to the corral. "yes, lots of 'em," agreed janet. "you'll soon be a big boy and you can have a pony to ride like brother and sister." "trouble want pony now!" he exclaimed. "oh, no, not now," janet said as she helped him get up on the lowest board of the fence, part of which was wooden, so he could look in better. "what they run around like that for?" asked trouble, as he saw some of the ponies racing about the corral. "they want to get out," janet answered. "trouble go help," murmured the little fellow, but janet either did not hear what he said or she paid no attention, for just then two of the ponies had a race together around the corral and she and ted wanted to see which would win. trouble got down off the fence and went around to the gate. his brother and sister did not notice him until, all at once, janet, missing her little brother, cried: "where's trouble?" "i don't know," ted answered. "maybe he--oh, look, janet!" he suddenly cried. "the corral gate is open and all the ponies are running out!" "oh, that's right! they are!" janet then screamed. "but where is trouble?" "i don't know. i guess he--oh, there he is!" and teddy pointed to a spot near the gate. there stood trouble between the fence and the big gate which had swung back on its hinges. "oh, look at 'em run!" cried janet. "they're all running out!" added teddy excitedly. "i wonder who let 'em loose." "maybe it was trouble," suggested janet. "oh, it _was!"_ she went on. "trouble must have opened the gate and let the ponies loose!" chapter xvi on the trail trouble had done that very thing. the little fellow had not meant to do any harm, and certainly thought he was doing something to help, but really he made a great deal of work for uncle frank and the cowboys. the corral, or yard where the half-tamed horses were kept while they were being got ready to send away, was closed by a large gate, but one easy to open if you knew how. all one had to do was to pull on a little handle, which snapped a spring and the gate would swing open. horses and cattle could not open the gate, for they could not reach the handle, even if any of them had known enough to do anything like that. but trouble had watched uncle frank or some of the cowboys open the gate by pulling on the handle; and now he did it himself. then, of course, when the ponies saw the open gate they raced out. "get after 'em!" cried uncle frank who came galloping up on his horse to find out what was the matter. "get after the ponies, boys! round them up!" "round up," is what cowboys call riding around a lot of horses or cattle to keep the animals in one place or to drive them where they should go. uncle frank wanted his cowboys to ride after the runaway ponies and drive them back into the corral. as the wild little horses trotted out through the gate, behind which trouble stood, well out of danger, the cowboys rode after them, yelling and shouting and shooting their revolvers. "what a lot of noise!" cried janet, covering her ears with her hands as she got down off the fence. "i like it!" laughed teddy. "it's like a wild west show!" indeed it was, in a way, but it meant a lot of work for uncle frank and his men. for all the ponies ran out of the corral and were scattering over the prairie. "oh, trouble! did you let the horses out?" asked janet, as her little brother came out from behind the gate and toddled toward her and ted. the runaway horses were now well out of the way. "did you open the gate?" "yes. i did open gate," trouble answered, smiling. "what for?" asked teddy. "help little horses get out," said trouble. "them want to get out and trouble help them. trouble 'ike ponies!" "oh, but, my dear, you shouldn't have done it!" chided mother martin, who had come out of the house to find out what all the excitement was about. "that was very naughty of you. see all the work you have made for uncle frank and his men." "horses run out when trouble open gate," was the only reply baby william made. "yes, i know," went on his mother. "but it was wrong! you must never again open any gates on uncle frank's ranch. just think--the horses might have stepped on you or kicked you!" "we didn't see him near the gate or we'd have stopped him," put in teddy. "that's true," added janet. "the first we saw was the ponies going out, and then we saw trouble behind the gate." "he didn't mean to be bad," said his mother, as she carried him back to the house, "but he has made a lot of work. i'll have to punish him by not letting him out to play for an hour or so. then he'll remember not to open gates again, whether he thinks he is helping horses or not." and, though trouble cried very hard, he was kept in the house. for, as his mother had said, he must have something to make him remember not to do such a thing again. meanwhile uncle frank and the cowboys were busy rounding up the runaway ponies. the little horses, tired of being cooped up in the corral, raced about, kicking up their heels and glad to be out on the prairie again. but the cowboys knew how to handle them. around and around the drove of half-wild ponies rode the yelling and shouting men, firing off many blank cartridges to scare the little animals back into the corral. some of the ponies, frightened by the noise, did turn back. they ran up to the corral gate, which was still open, and sniffed at the fence. they may have said to themselves: "we don't like it, being shut up in there, but maybe well have to go back in, for we don't like being shouted at, and we don't like the bang-bang noises like thunder." but, even when some of the ponies had run back as far as the corral gate they did not go in. once again they turned around and would have galloped across the prairie again. but uncle frank shouted: "get after them, boys! drive those few in and the rest will follow after like sheep! get after them!" so the cowboys rode up on their own swift ponies, that seemed to be having a good time, and then the other ponies nearest the corral gate were turned in through it. then as the rest were driven up they did as the first ones had done and galloped back where they had been before trouble let them out. one after another the ponies ran back into the corral until every one was there. then uncle frank closed the gate, and this time he locked it so that no one could open it without the key. but no one would try, not even trouble, for, crying and sobbing to be allowed to go out and play, he had been given a lesson that he would not soon forget. "i'm sorry i had to punish him," said mother martin to the curlytops, when they came in after the ponies were once more in the corral, "but i just had to. work on a ranch is hard enough without little boys letting the horses run wild after they have once been caught." "oh, well, no great harm was done," said uncle frank with a good-natured laugh, "though it did make us ride pretty hard for a while. come on, trouble, i'll take you ponyback!" this was what trouble liked, and he soon dried his tears and sat on the saddle in front of uncle frank as happy as could be. janet and ted got out their ponies, and rode with uncle frank and trouble around the outside of the corral, looking at the little horses inside the fence. they were quieter now, and were eating some oats the cowboys had put out for them. two or three days after this, when the ponies had been driven away to the railroad station to be shipped to a far-off state, a cowboy came riding in with news that he had seen a band of two or three indians pass along the prairie near the rocks where teddy and janet had found clipclap. "if we ride after them," said the cowboy, "maybe we can find where the other indians are, and where they have hidden your horses and cattle, mr. barton." "that's it!" exclaimed uncle frank. "we'll get on the trail after these indians. i'm sure they must have some of my animals hidden away in the hills, for i would have heard of it if they had sold them around here. we'll get on the trail!" "what's the trail, daddy?" asked teddy of his father. "oh, it means the marks the indians' ponies may have left in the soft ground," said mr. martin. "uncle frank and his cowboys will try to trail, or follow, the marks of the horses' feet, and see where the indians have gone." "can't i come?" asked teddy. "i can ride good now!" "oh, no indeed you can't go!" cried mother martin. "are you going?" she asked her husband. "yes," he answered. "i think i'll go on the trail with uncle frank." chapter xvii the curlytops alone teddy and janet sat on a bench outside the cowboys' bunkhouse, as their father, uncle frank and a number of the ranchmen rode away over the prairies on the trail of the indians. the curlytops did not seem very happy. "don't you wish _we_ could go, jan?" asked teddy, after he and his sister had sat in silence for some time. "i just guess i _do_!" she exclaimed. "i can ride good, too. almost as good as you, ted, and i don't see why we couldn't go!" "yes, you ride nice, jan," said her brother. "but i thought you were afraid of indians." "i used to be, but i'm not any more. anyway, if you'd stay with me i wouldn't be. and, anyhow, uncle frank says the indians won't hurt us." "course they won't! i'm not afraid! i'd go on the trail after 'em if they'd let us." "so would i. we could throw stones at 'em if they tried to hurt us, teddy." "yes. or we could ride our ponies fast and get away. uncle frank told me the indians didn't have any good ponies, and that's why they took his." "but we can't go," said janet with a sigh. "no; we've got to stay at home." a little later a cowboy came limping out of the bunkhouse. his name was sim body, but all his friends called him "baldy" because he had so little hair on his head. "hello, curlytops!" cried baldy in a jolly voice, for he was always good-natured. even now he was jolly, though he had a lame foot where a horse had stepped on it. that is why he was not on the trail after the indians with the other cowboys. "hello," answered teddy, but he did not speak in a jolly voice. "why, what's the matter?" asked baldy with a laugh, as he limped to the bench and sat down near the two children. "you act as sad and gloomy as if there wasn't a christmas or a new year's any more, to say nothing of fourth of july and birthdays! what's the matter? seems to me, if i had all the nice, curly hair you two have, i'd be as happy as a horned toad and i'd go around singing all day long," and baldy rubbed his hand over his own smooth head and laughed. "i don't like my hair," grumbled teddy. "it's always getting snarled and the comb gets stuck in it." "and it does in mine, too," added janet. "and mother pulls when she tries to untangle it. mine's longer than ted's." "yes, and nicer, for that reason," went on baldy. "though i'd be glad if i had even half of yours, teddy. but never mind about that. i won't take your hair, though i'd like to know what makes you both so gloomy-like. can't you smile?" ted and janet could not help laughing at baldy, he seemed so funny. he was a good friend of theirs. "we can't go on the trail after indians," said janet. "we want to go, but we've got to stay here." "and we can ride our ponies good, too," went on teddy. "uncle frank said we could." "yes, you're getting to be pretty good riders," admitted baldy. "but that isn't saying you're big enough to go on a trail after indians. of course these indians may not be very bad, and maybe they aren't the ones that took our horses. but riding on a trail takes a long while, and maybe the boys will be out all night in the open. you wouldn't like that." "we went camping with our grandpa once," declared teddy. "and we slept in a tent," added his sister. "and we saw a funny blue light and we thought it was a ghost but it wasn't," continued teddy. "hum! a ghost, eh?" laughed baldy. "well, i've never been on a trail after one of them, but i've trailed indians--and helped catch 'em, too." "how do you do it?" asked teddy eagerly. "well, you just keep on riding--following the trail you know--until you catch up to those you're after. sometimes you can't see any marks on the ground and you have to guess at it." "and do the indians ride on ahead and try to get away?" asked janet. "indeed they do. when they know we're after 'em they ride as fast as they can. that is, if they've done wrong, like taking horses or cattle that aren't theirs. we just keep chasing 'em until we get close enough to arrest 'em." "it's like a game of tag, isn't it?" asked janet. "well, yes, you could call it sort of like that," admitted baldy, with another laugh. "but it's a kind of game of tag that little boys and girls can't very well play." "not even when they have ponies?" asked teddy. "well, of course, having a pony makes it easier to keep on the trail. you couldn't go very far walking over the prairies--at least none of us do. we all ride. but i'll tell you some stories about cowboys and indians and that will amuse you for a while. like to hear 'em?" "oh, yes!" cried teddy. "very much, thank you," added janet, a little more politely but still just as eagerly as her brother. so baldy, sitting on the bench in front of the bunkhouse and resting his lame foot on a saddle on the ground, told the curlytops stories of his cowboy life--of sleeping out on the prairies keeping watch over the cattle, of indians or other bad men who would come and try to steal them, and how he and his friends had to give chase to get the steers or ponies back. "did you ever get captured by the indians?" asked teddy. "well, yes, once i was," answered the cowboy. "oh, tell us about it!" begged the little curlytop chap. "i love to hear stories about indians! don't you, jan?" "i like stories--yes," said the little girl. "but if you're going to tell a story about indians, mr. baldy, maybe it'll be a scary one, and i don't like scary stories." "i do!" exclaimed ted. "the scarier they are the better i like 'em!" baldy laughed as he said: "well, i guess, seeing as how the little lady doesn't like scary stories, i'd better tell one that isn't. we must please the ladies, you know, teddy." "oh, yes, i know that," the little boy said. "but after you tell the not-scary story, mr. baldy, couldn't you tell me one that is scary--a real, terrible scary one. you can take me out behind the barn where jan can't hear it." "well, maybe i could do that," agreed the good-natured cowboy, laughing at the curlytops. "now then for the not-scary story." "and you don't have to take teddy out behind the barn to tell him the scary one," put in janet. "you could stay here, and i could cover up my ears with my hands when you came to the terrible parts, couldn't i? is there any parts in it that isn't scary? i'd like to hear _them_, mr. baldy." "well, i guess we can fix it that way," said the cowboy. "now the first story i'm going to tell you, is how i was captured by the indians," and the children sat closer to him and waited eagerly. "once upon a time," said baldy, "a lot of indians lived not far from the house where i lived." "weren't you afraid?" asked janet. "please don't ask questions till he tells the story," begged teddy. "all right," agreed his sister, and baldy went on: "no, i wasn't much afraid, or if i was i've forgotten it now, as it was quite a while ago. anyhow, one day i was out on the prairie, picking flowers, i think, for i know i used to like flowers, and, all of a sudden, along came a lot of indians on horses, and one of them picked me up and took me right away with him, on the horse in front of him. "the horse was a strong one, and could easily carry both of us, and though i wiggled around a good bit and yelled, the indian didn't let go of me. on and on he rode, carrying me off, and the other indians rode ahead of us, and on either side. i couldn't get away, no matter how i tried. "after a while the indians, who had been out hunting, came to where their tents were. this was their camp, and then i was lifted down off the horse and given to a squaw." teddy simply had to ask some questions now. "a squaw is a indian lady, isn't she?" "yes," answered baldy, "that's what she is." "well, i shouldn't think she'd want to take you," went on the little boy. "i thought the indian men always kept the prisoners, and you were a prisoner, weren't you?" "yes," answered baldy, and there was a queer smile on his face, "but i guess i forgot to tell you that the time i was captured by the indians i was a little boy, not as big as you, curlytop. and the reason they picked me up off the prairie was that i had wandered away from my home and was lost. so the nice squaw kept me until one of the indian men had time to take me home." "then didn't the indians hurt you?" asked janet. "not a bit. they were very good to me," the cowboy said. "some of them knew my father and mother. that's the only time i was ever captured by the indians, and i'm afraid it wasn't very much of a story." "oh, it was _very_ nice," said teddy politely. "and not a bit scary, except a little teeny bit at first," added janet. "can you tell us another, mr. baldy?" "well, i guess i can," said the good-natured cowboy. so he told other tales of what had happened to him on the prairies, for he had lived in the west all his life, and knew much about it. teddy and janet were very glad to hear these stories, but listening to them made ted, at least, wish all the more that he could have gone with his father and his uncle frank on the trail after the indians. then baldy was called away by another cowboy, who wanted to ask him something about a sick horse, and teddy and janet were called by their mother to take care of trouble for a while. it was still morning, the cowboys having ridden away before dinner. they had taken with them enough to eat, even if they had to stay out all night. "i wants a wide!" announced trouble, when his brother and sister came in to get him. "could we give him a little ride on our ponies?" asked teddy of his mother. "yes, i think so. but don't go far away from the stable. are any of the cowboys out there to help you saddle?" saddling, which meant buckling the leather seat tightly around the pony, was something teddy and janet could not yet do very well for themselves. it takes strong fingers to tighten the straps. "yes, baldy is out there," janet said. "how often have i told you not to call the men by their nicknames?" asked mother martin with a smile. "it isn't nice for children to do that." "but, please, mother, we don't know his other name very well," said teddy. "everybody calls him baldy." "yes, that's right," agreed aunt millie. "i do myself. i guess he doesn't mind." "very well, if he'll saddle your ponies for you, take trouble for a little ride," agreed mrs. martin. "but be careful." the curlytops said they would, and they were soon taking turns riding trouble on the saddles in front of them. clipclap and star face liked the children and were well-behaved ponies, so there was no danger in putting trouble on the back of either as long as ted or janet held him. "but don't go riding off with him on the trail after the indians," said baldy, playfully shaking his finger at the curlytops. "we won't!" they promised. up and down on the paths among the ranch buildings rode the children. trouble was allowed to hold the ends of the reins, and he thought he was guiding the ponies, but really teddy and janet did that. but finally even such fun as riding ponyback tired trouble. he wanted something else to do, and said: "le's go an' s'ide downhill on hay in de barn." teddy and janet knew what that meant. they had learned this kind of fun at grandpa martin's cherry farm. here, on ring rosy ranch, there was a large barn filled with hay, and there was plenty of room to slide down in the mow, or place where the hay was put away. "come on!" cried janet. "well give him a good slide, teddy." a little later the curlytops and baby william were laughing and shouting in the barn, rolling down and tumbling over one another, but not getting hurt, for the hay was too soft. pretty soon the dinner horn blew and, with good appetites from their morning's fun, the children hurried in to get something to eat. "this is a good dinner!" announced teddy as he passed his plate a second time. "yes," agreed mother martin. "i hope your father and the cowboys have as good." "oh, they'll have plenty--never fear!" laughed uncle frank's wife. "they never go hungry when they're on the trail." after dinner trouble went to sleep, as he generally did, and teddy and janet were left to themselves to find amusement. "let's go for another ride," suggested teddy. "all right," agreed janet. the saddles had not been taken off their ponies. their mother and aunt millie saw them go out and, supposing they were only going to ride around the barn and ranch buildings, as they had done before, said nothing to them. but ted was no sooner in the saddle than he turned to his sister and said: "jan, why can't we go riding the trail after the indians?" "what! we two alone?" "yes. we know the way over to the rocks where we found clipclap in the cave, and from there we can ride farther on, just like daddy and uncle frank. come on!" janet thought for a minute. she wanted to go as much as did teddy. it did not seem very wrong. "well, we'll ride a little way," she said. "but we've got to come back before dark." "all right," agreed teddy. "we will!" and the curlytops rode away over the prairie. chapter xviii lost clipclap and star face, the two sturdy little ponies, trotted bravely along, carrying teddy and janet on their backs. the ponies did not wonder where they were going--they hardly ever did that. they were satisfied to go wherever their master or mistress guided them, for they knew the children would be good to them. "do you s'pose we'll find any indians?" asked janet after a while. "maybe," answered teddy. "are you scared?" "no," replied his sister slowly. "i was just thinking maybe we could find 'em, and get back uncle frank's horses, even if the cowboys didn't." "maybe we could!" cried teddy. "that would be _great_! wouldn't daddy be surprised!" "and uncle frank, too!" added janet "yes, and the cowboys! then they'd think we could ride all right!" went on ted. "come on, let's hurry! gid-dap!" he called to clipclap. "where are we going first?" asked janet. "to the rocks, where we found my pony in the cave," answered her brother, as he patted the little animal on the neck. "the cowboy said he saw the indians near there." "maybe they're hiding in the cave," suggested janet. "no, they wouldn't do that," teddy decided, after thinking it over awhile. "they'd be afraid to stay so near uncle frank's ranch. anyhow the cave isn't big enough." "it was big enough for clipclap." "yes, but he's a little pony. anyhow, we'll look in the cave and then we'll ride on along the trail until we catch up to daddy and uncle frank." "what'll they say?" "i guess they'll be s'prised." "maybe they'll make us go back." "well, if they do we'll have some fun, anyhow," said teddy, laughing. "gid-dap, clipclap." "it's a good thing we've two ponies instead of one goat," remarked janet, after they had ridden on a little farther. "course it is," agreed ted. "we couldn't both ride nicknack, though he could pull us both in the wagon." "maybe he'd be afraid of indians," suggested janet. "no, i don't guess he would," answered teddy, after some reflection. "nicknack's a brave goat. i like him. but i like clipclap, too." "and i like star face," added janet "he's an awful nice pony." on and on the ponies trotted, carrying the curlytops farther and farther from the ring rosy ranch house. but the children were not afraid. the sun was shining brightly, and they had often before ridden this far alone. they could look back at the ranch buildings when they got on top of the little hills with which the prairie was dotted, and they were not lonesome. off on either side they could see groups of horses or cattle that belonged to uncle frank, and ted and janet thought there must be cowboys with the herds. "i'm going to get a drink when we get to the rocks," said janet, as they came within sight of the pile of big stones. "yes. and we'll give the ponies some, too," agreed her brother. "i guess they're thirsty." indeed the little animals were thirsty, and after they had rested a while--for uncle frank had told the children it was not wise to let a horse or pony drink when it was too warm--clipclap and star face had some of the cool water that bubbled up among the rocks. "it tastes awful good!" exclaimed janet, as she took some from the cup ted filled for her. after clipclap had been found at the spring, the time he was hidden in the cave, one of the cowboys had brought a tin cup to the spring, leaving it there, so if anyone passed the spring it would be easy to get a drink without having to use a hat or kneel down on the ground. for horses and cattle there was a little rocky basin into which the cool water flowed. "i wish we could take some of the water with us," said teddy, when, after a rest, they were ready to follow the trail again. "if we had a bottle, like some of the cowboys carry, we could," remarked janet. "maybe we'll get awful thirsty if we ride on a long way, ted." "maybe we will, but maybe we can find another spring. i heard uncle frank say there's more than one on the ranch. come on!" the children took another drink, and offered some to the ponies, each of which took a little. then, once more, the curlytops were on the trail after the indians, as they believed. "which way do we go now?" asked janet, as she watched teddy get up in his saddle after he had helped her mount star face. "we've got to follow the trail," teddy answered. "how do we do it?" his sister inquired. "well. i asked baldy and he said just look on the ground for tracks in the dirt. you know the kind of marks a horse's foot makes, don't you, jan?" "yes, and i see some down here," and she pointed to the ground. "that's them!" exclaimed teddy. "we've got to follow the marks! that's the trail!" "is this the indians' trail?" asked the little girl, and she looked over her shoulder, perhaps to make sure no one was following her and her brother. "i don't know if it's the indians' trail, or, maybe, the marks left by uncle frank and daddy," said teddy. "anyhow we've got to follow the trail. that's what baldy said." "he doesn't know we came off alone, does he?" asked janet "no. i guess he wouldn't have let us if he did. but we won't have to go very far, and then we'll catch up to the rest. then they'll have to take us with 'em." "yes," said janet, and she rode along beside her brother. neither of the curlytops stopped to think that their father, uncle frank and the cowboys had started off early that morning, and must have ridden on many miles ahead. the cowboys' horses, too, could go faster than the ponies star pace and clipclap, for the larger horses had longer legs. all teddy and janet thought of was hurrying along as fast as they could go, in order to catch up to the indian hunters. what would happen after that they did not know. all at once, as the curlytops were riding along, they heard what they thought was a whistle. "some one is calling us," said janet, turning to look back. "did you hear that, ted?" "yes, i heard a whistle. maybe it's uncle frank, or some of the cowboys." the children looked across the prairie but could see no one. they were about to go on again when the whistle sounded once more. "that is some one calling us," declared jan. "let's see if we can't find who it is, teddy." so the children looked around again, but no one was in sight, and, what was still stranger, the whistling sound kept up. "it's some one playing a joke on us, and hiding after they whistle," said janet. "maybe one of the cowboys from the ranch." "maybe an indian," said ted, and then he was sorry he had said that, for his sister looked frightened. "oh!" said janet, "if it's an indian--" "i don't guess it is," teddy hastened to say. "i guess indians don't whistle, anyhow." this made janet feel better and once more she and her brother looked around to see what made the queer whistling sound, that still kept up. it was just like a boy calling to another, and teddy was quite puzzled over it until he suddenly saw what was doing it. perched on a small mound of earth near a hole in the ground, was a little animal, about as big as a large rat, though, as janet said, he was "nicer looking." and as ted and his sister looked, they saw this little animal move, and then they knew he it was that was whistling. "oh, what is it?" cried janet. "i know," teddy answered. "that's a prairie dog. baldy told me about them, and how they whistled when they saw any danger." "is there any danger here?" asked janet, looking around. "i guess the prairie dog thinks we're the danger," said teddy. "but we wouldn't hurt him." "does he live down in that hole?" asked janet. "yes, just like a gopher," answered her brother, who had listened to the cowboys telling about the little prairie dogs. "and sometimes there are snakes or an owl in the same hole with the prairie dog." "then i'm not going any nearer," decided janet. "i don't mind an owl, but i don't like snakes! come on, ted, let's hurry." as they started off, the prairie dog, which really did make a whistling sound, suddenly darted down inside his burrow or hole. perhaps he thought teddy and janet were coming to carry him off, but they were not. the children saw many more of the little animals as they rode over the prairies. "but we must look for marks--tracks, baldy calls them," said teddy. "tracks will tell us which way the indians went," and so the children kept their eyes turned toward the sod as they rode along. for a while they could see many marks in the soft ground--the marks of horses' feet, some shod with iron shoes and others bare, for on the prairie grass there is not the same need of iron shoes on the hoofs of horses as in the city, with its hard, paved streets. then the marks were not so plain; and pretty soon, about a mile from the spring amid the rocks where the ground was quite hard, teddy and janet could see no marks at all. "which way do we go?" asked ted's sister, as he called to his pony to stop. "do you know the way?" "no, i don't guess i do," he answered. "but anyhow we can ride along and maybe well see 'em." "yes, we can do that," janet said. it was still early in the afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly. they knew they were still on uncle frank's ranch, and, though they could not see the buildings any more, they could see the place where they had had a drink at the spring. "all we've got to do, if we want to come back," observed teddy, "is ride to the rocks and then we know the way home from there." "yes, that's easy," janet said. so they rode on and on. of course the curlytops ought not to have done what they did, but they did not think, any more than trouble thought when he opened the corral gate and let out the ponies. but the sun did not stay high in the sky all the afternoon. presently the bright ball of fire began to go down in the west, and the shadows of teddy and janet grew long on the prairie. they knew what those long shadows meant--that it was getting late afternoon. after a while janet turned in her saddle and looked back. "oh, teddy!" she cried. "i can't see the spring rocks," for that is what the children had called the place where they had found clipclap. "they're back there just the same." "i know. but if we can't see 'em we won't know how to ride back to them," went on janet. "how are we going to find our way back home, ted?" "oh, i can get to the rocks when i want to," he said. "come on, we'll ride a little bit farther and then, if we can't find daddy and uncle frank, we'll go back." "well, don't go much farther," said janet, and teddy said he would not. there were many hills and hollows now, much higher and deeper ones than those near the ranch buildings. even from the top of one of the high hills up which the ponies slowly climbed, the curlytops could not see the spring rocks. "oh, ted!" exclaimed jan, "i'm afraid! i want to go back! it's going to be night pretty soon!" "it won't be night for a good while," he said, "but i guess maybe we'd better go back. i can't see daddy, uncle frank or the cowboys." he raised himself in the stirrups and looked across the prairies, shading his eyes with his hand the way he had seen some of the cowboys do. nothing was in sight. "come on, jan, we'll go back," he said. clipclap and star face were turned around. once more off trotted the little ponies with the curlytops on their backs. the shadows grew longer. it was not so bright and nice on the prairies now. janet kept close to teddy. at last she asked: "do you see the rocks?" "not yet," her brother answered. "but we'll soon be there." they did not reach them, however. on and on they rode. the sun went down behind a bank of clouds. "oh, dear!" sighed janet, "i don't like this," and her voice sounded as if she were going to cry. "we'll soon be back at the rocks, and then i know the way home," said teddy, as bravely as he could. but they did not reach the rocks. up the hollows and across the hills they rode, over the broad prairies, but no rocks did they see. at last the ponies began to go more slowly, for they were tired. it grew darker. ted looked anxiously about. janet spoke softly to him. "teddy," she asked, "are we--are we--lost?" for a moment teddy did not answer. then he replied slowly: "yes--i guess we are lost, janet!" chapter xix the hidden valley the curlytops were in trouble. it was not the first time they had been lost, no indeed! but it was the first time they could remember being lost so far away from home, and in such a big place as a western prairie. they did not know what to do. "don't you know the way home?" asked janet, still keeping close to her brother. it was getting dark, and, somehow, she felt safer near him, even if he was only a year older than she was. "i'd know the way home back to the ranch house if we could find the rocks with the cave where clipclap was," teddy replied. "let's look for them some more," suggested janet. "if we don't get home pretty soon we'll be all in the dark and--and we'll have to stay out here all alone." "are you afraid?" asked ted, looking at his sister. "yes. won't you be?" "pooh! no!" he exclaimed, and he talked loudly, perhaps just so he would not be afraid. you know a boy always whistles very loudly at night when he is walking along a dark place alone. and if there are two boys they both whistle. what girls do when they walk through a dark place alone i do not know. maybe they sing. anyhow teddy talked very loud, and when janet heard him say he was not afraid she felt better. "but will we have to stay out here all night?" she asked. "i guess so." teddy answered. "but it'll be just like camping out. daddy and uncle frank and the cowboys are going to stay out." "yes, but they've got something to eat," objected janet, "and we haven't anything. not even a cookie--lessen you've got one in your pocket, teddy." "no, jan," answered her brother, after a quick search, "i haven't. i forgot to bring any." "so did i," went on janet. "i don't think i like to stay out here alone all night if we haven't anything to eat." "no, it won't be much fun," agreed teddy. "i guess maybe i can find those rocks, janet, and then we'll know how to get home. come on." he turned his pony's head and the tired little animal walked slowly on and janet's star face followed. but the truth of the matter was, ted did not know in which direction to guide his little horse. he could not remember where the rocks lay. but janet was trusting to him, and he felt he must do his best. so he kept on until it grew a little darker, and his pony was walking so slowly that trouble would have found it easy to have walked almost as fast. "what's the matter?" asked janet, who was riding behind her brother, looking as hard as she could through the darkness for a sight of the rocks, which, once they were reached, almost meant home. "what's the matter, ted?" "matter with what, jan?" "what makes the ponies go so slow?" "'cause they're tired, i guess." "can't you find the rocks and let them rest and get a drink? i'm awful thirsty, teddy!" "so'm i, jan. we'll go on a little more and maybe we'll find the rocks. don't cry!" "pooh! who's goin' to cry?" demanded janet quickly. "i--i thought maybe you were," teddy answered. "i am not!" and janet was very positive about it. "but i'm tired and hungry, and i want a drink awful bad." "so do i," added teddy. "we'll go on a little more." so, wearily, the ponies walked on carrying the curlytops. ted kept looking ahead, and to the left and right, trying to find the rocks. but, had he only known it (which he did later) he was going away from them all the while instead of toward them. all at once clipclap stumbled and nearly fell. "whoa there! look out!" cried teddy, reining up the head of his animal as he had seen uncle frank do. "don't fall, clipclap!" "what's the matter?" asked janet. "did he step in a hole?" "i don't know. i guess he's just tired," and teddy's voice was sad. for he was very weary and much frightened, though he did not tell janet so. "well, let's stop and rest," said his sister. "do you think you can find those rocks, ted?" "no, i don't guess i can. i guess we're lost, janet." "oh, dear!" she answered. "now don't cry!" warned teddy. "i--i'm not!" exclaimed his sister. "i--i was just blowing my nose, so there, the-o-dore mar-tin!" teddy grinned in the darkness, tired as he was. he was glad janet was a little angry with him. that meant she would not cry, and if his sister started to weep ted did not know what he would do. he might even cry himself. he was not too big for that. "let's stop and give the ponies a rest," suggested janet. "all right," agreed teddy. "and maybe they can hunt around and find water. one of the cowboys told me his pony did that once when he didn't know where to get a drink himself." "i wish star face could find water," went on janet. "i'd drink some of it, too." "so would i--if it was clean," said teddy. wearily the two curlytops slipped from their saddles. the ponies seemed glad of this, and at once began to eat the grass that grew all about. teddy and janet looked at them awhile. it was not so dark but what they could see things close to them, and the stars were twinkling brightly overhead. "they don't seem very thirsty," said janet. "maybe they'll start to go after water when they've had their supper," suggested her brother, with a sigh, which, however, janet did not hear. "we've got to wait--that's all." the curlytops sat down on the ground and waited, while the ponies with the reins over their heads--which was a sign that they must not go far away--cropped the sweet grass. "i wish _we_ could eat grass," said janet, after a bit. "why?" "then we could eat it like the ponies do and not be hungry." "it would be a good thing," teddy agreed. "but we can't. i chewed some sour grass once, but i didn't swallow it." "i ate some watercress once at home," said janet. "but i didn't like it. anyhow i don't guess watercress grows around here." "no," agreed teddy. then they sat and watched the ponies eating in the darkness. clipclap was wandering farther off than teddy liked and he jumped up and hurried after his animal. as he caught him teddy saw something on the ground a little way off. it was something round and black, and, now that the moon had come up, he could see more plainly. "what's the matter, teddy?" janet called to him, as she saw him standing motionless, after he had taken hold of clipclap's bridle. "what are you looking at?" "i don't know what it is," teddy answered. "maybe it's a prairie dog, but he's keepin' awful still. come and look, janet." "oh, i don't want to!" she exclaimed. "oh, come on!" urged teddy. "it isn't moving. maybe you can tell what it is." janet, making sure that star face was all right, walked over to her brother. she, too, saw the dark object lying on a bare spot in the prairie. it did not move. the moonlight became stronger and janet, becoming brave all of a sudden, went closer. "it's nothing but a bundle, teddy martin!" she exclaimed. "somebody has dropped a bundle." "they have?" teddy cried. "then if somebody's been past here they can find us--or we can find them--and we aren't lost anymore!" "oh, i hope it comes true!" sighed janet. "here, you hold clipclap--he's starting to walk away"--went on teddy, "and i'll go see what that is." janet took the pony's reins, and her brother walked toward the bundle. he could see now that it was something wrapped in a blanket, and as he came closer he saw that the blanket was one of the kind the cowboys at uncle frank's ranch carried when they went out to spend the night on the prairie. "what is it?" asked janet, as her brother picked up the bundle and came back toward her. "i don't know, but it's heavy," he answered. "well open it." "maybe we'd better not," cautioned janet. "it isn't ours." "but we're lost," teddy said, "and we want to be found. maybe there's something in this bundle to help." the blanket was fastened with a strap on the outside, and teddy managed to unbuckle this after two or three trials, janet helping. then, as the moon shone down on what was in the blanket, the curlytops gave a cry of delight, which startled even the ponies. "it's something to eat!" cried teddy. "and to drink!" added janet, as she picked up the canvas-covered canteen, or water bottle, such as soldiers carry. by shaking it she knew it was full of water. "say, this is good luck!" cried teddy. stopping no longer to wonder who had dropped the bundle, the curlytops took a drink from the canteen. they had not been used to drinking out of a bottle since they were babies, and some of the water ran down their necks. but they did not mind this. and, even though the water was rather warm, they felt much better after having had a drink. "i wish we could give the ponies some," said janet. "but there isn't very much, and they would drink this all up and not know they'd had any." "anyhow i guess they're not thirsty, or they'd try to find water just as the cowboys said they would," added teddy. "they can chew the grass." he and janet looked into the bundle again, and found a number of sandwiches, together with some uncooked bacon, a little ground coffee, a small coffee-pot and a tin cup. "oh, goody! we can eat the sandwiches," janet said. "and in the morning, when we find a spring, we can make coffee," added teddy. "i know how, 'cause grandpa showed me when we were camping on star island. i haven't any matches to make a fire, but maybe i can find some." "will we have to stay here all night?" asked janet anxiously. "i spect so," her brother answered. "i don't know the way back to the ranch house. we can't even find the rocks. we'll stay here all night. it isn't cold, and now we have a blanket we can wrap up in it like the cowboys do. and we've something to eat and drink." "but mother and daddy will be awful worried," said janet. "well, they'll maybe come and find us," answered teddy. "look out!" he cried. "clipclap's going off again!" indeed the little pony seemed to want to walk away, and so did star face. "maybe they know where to go to find water," suggested janet. "maybe," agreed ted. "let's let 'em go, and we'll go with 'em. that water in the canteen won't be enough till morning." the children ate nearly all of the sandwiches, and put away the rest of the food in the blanket which teddy strapped around it. then they mounted their ponies, ted taking the bundle with him, and let the animals wander which way they would. "they'll go to water if they're thirsty enough," teddy said. "who do you s'pose dropped that bundle?" asked janet. "a cowboy," her brother answered. "one from ring rosy ranch?" "maybe." "oh, i hope he did, and that he's around here somewhere," went on janet. "i'm tired of being lost!" "we've only just begun," teddy said. but, truth to tell, he wished very much that they were both safe back at the ranch house with their mother. on and on over the moonlit prairies went star face and clipclap. they seemed to know where they were going and did not stop. ted and janet were too tired to guide them. they were both getting sleepy. pretty soon janet saw ahead of her something glistening in the stretch of the prairie. the moonlight seemed to sparkle on it. "oh, look, ted!" she cried, pointing. "it's water--a little river!" he exclaimed. "the ponies have led us to water!" and so the animals had. teddy and janet slipped from their ponies' backs at the edge of the stream and then star face and clipclap took long drinks. ted emptied the canteen, filled it with the cooler water, and he and janet drank again. then they felt much better. the ponies again began to crop the grass. the curlytops, very tired and sleepy, felt that it would be all right to make their bed in the blanket they had found, dropped by some passing cowboy. but first ted looked around. off to one side, and along the stream from which they had drunk, he saw something dark looming up. "look, janet," he said. "maybe that's a ranch house over there, and we could go in for the night." "maybe," she agreed. "let's go to it." once more they mounted their ponies. the animals did not seem so tired now, but trotted on over the prairie. they drew nearer to the dark blotch teddy had noticed. then, as the moon came out from behind some clouds, the curlytops saw that they were at the entrance to a hidden valley--a little valley tucked away among the hills, which they would never have seen had they not come to the stream to drink. the little river ran through the valley, and in the moonlight the children could see that a fence had been made at the end nearest them. it was a wooden fence, and not one of barbed wire, such as there were many of on ring rosy ranch. "this is a queer valley," said janet. "yes, and look!" exclaimed ted, pointing. "don't you see things moving around in it?" "yes," agreed jan, as she looked. "why, ted!" she cried. "they're horses--ponies--a lot of 'em!" "so they are!" exclaimed ted. "oh, we're near a ranch, janet! now we're all right!" "yes. but maybe we're a good way from the ranch house," answered janet. "we maybe can't find it in the dark. some of uncle frank's ponies are five miles away from the stable, you know. maybe we'd better not go on any more in the dark. i'm tired!" "well," agreed teddy. "i guess we could stay here till it's morning. we could sleep in the blanket. it's plenty big enough for us two." "and in the morning we can ride on and find the ranch, and the cowboys there will take us to ring rosy," added janet. "let's do it, teddy." they looked again at the strange valley in which the horses were moving about. clipclap whinnied and one of the other ponies answered. but they could not come out because of the fence, part of which was built in and across the little river. then, throwing the reins over the heads f their ponies, and knowing the animals would not stray far, ted and janet, taking another drink from the canteen, rolled up in the blanket and went to sleep on the prairie just outside the hidden valley that held a secret of which they did not even dream. chapter xx back to ring rosy "i hope the curlytops won't ride too far," said mrs. martin, coming out into the kitchen to help with the work. she had just got trouble to sleep after teddy and janet had brought him in from the haymow before riding off on their ponies. "oh, i guess they won't," aunt millie answered. but, could mrs. martin and aunt millie have seen them, they would have been much surprised to know where the curlytops then were. as you know, they were riding along the trail after the indians. the hours went on until it was late afternoon. and then, when the children did not come back, mrs. martin began to be alarmed. she went to the top of a low hill not far away from the ranch house and looked across the prairie. "i can't see them," she said, when she came back. "oh, don't worry," returned aunt millie. "they'll be along pretty soon. and, anyhow, there is no danger." "but--the indians?" questioned mrs. martin. "oh, they are far enough off by this time," said the ranch owner's wife. "they won't bother the curly tops." but mother martin did worry, and when supper time came near and janet and teddy were not yet back, aunt millie, too, began to think it strange. "what do you suppose could happen?" asked mrs. martin. "i wish dick were here." "oh, lots of little things might happen," said aunt millie. "the children may have ridden farther than they meant to. it's such a nice day for riding you couldn't blame them for going. or one of their ponies may have gone lame and have to walk slowly. that would make them get here late." "suppose they should be hurt?" asked mother martin, anxiously. "oh, i don't suppose anything of the sort!" and aunt millie laughed. but mother martin did not feel like laughing. at last, however, when it began to get dark and the children had not come, even the cowboys left at the ranch--those who had not ridden on the trail after the indians--said it was time something was done. "we'll go out and find 'em," said baldy. "the little tykes have got lost; that's about all. we'll find 'em and bring 'em home!" "oh, i hope you can!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "sure we will!" cried baldy. "won't we, boys?" "that's what we will!" cried the cowboys. the men started out over the prairie right after supper, carrying lanterns, not so much that they needed the lights as that they might be seen by the lost children. "hello, curlytops! where are you?" called the cowboys. but no one answered them. teddy and janet were far away. the cowboys rode as far as the pile of rocks where the spring bubbled up. there baldy, swinging his lantern to and fro, said he thought he could see the marks of the feet of star face and clipclap among those of other ponies, but he was not sure. "we'll have to come back here and start out early in the morning when we can see better," he said. "and what are we going to do all night?" asked another cowboy. "well, we'll keep on hunting, of course. but i don't believe well find the lost curlytops." one of the men rode back to the ranch to tell mrs. martin that so far, no trace of the missing children had been found. she could not keep back her tears, but she tried to be brave. "oh, where can they be?" she asked. "they'll be all right," the cowboy said. "it's a nice warm night, and they're brave children. even if they had to sleep out it would not hurt 'em. they could take the blankets that are under the ponies' saddles and wrap up in them. they'll be all right." though they were lost, the curlytops were, at that moment, much better off than the cowboy thought. for they had found the big blanket and the bundle of food, and they were sleeping soundly on the prairie. at first they had been a little afraid to lie down all alone out in the night, but their ponies were with them, and janet said it felt as though clipclap and star face were like good watch dogs. then, being very tired and having had something to eat and drink, they fell asleep. all night long, though, the cowboys rode over the prairie looking for the lost ones. they shouted and called, but the curlytops were too far away to hear or to answer, even if they had been awake. "well, now we can make a better hunt," said baldy, when he saw the sun beginning to rise. "well get something to eat and start out from the spring in the rocks. i'm almost sure the curlytops were there." mrs. martin had not slept all night, and when the cowboys came back to breakfast she said she was going to ride with them to search for her children. "yes, i think it would do you good," said aunt millie. mrs. martin had learned how to ride when a girl, and she had practised some since coming to ring rosy ranch. so she did not feel strange in the saddle. with baldy and the other cowboys she set off. they went to the spring amid the rocks and there began the search. over the prairie the riders spread out like a big fan, looking everywhere for the lost ones. and when they were not found in about an hour baldy said: "well, there's just a chance that their ponies took them to silver creek." "where's that?" asked mrs. martin. "it's a stream of water quite a way off," baldy answered. "it isn't on our ranch, and we don't very often go there. but if the curlytops' ponies were thirsty in the night they might go to silver creek, even if jan and ted didn't want them to. i think the ponies went the nearest way to water." "then let us go that way!" cried mrs. martin. meanwhile teddy and janet had awakened. they could look right into the strange valley through which flowed silver creek, though they did not then know its name. "and look what a lot of horses!" cried janet. "and cows!" added her brother. "i wonder whose they are?" "oh, i guess they live on some ranch," janet said. "now if we can find the ranch house we'll be all right." "we'll look for it," suggested teddy. "but first we've got to have breakfast. if i had a match i could make a fire and boil some coffee." "let's not bother with breakfast," suggested janet. "i'm not very hungry. and if we find the ranch house we can get something to eat there. come on, teddy." they got a drink at the stream, and then, rolling up what food was left in the blanket, they got on their ponies and rode away, going around the valley instead of into it, for teddy saw that hills closed it at the far end. "there's no ranch house in that valley," he said. the curlytops had not ridden far before janet, who had gone a little ahead of teddy, cried: "oh, look! here come some cowboys!" "i guess they belong to this ranch--the one where we saw the ponies and cows," replied teddy, as he saw a number of horsemen riding toward them. the horsemen began to whoop and shout, and their horses ran very fast toward the curlytops. "there's a lady with 'em," remarked janet. "they seem awful glad to meet us," went on teddy. "look, they're wavin' their hats." and so the cowboys were. when the riders came a little nearer teddy and janet rubbed their eyes in surprise. "why--why!" teddy exclaimed. "there's our own baldy!" "and there's mother!" fairly shouted janet. "oh, mother! mother!" she cried. "oh, how glad i am!" and she made star face run toward the lady on horseback. "oh, my dear children! where have you been?" asked mrs. martin, a little later, as she hugged first janet and then teddy. "we--we got lost," teddy answered. "yes, but you ran away, and that was not right," his mother told him. "where did you go?" "we--we went on the trail after the indians," teddy answered. "did you find them?" asked baldy with a smile. "no, but we found a lot of horses and cows back there in a little valley with a fence," said janet. "and we were going to ride to the ranch house when we saw you." "ranch house!" cried baldy. "there isn't a ranch house within fifteen miles except the one at ring rosy. did you say you saw some cows and horses!" "yes. in a valley," explained teddy. "show us where it was!" eagerly cried the cowboy, and when the curlytops had ridden to it, with baldy and the others following, the lame cowboy, whose foot was a little better, exclaimed: "well, if the curlytops haven't gone and done it!" "done what?" asked their mother. "they've found the lost cattle and horses!" "you mean uncle frank's!" asked teddy. "that's just what i mean! these are the horses and cattle the indians drove away. the redmen put the animals in this valley and made a fence at this end so they couldn't get out. they knew the horses and cattle would have water to drink and grass to eat, and they'd stay here a long while--until the indians would have a chance to drive 'em farther away and sell 'em. "yes, that's just what they did. i never thought of this valley, though i saw it quite a few years ago. i've never been here since. the indians knew it would be a good place to hide the horses they stole, and we might never have found 'em if it hadn't been for you curlytops." "i'm glad!" said teddy. "so'm i," said janet, "and i'm hungry, too!" "well, well soon have you back at ring rosy ranch, where there's a good breakfast!" laughed baldy. "well! well! to think of you curlytops finding what we cowboys were looking all over for!" "and are daddy and uncle frank looking for these horses and cattle?" asked teddy. "yes. and for the indians that took 'em. but i guess they won't find either," baldy answered. and baldy was right. some hours after the curlytops were back at ring rosy ranch, in rode uncle frank and the others. they had not found what they had gone after, and you can imagine how surprised they all were when told that ted and janet had, by accident, found the lost cattle and horses in the hidden valley. "you're regular cowboys!" cried uncle frank. "i knew they'd turn out all right when they learned to ride ponyback!" said daddy martin. "though you mustn't ride on the trail alone after indians again!" he said. teddy and janet told all that had happened to them, from getting lost, to finding the blanket and going to sleep in it on the open prairie. one of the cowboys with uncle frank had lost the blanket, and he said he was glad he dropped it, since it gave teddy and janet something to eat and something to wrap up in. that afternoon the stolen horses and cattle were driven in from the hidden valley; so the indians did not get them after all. and a little later some soldiers came to keep guard over the redmen so they could not again go off their reservation to make trouble. all of uncle frank's animals, except a few that the indians had sold, were found, and the curlytops were the pride of ring rosy ranch as long as they remained there. "well, i wonder if we'll have any more adventures," said janet to her brother one day, about a week after they were lost and had been found. "oh, i guess so," he answered. "anyhow, we've got two nice ponies, and we can have lots of rides. come on, i'll race you." the bright summer days brought more fun to teddy and janet at uncle frank's ranch. they rode many miles on star face and clipclap, sometimes taking trouble with them. "i want to dwive," said the little fellow one day, as he sat on the saddle in front of his brother. "all right, you may drive a little while," teddy answered, and he let baby william hold the reins. "now i a cowboy!" exclaimed the little fellow. "gid-dap, clipclap! i go lasso a injun!" ted and janet laughed at this. and so, leaving the curlytops to their fun, we will say good-bye. the end none the boy ranchers among the indians or trailing the yaquis by willard f. baker author of "the boy ranchers," "the boy ranchers in camp," "the boy ranchers on the trail," etc. illustrated new york cupples & leon company copyright, , by cupples & leon company the boy ranchers among the indians contents chapter i company coming ii the telegram iii "get ready, boys!" iv on the trail v rosemary and floyd vi prisoners vii into the mountains viii shooting stars ix a lone indian x shots from ambush xi the surprise xii forward again xiii weary captives xiv surrounded xv with the troopers xvi indian "sign" xvii an alarm xviii separated xix the fight xx the white flag xxi the trick discovered xxii anxious hours xxiii the last stand xxiv the ruse of rosemary xxv "all's well!" the boy ranchers among the indians chapter i company coming high and clear the sweet, western wind brought over the rolling hills the sound of singing. at least it was singing of a sort, for there was a certain swing and rhythm accompanying the words. as the melody floated toward them, three young cowboys, seated at ease in their saddles, looked up and in the direction of the singer. thus the song. "oh, bury me out on th' lonesome prairie! put a stone under my haid! cover me up with a rope an' a saddle! 'cause why? my true-love is daid * * * * * *" it is impossible in cold print to indicate the mournful and long-drawn-out accent on the word "dead," to rhyme with head. "here comes slim!" exclaimed one of the youthful cow punchers to his companions. "as if we didn't know that, dick!" laughed the slighter of two lads who, from their close resemblance, could be nothing less than brothers. "his voice doesn't improve with age; does it, nort?" asked bud merkel, smiling at his cousins, norton and richard shannon. "but he means well," declared nort with a chuckle. "oh, you slim!" he shouted, as a tall lanky individual, mounted on a pony of like proportions, ambled into view, topping a slight rise of the trail. "oh, you slim!" the older cowboy--a man, to be exact--who had been about to break forth into the second, or forty-second verse of his song (there being in all seventy-two stanzas, so it doesn't much matter which one is designated)--the older cowboy, i say, paused with his mouth open, and a blank look on his face. then he grinned--that is the only word for it--and cried: "well, i'm a second cousin to a ham sandwich! where'd you fellows come from?" "we haven't come--we're just going!" laughed bud. "we're going over to see dad and the folks. how are they all?" "oh, they're sittin' pretty! sittin' pretty!" affirmed slim degnan, with a mingled smile and grin. "how'd you fellows come out with your spring round-up?" "pretty fair," admitted bud. "a few steers short of what we figured on, but that's nothing." "i should say not!" chuckled slim. "your paw was a heap sight worse off'n that." "rustlers again?" asked nort quickly, as he and his brother glanced at one another. they had not forgotten the stirring times when they were on the trail of the ruthless men who had raided diamond x ranch, and their own cattle range. "no, nothin' like that," answered slim easily. "just natural depravity, so to speak. some of 'em ate loco weed and others jest got too tired of livin' i reckon. but we come out pretty fair. just got th' last bunch shipped, an' i'm mighty glad of it." "same here!" spoke dick. "that's why we came over here--on a sort of vacation." "i reckon some other folks is headin' this way on th' same sort of ideas," remarked slim degnan, as he rolled a cigarette with one hand, a trick for which the boys had no use, though they could but admire the skill of the foreman. "what do you mean?" asked bud. "is dad going to take a vacation? if he does--" "don't worry, son! don't worry!" laughed slim, as he ignited a match by the simple process of scratching the head with his thumb nail. "cattle will have to fetch a heap sight more'n they do now when he takes a few days off," declared the foreman. "what i meant was that some tenderfeet individuals are headin'--" slim did not finish the sentence for he was nearly thrown from his saddle (something most unusual with him) as his pony gave a sudden leap to one side, following a peculiar noise in a bunch of grass on which the animal almost stepped. the noise was not unlike that made by a locust in a tree on a hot day, but there was in the vibrations a more sinister sound. and well did slim's horse know what it indicated. "a rattler!" yelled bud, and close on the heels of his words followed action. he whipped out his . , there was a sliver of flame, a sharp crack at which the three steeds of the trio of youthful cowboys jumped slightly, and there writhed on the trail a venomous rattle-snake, its head now a shapeless mass where the bullet from bud's gun had almost obliterated it. "whew! a big one!" exclaimed slim, who had quickly gotten his pony under control again, and turned it back toward the scene of action. it spoke well for his ability that he had not lost his cigarette, and was puffing on it, though the sudden leap of his steed, to avoid a bite that probably would have meant death, had jarred the words from his mouth. "first of the season," added bud, slipping his gun back into the holster. "are they more poisonous then than at other times?" asked nort. "guess there isn't much difference, son," affirmed slim. "i don't want to be nipped by one at any time. much obliged, bud," he said, easily enough, though there was a world of meaning in his voice. "i shore plum would hate to have to shoot pinto, and that's what i'd a done if that serpent had set its fangs in his leg." "why'd he shoot him?" asked dick, for he and his brother, though far removed from the tenderfoot class, were not wise to all western ways yet. "there isn't much chance for a horse after it's been bit deep by a rattler," bud explained. "of course i don't say every horse that's bitten will die, but it's harder to doctor them than it is a man. and slim meant he wouldn't want to see pinto suffer." "you're right there, bud!" drawled slim degnan. "they do say this new-fangled treatment is better'n whisky for snake bites, but i don't reckon i want to chance it." "the permanganate of potash is almost a sure cure for the ordinary snake bite, if you use it in time," declared bud. "but i don't know that it would work after a _fer de lance_ set his fangs into you. anyhow i'm glad we haven't anything worse than rattlers and copperheads around here." "they're bad enough!" affirmed slim, as he gave a backward glance toward the still writhing form of the big rattler, which was now past all power of doing harm. the incident seemed to cause the foreman to forget what he had been about to say when his horse shied, and the boy ranchers, by which title is indicated bud, nort and dick, did not attach enough importance to it to cause them to question their companion. yet what slim had been about to say was destined to have a great influence on their lives in the immediate future, and was to cause them to ride forward into danger. but then danger was nothing new to them. "well, things are right peaceful since we got rid of del pinzo and his gang of greasers," observed slim, as he rode on with the boys down the trail that led to diamond x ranch, the property of bud's father. "but i'm always worrying for fear they'll come back, or we'll have some sort of trouble with our cattle," observed dick. "it doesn't seem possible that over at our happy valley ranch we'll be let alone to do as we please." "don't cross a bridge until you hear the rattling of the planks!" paraphrased nort to his brother. "we're all right so far." "yes, things are sittin' right pretty for the present," declared slim. "well, here we are," he added, as a turn of the trail brought them within sight of the corrals and other parts of diamond x ranch. "and there's your folks," he added, as a woman and girl, standing in the yard of a red ranch house, began to wave their hands to the boys. "i see dad!" exclaimed end. "where?" asked nort. "over by the pony corral, talking to yellin' kid. looks like kid just came in with the mail." "he started after it when i rode out to look for a couple of strays," said slim. "beckon he jest come back. you boys'll hear more partic'lars now, i reckon." "particulars of what?" asked nort. "was that what you started to say when bud shot the rattler?" slim did not answer, the reason being that a moment later he was surrounded by a knot of laughing, pushing, jostling and shouting cowboys, who seemed to want the foreman to settle some disputed point. bud and his two cousin chums rode on and greeted mr. merkel and his wife, who was "ma" to every cowboy within fifty miles, and nell, who was bud's pretty sister. "hello, dad! hello, uncle henry!" was the greeting. "hello, sis!" "got any pie, nell?" added bud. "for nort and dick--yes," the girl answered. "but you won't want pie when you hear--" "say, what's all this mysterious news?" broke out bud. "first slim starts to tell us and then--" "rosemary and floyd are coming!" merrily cried nell. "rosemary and floyd?" questioned bud. "your cousins, or, to be more exact, your second cousins," explained mrs. merkel. "we had a letter last week saying they might come on from california, and now your father has just had a special delivery letter, saying they're on their way. they'll be here any time." "company's coming! company's coming!" joyously sang nell, for she was delighted with the news. "rosemary and floyd," repeated bud, "i don't seem--" "you haven't seen them in some years," his mother said. "but i'm sure you'll like them." "especially rosemary," laughed nort, and nell stuck out her tongue at him. "well, i'm glad they didn't come until after the spring round-up," spoke mr. merkel, looking at a letter he held. "we'll have more time, now, to be with 'em and show 'em around. i wonder--" but, as in the case of slim, he did not finish what he started to say, for there came an interruption, in its way almost as sinister as the whirring of the rattle-snake's tail. toward the ranch buildings came the sound of rapidly galloping hoofs, and as they all looked in the direction of the sound they saw, riding in toward them, one of the cowboys. "it's old billee dobb!" exclaimed yellin' kid in a voice that was, as usual, unnecessarily loud. "looks like rustlers were after him!" but none rode in pursuit of the veteran cowpuncher, though he was spurring his steed to its utmost. "they've broke out!" he yelled as soon as he was within hearing distance. "they've broke out! scatter my watermelon seeds, but they've broke out!" "what has?" demanded mr. merkel. "our steers?" "no! the yaquis!" "indians!" snapped out bud. "that's them, son! they've broke out--left the reservation, and they're headed this way! oh, rattle-snakes! get your guns ready! the yaquis have broke out!" the boy ranchers looked at each other and it can not be denied that there was a joyous light in their eyes. nell shrank closer to her father, and mr. merkel reached over and placed his hand in reassuring fashion on his wife's ample shoulder. "indians!" murmured dick. "i wonder--" "sure we can help fight 'em!" exclaimed nort, rightly guessing that this was his brother's question. chapter ii the telegram while the wind fluttered in his hand the letter from rosemary, telling of her plans to visit diamond x with her brother, and while mr. merkel looked anxiously at billee dobb on his panting steed, a far-off look was in the eyes of the ranchman. bud thought he knew what his father's air portended, and he was eager to speak, but he, as well as the others, felt the tenseness of the situation, and waited for what might come next. nell was about to speak, to voice her gladness that a girl companion was to come to the ranch, when mr. merkel remarked: "how come you heard all this, bill--i mean about the yaquis? none of it filtered here until you come up sweating lather!" "i met one of the deputy sheriffs in town," explained the veteran cow puncher. "he'd just got a telegraph message tellin' him to be on the lookout, as the redskins might be headed this way." "whoop-ee!" yelled bud, flapping his hat down on his pony's flank, thereby causing the animal to leap sideways. "think of it! indians! whoop-ee!" "it's dreadful!" murmured ma merkel. "i don't like to think about it!" "but, aunt, we have to think of it if the yaquis are coming this way," spoke nort. "we want to think of it to protect you and nell!" "that's right!" added dick, while some of the cowboys grinned at the eagerness and impetuosity of the boys. "shucks!" exclaimed mrs. merkel, getting back her nerve. "those yaquis are nothing more than a lot of greasers, anyhow. they'll turn home at the first sight of a few of the sheriff's posse. i don't believe i'll worry after all." "that's right!" shouted yellin' kid. "no need to worry when the bunch from happy valley joins with the diamond x outfit! we're a match for all the yaquis that never washed!" "let's don't be too sure of that, boys," cautioned mr. merkel. "what more did you hear, billee dobb? is it at all serious? how many of the imps broke loose?" "that i don't know, there's enough of 'em to make the government take action. some of the regular troops have received orders to move, and they're on their way now. if there were only a scattered few of the yaquis, uncle sam wouldn't be so anxious. they've raided one arizona town, i heard." "they have!" cried nort, dick and bud in a breath. "why this must have happened several days ago," exclaimed mr. merkel. "the yaquis are quartered some distance from here, and news doesn't travel as fast as all that. how do you account for it, billee?" "well, the fellow who told me got his information from one of those scavengers," explained billee. "_scavengers_!" cried bud. "yes, you know--one of them fellers that go up in flyin' machines," explained the old cow puncher. "oh, you mean _aviators_!" exploded bud, trying not to laugh. "well, something like that, yes," admitted billee. "word of the rising of the indians was sent out by wireless, and some of the flying machines were ordered to the border. one of 'em who was flying around here had tire trouble, or something like that, and had to come down. it was from him the boys back in town got some of the news, and the deputy sheriff gave out the rest. "oh, the yaquis are risin' up all right, and they may come out here. i rode over like a prairie fire to let you folks know. we've had trouble enough here at diamond x and i didn't want any more." "much obliged to you, billee," said mr. merkel. "did you happen to hear what town it was in arizona that the yaquis raided?" "it was la--la--wait a minute now. it was one of those crazy spanish names. i'll tell you--la--la--la nogalique--that's it!" "la nogalique!" cried mr. merkel, and he looked at the letter from rosemary. "that's her!" affirmed the cowboy. "why--why!" exclaimed the ranchman, "that's the way they were coming--in their auto! la nogalique! they might have been there--" "who were coming?" asked his wife quickly. "rosemary and floyd; they'd be there just about--when was that raid, billee dobb?" cried mr. merkel. "last friday!" the ranchman whistled. "that's bad!" he murmured. "bad!" "would rosemary and her brother have reached there by then?" asked mrs. merkel. "just about," her husband replied slowly. "just about! this looks bad! boys, we've got to do something! those yaquis may just be off on a little harmless jamboree, or they may be excited by a lot of their medicine men, or whatever they call 'em! once let 'em get on the rampage, half mexicans as they are, and we won't know what to expect! it looks bad! i'm glad the round-up is over. it gives us time. boys, i think--" but what he thought mr. merkel did not disclose--at least for the time being. the attention of all was again attracted by the sound of rapid hoofbeats, and, looking toward the trail that led to town, a horseman was seen riding toward diamond x. by the manner of his approach it was easily assumed that he came on no ordinary errand. "more news of the indians, or i miss my guess!" murmured bud. and while the solitary horseman is rapidly approaching, i will endeavor to imitate his speed in acquainting my new readers with a little of the past history concerning the boy ranchers as they have played their parts in the previous books of this series. the initial volume is entitled "the boy ranchers," and tells how nort and dick shannon went to visit their cousin, bud merkel, on the ranch of the latter's father. this ranch, diamond x, was in a western state, not far from the mexican border. and, as you know, the yaqui indians were, in the main, a tribe of mexican redmen, who made their home partly in the land of montezuma and partly in arizona, as best pleased them. efforts were made by the mexican government to keep the yaquis on a reservation, but the efforts were not always successful. mr. merkel was a ranchman of experience, and planned to have his son follow in his footsteps. this bud was eager to do, and when his cousins came he saw a chance for them to get into the cattle raising business on their own account. this they did, but not before they had solved a strange mystery centering about diamond x. as you may recall, the ranch was named after the brand used to mark its cattle--an x within a diamond outline. the mystery solved, the boy ranchers turned their attention to other matters, and these are related in the second volume, "the boy ranchers in camp." mr. merkel, by using an ancient underground water course beneath snake mountain, had brought much-needed moisture to a distant valley he owned, thus making it possible to use it as a place for raising cattle. this new ranch, variously called happy valley, diamond x second, and buffalo wallow, was given in charge of the boys to experiment with. they were allowed to raise cattle on their own responsibility. without water diamond x second was out of the question. and the story in the second book has to do with the efforts of del pinzo, a dangerous character, and others, to drive away the boys. there was a fight over water rights, and another desperate fight, involving some strange ancient secrets. the third book, "the boy ranchers on the trail," deals with the boy ranchers after they have become full-fledged "cow punchers." so successful were they in happy valley that they incurred the enmity of del pinzo and his followers. cattle rustlers stole many valuable steers from bud and his cousins, and it was not until after a desperate encounter that the unscrupulous men were defeated. then, for a time, peace settled down over diamond x and the boys' ranch. the spring round-up was over, and a successful year begun, when the ordinary course of events was interrupted in the manner i have set down in the beginning of this book--by news that the yaquis had risen. all eyes were turned on the solitary horseman, who rode fast on the heels of billee dobb. as this rider came nearer, it could be seen that a paper fluttered in his hand. "special delivery letter, maybe," ventured dick. "maybe," admitted bud. "i--i have a feeling that it's bad news," murmured mrs. merkel to nell. "maybe not," bud's sister whispered. "it may be only a rush order for cattle to be shipped. "all that were fit have been shipped," her mother said. "i'm afraid--i'm afraid--" with a shower of gravel, scattered by the sliding feet of his hastily-reined pony, the man drew up in front of the group. "mr. henry merkel here?" he asked, crisply. "here," said bud's father, quietly. "got a telegraph message for you. it's from la nogalique!" "la nogalique!" murmured mr. merkel. "oh, i hope rosemary--" with a rapid motion mr. merkel tore open the yellow envelope. chapter iii "get heady, boys!" anxiously the boy ranchers and the others watched the face of the stockman as he read the message. it was rather lengthy, which accounted for the somewhat protracted time it took mr. merkel to get at the meaning of the words. but when he had read to the end he passed the missive to his wife, exclaiming, as he did so: "couldn't be much worse!" "are they killed?" cried nell, clasping her hands. "no, but maybe they'd better be," grimly answered her father. "rosemary and floyd are carried off by the yaquis!" he added. "how do you know?" "does the message say so?" "which way did they go?" these were the questions, fired in rapid succession, by bud, nort and dick. "that information's in the telegram," explained mr. merkel. "the message is to me from the sheriff of la nogalique, or at least from some one in his service, for it's signed with his name. i know him, slightly." "did he see rosemary and floyd carried off?" dick wanted to know. "not exactly. but wait. i'll read it so you may all hear," said mr. merkel, taking the missive from his wife's trembling hand. "old hank fowler didn't try to get it all in ten words so we have a pretty fair idea of what went on. reckon he knew he didn't have to pay for that message. it come out of the county funds i take it. listen to this, boys!" mr. merkel read: "'i regret to inform you that some relatives of yours were carried off in the last raid of the yaquis here. the indians came over the border from mexico and shot up this place (la nogalique). i was away, but some of the boys give them a fight, and drove them off. but they took with them some guns, cattle, what money they could steal and a young lady and gentleman who claim to know you. the way it happened was this. this young lady, named rosemary boyd, and her brother floyd, came here in an auto, from california. they give it out they were on their way to diamond x. but they hadn't more than reached town than the yaquis came in and shot things up. "'the indians took this young couple, and it was owing to the pluck of the girl that we knew what happened.'" "good for rosemary!" cried nell. "how did it happen?" "i'm coming to it," her father said, having paused to get his breath. it was dry work, talking so much and under the stress of excitement, and nell had broken in on him. "'as the indians were riding away, with this young lady and her brother,'" the message went on, "'she managed to scribble something on a piece of paper she tore from a note book. she tossed it to one of the cowboys who was shot in fighting the yaquis. he brought the girl's message to me after the fight, when i'd sent some of my men to trail the devils. this is what the message said, and i'm sending the actual message to you by mail. "get word to my uncle, henry merkel, diamond x ranch, that floyd and i are taken. ask him to send help." that's what the message said and i'm doing as requested. i've sent all the help i can, but the yaquis got the start on us, owing to the fact that i was out of town with a posse after rustlers. but we'll get that girl and boy back or bust every leg we've got, mr. merkel. and you can send on help if you want to and join us.'" the lengthy message was signed with the name "hank fowler," and when the reading was finished, mr. merkel glanced around at his listeners. "these young folks are some kin of yours, i take it?" asked old billee dobb. "sure," assented the ranchman. "more of my wife's than mine, but it's all the same. they were coming here on a visit, coming all the way from california by auto. i thought it was rather risky when they first wrote of it, but my wife says rosemary is a good driver, and floyd almost as good." "is he a westerner?" asked yellin' kid. "not born and raised here," said mr. merkel, "but floyd is no tenderfoot, and as for rosemary--" "she's a whole can of peaches! that's what she is!" cried bud. "to have the nerve to stop and scribble a message to dad when the yaquis had her and her brother. clear grit i call that!" "sure thing!" assented nort. "gee! i wish i'd been there!" sighed dick. "what! to be captured by the indians and made into sausage meat?" joked mr. merkel, for at times they poked a bit of fun at dick on account of his plumpness. though, truth to tell, he was now not too stout, and the life of the west had greatly hardened him. "they wouldn't have caught me without a fight!" he bruskly declared. "that's right! a fight!" cried bud. "what are we going to do about this, dad? we can't let our cousins be carried off this way; can we, fellows?" he demanded of his boy rancher companions. "i should say not!" was the instant response, duet fashion. "no, it wouldn't be right for us to sit back and do nothing," agreed mr. merkel. "there aren't any too many men available to help out the sheriff. we've got to do our share. get ready boys!" and he looked at his son and nephews, his glance also roving over his own aggregation of cowboys, most of whom were now gathered in front of the main ranch building of diamond x. "where are we going?" asked dick. "on the trail of the yaquis!" answered his uncle. "we can spare most of the bunch, now that the round-up is over. you don't need many out at your ranch, bud. call in all you can spare, and we'll hit the trail!" "whoo-pee!" shouted nort, whirling his horse about and setting it at a gallop down through the corrals. "this is news!" yelled his brother, following the lead of nort. "i only hope we aren't too late!" remarked bud, when his cousins came back to join him. "too late? what do you mean!" asked nort. "i mean to save rosemary--and floyd. those yaquis--they're regular devils when they get on the war path! oh, i hope we aren't too late!" it was a hope the others shared. rapid action replaced the comparative quiet that reigned during the reading of the telegram. cowboys rode to and fro, and bud and his cousins prepared to depart for diamond x second to arrange for taking the trail against the yaquis. as the boy ranchers rode off down the trail, promising to return as speedily as possible, to join with the bunch from diamond x, their eager talk over the recent events was interrupted by the noise of shouting. "what's that?" cried dick, looking in the direction of the noise. it appeared to come from a swale, or depression among some small, rounded knolls. "sounds like a cattle stampede," remarked bud, urging his pony forward. "and yet it can't be that." nort and dick followed as soon as they could swing their horses about. the sound of shouting and the thunder of the feet of many animals--horses or steers--came more plainly to the ears of the boy ranchers. chapter iv on the trail with bud in the advance, urging his pony to topmost speed, nort and dick followed. bud shot along the trail, up one rise, down another, all the while coming nearer to the noise which increased in intensity. clearly something was wrong either among a bunch of diamond x cattle, or with some of the horses belonging to the ranch outfit. and that some human individual was concerned in the "fracas" was evident by the shouts and yells that, now and then, punctured the air. "by the great horned toad! look at that!" cried bud, when he was within viewing distance. "he'll be killed!" added nort. "no, he's out of it now!" yelled dick. "but maybe it's the end of him!" as the three boy ranchers thus gave vent to their surprise, and almost while they were in the act of exclaiming, a ragged figure of a man had shot over a stout corral fence, and had fallen in a heap just on the other side and out of the reach of the teeth and hoofs of a number of half wild cow ponies. the thud of the animals' bodies, as they threw themselves against the fence, in the stoppage of their mad race to get the ragged man, could plainly be heard. "whew!" cried bud, reigning his pony to a sliding stop, as he saw that, for the present at least, the man was safe, though his inert form might indicate serious injury. "that was a close call!" "what was he doing in that corral?" asked nort, and his hand, almost by instinct, slid to the handle of his . protruding from the holster. "and who is he?" asked dick, who had followed his brother's lead. "that's what we've got to find out," said bud, who, perhaps from longer association with western conditions, had manifested no inclination to draw his gun. "guess he'll wait for us," he added, as he slid from the saddle, having ridden close to the prostrate form. but, even as bud spoke, and as dick and nort dismounted, the stranger rose to a sitting position, rubbed his hand across his forehead, tried to smile at the boys and then, in what would have been a jolly voice under other circumstances said: "i'm supposed to ask 'where am i?' i believe, but we'll pass that up, and i'll substitute 'what time is it?' just as a variation you know," and he actually chuckled. "not that it matters," he added, as he saw bud fishing out a sturdy silver watch--the only kind it is safe to carry on a cattle range. "doesn't matter in the least." "then why--" began nort. but the stranger stopped him with a friendly gesture. "don't ask me that!" he begged, smiling broadly, as he scrambled to his feet, thereby disclosing the fact that he was even more ragged as to garments than at first appeared when he was lying down. "don't ask me that. the question has been fired at me ever since i was old enough to decide whether i'd have butter on my bread or take it in the natural state. it was 'why did i do this'--'why didn't i do that' until, in very desperation i gave up trying to answer. i do now. i don't know why i ask the time. i really don't want to know. there are other questions more to the point. don't trouble to answer. and please don't ask me 'why' this, that--or anything. frankly i don't know, and i care less. i am here. where i'll be to-morrow no one knows, and no one cares. it is my philosophy--the philosophy of a rolling stone. i assure you, gentlemen--" this time it was bud who interrupted. there was a look on the face and in the eyes of the young ranchman that his cousins could well interpret. it meant that fooling, nonsense or an evasion of the issue was at an end. "look here, stranger," said bud, and, though his voice was stern it was not unfriendly. "maybe you are a tenderfoot, but you don't look it, and i reckon you've been around here long enough to assimilate the fact that when a stranger is found among other men's horses that stranger is due to make an explanation." "my boy, you are right!" laughed the ragged man. "absolutely and tetotally right! of course you recognize the fact that i am no longer '_among_' your horses. i _was_, but i am _not_. i came out, so to speak," and he indicated, by a tumbling motion of his hands, that he had leaped the fence to get away from the half wild ponies. "that's all right," spoke bud, his voice still stern. his cousins were leaving this matter entirely to him. "that's all right. but you _were_ among them, and it may be more to our good luck than our good management that you aren't astride one of them now, and riding off. what's your name and where are you from?" these were vital, western questions. "you are right in your surmise," said the man, limping toward the boys, and still smiling, which occupation he had not left off since arising to his feet. "if luck had been with me i would have ridden on one of your horses. not off--far be it from me to do that. but i would have ridden to the nearest ranch, tried to get work and so have paid for the use of the animal. "however, fate had other things in store for me. i never saw such wild animals! they came at me like so many fiends, and after trying in vain to quiet them, and i may say i have some skill with wild beasts, i thought discretion the better part of foolhardiness, and--made for the fence!" he chuckled at the recollection. "then you weren't going to steal a horse?" asked nort. "far from it, kind sir," and the man bowed with just the slightest suggestion of mockery, at which bud frowned. "i am a lone traveler, and i sought help on my way--help for which i would have paid in work." "who are you?" snapped out bud. "i have told you my name," said the stranger, in gentle contrast to bud's harsh tone. "rolling stone, at your service," and he bowed again, this time with no trace of mockery. "rolling stone!" ejaculated nort. "that isn't a name," complained bud, but his voice had lost some of its stern quality, and his lips trembled on the verge of a smile. "i realize that it is more a state of being, or a quality," the man admitted. "but it happens to be a sort of paraphrase of my title. i am roland stone, at your service, but my taste, inclination and the action of disheartened friends has fastened the other appellation on me. rolling stone i am by name and by nature." he said it in a way that left little room for doubt, and the boy ranchers seemed to realize this. they could understand how such a character could easily change roland into "rolling," if such was his nature. and "stone" was a common enough name. "all right, mr. rolling stone," said bud. "if that's your choice it still leaves the other question unanswered. where are you from?" "everywhere and anywhere, which is to say nowhere," came the reply. "you need only to look at me to tell what i am--a happy-go-lucky individual, a tramp, a hobo, and yet i am willing to work when the spirit is on me. i never stole a dollar or a dollar's worth in all my life. i have harmed neither man, woman or child. i am my own worst enemy, and i am--frankly--hungry! if you will give me food i'll pay for it in work to the best of my ability--" "you said you had some skill with wild animals," interrupted bud. "do you mean--" "i don't mean _horses_, if you will excuse the interruption," the man said. "there is my one failing. i used to be with a circus, and the lion and i were good friends. perhaps some taint of the wild beast odor clings to me, which causes horses to rear up and tear. or else--" "that didn't cause these ponies to act that way," laughed bud, who, with his cousins, was rapidly forming a liking for the stranger. "they're half wild themselves. just in off the range, and they haven't been broken yet. i doubt if yellin' kid would tackle one. it isn't anything to your discredit that you got out in a hurry. but you say you're hungry?" that was an appeal which never went unheeded in the west. "mightily hungry, fair sir!" and, though rolling stone smiled, there was an appealing note in his voice. "the last meal i had for nothing was given me by hank fowler." "hank fowler!" cried bud. "the sheriff?" added nort. "who sent on to mr. merkel the message from rosemary?" completed dick. "rosemary--that's for remembrance," quoted rolling stone with a smile. "i know her not, and yet hank fowler is a sheriff to my certain knowledge." "do you mean the one from la nogalique?" persisted bud. "that same. i appealed to him when i was down on my luck, as i nearly always am, and he befriended me. i have known him for years." "then there can't be much wrong with you," decided bud. "if you want work, my father can fix you up. we'll need some extra hands if we pull out a lot to take the trail after the yaquis. so--" "excuse me, young man. but did you say--_yaquis_?" asked rolling stone, and there was a new and eager note in his voice. "yes," supplemented nort. "the yaquis--indians you know--have gone wild again and they've raided a town and carried off some of our friends. we're going to--" "you can't tell me anything about the yaquis that i don't know, young man!" exclaimed rolling stone, and he seemed imbued with new life. "i know they're indians, of a sort, though a very rotten sort. they killed my best friend years ago. i haven't heard anything about a raid lately. been too lazy to look for news, i reckon. but if it's true that they're on the rampage, and you're on the trail after them let me, i beg of you, have a hand in it. i asked for _work_ just now. change that to a _fight_ and i'm with you at the fall of the hat and until i drop! let me come! let me help pay back the debt i have against these infernal yaquis. will you?" he asked eagerly. bud looked at his cousins. here was a new element. and with all his light manner, and ragged clothes, there was something very satisfying about rolling stone, as he asked to be called. "we'll need all the help we can get," said bud, slowly. "if hank fowler says you're all right, that goes with us. sure it isn't hank _fisher_ who vouches for you?" he asked sharply. "hank _fisher_--i don't know the man," was the answer. "you're better off not to," spoke bud grimly, for fisher was a ranchman of unsavory reputation, who was believed to have figured in more than one affair with the half breed del pinzo, to the discomfort of diamond x. "hank fowler, the sheriff, will tell you i'm straight," said rolling stone. "i don't say i haven't faults," he went on. "but when i say i'm my own worst enemy i've spilled an earful," and he laughed genially. "we'll let it go at that," bud answered. "if mr. fowler says you're on the level that's sufficient. and you can come with us." "thanks," was the laconic reply. "will one of your ponies carry double?" and he looked over his shoulder at the corral. "we won't ask you to ride one of those mustangs," laughed bud. "and it's too much to double up. i'll go back and get one of dad's ponies. it isn't far. you stay here," he added to his cousins and rolling stone. "i'll be back soon." riding rapidly, bud was quickly back at diamond x. he told the story of the meeting with rolling stone. at first mr. merkel was a bit suspicious, but it happened that one of the cowboys had heard of rolling stone, and knew him to be what he laid claim to. "i reckon he's all right," assented the ranchman. "take him with you, bud. you'll need help, and if he knows anything about the yaquis he'll be of value." "all right," remarked bud. "he's on. what horse can i take for him?" one was selected. together the boy ranchers and rolling stone rode out to happy valley, for certain matters must be adjusted there before the start could be made after the indians who had carried off rosemary and floyd. work went on at top speed, and a day later our young heroes, with rolling stone, better dressed, but the same unconventional spirit, started forth. "on the trail!" grimly remarked bud as they started to join forces with those from diamond x. "on the trail!" echoed nort and dick. "and we can't meet with those yaquis any too soon for me!" added rolling stone. "you seem to have it in for them rather hard," observed dick. "it can't be any too hard," answered the man with a grim tightening of the muscles around his mouth. "when i think of all they did--" he paused and gazed at the distant horizon. that there was a story connected with his hate of the yaquis none of the boys doubted, and they were eager to hear it. but this was not the time and place. too much remained to be done, and there was too little time in which to do it. "i wonder when we'll meet up with the imps?" spoke nort, as they ambled easily along. "no telling," said bud. "we've got things in shape back there so that we can remain away all summer if need be," and he glanced back toward their ranch which they had just left. "but i'd like to clean up this bunch of 'onery' yaquis, and then get back on the job. cattle raising is our business." "but just now we're following a side line of rescuing rosemary and floyd," observed nort. "and i think we can do it!" well it was that fate veiled the future. chapter v rosemary and floyd "floyd, i don't like this a bit!" "what's the matter, rosemary?" the young man driving the sturdy little sport model of a car brought the machine to a stop and glanced at the girl sitting beside him. there was a quizzical smile on his face, a good-natured smile, however. "what don't you like, rosemary?" he asked again, and there was not in his tone any air of bored fault-finding such as seems to come natural to some brothers in appealing from a decision of some sisters. "i don't like the way this trail is shaping up, if you'll excuse my english," answered rosemary boyd. "your english is perfectly excusable, rosemary," retorted floyd. "in fact i rather like it. it is much better than this _trail_, to be frank." "are you sure we have come the right road?" "as sure as i can be of anything in this doggoned country, where they haven't enough sign posts. i took the turns they told me to take in the last town we passed through, and all the land marks have run true to form so far." "but we're a good ways from uncle henry's ranch yet; aren't we, floyd?" and there crept into the voice of rosemary an anxious note. "well, maybe we are, but what do we care for a few hundred miles?" he laughed merrily, showing a set of white, even teeth, and his jollity was so catching that his sister had to join in. "well, i suppose it really doesn't make much difference," she said. "we're out for a lark and we've had it, so far. only i don't seem to fancy sleeping out in the open again to-night. we were lost yesterday, you remember, and didn't make the town we expected to." floyd seemed to be waiting for something. "well?" he suggested. "why don't you add that it was all my fault." "i was going to leave that out," rosemary said. "but i'll admit it," acknowledged her brother. "i did pull a bloomer, as an englishman would say, and i don't intend to do it again to-day. i admit i shouldn't have tried to do more than a day's trip yesterday. if i had taken your advice and stayed in the town where there was at least an apology for a hotel, you'd have had a better night's sleep." "well, i didn't mind being out in the open so much, after i got used to the howling of those wolves," rosemary remarked. "coyotes--coyotes--not wolves, though they're off the same piece of goods," corrected floyd. "well, never mind the lesson in natural history," laughed rosemary. "the point at issue is that i don't like the sort of country we're getting into. it doesn't look to me as though this could ever lead us to uncle henry's ranch, and i'm anxious to get there. bud's mother wrote that he and his cousins, nort and dick, had such exciting times, that i'm anxious to join them." "so'm i," said floyd. "and we'll get there." "not on this trail!" declared his sister, as her brother was about to start the car. "you're getting into a worse and wilder country all the while. i think we should have taken the left turn a ways back." "the cow puncher we asked told us to take the _right_ turn, and i did," retorted floyd. "cow puncher!" exclaimed his sister scornfully, "he looked more like a renegade mexican than a real american cowboy. and his accent was spanish, too." "oh, well, lots of good american cowboys came from mexican or spanish people, and speak both languages," asserted floyd. "don't hold that against him." "i don't," said rosemary. "but i will hold it against him if he has put us on the wrong trail, and i'm beginning to believe that's what he did. and maybe purposely, floyd." "purposely? what do you mean?" "well, you know what we were told when we started out to make this trip--that we had better take the most civilized and best traveled trails, as the yaquis were reported to be on the verge of making an outbreak." "yes, and for that reason i kept well away from the border. but we aren't anywhere near the yaquis country now." "aren't we?" asked rosemary, with a strange quietness in her voice. "no, of course not!" snapped floyd. it was the first time, since brother and sister had started from california, to make a somewhat adventurous trip to their uncle's ranch that they had been near a "break" in their cordial relations. "the yaquis are five hundred miles from here." "i hope so, i surely do hope so!" murmured rosemary, in such fervent tones that her brother felt an uneasy sense of fear creeping into his heart. for the first time he began to realize that perhaps they had done a foolhardy thing in making this trip alone. he slipped his hand into his pocket, making sure that his gun was in readiness. and it did not relieve his anxiety to note that rosemary did the same. brother and sister were of the west. they were brave and bold and not afraid of danger when they had half a chance to meet it face to face. but they had heard much of the treacherous and mean nature of the yaquis indians. these were not like the early american tribes of redmen, who had something of a code of honor in their warfare, cruel and heartless as it seemed at times. "well, do you want to go back?" asked floyd, as he slowly started the car. rosemary considered for a moment. "let's look at the map and go over what we were told along the route," she suggested. then followed a careful scanning of papers and drawings, with the result that rosemary said: "i guess we may as well go on. it's a long way back to the nearest town, and this map does seem to indicate that we are heading for la nogalique." "that's what i say!" chimed in floyd. "i only hope la nogalique is better than it sounds. if we can put up there for the night you'll get a little rest, and maybe i'll have this carburetor adjusted. i don't like the way it's acting." "oh, good, sweet, kind carburetor, don't go back on us now!" implored rosemary, kissing her hand toward the engine of the car. "be nice and i'll sprinkle you with violet talcum powder when we get to uncle henry's!" "don't be silly!" grunted floyd. "let's go!" called his sister. "it's getting late, and according to this map it's ten miles yet to la nogalique--which means twenty if we are going by past performances." the car sped forward, the trail seeming to grow worse instead of better, as might be expected if they were approaching a town. lurching from side to side, making sharp turns to avoid bowlders and holes, floyd guided the machine. now and then rosemary would glance at her brother, after a particularly vicious jolt, but she said nothing. "a good sport!" floyd mentally voted his sister. they topped a steep rise, and as they started down the other slope, making a turn, rosemary pointed ahead and exclaimed: "there! now we're all right! la nogalique!" nestling in a small valley was a smaller town, its few buildings showing plainly in the last rays of the sun which would soon set behind the mountains and hills. "guess we're not so badly off after all!" exulted floyd. "we'll sleep in real beds tonight!" "and i take back what i--er--_thought_ about you!" laughed his sister. "thanks for not _saying_ it!" chuckled floyd. "i admit i was guessing myself a while back, for that trail looked as though it was heading straight for no place in particular. but we're all right now." however, as they descended the slope, approaching the town, it became a question in both the mind of sister and brother as to whether they were all right. when they came near enough to see and hear plainly it became evident that something unusual was going on in la nogalique, if such was the village in view. there was the popping of guns and intermittant shouts, while figures could be seen riding wildly to and fro amid the scattered buildings. "guess there's some sort of a celebration," commented floyd. "probably some mexicans have come over the border, and are celebrating a feast day," observed his sister. "this must be about the border line between the united states and mexico." "i reckon," conceded floyd. "but say, i don't just like this! look, those men are shooting at each other!" he stopped the car and pointed to two groups of horsemen who, undoubtedly, were firing at each other with evil intent. for as rosemary and floyd looked, several men toppled from their saddles, and their steeds rushed wildly to and fro. then, as the travelers sat in the machine, looking down the last slope that led to the town, a solitary horseman came clattering up the rocky trail. "turn back! turn back!" he shouted. "don't go down there!" he was attired as a cowboy and spoke good united states. "what's the matter?" demanded floyd, as he let the car roll to one side to give the horseman room to pass. "yaquis!" was the answer. "them onery mexican indians have broke loose and are raiding the country. they've started in here at la nogalique! i'm riding for the troops. better turn back!" "oh, floyd!" cried rosemary, involuntarily. "don't go down there!" warned the horseman, as he spurred on, for he saw the car slipping down the slope. "i don't intend to, if i can turn around and beat it up the hill," floyd said. "the question is--can i?" it was a question. the road was narrow, and the hill steep. if you have ever tried to turn a car around on a narrow, hilly road and crawl back up it, you will appreciate the position of rosemary and her brother. "if you can't make it in your car get out and hide!" advised the horseman, flinging this back over his shoulder as he rode on. "those yaquis are human devils!" he was out of sight a moment later around a turn in the trail. floyd speeded up the engine and began to guide the machine toward a place that looked wide enough to turn in. but that was the smallest part of the problem. just as he was making the turn there was a lurch to one side, and the right forward wheel sank into a ditch at the side of the road. the car settled so far over that rosemary had to cling to floyd to avoid sliding out, and she could not repress a scream. "no going back now!" exclaimed floyd grimly. "we're lucky if we can go ahead." "do something!" desperately cried rosemary. and then, with a suddenness that was nerve-racking, there swept around the bend in the road toward them a band of yelling mexican indians--the yaquis! chapter vi prisoners rosemary and floyd knew something of the west. they had lived in california a number of years, and had traveled across the continent more than once--by auto on one occasion. so they were not at all disappointed when they saw the yaquis did not measure up to the picturesque standard of buffalo bill's indians. in fact the first glimpse of the onrushing band of yaquis would give one the impression that they were a lot of colored cowboys, in most ragged garments. but each one carried a gun or a revolver and the weapons were for use, and had been used, some with fatal effect. shouting and yelling, some firing their guns off in the air, beating coiled lassos against the heaving sides of their steeds, spurring the frantic animals, shouting in spanish, all of them dusty, sweaty and dirty--the band was at once ridiculous and fearsome. up the trail they rushed, adding to their fierce yells as they caught sight of the auto in which sat rosemary and floyd. probably the band of yaquis had started off after the cowboy messenger who was riding to summon the united states troopers, and the finding of rosemary and floyd was but an accident. but it was an accident likely to bode ill for our friends. the indians (i call them that though they were really mexicans) having sighted what was to them fair game, were turned from their original purpose of capturing the messenger. rosemary and floyd caught a jumbled jargon of spanish shouts, mingled with mexican and american words, and then out of the ruck of riders a solitary horseman spurred toward them. "he's the leader, i guess!" exclaimed floyd, and rosemary caught the gleam of his revolver in her brother's hand. "floyd! don't!" she cried. "don't what?" "don't shoot? oh, we haven't a chance! if we do kill--or wound a few--it will only make it worse for us. don't shoot!" rosemary spoke only just in time, for floyd was already raising the weapon to aim at the leader who had spurred out of the ruck of other yelling yaquis. and, as if this leader sensed what was about to happen, and had decided to administer a lesson, there was a sharp crack from his side. he had not raised his hand higher than his saddle pommel, but floyd's hat spun from his head and went sailing to the ground. at the same time he heard a vicious "zing" which told of a bullet in flight. "floyd!" screamed rosemary. "i'm all right! he's bluffing!" her brother answered. but he did not shoot back. this yaqui, better dressed and mounted, but more evil in face than any of his band, smiled grimly as he jammed his gun back into the holster. and floyd had the sense to return his weapon. as rosemary had said, there was grave danger in firing, for at best only a few of the yaquis could have been disposed of, and the others would have taken a terrible revenge. right up to the stalled car--stalled because it had lurched to one side in the ditch--rode the yelling yaquis. some of them got in the path of the evident leader, but he bumped them to one side with his horse--a more powerful animal than any ridden by his followers--shouting at them in vigorous spanish as he knocked them out of his way. "la paz! la paz!" is what rosemary and floyd heard shouted at the leader, and this they took to be his name, or, at least, his title. from then on they referred to him as "paz," which was as good an appellation as any. up to the auto he rode, at breakneck speed, pulling his horse to a sliding stop, so that the animal almost sat down on its hind legs in an effort to avoid crashing into the car. to the credit of rosemary be it said that she did not scream, nor did floyd flinch, though it seemed, for a moment, that there would be a crash. then the yaqui leader, with a grunt, and a wave of his begrimed hand--in which grime rosemary noticed with a shudder, blood was mingled--indicated that the travelers were to alight. "nothing doing, chief! that is if you are a chief!" boldly answered floyd. "we're united states citizens, on united states soil, and we don't have to do what you tell us. pull your freight--get your men out of the way and we'll mosey along. that is we will if i can get the car out of the ditch!" the yaqui grinned, but did not take his eyes from rosemary or floyd, and muttered: "no _sabe_!" "oh, you _understand_ all right--you don't want to, that's the trouble," exclaimed floyd. "come now, be a sport. i don't know what your fight is with the men down there," and he motioned to the town below, where sounds of fighting could still be heard, "but we haven't done anything. if some of your men will help me get out of this ditch i'll pay 'em." evidently "pay" was one word not only paz, but some of his followers, understood, for there were grunts and eyes gleamed more brightly while some of the indians started forward. paz shot out a few words at his men, and those who had had the boldness, to move forward pulled back their ponies. evidently he had them well in hand. rapidly he uttered something in spanish, at the same time again waving his hand to indicate to floyd and rosemary that they were to get out of the machine. brother and sister knew enough of the language to understand what was said. it was the same request made in gestures. "shall i jump on him, rose?" asked floyd in a low voice. "i can just about make it from here, and i haven't forgotten my football tackle days. shall i jump on him? then maybe you can pop one or two, and we can start down in the car. once we get into town the officials are bound to protect us." "don't, floyd!" his sister advised in the same low tone. "we have no chance but to submit, and wait for help. i've heard of these yaquis. there aren't enough men in la nogalique to cope with them except troopers come. and they're far enough off." "just give in, and hope for the best. but don't let them separate us--whatever--whatever you have to do." there was a catch in the girl's voice, but this was the only evidence of fear she had shown. she was a true "sport." "but what do you suppose their game is?" asked floyd, and during this talk between brother and sister, the yaqui leader, stood regarding them quizzically. "i don't know," rosemary answered. "this is just one of their periodical raids, i guess, and they have just added us to their list. but we'll have to do as they tell us--at least for the time being. help me down, floyd." he assisted her out of the car. paz, smiling--or perhaps grinning would be the better word--came toward them, and motioned with his hand toward the gun floyd had put up. "you don't get it,--paz unless you want the business end!" snapped out floyd, and his hand edged toward the weapon with no mistake in his meaning. in an instant he was "covered" by the gun in the hand of the indian, and rosemary changed the scream she had started to utter to the advice: "give it up, floyd! they haven't seen mine and don't know i have one. maybe i can get by with it!" floyd almost sighed as he passed over his weapon, butt first, in the accepted style of surrendering. paz grinned again, and motioned to his men to come up. one of them began loosening a lariat at his saddle horn. "they're going to make prisoners of us," said floyd. "never mind! there'll be some way out," whispered rosemary. chapter vii into the mountains disreputable ragamuffins as they appeared, the yaquis were quick enough to put their captives in a position to render them almost helpless. though the mexican indians do not seem to have the picturesqueness and skill of the outdoors possessed by the north american indians, still they knew how to knot their lariats about rosemary and floyd, and so tie them on spare horses that it would have been no easy task to escape. aside from rude hands bundling her about, no insult was offered rosemary; and though floyd was not treated so gently he was not actually mistreated. rosemary was not searched, and her automatic remained in a hidden pocket, where, if need be, she could quickly reach it. floyd's gun was taken away, and all the money he carried loose in his pockets. but he had been wise enough when starting out on this trip, to make a secret pocket in his vest, and this now held a goodly sum which the indians overlooked. of course a more careful search would reveal it, as it would rosemary's gun. paz, speaking in spanish, detailed several men to guard the prisoners and then, taking his place at the head of his band, he led them back down the trail. "say, what does this mean?" asked floyd of his sister. "he's going right back down among men that ought to be our friends. if there are any town officials there, or a soldier or two, they ought to save us." "i'm afraid there isn't, though," the girl answered. "if there had been the lone cowboy wouldn't have ridden for help. and the fighting is still going on." the sound of shooting was resumed as she spoke, and shouts and yells came to floyd's ears. he began to understand what had happened, his surmise being borne out, later, by the facts. la nogalique is a town in arizona, just on the mexican border. in fact so close is it that in places only a barbed wire fence separates the possessions of uncle sam from those of the mexican republic. and outside of town even the wire fence "petered out," so there was nothing--no natural boundary--to tell where citizens were under the protection of the stars and stripes or under the domain of the descendants of montezuma. what had happened, just as rosemary and floyd suspected, was that the yaquis--never very peaceable--had risen in one of their periodic raids. they frequently hold up the southern pacific trains, kill and rob the passengers and take what express matter they like. this band, probably weary of making war on the none too resisting mexican soldiery, had crossed the border, and "shot up" la nogalique. when it was learned that one of the cowboys of the town had ridden to bring some united states troops from a nearby station, paz, one of the leaders, had set out with his followers to capture the rider. they had come upon rosemary and her brother with the result detailed. "but why are they riding back into town with us?" floyd wanted to know. "mexico is south of la nogalique," answered rosemary. "they have to ride through it to get back to mexico, and they--they're taking us with them!" there was a gasp in her voice. "we've got to do something!" desperately cried floyd. he strained at his bonds, but uselessly. paz turned and shouted something in anger, but floyd gave him back fully as black a look as the one on the yaqui leader's face. at least floyd was going to maintain a bold front. down the slope and into the small town rode the indians with their captives. now the sound of shooting and shouting became louder. it was evident that some of the americans were making a stand against the indians. the americans were firing from houses and other shelter, the indians riding here and there, aiming whenever they saw anyone at whom to shoot. several evidently dead bodies were in the streets, the proportion being about equal between the americans and the indians. rosemary could not repress a shudder as she saw, in one doorway, a dead woman and a little girl. how the fight started, whether it could have been avoided, and what the town officials had done or were doing, were only matters for surmise. "there was a fight but i guess the indians were too many for our fellows," grimly said floyd, as his horse was led along. he had managed to keep close to rosemary. "it looks that way," the girl said. "oh, floyd! if we could only get word to our folks or uncle henry!" "i don't see how we can," said floyd. "when night comes maybe we can break away, but--" he did not finish. it was a desperate hope as he and rosemary well knew. suddenly, when the centre of the town was reached by the band having taken our friends captive, there was a burst of fire, mingled with shouts of defiance. out of one of the buildings burst a band of american cowboys and others. they had gathered together to make a stand, and this was their chance. several of the indians fell from their saddles, and others, though wounded, managed to retain their seats. bullets flew about rosemary and floyd, fortunately not hitting them, but coming too close for comfort. paz and his followers were evidently taken by surprise, and for a moment did not return the fire. then, as it increased the indians turned and began fleeing up the trail they had just descended, taking rosemary and floyd with them. evidently they not only thought there might be danger in making a stand against the intrepid americans, but perhaps they reasoned that they had captives too valuable to risk losing in another pitched fight. at any rate paz gave the orders to retreat, and his men obeyed. rosemary and floyd saw what was happening. helpless, they were carried away into the mountains. true it was united states territory, but for all the good that did the captives, it might as well have been mexico. there were no troops or other help at hand. paz rode on ahead, and directly behind him came his more trusted followers surrounding rosemary and floyd. suddenly paz and his lieutenants (if such they might be called) in the lead, were thrown back in confusion as shots rang out, and floyd and his sister had a glimpse of some cowboys riding down the trail, as if to give battle. "hurray! now we're all right. this is a rescue! the troopers are coming!" shouted floyd. but though the valiant cowboys made a brave stand they were too few to cope with the indians. it developed, later, that they were a stray band who had been told of the trouble by the lone cowboy who was riding after the troops. the band of punchers, resolving to do their best, had spurred to the fight, but were overwhelmed. two were killed and another wounded. and this youth--he was but that in years--managed to break through the first line of indians like a football player with the ball smashing the interference of the opposing team. right to the side of rosemary and floyd he galloped, and then the girl had a flash of inspiration. quickly she managed to take from her pocket a notebook, and, one of the ropes coming loose from her hand, she was able to scribble on a torn out page this message: "get word to my uncle, henry merkel, diamond x ranch, that floyd and i are taken. ask him to send help." she rolled this into a ball, and as the cowboy lurched past her she thrust it into his hand. "ride! ride away!" rosemary fairly shouted in his ear, for there was so much noise of shooting and yelling that she had to cry loudly to make herself understood. "i'm going to stay and fight!" cried the youth recklessly. "you can't! they're too many! ride and bring help! deliver my message!" pleaded rosemary. "it's the best way to help us!" then, as paz, wild and furious, rode up with pistol aimed at the cowboy, the latter fired his last shot, full in the face of the indian leader, wheeled his horse, and managed to dash away. how paz escaped no one knew, but the shot only grazed him, and with mutterings he threw aside his own empty weapon, and spurred after the bold cowboy. but the horse of paz slipped, while the steed of the american, being more sure footed, carried him out of danger. he vanished around a turn in the trail, and paz swung back to his own men, several of whom had been wounded, and one killed by the bold, dashing american cowboys. then, when this little "fracas" was over, rosemary and floyd were again led forward, into the mountain fastness, prisoners of the yaquis. while, miles away, the boy ranchers were totally unaware of the tragic happenings. "what did you do, rose?" asked floyd, in a low voice, as the trail was resumed. "i scribbled a note and sent it by that cowboy. he'll bring help if he can." "well, i hope he can. if they don't get him, or he doesn't lose your note." but the message was delivered and was the means of spurring into action those at diamond x ranch. chapter viii shooting stars contrary to what was usual when a band of cowboys, including bud, nort, and dick, started off on the trail, there was very little singing, laughing and joking as they gave their ponies rein to begin pursuit after the kidnapping yaquis. even the lightest-spirited cowpuncher felt the gravity of the situation, though, save for the three boy ranchers, none had ever seen rosemary and floyd. and it was so long ago that bud, nort and dick had met these western cousins that they scarcely remembered them. "but we'd hit the trail for the rescue whether they were our cousins or not!" declared bud merkel, as he kicked his heels against the flanks of his pony, and sent that steady-going animal forward with a rush. "whoa there, son, whoa there!" advised snake purdee who was in leadership of the party. "that's right," chimed in yellin' kid, with his usual strident tones. "take it easy, bud, we've got a long, hard trail ahead of us, and we haven't any spare horses." "i didn't intend to start a race," spoke bud, as he slowed up and waited for nort and dick. "i was just wishing i could kick some of those greasy mexican indians, and it must have been a sort of reflex action on my part that gave toot a tap in the ribs," and he patted his pony, no very handsome steed, but a sticker on a long trail. bud had taught his pony to run out of the corral at the blowing of a horn, hence the name "toot." "i don't know anything about them there reflex actions," observed yellin' kid, "but i do know that this is no fishin' party! we've got hard work cut out for us if we're to trail them sneakin' yaquis." "you delivered an earful that time, my friend," stated rolling stone, with a grim smile. "i've had dealings with these imps and while they don't compare in bloodthirstiness with the worst of our former american indians, they're bad enough. i know!" he seemed to gaze afar, into the past, and the boy ranchers hoped he would some day tell the details of how he had come so to hate the yaquis. the trailing party, started into action by the receipt of the message so daringly written by rosemary, consisted of fifteen cowboys, and in these i include our three heroes, who certainly are entitled to be classed with the others. for though not as old, they had had considerable experience now, and were able to rough it with the most veteran cow puncher. in addition to bud, nort and dick, there was snake purdee, who was in virtual charge, according to instructions from bud's father. yellin' kid, rolling stone and several other cowboys made up the remainder of the party, which was well armed, and provisioned as fully as was practical. they expected to replenish their packs of food at various places, and if they passed beyond the pale of civilization they would live off the land, or do their best in this respect. "it can't be any worse for us than for those indians," snake purdee had said, when the talk was on the food question. "yes, but a white man can't live on what those heathen eat," remarked rolling stone. "they'll eat lizards and snakes, and think they're stopping at one of the best hotels, with bath an' everything. or they can go without eating longer than any human beings i ever saw. in fact i don't believe they are human. they're imps, that's what they are--plain imps! if i had my way i'd--" rolling stone gave a sudden jump, and a grunt, the reason for this action being that snake purdee had urged his steed to a place next to that of the speaker and had given him a jolting punch in the ribs. "wha-wha--" stuttered rolling stone. in answer snake pointed toward bud and his cousins, on whose faces were looks of grave alarm as the new acquisition to their forces spoke thus of the fierce character of the yaquis. "don't get 'em to worrying too much about that there young lady an' gent what these indians have carried off," whispered snake, and it was well it was he who spoke, and not yellin' kid, or our heroes would have sensed what was up. "keep it dark," advised snake. "keep it dark! don't take the heart out of 'em!" "oh!" exclaimed rolling stone. "i see!" "pity you wouldn't," snapped out the cowboy leader. "you got to have a little consideration for the young fellers!" rolling stone nodded, and then, as if to make amends for what he had said, he added: "course i'm not saying _all_ yaquis are alike. there may be some half way, or maybe a quarter way decent. and maybe they've captured this young lady and gentleman just for ransom. in that case they'll take good care of 'em." "do you think so?" asked bud, for, truth to tell, he had been greatly alarmed as he thought of the possible fate of rosemary and her brother in the hands of the unprincipled yaquis. "oh, sure!" asserted rolling stone, with more conviction than he felt. "they're after money, these indians are, or what money will buy. and they like good u.s. money instead of mex. dollars which are worth about fourteen and a half cents a pound just now. so it's to their interests to treat their captives well, so they'll bring a good price in the market." "good price?" exclaimed nort. "do they put them up at auction?" "no, i didn't mean just that," rolling stone hastened to add. "i mean if they ask a ransom they're bound to keep the prisoners in good shape for if they don't produce 'em in that same fashion they're likely to slip up on the reward." "then they won't harm rosemary or floyd?" asked dick, whose vivid imagination had pictured his cousins as being subject to the tortures of the burning stake. "well, of course they won't have feather beds to sleep on," spoke rolling stone slowly, "but i take it your cousins are used to roughing it, and it will be no worse than a scouting trip for them." "yes, i s'pose floyd is used to camping out," admitted bud. "but as for rosemary--" "don't worry, son," advised snake. "rosemary is a western girl and you know what your sister is." "that's right!" and bud visibly brightened. "nell could look after herself if given half a chance. and maybe we'll catch up to these yaquis before very long." "sure we will!" asserted snake, but he and the other cowboys, more experienced in matters of this sort than our heroes, felt that there was a grim terror between them and those whom they pursued. however they had started, and were making as good time as possible. messages had passed between mr. merkel and those in authority at la nogalique, and the probable route of the kidnapping yaquis was indicated as well as could be. this saved a long trip to the border in order to get on the trail of the indians from the time they had taken rosemary and floyd. well armed, with righteous indignation burning in their hearts, used to roughing it, and with men who knew almost every foot of the country, the expedition from diamond x was well equipped for the work in hand. at first after they started out there was eager talk, and speculation as to where the indians would be met with, and what the probable outcome would be of the fight that was sure to follow. "unless they run off when they see us and leave rosemary and floyd for us to bring back," spoke dick, almost afraid lest this outcome should prevent a fight. "don't worry. they won't run! they'll stand and give us as good or as bad as we can send," declared rolling stone. "we'll wipe out the band if we get half a chance!" declared bud, and it was not said in a bloodthirsty or boastful spirit. it was calm retribution that actuated our friends. along the trail they traveled--a trail they were destined to follow for weary days and nights. this was only the beginning. they must make all the speed they could, and yet spare the horses all that was possible. there was a chance of getting new mounts at several places, but it was only a chance and could not be depended on. they must save what they had, both in the way of horseflesh and rations. night found them well on their way, and though the boys were eager to continue, snake insisted on a halt being made not only for supper but to give men and horses a needed rest. "the indians will have to stop just as we do," said the older cowboy. "they can't keep on continually; they have to stop and rest." "yes, i suppose so," granted bud. so the night camp was made, and when the horses had been turned out to graze, hobbled so they would not stray, and when the evening meal was over, the party sat about the fires, talking of but one topic--what would happen when they came up with the yaquis. as they were in friendly country, not after cattle rustlers and had no fear of del pinzo and his gang, there was felt to be no need of standing guard. but for all this bud, nort and dick were a bit restless, and did not sleep as soundly as the others. in fact along toward morning, though while it was yet very dark, nort, thinking he heard suspicious noises, unrolled from his blanket and stood up. "what's the matter?" came in a hoarse whisper from his brother. "i don't know," answered nort, in the same hoarse tones. "i thought i heard something." "so did i," and dick scrambled out to stand beside his brother. "are the horses all right?" "i hope so. we're lost without them. let's take a look and--" nort stopped suddenly and pointed to the northern sky. above the horizon shone some red sparkles of light skimming and shimmering through the dark night. "shooting stars!" remarked dick, in a whisper. "shooting nothing!" cried nort, and his voice was loud. "those are signals from the yaquis! snake! wake up! we're right close to the indians!" he yelled. chapter ix a lone indian less noise than that which issued from the excited throat of nort would have been sufficient to arouse a larger camp than that of the cowboys on the trail of the yaquis. instantly every man in the party, not forgetting bud who had been sleeping as soundly as any, was on the alert, gun in hand, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the other fist. "what's up?" snarled snake. he always did hate to rouse suddenly. "look!" cried nort, pointing to the north, where, now and then, a shimmering light cut the blackness of the sky. "dick says they're shooting stars, but i say indian signals." "they aren't shooting stars, that's sure!" declared rolling stone. "i've slept in the open too often, counting those same shooting stars, to be mistaken. they're signals of some kind!" "but not indians' signals," asserted yellin' kid. "whose then?" nort wanted to know, satisfied that he had not awakened the camp in vain. "they're rockets--or some sort of fire works," went on dick. "first i thought they were shooting stars, but i can see now that they aren't. they're sky rockets or roman candles." "that's right," agreed snake. "and no yaquis will fool with such infernal machines as them." "unless your cousins had some," suggested yellin' kid looking toward bud and his chums. some one had thrown an armful of greasewood on the fire, and it blazed up brightly, disclosing the countenances of the indian trailers. "what would rosemary and floyd be doing with fireworks?" asked bud. "i didn't know but what they might be bringing some to diamond x for a celebration, and the indians, having laid hands on the rockets as well as on your cousins, might be setting 'em off--setting off the rockets i mean--for a celebration over their victory," observed yellin' kid, somewhat out of breath after this long oration. "nonsense!" asserted snake. "the indians wouldn't set off the rockets on purpose. they'd be afraid. though of course they may have done so by accident." "i don't believe rosemary or floyd would be bringing us fireworks," remarked bud. "they're too old for such kid stuff." "that's what i thought," said snake. "but who is shooting off the rockets?" asked nort, as another brilliant burst of fire, not unlike shooting stars, illuminated the dark northern sky. "troopers," said the old cowboy. "troopers?" question dick. "yes. united states cavalry. there are several companies stationed out here, and they may be on a practice march, or having a sham battle, as they sometimes do. these are signals from one post to another." "or maybe a signal about the indians," suggested bud. "yes," agreed snake. "it may be the troopers are after the yaquis. i sure hope so, for the imps are going to be hard enough to nab once they get up in the foothills and mountains. we'll need the help of the troopers for sure!" "isn't there some way we could let them know we're coming?" asked dick. "not very handy," the cowboy leader answered. "we haven't any fireworks, and shooting off our guns would only waste good bullets that we may need later. besides, those shooting stars are farther off than they look. we couldn't make our guns heard, and the flashes would be so low down they couldn't be seen. all we can do is to wait until morning. we're traveling in that direction anyhow, and we may come up with the regulars." "with their help we'll make short work of the yaquis!" boasted nort. "don't be so sure of that," warned rolling stone. "the indians, while nothing like the american redmen, are cute and foxy enough in their own way. they probably know of nooks and hiding places in the mountains where they could lay up for weeks, and almost next door to a troop of soldiers, without getting located. it's going to be largely a matter of luck if we nab 'em!" "well, here's hoping," voiced bud, as he turned toward the fire. it was chilly out in the open at that hour of the morning. for though the days are very hot, it began to get cool very often as soon as the sun went down, and the air kept getting cooler until the golden rays again warmed the earth. so one and all sought the genial blaze, to thaw out a little before again rolling in blankets to wait for sunrise. aside from the alarm over the shooting stars, nothing else disturbed the camp that night, and all were gladly astir with daybreak. the fire was started into new life, and soon coffee was boiling over the coals, while mingled with its odor was the appetizing smell of crisp bacon. "let me make the flapjacks," begged rolling stone. "i used to be a great hand for them, and i still have some small skill." he would need to have, for not a member of the party but what could turn a neatly browned cake high in the air, catching it unerringly as it came down, to be cooked on the other side. even nort and dick had become quite adept at this. but the skill of even snake purdee had to take a back seat in the face of the performance of rolling stone. not only were his cakes better in taste, and more delicately browned, but he showed almost uncanny skill in tossing them high in the air, and catching them in the pan as they came down. not once did a cake "slop over"--that is descend half within and half without the pan. each one fell true and in the middle of the skillet, there to be held over the coals again until crisp and brown. "you're a wonder--that's what you are!" affirmed yellin' kid in his usual hearty tones, as he passed his tin plate for more. "it's a gift--that's all! just a gift!" modestly admitted the self-constituted "flapjacketer," as he laughingly dubbed himself. smart was the word and smart was the action when breakfast was ended. the horses had made their meal during the night, and were ready for their riders who were soon in the saddle, riding toward the north--the north in which direction the yaquis had vanished with their captives--the north where the mysterious signal lights had been seen. through the day rode the posse of self-constituted seekers after the captives. they could not hope, for some time yet, to come upon actual traces of the yaquis. but they felt that they were heading in the proper direction. it was towards the close of the afternoon, when they were beginning to seek for a suitable camping place, with water, that nort, who had ridden on a little in advance, came to a halt at the top of a rise. his halt was caused by the appearance of a solitary horseman, coming toward him. and it needed but a second look, through that clear atmosphere, to disclose that the rider was not an american cowboy. "what's wrong, nort?" called bud, for he had sensed something unusual in his cousin's attitude. "an indian!" was the answer. "a lone indian!" the others rode hastily up the slope. the solitary horseman was coming rapidly on. he seemed to have no fear of thus riding into the midst of his enemies. "got his nerve with him, anyhow!" mused snake, as he looked to his gun. "maybe he's come to say the yaquis will surrender and give up rosemary and floyd," suggested dick. "maybe they know we're on their trail." chapter x shots from ambush the boy ranchers were very free with their surmises as to what might portend the oncoming of the lone indian. youth is ever thus, eager to guess instead of waiting for certainties. the older cowboys--yellin' kid, snake, rolling stone and those who made up the rescue party--remained in silent contemplation of the approaching figure. "he rides doggoned funny," observed snake. "like a bag of oats," added rolling stone. "looks like he'd fall off any minute." "say!" began bud eagerly, and then he stopped, as if he had thought better. "what's the matter?" asked nort. "don't you know somebody who rides just like that?" bud inquired. "some one we all know?" nort and dick uttered exclamations. bud's words were all that was needed to set in motion a slumbering train of thought. "looks to me like he was hurt," affirmed yellin' kid. "can't be one of the yaquis. they wouldn't be this near. and if they was they'd be too big cowards to ride right for us this way." "this isn't any unfriendly indian!" declared bud. "he knows us--and we know him!" "how come?" demanded snake, half incredulously. "can't you see?" cried bud. "it's our own indian--buck tooth!" "wow!" shouted yellin' kid. "so it is! but i'd never have known him. he's all togged out--got his war paint on!" and, in very truth, buck tooth--for he it was--had donned a strange garb. wearing some of the clothing of civilization, he had ornamented himself with dangling bits of cow-hide, with parts of tails dangling from it. he carried behind him a collection of pans and camp paraphanalia that rattled and banged about him as he rode forward. he had stuck some feathers in his coarse black hair and he was a somewhat laughable mixture of an american and mexican indian on the warpath. "ugh!" grunted buck tooth when he came within speaking distance. not that he ever spoke much, but this was his greeting. "what'd you come away from the ranch for?" demanded bud, for buck tooth was a valued hand on a cattle place, and he had been left with the somewhat small force to take charge of happy valley when the others had started after the yaquis. "what you doing here?" bud wanted to know. "me after 'em too--yaquis!" grunted the indian. "me catchum an' shootum same like um shoot me!" as he spoke, or, rather, grunted this out, he pointed to his left shoulder. it was bound about with bloody rags, and in spite of his stoicism the indian winced as he moved in the saddle. "did the yaquis shoot you?" cried nort. "sure! i come after you--no could stay when fight to be done--and yaquis what you call plug me! but i plug one, two, three 'fore i quit!" "where was this?" "was there a fight?" "lead us there!" "when did it happen?" these were only a few of the questions hurled at buck tooth, whose name was obviously well earned once you had looked at him. the old native seemed stunned by the volley of interrogations, and sat stolidly in his saddle while more were shot at him. "ugh!" he grunted in answer. "fight yistidy--back there," and he waved a dirty hand in the direction whence he had come. "sure they were yaquis?" asked snake. "sure; me know--me yaqui once!" "that's right!" fairly shouted bud. "i forgot, for the time being, that buck tooth is a sort of yaqui indian. but how comes it they fired on one of their own tribe?" he asked. "bad yaquis--no good!" was the answer. "that's right--they sure are bad!" declared rolling stone. "i've had dealings with 'em!" "did you see anything of their prisoners--young lady and young man?" asked snake. "say, you'd better talk with him--you can sling his lingo better than i can," and the cowboy appealed to bud. thereupon the boy rancher talked to buck tooth in a way he knew his indian helper could understand, and buck tooth answered in like strain. the indian had been at happy valley ever since that venture had been under way, and in that time bud and the old native had come to understand one another very well. buck tooth, it will be remembered, was of aid to bud and his cousins when the fight over the water rights and the dam was under way, and the indian helped fight del pinzo's gang. "it's this way," bud translated to the others, having finished questioning the indian. "he got sort of lonesome after we left the ranch, and though i told him he must stay, he hiked off on his own hook to join us. he took a roundabout trail so he wouldn't meet up with us too soon and get sent back. "then, it appears, yesterday, he ran into a bunch of yaquis, and they fired at him. he got in among some rocks and fired back, and he says he did for two or three. maybe he wounded 'em, or maybe he made 'em candidates for the happy hunting grounds. anyhow, after the fight he managed to get on our trail, and here he is." "but did he see anything of rosemary and floyd?" asked nort. "not a sign. he says these yaquis didn't have any captives," bud answered. "how do you account for that?" dick wanted to know, while rather a grim silence fell on the others. "well, this may have been another party of indians. very likely was," bud declared. "that's right!" chimed in snake. "the ones that captured rosemary and floyd could hardly have gotten so far north as the ones were that gave buck tooth that little reminder in the shoulder." this opinion, coming from one who could reason out the matter, made everyone feel less apprehensive. "there must be two or three bodies of these yaquis," went on snake purdee. "they always split up after a raid. one party has rosemary and floyd, and another engaged in a little set-to with buck tooth. being one of them he knew their fighting tricks and he left his marks on 'em." "it's queer one indian would turn against the others of the same tribe," spoke nort. "no, not in buck tooth's case," declared bud. "he's a good indian, if ever there was one. and, as he says, these yaquis may be a lot of half-breeds, or a part of the tribe that is outlawed from the others. i'm not standing up for the yaquis," he hastened to add, "for i know they've done a lot of dirty work. but this bunch may be worse than the others. anyhow buck tooth says so. and i'm glad he's with us. i felt sorry after i left him back at the ranch." "yes, he'll be of service i reckon," asserted snake, and yellin' kid nodded in agreement. the indian's wound, which he had not troubled himself to dress, was looked after with rough and ready, but effective cowboy skill and then, a good camping place near a water hole having been reached, saddles were taken off the weary steeds who began to roll about in welcome relief. the fires were made, grub cooked and as night settled down all prepared for much-needed rest. "well, another day or two and we ought to catch up to 'em," observed bud, as he prepared to turn in with the others. "that's right," agreed yellin' kid. "they can't have traveled any faster than we did, and we took a shorter trail." the night passed without any incidents of moment, though nort nearly gave a needless alarm when he sprang up, declaring that he was being "roped" in the darkness. but a light revealed that only a harmless snake was crawling over his neck, an unpleasant enough sensation as you doubtless will admit, but one not necessarily disastrous. "burr-r-r-r!" shuddered nort, when he saw that it was a snake, and not a lariat that had rasped him. "i'd almost rather it was a lasso! i hate snakes!" then sleep was resumed. the gray, cold and somewhat cheerless dawn was breaking over the temporary camp when, as buck tooth toddled over to replenish the fire for breakfast, there came sharp cracks of rifles from the surrounding rocks and scrub underbrush, and the old indian fell. "yaquis!" yelled nort, springing for his gun. "ambushed!" cried bud. "steady, everybody!" shouted yellin' kid and his strenuous voice, rumbling and echoing through the silent morning, seemed to calm them all. "get down on your faces! drop!" commanded the cowboy, while puffs of smoke, flashes of fire and nerve-racking reports told that the attack from ambush was in some force. chapter xi the surprise camp had been made by the boy ranchers and their friends in a little glade, amid rocks and stunted brush, a natural fortification as it were, with only one side open. and it was from this one side that the shots from the ambushers were pouring in. though yellin' kid and snake purdee had said nothing to the boys about it, the place had been purposely selected with an eye to its possible defense. "you can't tell what will happen in this country," snake had said to yellin' kid, and the latter agreed, lowering his voice, for once at least, so bud and his cousins could not hear. "we've got to be on our guard," snake had added, and so, while bud, nort and dick would have been willing to slump down almost anywhere, and camp as soon as they found water, this secluded site was selected. the wisdom of this was now apparent, since, had there been no natural shelter available, several casualties might have resulted from the opening of a fusillade at dawn. as it was, however, so quickly had the cowboys (and with them i now include buck tooth) taken to shelter, that, aside from a few minor wounds on the part of two or three, no one was badly hit. "what's it all about?" called bud from behind his sheltering stone to snake. bud's gun was hot, for he had emptied the magazine, and with little effect, as was afterward learned. "who's attacking us?" added nort. he, as had dick, had also fired rapidly and with equal non-effect. "search me," succinctly replied snake. "all i know is that there's somebody out there anxious to fill us full of lead--more anxious than i am to be filled," he added grimly. "lay low everybody!" he shouted, as another burst of firing succeeded the calm that had followed the first attack. bullets "zinged" in amid the rocks, striking the hard stone with vicious "pings!" and leaving grim, gray marks on the boulders; marks that would have brought spots of vital redness had they found a human target. bud refilled the magazine of his gun, and started a return fire when snake threw a piece of stone that fell near the boy rancher, thus attracting his attention. there was little use in shouting above the din. a voice could be heard only in the lulls of shooting. "what's the matter?" yelled bud, scarcely making himself heard. snake motioned for him to cease firing, an example followed by nort and dick. as for the older cowboys they had wisely witheld their fire. explanation was made by snake a moment later when he crawled over to bud, keeping well hidden amid the rocks, and speaking in his ear, though yelling at the top of his voice as he did so, said: "what's the use of shootin' when you can't see your mark? save your powder and lead!" it was good advice. bud could not help but laugh at the conclusion of snake's advice. for the cowboy had started to give it in tones that yellin' kid might have been proud to own. this was necessary because those in ambush were firing in full force it seemed. but they stopped suddenly, in the midst of snake's remarks, so that the end of the cowboy's advice fell amid a silence, and, being delivered at full power must have been heard by the enemy. bud's laughter at this little incident was echoed by the others, and, for the moment, relieved the grim tension. but its grip tightened on all of them a moment later, as a bullet, viciously "zinging" its way amid the rocks, clipped a little from the lobe of the ear of one of the cowboys. he uttered an exclamation, partly of disgust at his own carelessness in exposing himself, and snake yelled: "i told you to keep down, you tenderfoot!" it was the harshest expression that could have been used. following that single shot, after the fusillade that had been in play during snake's advice to bud, silence fell, and snake and yellin' kid at once began to make preparations for what might be a prolonged fight. the two veteran cowboys in virtual charge of the relief expedition managed to crawl together to the shelter of a big rock, and there held a consultation, the while cautioning the others to remain behind the protection of boulders they had picked out after the first rush. fortunately the horses had all been well picketed in a glade back of the rocky fastness in which our friends had made fires and slept for the night, so the outfit from diamond x was between its steeds and the enemy. the horses, though at first startled by the firing, had soon settled down to a quiet cropping of such scanty herbage as grew in that desolate place. the animals were accustomed to the noise of guns, which formed an important part of every roundup, and, fortunately none had strayed. i say fortunately with good reason, for in that wild country a man without a horse was worse off than one without a country, all patriotic reasons aside, of course. it was impossible for a man on foot to successfully make his way from water hole to water hole, and an automobile would have been worse than useless. therefore it was with a feeling of thankfulness that bud and his friends realized the horses were safe--at least for the time being. "fellows, listen to me," snake said in a low, clear voice, after he and the kid had talked in half whispers for a time. "we've got to do something, and maybe prepare for quite a fight. now those whose names i call come with me. the others stay here with the kid." thereupon snake named half the force, including in it the three boy ranchers, to their great delight. for they rightly guessed this was to be a skirmish party, to sally out and see who were the attackers--perhaps to wipe them out. "crawl over to the left and wait for me," went on snake. "don't move until you can have shelter all the way. the firing's coming from only one direction as yet--guard against that. get together and wait for me." sharp are the wits of those who live in the west, especially in the cattle country where snap judgment is often needed. thus it took but a moment for snake's plan to make itself plain to bud and the others. one by one they crawled, or ran half crouched, from their original places of safety to the angle where a great rock, jutting out from the side of the glen in which they had camped, offered shelter for all. there they stood, with ready guns, waiting for the next move in the grim game. snake had remained in consultation with yellin' kid until now, and then, seeing his force waiting for him, the veteran cowboy made a dash to join them. i call it a dash, but snake was not foolhardy, and the advice he gave he took himself. advantaging himself of every natural cover, the leader of the second party dodged this way and that, stooping over half double, until he was within ten feet of the shelter. then since along the route where he came from, there was an open, unprotected space, he tried to cross this in two jumps. he succeeded, but as he landed, and half fell amid his comrades, a gun barked, somewhere out in the ambush, and by the convulsive movement of his body snake gave evidence of having been hit. "are you hurt?" cried bud, as he caught the reeling cowboy. "guess not--much!" grunted snake, but his voice was labored. "where was it?" snapped out one of the cowboys. "let's have a look." "here!" snake placed his hand over his heart. the boy ranchers gasped--they knew what it meant to lose one of their leaders at a time like this. in an instant snake's coat was flung open, and his shirt half torn to expose his chest. and then there fell out, from next his skin on which it had made an ugly bruise, a partly flattened bullet. "whew!" whistled nort. "close call, that!" added dick. "doggone!" voiced snake, as he reached his hand to the inside pocket of his vest. "they spilled half of it!" "what?" asked bud, relief showing itself in his voice. "my tobacco!" answered snake. "i had some packed away there to keep it moist--some new kind of plug chewin' i got last week. doggoned if they ain't put a bullet clean through it!" "and lucky for you they did," grunted tar soap mullin, who had earned this name from the kind of lather he used in shampooing himself every saturday night. "if that bullet hadn't happened to hit your plug it would have plugged you." and this was evident when snake took out the tobacco in question. the lead missile had struck the hard and pressed cake of tobacco, striking a tin tag fastened to it, and thus the force of the bullet had been neutralized, giving snake no more than a severe shock and bruise. "well, it might have been worse," the cowboy grimly said, as he tucked back his shirt, and put the tobacco in another pocket. "now we got to get busy! this is getting serious!" bud and his chums thought he might have said it was serious from the start, as indeed it was. "what i picked you fellows out for," went on snake, "is to take a sort of scurry out there and see who's doin' all this shootin'." he clipped letters off his words in his haste. "we're goin' out there an' see if we can take 'em in the rear, while yellin' kid holds their attention in front." "do you reckon they're yaquis?" asked tar soap. "might be, then ag'in might not. if they aren't i don't see why in the name of all the rattlers of forked rover [transcriber's note: river?] they're pickin' on us." the method of procedure was simple and quickly agreed upon. snake was to lead the boy ranchers and his half of the party, by as safe and devious a route as possible, out of the natural fort, to try and take the enemy in the rear. if they could be placed between two fires--that of snake's party and of yellin' kid's--a surrender might be compelled. "and don't take too many chances," advised snake, as the sally forth was started. "watch yourselves." they all knew enough to do this. "when do we start?" asked bud in a low voice, as snake seemed to be delaying for some reason. "soon as the kid and his lads start firing," was the answer. "they're to hold the indians' attention in front while we come at 'em from the flank and rear. get ready--it may come at any moment now!" it did, a second or two later--the signal. amid a burst of shots from yellin' kid and his force, snake led the way with his men, all of them crouching down to keep as much as possible behind the rocks. "don't shoot until you see something to shoot at," snake had ordered. "save your lead." bud, nort and dick were together, leaping, crawling, crouching and stumbling. suddenly dick, who had gone a little ahead of his two chums, looked through an opening of the rocks. what he saw caused him to gasp in surprise, and as he pointed he cried: "del pinzo! del pinzo and his crowd! it isn't the yaquis at all! it's del pinzo!" chapter xii forward again time was when the mention of del pinzo's name would have brought forth a yell of anger from the cowboys of diamond x ranch. he was an enemy at once to be feared and loathed, for he did not fight fair, and he was of the detested, half-breed mexican type. but now, when the cry of dick apprised the others of the presence of this ruthless cattle rustler, thief and all-around bad man, there was no answering shout. one reason for this was that caution was necessary, so that the presence of the skirmishing party be not disclosed, and another was that the information that it was del pinzo, and presumably his gang who had ambushed our friends, came as a great surprise. "del pinzo?" half gasped snake purdee as he ran to dick's side. "yes, there he is! see!" the boy rancher pointed to a figure standing near a stunted bush. there was no doubt about it--del pinzo it was, and at his usual business, firing on some one, for he had a rifle raised, in the act of taking aim. "i'll spoil one shot for him, anyhow," announced snake. he whipped out his . , there was a sharp crack, and the gun of the mexican half breed dropped to the ground, discharging as it fell, but harmlessly. and then the outlaw, with a yell of rage, gripped his right hand in his left. for snake had fired at the man's trigger member, thus disabling him for the time. and, as he turned, and beheld who had thus "winged" him, del pinzo gave another cry--as filled with surprise as had been the exclamation of dick on beholding the mexican renegade who, it was supposed, was safely locked up in penalty for many crimes. "that your bunch down there?" called del pinzo to snake, and he waved his uninjured hand toward the camp amid the rocks. "you said something, del pinzo," grimly answered the cowboy. "what you all up to now? be careful--i have you covered!" he warned. "and if your men want to bask in the sweet sunshine of your presence from now on, tell 'em to chuck down their guns. also, up with your hands!" there was a stinging menace in the tones that del pinzo knew well enough to obey. his hands, one dripping blood, were raised over his head, and he called something in spanish to his followers, as yet unseen by the boy ranchers and their friends. instantly the scattered firing on the part of the outlaws ceased, and, catching this air of silence, yellin' kid gave an order that silenced his guns. "now, what's the game?" demanded snake, holding the whip hand as it were. "what do you mean by firing on us?" "i did not know it was you," declared the half breed. "we set out to look for the yaquis--" "the yaquis?" interrupted snake. "sure! they have risen, it is said, and i and my men are on their trail!" this was news indeed--another surprise, in fact. that del pinzo was speaking the truth could scarcely be believed. in the first place this was almost an unknown accomplishment with him, and in the second place the yaquis were of his own kind--reckless outlaws who would stop at nothing to get booty, either in cattle or money. it was more likely that del pinzo and his gang were seeking an opportunity to join forces with the band of up-rising yaquis. "oh, you're after the yaquis; are you!" asked snake. "sure, senor purdee!" del pinzo spoke fairly good english, and he could be polite when it suited him. "we saw that some one was encamped in the rocks, and i took them for the yaquis. so we opened fire--it is with sadness that i know now it was your friends whom i shot at." "um! maybe so--maybe not," grimly retorted the cowboy. "anyhow it's us, and it seems to be you. i thought you were somewhere else," he added referring to the fact that del pinzo had been arrested. it was not the first time the half breed had been in the toils of the law, following cattle raids on diamond x or other ranches. in the previous books of this series i have related some of del pinzo's outrages. he was concerned in the water fight that so nearly ended disastrously for bud and his cousins. "oh, i get out!" said del pinzo, easily, and with a shrug of his shoulders which might mean that coming forth from a jail was nothing in his life. "so i see," observed snake with a grin. "by hook or crook, i reckon. well, i don't know as we have anything against you and your bunch just at present. if you're after the yaquis you're on the same errand as us. but, if you'll excuse me sayin' so, i'd rather travel my own road." this was a delicate hint to which del pinzo was not oblivious. "surely, senor," he answered, grinning. "you go your way and i go mine. only let the fighting cease. as you say--there is nothing against me--now." "which isn't saying that there won't be, or hasn't been," spoke snake. "file out your men--without guns, you understand!" he snapped. "and then you can hit your own trail. looks like there'd been a mistake all round. we thought you the yaquis." "oh, senor purdee!" there was false injury in the tones. "and i'm not so sure but what it will turn out that way in the end," added the cowboy grimly. "however, we'll give the benefit of the doubt for the time being. file out!" del pinzo gave an order, and his band of disreputable half breeds like himself, including several indians, though not of the yaquis tribe, marched out, hands above their heads, while snake and his men, the boy ranchers in the van, watched. "is that all?" asked snake, when the outlaws stood in a row amid the rocks. he was taking no chances on leaving a hidden, lurking foe to fire behind their backs. "all, senor purdee. shall we go?" "when i tell you to, yes. now, del pinzo, you know i don't trust you, and there's no use soft soaping the situation. i wouldn't trust you with a mexican dollar. so here's what you've got to do. "march over there," and he indicated a bunch of scrub about half a mile away. "stay there until we get breakfast and are on our way. when we're far enough off i'll fire a shot, and that'll mean you can come over here again, get your horses and guns, and take after the yaquis, if it suits you." "we want to drive the indians back," declared del pinzo. "yes, i reckon they're picking on your preserves, that's the reason," said snake. "well, this is a free country. as long as you're out of jail--though how you beat it i can't guess--you can do as you please, i s'pose--as long as it doesn't interfere with us. "so hit any trail you like as long as it isn't ours. now remember--don't make a break for your horses and guns until i fire a shot." "so be it, senor. and one thing more?" "what is it?" "may i put down my hands? i am wounded--" "oh, put 'em down? i didn't more than graze you to keep you from shooting one of our men. put 'em down!" with a sigh of relief the outlaw lowered his hands, an example followed by his men, all of whom were unarmed. they marched behind their leader to the place designated, and for the first time snake breathed easily. "how do you reckon he got here?" asked bud, when hurried preparations were under way for breakfast. "give it up," answered snake, who had sent some men to collect the guns and horses of the del pinzo gang. "he may have bribed his way out of jail, or have broken out, and we'll have to let that go until later. he may really be trying to drive back the yaquis, for fear they'll steal things that he has an eye to himself. or he may be lying--i think most likely the last. anyhow he happened to strike this place the same time as we did, and either knowing who we were, or not knowing, and that part has me guessing, he tried to pick us off. however we'll give him the slip this time." "i don't see how, if you leave him his horses and guns," put in yellin' kid. "well, he and his men can't do much riding on horses without saddles and bridles," said snake, "and as for the guns--well, i'll leave them for him at the first ranch i come to." "you mean you're going to take his guns with you?" asked bud. "surest thing you ever said, son. think i'd trust him with any shooting irons behind me. and we'll just strip his horses, too. we can pack along his saddles and bridles. if they want to ride bare back that's up to them." and this was the plan followed. there were several pack animals in the outfit from the diamond x, and on these the saddles and bridles from the outlaws' horses were packed. then the guns were collected from the ambush, and taken along when the start was made after breakfast. "hit the trail!" cried snake, when preparations were complete. off in the distance, hungrily waiting for the signal that would let them return, stood del pinzo and his gang. their food was not disturbed. they had the means for making breakfast. off rode snake and his followers. at a distance of little more than half a mile from the scene of the fighting, on a rising hill, the cowboy stopped. "here's where we let 'em go back and eat," he said grimly. he raised his gun and fired a shot. instantly the gang, with del pinzo in the lead, rushed for the place where their property had been left. "we spiked their guns, i think," chuckled bud, as he rode beside his cousins. "i guess yes!" laughed nort. forward they rode once more--on the trail of the yaquis. as they dipped down into a little valley there came to their ears faint yells of rage. "they've found their saddles gone!" said nort. again came a shout. "they've missed their bridles!" said dick. a louder yell! "no guns!" shouted bud. "oh, this is one time we put it all over del pinzo!" forward rode the outfit from diamond x. chapter xiii weary captives "rosemary, are you able to stand it?" floyd put this question to his sister as the weary captives were urged along the trail by the yaquis. "we've just _got_ to stand it, floyd," was the brave answer. "help must come to us, and we must bear up until it does come." "oh, i can stand it all right--i really don't mind. but for you--it must be terrible! and the worst of it is i can't do a thing to help you." "not now, no, floyd," rosemary answered, with a brave attempt at a smile. "but we must watch our chance. these mexican indians aren't like our own--or like our own used to be. they aren't half as smart. we ought to be able to escape from them if we get half a chance." "well, maybe, rosemary. but they're bad enough if they aren't smart." floyd spoke with all the evidence on his side. for a more disreputable, unsavory, desperate and wicked band of men it would be almost impossible to find. repulsive in face, dirty, tattered and torn, wearing all sorts of cast off garments, a few in blankets, astride bony and broken horses, most of them, but each one armed with gun, revolver or knife, it was a crew of pirates, cut-throats, highwaymen to be carefully shunned. "well, i'm glad to see you keeping your courage up, rosemary," remarked her brother, trying to ease himself in the saddle. it was not very feasible, as the captives were partly tied to prevent their escape, and they could not shift about as they pleased. "oh, we have to make the best of it, floyd," his sister told him. "they haven't treated us roughly yet." "no, and i wonder at it." "it's because they have taken us for a ransom, i'm sure. they know if they don't hand us over in good shape there will be no ransom money for them." "who do you think they count on getting it from?" "our relatives, of course. or maybe they think uncle sam will intervene on our behalf." "i wish to goodness he would--that he'd send a band of u.s. regulars after this bunch of pirates. golly! how the yaquis would scatter; eh, rosemary?" "maybe we'll see that soon, floyd. and maybe the boys from the diamond x will come to our rescue. you know bud's mother wrote that he and his two eastern cousins had a ranch of their own now. my message ought to reach some one." "i hope it does, rosemary. but who's this coming up?" the talk of brother and sister had attracted the attention of the indians, and there had been muttered comments. following this one of the knot of guards around the two captives had spurred ahead to where paz rode. then back with the messenger came riding an indian better mounted and equipped than most of the members of the band. he forced his horse between the steeds of rosemary and floyd, and gave each of them a grin he may have intended to be friendly. "what's the idea--mike?" asked floyd. "mike? why do you call him that?" asked rosemary. "because he looks friendly enough to be an irishman," was the answer. "see, he has a turned up nose, i verily believe he has irish blood in him. let's call him mike." "mike" grinned, though doubtless he understood nothing of what was said. "he does look irish," agreed rosemary. "but i don't see how." the explanation probably was that some wandering, adventuring irishman had married an indian woman. the yaquis, like many other indian or native tribes often intermarried. in fact it was this that in a measure led to their downfall. for they lost the ideals of their race, disease crept in and to-day many a band of what was once a noble people is but a dragged-out remnant, steeped in crime. the yaquis were once among the best of the mexican indian tribes. though not large in numbers they were clean-living and of high character. the spanish conquest of mexico marked the beginning of the end for them, as it did many another mexican race. there was once a great civilization existing in the narrow strip of land connecting north and south america. now only the faintest traces remain. once the indian tribes flourished, they may even have had a written language, of which now only a few idiograms remain. the men and women were skilled in basketry, pottery and the making of gold and silver ornaments. but they fell upon evil days, or evil days came to them, it matters little which, and they began to go down. today there are only a few thousands of the yaquis left, and they have degenerated into train robbers along the southern pacific line. they live like beasts, they have mingled with negroes, degenerate spaniards and mexicans until it is almost an insult to apply the name "indian" to them. and it was a band of such natives as this that had captured rosemary and floyd. kept as much as possible to the confines of what might be termed, unofficially, a reservation, the yaquis occasionally broke through the line of mexican soldier guards and went on a rampage, often crossing the border into arizona, as happened in the spring of , when several americans were killed in a border town. it was an uprising of this same nature which had spelled trouble for rosemary and her brother. they had happened along at the wrong time, as it were. tired and weary, in body and spirit, the captives were urged forward. "mike" as our friends had dubbed him, seemed good natured enough, for he kept a perpetual grin on his face. his mission seemed to be to ride between rosemary and floyd, and prevent any collusion to escape. however there was no time or chance to think of that now. the cavalcade filed along a narrow, rocky gorge, from which there was no side trail. paz and some of his more intimate followers rode in the van, and the rear guard was made up of ragged indians--with apologies for using the name. rosemary and floyd would not have had a chance had they been able to turn their horses and make a bolt for it. so they must ride on. they were too weary to talk now, they could only hope for the best. when would the rescuers come? a halt was made at noon, and some coarse food was passed to the captives. rosemary shuddered at it and turned away. "you must eat," floyd told her. "got to keep up your strength you know." and she managed to choke down a few mouthfuls. the afternoon passed wearily. they were going deeper into the mountains it seemed. there appeared to be some dispute between paz on one side and a few of his followers on the other. and it seemed to have to do with a place to camp for the night. the men wanted to stop while the sun was yet in sight, but paz insisted on going on until it was below the jagged peaks. then he indicated a place where camp was to be made. mike slid off his horse, and, loosening the ropes, indicated that rosemary and floyd were to do the same. so cramped and stiff was rosemary that she fell in a heap as she slid from the saddle. with a cry floyd sprang to her aid, only to be thrust back by mike. "what do you mean?" yelled the boy. "i want to help my sister--you--you--" he was spluttering with rage as he raised his hand, and looked about for a rock with which to attack the indian. "don't--floyd!" called rosemary calmly. "i am all right--just numb, that's all! don't get into a fight. they may separate us!" indeed that did seem to be the orders given by paz, who rode up a moment later. for mike took rosemary by the arm, and was leading her away, while another indian, dirty, greasy and with an evil grin on his fat face, thrust floyd to one side. "stop!" suddenly cried rosemary. she swung free of mike's grasp, and in an instant that individual was looking straight into the muzzle of a small but very serviceable automatic. chapter xiv surrounded bubbling over with mirth, at the manner in which they had gotten the best of del pinzo and his gang, the outfit from diamond x rode on the trail again, once more intent on trailing the yaquis that had captured floyd and rosemary. and if bud, nort and dick could, at that moment, or thereabouts, have seen rosemary boldly defying the evil-faced mike with her automatic, their admiration for the girl would have been manifested by yells of approval. but bud and his chums, with their cowboy friends, were all unaware of what was happening farther on in the desolate mountain whither the indians had led their captives. if they had been they probably would not have ridden on in such comparative leisure. for they did not rush at headlong pace, knowing they had a long, long trail ahead of them, and must conserve not only their strength, but, what was more important, that of their horses. without horses it would have been impossible to have gone on for more than a short distance in that wild country. as i have explained motor cars, even the marvelous little ford, would have been out of the question, so rough was the trail, so winding amid rocks, now down in some narrow defile, hardly wide enough for a single rider, and again ascending some slope tangled with brush and dead trees. knowing themselves to be thus dependent on their horses our heroes saved their steeds all they could. it was for this reason that, much as they hated del pinzo and his gang, they would not deprive these outlaws of what was a means of life--their horses. "but they won't ride after us, and i don't believe they'll give us any more trouble," chuckled bud, as he visioned the outlaws, used to their comfortable if clumsy saddles, riding bareback. to a horseman this is the limit of torture, for the horses of the west are no circus animals, with broad, flat backs. instead, they generally have a ridge of bone on which it is almost impossible to ride, even when a blanket or two is strapped on in place of a saddle. only an indian can manage to ride along with but a blanket for a seat. "yes, we put one over on them all right," agreed dick. "the only thing about it is that they held us up," remarked nort. "we're several hours behind our schedule now." "it can't be helped," spoke bud, looking at a deep scratch on his hand--a scratch caused by a glancing bullet. "we can't really do anything toward rescuing rosemary and floyd until we strike the trail of the yaquis, and it's mostly guess work until then." "but when we do locate them!" exclaimed nort, as he gripped the handle of his gun, "we'll let 'em see what a mistake they made!" "you got rid of a mouthful that time, son," observed yellin' kid. and then, lifting his voice he roared out: "as i was ridin' on the trail, my true love for to see. i met a four-legged grizzly bear, an' th' grizzly he met me! "'oh kind mr. bear,' i gently called, 'move on!' but he shook his head. so then i ups with my . an' fills him full of lead!" having gotten this out of his "system," yellin' kid seemed to feel better. he smiled genially at the boy ranchers, and flapping his hat down on the side of his pony sent the animal ahead in a cloud of dust to join some of his companions in the lead. thus, making merry as possible under the circumstances, the outfit from diamond x resumed the trail, the more experienced cowboys looking here and there for any "sign" that would indicate the presence or the passage of the yaquis. as a matter of fact snake purdee did not expect to "meet up" with any of the indians for some time. he and rolling stone had talked the matter over, and rolling stone had given the benefit of his experience in trailing yaquis. "with them," said the new acquisition to diamond x, "it's a sort of a flash in the pan. they get excited for some reason or other, have a war dance, a pow wow or some ceremony, and before they know it some crazy leader has taken the trail with some of his friends, and they're bent on shooting up some mexican or american town, getting strong drink when they can, and stealing everything they can lay their dirty paws on. "that's when they're in the first rush of excitement, and i take it that it was on a time like this the yaquis took miss rosemary and floyd. why they did this, instead of shooting 'em, as they generally do, i can't make out. the yaquis don't ordinarily use those methods." "unless they took my cousins to hold for ransom," suggested bud. "well, of course that's possible, but i didn't know the yaquis were that smart," answered rolling stone. "still, some new leader may have gotten together a band, or it may be some half breed, or even some renegade american is at the bottom of this. i can understand a chap like that holding prisoners for ransom. "but what i started to say was that once the first wild outburst is over, the yaquis will keep mighty quiet. they won't go about with a brass band, advertising their hiding places." "you mean it won't be easy to find them?" asked nort. "that's it, son. they're going to be mighty cute and foxy, and while a yaqui isn't in it with our old time american indians in the matter of covering a trail, still we aren't going to have any walkover. we've got our work cut out for us." "i believe you!" shouted yellin' kid. "but we'll get the devils sooner or later." "the sooner the better," said rolling stone quietly, and there was in his very quietness a menace which the boys understood very well. every hour that rosemary and floyd remained in the hands of the yaquis meant an ever increasing danger. and once the mad frenzy of the indians wore off and they began to realize what they had done, anticipating the consequences once they were captured with the prisoners in their possession, there was hardly a question of what they would do to rosemary and floyd. the captives would be killed to get them out of the way. it was this that urged the rescue party ahead with all the speed possible, and consistent with preserving their horses' power to travel. in spite of wounds, and some were seriously hurt (one dying later) there was no sign of gloom in the midst of the party of which the boy ranchers formed an important element. some of the cowboys sang, and yellin' kid intoned another verse or two of the many songs with which he seemed plentifully provided. coming to a deep ravine, along which the trail led into the mountains, where it was reported the yaquis had headed, snake purdee called a halt. "what's the matter now?" asked rolling stone. "do you see anything?" asked bud, for he noticed the veteran cowboy looking down into the black depths. "no," answered snake slowly, "but it strikes me this is a good place to get rid of the saddles and truck we took offen del pinzo. no use carting the duffle along. it's no good to us and it only tires our pack mules. heave it down this gully, boys and we'll ride lighter." this was soon done, and the baggage animals, at least, went forward with easier burdens. the trail became more rough as it led upward, but snake explained that they would cross one range of the mountain, and come to a level plain which must be traversed before the second range would be reached. "and we'll either come across the yaquis in the plain, or as we go up the second mountain," said the cowboy. "that will be about their limit i fancy." they camped that night on the downward slope of the first mountain, having crossed the ridge through a narrow pass, not easy to negotiate. there was a more tense feeling when this night camp was made than at any time before. "for it seems now, somehow," explained bud, "that we're within striking distance of the yaquis. we're trailing 'em close!" "the closer the better--so, we can get a few shots at 'em!" declared nort. "will they really make a stand and fight?" asked dick. "i don't know," bud replied. "i never--" "they'll fight all right!" interrupted rolling stone. "they'll fight now just through fear of being captured. the first hot impulses that caused them to run wild are cooling off. they'll be worse to tackle now than when they first took the war path, for they will be cool and calculating, while before they were hot headed, and anyone who used half his brains could best 'em. yes, we aren't going to have a picnic." "well, we didn't come for that," said dick grimly. he and his companion boy ranchers were willing to endure all the hardships and dangers with the more seasoned cowboys, and bud and nort who, until within a comparatively recent time were unused to western ways, were now accounted as capable of bud, than which there was no higher praise. there was evident in the manner in which campfires were built, and a system of sentinel guards posted, that the older men realized the nearness of danger. the cowboys had dropped their half bantering manner, and sat grim-lipped and thoughtful of eye about the blaze. this change in their manners affected our youthful heroes who looked at one another somewhat apprehensively, and more than once let their hands stray to their weapons. but the night passed without untoward incident, if we except a false alarm given by bud when he was standing guard. he had been pacing backward and forward for some hours, and it was almost time for his relief, when he saw, peering over the top of a rock, what he took to be the feathered headdress of an indian. forgetting, for the moment that the yaquis did not adopt the picturesque adornments of the american redmen, bud fired, at the same time letting out a yell. of course, this roused the whole camp, and you can appreciate bud's chagrin when his "indian" proved to be nothing more than a waving branch of a bush topping a rock. the waving leaves had looked like feathers in the starlight, by which alone bud had seen them. "well, i wasn't taking any chances," he said, when the cause of his alarm was ascertained. "that's right," yellin' kid assured him. morning saw the party in saddle again, and as better time could be made on the down trail, they reached the intervening plain of the valley, between the two mountain ranges well before noon. a halt was made for "grub," and it was after this meal, when they were about to proceed again, that an astounding discovery was made. dick gave the alarm. he had gone off a little way to get his pony, which had strayed, when he saw, on the far horizon, a band of horsemen. they were too distant to be made out clearly, but against the intensely blue sky dick saw waving lances, and he at once shouted: "indians!" this was enough to focus all eyes, first on him and then on the approaching band. the waving lances could plainly be seen now. "and look there!" cried nort, as he pointed to the north, a direction exactly opposite to that whence the horsemen discovered by dick were approaching. "more indians!" shouted yellin' kid. snake purdee leaped to a high rock and with rapid gaze swept the horizon. "they're coming from all directions," he said grimly, as he leaped down and began a rapid survey of their position, with a view to its defence. "we're being surrounded!" and this was so. from all points there rode in on the outfit from diamond x an ever narrowing circle of horsemen, many of whom carried lances which pointed toward the zenith. "they aren't yaquis," exclaimed rolling stone. "those mexican indians don't carry lances. they must have met up with a band from some american reservation and have gotten them to go on the warpath. this looks bad!" chapter xv with the troopers with a skill and foresight which never seemed to leave them, the leaders of the rescue expedition had selected the place for the dinner stop with a view to its possible defense in case of emergency. this was part and parcel of life in the west, especially when on an expedition of this character. in consequence there were several natural places of refuge and hiding, behind which a fight could be conducted. and as soon as it was ascertained that a body of horseman--hostile it seemed they must be--were riding against them, the first thought was how best a fight could be conducted. "get in the horses!" commanded rolling stone. "they'll shoot them off first crack out of the box, for they'll know we're done for without our animals." as the rescuers had been about to move when the approaching party was discovered, and as some of the cowboys actually had their horses in hand, the securing of the remainder of the steeds was a work of no great moment. at one edge of the roughly outlined circle in which the noon camp had been pitched, was a group of big rocks, that would make a natural stable and hiding place for the horses. the animals were led into this little corral, and made fast there by lariats. as much of the baggage as possible was piled in with the horses. this much done by bud and his friends it was necessary to look to themselves, for the strange horsemen were slowly but surely coming on, and it was beyond question that they had entirely surrounded our heroes. from all points of the compass, a thin line it is true, but one in which there were no breaks, in came the attackers. "we've got to form a circle ourselves," said snake grimly. "get down as low as you can, boys, each one behind a rock, and with one at your back if you can make it. they won't rush us at first. they'll try to pick us off until they find out how many of us there are." quickly the others followed his advice. it was an admirable place to defend, and other things being equal could be held by a small band against a large body. but the factors of food and water would enter into the fight, and though the camp was watered by a little stream, everyone from diamond x knew the first act of the attackers would be to go higher up and cut off the supply of fluid. in this hot summer season men and beasts could only last a short time without water. then, having seen to it that the boy ranchers and the others were in as good a position of defense as possible, snake purdee picked out his own little niche and laid out on the ground in front of him his supply of cartridges. each man--and by "man" i include the boy ranchers--had a rifle and a revolver, or, rather, automatic, each weapon using cartridges of the same caliber. thus only one sort of ammunition had to be packed, and there was greater efficiency afforded. "get ready," called yellin' kid in as low a voice as he ever used. "they've come to a stop for a talk, and they'll begin shooting soon i reckon." the feet of the steeds ridden by the advancing horsemen had raised a cloud of dust which hung about them like a hazy curtain, preventing a clear view. in fact, after the first glimpse of the riders they had only been seen as dim figures approaching through this haze of dust. but now, as they had stopped, as yellin' kid had said, the dust began to drift away, and, for the first time our friends had a comparatively clear view of those surrounding them. it was bud who first gave the good news. looking intently at a horseman nearest him, the boy suddenly leaped to his feet and gave a shout that could be none other than joyous in its meaning. "get down, you idiot!" cried snake. "do you want a bullet through you?" but the lad continued to shout and yell, waving his hat, and there was no fusillade of shots from the ring of horsemen. then, for the first time bud made himself understandable, for he shouted: "they aren't indians! they aren't indians! they're united states troopers! hooray! now we've got our help!" "troopers?" repeated snake, for a cloud of dust had blown about him, greatly obscuring his vision. "troopers--sure!" yelled nort, now seeing what bud had beheld. and a moment later it was clear to all of the surrounded band that the horsemen were, indeed, mounted men of uncle sam's cavalry--a company of lancers, a type of the armed force that has gone out of existence now, but one which was very effective in some indian fights. a bugle rang out clear and sweet from somewhere in that surrounding circle of troopers, and instantly the outer edges of the ring began closing in. then our friends, knowing their fright had been without foundation, rose up from their hiding places and, standing together, with snake at their head as commander, waited for what was to come next. it was not long in manifesting itself. a trooper, evidently an orderly from a group of officers in front of our friends, rode up, waved his hand in place of a salute when he saw he had to deal with one of his own kind, and asked: "who are you and what are you doing?" "we're from diamond x ranch," replied snake, "and we're on the trail of the yaquis who have captured some of our friends!" "oh, the yaquis!" exclaimed the trooper, in evident surprise. "why, we're after the same bloody beggars! glad to have met you. we seem to be off the trail for some reason. captain marshal will want to speak to you. better come with me." "wait 'til i get my horse," murmured snake, for, like all westerners, he hated to take more than a few steps out of the saddle. a moment later he was riding toward the officers of uncle sam's troopers, while the remainder of the lancers riding in, mingled with the small force from diamond x. "it's good to see you fellows!" chuckled bud as the bronze-faced soldiers gathered around the boy ranchers. "we were just about to open fire on you," said one of the lancers, and nort and dick noticed that in addition to the steel-tipped weapon each trooper carried a carbine and wore a revolver in his belt. the lances were, in reality, more for show than for actual use, though in charging the hostile indians the spears had served many a useful purpose. "glad you didn't," said yellin' kid. "there'd have been trouble, for we were all primed for you," and he waved his hand toward the rocks amid which some cowboys were just arising, picking up the ammunition they had spread out for quick use. "we thought you were yaquis, and we had orders to shoot to kill," explained another trooper. "and we took you for indians--not exactly yaquis, for they don't carry lances," said dick. "i'm glad it was a mistake all around." "but say, do you fellows know anything about these dirty mexicans who have crossed the border?" asked a third trooper, a lieutenant from his stripes, it would appear. "i won't call 'em indians, though i reckon they are, of a sort. but where are they? we got orders to take after 'em, but we can't get sight of so much as a dirty blanket." "well, we think we're on their trail," bud answered, "though maybe we are as far off as you are. anyhow--" but he did not complete the sentence. from the distance a single shot rang out, and as all turned they saw, standing on the sharp horizon line, a solitary figure, from near which arose a thin wisp of smoke. chapter xvi indian "sign" "what's that?" cried snake, turning from where he had been talking with captain marshall. "real indians this time?" "nothing to worry about," answered the commander of the troopers with a smile. "that's one of my scouts, and he's evidently found something." "found something?" questioned the veteran cowboy. "indian sign, most likely. i sent several men out, just before we sighted your party and took you for the yaquis. i told my men, if they discovered anything, to get within sight of us and fire one shot. then they were to stay on the spot until we came to investigate, and that's what we'll do now." "do you think it's the trail of the yaquis he has discovered?" asked nort, waving his hand toward the solitary horseman. "it may be--i rather hope so, for we haven't had any luck thus far in locating the beggars. when we sighted you we thought we were in for a fight, but it didn't happen," the captain added, his voice quite rueful. "i notice you came along all primed for business!" chuckled yellin' kid. "but we were ready for you--in case you had turned out to be those mexican imps!" added rolling stone. "yes, you seemed to have picked out a good spot," complimented the cavalry captain. "we were just talking among ourselves that we were going to have trouble in getting you out, when we saw one of you wave a hat and then we knew it was all right. in a way we were glad, for this fighting is nasty business at best, though we don't pass any of it up when it comes our way," he added with an air of pride in his troop. "you weren't any gladder to find out there was a mistake than we were," said dick. "you soldiers looked like a lot of indians with lances and scalps dangling from them." indeed the lances of the troopers were decorated with wisps from the tails of horses, and, at a distance, might have resembled grewsome human scalps. "there are few indians, now-a-days who use lances," said captain marshall. "they went out of date about the time fenimore cooper wrote about leather stocking. the indians didn't keep to their bows and arrows, or lances, once they could get guns and powder. i don't know much about the yaquis, but i fancy they did the same--discarded their lances, if they ever used any, and their bows, for guns." "another thing," added lieutenant snow, who was next in command to his captain, "scalps were too precious a trophy to dangle from the point of a lance. some indians may have tied strands of human hair on their lances, but i doubt if they used scalps. the scalps were hung at the belt of the man who took them, to be afterward displayed in his tepee. but i don't believe the mexican indians followed that practice, though of course i'm not certain about it." "the modern yaquis are mean enough to do anything," said rolling stone. "what the old timers did doesn't matter now. it's what these of today do. and i reckon ye've heard how a party of 'em has taken prisoners some of their friends," and he waved his hand toward the outfit from diamond x, of which he was not yet a full-fledged member. "yes, we heard about the uprising," admitted captain marshall. "we had orders to take the trail, and we've been on it since. well, as long as you are ready, we may as well trot over and see what the scout has to report. i hope he can put us on the real trail." the bugle sounded, the troopers formed, and with the boy ranchers and their friends falling in the rear, an unofficial part of the company of regulars, the cavalcade set forth again. on the way snake purdee, who rode beside captain marshall, told such details as he possessed about the capture of rosemary and floyd. the officer had heard pretty much the same story, for it had been wired to distant points on the theory that the yaquis would scatter, and there was no telling in which direction they would travel. "so del pinzo is on the rampage again; is he?" asked the captain, as they neared the lone scout, who was patiently waiting to impart such information as he had. "well, he won't rampage an awful lot until he gets a new outfit!" chuckled yellin' kid, who had ridden up to be on hand when the scout was reached. "what do you mean? did you shoot him up?" asked the cavalry captain. "if you did you ought to get a medal of honor, for of all the rascals in this section he's the worst." "we shot him and his followers up a bit," admitted snake, "but we didn't damage 'em as we ought. however we took their horse furniture and guns away and left 'em their animals. it'll be a few days before they get active again." "good!" exclaimed captain marshall. "and now we'll hear what kelly has to report." the scout saluted as his commanding officer rode up, and the others, realizing that there was a certain need of reserve in this first interview, held back until the captain should signify that he was ready to talk to them. for a time captain marshall and private kelly talked in low tones, the scout frequently leaning over to point to something on the ground, the captain gazing intently where his trooper indicated. finally the commander waved his hand to invite his fellow officers and troopers, as well as the members of diamond x, to approach. "kelly has found it," said the captain. "plenty of indian sign, which shows the yaquis, or some of them at least, passed this way. here's the trail, and we'll follow it. do you want to come with us?" he asked of snake purdee. "well, we'd like to, if it isn't asking too much. our main object is to get within shooting distance of these yaquis, and save this rosemary girl and her brother." "precisely our object," the captain said. "and as long as we have the same business i think we can do better together than if we separate. your men will undoubtedly be of service to us if the trail gets fainter, and there's no telling how many are in this band, so the more guns we have the better." "my idea," agreed the leader from diamond x. "and now let's have a look at this indian sign. rolling stone here claims to know a lot about the yaquis, and he may be able to put us wise to some of their wrinkles. come here, stone!" he invited. in order not to obliterate the faint marks in the soil which indicated the passage of a body of horsemen, the troopers, with bud and his friends, had halted some distance away from the lone scout. the latter had remained a little way off the trail, so his own horse's feet would not mingle with those of the enemy. for some time the older cowboys, rolling stone, captain marshall and a few of his men who had fought indians years back, gazed at the indian "sign" as it is called. in this sense the word means the evidences left by a passing body of indians, the casual and accidental record of passage. the word is also used to indicate arbitrary marks and symbols made by one body of indians to leave a message for some body of following savages. this sign language is very difficult for a person not accustomed to it to read, though it can not be said that the degenerate yaquis had the art down as fine as had our own american indians of two or three generations ago. "well, they've been along here, and they're headed that way," said rolling stone, thus confirming the opinion of the older troopers. "then the thing to do is to follow them," said the captain. "give the signal, bugler!" he called. once more the clear notes rang out, and the party started off after the yaquis. nort and dick, riding beside bud, toward the rear of the cavalcade, looked down to see what the "sign" consisted of. aside from some hoof marks in the earth they saw nothing. "they might have been made by our own ponies," observed nort. "yes, but they weren't," bud declared. "how can they tell?" asked dick. "oh, i don't know exactly, but there are dozens of little points that an indian trailer looks for," bud answered. "he can tell whether the horses trotted or walked. he can tell whether the man who rode him was a tenderfoot or a cowpuncher. and of course it's easy enough to tell in which direction a horse is going." "unless they put the shoes on backwards," said nort. "there isn't much of that done," said bud. "and, as a matter of fact, as you know, they don't shoe many horses out here. they let 'em run barefoot. anyhow, it looks as though we really were on the trail of the yaquis at last." "i hope so!" agreed nort and dick. chapter xvii an alarm while the boy ranchers and their friends from diamond x had joined forces with uncle sam's troopers and were warm on the trail of the yaquis, the squalid, degenerate and vicious band that had captured rosemary and floyd still retained possession of their captives. though disheartened and apprehensive, rosemary and her brother had made up their minds to one thing--they would not be separated--come what might. for his sister's sake floyd had firmly decided that if they attempted to take rosemary off by herself he would, at any cost, make an effort to follow, even if it resulted in his death at the hands of the indians. as for rosemary, she had but one thought--to remain near her brother at any cost. and as she had so far managed to conceal from the yaquis the fact that she possessed her efficient automatic, and a supply of ammunition, she felt a sense of security that otherwise would not have been with her. she, too, resolved on desperate measures before she would let them separate her and floyd. so when mike, as the one who carried out the orders of his villainous chief paz, tried to take rosemary off by herself, probably to break her spirit and induce her to send a letter to her friends asking that ransom money be forwarded--when mike tried to do this he received one of the surprises of his miserable life as he found himself looking into the muzzle of rosemary's gun. "ugh!" grunted the indian. "i don't know exactly what that means," said rosemary coolly, as she held the gun with steady hand so that it "covered" mike, "but my brother and i are going to stay together. if you try to separate us i'll shoot as many of you as i can, and i'm a pretty good shot," she added grimly. "then i'll shoot myself and him before i'll let you try any of your tricks on us!" she spoke with such fierce earnestness that, though all of her words may not have been intelligible to her captors, they at least understood her intent. paz gave a grunt, half of admiration and half of anger at this unexpected change in his plans. rosemary suddenly wheeled, facing him. she swung her weapon to cover the evil rascal. there was a spurt of flame, a puff of smoke and before the crack of the report snapped out the dirty, greasy hat of paz went spinning from his head. a cry of dismay arose from the followers of the yaqui chief and mingled with his own grunt of rage. with a yell mike reached for his gun, but with a gesture his chief stopped him, saying something in their own tongue. it was, undoubtedly, a command to refrain from shooting down the captives, which was the evident intent of mike. and of course that could easily have been done, for the yaquis were well armed with rifles and revolvers they had stolen in their raid. they were not the best shots in the world, but an infuriated band of them firing on a weary boy and girl, would have made short work of their lives. "that wasn't a miss!" said rosemary with a laugh, as she still held her gun to cover the leader. "i just wanted to shoot off your hat. i could have aimed lower down if i had wanted to. that was just to show you i know how to shoot!" "ugh!" grunted paz, and there was open admiration on his rascally face. he talked rapidly to mike and some of the latter's companions who had gathered around, and there was no further attempt to take floyd away from rosemary. the latter, however, was on her guard, for she feared they would rush her, and try to take away her weapon, the unexpected display of which, as much as her cleverness in shooting away the hat of paz, had held the indians at bay for the necessary reaction to take place. "yo' all right!" grunted paz with another grin, while one of his followers picked up the hat, looking curiously at the bullet hole through it: "yo' smart gal!" "sure did have your nerve with you!" complimented floyd, as he stood beside his sister. "i wish i had my gun!" "it's probably just as well you didn't have," she said with a smile--rather a wan and weary one it must be admitted. "why?" demanded floyd. "i'm as good a shot as you are." "i know it. but in matters of this kind ruffians will stand for more from a girl or woman than they would from a man. if you had drawn a gun they probably would have shot you down without a moment's hesitation. but when i pulled mine it took them off their feet, so to speak." "i wish it would take off a lot of their ugly heads, and their dirty bodies, too!" grunted floyd. "say, rose, what are we going to do? this is a terrible pickle to be in." "it's better to be in a pickle, for that's a sort of preservative, floyd," she joked, though how she had the heart to do this she herself scarcely realized. "as long as they keep us in pickle there's some hope," she went on, with a tired little laugh. "but when they take us out--well, i'll be glad to have my gun," she added grimly. she still held the weapon, but it was evident that she was not going to be obliged to use it again at once, either for intimidation or actual defence. paz waved to her to put it away, and she did, slipping it into a pocket of her skirt. it was a pocket she had had made for just such a purpose as carrying a gun where the ordinary observer would not see it. and if you have ever hunted for a pocket in your mother's or sister's skirt, and given up in disgust, you will understand that the subterfuge of rosemary was not as simple as at first appears. of course she realized that if they had been desperately bent on finding her weapon the yaquis could have taken it from her. but they evidently did not dream that she had one. and, now, when she had given a demonstration of how quickly she could draw and use it, they would be a bit careful of how they approached her. floyd's weapon, of course had been taken from him almost at once. he had been taken unawares or this might not have been the case. but it was probably better, under the circumstances, that he had no gun. or, as rosemary had said, he might have rashly fired and the answering shots from the indians might have killed both of the captives. "go on!" paz said to rosemary, indicating that she and her brother might remain together. she had brought about what she intended. the captives were led farther in among the rocks to a sort of natural cave, and there they were left, some food having been tossed down where they could reach it. it was the most primitive sort of a prison, so simple, in fact, that after a while floyd said: "what's to hinder us walking away from here, rosemary? they aren't watching us, and if we pack some of this grub--rotten as it is--maybe we can get away, and reach diamond x ranch." "i'm afraid we'd have small chance of that," rosemary answered wearily. "what i'm in hopes of is that some one will come to the rescue. i'm sure my note will bring us help." "yes, but _when_?" asked floyd, a bit fretfully. "it may be too late. i'm going to see if we can't get away. stay here and i'll crawl up to the top of the rock and see what the situation is." "i think you'll find it isn't as easy as it looks," said his sister. nor was it. in the first place the climb up the jagged rocks was wearisome, but floyd managed it. but when he was at the top, and looked over to see if there was a trail of escape, he was unpleasantly surprised by a piece of stone hitting him sharply on the head. at first he thought it was a fragment of rock dropping from above, perhaps dislodged by his exertions. but there was no rock over his head. he was at the highest peak in that immediate vicinity. then the lad's eyes roved about and he saw, sitting in a natural niche of the stone, not far from him, a greasy indian, who held his hand poised to toss another stone at floyd. the indian grinned and motioned to the captive to go back. then floyd understood. this indian was a sentry, placed on guard to prevent the captives leaving. "well?" questioned rosemary, as floyd slid back to where she was spreading out some blankets that had been tossed in with their food. "no go," was the discouraged answer. "they've got us hemmed in." "we'll just have to wait--that's all," said the girl. "i don't believe they'll do us any real harm now. they probably want money for letting us go. i expect they'll be having us write notes, soon, to uncle henry, asking him to forward ten thousand dollars, or some amount like that." "ten thousand dollars!" gasped floyd. "mexican!" laughed rosemary with a joking spirit she did not altogether feel. thus left to themselves, in a sort of natural prison of the rocks, a roofless cave, the captives spent the night, rolled in blankets. it was cool without a campfire, but none was allowed them. sore, stiff and disheartened, rosemary and floyd arose soon after the sun was up, and made a pretense at breakfast. they were given some tin cups of black, bitter and muddy coffee, without sugar, but it was most comforting. "i never tasted anything better!" declared floyd, draining the last drops. "nor i," agreed his sister. there was a movement among the indians, and it was evident that they were about to take to the trail again. rosemary and floyd wondered how far they would thus be led into the mountains. surely if a demand for ransom money was to be made it must be made soon. but then they did not know how far they were from the ranch of their uncle, whom they had set out to visit. they might be going toward it or away from it. they had lost all sense of direction. suddenly something seemed to take place down in the main camp of the indians that indicated a new element in the grim adventure. there were shouts and excited cries--cries of alarm, it was very evident. "oh!" cried rosemary with shining eyes. "maybe it's a rescue party after us?" "i hope so!" shouted floyd. a moment later mike, his face showing unmistakable signs of fear, came rushing in, and by signs, and talk in his own tongue, of which rosemary and floyd could understand a few words, he indicated that they were to follow him. meanwhile the confusion and alarm in the main body of the yaquis increased. what had happened? chapter xviii separated though realizing how useless it was to question mike--useless because she doubted if he understood her, and equally futile because he would not bother to answer her--still rosemary fired a volley of questions at the indian. "if i had my way i'd fire a volley of bullets at him--provided i had them to fire!" growled floyd. but he had not, and rosemary did not deem this an occasion to again produce her weapon, which she was keeping as a last resort. besides, mike did not betray any specially hostile intentions. he seemed merely anxious to get rosemary and floyd out of their prison pen, so to speak, and on the move. "but what's it all about?" demanded rosemary. "what's the excitement, and what's the hurry?" for that there was excitement and an alarm, and that she and her brother were being urged to hurry was very evident. "yes, what is it?" and floyd added his demand to that of his sister. "no _sabe_!" grunted mike, that being his way of using his command of spanish to indicate that he did not know. more likely he did not want to tell. but there was no way of forcing him. "oh, we've got to ride those horrid knife-backed ponies!" half groaned rosemary, as she saw led out for the use of herself and her brother the steeds on which they had been carried thus far into the mountains. "they're so bony i'm afraid their backbones will cut through the saddle." "they look as though they might," agreed floyd. "gee, but i'm dirty and i'd like a shave and this is perfectly rotten altogether!" he completed with a sigh. "don't mention such a thing as a bath tub!" wailed rosemary. "i don't believe these heathen know what water means for washing in." certainly the appearances of the yaquis bore out that assertion. they were dirty, grimy and greasy to a degree--and a high degree at that. rosemary wore bloomers under a short skirt, an attire eminently suited to women folk in the west. for rosemary was a rider of no small ability, more at home in the saddle than on the seat of an auto, and she and floyd counted on much riding once they reached their uncle's ranch which now, alas, seemed far away. thus attired the girl found no difficulty in getting into the saddle, and her ability provoked murmurs of admiration from the yaquis. "oh, if i only had a chance i'd show you how to ride!" declared rosemary, when she understood that her skill as a horsewoman was being commented on. "let me set out in the open once, with a good horse under me instead of a specimen of crow-bait, and i'll open your eyes!" but this was not to be--just yet. floyd, too, was a good rider, but his sister had more of a natural knack with ponies, and often bested him in a race. he too, now swung a leg over the saddle and mounted. with mike in the lead, and several of the yaquis bringing up in the rear as a guard against a retreat on the part of the captives, they were urged forward out of the rocky defile into which they had come the night before. eagerly rosemary and floyd looked about them for some indication as to the cause of the sudden excitement, and the movement among the indians. anxiously the captives scanned the horizon for a sight of some rescue party, the approach of which might have sent the indians scurrying for cover. but nothing was to be seen--at least of that nature, though rosemary and her brother did see something that caused them great surprise. this was a sight of the main body of the yaquis, under the leadership of paz, moving off at a right angle to the main trail, while mike, evidently in command of the smaller party which guarded the captives, was going on up the mountain slope, farther into the fastnesses of the rugged peaks. "say, what's up?" asked floyd, of his sister. "don't know, but it looks as if they had separated. one band going one way and our bunch this way. i don't like it either. i'd rather deal with paz, ugly as he is, than with this mike, who is irish only because we've given him that name," rosemary answered. "it is queer," murmured floyd, as he guided his pony along the difficult trail. "paz has gone off with the main body of indians, and left us in charge of these. if i only had a gun we could take a chance and rush them, rose. there's only about three dozen!" "too many for just one gun," she answered. "but can you guess what the game is?" her brother wanted to know. "well that's all i can do--guess. from what went on soon after breakfast i imagine some of the indians saw, or heard about a party that was on their trail." "you mean a party from diamond x?" "either that or soldiers." "that's so! soldiers!" cried floyd. "i hadn't thought of them! of course there are troopers stationed out here at various places. and word of the yaquis uprising is sure to go to them. maybe a band of u.s. regulars is on the way to save us, rose!" "i hope so. but we can't count on it. what i do think, though, is that paz took alarm at something, and he isn't going to chance being found with us on his hands." "you mean he's passing the buck to mike here?" "something like that. if our friends or uncle sam's men round up this bunch of cut throats and find us in their possession it will go hard with them. so paz isn't taking any chances." "that may be the explanation," agreed rosemary. "anyhow we're being taken farther into the mountains by a small band, and the larger body is sliding off to one side." "it's a queer thing," said floyd, as he and his sister rode along side by side, "that these yaquis didn't turn back into mexico, and take us across the border instead of rushing us into the united states." "maybe they were afraid to cross the border, which is pretty sure to be better guarded than usual, after this outbreak," rosemary said. "or maybe the yaquis didn't want to share spoils with any of their friends on their own side of the fence." "that's so!" agreed floyd. "and now that there's a chance of ransom money--or these beggars think there is--i reckon they're less anxious than before to whack it up. "that's it! they're taking us as far off as they can to keep the cash among themselves, and, meanwhile, paz leads the main body away from us." "but what that move means i'd like to know," mused rosemary. it was rather a puzzle to her and her brother. all they were sure of was what they saw--that the yaquis had separated, most of them following paz, while the captives were left in charge of the villainous mike and his selected followers. rosemary slipped her hand into her pocket to feel the handle of her automatic. chapter xix the fight the discovery of the indian trail, and the unmistakable evidence that the marks had been left by a band of yaquis, was the most encouraging news the boy ranchers and their friends had received since starting out to rescue rosemary and floyd. it was a fortunate meeting with the u.s. troopers. "only for that," observed bud, as he rode along with his cousins, "we'd have been way off. we were headed just in the opposite direction when we took to cover thinking the yaquis were coming after us." "yes, and the longer we traveled the farther off we'd be," agreed nort. "it's lucky all around." "it'll be luckier when we come up to this band of greasers and take rosemary and floyd away," declared dick. "just think!" exulted nort. "we'll soon be taking part in a real indian fight! i didn't think there could be such a thing outside of a novel." "are these yaquis real indians?" asked dick. "they don't impress me that way. seems more like fighting some low down colored men." "i wouldn't insult a decent negro by comparing him to an indian of the present yaquis tribe," laughed bud. "they aren't at all alike. but the yaquis are real indians of one of the mexican races--a race that was once among the best. of course, even then, they weren't like our american indians." "i guess i'm looking for tomahawks and scalping knives and listening for warwhoops!" admitted dick. "i have an indian stone pipe home, with a long flat stem, made of a piece of oak, with designs burned in it. around one end are wound some red and blue beads, and the stem has some old faded ribbons tied to it. have the yaquis anything like that?" he asked bud. "not that i know of. the present generation smoke cigarettes when they can get 'em, something no self-respecting american indian would dream of. maybe the yaquis have some such ceremony as smoking the peace pipe, but i don't know about it. i never saw any of their stone pipes. i know the kind you mean, dick. the pipe part is hollowed out with a small hole--hardly holds enough tobacco for a good smoke, i'd say, though i never tried it." "that's the kind," dick said. "well, to my mind, these yaquis aren't half so--so--well, you know what i mean," he concluded, at loss for the right word. "picturesque," suggested his brother. "that's it! they aren't at all the kind of indians you'd like to read about." "rex beach doesn't think much of 'em," commented bud. "i read in one of his books where he says the yaquis are a playful people, and they dearly love to hold up southern pacific trains. it's one of their favorite sports and pastimes." "do you really think they do?" asked dick. "if they're train robbers they have more gumption than i thought." "well, i don't know," admitted bud. "rex beach writes good stuff, and has some corking movies out, but maybe he was joking when he spoke of the yaquis. anyhow we know what they've done to our friends, and it's up to us to pay 'em back!" "you said a hollow-toothful that time, kid!" declared rolling stone, as he cantered up ahead to take part in a consultation, caused when a new "sign" was discovered. the discovery of new marks in the soil--marks left by the passing along of some indians--was deemed of enough importance to call a halt, while those most familiar in the interpretation of such mystic evidences, made certain what they indicated. in this discussion the boy ranchers could have no part for they were not at all versed in the meaning of what was quite plain to rolling stone, some of the trooper scouts and a few of the cowboys. "we'll eat as long as we had to stop," decided captain marshall, when it was made known to him that some of the scouts wanted to scurry about in a circle, and ascertain if there were any more evidences that would help solve many vital questions. the troopers had come out well rationed--much better so, in fact than had our friends, and the soldiers extended an invitation to their comrade in arms to partake of "grub," an invitation that was quickly accepted. for the american soldier is the best fed of any in the world. in the midst of the meal word was sent back to have buck tooth, the old indian in the service of bud, to come out to where the trooper scouts and cowboys were having a consultation. "buck tooth can tell 'em what's what," declared bud. "he claims to be a yaqui, though since these imps have pulled off this stunt i think i'll get buck tooth to change his tribe. but he can read indian sign all right." this was evidently so for, a little later, exultant shouts on the part of the trooper scouts and the cowboys announced that something new had been found. and it was buck tooth's discovery as the boy ranchers learned soon. the old indian had carefully studied the trail, and then, going off to one side, had hunted about until he found what he was in evident search of--another trail, leading in the opposite direction from that our friends had been following. "yaquis come 'long here--go up to mountain, then come back 'gin, same way like, then go like so," and buck tooth held out his arm stiffly, extending two fingers of his hand wide apart like a fork. "i see what he means!" exclaimed snake purdee. "they doubled on their track for part of the way back, and then branched off from the trail, thinking to fool us. but they didn't." "it looks that way," agreed lieutenant snow. "this trail buck tooth discovered is much the fresher. we ought to follow that." and this they did, after a hasty meal. once more they were after the yaquis, and late that night one of the scouts in the lead car riding back at full speed with the news: "they're right ahead of us!" "wow!" yelled bud. "hurray!" shouted dick. "get ready for the fight!" cried nort. "wait a minute now, boys!" advised snake. "you may have a proper part in the fracas, but remember we're with the united states troops, and under the leadership of captain marshall. we must do as he says." "oh, i guess the captain will give the boys a chance," said lieutenant snow with a smile, as he gave an order to the buglar. the stragglers rode in, the troops were quickly formed for immediate action, and other scouts were sent out to report on the location and disposition of the yaquis, which were about three miles in advance, the first scout said. "did you see anything of rosemary or floyd?" asked bud anxiously. "no. i wasn't close enough for that. but the beggars are legging it for all they're worth!" "then let's get after them!" cried the captain. "we don't want them to get away!" the pace had not been fast, so the horses were comparatively fresh, and they were now urged into a trot, while skirmishers were sent on ahead to receive the first reports of the advanced scouts. suddenly, as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, some of the scouts came riding back, pointing down into a small, rocky valley, while the foremost yelled: "they're making a stand down there!" "come on!" cried captain marshall, and, a few minutes later the fight against the yaquis began. chapter xx the white flag the boy ranchers--at least two of them,--were much disappointed at the manner in which this fight against the yaquis started. and i think i need not say that the two i mean were dick and nort. bud, while he had never before taken part in a fight against indians, did not expect so much of the romantically picturesque and so was not so disappointed. but like most healthy lads nort and dick, in their early days, had read many books about the west, stories of adventures among the cowboys, miners and indians--especially the latter. and all the stories had to do with the dashing manner in which the redmen fought, when they fought in the open. of course, when they had the chance, the indians preferred to sneak up on their victims and take them unawares. it was easier than standing up against gunfire. but when the indians had fought there was a dash and spirit about their attack that made the blood run faster in the veins. the redmen would begin circling about the band they were to attack, riding their ponies faster and faster as they approached, leaning over on the far side, to bring the animal's body between themselves and the hail of bullets. then the doughty indian, hanging to his saddle blanket by one moccasined foot would fire from under his pony's neck, dashing away in time to escape the white man's bullet. that was warfare to make any real lad wish to toss aside his school books and hike for the great west! and it was by anticipating such scenes as this that nort and dick were disappointed. but, in a way they had been prepared for it by seeing what manner of indians the yaquis were. no warpaint, no feathered headdresses, no necklaces of bears' claws, and of course no bows and arrows. it must be admitted that the stories on which nort and dick had fed their imaginations were true enough about the time they were written. but the romantic indians died off, or were confined on reservations, and those who occasionally sneaked over the border from mexico, to make raids by which they gathered in cattle, ponies and weapons, were not of this class. "it's like making an attack on a bunch of greasers!" declared nort, in some disgust, as the fight opened. but just then a bullet sang uncomfortably close to his head, and as he ducked down--too late of course had the shot been true--bud laughed and said: "don't lose sight of the fact that they can shoot!" indeed the yaquis, thus forced to make a stand and fight, were not going to give up easily. the soldiers, the outfit from diamond x and the boy ranchers were to have no easy time of it. it was inspiring to witness the manner in which the troopers went about the business of rounding up the renegade yaquis. at the first intimation that there was to be serious fighting, when the band had gotten close enough for effective work, the horses were sent back to be out of danger from the bullets. the animals belonging to bud, nort, dick and their friends were taken in charge by some of the troopers. for it was vitally necessary that means of retreat or of advance be preserved. and of course there was no thought of retreat on the part of our friends. buck tooth, the old indian, slid from his pony with a sigh of relief. he did not care for riding. he liked an automobile, but he was too fat to sit in comfort on a rangy cow pony. "keep head down!" he advised nort, as he saw the lad apparently duck a bullet. "guess that's good advice," admitted the lad with a sharp intaking of his breath. "do same like soldiers," went on buck tooth. and, as i have said, the example of the troopers was one to be followed. this was not the first time they had been in indian fights, and against more worthy foes of the redman type. each trooper picked out such natural shelter as was available, and then began looking over or around it for a sight of some human target at which to aim. this sort of warfare would be carried on until there was a chance to rush the yaquis, when the horses could be brought up for this purpose, or the charge made on foot. the indians, exercising as great care for their steeds as had the white men, had also sent the ponies to the rear. the place of the fight was about the middle of a small valley, closed in at either end by broken hills of rock, while rocks and great boulders were scattered over the floor of the vale, thus affording natural shelter for both sides. the rising ground at the rear of each party prevented the chance of a rapid retreat, and it was evident that the fight would go to a "finish." just how large the party of yaquis was could not be told, but captain marshall believed he had more men than were rallied to the support of paz, the notorious leader of the mexicans. "but i haven't seen rosemary or floyd," remarked nort, as he wormed himself into a hollow place behind a rock, not far from dick and bud. "well, they are probably back in the rear. that's where they generally keep their captives," explained dick. "if they see the fight going against them they'll send word back and some party will scoot out with our friends." "then we'll have the chasing to do all over again," ruefully observed nort. "oh, i guess captain marshall knows a trick or two," commented bud. "look, he's sending some of his men out now to try and get in the rear of the yaquis." dick and nort turned to see a detachment of the troopers making their way on hands and knees out among the rocks. their object was what bud had stated--to get in the rear of the indians and not only attack them from that vantage point but also to prevent a retreat with the captives, in case rosemary and floyd were at that point. and now the fight began in earnest. with each party in a position advantageous to it the first few minutes of attack and defense were marked only by firing that accomplished nothing. that is to say there was an exchange of bullets, most of which spattered against the rooks, sending up sprays of vicious lead or showers of pulverized stone, but inflicting no dangerous wounds. one of the troopers was temporarily blinded by some of this stone dust getting into his eyes when a bullet struck the rock just over his head, and several others, including lieutenant snow, were "creased" by bullets when they exposed an arm or leg. but these were only trifles in the day's adventure. if the yaquis were not as romantic, tricky and brave as the old apaches or sioux, they were no quitters, and they seemed to be well directed. for after the first scattered firing on their part, they began a fusillade which increased in intensity. "they aren't saving ammunition," commented snake, as he drew a quick sight on an exposed head, and had the satisfaction of seeing it drop back out of sight in a manner that told of a hit. "i guess they know it's a case of shoot or be shot," remarked yellin' kid, his tones low, for a wonder. it must be stated that the troopers and those with them fought under a better system, and were better trained, to say nothing of being better individual marksmen. for this reason the casualties on the side of the yaquis soon began to mount up. occasional yells, and the spasmodic leaping up of some "warrior" as he was hit after a careless exposure of limb or body, told that the renegades were paying toll. on the other hand more than one trooper was hit, two being killed not far from bud and his cousins. nor did our heroes escape. for nort received a nasty, but not dangerous wound in the left leg, while dick, incautiously looking from behind his rock, to see the effect of one of his shots, felt a bullet clip the lobe of his right ear, bringing pain and plenty of blood. at first bud and nort thought dick had been killed, for he fell back with a groan and his neck was stained a bright red, his ear bleeding freely. but after the momentary shock the lad raised himself--still keeping back of his rock, and cried: "i'm all right. that ear always was too long!" "good stuff, kid!" cried one of the troopers. "here, wind some of this on," and he tossed over a roll of antiseptic bandage. minor hurts were thus quickly bound up, and bud, having received a painful wound in the right hand, had to retire from the fight. he did not actually go to the rear, however, but remained with nort and dick, handing them cartridges to reload their weapons. "gosh! this is rotten!" bewailed bud, looking at his bandaged hand. it was dismay not at the nature of the wound, but because he could no longer "pepper" the yaquis. and the indians were being attacked with a vengeance and were being "peppered" to such good advantage that some of them rose up and started to run to the rear. this was the last running they did, however, for the unerring rifles of the troopers picked them off. and then the strategy of captain marshall had its effect. for suddenly the troopers he had sent to attack the rear of the yaquis opened up a fire and this, being augmented by shots from the main body, soon threw the indians into such confusion that the end was only a question of minutes. and it came suddenly. for just as captain marshall was preparing to order a charge, snake gave a yell and shouted: "the white flag! they're quitting!" chapter xxi the trick discovered truly enough, this had happened. on top of one of the jagged rocks, behind which they had conducted the defense that had failed, stood a ragged yaqui indian. to and fro, on the end of his gun, he waved not exactly a white flag, but a dirty rag that once might have been white. objects of this hue did not long remain like the driven snow among the yaquis. "cease firing!" blared the bugle, and the spiteful rattle of the soldiers' guns stopped abruptly. "cover the beggar, some of you," ordered captain marshall, "and a few of you get ready in case this is a trick and they try a rush. i'll look into this." "let me go!" pleaded lieutenant snow eagerly. "i can sling their lingo a bit, captain." "very well," assented the commander. "but watch yourself, mart. i don't trust the devils, though if they try any of their tricks we'll wipe out the whole band. i wish i had a rapid fire gun. we made a mistake coming off without it. but we had to leave in a hurry." during this brief talk, during which none of the soldiers or cowboys exposed themselves, the figure of the indian continued to stand in full view and easy shot, waving the flag that told of a desire to surrender. or did it? was it but a trick? that remained to be seen. seeing that his men were in readiness for quick work, captain marshall, himself holding his carbine where he could easily get at it, signalled to lieutenant stone to advance, under the flag of truce, to listen to the capitulation of the yaquis. a trooper went with the lieutenant, carrying one of the company guidons, which, while not exactly a flag of truce served the purpose well enough. besides the outfit from the fort and diamond x were not surrendering. "had enough, yaqui?" asked the lieutenant, as the indian came down from his perch, and advanced to a point midway between the hidden mexicans and the equally concealed troopers. in the rear was another band of soldiers, so, if it had been necessary, the indians could have been withered by a cross fire. "we stop," grunted the yaqui. it was the giving up. then followed a talk between the officer and the representative of the indians. this was not paz, who probably was too cowardly to trust himself in the open under the guns of his rightful enemies. "unconditional surrender, lay down every gun you have, march out and be made prisoners!" was the ultimatum of lieutenant snow. it was the only terms that could be offered the treacherous band that had broken over the border from mexico. "and tell 'em," shouted snake, who, with his friends had understood the import of what was said, "tell the beggar if any harm has come to rosemary or floyd, we'll kill every one of the greasers!" lieutenant snow waved his hand for silence. he listened to something the bearer of the flag of truce had to say, and then the officer announced: "the captives aren't here!" "aren't here!" cried bud, nort and dick together. "don't let nim fool you!" shouted yellin' kid. "order them to march out, unarmed and then we'll search their camp," called captain marshall. seeing that it would be useless to prolong matters, and knowing his entire band would be wiped out if he continued the fight, now that his rear was attacked, paz growled out the necessary orders to his followers, and they came out from amid the rocks--that is those who could walk. they were a sorry-looking lot. always of a nondescript type, dirty, ragged and greasy, the yaquis were even worse now, for they had been on the trail for some time, and had taken part in at least two fights. they had had no time to recuperate since making the raid in la nogalique. as they filed out, miserably enough, they were passed into a sort of hollow square, formed by the troopers, and there each indian was searched for a hidden knife or revolver. one or two were found and confiscated amid the snarls of rage on the part of the owners, who, doubtless, meditated treachery. paz and his followers having been secured, a guard placed over them, and the wounded of the troopers being cared for as well as possible, search was made of the place where the yaquis had made their stand. several dead indians were found, and some so badly wounded that death was only a question of a short time. these were made as comfortable as possible, for though they were entitled to little consideration while the fight was on, matters were different after the surrender. "but where can rosemary and floyd be?" was the question asked over and over again by the boy ranchers and their friends, when it was seen that the captives were not in the yaquis camp. at first it was supposed they had been sent to the rear with the indians who were guarding the ponies. but there was no trace of the youth and his sister who had been carried away. then the more sinister thought came. "could they have been made away with?" no one asked this in so many words, but it was in the minds of all, and a careful search was made to disclose if the ground had been recently dug up. nothing of the sort was found, however, and then the boy ranchers and their friends breathed more easily. but though the main body of yaquis had been captured the prisoners were not found. and one of the objects of the rescue party--the main object in fact--was to locate rosemary and floyd. "we've got to get it out of paz what has happened to them, if we--if we have to torture him!" declared snake. "can't you make him talk, captain?" "well, of course we dare not, for the sake of the good name of uncle sam's men, resort to torture. but we can try some modern police methods--putting him through the third degree, so to speak." "that's it!" cried bud. "give paz the third degree!" once the prisoners were secured, the wounded attended to and the dead buried, the whole attention of the rescue party was given to locating rosemary and floyd. that paz knew the secret of their disappearance could not be doubted--at least our friends did not doubt. "though of course," said captain marshall, when preparations were going on for putting paz through the third degree series of questions, "of course there may have been several bands involved in this raid, and some other body of yaquis may have taken away the young man and his sister." "it was paz, i'm sure of it!" declared bud. "he looks guilty!" certainly the yaquis leader looked ugly and mean enough to have perpetrated this deed. but he maintained a scowling silence as he sat on the ground before his captors. "now, paz," began lieutenant snow, who acted as interpreter, "you may as well tell the truth first as last, for we're going to get it out of you, if we have to resort to--well, you know what i mean. _sabe_?" "no _sabe_!" grunted the indian. then the work began. it was not a pleasant task, and it was only excusable on the plea of dire necessity. the yaquis were entitled to no mercy. but through ft all paz maintained a grim silence. when he did speak it was to deny that he or his followers had even seen rosemary and floyd, much less had they kidnapped them for a ransom. it remained for buck tooth to expose the trick. the wily indian, perhaps knowing the habits of the race he had forsaken, had been prowling about among the sullen prisoners. he openly laughed at them for the plight in which he found them, taunting them as cowards of the first water. then, having wrought them up to the desired pitch of anger, buck tooth laughed and played a trump card, so to speak. in his own way he told a group of the captives that not only had they been caught, to be sent back to mexico there to suffer long imprisonment, but the object for which they had risked so much had been snatched from them. "we have the boy and girl!" boasted buck tooth. this was vehemently denied and then, in a burst of anger, as buck tooth insisted this was so, the yaqui blurted out the truth that paz was endeavoring to conceal. rosemary and floyd had been taken away from the main body by a squad under the leadership of the indian whom rosemary had dubbed "mike." "ugh!" grunted buck tooth. he had found out what he wanted to know. the trick was discovered. chapter xxii anxious hours paz grunted, with characteristic indian indifference when the work of the third degree ceased, as buck tooth, accompanied by the boy ranchers, waddled up and made known what he had found out. "so that's what the beggar did!" exclaimed captain marshall, when he understood. "he split his forces, and sent the young man and girl farther on up into the mountains. well, it means another chase!" "and one not so easy to make," added snake. "why?" asked bud. "well, the trail will be worse, for one thing, and we won't have as many men to help. got to send a guard back with these," and he waved his hand to indicate the yaquis who had been made prisoners. "i'll spare as many of my men as possible," said the captain, "and as soon as i get these imps where they'll be safe for the next few years, i'll have the escort return. they'll want to see this thing through. i'm coming with you." "oh, that's good!" exclaimed nort. it was not that he did not depend on the cowboys from diamond x, but there was something about the troopers that inspired confidence. the cowboys, too, were glad that they would have some regulars with them. "and now let's get this story in proper shape," suggested the captain. "lieutenant snow, you'll get ready to take as many men as you'll need and herd the rascals back over the border, or at least to la nogalique. it may be that the united states marshal there will want to deal with them himself. in case he does that relieves you all the sooner. get in touch with the fort when you have delivered your prisoners, and there may be orders for you." "yes, sir," answered the wounded lieutenant, saluting. he had no thought of quitting though he was painfully hurt. then buck tooth told what his taunts had forced from the captive yaquis, and the whole trick was plain to the experienced cowboys and the troopers. paz, fearing the result of keeping the captives with him, had sent them away when he learned that his pursuers were near. how he learned that fact was one of the mysteries. how the news traveled, in that wild country, where civilized folk were often at pains to get into communication with each other, will probably never be known. but in some manner paz had become aware of the closing in on him of the soldiers and the cowboys and he had tried to forestall their vengeance. but he did not reckon on the wiliness of buck tooth, whose taunts had caused the truth to be blurted out. so, while paz and his renegades were being sent back to pay the penalties for their uprising, captain marshall, with some of his picked men, and the band from diamond x got ready to move forward again. one or two of the cowboys, who had been rather badly hit by bullets, were induced to go back for treatment. an effort made to have bud do the same was met by a flat refusal. "i've got one good hand!" the lad declared, holding up his left, "and i can shoot an automatic with that after somebody loads it for me." "we'll load!" offered nort and dick. so the boy ranchers, like the three guardsmen "all for one and one for all," stuck together. "there's going to be hard work--and danger ahead of us," snake had said, and captain marshall bore him out in this. "that's what we came for," declared nort. "surest thing you know!" assented his brother, and bud nodded his assent. so they moved forward again. this time they were working toward a more certain object than when they were out scouting around to pick up the trail of the yaquis. now they must make their way back to where the party, with rosemary and floyd as prisoners, had separated from the main body. this was comparatively simple as regards tracing the way paz and his followers had descended the mountain into the valley of the plain where the last fight and surrender had taken place. but when the trail of mike and his men was located--then would come the real test. the way grew more rough as they proceeded back along the route taken by the fleeing main body of yaquis. it was an ascending trail, over a path that was possible only to the tough western ponies. fortunately they had an ample supply of provisions and the water supply was adequate, which was a vital necessity. the only hardship in the way of grub was on the horses, the herbage being scanty at times, so that as much speed as was desired could not be made, detours being necessary in order to come upon fodder for the steeds. this caused them to spend more time on the route than they desired and each hour of delay made the boy ranchers more and more apprehensive for the safety of their captured cousins. however it could not be helped. certain precautions must be observed if the band of rescuers was to arrive efficient enough to cope with the yaquis. though not a quarter of the original body was now in charge of rosemary and floyd, they were picked fighters, so buck tooth had learned. and they probably would make a stand in some natural fastness which vantage point would be hard to attack and turn. through two long, hot weary days the march of the rescuers was kept up, and they were all glad when night came that they might camp and be at rest. "but we've struck the branching trail," bud said to his cousins. "all we have to do now is to keep on until we corner the beggars, and get rosemary and floyd away from them." bud had sized up the situation correctly, though it remains to be stated that it was easier said than done. by carefully noting the "sign" along the way, the cowboys and soldiers had reached the place where the selected band had ridden away with their captives. and this was the trail now being followed. there was more than hard work--hard work followed hard work--and there was danger. it had been hard from the very start--from the time the boy ranchers had left after the first wild alarm over the kidnapping of rosemary and floyd. they had been keyed up to high tension all the while, and this, in itself, if you have ever experienced it, is wearing. there had been absolutely no time for light enjoyment--none of the humor of the cowboys had a chance to manifest itself. aside from an occasional burst into song the way had been grim and weary. there was nothing to lighten it, for over all hung the apprehension that something dreadful would befall rosemary and her brother. and that dread was still present. even at the very end of the trail it might be found that all their efforts had been in vain, and that the yaquis, driven into a panic of fear, had ended the lives of their captives. so there was this nerve-racking pall of gloom hanging over all, and to this was added the hard physical work of keeping to a difficult trail, with danger besetting on every hand. that there was danger, not the most optimistic of them would have denied. there was danger in urging one's horse up a narrow path overhanging some gorge. there was danger that some lurking yaqui, unable to keep up with the main body of mike's men, might send a bullet into the back of one of the rescuers. or mike could have posted a party in ambush at any one of a dozen places along the trail, there to surprise and kill off a number of the vengeful whites following him. all this made it exceedingly hard for the boy ranchers and their friends, but they were never daunted. on they urged their weary ponies, and the trail was as hard on horseflesh as it was on man and youth. still no one complained. even bud bore without remark the pain of his wounded hand, and it was a most painful injury. however captain marshall had no small skill with what primitive remedies they had with them, and he saved bud from the necessity of a surgical operation later, as the wound was kept clean, so that it healed from within. though once, when it had grown shut, with the possible danger of pus forming within, and had to be opened, poor bud saw everything getting black before his eyes. and it was only by gritting his teeth, and remembering how, it was said, indians bit bullets in twain in the excess of their agony before uttering a groan, that the lad prevented himself from fainting under the captain's ministrations. so night settled down on the second day of their rush forward on the trail of mike and those he held captive. "you get to bed and take it easy," nort said to bud, when the latter talked of standing guard, after camp had been made. "that's right," agreed dick. "there's enough of us without you." "but i don't want to be a quitter!" bud said. "and we're so close to mike and his gang now--or we ought to be--that there may be an attack any hour." "the yaquis won't attack at night," declared rolling stone. "they're too lazy!" this, indeed, is characteristic of many indian tribes, though perhaps the real reason may be based on superstition instead of objection to exertion. however, bud allowed himself to be pursuaded to take his ease rolled up in his blankets. there were no tents, and, in fact, none were really needed, for though the nights were cooler than the days, a blanket and a fire made every man comfortable. so night settled down, the stars came out, the cooling wind blew the smoke of the camp fire here and there and the posted sentries walked their beats, waiting for what might happen. that they were near to the hiding place of mike, and, it was hoped, of the captives too, could not be doubted. the trail had become more fresh with every mile traversed. "he's gone into some cave to hold off as long as possible," was the opinion of captain marshall. nort and dick had adjoining posts. they had been selected for the first four hours of duty, from to o'clock, and it was near that last hour when nort, coming back from having reached the end of his beat, called softly to his brother. "did you hear anything?" asked nort. "what do you mean?" asked dick in turn. "well, like some one walking. listen!" chapter xxiii the last stand the boy ranchers--only two of them now, for bud was taking a much-needed rest, stood silent in the darkness, on one edge of the camp. they listened "with all their ears," for they were, if not exactly in the enemy's territory, at least within striking distance of the yaquis, and every precaution must be taken. so when nort whispered to dick that a suspicious noise had been heard, dick was only too ready to believe it. "where did you hear it?" dick asked in a cautious voice when, after several seconds of intent listening, neither had caught a sound. "off there," replied nort rather vaguely, pointing to the darkness ahead of them--a darkness where the rays of several camp fires did not penetrate, and which the starlight did not seem to pierce. "i don't hear anything," went on dick. "maybe it was only the wind. we don't want to give an alarm and--" "hark!" interrupted his brother in a low but tense voice. clearly then, to the ears of both, came the unmistakable sound of someone or something approaching. there was the crunching of gravel, and the noise of some hard substance moving on a rock. "it's the yaquis!" whispered nort, as he brought his rifle to bear on the blackness in front of him. "they're creeping up to make an attack!" dick also got his gun in readiness for instant action, and the boys were just about to fire when a noise, best described as "unearthly," smote their ears. it was a long drawn out cry, weird and blood-curdling. that it was the warwhoop of the yaquis both boys were beginning to believe, in spite of knowing that these mexicans seldom if ever used such romantic if terrible means of terrifying their enemies. i say the boys were on the verge of accepting the noise as that, when its character suddenly changed, and the stillness of the night was fairly shattered by a loud: "hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!" the reaction was so great that nort and dick nearly dropped their guns, and they turned to look one at the other with sheepish grins that would have been visible had the light been stronger. and then, with one voice the brothers exclaimed: "maud!" it was one of the army transport mules, an animal that helped carry the camp baggage! she had strayed. again rose the cry, not so weird now that its nature was known. "hee-haw! hee-haw!" and from the camp came a disgusted complaint from some sleepy trooper as he shouted: "the chump who tied that mule so he could wander ought to be made to go get him!" there was laughter at this, for many had been awakened by the braying of the animal. and then one of the men in charge of the animals came out and managed to corral the wanderer. "gosh! i'm glad we didn't shoot!" exclaimed nort, as their tour of duty ended and their relief came. "same here!" added his brother. "how they would have laughed at us if we had plugged old maud!" this was the only disturbing incident of the night, the remainder of which passed quietly. with the first streak of dawn the troopers were up, as were the cowboys, for rolling stone had said, and buck tooth agreed with him, that if the yaquis did attack it would be at dawn, since they seldom fought after nightfall. but no attack came, and breakfast was served, with sentries on the watch to guard against surprise. some steaming hot coffee, crisp bacon the odor of which was an aroma in the morning air, flapjacks and sour dough bread for those who wanted it, made the meal, which well fortified those who partook of it for the day's events, which were destined to be strenuous. once again the order was: "forward--march!" again they were on the trail of the yaquis. as they advanced the "sign" became more pronounced that the band had passed that way. whether they had the captives with them could, of course, only be guessed at. but the trail had been carefully scanned, and there was no evidence that rosemary and floyd had been put out of the way. as far as could be told the captives were still the prisoners of the indians. and there were no marks to show that any smaller body had branched off from this band of yaquis that had the unfortunate youth and maiden in charge. so it was with the hope of finding their cousins safe, though perhaps in dire distress, that the boy ranchers pressed on with their friends the troopers and the cowboys. as the trail became more pronounced, greater precautions were taken against a surprise. and a surprise in the rocky defiles through which they were passing would have been well nigh fatal. so scouts were constantly in the lead, ready at the first suspicious sign to send back word to the main body to be on the alert. the morning passed without incident, save for one or two false alarms, and there was a sigh of relief when the midday meal was served without interruption in the shape of hostile bullets. then, after a brief rest for the horses, the march was again taken up. "i wonder when we'll find them?" asked nort. "it's been quite a while now," added dick. "poor rosemary," sighed bud, trying to find an easy position for his wounded hand. "she must have had a tough time." "yet she had a lot of grit to send that message the way she did," commented nort. "yes, only for that we wouldn't have known about it for a long time--maybe too late," agreed bud. it was but a few minutes after this talk that, suddenly, a shot rang out well up ahead. instantly every nerve tingled for it might mean the beginning of the last fight. the shot was almost at once followed by others, and then a scout came clattering back. "we've found 'em!" he cried. "and it's going to be a dickens of a fight! they're in a regular fort!" the firing in front became more brisk. clearly all the van guard was now engaged, and quick orders were issued to send up a squad or two of the troopers, while the main body prepared for what they hoped would be the last battle. captain marshall rapidly questioned the messenger who had come back. the man told how he and his companions had been riding along when they were suddenly fired upon. the shot came from a ledge at one side of the defile through which the trail ran, and they had a glimpse of a yaqui warrior shaking his fist at them in defiance as he disappeared amid the rocks after delivering his warning shot. then the shooting between the outposts of the indians and the advance guard of the rescue party became general as the scout rode back to report. captain marshall hurried to the front with his first band of fighters, the cowboys and our youthful heroes being bidden to remain where they were until the officer had made an observation. in a little while captain marshall came back. "it will be their last stand!" he exclaimed. "how so?" asked snake. "well, they're there with their backs to the wall. they can't get out at the rear and we're here in front to stop them if they come this way. it will be a fight to a finish!" and as the boy ranchers wondered at the fate of rosemary and floyd there came from the front a burst of firing. chapter xxiv the ruse of rosemary well it was that a body of fighters with the experience of the united states troopers and the cowboys from diamond x ranch went up against the yaquis, and not some brave but rash band of rescuers. the latter would have been defeated almost at once for the indians had picked out an admirable place in which to make their last stand. they had retreated into the mountains, along a trail that only the most hardy could follow. then, finding, as they doubtless did, that their pursuers were ever at their heels, they hastened to what was, virtually, a natural fortress--a nook among the rocky walls of the defile. from there they shot at the approaching troopers and cowboys. "no useless risks!" ordered captain marshall, as he and his men came up to the attack. the yaquis had several distinct advantages in their favor. they were up above the rescuers and could fire down on them, while the boy ranchers and their friends had not only to fight but to climb up, and the latter was a handicap. then the indians had what was almost like a rocky fort to protect them, while those making the attack had to approach pretty much in the open. of course there were rocks that could be used as cover, but these were so scattered that it prevented the approach of the men in a body. individuals could creep from rock to rock, and so advance, but there could be no concerted rush against the yaquis, and that was what was needed to overcome them. however the fight was only in its early stages yet, and, like a football game, one could not tell what would happen until the final whistle was blown. captain marshall was a veteran fighter and could be depended on. his men realized this, and so did the outfit from diamond x. there was nothing very spectacular about this fight. little of it could have been seen by an observer, if you except the spurts of smoke from unseen guns and the echoes caused by the shots. for each man, on both sides, was firing from cover. the yaquis had the advantage that their cover--a big wall of rock--sheltered many of them in an almost straight line, and they could fire in volleys on signal, while the soldiers and cowboys had to fire individually and at odd times, as they made their way from one sheltering stone to another. thus the yaquis could concentrate their fire on one man if they had a glimpse of some incautiously exposed arm or leg, while no one soldier could hope to inflict much damage on a crowd of indians behind a thick stone wall. but the fight was not so unequal as seemed at first sight. for while the yaquis were strongly entrenched, they were outnumbered--of that there was little doubt. and they were fighting picked men, who had been in many dangerous skirmishes and fights, whereas the indians were at best but a sort of brigand bushwhackers. each side was desperate, perhaps the indians more so, for they must have realized that they would be given short shrift if any harm now came to rosemary and floyd. the soldiers and cowboys would not hesitate to take swift and sure vengeance. so the indians must fight to the bitter end, selling their lives as dearly as possible. "i just wonder if rosemary and floyd are up in that nest of beggars?" mused bud, as he and his cousins were at last allowed to proceed up the defile, toward where the yaquis were making their last stand. bud had begged so hard to be allowed to go to the front, to at least help his cousins load their weapons if nothing else, that permission had been granted. the boy ranchers were close together now, each sheltered behind a rock, and almost in line with the foremost of the attackers who were under the shadow of the natural fort, behind the wall of which the yaquis were making their last stand. "i hope they are up there," said nort, answering bud's question. "if they brought them this far they probably wouldn't do away with them now. they must be up there!" "i wish we had them down here," said dick. "it's going to be hard work to get the imps out of their den!" "you supplied two good earfuls that time, kid!" said rolling stone. "ah, you will, will you!" he added quickly, and he fired at an exposed head over the top of the wall that hid the indians. there was a howl of pain mingled with rage, that could be heard above the din of the fighting. "you nipped him!" cried yellin' kid. "i tried to," grimly said rolling stone. and so the fighting went on, in pot-shot fashion, with occasional volleys from the yaquis. "they're only wasting their lead," spoke captain marshall. "but i wonder where they got so many cartridges?" "likely they made another raid," suggested snake. this, later, was found to be the case. a store keeper had been killed and his stock looted, provisions and arms being taken. if the boy ranchers and their friends could have looked behind the natural wall of rock, which constituted the fort that proved to be the last stand of the yaquis, and if they could have looked farther, into a big cave, the mouth of which was concealed from a view below by this same wall, their questions as to rosemary and floyd would have been answered. for the captives were there. weary, apprehensive, tired and fairly ill from their hardships, rosemary and her brother had been thrust into the cavern when the yaquis reached this vantage place, knowing their pursuers were close behind them. "something's up!" floyd had said as they were rudely hustled into the hiding place. "i hope it's the end," said rosemary dismally. poor girl! she was about done up, and she no longer had her weapon as a means of defence. by a ruse it had been taken from her, though she and floyd fought desperately to retain it. but mike, as one of his men snatched it away, only laughed at them. "the end! what do you mean?" asked floyd. "i mean i think this will be the last fight. you can tell by the way they thrust us in here, and hurried out with their guns, that something unusual is taking place. i believe our rescuers are coming!" "that's what we thought when they sent us off in charge of mike and the smaller gang," observed floyd. "yes, but this is different!" declared rosemary. "they can't get out of this place in a hurry, and once our friends, whether soldiers or cowboys from uncle henry's ranch, get this far, they'll never give up until they break through the indians." "if they only do!" murmured floyd. he was cut and bruised from a fight he had with two of the yaquis, when he endeavored to go to the aid of his sister, as her weapon was wrested from her. floyd's left arm was badly wrenched, so he could hardly use it. and then, after the hurried thrusting into the cave of the captives, had come the first shots of the soldier scouts in response to the fire of the yaqui sentry. "they're here!" cried floyd, when it became very evident that an attack in force was going on. "oh! i'm glad!" exclaimed rosemary, and tears of relief came to sooth her ragged nerves. they went as close as they dared to the mouth of the cave to look at the backs of the yaquis who were lined up along the wall firing down on the soldiers and cowboys. no guard was stationed at the entrance to the cavern--none was needed. the rear was a wall of solid rock, as rosemary and her brother had discovered soon after being rushed into it. in front of the entrance was a rocky platform, and extending along the outer edge of this, in the form of a semicircle, was the defending wall of stone. this rocky wall dropped abruptly down into the defile where the cowboys and soldiers were making the attack. it would be almost impossible to descend it. the way up was by a narrow passage which was now choked by rocks the indians had piled there. on either side of the cavern's entrance the rock rose in steep slopes, not altogether impossible of being scaled, but a hindrance to a quick retreat. that is what captain marshall meant when he said the yaquis were practically backed up against a stone wall. the firing became sharper and quicker and the reports of the guns of the attackers sounded nearer. they were, in fact, creeping up, taking advantage of every bit of cover. there were casualties on both sides, dick being put out of the game by a bullet through his right arm. fortunately it only entered the flesh, breaking no bones. but he was ordered to the rear, much to his disgust. nort and bud still stuck, bud helping nort in loading. perhaps the situation was hardest on rosemary and floyd, for they were obliged to remain in the cave, doing nothing, and fearing the worst. if the indians succeeded in standing off the rescuers, or in killing so many of them that the survivors would not dare rush the place, what would it mean to the captives? rosemary dared not think of it. then, following a period of unusually heavy firing, the plucky girl made up her mind to act. "floyd!" she exclaimed, "i'm desperate! i'm going to do something! "not--you're not going to--" floyd stumbled over expressing the fear that she was going to rush out and throw herself over the rocky wall. "it's just a chance," went on rosemary, "but i'm going to take it. a desperate chance!" "but what, rosemary?" "i'm going to play a trick on these indians! i think i can do it!" "a trick?" "yes. as soon as the next period of heavy firing quiets down i'm going to rush out, yelling, and point back to the cave. i want you to do the same." "but what good will it do?" "it will give the indians the impression that our friends--or some one--has managed to get up the rocks, and that they are coming from the rear. there may be an entrance into that cave from the back. i don't know, and i don't believe these indians do. anyhow if we rush out, all excited, yelling as hard as we can, and pointing to the cave back of us, i think the yaquis will take the alarm and become so confused that our friends, whoever they are out there, will be able to rush this position." as yet, you must understand, rosemary and her brother were unaware of the identity of the attackers. rosemary started up from where she was sitting in their extemporized and miserable prison cave. it was evidently her intention to put into operation at once her desperate plan. "wait a minute!" exclaimed her brother. "what for?" she questioned. "i'm not so sure that it is the best thing to do," he answered. floyd was rather less impulsive than his sister--that is on occasions. there were times when he could be more hot headed. "well, what else is there to do?" rosemary asked. she was going to be perfectly fair about it, and if floyd had anything better to offer as a suggestion she would listen to him. "let's think about it a bit longer," he finally said, with a long intaking of breath, which told more plainly than words, how the situation was oppressing him. "i'm sure it's mighty plucky of you, rosemary, to lay out such a plan as this, but i don't believe i ought to let you try it. something might happen." "something is going to happen anyhow," she said, with ominous quiet, and a grim tightness showed in the lines of her mouth. "i believe these indians have just about reached the end of their rope. they have been very patient with us--that is patient from their standpoint. now they have met with opposition, and they must know if they are overpowered it will be to our advantage, and that our friends, or whoever is out there firing, will take revenge." "that's so," agreed floyd. "well then, we've just _got_ to do something!" said rosemary, desperately. "and i'm going to do it." again she started up. "wait a minute!" exclaimed her brother again. he seemed to be listening. he leaned forward, and then softly arose from where he was sitting and went forward. "what is it?" asked his sister in a low voice. "i thought i heard voices--good old united states voices, and not this jargon of mexican and spanish," was the reply. "maybe some of the attackers, whoever they are, have broken through." a look of delighted joy came over the face of rosemary. but a moment later it faded away and she seemed hopeless. "it can't be," she said. "there'd be a lot of yelling and shouting if any of those who are attacking the yaquis had broken through their lines," she went on. "there's no use waiting, floyd. let's try my plan!" but her brother was not yet convinced. "it will be all right if it works," he agreed. "but if it fails, and they only have the laugh on us, we'll be treated so much the worse. i don't mind on my own account--but yours!" and he glanced at his sister. "i hadn't thought of that," spoke rosemary in a low voice. "if it should--fail--why--" she did not complete the sentence. "it would only make them more angry, i'm afraid," went on floyd. there was silence, for a time, between brother and sister. it was broken only by occasional and distant shouts, punctuated, now and again, by a shot. but the heavy fusillade had subsided for a time. "well?" questioned rosemary. she was eager to get some action. "this is what i'll do," said floyd, after some tense consideration, "i'll take a look around and see how matters shape up." "then what?" asked rosemary. she was evidently not going to let the matter go by default. "well, then if i can't see anything better to do then what you proposed, we'll go to it!" decided floyd. "you sit here and i'll scurry around. i won't be long." "no, please don't," begged rosemary. "if we're going to do anything we'll have to do it very soon. this can't last--much longer!" floyd did not stop to ask his sister just what she meant. in fact he did not dare question her as to what it was that could not last "much longer." he had a desperate fear that it was rosemary's own spirit that was on the point of breaking. up to now she had kept up her courage remarkably well. but there was a limit, and if the breaking point had been reached floyd did not know what would follow. he shot a quick look at the girl before he started out on what he thought might be a last desperate venture. he felt that he might discover something to do--some way of escape--that would not make it necessary for his sister to virtually rush into danger. and he was relieved when he saw the calm and cool look that was on rosemary's face. "she isn't going to give up!" decided floyd. there was an exultant feeling in his heart. during this talk between brother and sister the dirty indian detailed to guard the captives had sauntered within view of them every now and then. to quiet his suspicions, in case he should have any, rosemary and floyd had spoken most casually on these occasions. the lad waited until the guard had come on one of his periodic trips of inspection and had dropped out of sight on a ledge of rock, and then floyd started out. "don't be too long!" called rosemary in a low voice. "i won't!" he promised. walking as aimlessly as he could pretend, floyd started toward a break in the natural wall that ran in front of the prison cavern. he wanted to see if he could catch a glimpse of the yaquis below him. "and i'd give a whole lot of money--if i had it--to see who is fighting them," thought floyd. "but i haven't much left." he glanced ruefully down at his now soiled and torn garments. and as he thrust his hands into his pockets he missed many a trinket and possession. for nearly everything had been taken away by paz, mike or some of their rascally followers. two or three indians, some of them wounded, were coming back "from the front," so to speak. one of them glanced scowlingly at floyd, as he passed the lad, evidently associating his wounds with the presence of the prisoner. "i'd give you a whole lot worse than that if i had a chance--ugly face!" thought floyd. another member of the renegade band grinned or--floyd took it for a grin--as he passed. but none of them seemed to care where the lad went or what he did, and for this floyd was glad. "i seem to be getting somewhere," he murmured. "whether i can hit on any scheme to beat rosemary's is a question, but i don't want her to take the risk unless there's nothing else to do." he had now reached a low spot in the natural rocky wall. he felt that if he could once get a glimpse at this point he might see something that would help him and rosemary. and to his great delight, when he had sauntered, as casually as he could make it, to an observation point, what he saw made him gasp for breath. for, grouped closely together, below him, on a sort of big table of rock, were a number of the yaquis. they appeared to be holding a sort of council or parley, and were gathered about an indian to whom mike and paz often delegated certain duties. but this was not what caused the heart of floyd to thump so desperately against his ribs, making such a noise, he wildly feared, that the pounding would be heard by some passing indian. what caused him fairly to gasp for breath was the sight of a great boulder, poised on the edge of the natural wall, and hanging almost directly over the group of talking indians. "if i can push that rock down on them it will do the trick!" thought floyd. "it'll put some of 'em out of business, and the rest will be so frightened that they'll retreat. then whoever is out there trying to break through to help us, will have matters their own way. that's what i'll do. ill pry that rock loose and let it dash 'em on the heads." it was a horrible thing to think of, much more horrible to do, but the situation of rosemary and floyd was desperate indeed. the end seemed to justify the means. "the point is," mused floyd, "can i shove that rock down?" looking about him he saw that he was not observed. he quickly made his way nearer to the rock, and then, reaching out his hands, he pushed. gently at first he exerted the pressure, and then putting more power into the shove he thrust with all his might. "it's giving! it's giving!" thought floyd, with a desperate catch of his breath. "i can shove it down on 'em and dash 'em all up!" he exerted all his strength. the rock was moving, and even with all the villainies the indians had to their discredit floyd's nerve almost failed him as he saw the great boulder sway as if for the plunge. but to his chagrin he felt the rock move back toward him again. he tried to hold it away--to thrust it from him--but nature, in the guise of the attraction of gravitation--pulled the rock back into the socket-shaped bed where it had rested so long. it rolled back with a grinding sound, and floyd feared, for a moment that he had loosened it so that it would topple back and fall upon his feet. but this did not happen. the great half-round stone oscillated to and fro and then came to rest. floyd had only caused it to sway a little. "well, i moved it!" he said with a gasp. "i'll try again. if i can only get it started it will do the trick." again he pushed, with all his might, but again the same thing happened. he managed to make the rock sway outward, a little farther over the edge of the wall, but back it came again into its hollow resting place. then floyd understood the nature of the matter. "it's a balanced rock," he said to himself. "she's been resting here for ages, and you can move it just so far but no farther. it would take a team of army mules to dislodge it." he looked over the wall again. the indians were still in the same place, eagerly talking--a score or more of feet below the boy. "it's too good a chance to miss!" whispered floyd desperately. "i wonder if i can't find some sort of a lever and pry it loose." he looked about him. not far away was part of a dead tree branch, thick as his arm. "just what i need!" he exclaimed. he ran to pick up the branch and, returning with it, set one end under the balanced rock, that was still swaying slightly from his exertions. "now for a last try!" murmured the lad. he bent his weight on the long end of the improvised lever. the rock seemed to rise from its socket bed, and to sway outward. there was an exultation in the boy's heart. he thought, in another instant, that he could send the great stone crashing down into the midst of the yaquis. then, suddenly there came a sharp report, and floyd felt himself falling. his first feeling was that he had been shot and that this was the end. but he felt no pain, save a sudden bump as he sprawled on the rocks, and then he realized what had happened. he had pressed so heavily on the old and dried piece of wood that it had snapped and broken with a report like that of a pistol, and he had dropped. "too bad!" murmured floyd. as he picked himself up he saw two of the yaqui indians running around a rocky corner. they had evidently been drawn to the place by the sound. "no good letting them know what i tried to do," quickly decided floyd. "it would only make it worse for us." having decided on a line of action it did not take the lad an instant to carry it out. quickly he picked up the broken pieces of his lever and started back with them toward the cave where he and his sister were held captives. "make fire!" he said to the indians. "make fire--cook grub!" "ugh!" they grunted. they evidently accepted this obvious explanation. their suspicions lulled, they turned and went back the way they had come, pausing long enough, however, to watch floyd enter the cave where rosemary waited. "well," she questioned, as he threw the broken ends of his lever on the rocky floor. "no go," answered floyd despondently. "i had a peach of a chance to play a trump hand on them, but luck was against me." he told what he had tried to do with the rock. "oh? i--i'm almost glad it didn't succeed!" said rosemary with a shudder. "it would have been--terrible!" "nothing is too bad for these devils!" cried floyd. "but i give up. i can't think of anything more to do." "then shall i try my way?" asked his sister. "it is a desperate chance," floyd murmured. "but don't you think we ought to try it? we may be able to reach the wall, and get over, or go down the trail we came up. it was too steep for the horses, but maybe we can make it." the horses had been abandoned by the yaquis as they entrenched themselves for this last stand. the animals could not make the ascent. "well?" asked rosemary of her brother. "i'm with you!" he said, with a sharp intaking of his breath. then they got ready for the ruse rosemary had proposed. chapter xxv "all's well!" what was taking place down below, rosemary and floyd could only guess at. but that the rescuers were taking advantage of everything possible was evident from the occasional hits they made among the yaquis. more than one was killed and several wounded as they fired over the top of the wall, or through loopholes amid the rocks. then, soon after the determination at which rosemary had arrived, there came a more violent fusillade than any that had preceded. in this several indians were forced to retire because of serious wounds. then the firing died away. though the captive lad and his sister did not know it, this sudden cessation in the firing of the attackers was due to an order of the commander of the troopers. the captain was, also, nominally in command of the boy ranchers and their friends. "there is too much indiscriminate firing," decided captain marshall. "we haven't an unlimited supply of ammunition. we've got to go a bit slow. no telling how long we may have to camp on the trail of these imps." it was a wise determination as they all agreed, and the word went up and down the line of attackers to be sparing of powder and lead. this is what caused the troopers and cowboys suddenly to cease firing, following a desperate fusillade which they hoped would turn the tide of battle in their favor, but it had not done so. "we must size the situation up," decided the captain. "find out just how many more rounds we have left--counting also the supply of our friends from diamond x," he ordered an officer. and the taking stock of the situation was soon under way. that the yaquis were as glad of the respite, as were our friends, need not be doubted. advantage was taken of the lull to look after the wounded, and to bring water to the fighting men, for they were sorely in need of drinks. and warm as the water was, it seemed the best that had ever trickled down their throats. back in their prison, rosemary and floyd noted the sudden silence that followed the brisk firing. brother and sister looked at each other, and there was fear in their faces. "do you suppose that means they have quit?" asked the girl. "who?" her brother wanted to know. "the ones who are out there trying to help us--cowboys from our uncle's ranch, i hope." "i hope so, too, and i hope they haven't had to quit," spoke floyd. "but we've got to go on with what we planned now. i'm for it as much as you are, rosemary. something has to be done! are you sure you won't weaken at the last minute, and cave in?" "did you ever know me to do a thing like that?" she asked with flashing eyes. "no, i never did." "well, i'm not going to start now! don't worry, floyd. somehow i feel sure that this will pull us through! i thought of it in the night--perhaps i dreamed it--and i have a feeling that it is going to work out all right. don't be afraid. let's try it with all our might! are you ready?" "as ready as i ever shall be," was the grim answer. "but if you're playing a 'hunch,' so to speak, that's different. you always were lucky!" he laughed grimly, and rosemary joined in. it was the first time they had laughed since being taken captives. as her brother had said, rosemary was "lucky." for a moment brother and sister looked about them. they must act soon, and, after all, the consequences could not be much worse than those which continually were hanging over them. "whenever you're ready--give the word!" whispered floyd. "now!" suddenly called rosemary to her brother. "come on!" he echoed. together they rushed from the cave, straight toward the band of indians lined up, with their backs toward them, along the wall of the improvised fort. what rosemary said she never really knew. it was a burst of wild, hysterical yelling, such as girls and women alone are capable of. and as she screamed and ran she pointed back toward the cave. as for floyd he declared that what he yelled was something like: "they're coming! they're coming! they're attacking in the rear!" to this he added some improvised warwhoops of his own devising, and some football yells, for he had been a cheer leader at one time for his college team. whatever was said little mattered. it was the character of the shouting of the desperate youth and maiden, and their actions that counted. coming as rosemary's ruse did, after the hardest firing yet on the part of the attackers, it rather got on the nerves of the yaquis if they had such organs, which is doubtful. to every one of them it appeared, as rosemary and floyd intended it should, that an attack from the rear was about to take place. as rosemary had guessed, the indians knew no more about the cave than she did. they had hastily examined it and decided there was no rear entrance or exit, as the case might be. but they might have overlooked some hidden passage, and this is what all of them evidently thought had been done. at any rate, as rosemary and floyd rushed out, yelling almost like indians themselves, a panic started among the yaquis. they saw themselves caught between two fires, with no retreat possible. with whoops of despair some threw themselves over the cliff. others rushed into the cave, while some climbed up the rocky walls at either side. a few remained, firing down at the attackers below. rosemary's yells, and those of her brother, carried to the soldiers and cowboys. at first they thought a sally was about to take place. but when they saw some indians come over the wall, one luckless imp slipping and falling to his death, some idea of what was taking place became manifest to captain marshall. "they're in a panic!" he cried. "something has frightened 'em! come on, men!" he led a rush forward, just as rosemary appeared at the top of the wall, waving her neck handkerchief in a frenzied signal. "there she is! rosemary!" cried bud, not exactly recognizing his cousin, but guessing the girl could be none other. the rush of the attackers, together with the panic that had run through the ranks of the indians like wildfire, was all that was needed to turn the scale. the yaquis, with howls of fear, not knowing what it was all about, threw down their guns and sought for means of escape. mike, the leader, seemed dazed at the suddenness of it all. but he gathered his wits together and, seeing rosemary at the wall, waving to the soldiers and cowboys below, the desperate yaquis sprang toward her. but floyd was watching his sister. the lad picked up a revolver from where it had fallen as its owner retreated and fired point blank at mike. the ruffian crumpled up and went down in a heap, as rosemary herself, unable to stand the strain longer, sank down half fainting. her ruse had succeeded. the yaquis were on the run. a few minutes later the place was filled with soldiers and cowboys who made prisoners of such of the renegades as were left alive--and these were not many, though they included mike, who had only been wounded by floyd. "oh, bud! i'm so glad! so glad!" murmured rosemary, as her cousin put his arm around her--only one arm for the other was still sore. "so'm i!" murmured bud. "this is another cousin--nort," and he nodded toward his boy rancher companion. "and there's a third one down there--dick--but he's hurt!" "badly?" "oh, no, just a piece of lead through his arm. he'll be all right in a few days. but say, rosemary, what did you and floyd do to turn the tables so quickly?" "rosemary did it all," floyd said with a cheerful grin. "it was just a bluff!" and he told the story. "nerviest thing i ever heard of!" complimented captain marshall. "heap good squaw!" was buck tooth's opinion, and that seemed to sum it all up. the prisoners secured, the dead on both sides buried and the story of the capture and rescue briefly told, arrangements were made for returning to civilization. the raid of the yaquis was over, and so severe was the lesson taught them that it was many years before another trick like that was tried. rosemary and floyd, though they had suffered many hardships, were not physically harmed, except for the youth's wrenched arm, which was painful but not dangerous. "oh, but we want some water to wash in!" rosemary confided to bud. "they've kept us so much on the go, ever since they captured us, that i can't bear to think of it. i just _dreamed_ of clean bath tubs filled with white soap suds!" "we'll soon be at the ranch," bud said. "oh, but i can't wait until then." "same here!" put in floyd. "i don't believe a yaqui touches water from the time he's born until he dies." in order to give everyone a chance to rest, it was decided to camp for a few days in a favorable spot, which was found a few miles from where the indians had made their last stand--a final stand for many, as more than a dozen were killed. the others were sent back under guard as prisoners, mike among them, scowling blackly as he was led away. a scout was sent to the nearest place where there was a telegraph station, to send the good news back to diamond x. "and now we can take it easy," observed bud as he with his cowboy cousins and the newly rescued captives enjoyed the first real meal without anticipations of a fight immediately after it. "you must have had a dreadful time, rosemary," said dick, whose arm was in a sling. "well, it seemed so at the time, and yet i want to laugh when i think how i fooled those indians just by screaming." "it isn't the first time you've brought help by screaming!" laughed bud. "i remember once when i tried to kiss you--" "tut! tut!" laughed rosemary. "that's past history." and so, in time, was the raid of the yaquis. in due season rosemary and her brother, with our boy heroes reached diamond x, parting from the soldier escort. and once at the ranch, which had been their objective before the kidnapping, the visitors were royally entertained. "well, it was the best adventure we ever had," declared nort, and his brother agreed with him. but it was not to be the last of the exciting happenings in which they were to be involved. for these were lads of action, ever in the van when there was a chance for a fight. and those who wish to follow the further adventures of bud, nort and dick, may do so in the next volume of this series, which will be entitled "the boy ranchers in the flood; or saving the stock at diamond x." in that we shall see how they fared when again called on to act their parts in the face of danger. but, for the present we shall leave them to enjoy the company of rosemary and floyd at diamond x and in happy valley. the end [illustration: "but ain't yuh meanin' tuh pay me anything fo' shootin' up my pets thisaway?" harkness demanded.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ boy scouts on the open plains or the round-up not ordered by g. harvey ralphson author of boy scouts in the canal zone boy scouts in the northwest boy scouts in a motor boat boy scouts in a submarine [illustration] chicago m. a. donohue & company ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright by m. a. donohue & co. chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i. over the edge ii. lucky jimmy iii. the helping hand iv. picking up points v. around the camp fire vi. the wolf pack vii. everybody busy viii. an unwelcome guest ix. the homing pigeon x. at double cross ranch xi. the sheep and the goats xii. nipping a mutiny xiii. at washout coulie xiv. stampeding the prize bunch xv. jimmy's unwilling ride xvi. after the rustlers' raid xvii. the shrewd old fox xviii. more trouble ahead xix. at bay in the canyon xx. smoked out xxi. in the hands of the rustlers xxii. coming of the real boss--conclusion ------------------------------------------------------------------------ boy scouts on the open plains chapter i. over the edge. "'tis meself that calls this pretty tough mountain climbin', and me athinkin' all the while the road to uncle job's cattle ranch would take us along the bully open plain all the way!" "hold your horses, jimmy; we've got to about the end of this hill climbing. after we cross this divide it's going to be the kind of travel you mention, all on the level. one more town to pass through, and then we strike out for the ranch. any minute now we ought to glimpse the low country through this canyon that we've been following over the ridge." "there it is right now, ned, and let me tell you i'm glad myself that this hard work is nearly over with. whew! did you ever see a prettier picture than this is, with the whole country spread out like a big map?" "and that's where we aim to spend some little time, is it, boys?" asked a third one of the four boys who, leading a loaded pack burro apiece, had been climbing a range of rocky mountains away down in a corner of nevada not a great distance from the arizona border. "yes, that's going to be our stamping ground, jack, for some little time to come. my uncle job haines has his ranch away over there somewhere or other, in the hazy distance. his partner, another uncle of mine, james henshaw, is with him in the business--you know my mother was married twice, and this last gentleman is the brother of her first husband, which is how i come to have so many uncles. what d'ye say to resting up a bit here before we start down the grade, ned?" the way three of them turned toward the other young fellow was evidence enough in itself to show that he must be the leader of the little company, which was in fact the truth. all of the mountain climbers were wearing rather faded but serviceable khaki suits, which with the leggins and campaign hats proved that they must belong to some troop of boy scouts. but it was many days' journey from their present surroundings to the scene of their home activities, for they belonged in new york city. those of our young readers who have had the pleasure and privilege of possessing one or more of the previous volumes connected with this series of stories will readily recognize the four lads as old and valued acquaintances. for the sake of the few who may not have enjoyed meeting the lively quartette before, a few sentences of introduction may be necessary before going on further. and while they are resting both themselves and their pack animals, at the same time drinking in the magnificent scenery that was spread out before them, looking toward the southeast, it would seem to be a fitting opportunity for this service. the leader of the little party was ned nestor, who also served as assistant scout master of the troop, having duly qualified for the office according to the rules of the organization. he was a good hunter and tracker, and possessed a wide knowledge of woodcraft in its best sense. some time previous to this ned had been given various chances to work for the secret service of the government at washington, and had conducted himself in such a manner as to win the confidence of the authorities. they realized that there were many opportunities when a bright lad might accomplish things unsuspected where a man would be apt to slip up. and judging from the success which had on most occasions followed ned's taking up a case, it appeared as though this might have been a wise move. one of the other boys, a short chap with red hair and a freckled face, often acted as ned's assistant in these dangerous adventures. his name was jimmy mcgraw, and at one time he had been a regular tough little bowery boy in new york, until he happened to meet ned under strange conditions, and was virtually adopted by the other's father, so that he now made his home with the nestors. jimmy could not entirely shake off some of the old habits; and this accounted for his making use of a little slang now and then, when trying to express himself forcibly. the third lad was named jack bosworth. jack was a splendid chum, faithful as the needle can be to the pole, and as brave as he was robust. his father being a rich corporation lawyer and capitalist, the boy had been allowed to do pretty much as he chose. fortunately jack was a true scout in every sense of the word, and could be depended upon to keep out of mischief. he believed ned nestor to be the finest patrol leader that ever wore the khaki and was ready to follow his lead, no matter where it took him. harry stevens, the fourth and last of the quartette, was inclined to be a student rather than a lover of the trail and hunters' camp. his hobby seemed to lie along the study of wild animals' habits, and also the history of the ancient indian tribes that, centuries back, were known to have inhabited the southwestern portion of our country. he had kept harping all the while upon the subject of the strange zunis, the hopis, and the moquis, all of whom he knew had descended from the original cliff-dwellers. and he hoped before going back home again to find a chance to investigate some of their quaint rock dwellings high up in the cliffs bordering the wonderful colorado canyon. harry was really on his way to the ranch of his uncles. not being in any hurry he and his chums had first visited san francisco, and then los angeles. while here they somehow conceived the rather singular idea of crossing the desert afoot, in order to have new experiences, and be able to say that they knew what it was to find themselves alone on a sandy tract that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. what remarkable adventures had come their way while carrying out this scheme have already been set down in the pages of the volume just preceding this book, under the title of "boy scouts in death valley," so there would be no need of our repeating any of the exciting episodes here. they had purchased the four burros from a discouraged party of men who were prospecting for gold in the mountains to the west of the parched valley of the evil name. since they managed to escape from death valley, after almost leaving their bones there as the penalty of their rashness, some days had passed; in fact it was now a week later. they had done considerable traveling in that time, and overcome all obstacles with their accustomed ability. all of them had grown weary of so much mountain climbing, and jimmy really voiced the united sentiment of the party when he declared that he was yearning for a chance to see the open plain, with grass instead of the eternal blistering sand, and mottes of trees dotting the picture with pleasing bunches of green that would be a relief to their tortured eyes. so they sat there and talked of the past, as well as tried to lift the veil that hid the immediate future, as though anxious to know what awaited them in the new life to which they were hastening. finally ned nestor arose and stretched himself, as he remarked: "i think we'd better be on our way, fellows, if we hope to get down there to the level before night comes along. the sun's headed for the west, you notice, and as this ridge will shut him out from us early, we haven't any too much time." "i guess you're about right there, ned," commented jack; "and for one i want to say i'd be right glad to make camp at the foot of the mountains. we can't say good-bye to these rocky backbones of the region any too soon to please me." the four burros had rested after their arduous climb, and there was not the least difficulty about getting them started moving. in fact they seemed to already scent the grass of the plains below, so different from anything that had been encountered thus far on the trip, and were showing signs of a mad desire to reach the lowlands. several times ned had to caution one of the others about undue haste. "hold your burro in more, jimmy," he would say; "there are too many precipices on our trail to take chances of his slipping, and dragging you over with him. to be sure mules and donkeys are clever about keeping their footing and almost equal rocky mountain sheep, or the chamois of the alps that way; but they can stumble, we know, and it might come at a bad time. they're wild to get down out of this; but for one i don't care to take a short cut by plunging over a three hundred foot precipice. easy now, teddy; behave yourself, old boy. that's an ugly hole we're passing right now, and we want to go slow." jimmy himself was apt to be a reckless sort of a chap; and many a time did ned have to check his impatience in days gone by. jack, too, often did things without sufficient consideration, though he could hold himself in on occasion; while harry seldom if ever had to be cautioned, for he was inclined to be slow. they often found themselves put to it to make progress, for while they followed what seemed to be a trail over the ridge, it had been seldom used, and many obstructions often blocked the way. once they had to get wooden crowbars and pry a huge boulder loose that had fallen so as to completely block progress. fortunately it had been easy to move it a few inches at a time, until they sent it into a gulf that yawned alongside the trail, to hear it crash downward for hundreds of feet, and make the face of the mountain quiver under the shock. in this fashion they had managed to get a third of the way down from the apex of the ridge, and ned, comparing the time with the progress made, announced it as his opinion that he believed they would be easily able to make the bottom before night came on. "that sounds all to the good to me, ned," declared jimmy, with a broad grin on his freckled face. "hope you're a true prophet, that's all," said harry. "i agree with ned," jack broke in with, "and say, we ought to make the foot of the range before night, the way we're going, unless we hit up against some bad spot that'll hold us up worse than we've struck yet." "that isn't likely to happen," ned observed, "because the further down we get the easier the going ought to be." "but i notice that the holes are just as deep," harry told him. "and a fall would jolt a feller as hard too, seems like," jimmy admitted as he craned his neck to look over at a place where the trail was only a few feet wide with a blank wall on the right and an empty void on the left. harry nervously caught his breath, and called out: "better be careful there, jimmy, how you bend over and look down. you might get dizzy and take a lurch or the frisky burro give a lug just then and upset you. we all think too much of you to want to gather up your remains down at the bottom of a precipice." jimmy laughed and seemed pleased at the compliment. he did not again bother about looking over, but occupied himself with managing his pack animal, which kept showing an increasing desire to hasten. at one point ned had stopped to tighten the ropes that held the pack on his burro, and in some manner jimmy managed to get at the head of the little procession that wound, single file, down that steep mountain trail. it was ned's intention to assume the lead again at the first opportunity, when he could pass the others. meantime he thought he could keep an observant eye on jimmy, so as to restrain him in case he began to show any sign of rashness. after all it was not so much jimmy's fault that it happened, but the fact that his burro had quite lost its head in the growing desire to get down to the green pastures from which it had been debarred so very long, and for which it was undoubtedly hungering greatly. that the unlucky animal should chance to make that stumble just at the time of passing another narrow place in the trail, where the conditions again caused them to move in single file, was one of those strange happenings which sometimes spring unannounced upon the unwary traveler. jimmy at one time even walked along with the end of the rope wound about his waist in a lazy fashion; but ned had immediately told him never to think of doing such a thing again, when there was even the slightest chance of the burro slipping over the edge of the sloping platform and dragging his master along. but right then jimmy had such a rigid clutch upon the rope that he did not seem to know enough to let go when the pack animal stumbled, tried to cling desperately to the rocky edge, and then vanished from sight into the gulf. in fact jimmy's first idea seemed to be a desire to drag the tottering animal back to safety, and it was because he was tugging for all he was worth on the rope that he was pulled over the edge himself. the other three scouts seemed to be petrified with horror when they saw their plucky but rash chum dragged over. none of them could jump to his assistance on account of the burros being in the way and plunging and kicking wildly, as though terrified at the fate that had overtaken their mate. ned was at the end of the line, and harry, though not far from the spot where the terrible accident happened, seemed to be too terrified to know what to do, until it was all over, and poor jimmy had vanished from their view. chapter ii. lucky jimmy. "oh! ned, he's gone--poor jimmy--pulled right over by that burro!" harry was crying as he stood there almost petrified with horror, while his own pack animal acted as though it might be terrified by the fate that had overtaken its mate, for it snorted and pulled back strenuously. ned knew that unless the remaining three burros were quieted a still greater disaster was apt to overtake them. "speak to your animal, harry; get him soothed right away! easy now, teddy, stand still where you are! it's all right, old fellow! back up against the rock and stand still there." ned as he spoke in this strain managed to throw a coil or two of the leading rope over a jutting spur of rock. then turning round, he crept on hands and knees to the edge of the yawning precipice and looked over, shuddering to note that while not nearly so high as that other precipice had been, at the same time the fall must be all of seventy feet. there at the foot he could see the unfortunate burro on his back and with never a sign of life about him. doubtless that tumble must have effectually broken his neck and ended his days of usefulness. "do you see him, ned?" asked a trembling voice close by, and the scout leader knew that jack too had crawled to the edge in order to discover what had become of poor jimmy mcgraw. "not yet," replied ned, sadly; "he may be hidden under the burro, or lying in among that clump of bushes." "but glory be, he ain't, all the same!" said a voice just then that thrilled them all. "if ye be lookin' over this way ye'll discover the same jimmy aholdin' on with a death grip to a fine old rock that sticks out from the face of the precipice. but 'tis me arms that feel like they was pulled part way out of the sockets with the jerk; and i'd thank ye to pass a rope down as soon as ye get over the surprise of havin' a ghost address ye." "bully for you, jimmy!" exclaimed jack; "seems like you've got nearly as many lives as a cat. hold on like anything, because ned's getting a rope right now, and he'll heave it over in three shakes of a lamb's tail. don't look down, jimmy, but keep your eye on me. we'll pull you out of that in a jiffy, sure we will. and here comes ned right now with the rope. he's even made a noose at the end, so as to let you put your foot in the same. keep holding on, jimmy, old fellow!" in this manner, then, did jack try to encourage the one in peril, so as to stiffen his muscles, and cause him to keep his grip on that friendly crag that had saved him from sharing the dreadful fate of the wretched burro. jimmy had fortunately kept his wits about him, and although the strain was very great, because he could find no rest for his dangling feet, he managed to hold his awkward position until the rope came within reach. "be careful, now, how you manage!" called ned, from his position fifteen feet above the head of the imperiled scout. "let me angle for your foot, and once i get the noose fast around it, you can rest your weight safely. but jimmy, remember not to let go with one hand, because your other might slip. leave it all to me." ned was already working the rope so that the open noose twirled slowly around, coming in contact with jimmy's foot, which the other thrust out purposely. while no expert in such angling and more or less worked up with fears lest jimmy suddenly lose his precarious hold, and go down to his death, ned presently met with success. the noose passed over the waiting foot, and was instantly jerked tight by a quick movement from above. by then jack was alongside the scout master eager to lend his assistance when it came to the point of lifting jimmy. harry, too, hovered just behind them, unable to look over because it made him dizzy when so terribly excited, but only too ready to take hold of the end of the rope and bracing his feet against some projection of the rocky trail, throw all his weight into the endeavor to draw the one they meant to rescue to the safety of the path. it was speedily but cautiously accomplished, for ned would not allow himself to be needlessly hurried, knowing how disasters so often result from not taking the proper care. jimmy was looking a trifle peaked and worried as he came clambering over the edge of the narrow path, assisted by ned, who as soon as he could get a grip on the other scout's jacket knew that all was well. no sooner did jimmy realize that he was surely safe than he proceeded to indulge on one of his favorite grins, although they could see that a deep sigh of gratitude accompanied the same. the very first thing he did was to turn around, and lying flat on his chest, look back down into that gulf from which he had just been dragged. "gee, whiz! but that was somethin' of a drop, believe me!" he remarked, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "and there lies me silly old burro on his back with never a sign of a kick acomin'. he's sure on the blink and whatever am i agoin' to do now, without any navajo blanket to sleep in nights? mebbe we might have ropes aplenty to lower me down there, so i could recover me valuables. 'tis a piece of great luck i had me marlin gun in me hands at the time and dropped it on the ledge, so i did." "if we couldn't get the things any other way, jimmy," announced ned, "perhaps i'd agree to that spliced rope business, because we've got more than thirty yards of good line with us, but i'd go down myself and not let you try a second time. still i don't think it'll be necessary. from what i see of the lay of the mountain we can reach that place after we leave this narrow trail." jimmy did not insist. perhaps his nerves had been more roughly shaken by his recent experience than he cared to admit; and the possibility of again finding himself dangling in space did not appeal very strongly to him. it was just as well that ned decided the matter as he did, for they found that once the end of the narrow stretch of rock was gained it was no great task to creep along the side of the mountain to the place where the dead pack animal lay. ned and jack made the little journey and in due time turned up again carrying with them all that had been upon the burro, save the water keg. "we left that behind," explained ned, "because as we are done with desert travel for this trip we won't find any need of such a thing. but here's your precious navajo colored blanket, jimmy; likewise we've saved what grub there was in the pack." "good for you, ned; i'd hated to lose that blanket the worst kind, you know; and as for the food end of the deal, well, what's the use telling you how i feel about that when you all know that i'm the candy boy when the dinner horn blows." jimmy was a great "feeder," as jack called it, and on many an occasion this weakness on his part had made him the butt of practical jokes on the part of his chums. but jimmy was not the one to give up any cherished object simply because some one laughed at him on account of it. he was more apt to join in the merriment and consider it all a good joke. the journey was now resumed, and the balance of the afternoon they met with no new hardships or perils worth recording. when the day was done and the shadows of coming night began to steal forth from all their hiding places where the bright sunlight had failed to locate them, the four scouts had reached the foot of the rocky mountain range and looked out upon the plain. here they made camp and passed a pleasant night with nothing to disturb their slumbers save the distant howl of a wolf, which was a familiar sound in the ears of these lads, since they had roughed it on many occasions in the past in more than a few strange parts of the world. although they had recently passed through some very arduous experiences these were only looked on as vague reminiscences by these energetic chums. the future beckoned with rosy fingers and that level plain looked very attractive in their eyes, after such a long and painful trip across the burning deserts and through that terrible death valley, where so many venturesome prospectors, gold-mad, have left their bones as a monument to their folly. when morning came again they cooked breakfast with new vim. and the fragrant odor of the coffee seemed to appeal to them with more than ordinary force because of the bright prospect that opened before them. "ned says it might be only two more days before we get close to uncle job's ranch," remarked harry, as he assisted jimmy in getting breakfast; for since the latter was so fond of eating his comrades always saw to it that he had a hand in the preparation of the meals, to which jimmy was never heard to offer the slightest objection. "then it's me that will have to be studying harder on all them cowboy terms so they won't take me for a greeny," jimmy went on to say in reply. "you just wait and see how i branch out a full-blown puncher. right now i c'n ride a bucking pony and stick in the saddle like a leech; and i'm practicin' how to throw a rope, though i must say i don't get it very good and sometimes drop the old loop over my own coco instead of the post i'm aimin' to lasso. but i'll never give it up till i get there. that's the way with the mcgraws, we're all set in our way and want baseball championships and everything else that's good to own." "jimmy," called out jack just then, "i think if you didn't talk so much we'd be getting our breakfast sooner, because you kind of cool things off. there, see how the coffee boils like mad whenever you hold up. how about it, harry, isn't it nearly done? i'm feeling half-starved, to tell you the truth." "then i'm not the only pebble on the beach this time, it seems," chuckled jimmy, who was so used to being made fun of on account of his voracious appetite that he felt happy to find that someone else could also get hungry on occasion. "in three minutes we'll give you the high sign, jack," harry announced and he was as good as his word, for it was not long before the chums might have been seen discussing the food that had been prepared and making merry over the meal as was their usual custom. starting forth in high spirits they began to head across the plain and at about noon all of them were electrified on hearing the distant but unmistakable whistle of a locomotive, showing that they were approaching the railroad. after their recent experiences in the dead lands this sign of civilization was enough to thrill them through and through. jimmy was immediately waving his hat and letting off a few yells to denote his overwhelming joy; while even ned looked around with more or less of a smile on his face. "sounds like home, don't it?" asked jack, beaming on the rest. "takes you back to good old new york, where you can sit down next to a plate of ice cream when your tongue feels thick from the heat and cool off. seems like i'd never get my fill of cold stuff again." pushing on they presently sighted the railroad and also discovered that just as ned had figured would be the case, they were approaching a town. "that's where we ordered our mail to be sent on from los angeles, up to the tenth, and i hope we find letters waiting for us," harry remarked; for he was quite a correspondent, though not in the same class with frank shaw, another member of the black bear patrol, whose father owned a big daily in new york and who often contributed letters to its columns when he was away on trips with ned. ned on his part was wondering whether he would receive anything in the way of business communications from the government people in washington, for it would be forwarded on from los angeles if such a message did come in cipher. so anxious were the boys to reach the settlement on the railroad that it was decided not to stop for any lunch at noon but to push right along. if there was any eating place in the town they could get a bite before leaving; and the change from camp fare might be agreeable to them all. at two o'clock they reached the place, which was hardly of respectable size, although it had a station and post office. the first thing the boys did was to head for this latter place and ask for mail, which was handed out after the old man had slowly gone over several packages. strangers were such a novelty in that nevada railroad settlement that the postmaster evidently was consumed with curiosity to know what could have brought four lively looking boys dressed in khaki suits very much on the same pattern as united states regulars, to that jumping-off place. but they did not bother themselves explaining and he had to take it out in guessing that the government was so hard pushed for recruits now in the army that they had to enlist boys not fully grown. while the other boys were eagerly devouring the contents of the various envelopes they had received, bearing the new york post mark, ned, who had put his own letters in his pocket for later reading, sauntered over to the station to interview the telegraph agent, who was also the ticket man, express agent and filled various other offices as well after the usual custom of these small towns. it was only a short time later that jack, harry and jimmy, still devouring the long letters they had received, in which all the news of the home circles was retailed, saw ned walking briskly toward them. "he's struck something or other that's given him reason to chirk up," announced the observant jimmy, as he took a shrewd look at ned's face on the scout master drawing near. "ten to one he's had word from the head of the secret service in washington. it'd sure be pretty punk now if after comin' so far over deserts and the like to visit your uncle, we had to drop off here and take the train back to los angeles, so ned could help gather in some gang of counterfeiters or look up a bunch of smugglers bringing the heathen chinese across the mexican border while all that fighting is goin' on down there between villa and huerta." ned quickly joined them. they could see from the alert look on his face that something must have happened since he left them shortly before to arouse ned. his eyes shone with resolution and he had the look that appears on a hunter's face when he discovers the track of the animal he had long wanted to bag. "did you find a message waiting for you here, ned?" asked harry. "just what i did," came the reply. "then it must have been from washington?" suggested jack, anxiously. "but let's hope for harry's sake it won't call you off from this scheme we've got started." "that's the strangest thing of it all," replied ned; "because, you see, this message was meant to send me from los angeles straight down into this very section of the colorado river country." chapter iii. the helping hand. when ned made this announcement the others exchanged looks in which wonder struggled with curiosity. "tell me about that, now," muttered jimmy; "was there ever anything like the luck that chases after us all the while? here we start out to visit harry's uncle, so he might carry out a mission that his folks sent him on, and of course the government must a guessed all about it, since they went and laid a game to be hatched out right in the same part of the wild and wooly west. can you beat it?" "let ned tell us what the game is, can't you, jimmy?" demanded harry. "yes, and please don't break in again with your remarks until he's all through," added jack. "it bothers a fellow to make connections when you get started. if you must talk, why, we'll throw in and hire a hall for the occasion. now, ned, tell us what the secret service folks want you to do." "i've had a message in cipher from my people in washington, telling me that while i'm out in this section they'd like me to look up one clem parsons, who's been wanted for a long time on the charge of counterfeiting government notes. when last heard from he was running a stage line somewhere in the country of the colorado and doing a little in the way of fleecing unsuspecting travelers who come out here to see the wonders of the canyon. so from now on we'll begin to ask questions and see whether we can get on the trail of this gentleman who's given some of the smartest agents in the secret service the call-down." "and then they have to depend on ned nestor and his able assistant, jimmy mcgraw," remarked the last mentioned scout; "excuse me, fellers, but if you don't blow your own horn, who d'ye reckon'll be fool enough to do it for you? but ned, if our luck holds as good as it generally does, chances are ten to one this same clem parsons will come tumbling right up against us. it seems like you might be a magnet and they all have to come our way sooner or later." "any description of what he looks like?" asked jack, who had known ned to get similar orders on previous occasions and could guess that it was not all left to his imagination. "yes, they tell me he is tall and thin and has a scar on his left cheek. he used to be a cow puncher at one time and might be working at his old trade now. that's a point to remember when we get to the double cross ranch. every puncher will have to run the gantlet of our eyes and if one of them happens to be marked with a scar on his left cheek, it'll be a bad day for him." "now, wouldn't it be queer if we _did_ run across the mutt there at your uncle's place, harry?" remarked jimmy. "but here we are again, ned, uniting business with pleasure like we've done heaps of times before now. mr. clem parsons, i'm sure sorry for you when this combination gets started to work, because you've _got_ to come in out of the wet and that's all there is to it!" it might appear that jimmy was much given to boasting; but as a rule he made good, so that this failing might be forgiven by those who knew him and his propensity for joking. they moved out of town after getting a pretty poor apology for a lunch at the tavern. jimmy declared that he would starve on such fare and announced his intention of immediately opening a box of crackers he had purchased at a local store so as to keep himself from suffering. ned, as was his habit, had interviewed about everybody that crossed his path, so as to improve upon the rude map he carried and which he had found to be faulty on several occasions, which fact caused him to distrust it as a guide. "we ought to make the ranch by tomorrow evening, if all goes well," he told his three chums, as they walked onward over the plain, still heading almost due southwest. "not much danger of anything upsetting our calculations from now on," observed jack, "unless we meet up with drunken punchers, run across some bad men who have been chased by the sheriff's posse out of the railroad towns and who try to make a living by holding up travelers once in six months; or else get caught in a fine old prairie fire." "say, that last could happen, that's right," jack went on to exclaim, looking a little uneasily at the dead grass that in places completely concealed the greener growth underneath. "if a big gale was blowing and a spark should get into this stuff she would go awhooping along as fast as a train could run. that's something i've often read about and thought i'd like to see, but come to think of it, now that i'm on the ground, i don't believe i care much about it after all." "they say it's a grand sight," harry volunteered; "but according to my mind a whole lot depends on which side of the fire you happen to be. what's interesting to some might even mean death to others." "yes, i've read lots about the same," admitted jack, "and of the trouble people have had in saving themselves when chased by one of these fires on the plains. if we do see one of the same here's hoping we are to windward of the big blaze." when the sun sank that evening they were hurrying to reach what seemed to be a stream of some sort, judging from the line of trees that cut across the plain and which only grow where there is more or less water to be had. the three burros must have scented the presence of water, for there was no keeping the animals within bounds. they increased their pace until they were almost on the run; and jimmy threw away the fag end of a whip with which he had been amusing himself by tickling the haunches of the burro in his charge and urging him to move along faster. one of the animals started to bray in a fashion that could have been easily heard half a mile or more away. hardly had the discordant sounds died away than the boys were considerably surprised to hear a shrill voice coming from directly ahead, as though the exultant bray of the pack animal had given warning of their presence to some one who needed assistance the worst kind. "help! come quick and get me! help--help!" came the words as clear as a bell and causing harry and jimmy to stare at each other as though their first thought might have been along the line of some deception that was being practiced upon them. but there was ned already on the jump and shouting over his shoulder as he ran: "jimmy, give your burro over to harry to look after; you too, jack and follow me on the run!" "that suits me all right!" cried jack; "here harry, please look after my pack!" and with these words he was off at full speed. jimmy was close at his heels. he had only waited long enough to snatch his rifle from the top of the pack on the burro that had been given into his charge after his own had been lost in the mountain disaster. jimmy was always thinking they might be attacked by indians off their reservation or else run across some bad men who liked to play their guns on strangers just to see them dance. for that reason he seldom if ever allowed himself to be caught far away from his repeating marlin these days. when they had pushed into the patch of cottonwoods they found that ned was already at work trying to lend the assistance that had been so lustily called for in that childish treble. a figure was in the stream, although just his head and a small portion of his body could be seen. he was stretching out his hands towards ned in a beseeching manner that at first puzzled jimmy. "why, i declare if it ain't a little boy!" he exclaimed; "but what's he doin' out there, i want to know? why don't he come ashore if the water's too deep. what ails the cub, d'ye think, jack?" "don't know--might be quicksand!" snapped the other, as he once more started to hurry forward. ned was talking with the stranger now, evidently assuring him that there was no further need of anxiety since they had reached the spot. "can't you budge at all?" they heard him ask. "not a foot," came the reply; "seems like i mout be jest glued down here for keeps and that's a fact, stranger." "how long have you been caught there?" asked the scout master. "reckon as it mout be half hour er thereabouts," the boy who was held fast in the iron grip of the treacherous quicksand told him; and so far as jack could see he did not exhibit any startling signs of fright, for he was a boy of the plains and evidently used to running into trouble as well as perilous traps. "but," jack broke in with, "you never shouted all that time, or we'd have heard you long before we did?" "never let out a yip till i ketched that burro speakin'," the boy replied; "what was the use when i didn't think there was a single person inside o' five mile? i jest tried and tried to git out but she hung on all the tighter; and the water kept acreepin' up till it'd been over my mouth in ten minutes more i reckon." "well, we are going to get you out of that in a hurry, now," ned told him in a reassuring tone; "jack, climb up after me, to help pull. jimmy, you stand by to do anything else that's wanted." ned, being a born woodsman, had immediately noted the fact that the limb of a tree exactly overhung the spot where the boy had been trapped in the shifting sand. this made his task the easier; but had it been otherwise he would have found some means for accomplishing his ends, even though he had to make a mattress of bushes and branches on which to safely approach the one in deadly peril. creeping out on that stout limb ned dropped the noose of his rope down to the boy, who was only some six feet below him. "put it around under your arms," ned told him; but as though he understood the method of procedure already, the boy in the sand was even in the act of doing this when ned spoke. "tie the end around the limb and let me pull myself up, mister, won't you?" the boy pleaded, as though ashamed of having been caught in a trap, and wishing to do something looking to his own release. this suited ned just as well, though he meant to have a hand in the pulling process himself and also give jack a chance. so when he fastened the rope to the limb of the tree he did so at a point midway between himself and jack. "get hold and pull!" he said in a low tone to his chum; for already was the boy below straining himself with might and main to effect his own release. it would have proved a much harder task than he contemplated; but the scouts did not mean that he should exhaust himself any further in trying. they managed to get some sort of grip on the rope and then ned called out cheerily: "yo heave-o! here he comes! yo-heave-o! up with him, jack! now, once more, all together for a grand pull--yo-heave-o! hurrah, he's nearly out of the sand!" five seconds later and the energetic boy was scrambling across the limb of the tree; and in as many minutes all of them had descended to the ground, the end accomplished and nobody much the worse for the experience. "it was a close call for me, that's sure," the boy was saying, as he gravely went around and shook hands with each one of the scouts, not excepting harry, who had meanwhile come up, leading the three burros; "an' i want you all to know i'm glad that donkey let out his whoop when he did. why, i might a been all under when you got here; but say, i lost my gun and that makes me mad." looking at the boy more closely they were struck with the fact that while he did not seem to be more than nine years old, he was dressed like a cow-puncher and had a resolute air. how much of this was assumed in order to impress them with the idea that he had not been alarmed in the least by his recent peril, of course no one could say. ned was wondering how the boy, brought up undoubtedly amidst such perils and on the lookout for danger all the while, could have fallen into such a silly little trap as this. "what were you doing in the stream that you stood there and let the sand suck you in?" he asked as he proceeded to help the boy scrape himself off so as to appear more presentable. "i was a little fool, all right," the kid immediately answered, with an expression of absolute disgust on his sharp face; "you see, i glimpsed a bunch of deer feeding just over yonder to windward and as they were headin' in this way i thought i'd lie low under the river bank and wait till they got inside easy gunshot. i tied my pony over in the thickest place of the timber and then walked out to where the water jest come to my knees, where i got low down to wait. say, i was that taken up with watchin' them deer afeedin' up that i forgets all about everything else and was some s'prised to feel the water tricklin' around my waist like. after that i knowed the huntin' game was all up, and that less i wanted to be smothered i'd have to get out in a hurry. but it didn't matter much how i pulled, an' heaved and tried to swim i jest stuck like i was bolted down to a snubbin' post and somebody had cinched the girth on me. then, after a while, when i was expectin' to swaller water, i heard that burro singin' and afore i could help it i jest hollored out. guess you must a thought it was a maverick. i could a kicked myself right away afterwards 'cause i give tongue so wild like!" ned smiled. he realized that the cub had imbibed the spirit of the indian warrior who disdains to display any weakness of the flesh. no matter how much he may have been frightened by his recent terrible predicament, he did not choose any one to know about it. indians may _feel_ fear but they have learned never to show it by look or action and to go to their deaths, if need be, taunting the foe. "well," he told the small boy, "we intended to camp for the night here close to the river and we'd be glad to have you stay over with us. plenty of grub for everybody and it might be much more pleasant than being by yourself. we are not western boys but then we've been around more or less and know something about how things are done out here. will you join us--er--" "my name is amos, amos adams, and i'll be right well pleased to stay over with you to-night, sure i will," the boy went on to say. so it was settled, and out of just such small things as their meeting amos in such a strange way great events sometimes spring. but none of the scouts so much as suspected this when they busied themselves preparing the camp, building the cooking fire, and seeing that all the animals were staked out to feed, after watering them. chapter iv. picking up points. "ned, whatever do you imagine this kid is doing out here all by himself?" jack asked this question in a low tone. they had cooked supper, and disposed of it promptly; and there had been an abundance for the guest, as well as the four chums. and now the two scouts were lounging near the fire, while jimmy and amos cleaned up the tin dishes and cooking utensils; harry meanwhile being busily engaged with some notes he wanted to jot down for future use, in comparing his recent experiences with those of others who had suffered tortures in the notorious death valley. "well, you've heard as much of his talk as any of us, jack," replied the leader of the expedition, quietly, "and so far there's been nothing said about himself. i'm going to beckon to amos to come over here, and put a few leading questions to him. out here when a fellow is entertained at the camp fire, it's only fair that he give some sort of an account of himself. besides, amos looks so much like a kid, just as you say, that it makes the thing seem queer." a minute later, catching the eye of the boy, he crooked his finger and nodded his head. plainly amos understood, for he immediately came across. "sit down, amos," ned told him. the small boy in the cowboy suit did so, at the same time allowing a sort of smile to come upon his bronzed face. "want to know somethin' about me, i reckon?" he remarked, keenly. jack chuckled as though amused at his shrewdness; but ned only said: "well, ordinarily out here on the plains i understand that men seldom express any curiosity about their chance guests; it isn't always a safe thing to do. but you see, amos, in your case it's different." "sure it is; i get on to that, mr. scout master," replied the boy, readily; for he had ere this noticed the emblem which ned bore upon his khaki coat, and which stamped him as authorized to answer to this name, which would indicate that amos knew something about the boy scout business. "in the first place we chanced to be of some little assistance to you." "a heap!" broke in the other, quickly. "and then, excuse me for saying it, but you are such a kid that anybody would be surprised to run across you out by yourself, carrying a gun, riding a pony like the smartest puncher going, and after big game at the time you got stuck in that quicksand--all of which, amos, must be our excuse for feeling that we'd like to hear something about you." "that's only fair and square, ned," the boy spoke up immediately; "jimmy there has been telling me the greatest lot of stuff about what you fellows have been doing all over, that i'd think he was stuffing me, only he held up his hand right in the start, and declared he never told anything but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him. and i'm ready to tell you who i am, and what i'm adoin' out here." "not that we think you're anything that you shouldn't be, amos," put in jack. "well, my name's amos adams, just like i said, and all my life i've been around a cattle ranch. that's why i know so much about roping steers, and riding buckin' broncs. i guess i was in a saddle before my ma weaned me. there are a few things mebbe i can't quite do as well as some of these here prize punchers, but it's only because i ain't as strong as them, that's all." looking at his confident face the scouts believed that amos was only speaking the plain truth. "my dad's name is hy adams," continued the kid puncher. "i guess you ain't been around these diggin's much yet, or you'd a heard who he is. they call him the bad man of the bittersweets, and when he raises his fog-horn of a voice lots of men that think themselves brave just give a hitch to their shoulders this way," and he imitated it to the life as he spoke, "and does what he tells 'em. that's when he's been drinkin'. but then there are other times--oh, well, i reckon, i hadn't ought to tell family secrets. "we live in a cabin, 'bout ten miles away from here. my dad, he's in the cattle business, when he don't loaf. sometimes he's 'round home, and agin he ain't, just 'cordin' to how things are agoin'. mam, she's a little woman, but she knows how to run the house. i gotter sister, too, younger'n me, and her name it's polly. i ain't gone to school any to speak of, but mam, she kinder teaches me, when i ain't ridin' out on the range, or totin' my gun on a hunt. that makes me mad to think i lost my gun in the drink there." "no use hunting for it in the morning, i should think?" suggested jack. "nary bit," the boy replied quickly; "it's down under that shiftin' sand long before now. but then she was an old gun, and i'm savin' up to git a new six-shot rifle, so it don't need to be long now before i'll be heeled agin." "is your father a rancher, then, amos?" jack went on to ask, idly. the boy grinned and looked at him queerly. "well," he replied, with a quaint drawl that amused the scouts, "i don't know as you could call him that way, exactly. he's been cow puncher, and nigh everything else a man c'n be down thisaway to make a livin'. me and my awful dad we don't git on well. that's one reason i gen'rally skips out when he takes a notion to lay 'round home for a spell. he knows right well i ain't afeard of him, if he has got the name of bein' a holy terror. i happen to belong to the same fambly. 'sides, he ain't what you'd call my real and true dad." "oh! i see, you adopted him, did you, amos?" jack asked, laughingly. "my mam she married agin after pop he was planted, and they went an' changed my name from scroggins to adams. i don't know which i likes best; but scroggins that's honest, anyway, which adams ain't--leastways some people around this region say it ain't. when i grows up i reckon i'll be a scroggins, or else get a new name." again the scouts exchanged amused glances. amos was certainly a most entertaining little chap, with his quaint sayings. "now, you see, dad never comes home alone any more, but fetches some of his cronies along with him, and there's unpleasant scenes ahappenin' all the time; which is one of the reasons why i skip out. they gets to drinkin', too, purty hard, till mam she has to douse a bucket of water over each puncher, and start 'em off. mam she don't approve of the kinds of business that dad takes up. but he keeps amakin' these here visits to home further apart all the while, 'cause things ain't as pleasant as they might be. some time mebbe he won't come no more. i'm bankin' on that, which is one reason i ain't never laid a hand on him when he gets roarin' like a mad bull. there are others, too, but i wont mention the same." amos had apparently been very frank with his new friends. he seemed to have taken a great fancy for them all, and, in turn, asked many questions concerning their expected visit to harry's uncle on double cross ranch, which place he knew very well. the conversation by degrees became general, and finally the scouts went on to talk about their own affairs. during this exchange of opinions, it happened that the name of clem parsons was mentioned by ned. perhaps it would be hardly fair to call it "chance," when in reality the scout master wanted to find out whether the kid puncher seemed to be familiar with the name of the man whom the government authorities in washington wished him to round up. the bait took, for immediately he heard amos say: "what's that, clem parsons? say, i happen to know a man by that name, and he's been over to our house lots of times, too." "then he's a puncher, is he?" asked ned. "well, i reckon he has been 'bout everything in his day, for i've heard him say so," came the reply. "he rides with my awful dad, an' they seem to git on together, which is some queer, because most of 'em is that skeered o' dad they tries to steer clear o' him." "my! but this dad of yours must be a grizzly bear, amos?" remarked jimmy, who had been greatly impressed with what he heard the boy say. "just you wait till you see him, that's all," was what amos told him. "mam, she reckons as how 'twas this same clem parsons as had got dad to ridin' 'round the kentry doin' things that might git him into trouble, an' she hates him like pizen, for the same. since they got to goin' together, dad he's allers showing plenty of the long-green, which he never handled before. but i ain't tellin' fambly secrets, and i reckons i'd better shut up shop." he had said enough, however, to convince ned and jack that he strongly suspected his step-father of having joined forces with a band of cattle thieves who were stealing the fattest beeves neighboring ranchers owned, and selling them on the side. there is always this temptation existing when cattle are raised on the range, often feeding for days and weeks many miles away from the ranch house, and scattered among the little valleys where the grass grows greenest. in the darkness of the night, a few of these experienced rustlers can cut out what they want of a herd, and drive them far away, effectually concealing the trail. then the brands are changed adroitly, and the cattle shipped away to be sold in a distant market. so long as this lawless business can be carried on successfully, it brings in big money to the reckless rustlers; but if discovered in the act they are usually treated with scant ceremony by the angry punchers and shot down like wolves. to some men the fascination of the life causes them to ignore its perils. then besides, the fact that money pours in upon them with so little effort, is a temptation they are unable to resist. so long as there are ranches, and cattle to be raised for the market, there will be men who go wrong and try to get a fat living off those who do the work. it did not surprise ned to learn that this clever rascal, whom he had been asked to look up and apprehend if possible, had for the time being forsaken the counterfeiting game and started on a new lay. clem parsons was no one idea man. his past fairly bristled with shrewd devices, whereby he deluded the simple public and eluded the detectives sent out by the secret service to enmesh him. he had played the part of moonshiner, smuggler, and bogus moneymaker for years, and snapped his fingers at the best men on the pay roll of the government. now, if as seemed possible, he had turned cattle rustler, perhaps there might come a complete change in the programme; for if the irate ranchmen and their faithful punchers only got on a hot trail with clem at the other end, the authorities at washington might be saved much further anxiety; for a man who has been strung up to a telegraph pole and riddled with bullets is not apt to give any one trouble again. ned had learned some important facts that were apt to prove more or less valuable to him presently. already he felt that they had been paid many times over for the little effort it had taken to rescue amos from the sand of the shallow river. scouts are taught to do a good deed without any thought of a return; but all the same, it is pleasant to know that the reward does often come, and if any of the four chums had failed to find a chance to turn his badge right-side up that day, on account of having given a helping hand to some one, certainly they must feel entitled to that privilege after lifting amos out of his sad predicament. saving a precious human life must surely be counted as answering the requirements of the scout law. when amos, a little later, left them to saunter down to the brink of the river, in order to give his mottled pony a last drink before leaving him at the end of his rope to crop grass the remainder of the night, jack turned to the scout master and gave expression to his convictions as follows: "well, it looks like your old luck holds good, ned, and that you stand a chance of running across your game the very first thing after getting here. if this clem parsons amos tells us about turns out to be the same man the government wants you to tackle, he'll be walking into the net any old time from now on. why, we may run across him tomorrow or the day afterwards, who knows?" "he's the right party," said ned, quietly. "i asked amos if he had a scar on his cheek, and he said it gave clem a look as though he was grinning all the time, a sort of sneering expression, i imagine. and as you say, jack, i'm in great luck to strike a hot trail so early in the hunt. given the chance, and i'll have mr. clem parsons on the way to los angeles, by rail, with a hop, skip and a jump." "he's a nifty character, all right," remarked jimmy; "and trains with a hard crowd out here, so we'll all have to pitch in and help lift him. four of us, armed with rifles as we are, ought to be enough to flag him." "one thing in our favor," ventured jack, "is that he'll never for a minute dream of being afraid of a pack of boy scouts. while he might keep a suspicious eye on every strange man he meets, and his hand ready to draw a gun, he'll hardly give us a second look. that's where we can get the bulge on clem, and his ignorance is going to be his undoing yet." "perhaps we'd better be a little careful how we mention these things while amos is around," ned went on to say. "but sure, you don't think that little runt would peach on us, do you?" demanded jimmy, who had apparently taken a great liking for the diminutive puncher. "certainly not," answered ned, "but you understand one of the things that goes to make a successful secret service operator is in knowing how to keep his own counsel. he's got to learn all he can about others, and tell as little about himself as will carry him through. so please keep quiet about my wanting to invite this clem parsons to an interview with the collector in los angeles." jimmy promptly raised his hand. "i'm on," he said. "mum's the word till you lift the embargo, ned. but it begins to look like we might have some interestin' happenings ahead of us, from what we know about this clem parsons, and what we guess is agoin' on between the ranchers and the cattle rustlers. i thought all the froth had blown off the top, after we quit that death valley, but now i'm beginnin' to believe we're agoin' to scratch gravel again right smart. which suits jimmy mcgraw all right, because he's built that way, and never did like to see the green mould set on top of the pond. keep things astirrin', that's my way. when folks go to sleep, give the same a punch, and start something doin'." "well," said harry, looking up from his work close by, "if you have a few more narrow squeaks like that one to-day up on the mountain trail, it won't be long before they plant _you_ under the daisies," but jimmy only laughed at the warning. chapter v. around the camp fire. it was a lovely night, with the moon looking almost as round as a big yellow cart-wheel when it rose in the east, where the horizon lay low, with the level plain and sky meeting. besides, it was not nearly as hot there on the plains as they had found it back where the sands of the mojave desert shifted with the terrible winds that seemed to come from the regions of everlasting fire, they scorched so. the scouts appeared to be enjoying themselves so much that even jimmy, usually the sleepy member of the party, gave no sign of wanting to crawl under his brilliant and beloved navajo blanket. near by the three pack animals were tethered, along with the calico pony owned by amos. they cropped the grass as though they could never get enough of the same. everything seemed so very peaceful that one would find it difficult to imagine that there could come any change to the scene. amos had joined the circle again, and once more the conversation had become general. ned asked numerous questions concerning the ranch which they expected to visit, and in this way they learned in advance considerable about the puncher gang, some of the peculiarities of various members of the same, as well as the floating news of the region. when amos was asked about the hunting he gave glowing accounts of the sport to be had by those willing to ride twenty miles or more to the coulies of the foothills, where a panther or a grizzly bear might be run across, and deer were to be stalked. "how about wolves?" jimmy wanted to know. jimmy always declared war on wolves. he had had some experiences with the treacherous animals in the past, and could not forget. there was a standing grudge between them, and every time jimmy found a chance he liked to knock over a gray prowler. amos shrugged his narrow shoulders as though he took very little stock in such cowardly animals. "oh! the punchers they have a round-up for the critters every fall, an' so you see they kind of keep 'em low in stock. then besides, ever since they took to payin' a bounty for wolf scalps, men go out to hunt for the same when they ain't got nothin' else to do. they ain't aplenty about this part of the country nowadays. i reckon as how that's why wolf harkness took to raisin' the critters." "what's that, raising wolves, do you mean, amos? sure you must be kiddin'?" was the way jimmy greeted this announcement. "not me, jimmy; it's plain united states i'm giving you, sure i am," the other insisted. "but there ain't no great call for wolf pelts, like there is for black fox and 'coon, and otter, and skunks and that sort of thing. how d'ye s'pose this wolf harkness makes it pay?" "oh! that's easy," replied amos, carelessly. "you see, he kills off a certain number of his stock once in so often and sells the skins. then later on they reckon that he collects the bounty for wolf scalps from the state." "but say, that looks kind of queer for any man to raise pests, and then expect to make the state pay him so much for every one he kills," jimmy remarked, shaking his head as though he found it difficult to believe. "don't know how he manages," the boy continued. "heard some say that the law, it left a loophole for such practices, and that they couldn't stop him. others kind of think he sells the scalps to some hunter, who collects for the same. but everybody just knows harkness does get a heap of cash out of his queer business." "ever been to his pen and seen his stock?" asked jimmy. "yes, once i happened that way, but the smell drove me away. there must have been thirty or more wolves in the stockade right then, and they looked like they was pretty nigh starved, too. i dreamed that night they broke loose and got me cornered in an empty cabin. i barred the door, but they pushed underneath and clumb through the broken windows, and everywhere i looked i saw red tongues and pale yellow eyes! then i woke up, and was scared near stiff, for there was a pair of eyes in the dark right alongside me in the loft at home. but say, that turned out to be only our old black cat." all of them laughed with amos, as though they could fully appreciate the scare he must have received on that occasion. the subject of the wolf farm seemed to have interested jimmy intensely, for he went on asking more questions concerning the raising of the animals, what they were fed on, the price of wolf pelts, and a lot more along the same lines until finally harry turned to ned and complained. "tell him to change the subject, won't you, ned? he'll have the lot of us dreaming we're beset by a horde of wolves. and you'd better make him draw all the charges out of his gun to-night, because he's sure to sit up and begin blazing away, to keep from being dragged off. jimmy's got a big imagination, you know, and every once in a while it runs away with him." "tell me," announced jimmy, rather indignantly, "who's got a better right to be askin' questions about the habits of the animals than me, who's a member of that same wolf patrol? how can you expect a feller to give the right kind of a _howl_ when he wants to signal to his mates, unless he finds out all these things." "oh! if that's the worst you are after, jimmy, go ahead and find out," jack was heard to say, condescendingly. "i thought you had a more serious scheme in that head of yours than just accumulating knowledge." jimmy turned and looked at him suspiciously. "and what did you think i had up me sleeve, if it's a fair question?" he asked. "why, you see," began jack, with a twinkle in his eye, "i was afraid that you might want to invest what money you've got saved in starting a wolf ranch of your own, or trying to buy this old man harkness out. i supposed that was why you wanted to know the exact value of wolf hides, and what the state paid bounty on scalps. but i'm just as glad to find that you're not bothering your head over the business part of the game. perhaps you'd like to meet up with this harkness, thinking he might give you a chance to shoot his collection of hungry wolves. that would be a snap for a fellow who hates the beasts like you do, and has made a vow to never let one get past him, when he had a gun handy or a stone to heave." jimmy only grinned. he did not know whether jack was joking or not, but there seemed to be something complimentary in his way of talking; and jimmy was not at all averse to being known as a champion wolf killer. "i only hope i get a chance to see this harkness and his bunch of slick critters before we quit this neck of the woods," he remarked. "but as i ain't a butcher you needn't think that i'd ask him to let me cut down his list with my new marlin gun. out in the open i'm death on the sneakers every time; but it'd go against my grain to knock 'em over, when they hadn't got any show for their money. i never could do the axe business for a chicken at home, even when we were livin' in the country." "oh! well, you must excuse me for speaking of such a thing, jimmy," said jack, with assumed gravity; "i was mistaken, that's all, in sizing you up. appearances are often deceitful, you know, and things don't always turn out as they seem. now, few people looking at you would ever dream that they were gazing on a marvelous phenomenon. i guess you caught that trick from association with ned, here," and jack might have continued along that vein still further had he not been nudged sharply by the scout master, and heard ned mutter: "mum's the word, jack. don't tell all you know!" this brought him to his senses, for he remembered that there was a stranger present, and that it had been decided not to expose their full hand to the gaze of amos, at least for the present. in this fashion the time passed. all of the scouts were in a humor to vote that one of the most delightful camps they had ever been in. perhaps this partly arose from the great contrast it afforded when compared with recent nights passed under the most trying of conditions, when crossing the desert, and the terrible valley lying to the east of it. amos had a blanket along with him. apparently the lad was accustomed to sleeping by himself on the open plain, and always went prepared. things were not as pleasant as they might be at his cabin home, frequently enough; and besides this, he must be possessed of a wandering nature, feeling perfectly satisfied to take care of himself, and capable of doing it, too. they were still lying around the dying fire, and each waiting for some one else to take the lead in mentioning such a thing as going to sleep, when amos suddenly sat upright. ned noticed that he had his head cocked on one side, and appeared to be in the attitude of listening for a repetition of some sound that may have struck his acute hearing. "there it comes again," amos remarked. "you see, the wind has veered around that way more or less; but say, twelve miles as the crow flies is pretty hefty of a distance to hear that pack give tongue, seems to me." ned had caught it that time. "you must mean the wolves that harkness keeps shut up in his pen for breeding purposes, is that it, amos?" he inquired. "nothing more nor less than that," came the reply. "there, i caught it as plain as anything then!" acknowledged jimmy, with a vein of triumph and satisfaction in his voice, as though he did not mean to be left at the post, when the whole bunch was running swiftly. "whew! they do make a racket, when they're excited, for a fact!" declared jack. "is it the wolves you're talking about?" asked harry. "don't you be hearing the noise beyond there?" jimmy asked him. "p'raps now, meat is so scarce that the old man's put his pets on half rations, and the whoopin' we hear is meant for a protest." "well, what of that?" jack wanted to know; "i guess you'd raise a bigger howl than that, jimmy, if we tried to put _you_ on half rations. i can fancy how you'd be trying to lift the roof off, and they'd have to call the fire company out to soak you with their hose so as to make you stop. but don't get alarmed, jimmy, because none of us have any intention that way." they sat there and listened for several minutes. no doubt, jimmy was endeavoring to picture in his mind what the den of trapped wolves must look like; and at the same time, he was promising himself once more to try and visit the harkness place before leaving the country. he would like to be able to say he had set eyes on so strange a thing as a wolf ranch. harry began to yawn, and stretch tremendously. "what ails you fellows; don't any of you expect to crawl into your blankets and pick up a little sleep? talking may be all very well, but it doesn't rest you up any. ned, why don't you tell jimmy to sound taps, all lights out so the rest of us can adjourn? as long as jimmy's afloat to do the grand talking act, it isn't any use trying to go to sleep, because you just can't." jimmy seemed ready to take up that challenge, and entered upon an argument calculated to prove that he was a mild mannered individual alongside of some people he could mention, though not wanting to give names. ned, however, put his foot down. "harry's right this time, jimmy, and you know it. so make up your mind to simmer down, and keep the rest for another time. we'll find a soft spot and see how well this ground lies. and we ought to make up some for lost sleep to-night, with that soft breeze blowing, and the air getting fresher right along." at that plain invitation jimmy began to make his blanket ready, for he never liked seeing any one crawl in ahead of him any more than he did to be the first one up in the morning. amos still sat there. ned, looking at the boy, saw that there was a little frown on his forehead, as though he did not exactly like something or other. "what's wrong, amos?" he asked, quietly. "the breeze, it is no stronger than before, you can see, ned," the kid puncher replied, as he held up his wet forefinger, after the fashion of range riders and plainsmen in general. "that's true enough," replied the scout master, always willing to pick up points in woodcraft, for he did not pretend to know everything there was going. "but listen!" added amos; "it is much louder now, you see." ned became intensely interested at once. "you are right," he remarked, "the sound of that wolfish howling does come three times as loud as in the start, and yet the wind couldn't be the reason of that. do you know what makes it, amos?" "i could give a guess, mebbe." "as how?" continued ned, while jack and jimmy and harry all stopped their preparations for fixing their blankets to suit their individual wants, in order to hear what the kid puncher would say. "when i was over there at the wolf ranch," amos commenced, "i remember now that i noticed the pen looked old and weak. i asked the hunter about it, and he said it'd hold, he guessed; that wolves, they didn't have the intelligence of hosses, or even cattle, so as to make a combined rush at a weak place." "well?" ned remarked, as amos paused. "it might be that somethin' happened to make that weak place in the big pen give way, and the whole pack is loose, acomin' for the river, hungry as all get-out, and ready to attack anything that walks on two legs, because they are nearly starved!" when amos gave this as his opinion, the scouts who had been getting their blankets ready for a quiet night's sleep seemed suddenly to lose all interest in the proceedings. instead jimmy started reaching around him for that new marlin repeating rifle, which had already proven its worth on several occasions. "whew!" they could hear him saying, almost breathlessly to himself; "thirty hungry wolves, all at a pop, hey? that's what i call crowding the mourners. i may be set on knockin' over an occasional critter when i run across the same; but say, i ain't so greedy as all that. think i'm in the wholesale line, do you? well, you've got another guess acomin' to you, that's all!" chapter vi. the wolf pack. "what can we do, ned?" asked jack. jimmy was not the only one now who had seized hold of his gun, for the other three scouts could be seen gripping their rifles. only poor amos was without his rifle, though he carried a revolver, cowboy fashion, attached to his belt. "it's out of the question for us to get away," replied the scout master; "because we only have three poor burros, and they'd be overtaken before they'd gone a mile." "yes," added jimmy, "and don't forget there's four of us, ned, darlint." "amos could skip out if he feels like it, because his pony has fleet heels, and might outrun the wolf pack?" jack suggested. "but all the same amos is agoin' to hang around, and take pot luck with the rest of the bunch," remarked the kid puncher, quietly. "but how about the animals," asked harry, nervously; "do we leave them to be pulled down by the savage beasts of prey? all of us could shinny up some of these trees, but burros can't climb." "huh, i've seen the time when i thought they could do everything but fly," grunted jimmy; "and i wasn't so sure about that, either." "we might bring them in close and stand guard over the poor things," ned went on to say. at that they hurried to where the four animals were tethered. already something seemed to have told the burros and the calico pony that danger hovered in that breeze, for they were beginning to show signs of excitement, and it was not such an easy job after all to lead them in close to the dying camp fire. hastily they were firmly secured. "will the ropes hold if they get to cutting up?" harry asked, after he had tied his as many as five different times, to make sure there would be no slipping of the knot. "they are all good and practically new," ned informed him, "and i think there's no doubt about their holding. now to get ourselves fixed. pick your tree, everybody, but let it be where you can keep watch over the animals, so as to knock over every wolf that makes a jump for them." they caught on to the idea ned had in mind. this was to occupy, say as many as three trees that chanced to grow in a triangle around the fire and the spot where the burros and pony had been fastened. the bright moon would give them all needed opportunity to see any movement on the part of the assailants, and woe to the daring wolf that ventured to cross the dead line. ned waited to see which trees the others would pick out before choosing his own place of refuge. he did this because he thought it good policy to have their forces scattered, as by that means they could guard the camp more surely. as they went on with these preparations, looking to the repulse of invading hosts of sleek gray-coated beasts of prey, they could hear the fiendish chorus of wolfish howls drawing steadily nearer all the while. there may have been a lingering doubt in the mind of jack or harry concerning the accuracy of that guess on the part of amos, but it was gone by this time. those constantly increasing howls had convinced them beyond all question. jimmy had picked out his tree easily enough. indeed, it was a habit of his these times to settle in his mind just what tree would make the best harbor of refuge in case of a sudden necessity. this he always did as soon as a camp had been decided upon. jimmy was wont to say with considerable pride that he was only following out the customary scout law "be prepared," which might cover the case, as it does many others. he seemed to have little trouble about climbing into this tree, first pushing up his marlin gun, and then the beloved navajo blanket with its bright colors; for jimmy did not mean to leave his personal possessions to the mercy of the thievish pack that had broken bounds and was wildly hunting for food. he climbed after the rest, and it happened that no one else had picked on that particular tree for their refuge, so that jimmy was going to have it all to himself. the lower limbs grew rather close to the ground, jimmy now realized; and he began to wonder whether he had after all been wise in choosing such a tree. would he be in any danger from the sharp teeth and claws of the wolves when they came rushing up? jimmy did not believe that wolves could climb trees; but all the same he did not feel altogether easy about it. still, when he found himself clutching his trusty gun new confidence seemed to be born in his soul. "let 'em come if they want to," he said aloud, between his set teeth. "if they will have it, i guess i'll be able to take care of the lot. every bullet ought to count for a victim; and, mebbe, now i'll be able to see if the bully gun can't send the lead through a couple at one time. it's passed through a six-inch tree, and that's goin' some, let me tell you. my stars! but don't they yap to beat the band. and say, they can't be more'n a mile away right now, i should think." the thought was enough to make his blood leap through his veins with renewed excitement. in imagination, jimmy already began to picture himself blazing away as fast as he could work the mechanism of his modern firearm; and, of course, bowling over a fresh victim with every discharge. "jimmy!" that was harry calling. "hello, there!" replied the one addressed. "did you think to grab up the grub and take it up with you?" continued harry. "oh! thunder!" jimmy was all broken up by this sudden intelligence. the others had apparently expected him to look out for the food supply, because jimmy was always ready to take this burden on his shoulders. and now, alas, what had seemed to be everyone's duty had proved to be no one's; their precious supply of food was left unguarded at the foot of that central tree, close to which the burros and pony had been hitched. could he reach it, and get back before the advance gray runner arrived on the scene, bringing his appetite with him and, likewise, his teeth well sharpened for business? jimmy came to a conclusion almost instantly, and having a convenient crotch in which he could leave his gun and blanket, he dropped down from his perch. "hey! get back there!" shouted jack; "don't you hear the pack coming along? they'll get you, jimmy! climb up again!" but jimmy, undismayed, was already making a bolt for the spot where he could see the pack he knew contained pretty much all the food they had left. he had to face one of two evils; and to jimmy's mind, it was far worse to run the chances of being starved to death than to accept the risk of the wolves coming up before he could climb into his tree of refuge again. jimmy knew what it was to suffer the pangs of hunger; and as he had never yet been bitten by wolves, he decided according to his light. there was surely need of haste, as he knew while bending over the package which he meant to save. the clamor of wolfish tongues was very close at hand, and with what seemed to be a full dozen joining in the yelping orgy it certainly went to make up a fiendish noise. he could hear the rush of jumping forms through the underbrush as though those eager animals had already scented what they considered their prey, and were straining every nerve in the endeavor to beat each other to the spot. jimmy in turning after securing the bundle had the misfortune to catch his left foot in a projecting root and fall headlong. he felt a thrill of horror, under the impression that his foot might be gripped fast in the upturned root, and that he would be held in this position until the bounding beasts had reached him, no matter how the other boys poured in a hot fire. but it was not so bad as that, and when he started to scramble to his feet again, jimmy found that he could move all right. he could have made much faster time had he obeyed the order which ned called out to him, to abandon the packet and make for his tree haven with all speed. but there was that old spirit of obstinacy urging jimmy to hold what he had, to the bitter end. what would he think of himself in times to come if he remembered that he had tamely submitted to conditions that were not of his own making and abandoned the entire visible food supply for himself and friends to those savage half-famished creatures? on gaining his feet jimmy again headed for his tree, gripping the bundle with both arms. that was a sight the other boys would not soon forget; but ned was not very much surprised, for he knew the nature of his assistant, and had on other occasions witnessed just such specimens of his grit. "drop it, jimmy!" shrieked harry, afraid that something terrible was about to follow this action on the part of the other scout, because the rush of the coming wolves had increased to a pitch that was next door to terrible. "don't do it, jimmy; we'll hedge you in, all right! bully boy, jimmy!" jack was calling out, for jack, being much more of a fighter than harry, could better appreciate the daring feat jimmy was carrying to a successful end. ned did not venture to say anything. he knew the weakness of jimmy, and how easily he could be "rattled" when others were shouting conflicting appeals to him. and so ned contented himself with sitting there, holding his gun ready for work and keeping a close watch, so as to discover the very first sign of the leading wolf of the coming pack. jimmy was now at his tree, but the next thing was to get the package of food safely lodged up among the limbs, where they formed crotches at the junction with the main trunk. he tossed it upwards, but was compelled to stretch out his hands and catch it again, pretty much as an eager football player might smother the pigskin oval in his arms on occasion. that wasted just so many seconds, but although he heard the rushing sound coming steadily toward him, jimmy was game to the core, and would not allow himself to think of giving up his part in the play. a second time did he give the packet a toss, and this effort had more steam back of it, for the object of his attention went considerably higher. it must have struck a limb, for it rebounded back, and once again landed at the feet of jimmy. he saw a flitting figure shoot across a little open spot where the moon's rays fell upon the ground; and jimmy knew full well that this must be the leading wolf, heading straight toward him, through the instinct that draws carniverous animals directly to their intended prey. nevertheless, he bent down and deliberately took the package of food in his possession once more, meaning to give a third trial, possibly under the belief that two good attempts deserve another. this time luck did follow his effort. the packet managed to lodge somewhere among the branches, for certainly it failed to fall back again. and so jimmy felt that having vindicated his reputation for courage, it was now up to him to look out for himself. so he commenced to climb. jimmy had never been one of the best climbers in the troop; for there were quite a number who could, as he would have said, "cut circles all around" him in the tree-tops. but this was a case where he was encouraged to exert himself to the utmost. there was something worth while at stake, for should those famished creatures ever reach him, he might expect them to make short work of their task. jimmy under other conditions would doubtless have climbed that tree more gracefully, but he could certainly not have done it in less time than on that present occasion. speed was everything to him just then, and he was willing to sacrifice agility, grace and make-believe coolness to the one object of avoiding too close acquaintance with the cruel fangs, which he knew must already be snapping and grinding in anticipation of a feast. once he slipped and came very near falling back to the ground. he felt a cold chill pass through his whole frame at the bare horror of the thing; then his grip held its own, and he managed to give one more desperate heave that landed him up in the first crotch. even there he was not safe. it was too near the ground, and one of those agile jumpers might easily spring that high, with half an effort. so jimmy, without even waiting to catch a fresh breath, put the spurs in and made another heave. he had an indistinct view of some object flashing toward his tree, more like a streak of light than a living creature. it must be that leading wolf, crazy to be the first to seize upon the prey they had scented from afar. jimmy might have shouted at the beast, in hopes of sending him back in alarm; but, in the first place, he did not have much breath left with which to engineer such a programme. then again he was not given half a show. not that the wolf sprang up, and took hold of his shins, that being the part of jimmy's anatomy extending further down the tree than any other. oh! no, such a catastrophe did not happen at all, because there was no chance that it could with such vigilant guardians near at hand. ned had, meanwhile, sung out something to his other two chums. this was in the nature of the "i've got it!" of the fielder, when a high fly comes his way; for he wants to warn his neighbors in due time, so that they may not interfere with his play and make a mess of it all. when jimmy heard the sharp report of that rifle so close at hand, his heart felt glad within him; for he guessed who had pulled the trigger, and his faith in ned's marksmanship was very great. "how's that, mr. umpire?" he managed to call, shrilly; and jack, apparently entering into the spirit of the thing, was heard to bawl lustily back, as though the appeal had been directed to him personally: "out at first!" "next batter up!" yipped little amos; which was enough to tell the scouts that the great national game was no mystery to this diminutive cow-puncher, with the face and body of a child, but the head of a grown person. then the fun suddenly became fast and furious. chapter vii. everybody busy. "my turn next!" shouted jack, as a further rushing sound announced the arrival of a second detachment of the escaped wolfish horde. ned had his shooting eye at its best when he sent the first leaden pellet toward that leading sprinter. the beast had come with a furious rush, and chanced to pass through a succession of shadowy patches, so that the scout master could not pull the trigger as quickly as he might have wished. the wolf had actually made one wild leap upward after jimmy's retreating and plump form before the crash of the gun came. it happened that jimmy was looking back over his shoulder at the time, though he knew that must be a foolish thing to do, and cost many a fleeing hunter dear. he would not soon forget the picture that met his eyes, as that gaunt gray pirate of the herd came rising toward him with that splendid bound. "why," jimmy was heard to say afterwards, when the shock of battle was a thing only of memory, "both his lamps looked like yellow fires, and that red tongue hung from his mouth, while i could see his long white fangs bared to beat the band. then i heard the bang of ned's gun, and that wolf fell back in a heap. when i saw the way he lay crunched up at the foot of my tree, i knew he'd gone and croaked. gee whiz! but that was a pretty close shave for jimmy mcgraw, let me tell you!" jack got his turn and he found it no easy task to knock over a leaping wolf, as glimpsed in the deceptive light. the moon's rays dazzled his eyes, and when he saw the newcomer flashing through the bars of light and shade jack pulled the trigger with no assurance that he had held positively on his target. it was true that the beast took a header, which proved that he must have been hit by the bullet; but, even as jack's nervous hands started to pump another cartridge from the magazine into the firing chamber of his rifle, he saw his intended victim scramble to its feet, utter one long howl, and then start to slink away. "no you don't there; just hold on a bit!" cried jack. in his excitement, he fumbled more than he should with the mechanism of his gun, and thus lost a couple of precious seconds. indeed, the wounded wolf might have vanished from view amidst the brush, only that harry took it upon himself to "put his oar in," with the result that the bombarded beast crumpled up. by that time even jimmy was ready for business, having managed to snatch up his marlin, and then look eagerly around for some target at which to fire. "don't forget the directions!" that was ned calling out. he knew the value of economizing ammunition when far from a base of supply; and, consequently, did not want the others to needlessly do anything of this sort. one bit of lead ought to be enough for each beast, if properly delivered. this warning was really meant more for jimmy than either of the others; for he had been known to get tremendously excited on other occasions, when peril threatened, and mix things up considerably. as everybody had had a shot but jimmy, it was now his turn, according to the order of events which had been arranged. jack recognized this fact by advising him to "be prepared" as a true scout always should. "here they come with a whoop!" amos was heard to exclaim, as there came a louder rush through the brushwood than at any previous time, proving that quite a bunch of the hungry animals must be at hand. "steady, jimmy, and be quick to pick your game!" called ned, thinking to thus keep the other from getting "rattled." from the furious way in which the balance of the pack was coming on, it seemed evident that they did not realize what sort of a surprise awaited them near the river bank. hunger and a keen scent was doing the business for them. they appeared to know that there was something worth while in the eating line around that particular part of the country, and evidently meant to make a bold bid for the same, regardless of consequences. jimmy was straining his eyes to discover the first sign of the oncoming pack. he had his faithful repeater up against his shoulder and was aiming at the spot he believed would speedily be occupied by a leaping wolf. jimmy was no sharpshooter, though he had done some fairly creditable work along the line of knocking over game in times past. as a rule, he preferred shooting at random into a bunch of quail and taking chances of making a fine bag. so now he indulged in the hope that several of the wolves would break cover in a heap, when he could just blaze away and, perhaps, knock over a couple with one shot; which he fancied would put a feather in his hat as a marksman who knew how to conserve his ammunition. then the time came to fire. he could see a confused mass tearing along through the spaces where those bars of light and shadow rather dazzled the eye; and, not daring to wait any longer, jimmy let fly. "hurroo! did you see that beggar roll over? and listen to the other howl, like he had the toothache, and no dentist within twenty miles! tell me about that, will you? soak it to 'em, fellers, good and plenty!" of course, all this was pretty much lost, because, what with the racket created by howling, yelping and yapping wolves, and the banging of the guns in the hands of the scouts, a din had started that made it impossible to hear any single human voice. jimmy realized that if he wanted to have a further share in the disposal of the savage pack, he had better be getting busy again. so he up with his rifle, and looked eagerly for some target at which he could fire. there never could be a more exciting affair than that battle with the escaped wolves that harkness, the herder, had been feeding and keeping for breeding purposes. they were far from tamed by their recent confinement; indeed, ned could not remember ever having run across a more savage pack in all his experience. afterwards, in commenting on this strange fact, he came to the conclusion that it was caused by a combination of two things: the animals had not been fed recently, and were almost crazy for food; and then, he learned that harkness had ever been a cruel despot, using a black-snake whip with a long cutting lash to quiet his pack in their enclosure, whenever their howling annoyed him--always keeping well out of the reach of their fangs when plying the whip, it may be understood; for he had a species of "pulpit" built out far above the pen, in which he was free to swing that instrument of keen torture. it was just slaughter, for the wretched wolves really had no chance at all to retaliate. ned sickened of the business quickly, but what could they do otherwise? it was a condition that had been forced upon them. they had not invited the attack, and must defend themselves against the pack, no matter at what cost. before long there were dead and dying wolves lying all around, as "thick as blackberries in the good old summertime," as jimmy put it. others that had received wounds, and no longer felt the same furious desire to try conclusions with the enemies perched beyond their reach in the trees, began to slink away. doubtless, they remembered old lairs in the distant hills to which they might fly; and, in some fashion, supply themselves with the necessary food, without taking such desperate chances. "all gone, it looks like, ned!" sang out jack, "and just when i've gone and got the magazine of my gun charged again, too." "set 'em up in the other alley!" cried jimmy. "i accounted for some of the victims, you can roll your hoop on that!" "my stars! but that _was_ a warm session!" exclaimed harry; "and i wonder now if you got any sort of picture, jack, when you used your flashlight on the scrimmage?" that was just what jack had done, laid his rifle aside for a minute, and made a good use of his camera, prepared for the occasion. the sudden flare of the cartridge had illuminated the scene as might a flash of lightning; and, possibly, this had been one of the causes that frightened the balance of the pack away, for the attack weakened from that moment. "dast we get down now?" asked jimmy. while he was speaking, amos adams dropped from his perch, as though he could see no further reason for playing the part of a bird and perching there among the branches. during the racket ned had several times heard the lighter report of a six-shooter, and understood that the kid cow-puncher was trying to do his share of the work in diminishing the number of harkness' pets. whether success followed his efforts or not, ned was unable to say, though he imagined the boy knew how to shoot the gun he "toted" in the holster at his belt. as there was no reappearance of the wolves, the rest of the campers came down. the burros and the calico pony had acted as though frantic during the melee; but, as the boys had made sure to secure them properly, they were all there and by degrees quieting down, when they found that they were not going to be made a meal of by those savage beasts of prey. the scouts counted just thirteen dead wolves scattered about. two others were trying to crawl away, dragging their broken limbs after them. "we must knock those fellows on the head," said ned; "because they'll die anyway, and it's the duty of a scout to put an end to needless pain." although he had already had more than enough of the slaughter, ned followed after the two escaping animals. they showed their venomous natures by turning on him and snarling furiously; but ned stopped far enough away not to endanger himself from those glistening fangs exposed when the red lips were drawn back. two quick shots did the business, and then there were fifteen. "huh! harkness' game is about up this time, and he won't raise any more young wolves to sell the skins for lap-robes and turn over the scalps to the state for bounty money," jack observed, as they all gathered again near the fire, which was started up afresh; for they could not think of such a thing as sleep for some little time, after so much excitement. "if there's even two dollars apiece, it would net a feller thirty plunks right now, to raise the hair of this bunch," speculated jimmy. "but we don't want to go into the wolf scalping business, do we, ned?" expostulated harry, who viewed the idea with considerable disgust. "certainly not," replied the scout master. "let harkness come and get his property if he wants, for all of us. we've saved him all the trouble of cleaning up his pack. he ought to thank us for it; but, if what amos here says about him is true, i don't believe he will." "well," said jack, frowning, "he'd better not get too gay and try to blame us for cleaning out the pack, because we won't stand any abuse. it was a case of give and take. they meant to pull us down and make a fine meal; and they got what was coming to them. harkness had better go slow how he complains." "i was wondering," mused ned, as he settled down comfortably again, just as though nothing worth mentioning had happened to disturb him, "whether anything had come to harkness?" "how could there?" demanded jimmy. "oh! of course, i don't know, but then it might be the wolves had caught him off his guard and torn him to pieces before they skipped out. if we have time, perhaps we ought to go around that way and see if there's anything wrong." the others did not seem to look at it in the same light that ned was doing. "a waste of time, ned," jack declared, vehemently. "that's what i say," added harry. "can't see what it matters to us whether the old rascal has been hoisted by his own infernal machine or not!" grumbled jimmy. "but don't forget that we're scouts," ned continued impressively, "and that we ought to follow the scout law which teaches us to do good, even to our enemies, if the chance opens up." "after we've licked the same good and plenty, i admit," jimmy spoke up, with one of his famous grins decorating his freckled face and a twinkle in his eye. "p'raps you're right, ned; and, as we've upset the old man's business, we could call that a lickin' and let her go at that. if you're of the same mind in the mornin', tell me. but say, i b'lieve i could snatch a few winks right now, since things have calmed down." save for the distant mournful howling of several of the hungry wolves nothing was to be heard all around them. so after arranging for keeping "watch and watch," the scouts turned in. amos snuggled down alongside them; while jack, upon whom had fallen the choice for the first spell at playing sentry, settled his back up against a tree, laid his ready gun across his knees, and prepared to do his duty. the fire burned brightly for a long time and jack sat there thinking of many things connected with both the past and the immediate future. doubtless, he felt that it began to look as though they were not yet through with hazards and adventures on this trip, when, on what was practically their first night out on the open plain, they had been so savagely beset by harkness' escaped wolf pack. by degrees even the distant howling of the few survivors died away, as they no doubt started for the distant mountains, afraid to come back to the scene of the recent carnage, even though the scent of blood must have tempted them dreadfully. jimmy had gone to sleep immediately he lay down, for he never knew the time when he could not forget his troubles in sweet slumber. once or twice he managed to get on his back and aroused ned by his heavy breathing. on these occasions the scout master was in the habit of giving the offender a sharp punch in the ribs and it seemed as though jimmy understood what was wanted, even in his sleep, for he would inevitably turn over on his side. ned had just been through the third experience of this kind and was wondering whether he had not better suggest that they always tie jimmy in a certain position as he lay down to sleep, when he heard a voice close by. as ned instantly sat up he recognized the tones as belonging to pard jack, who was evidently laying down the law to some party: "hold up your hands, you there in the bushes, and step right up to the fire, or i'll shoot; and, let me tell you, this gun goes straight! lively now, mister, and no foolishness! oh! ned! come here, will you? we've got a visitor!" chapter viii. an unwelcome guest. when ned started toward the spot where he knew jack was on guard, he could hear harry groping for his rifle, and this told him the other would also be close on his heels. harry, finding that jimmy still slumbered peacefully, managed to give him a severe poke in the ribs as he passed that had an immediate effect. "here, who's doin' that now?" broke from jimmy's lips, and then, no doubt, he suddenly realized that there was something up, for he saw ned poking the fire, holding his gun in the other hand, and harry also standing erect, armed in the same manner. accordingly, jimmy made haste to discover his gun and follow after them. in the meantime, the dusky figure among the bushes which jack was covering had stood erect and started to advance toward the fire, as ordered, holding his hands high above his head. "it's harkness!" cried out the kid puncher, who had been on his feet about as soon as ned; and, somehow, no one was much surprised at the information thus conveyed. ned saw that harkness was just about such a looking man as one might picture if asked to describe a wolf-raiser. he had grayish hair and a scraggy beard; his face was ugly, and his eyes, like those of a rat for keenness and audacity. taken in all, he was as tough looking a character as the scouts had run across in many a day. "wot d'ye mean a holdin' a man up thisaway, when he jest natrally draps in to arsk who killed them pets o' his'n?" the wolf-herder blurted out, though careful not to take his hands down, for he knew that jack was still covering him with that dangerous looking repeating rifle, and there was an air of business about the weapon that warned him not to get careless. "oh! you can lower your hands now, if you want," jack sang out, "because we're all on deck and could riddle your hide with lead if you tried to use your gun. so just take things easy now, mr. harkness, if that's your name." "it air!" growled the man, staring hard at each boy in turn, as though he did not know what to make of their khaki uniforms and was a little afraid he had run up against a detachment of united states regulars. "and i reckon then that all these dead wolves belonged to you?" ned went on to remark, as he swept his hand around. the man said something hard under his breath. "ye gone an' busted up my bizness, thet's wot ye done, w'en ye laid out tuh kill the animiles!" he complained, as he gritted his yellow teeth very much as one of the wounded wolves had done at ned's approach. "that couldn't be helped, harkness," the scout master told him. "your wolves had broken out, and you couldn't expect to ever trap many of them again, at the best. they came at us like fury, and we had to defend ourselves, or we'd have been torn to pieces like a flash. and that's why this happened. we weren't out hunting for trouble; but you've lost you pack on account of a weak place in your pen." "but ain't yuh meanin' tuh pay me anything fo' shootin' up my pets thisaways?" harkness demanded, trying to look fierce, though keeping an eye on jack with his ready gun. jimmy laughed out very loud. "would you be after hearing the nerve of him, fellers?" he exclaimed in derision. 'tis meself that thinks it sounds like adding insult to injury. after lettin' the pack loose to make a square meal from us, then askin' pay, because we had to fight to save our precious lives. 'tis a rare joke, it is--not on your tintype, mister harkness. our principle is 'millions for defense, not a plunk for tribute.' so put that in your pipe and smoke it." "you've got a lot of assurance, harkness," ned told him, severely, "to think of asking such a thing. why, the boot is on the other foot, and we ought to be demanding that you pay us back for all the ammunition it took to clean up your pack for you. i'm half inclined to believe we could prosecute you for keeping such a lot of savage animals. you'd be wise to go mighty slow about trying to make trouble for any of us. we might take a notion to run you in." the man's whole demeanor changed when he discovered that his bluster was not going to alarm the scouts. "i hopes now," he went on to say in a whining tone, "thet yuh won't keep me from taking the pelts off my poor pets. they's worth sumpin' tuh me, likewise the scalps o' the same. i been bankin' on thet money this long time. hit's all i got tuh see me through the winter. don't be too hard on me, gents. i'm out o' the wolf raisin' line fo' keeps, arter this bust-up." ned consulted with his chums for a minute or two and then turned again to the intruder. "here's what we propose to have you do, harkness," he remarked, with such an air of finality that the man knew he must yield to circumstances, "hand over that gun of yours to me; you'll get it again in the morning, when we break camp. then lie down and go to sleep. one of us will be on the watch all the time, so if you try any monkey-doodle business, as jimmy here would call it, better go slow, or something will happen. do you understand that, harkness?" the man's ugly face grew as black as a thunder cloud, and then with an effort he tried to grin, though it only added to his unsavory appearance. "thar be times w'en a feller has tuh eat crow an' i reckons as how this be sech a time fo' me, younker," he said, slowly. "oh! i hain't no 'jections tuh stayin' hyar alongside the fire; but i hopes as how yuh'll let me hev my pelts w'en mo'nin' comes 'long." "yes, we'll agree to that and, if you behave, you can take your property after we clear out in the morning. perhaps we'll go so far as to invite you to breakfast, too, in the bargain, harkness, to show that we have no bad feelings because your pack made us have a pretty hot session to-night. so that's settled. your gun, please." the wolf-herder handed it over, though with an ill grace. no doubt, he was what they call a "bad man" down in the southwest, and this thing of being made a prisoner by a parcel of half-grown boys, as it seemed, galled him greatly. after that he dropped down near the fire, clasped both arms about his knees and stared moodily into the flames. "jack, seems to me you've outstayed the time limit we set," ned suggested, after taking a quick look up to where the moon was sailing through a star-decked sky; for scouts early learn to tell time from the positions of heavenly bodies, and the setting of a star will be almost as sure an indication that a certain hour has arrived as though a watch had been consulted. "oh! well, i thought you seemed to be sleeping so sound that i'd let it run on a little," the other made answer, for jack was as generous as they make boys, "and then, you see, i got interested watching _him_ come creeping along like a snake, stopping every minute to examine one of the dead wolves, and saying something to himself each time, like he kept getting madder and madder." "well, i'm going on duty now, jack, so just crawl over to your blanket and turn in," said ned, in his quiet but positive way. amos was hovering near him at the time, as though he wanted to say a few words on the sly. he found the chance when ned sat down, also leaning against the same tree that had supported the other vidette. "i wouldn't think too much about hurtin' the feelings of that old mule-skinner if i was you, ned," the kid cow-puncher went on to say, "he ain't near so mad as he puts on. why, if it hadn't been for you and the rest, he'd never got a single pelt of all that pack. they were free and would a got clear away, if we hadn't rounded the same up here. fifteen hides, and as many scalps, he gets, without wasting his ammunition. he's putting on--that's what. but keep an eye out for him, ned. that was a smart trick to take his gun away; but you've only scotched the snake, not killed it." ned promised that he would watch the wolf-herder closely and not allow him to make any sort of suspicious move. "i don't think he means to try any funny business, though," he added. "you see he stands to lose all his pelts if he pulls his freight and gives us the good-bye sign. and with five against him, the odds are too big; for a boy with a rifle can be just as dangerous as a full-grown man." it was somewhere near one o'clock at the time of the alarm. the moon was high up in the heavens and even starting down her road toward the western horizon. ned kept watch and ward diligently. he did not mean to be caught napping by any unsuspected circumstance. it was hardly likely that harkness could have any allies near by. ned had been particular in asking about that, and amos assured him that so far as he knew, the wolf-herder conducted his business alone, shunning the society of others, save on rare occasions when he came to town for a spree. the night passed away without anything else happening to disturb the sleep of jimmy. harry awoke later on and insisted on taking his turn at keeping watch; so ned secured his blanket and lay down close to him, having impressed it on harry's mind that, at the least sign of a movement on the part of harkness, he was to reach out a hand and shake him. but just as ned had said, the wolf man must have figured it out that he had everything to gain and nothing to lose by staying where he was and waiting for the boys to break camp, when his gun would be returned and himself left at liberty to rid those dead animals of their shaggy gray coats. jimmy was thoughtful to cook enough breakfast for an extra mouth, and so harkness was given his full share of coffee, bacon, and fried potatoes, as well as all the crackers he could eat. he said little or nothing, unless some question happened to be fired his way, when he would make a curt answer. all the while he kept his ears open and eyed the boys in a suspicious way, as though disturbed by their presence in the neighborhood. those suits of khaki evidently puzzled harkness, who could never have run across boy scouts before and knew nothing about their ways. noticing these looks on his part, and how he appeared to be listening intently, as though desirous of picking up certain information that might prove of value to him later on, ned cautioned his chums against speaking of their affairs. this he managed to do, through certain gestures and nods, when the man's eyes happened to be turned in another direction. later on they made ready to pull up stakes and once more start on their journey toward the cattle ranch, which they expected to reach before sunset on this same day. harkness was eagerly waiting to be handed his gun, which ned had taken the trouble to unload while it was in his possession. there was not much chance that the man would dare fire upon them, since he knew what the result would be and how apt to prove unpleasant for a fellow of his size; but, then, ned believed in taking all precautions possible, and he certainly did not like the looks of that heavy face with its rat-like eyes, which jimmy compared with the glittering orbs of a pet ferret he had at home. he had already been busily engaged removing the hides of the slain wolves and seemed to be willing to accept what the fates had given him. all the same, ned believed he was a treacherous character who would betray his best friend for a money consideration, and he did not mean to trust him too far. when everything had been packed and they were ready to depart, ned laid the rusty gun of the wolf-herder on the ground. "there's your property, harkness," he remarked casually, "just as i promised. and i want to say in parting company with you, that i think you're lucky to get about half your pelts, after losing the whole outfit. of course, we don't expect you to thank us for saving half a loaf; but we'll be looking back as we leave here to see how you get on. and, harkness, i wouldn't be in any too big a hurry to step over to where i laid your gun. so-long!" the man said never a word in reply but if looks could kill, surely ned must have met his finish then and there, to judge from the black scowl that settled on the heavy face of the wolf man. in this fashion, then, they started out on what they hoped would be their last day's journey before arriving at the ranch of harry's uncle. all of the scouts seemed to be feeling particularly merry on this bright morning. perhaps it was because of the clever way in which they had escaped from the many perils that had lain in wait to ambush them since leaving the coast. "we're well out of gunshot distance by now," observed jack, "and he's still working with his pelts, so it doesn't seem as though we'd have any trouble with that harkness. of all the tough looking characters i've ever run across, he sure takes the cake. i don't believe there could be anything worse made." at that amos was heard to chuckle. "oh! you think so, do you, jack?" he remarked with lofty scorn, "just wait till you glimpse my awful dad, and then you can talk. he's a holy terror! why, even the yellow curs in the town streets take to running with their tails between their hind legs when they see him coming along. his looks and his fog-horn voice have carried him through many a tight place; but there's one hole he always sticks in. my dad is as good as a whole regiment, to make men shake in their boots; but--" and again did the kid puncher pause in that strange way, while a mysterious smile crept over his dark face, as though certain recollections gave him more or less amusement. ned's curiosity had been aroused to a mild extent, but he would not ask questions, preferring to wait for time to unravel the mystery connected with these vague hints on the part of amos adams. a short time later and they had lost all track of the previous night's camp in the hazy distance. and from that time forward, the scouts were interested only in what lay ahead; for somewhere far off they knew was to be found the cattle ranch to which they were bound and where a warm welcome, undoubtedly, awaited them, after their perilous hike across burning deserts, towering mountain ridges, and the valley with the evil name. chapter ix. the homing pigeon. "what are we turning aside for, ned?" and as jimmy asked this question he laid a hand on the arm of the scout master, having pushed up from behind, leading the pack animal that had been given over to his charge after his own was lost. "why," replied ned, readily enough, "you see, amos lives over among those trees, where there's a little stream, and he hinted pretty broadly that, while we were passing, he'd like us to meet up with his mother." "oh! that's all right," jimmy asserted. "i've taken quite a liking for the kid and a little rest will do the bunch good, anyway. one thing i've made up my mind about, ned, and i don't care who hears me say it." "all right, pitch in, and let's get the glad news, jimmy," remarked jack, from a point near by. "never again for me to start our on a trip afoot while i'm here in this hot country!" jimmy declared solemnly, holding up his hand, as though he were in the witness box. "what sillies we were not to have thought of that instead of putting our good cash into that bunco automobile that played out before it even got decently started." "it seems that we've all learned our little lesson," ned admitted, "and after this we ride, if we go at all. cars may do very well, where there are half-way decent roads; but out on the sandy desert and on the plains give me a broncho every time. "but say, are you fellows noticing how jolly this scenery is around here?" harry wanted to know just then, from the rear. "look at that sage brush on the slope of that low hill over to the right. it must be breast high to a horse, and seems like i could smell its fragrance away off here. how gray it looks, except where the wind waves it and then it seems nearly purple." "yes," added ned, "and this must be what they call rattlesnake weed, though i don't know what it's got to do with the crawlers. you can see the grasshoppers jumping in that lush stuff where the ground's moist. and there's a king bird sitting on that high weed yonder." "listen to the gophers whistling a warning to their kind, when they see us coming," remarked jack. "yes, harry, you're right, this is worth looking at. why, i wouldn't be surprised now, if at night-time, you could hear the drowsy chirp of the crickets and the shrill rattle of katydids around here. a bigger contrast to what we went through in that desert you couldn't imagine." "it's sure all to the good," asserted jimmy, "and i don't blame that mother of amos for pitching her dugout in this particular region. but mebbe she'll be sorry the boy didn't fetch any game home with him." "oh! amos says he means to start out again in a different direction and knows where he's pretty sure to get an antelope, anyhow," jack remarked. they were now approaching the trees in which some sort of human habitation evidently had been constructed, for smoke was seen curling lazily upward. it proved to be one of those half-dugout, half-building which is to be found in many parts of the wild west where lumber is scarce. as there was practically no winter weather in this part of the country, it answered all purposes, though far from a thing of beauty. still, that mother of amos' had brightened things up more or less, so that it could be seen the hand of a woman was around. a small garden lay back of the house, surrounded by a wire fence to keep animals from devouring the precious green stuff which was grown there. several dogs started toward them with yelps and deep-throated barking; and jimmy unconsciously reached out a hand for the marlin that was fastened to the pack of his burro. jimmy's dislike for wolves was shared by dogs of all kinds. he said it must have been born in him, since he could not remember ever having had any desperate adventure with canine foes while a kid. amos, however, threw oil on the troubled waters and, at the sound of his voice, the fury of the dogs changed instantly to a noisy greeting. they jumped up and fawned on the kid in a way that told how much they loved him. and, doubtless, instinct told each beast that those in company of the young master must also be friends; for, when ned whistled and snapped his fingers, one of the dogs immediately started to approach, wagging his tail in a neighborly way. a small-sized woman had come out of the dugout and stood there with a hand shading her eyes, as though to see who might be approaching. ned noticed that she carried a shotgun in her other hand, and it struck him that a woman who might often be left at home alone in this strange country had need of knowing how to use some sort of firearm. she looked very meek and did not seem to have very much snap and go about her. when amos introduced the boys and told what a great favor they had done him, she went around shaking hands in an odd way; but evidently mrs. adams differed from the vast majority of her sex, for she did not seem to have much to say. "gee! what a shame!" jimmy muttered in ned's ear. "what is?" asked the scout master, also in a whisper. "that's always the way it goes," continued the observing jimmy, "seems like there never was a shrinking little woman, as timid as they make 'em, but what she had to go and link herself with some big bully of a blustering man. opposites seem to attract in this world; you've seen a speck of a girl pick out the tallest feller she could find, and the other way, too." "yes, it does look like that, jimmy," admitted ned, as he tried to discover some trace of spunk about the little woman, and utterly failed. "chances are," jimmy continued, in his reflective way, "that when this bad man of a hy adams, the worst case along the whole border, they say, gets on one of his tearin' fits, he just makes rome howl. and say, i can just see that poor timid little thing cowering down like a scared puppy when it hears its master raging. but, then, mebbe amos he hangs around to sort of protect his maw; though it don't seem as if a small chap like him could do much along that line." "if he does, he didn't think it right to do any boasting that i can remember," ned replied, again studying the mistress of the dugout, but without much success. mrs. adams insisted on their resting a short while and taking a cup of coffee with her. apparently, she had some means of her own, for there seemed to be plenty to do with in the place; and when the boys saw the bunks used for sleeping they pronounced them not at all bad. indeed jimmy promptly began yawning; and, if any one had invited him to test one of the bunks, the chances are he would have only too willingly complied. there was little said during the meal, at least by the mother of amos. perhaps, as jimmy suggested in an aside to ned, the weight of her troubles in being mated to a human hurricane like hy adams had taken all the life out of her, and hence she evinced but little interest in whatever happened. amos, as if to cover up this lack of conversational gifts on the part of his mother, kept the boys busy telling some of their past adventures. and, finally, ned advised that they had better be getting ready to pull out, as considerable territory remained to be covered before they could expect to reach the cattle ranch buildings. "you'll sure look us up before long, amos?" he said to the lad, as they shook hands at parting. "i should say yes," added impulsive jimmy; "because i'd hate to think i wasn't goin' to see you again." amos looked serious. "i did promise you, didn't i?" he observed slowly, "and when i says a thing i nigh always keep my word; but i kinder reckon as how i mightn't be welcome over to the double cross ranch." "you mean, because you have the hard luck to be connected with a bad man like hy adams?" harry remarked. "but don't bother about a little thing like that. my two uncles are the kind of men who judge a fellow by what he's done himself, and not by his relations. why, we had a bad egg in our family once, and seems to me he was hung or something of the kind. but that's no reason i ought to be, is it?" "er, i don't know about that," muttered jimmy, with a sparkle in his fun-loving blue eyes. the good-byes were said, and the scouts started again toward the southeast. amos had given them full directions, so that there was no possibility of their going wrong. and as the day was far cooler than many they had experienced of late, all of them were feeling in fine spirits. they watched the buzzards lazily wheeling around high up in the heavens, apparently bent on finding out where they could get their next meal. "what a fine view they must have of the plain up there," harry happened to remark; "makes me think of when we went up with those aviators, who had the dirigible balloon near the border of death valley and were experimenting in dropping bombs down, just like will be done in the next big war between the nations, when battleships must give way to aeroplanes and submarines." "watch that hawk, will you!" cried jack, "see how he is chasing after that bird! i declare, it looks like he'd sure get his dinner." "how i hate hawks!" exclaimed jimmy, hotly, as he reached for his gun, "they're the pirates of the air, and just duck down on poor little birds whenever they feel like having a bite. hey! he got the innocent that rush, didn't he? oh! wouldn't i just like to get a shot at the murderer, though!" jimmy, of course, forgot this was the daily business of the hawk and that he only slew when he was hungry and not for pleasure. he also forgot that many men who call themselves _sportsmen_ persist in killing game or game fish long after they have reached the limit of disposing of the same for food and even throw the victims of their cruelty aside in heaps--the more shame to their claim to manhood. "well, perhaps you may have a chance to play the noble role of avenger," chuckled jack, "that is, if you can shoot straight; because you notice the hawk has now flown with his prey to that dead treetop and alighted there. jimmy, get your gun and show us what you can do." "just what i will," replied the other promptly. it was a pretty long shot for jimmy. he seemed to doubt his ability to do the needful, without having some sort of rest for his gun. "jack, will you do me a favor?" he asked. "sure i will, jimmy; just name it," was the reply. "be my gun rest, won't you now; because i'd like to do for that pirate the worst kind, but 'tis thinkin' i am that it's a bit too far for me. what i've gone through lately has made me hand a little unsteady, like." jack was accommodating enough to back up in front of the intended sharpshooter and arrange himself in such fashion that jimmy could rest his rifle on one of his shoulders. "there you are," he remarked, placing fingers in both ears, so that the report might not deafen him. "i'll hold as steady as gibraltar rock, jimmy, so if you miss you mustn't go and lay the blame on me, hear?" "easy now, and i'm off!" muttered the other, as he took aim. the sharp report sounded a couple of seconds later. "bully for you, jimmy!" shouted jack, immediately. "did i get him?" cried the delighted marksman. "did you!" echoed harry, "look at him circling down to the ground right now! you knocked him galley-west, i should say, if i was on a boat now. go and get your game, jimmy, and let's see the old buccaneer." "bring in the dinner he caught, too," remarked ned, "i'm curious to see what it is; because it didn't look like any wild bird around here." "and be careful how you handle the hawk, if he's only winged," warned jack, "for they can fight like all get-out, and the first thing he'll try to get at will be your eyes. knock him on the head, jimmy, before you handle him." "shucks! tell me somethin' i don't know!" laughed the other, starting off, gun in hand, toward the trees growing along the same stream that passed the door of hy adams' dugout, some three miles away. he came back after a little while carrying a dead hawk. "it was a fine shot, for a fact!" admitted jack, as he took the bird into his hands, the better to see where the bullet had struck. "what's that you've got besides, jimmy?" asked harry. "me to the foolish house if it don't make me think of a pet pigeon i used to have long ago," jimmy ventured. "it _is_ a pigeon," said ned, as he handled the dead bird that had been chased and captured by the hungry hawk. "what's that, ned; a tame pigeon out here on the plains?" jack questioned. "well, there are no wild pigeons any more, all gone," ned explained, "and this bird is a passenger pigeon or a carrier. you can see from the odd shape of its bill." "what they call a homing pigeon, you mean, don't you, ned?" asked harry. "just that," was the reply, "and here, as sure as you live, there's a message tied with a thread to his leg, right now. why, somebody must have been experimenting sending a message back home by this air post." "blast that old hawk, he spoiled the whole game!" muttered jimmy, wrathfully. "but stop and think, jimmy," harry told him, "if it hadn't been for the hawk you shot, we wouldn't have known about this thing at all. but there's ned opening the little piece of tissue paper on which the message is written. tell us about it, ned, won't you?" the scout master was staring at the thin piece of paper he had smoothed out, as though it contained certain information that interested him deeply. and as the other three scouts gathered around him, eagerly waiting until he took them more fully into his confidence, they seemed to feel as though the very air was charged with a fresh supply of mystery. chapter x. at double cross ranch. the first words spoken by ned added to the puzzle, for he turned to his chums and propounded a question. "did any of you happen to notice which way the pigeon was flying, before the hawk darted out from the trees and chased it?" "yes," jack informed him promptly, "i saw the bird coming away in the distance, and it was flying as straight as an arrow, when the hawk shot up out of the screen of the trees and made it swerve to try and escape; but it wasn't quick enough." "which way was it coming then?" asked ned. jack pointed toward the southeast. "right yonder and in the same direction we're heading," he replied. ned frowned and looked even more serious. "then it begins to look as though this messenger pigeon might have been freed from somewhere about your uncle's ranch, harry, and was making for its coop when the hawk killed it. you know they've been known to fly hundreds and hundreds of miles, even from new york to pittsburgh, and arrive safe, tired, and half-starved after a couple of days." "it always did beat my time how they did it," said jack, "though what you say is true, every word of it, ned. but what is there so stunning about the fact of this bird having been set loose at the ranch? some puncher may be a homing pigeon fancier and sends a bird to his home, many miles away, once in so often. it would be a great little stunt, i should think." "yes, ditto here," added harry, "so tell us why you think it's queer, ned." "on account of the message," replied the scout master. "well, we don't know what that is, so read it out!" urged jack. "all right, i will," ned told them, and then glancing down once more at the thin piece of paper he held he continued: "'some talk of both bosses going to w. soon. be ready to act. will let you know in time! chances good for big sweep! we count five!'" "glory hallelujah! what's all that patter mean?" gasped jimmy, who seemed unable to make head or tail out of the communication. jack and harry, however, realized that ned was about right when he said it looked as though there might be more in the message than appeared on the bare face. "you notice that it says _two_ bosses, don't you?" asked ned. "yes, and that must refer to my two uncles, colonel job haines and james henshaw?" harry suggested. "what does the w mean?" asked jack. "i think that must be a town on the railroad, where they ship the cattle in season," replied ned. "'be ready to act,' it goes on to say," jack continued, "which would make it appear as though the writer knew there was some sort of a raid contemplated." "a raid!" echoed jimmy, "faith, d'ye mean by rustlers?" "that's the only kind of raid cattlemen fear nowadays, since the wild animals have been well cleaned out and the reds stick to their reservations pretty much all the time," harry informed him, "but just to think of what this would stand for, if it's true." "a traitor or traitors employed at the double cross ranch," the scout master declared. "well that wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened. in fact, these cattle rustlers usually have means for learning all that is going on with the punchers. in that way, they manage to time their raids when most of the hands are away. seems that there might be quite a bunch of the hounds, because he mentions the fact that the party he's sending the message to can count on five to muss things up at the time the raid is engineered." harry laughed grimly. "perhaps, now, my uncle job won't be tickled half to death to get hold of this telltale message!" he gurgled. "if only he can find who wrote the same, it'll turn out to be his waterloo, believe me, if half i've heard about uncle job is true." "and that ought to be easy," remarked jack. "you mean, he could tell from the handwriting?" harry demanded. "yes, but there would be a better way than that," the other scout continued, as he gave ned a knowing nod. "'tis the pigeon, you must mean!" exclaimed jimmy. "that's it," jack acknowledged, "and surely a fellow couldn't keep birds like that and set one flying every once in so often, without others knowing about it. find the puncher who's got the homing pigeon fancy and you'll have the leader of the spies at the double cross, if that's where the bird started from." the scout master nodded his head approvingly. "that was well figured out, jack," he said, "and did your scout logic credit. a scout has got to keep his wits sharpened and not let anything slip past him, no matter how small it may seem. of course, the owner of the pigeon must be guilty; and, just as you say, it wouldn't be easy for him to carry on with his birds unless most of the other punchers knew about it." "but the message?" jimmy objected. "oh! they didn't see this one, but another that the fellow would be smart enough to get up, and _pretend_ to fasten to the leg of the air traveler," jack went on to say, in a way that showed how his mind had grasped the subject. ned carefully folded the tissue paper and put it safely away in his pocketbook. "that was the luckiest shot you ever made, i take it, jimmy," he remarked, turning to the freckled-faced chum, who immediately puffed his chest out in a ridiculous fashion and began to pretend to take on airs. "oh! the rest of you can do some stunts once in a coon's age," he told them, "but when it comes right down to taking the cake, you have to apply to your uncle jimmy. i managed to land there with both feet. luck and me, we're bedfellers, you see. but then, far from me 'twould be to boast. it was a fair shot, ned, i admit it. and the mcgraw luck held good." "you'll have to let me in on a little of that, jimmy," jack told him, "because you happened to be using my shoulder at the time, remember. only for that, chances are you'd have lost the hawk and we'd never have known that it was a homer he had caught for his lunch. "shake on that, jack; you're in," jimmy was quick to say. "but we'd better be going on, hadn't we?" harry asked. "because i'm more anxious now than ever to pull up at the ranch house." "yes," ned informed them, "we've got a long walk ahead of us yet. i'll do up the pigeon and the hawk to show your uncle, on the quiet, when there's no one else around. you see, he's apt to think we may be yarning, because it's a queer and fishy story, come to think of it; and the more proof we have the better." "takes you to look away ahead," declared jack; "now, like as not, i'd have tossed both birds away and then wished i hadn't later on. an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure, they say. the fellow who can think ahead takes the cake." "then i'm goin' to get busy and be that feller," jimmy assured them, "because i always did like cake." the forward march was resumed, with the three burros plodding along after their accustomed slow method of travel. they had to be urged frequently, with the tickle of a whip. the only times they showed traces of eagerness were when approaching places where water could be had, and then they almost ran. as the afternoon wore along, the scouts knew that they were drawing near a cattle ranch. many things told them this pleasing news. they found tracks of droves all about them on the grassy plain, and three times had they glimpsed a feeding herd in the swale, where some low hills joined the more level ground. "i can see houses among the trees ahead there!" announced ned, after he had had the field glasses up to his eye for a short time. all of them wanted to take a look, then, and great was the rejoicing when it was found to be true. "about two miles more of this weary hiking, and then good-bye to it!" jack gave as his opinion, in which the other joined. they took a fresh start after that, and it was not long before jimmy declared he could see a bunch of riders starting out from the trees and heading toward them. "they've sighted us," asserted ned, "and, of course, wonder who we can be; because harry here thought to take his uncles by surprise and didn't tell them when to expect us, except to say, we'd probably drop in on the ranch if down this way." "you see," harry went on to explain, "when i wrote last, it was from los angeles; and, about that time, i didn't feel so sure we'd ever get through alive." "first time i knew you felt worried," ned told him. "all of you seemed so dead set on carrying out the programme that i couldn't say what i thought." "you must mean," jack said, "that it looked silly and foolish to think we could cross the deserts and mountain canyons in that old rantankerous automobile?" ned laughed. "never mind what i thought," he remarked. "it's too late now to cry over spilt milk. we got through, didn't we? and we've had experiences that will always stay with us. that's enough. and, at last, we can see our goal just ahead." "hurrah for the double cross ranch!" exclaimed jimmy. the half-dozen cowboys came whirling toward them, shouting, swinging their hats, and riding as only punchers on the plains can. "remember, everybody," warned ned, "not a word about that hawk and pigeon episode." "we understand what you mean, ned," harry replied. presently the mad riders came galloping up in a cloud of alkali dust. "told you so, boys!" cried a tall rangy fellow, who sat his pony as though he might be a part of the animal--one of those centaurs of old. "ketch on to the scout togs, would you? say, are you harry stevens?" he had unconsciously picked out ned when asking this question, because he must have somehow seen that he was the leader; perhaps, it was partly from his looks; and, then again, the fact that ned had no burro to take care of, while all his companions did, may have had something to do with it. "no, but i'm his chum, ned nestor. that's harry over yonder, and i reckon now that we're glad to be at the double cross." "but where'd you come from, pard?" demanded the cowboy, who had thrown one leg over his saddle, the better to talk. "los angeles," replied ned, indifferently. at that the punchers stared and even exchanged various winks and nods. "not with them lazy burros, i opine, pard?" ventured the spokesman. "oh! no, we picked these up in the hills, buying them from prospectors, who had had enough and were meaning to go home," ned informed him. "that was after our automobile broke down and had to be abandoned, in the middle of the mojave desert," harry volunteered. the cow-puncher gave a whistle to indicate his surprise. ned noticed that his manner had changed somewhat, too. doubtless, because these boys were from the east and somewhat green with regard to ranch ways, he may have imagined, in the beginning, that they were genuine tenderfeet. he knew better now. any party of boys who could by themselves cross that terrible mojave desert and make their way down to this country bordering the colorado river, must surely be made of the right stuff. "get up behind me, ned, and ride the rest of the way; proud to have you join us. and we reckons as how we'll give you the time of your life while you're at the old double cross ranch." ned promptly accepted this invitation on the part of the lanky puncher, whom he heard called "chunky," probably because he was just the opposite; while a real fat roly-poly sort of a rider answered, when they addressed him as "skinny," which made it look as though these boys might have drawn the wrong slips out of the hat at the ranch christening. jack, harry and jimmy were all similarly accommodated with seats, while two other punchers promised to see that the pack animals got in. a wild ride they made of those two miles. the scouts clasped their arms around their new friends and held on for dear life; but none of them fell off and presently they found themselves in front of the ranch house. "sorry to tell ye, harry," announced the lanky puncher, "that both your uncles, together with a couple of the boys, has headed for the railroad, to fetch home a bunch of imported stock they sent for, meaning to improve the breed of our long horns. so ye'll have to wait two days or so before you see 'em; but aunt mehitabel, she's inside, and will make you all welcome, sure thing." with that the four punchers were off again, doubtless to attend to some of the duties they were hired to perform. the four boys stood there exchanging significant looks, as the sun drew near the distant western horizon. "looks some serious, don't it?" remarked harry. "both bosses have gone away just as that message said," jack observed. "i wonder, now, if these conspirators will try to send another communication to their rustler friends." "i'm afraid that has already been done," ned told them, "and we were powerless to stop it. because just as we rode up, i saw a pigeon flying in by circles high up in the air; then, as if it had gotten its bearings, it went off on a straight line into the northwest. that bird must have carried the news that the time to strike had come." chapter xi. the sheep and the goats. the scouts were now confronted by conditions calculated to keep them guessing at a lively rate. with both owners of the ranch away, to whom were they to communicate their alarming news? how could they know that in this telling the story, they might not be giving themselves away to one of the suspects? it was a situation calling for considerable head work and reasoning, so that a serious mistake might not be made in the start. what made it still more difficult to manage was the fact, which harry seemed to be aware of, that there was no real foreman on the place; colonel job himself filling that position, while james henshaw took other duties upon his shoulders. "how about telling your aunt mehitabel about it, harry?" ned asked, as they exchanged views and seemed to get no nearer a definite arrangement. "just what we'll have to do," replied the other chum, "and say, if only she'll agree to let us have a free hand, and tell the boys to do what we want, p'raps we might find some way yet to upset the game of the rustlers." "you just bet we will that!" said jimmy, with all the confidence of one whose lexicon knew no such word as fail. "the first thing we must do," ventured ned, seriously, "is to find out who it is sends these treacherous messages to parties that have evil designs on the herds of the double cross ranch." "them, you mean, don't you, ned," added jack, "because that message spoke of there being five all told who would look out and see that things were made easy picking." "well," spoke up jimmy, with a cunning leer, "sometimes you think i'm sleepy, but i notice that now and then i manage to wake up long enough to do my little stunt. his handle, it's ally sloper, by the same token." "who's that?" asked harry. "the dub that owns the homing pigeons," came the ready reply, which caused ned to smile and nod his head in approbation. "good work, jimmy!" he remarked, "you must have asked the fellow you rode in behind?" "just what i did, ned," jimmy told him. "i mentioned the fact that we had seen a pigeon flying, and then he says as how this same ally sloper he had got about five birds from a feller over in kingman, on the railroad beyond the opal and the blue ridge mountains down in arizona. he was told to let one go every little while, to see if they'd get safe home again. but, fellers, that place lies to the southeast as you know, and we saw that pigeon away off to the _northwest_ of here, which says ally sloper he just lies!" "that's a fine start," commended the scout master. "we know who the chief spy is, and it ought to be an easy thing to learn who his close pals seem to be, for like as not he'd stick only to those who are in the same boat with him." "sounds well to me, ned," jack remarked, after apparently turning the matter over carefully in his mind. "what's the game?" asked jimmy. "here's the way it stands," remarked ned, soberly. "that second message must have been sent to tell the gang that both bosses are away, and conditions looking good for a raid to-night." "whew! so soon as that?" ejaculated jack, drawing a long sigh, for he was pretty tired and had calculated on getting rested up between sunset and another dawn; if, as they suspected, there were going to be great goings-on around the cattle ranch before many hours, it was possible that they might be on the jump all night; but then, jack was a fellow who could stand considerable punishment without throwing up the sponge, and that intake of breath might simply mean a resolution to do his part in the drama. "if there was only some way now to round the cattle up and drive them into the stockades or corrals, so they could be guarded," ned continued, as though he might have been doing more or less planning before the critical moment arrived, "why, we might hold the fort until morning and not lose any of the herds." "do you suppose it could be done?" harry wanted to know. "i see no reason why not," came the sturdy reply. "it looked to me like the herds were grazing within a few miles of here, though there may be some further off. now, if the punchers only got the fever on them, i've no doubt they could round the steers and cows up and get them in the stockade long before the rustlers would think of coming along." "there's one bully thing about it," ventured harry, smilingly. "we're going to have a full moon to-night, and a cattle drive will be a picnic. if it was pitch dark, or stormy, it might be a different story. the scout luck holds good. things may look a bit gloomy for a while, but we get there in the end." "i'll tell you one reason why it's important that we should find out just who the cronies of this ally sloper are," continued ned. "it would be a bad thing now if we sent the whole five out in a batch, because, believing their game was up and that it would be unsafe for them to ever come back here, chances are they would take advantage of their opportunity to run off a herd while about it." "might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb--is that what you mean, ned?" jack asked. "yes, about that way," the scout master replied. "on the other hand, if they are broken up, and only one sent out with each bunch of punchers to corral the herds, these spies will not be able to work anything crooked. we'll draw their claws, as you might say, and make them harmless." "here comes my aunt," harry broke in with, as a large woman brushed out of the doorway of the commodious ranch house and approached them. she was an amiable woman, they could see at first glance; but ned fancied that, in an emergency, aunt mehitabel would not prove capable of gripping the reins. no doubt, during all her married life she had depended on her able husband to manage things on the outside, being content on her part to see that things moved along regularly within doors, and that meals came on time. she greeted harry warmly and was also delighted to meet his chums, all of whom she urged to go inside the house with her. but the occasion was so serious that ned did not wish to waste any more time than was absolutely necessary. "we've come to make you quite a little visit, ma'm," ned remarked, after she had urged them to make themselves at home, and do whatever they pleased, "and later on we expect to have a great time riding around the country and seeing things. but it is unfortunate that neither one of harry's uncles is home right now, because we've got some very important news." the lady of the house looked worried at once, just as ned had anticipated would be the case. "oh! what can it be?" she asked, her voice showing traces of nervousness. "on the way our chum, jimmy here, happened to shoot a hawk that had pounced down on a flying pigeon. wrapped around one of the pigeon's legs was a piece of tissue paper, and bearing a message. i have it here with me, and both the hawk and the pigeon are in one of our packs on the burros. this message was not signed, but it plainly announced that there are five untrustworthy men employed on this place who are in league with cattle rustlers." "mercy on us, you don't say! and the colonel away, too! whatever will become of us now?" mrs. haines started to wail, when ned smilingly went on to soothe her by remarking: "but here are four stout boys, ready to do their level best to upset the plans of these cattle thieves, if given half a chance, ma'm. now, in this message, it is promised that if the conditions look favorable, another line will be sent, the same way as this was. and as we came up we saw a pigeon flying into the west, so we take it for granted that has been done, and the rustler crowd will get busy between now and sun-up." "the herds are all out on the range, unfortunately, and it is too late now to get them in," the lady went on to say, dejectedly. "oh! how unfortunate that you did not arrive a few hours ago, when my husband would have been here to take charge of things, for we have no foreman, you know." "it may not be too late, even now, to get the herds rounded up and brought in to the corral where the boys can guard them," ned told her. she looked at him admiringly, doubtless impressed, as many others had been before then, with his manly bearing and the resolute look on his face. "i really believe that if any one could manage it, you could, my son!" she said, with a simplicity and ardor that caused the warm glow to spread over ned's face. "with what assistance you might give us, mrs. haines, we believe we can save the cattle from this threatened raid," he continued, calmly. "and first of all it is of the utmost importance that we learn just who these other four punchers may be who are hand in glove with ally sloper--the man who has sent the pigeon messenger." "oh! so he is the one?" she cried, "and i never could bear the sight of his face, because of the cast in that evil eye of his. but job always laughed at me, and said ally sloper was one of the best men he had on the place. what do you want me to do, for you said i could help you win out?" "first of all, in the absence of your husband and harry's other uncle," began the scout master, just for all the world, jimmy thought, like a great general, such as napoleon or grant, laying out his campaign, "it seems as if the men would take orders from you. am i right there? "yes, it has happened a few times, but i would not have known a thing about what to do, only for chunky's advice," she told him. "oh! you can rely on chunky then, can you?" asked ned, quickly, for that was one of the points he wanted settled, because a great deal depended on it. "always. my husband would trust him with his life. if ever we do have a foreman at the double cross, chunky will be the one." "i'm glad to hear that, because i rode in behind him, and somehow i fancied he would be the one to confide in. please send out for him as soon as you can, ma'm, because we have little time to waste. i hope to learn from chunky just who the other four traitors are, for he will have noticed how this ally sloper picks out his friends. birds of a feather flock together, you know; and these fellows would feel safer if they kept in constant touch with each other." the other scouts approved of what ned was doing, as their manner of nodding at different times indicated. they knew that their leader was equal to running things, even though he might not know so much about the working of a cattle ranch. and in times gone by they had seen him pitted against what seemed to be overwhelming odds, to win out in the end; so that they had unbounded confidence in whatever he started to do. the rancher's wife left them for a minute, and presently came back to say that she had sent out the chink cook, chin-chin charlie, to find chunky, and tell him to come right to the house on important business. "we'll get this working pretty soon, i think," jack declared, with animation. "and they'll just have to hunt up some broncs for the lot of us to straddle, too," added harry. "tell me about that," chuckled jimmy. "how glad i'll be to mount a fiery charger and dig me heels into his flanks, after all this terrible walkin' the lot of us have been doin' lately. i do be wishin' chunky'd hurry. if he's gone off now, and couldn't be found at the bunkhouse, we'll be in a nice pickle, sure." "don't worry, because i think he's coming," ned told him. just as he said, this lanky puncher came up on the verandah of the ranch. he was quickly put in possession of the facts, and expressed himself in forcible terms concerning the alleged treachery of ally sloper and his four allies. "i c'n put a hand on the hull blooming lot," he declared, "because it happens as how that same ally has been keepin' company with jest four punchers. they are lefty louie, coyote smith, bob caruso that the boys calls robinson crusoe, and tinplate george--all clever punchers, but mighty slick articles at that. if miss haines sez as how we take our orders from you, ned, just give the word, and you'll see them warts arounded up like grease." "oh! well, we ought to go to extremes only as a last resort, i think," said mrs haines, who dreaded lest there be some shooting in making the arrest, and that some of the boys who were her favorites would get hurt. "ned has a plan that might answer the same purpose. tell him about it, ned, please." so the scout master unfolded his scheme. "how many herds are there on the range just now, chunky?" he asked. "four, all told, with a smattering of others that don't 'mount to much." "suppose, then, you make me out a list of the punchers, so that there will be one of these suspects with every bunch, not counting ally sloper," ned continued. "hello! i'm beginnin' to tumble to the game and, let me say, it fills the bill first-class," was the quick comment of the lanky one. he gave the names to ned as rapidly as the other could write them down; and it was speedily arranged, so that of the four parties one of the conspirators had been designated to accompany each. as for ally himself, it did not matter much what he did, though they must keep him under surveillance, lest he upset all their cleverly laid plans by cutting the corral or, in some other fashion, rendering it impossible to keep all the hundreds of longhorns near the ranch house, where they could be guarded. all this was fixed up in a very short space of time and then ned declared they ought to get busy. the sun was sinking toward the western horizon; but they knew there was going to be no period of darkness, because the moon was full, which meant that it would rise exactly at sunset. "we can eat after we've got those herds rounded up and safe in the corral, not before," was ned's ultimatum, when mrs. haines spoke about supper; and this caused one long face to make itself seen among the scouts, for jimmy dearly loved his feed. chapter xii. nipping a mutiny. once chunky knew what was expected of him, and he proved that he could do things with a hurricane rush. most cow-punchers are of his stripe, and speed is a mania on the range. "first thing i'll run out some ponies for you young fellers to mount," he told the scouts, as he turned to leave the verandah where the short talk had taken place. "me for a piebald mustang!" called out jimmy, "i've somehow had that in my mind ever since i set eyes on that speckled pony belongin' to amos. fix me up that way, if you want to see me happy, mister chunky." and greatly to jimmy's delight, he was later on given just such a mount as he called for; though as for ned, he did not wholly fancy the peculiar whitish eyes that were a feature of the fancy looking beast. he imagined that the animal had an ugly temper, if crossed, and hoped that jimmy might not rue the day he yearned for a mottled cow pony. meanwhile the big bell had been clanged that would serve as a signal to tell all on the place that their presence was immediately desired. they came trooping out of the bunk house and from the direction of the corral, where it chanced they had been busily engaged at the time. curiosity could be seen stamped on most of their bronzed faces. ned looked for the man called ally sloper, and who had been described to him so cleverly that he fancied he could pick him out among the throng. even if he had not been advised beforehand, he knew he could have settled upon the man; because, while nearly all the others seemed jolly and carefree, his face bore a dark frown. ned believed the man suspected something; that he feared this hasty and unusual summons might interfere with the cunning scheme engineered for that night. and while not appearing to watch the puncher at all, ned could easily see that he made frequent signals, when he thought himself unobserved, to several others, whom ned also marked down as the secret allies of the rustler's spy. these things, while seemingly unimportant, were really of considerable consequence, because much depended on their keeping the traitors from communicating with their friends in the hills. "is that sloper with the hat on the back of his head?" he asked chunky, in a low tone, as the men were coming up. "yes, and the one with him is lefty louie; that sneak trailin' along at his heels is coyote smith. bob caruso is the feller larfin' right now, and which makes him look like he could swallow a heifer easy; and tinplate george is at the end of the bunch, limpin' some, 'count of a fling he got yesterday with a buckin' broncho. got 'em all sized up now, have ye, ned?" "yes, and tell mrs. haines to start the circus right away, chunky," was the reply. the rancher's wife had been nervously waiting for a sign. she now stepped forward and held up her hand, so that all noise ceased, and the men listened eagerly, for their curiosity had been greatly excited. "during the absence of colonel haines and mr. henshaw, you are to take your orders from this young man here, ned nestor, and through chunky, who will act as temporary foreman. an emergency has arisen, making it very necessary that all our herds be rounded up immediately and driven into the big corral, where they can be guarded to-night. ask no questions, but do your duty as employees of this ranch. that is all i wish to say, and i feel sure that every one of you will understand that i am in consultation with those i have put in charge and that it is my wishes they are carrying out." the punchers stared at each other. they could, of course, give a pretty good guess what this must mean, for the only real danger that could be feared at this time of year would be from rustlers. as a rule, they were a jolly lot of carefree fellows, willing to work double one day and loaf the next, as the occasion arose; it was all in the line of business with them. ned had been watching ally sloper out of the tail of his eye. he saw the man scowl like a pirate of the spanish main. of course, this was going to interfere seriously with all the well-laid plans between the spies and their rustler allies. they may have waited a long time for this very chance, when both proprietors of the ranch would be away at the same time; and, now that it had come, to be balked in their designs was enough to throw such a tempestuous man into a fury. "he's going to make trouble right away, ned," whispered jack in the ear of the scout master. "let him try it, and see what he runs up against, that's all," ned replied, as he watched ally sloper pushing his way to the front. somehow the other four did not follow him. they were wise enough to realize that such a move might expose them to suspicion. if sloper chose to protest against being sent out on the range at this late hour of the day, that was his privilege; but there was no necessity for them to show their hand so early in the game. they knew what the anger of cow-punchers was like and had a healthy respect for it. before the advancing man could get near enough to say anything, chunky began to speak as though he did not notice this aggressive movement. "i'll head one party, and with me will go arizona tom, dutchy, ally sloper and two of the visitors at the ranch. skinny will take another party to bring in the herd from the alfalfa prairie," and so he went on apportioning the men, placing one he could positively trust at the head of each detachment, and making sure that each squad held a "suspect." it had all been well laid out, and in the strongest bunch, consisting of seven riders, two of the unfaithful lot had been included. each party had been given a particular herd to manage, so that the work could be carried out in systematic order. of course, chunky intended to give the several leaders a quiet tip before they started out, so that they could keep an eye on the suspects and thwart any move that looked as though they meant to slip away, or send warning to their friends in the hills. sloper had stood and listened to what chunky said. evidently it confirmed what suspicions he may have already had concerning the breaking up of their plot. and he would have been a stupid man not to have connected the coming of the scouts with this sudden move, looking to a round-up that had not been ordered by the proprietors of the big ranch. some of the men had started to hurry away; others stood there in a half-hesitating way, as though they had noticed the belligerent attitude of ally sloper and wished to see what he meant to do. he may have given trouble on other past occasions and was only kept on account of his acknowledged skill as a puncher. "hold on there, chunky, i want to say as i aint agoin' out on the range with ye this time. i reckons as how i've done a good hard day's work a'ready. 'sides that, take it from me straight that i don't mean to look to a _kid_ like this here newcomer for my boss. i'm alayin' down on the job for onct, see?" "no, i don't see, sloper," returned the emaciated puncher, facing the other, a gleam in his eyes that was not nice to watch. "are you sick?" "what, me? did ye ever know me to be sick? no, 'taint that. i jest don't keer to work any more to-day. i'm agoin' to the bunk house an' lie down to smoke." "you're goin' out on the range with me, sloper, hear that?" gritted chunky, as he faced the other defiantly. "you heard the rancher's wife give her orders; and, also, the fact that she says as how we are all to look to this young chap as her representative; likewise that i'm to advise him, seein' as how he ain't well up in range ways. i've selected _you_ to be in my party. i want you for a good many reasons, one o' which are that you ain't got anything on me when it comes to roundin' up longhorns. so make up your mind you're agoin' out and help git that prize herd in from the washout coulie." "i don't take my orders from any snip like that, i tell you, and i ain't agoin' to stand for you bein' foreman here, chunky, understand that!" the mutineer rasped, while four other punchers moved a little closer and waited to see how their ally came through, before they tried to copy his tactics; if he succeeded, they could follow suit; whereas, should he make a failure, they were at liberty to draw back and hold their horses for a more convenient season. "oh! is that so, sloper?" remarked the tall puncher, quickly, "an' tell me how you expect to keep from goin' out on the range with my party?" "i throw up my job right here, see?" almost shouted sloper. "you get what i says, don't you? you can't order me around, when i'm a free agent. and i ain't workin' for the double cross people any more. i'm done." "oh! yes, you are," sneered chunky. "we'll just look into that, sloper. i reckons as how colonel job fixed things so he could count on _your_ services a certain time. you're under contract here. mrs. haines, kin you tell me how much longer sloper's agreement to work for the owners of the double cross ranch, or whoever they chose to app'nt foreman here, has to run?" "just two months more," replied the colonel's wife, who kept the books of the ranch and, therefore, knew all about the dealings with all the hands. "that settles it then, sloper," said chunky. "we need your services right bad to git them cattle into the stockade. and let me tell you right here, you're agoin' out on the range with us now and work alongside the rest of the boys, or somethin' is likely to happen right suddent." he carelessly let his hand slip around to the butt of his gun while saying this. jimmy and, perhaps harry, anticipated seeing some fireworks, because they thought sloper was a gunfighter; but ned could read character better and he had already decided that the man had a craven soul back of all his bluster. so he was not at all surprised to see him quail before the steady gaze of chunky. "this is a raw deal you're givin' me, chunky!" he muttered. "i'm doin' jest what colonel job'd do if he was on the spot, and one of his contract men tried to lay down on him," retorted the other positively. "after he gits back, if you care to take it up with him, ye kin do it. but while i'm runnin' things, alongside o' this younker here, you'll do your part, or i'll know the reason why. now, boys, git your ponies and we'll be off. thar's a heap o' hard work to do afore we kin take things easy." he managed matters so that he could say a few words to skinny and the other two dependable punchers who had been placed in charge of the third and fourth parties. they were told to keep a watchful eye on the suspected ones, though there was no time to explain just why. but, after all, there could be but one reason for giving this warning, and skinny, as well as the other leaders, were able to figure it out. they had already guessed that news had come concerning a contemplated foray on the part of rustlers and that these men were suspected of being hand in glove with the lawless night runners of cattle. there was presently a bustling scene as the punchers saddled their ponies and prepared for hard work out on the range. chunky managed to keep close to ally sloper all of the time and the man, seeing this, did not dare venture anything like flight, lest he be followed by a shower of bullets. orders were given for ponies for the four scouts and it was not long before they found themselves mounted on frisky bronchos, which it took all their skill to manage. but fortunately all of them had done considerable riding in times past, so that they did themselves credit. and doubtless the punchers had picked animals that, according to their way of thinking, were exceedingly docile, though quite lively enough to suit ned and his chums. there was jimmy grinning from the back of a beautifully spotted animal, and apparently as happy as any one could be. he had found a way to sling his gun, so as to have both hands free to manage the mount; and, truth to tell, there were times when jimmy was apt to wish he had a third hand in the bargain, for the calico pony proved to be the most unruly one of the quartette. all this was done in a comparatively short time, because each puncher looked out for himself. harry and jack were to accompany skinny's bunch, while jimmy and ned meant to be with chunky. this arrangement satisfied the scout master, who felt that if there was anything going on it was apt to be in connection with that detachment which had ally sloper on its roll call. and, as usual, ned wanted to be on the firing line when things were happening. owing to various causes chunky's bunch was the last to get away. in three separate directions could be seen little clouds of alkali dust in which the reckless riders had vanished, heading for the feeding grounds of the herds, to which they had been assigned. as these lay some miles away, and the task of rounding up the cattle, as well as driving them on the return trip, would consume considerable time, it was not expected that the first of the herds would reach the stockade until the moon was several hours high. when ned and jimmy galloped forth, keeping close to the other four riders, they turned in the saddle to wave to the stockman's wife, who stood on the piazza, to see the last of them off, with the chinese cook close by, and also a couple of women, who were also employed in the house. the scout master believed he had reason to feel satisfied, because he had been allowed to balk the treacherous designs of those who would have sacrificed the property of their employer by sending word to the cattle rustlers. but as his eye wandered over to where the sullen ally sloper sat his saddle, ned knew that this was hardly the end. a man of his double nature was not apt to throw up his hands and acknowledge himself beaten, just because he had been knocked down in the first round. "he'll bear close watching," was ned's mental comment, "and even then chances are he may find a way to slip us, when the excitement of rounding-up the steers and the cows is on. but once we get the herd started home, i don't believe he'd be able to do us any great harm, if he did skip out. still, chunky is dealing with the hound and i mustn't interfere." chapter xiii. at washout coulie. "is it very far we have to go for our herd, ned?" asked jimmy, as he galloped along briskly at the side of his chum, managing the calico pony pretty fairly for one who had never been used to range riding and knew very little about the tricks of cow ponies. "yes, i believe further than any others of the lot," ned told him. "i heard some mention of a washout coulie; is that where we're headin' right now; and why d'ye reckon they give it such a funny name?" jimmy continued. "we're making for a place of that name, i understood chunky to say," the accommodating scout master replied, "and he spoke as though their best herd might be using that section for a feeding ground just now; but why they call it washout coulie, i'm unable to say." "a coulie is always connected with some sort of hill, isn't it, ned?" "strikes me that way, jimmy, and, as you know there _are_ hills over this way, for we could see them when we came from the west and struck the ranch. it might be the name came from a washout that happened some time ago. they don't get much rain in this region, but once in a long time there's a regular cloudburst and a flood." jimmy might have tried to keep the conversation going, for there were a number of things he wanted to ask the scout master; but it happened that the obstreperous calico pony developed a streak of ugliness just about that time and, consequently, jimmy had all he could do to manage the beast so as to keep his seat in the cowboy saddle. the sun had set shortly after they started away from the ranch, and the sky took on the brightest red colors that could be imagined. but neither of the boys felt in a humor to admire the view. they had business on their hands of a nature to engross their every thought--jimmy, with the control of his vicious mottle mount; and ned, in calculating what the ill-natured suspect might attempt, in order to outwit those who were pitted against him. night settles down promptly after sunset in this far southern country, there being very little gloaming, such as people living in more northern latitudes are accustomed to. but as the moon was due to peep above the eastern horizon in short time this was not apt to give them any trouble. besides, chunky and his riders knew every rod of the plain and could easily avoid such places, where the prairie dogs had their underground homes and which have been the means of breaking the legs of many valuable horses. ned had already noticed how careful chunky was to keep in a certain position on the gallop. here he could watch sloper and at the same time be ready to draw quickly upon him should the suspect attempt any crooked business. "he doesn't trust the man any further than he can see him," ned was telling himself, as he noticed this game that was being played between the two men; and, at the same time, he meant to try and keep his own eye on the slippery customer, in so far as the conditions would allow. the evening star shone in the western sky and they were making in a straight line away from it, ned noticed. this told him what the course was. while jimmy was apparently paying not the least attention to such things, content to trust himself in the hands of the puncher guide, ned believed in knowing for himself. there might arise an occasion where he would be thrown on his own resources; and, in such an event, it would be a valuable asset to know just which way to head, in order to fetch up at the ranch house. that was scout tactics and scout practice--being prepared against possible need. and now over the low rim in the far east, where the squatty hills lay against the sky line, a yellow glow began to appear. it was the moon rising to fulfill a night's vigil as sentinel while men slept. ned greeted it as an old friend, and jimmy, too, expressed his satisfaction over seeing it come upon the scene, for jimmy and darkness never did agree, and that was one reason he always wanted to keep the fire burning through the night while in camp, during the period when there was no moon. as they drew closer to the hills, ned began to calculate just about how many miles they would have to drive the herd once they managed to round it up and get it on the run for home. he knew from what he had been told that what had taken them not more than an hour to cover, as the crow flies, would mean at least four times that length of time with the cattle. perhaps, they would not be in until midnight had come and gone. and who could say what might not happen in the long interval. he wondered how far the rustlers were ready to go, in order to run off a herd that had excited their cupidity and, whether in case they happened to come up while the punchers were busily engaged, they might not attempt something like a stampede, hoping to frighten the few cowboys off, when they could make way with the cattle. "i'm glad we brought our rifles along with us," ned was telling himself, as he studied out these things and tried to imagine what it would seem like to actually find himself engaged in a regular battle with cattle thieves. he urged his pony forward enough to bring him close to chunky. "how much further do we have to go, chunky?" ned inquired. "be there in about ten minutes or so," came the reply. "gotter kinder sheer off a bit hereabouts on 'count of them ornery marmots what makes it unsafe for a pony to run over their holes. been tryin' to clean this village out a long time, but they seem too smart for the hull lot o' us. if so be ye wanter practice usin' a rifle ye'll find plenty to shoot at in knockin' these little runts over; and do the stockmen a big favor in the bargin." "we'll remember that," ned told him, though he rather fancied that during their stay at double cross ranch he and his three chums would want to do most of their hunting for larger game than poor little harmless prairie dogs. jimmy had forged ahead slightly, or rather his impatient and ambitious mount had taken the bit in its mouth and pulled a little harder than usual. it may have been accident, but to ned it seemed as though ally sloper must have some vicious idea in his mind when he suddenly flung his quirt vigorously out, apparently intending to give his own pony a cruel cut, and then struck the calico mount ridden by jimmy. perhaps he thought to create a little excitement if the beast ran away with its rider, during which he might find a chance to slip off unobserved. ned, as quick as a flash, dug his heels into his own pony, and was alongside jimmy almost as soon as the spotted beast started to leap wildly forward under the impetus of that blow from the quirt, something he had never stood for in the past. when he bent down and seized hold of the bridle close to the pony's mouth ned was uttering soothing words. between his efforts and those of the rider, the pony was kept from bolting, though it snorted and acted ugly. "i'm afraid you'll have to pay dear for picking out that calico nag, jimmy," ned told his chum, when they were riding along side by side after the little matter had been settled for the time being. "'tis too late to make any difference," replied the other scout; "and do you remember tellin' me once that it's no time to change mounts when crossin' a stream? now that i've started on this painted pony i'll stick to the same through good winds and foul. if the little cayuse c'n dump me, he's welcome to try, that's all." evidently jimmy's old stubborn nature was on deck again. he did hate to give anything up the worst kind; though he admitted that there were some exceptions to this rule and one of them was whenever he found himself on a sickening heaving sea. "i hope the cattle will be found feedin' in the place they called a coulie?" jimmy went on to say a minute later, as he strove earnestly to make out the conformation of the low hills they were approaching. now ned had just been wondering on his own account what chunky expected to do in case the herd had wandered away. would he start to follow them, making use of his training as a tracker in order to stick to the trail the animals would have left behind them? ned believed so. he had studied the lanky puncher well, and found evidences of great pertinacity in his make-up. chunky would not be the one to quit easily. on the contrary, ned felt positive he would keep moving if it took the remainder of that night. "chances are they'll not wander far away, jimmy," he told the other scout, who was evidently beginning to cross bridges before he came to them, as was his habit, and so attempt more or less unnecessary work. "but i don't hear any signs of the critters, do you, ned?" continued jimmy. "why no, and you couldn't hardly expect to, what with all the noise we're making," ned replied, shortly; "though the wind is coming almost in our faces, and seems like we might hear if a bull bellowed. but leave all that to chunky. he knows what to do, jimmy. just look out for your pony, and keep close by; that's all you've got to do." gradually the hills assumed more shape, and they could even make out the trees that covered their sides in most quarters. "that dark place ahead must be the coulie opening," ned suggested. "just what it is," replied the lanky rider, "you foller it up a ways and all of a sudden-like you drop in on one of the finest little valleys that cattle ever nosed about in, knee-high in grass that ain't the buffalo stripe neither, and with a fine spring that sends its water down the hull place. we ain't got anythin' ekal to it for a harbor for cattle this side o' the colorado. that's why we turned our prize herd in here, to pick up a little fat before the kunnel he ships the same off to a show." that was quite a long talk for chunky to make. he was a man of few words as a rule and bit his sentences off as though it pained him to run on for any great length of time. ned understood. and he was glad that he had come with the man who was now temporarily in charge of double cross ranch. where chunky happened to be things were more apt to take place than elsewhere. now it was very likely that the waiting rustlers must have known all about this unusually fine herd. even if they had failed to locate it on their own account, while galloping around the country, ally sloper would have put them wise. if they were figuring on making way with any portion of the double cross property shortly, it stood to reason that they would turn their attention first of all to this valuable drove. the moon had risen above the horizon and was pouring a flood of light upon the scene. ned could not remember when it had appeared more radiant. he fancied that they would have very little trouble in making the round-up and drive, if only nothing happened to break up their well laid plans. no doubt when they had arrived at the bottom of the coulie chunky would order a short halt, in order to let the ponies get their wind again. and during that time they could be using their ears to catch any sounds that might come from up the gully, such as the mooing of cows that had calves, the bellowing of a bull, or the clashing as horns beat against horns in a fierce fight for possession. sloper was still in line. he had not turned his face once toward chunky since starting from the ranch, and it was natural that he should be laboring under a high tension, possibly arranging scheme after scheme, only to cast them away when he discovered weak points. ned believed the fellow was only waiting to see what circumstances would do for him; and he felt that should the opening come he would be as quick as a flash to avail himself of it. well, here they were now at the foot of the hills, and apparently their fast gallop must be near its end. jimmy would not be sorry. he was sore with being bounced about in that hard saddle, though no one could have forced him to admit that he was having anything but a glorious time. but jimmy was always full of grit, and disdained to call for help unless it could not possibly be avoided. he would master that fancy calico pony, or know the reason why. "hold up!" when chunky called this out every one drew rein. they were undoubtedly in the mouth of a coulie, which was merely a gully through which at various times in the ages that had passed floods had swept down the side of the hills, and following a set course washed this bed clear. later on bushes and even trees had managed to obtain a foothold and seemed to thrive. the horses were breathing heavily, as the six riders sat in their saddles and listened eagerly to catch any sounds that might come down from the feeding plateau above. there was no lack of noise, as the two scouts quickly understood. and if cattle made all those sounds while feeding ned wondered what it would be under stress of excitement and panic, when stampeded by a storm, or from some other cause. he could hear much trampling, low bellowing, the mooing of cows fearful lest they be separated from their calves, and a confusion of other sounds of which, being more or less of a greenhorn on the range, he could make nothing. but it was different with chunky and the other punchers. their trained ears, accustomed to detecting even uneasiness in feeding stock, and guessing the cause, instantly picked up several things that told them the startling truth. when ned himself plainly heard the neigh of an excited horse, and then what appeared to be a half suppressed shout, he jumped to a sudden conclusion that very nearly took his breath away. something not down on the hills was certainly going on up there, where the prize herd fed. there were men there and they were stirring up the cattle, for the snap of whips could be heard together with various other sounds such as ned fancied might accompany the start of a drive. he could give a pretty good guess what it all meant, and did not have to wait for chunky to pass the information along. some other persons besides themselves had taken a notion to start a round-up that was not ordered, and right then were busily engaged in getting things moving. apparently the punchers had not arrived any too soon, for the rustlers were undoubtedly abroad; and had the range riders been delayed another half hour they must have arrived at washout coulie to find the feeding grounds bare, and discover that the herd had mysteriously vanished! chapter xiv. stampeding the prize bunch. "steady, ally, and don't try it!" chunky was saying in a low but tense voice. he seemed to have suspected that the treacherous puncher would be greatly excited over the fact that his friends were at work above, and might take considerable chances in order to let them know the men from the double cross had arrived on the scene of action unannounced. they gathered in a little clump. the other two punchers must have guessed why chunky was acting in this way toward sloper, for they eyed the latter suspiciously, and ned could see that arizona tom had his heavy gun in his hand, as though ready to use it promptly should the other try to dash away without authority. "seems like we didn't get here any to soon, hey, ned?" ventured jimmy, with one of his hoarse whispers. "same old luck keeps after us," was the reply of the scout master; "as long as that holds good i should worry more for the other fellow than on our account." "it's them pesky rustlers that have hit up a hot pace, and got on the ground ahead o' us," chunky was growling; and then, as though his humor changed, he went on to add: "but say, mebbe we won't give 'em the surprise o' their lives." "then you'll tackle the bunch, even if they number more than we do?" asked ned, seeking information while they waited for a move on the part if those who were so busily engaged up the coulie. "shucks! it wouldn't stop us if they was three to our one," chunky answered, with the freedom from concern that usually marks the true cowman. "if we can surprise the critters the advantage'll lie with us. and let me say right now that it won't be safe for any feller to get gay, and give a yip, or let his gun go off by accident, 'cause another is apt to drop into the habit, which is a bad one." that last was undoubtedly meant for ally sloper. he could be heard gnashing his strong white teeth in sullen anger, but he did not venture to let out a warning whoop so as to tell his friends they were up against it. ned could not blame him, for he fancied that it might have been the last shout ally would ever make, because this was a serious business, betraying the interests of his employer, and should he be shot no blame would ever be attached to the one carrying out the punishment. "move over this way a leetle," said chunky, presently, as though he knew just how the cattle and their drivers must issue forth from the mouth of the coulie when the time came, and meant to set the trap so as to take the rustlers off their guard. "whew! tell me about this, will you?" jimmy was breathing in the ear of his companion scout, as they tried to keep their ponies quiet, sitting in the shadow of the trees, and listening to all the clamor that arose further up the slope of the hill. "if you think this is exciting, jimmy," remarked ned, "wait till the climax comes along, and then see what happens. to think of our getting in a lively affair like this the very first night we're at the ranch. and somebody said all the fun was in the past. looks like we find it wherever we go." "well, you never spoke truer words, ned," admitted jimmy; "and honest now, i'm tremblin' all over right at this minute, not because i'm scared a whiff, for you know i ain't, but just on account of the strain. oh! i hope they don't take a notion to slip away up the coulie 'stead of droppin' down and takin' their medicine like men." "listen! they're coming, i do believe, jimmy!" "sounds like it, ned. i never had the pleasure of handin' it out to a cattle rustler, but i've heard they are pretty tough citizens; and in case i do have to puncture a few with disabling wounds it needn't keep me awake nights. them longhorns has got to be saved, and we're here to do it." "stow your gab, jimmy, and be ready to do what you're told. chunky gives the orders for the entertainment, remember, and be quick to act. yes, the cattle have been headed this way. they're running down the coulie right now!" with the increasing noise the excitement grew apace. both scouts shut their teeth hard together, and awaited the breaking of the crisis. the oncoming herd was drawing closer with every second that passed. undoubtedly those who were driving them out of the feeding ground knew that this was the only way by means of which the herd could be started, because further up the coulie merged into a blind canyon that must have proven a trap. if there had been the slightest doubt in any one's mind before now concerning the truth, it would have been dissipated when the loud voices of men came floating down, with the crash of many cloven hoofs and the protestations from the unwilling cattle, doubtless preparing to settle down for the night when this drive was started. chunky must have been aware of the fact that it would be next to impossible to keep watch over ally sloper when the crisis dawned. perhaps he really did not care so much, whether the other escaped or not, since he could no longer upset the plans they had laid, by giving warning. and on his part sloper may have figured that he could not afford to openly prove himself a traitor by fleeing. he could not know that they had any positive proof of his double dealing, and just suspicion he could live down. so he might even act as though he were an honest man and carry out his part in the work of saving the threatened herd. his life counted for more than the success of his allies in the raid. he could make new connections with other schemers; but once he had been strung up to a telegraph pole by furious punchers he could not get a new life. the noise grew more distinct, and at any minute now ned expected to see a mass of moving animals come out of the dark mouth of the coulie. he took it for granted that the cattle raiders were to be treated harshly, for he knew what a contempt honest punchers felt toward those who would carry off four-footed property belonging to others, and changing the brand, sell it as if it were their own. that meant more or less gunfire; it might be that wounds would be received as well as given, for these rustlers were a dare-devil lot, and no doubt ready to fight desperately before giving up their ill-gotten gains. this did not cause ned to quail. he had received his baptism of fire long ago, and for one of his age had been through so much of excitement that he might almost be called a veteran. nevertheless he was thrilled with the thought of surprising the thieves, and his heart beat much more rapidly than usual as he sat in his saddle, keeping a firm grip on his pony, and holding his rifle ready for quick action. yes, they are coming very fast now. the clatter of cloven hoofs, and all those other accompanying sounds, told this plainly. ned wondered how many of the raiders there might turn out to be. he tried to count the different kinds of shouts and whoops, but found this next to impossible. "what does it matter," he told himself, finally; "just as chunky said, if we take them by surprise the advantage is all with us? five or ten, we'll send them flying over the plain, thinking they've run foul of the whole double cross outfit. jimmy, when the time comes to cut loose yelpt like a fiji islander, or anything else that makes a big noise; get that?" "you wait," was all jimmy replied, but there was a world of meaning back of the words, and ned knew he would do his duty. "there they come!" said one of the cow punchers just then. out from the shadows of the coulie burst a string of cattle on the run. they had been started with difficulty, but once the excitement began to work there would be no restraining them until weariness caused them to stop their flight. chunky was eagerly watching to see how they turned. he doubtless anticipated that one or more of the rustlers would be seeking to head off, and then would be the time to open fire, so as to create a small-sized panic among the cattle raiding crowd. "gee whiz! but i'm awonderin' what this beast'll do when i let go with the gun right over his head!" jimmy remarked just about that time, which seemed to indicate that he believed he had cause for worry. "keep a tight hold of your bridle; that's all you can do," the scout master advised, without removing his eyes from the picture that was enlarging with each passing second, as more cattle came running out of the coulie, and followed the leaders. from the midst of the lowing herd there suddenly burst two horsemen. they were swinging their hats, waving their arms, and evidently shouting at the top of their shrill voices, with the object of turning the running herd in the direction they wished it to go. many miles lay between washout coulie and the ranch buildings, and there was little danger that this racket might be carried there on the wings of the wind; even though it were faintly heard, chances were that the punchers would conclude not to bother, under the impression that it must be a round-up on some neighboring stock farm. "now! give'em hail columbia!" ned could hear chunky shouting these words, or something that sounded very similar. he was paying little attention to anything that was said, however, for his whole mind seemed to be taken up with following the rapid drama that was being unfolded before his eyes. there began to sound the discharge of firearms. arizona tom, dutch and chunky each took a shot, and jimmy not to be outdone, managed to get his gun half-way to his shoulder before he pulled the trigger. then his calico pony began to act in such an extraordinary manner that it took all jimmy's attention, and for the time being he did not care a particle whether the two rustlers ran away, or were made to bite the dust, for it was a case of winding his arms around the neck of that bucking broncho or else measuring his length on the ground, after flying for a dozen or two feet through the atmosphere. the rustlers might never have known they were being fired upon if it depended on the noise alone; but then there was the flash of the several discharges; and the whistle of flying lead past their ears to warn them of the fact that they were in the danger zone. they looked that way and must have made a discovery that was far from pleasant. still they were not ready to give up so easily, when it had seemed that everything was coming their way. "they mean to make a fight for the prize!" ned told himself, when the saw a sudden flash from the spot where the two rustlers had been mixing with the herd, and which must mean that one of them was using his gun. at that he raised his rifle. others of the lawless tribe would be pushing into view shortly, and it was policy to scatter them in the start, so as to cut down the advantage they would have from greater numbers. ned had never learned how to shoot from the back of a prancing pony; but he was able to use good judgment, and pull the trigger when there was a temporary lull in operations. he must have managed to strike the mount of one of the rustlers, much to his regret, for immediately it started madly off, despite all efforts of the rider to hold the beast in. the other man finding that he alone faced the fire of the enemy made haste to tum and flee. this, however, was only the beginning. there were others near by, and loud yells attested that they were about to burst into view, when the whole operation must be repeated. meanwhile the cattle continued to pour in a living stream out of the coulie. no wonder these reckless rustlers had taken great chances in order to secure this bunch, which consisted of the pick of the double cross herds. they had undoubtedly been kept in close touch with all that was going on by the spies who were employed on the ranch, and doubtless knew the number and value of each separate herd. then came whooping riders, this time some half dozen, scattered about so as to cover considerable ground. in the bright moonlight the picture was a thrilling one, and ned believed he must often recall it in future days. the surging longhorns, the active cow ponies and their riders keeping up a continual racket, which seemed to be an essential part of the performance--all these impressed ned greatly. then he heard a loud explosion close to his head. "give it to the night riders! let 'em have hot lead! show 'em how the boys of double cross ranch can stand up for kunnel job!" with each short sentence chunky was discharging his gun; and as the others kept pace with his activity there was a warm session around that quarter. even ally sloper added to the din by shooting several times, and yelling, though ned saw if none of the others did, that he aimed high, apparently not caring to take the chances of hitting one of his friends. the utmost consternation attacked the surprised rustlers. they must have fancied that the whole force of the ranch was upon them, if noise counted for anything. one man was seen to sway in his saddle, so that another had to help hold him in his seat. ned himself felt sure that with one of his shots he had wounded another rustler in the arm, for he changed the bridle grip to the other hand, and dashed off at full swing, plainly demoralized. there was no holding them, because they knew they were in the wrong, and that if their identity chanced to be discovered, in spite of the bandanas with which the lower part of their faces were concealed, the law would step in and deal with them harshly. and so it came about that the raid on the double cross herd turned out to be a fizzle; though only for the prompt way in which the defenders of the prize herd started out to meet the situation there must have been a different story to tell. "get the cattle headed for home!" was the slogan that went the rounds; and with chunky still keeping close to the suspect this difficult job was undertaken. being experts at the rounding-up process they soon had the herd headed off, and started on a new tack, now making in the direction of the ranch home. ned had meant to lend a hand at this work, but something that came up kept him from taking any great interest in the driving of the steers and cows. this was the strange disappearance of his chum, jimmy mcgraw! chapter xv. jimmy's unwilling ride. there was reason for alarm, ned thought, when he made this discovery. the last he could remember seeing jimmy was just at the time the second detachment of the cattle rustlers came bursting out from the coulie, with shouts and all the wild clamor cow punchers indulge in when driving stock. at that time jimmy seemed to have tamed down his calico pony enough to once more think of using his marlin on the enemy; but strive as he might ned could not remember having heard its suggestive "cough" to tell that jimmy had actually pulled the trigger. it must have been at that exciting moment, when everything was confused, and ned had his attention fastened on the movements of the cattle poachers, that the thing happened. he knew jimmy too well to even suspect that the other would run away voluntarily, for jimmy dearly loved a "scrap," though trying to conform to scout rules, and avoid seeking trouble. this would of course mean that the frantic calico pony with the white eyes and furious temper had taken the bit between his teeth, and actually run away with the scout. how could they tell which way the animal had gone in making his headlong flight? would he be apt to head for home, or else try and join the horses of the fleeing rustlers? ned determined to speak to chunky about it. the puncher might be able to offer good advice in the matter, seeing that he had spent all his life on the plains, and knew the habits of these tricky bronchos from the ground up. chunky, however, was a difficult man to approach just then, for he certainly had his hands full in getting the big herd turned toward the ranch house, and at the same time trying to keep the suspect under his eyes. if ned had only had his little electric torch with him he would have gotten down and examined the soil, endeavoring to get some pointers by learning in which direction the calico pony had fled. all he could really do was to help drive the cattle home, and make up his mind that if poor jimmy failed to show up during the remainder of the night, he would return again in the morning and do his best to follow the trail of the runaway. he pictured the scene, with jimmy, who was not in the class of champion riders at all, clinging to the neck of his mount, and trying to soothe the frantic beast by soft words, which must, however, have fallen on deaf ears. when before leaving the spot ned discovered some object shining amidst the bunches of buffalo grass, and jumping down found that it was indeed jimmy's prized repeating rifle, he knew that his guess must be close to the truth. unless he wanted to be left behind he must be moving, for already had the energetic chunky and his mates managed to turn the cattle in the right direction and the whole mass was swinging toward home. the herd, however, went unwillingly, doubtless disliking to quit their pasturage, and suspecting it was to be followed by some sort of irksome confinement, remembered only too well from times past. ned would not soon forget that long and tiresome drive. not only did the punchers have their work cut out for them in keeping the herd compact, and constantly moving toward the region where the building would finally heave in sight, but they had another duty at the same time. there was no telling what the discomfited rustlers might not attempt. if after their temporary panic they managed to get together and compare notes, doubtless they would realize that they outnumbered the punchers who had taken the prize herd away from them so neatly and expeditiously. in their anger they might even follow, and start hostile operations on a more savage and determined scale, with the intention of recovering their lost plunder. these cattle thieves had been getting bolder than ever of late, and there could be no telling what they might not attempt. consequently chunky had given orders to his men to keep their guns "on tap," and to make quick use of the same, given any opportunity. they were thus compelled to keep on guard all the while they shouted, and chased after such steers or cows as manifested a desire to break away from the main herd. once he caught the spirit of the thing ned was in his element, and the puncher afterwards admitted that the boy acted as though he had been accustomed to driving herd all his life. of course, with so few hands, and such a wide field to cover, it now became practically impossible for chunky to keep close to ally sloper. he saw that the other appeared to be engaging in the diversion with all his accustomed vim, and it had to go at that. if the man failed to turn up when they reached the stockade, why they would be well rid of a faithless employee, that was all. it was too late now for any traitor to spoil their work by hunting up his allies and telling what he knew. apparently sloper must have been figuring things out, and concluded to risk it further by sticking to the double cross outfit. he did not know just how far suspicion may have gone; but if he disappeared now his guilt would be taken for granted, and his usefulness as a spy gone. so ned noticed every little while that the man was working with all his accustomed zeal, as though to counteract any suspicion that might have been aroused concerning his loyalty. indeed, ned more than once took pattern from the actions of sloper, who had few equals and no superiors at the work. it seemed a shame that so expert a cowman should ruin his career by playing a double game with his employers. it took them several hours to get the herd near home, for as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link so cattle may be driven only as fast as the cows and calves can run. the strain eased up considerably when they drew nearer the ranch buildings, for the possibility of their being pounced upon became less. at a distance of ten or twelve miles the dashing rustlers could afford to take chances; but not so near home. once that hard-riding bunch of punchers started in their wake and the cattle thieves knew what was bound to follow; for saddles would be emptied ruthlessly, and no quarter shown. to the cattleman they were looked upon as snakes in the grass, and treated accordingly. ned had lots of time to indulge in serious reflections as he rode along, now urging his pony to the right, and again to the left, as occasion demanded, in order to keep the main body of advancing cattle intact. besides thoughts of the lost chum, jimmy, he found himself wondering whether the man whom the government officials had asked him to look out for, clem parsons, could have been one of those whom he saw wildly chasing the stolen cattle; also if the deep-throated voice that had bellowed out from time to time belonged to the awful hy adams, step-father to amos, and ferocious mate to the shrinking little woman he and the other scouts had met and pitied so much. if this were so he began to speculate as to just how he might get in touch with the man who was wanted on many back charges by the secret service people. doubtless these cattle thieves had a secret den somewhere among the hills, to which they repaired between daring raids. if clem parsons had indeed cast his fortunes in with the gang it began to look as though of a necessity ned would have to look up this hiding-place, risky proceeding though that would seem. then his mind would turn again to jimmy. what if the latter had fallen in with some of the defeated rustlers, would they treat him decently, or be apt to vent their spite upon his head because of their recent bitter disappointment? ned found himself wishing again and again it were all over, and that he knew the worst. the closer they drew to the stockade the more he found his nerves quivering with suspense. if jimmy were not there he realized he was in for a very bad night, and that sleep was not apt to visit his eyes. the moon was now high up in the star-dotted sky, showing that some hours must have elapsed since the encounter with the bold cattle thieves. every chance ned got he strained his eyes to learn if there were any hopeful signs ahead. but bright though the moon may seem, so that one could even read fine print in a newspaper held close to the eyes, it is always deceptive, and low-lying objects fail to disclose themselves until they are quite near. it was a moving light that finally told ned how close the herd was to the ranch buildings. then he caught answering shouts, and eagerly he listened in the hope of distinguishing the well-known voice of jimmy among the whoops; but although once or twice he thought he detected it, he could not be sure. the gates of the big enclosure were open and ready to receive the cattle, with the chinese cook in attendance. it only required a little expert work in getting the leading steers to enter, and after that the job was easy. seeing that his services were no longer required, and with an aching heart, ned wheeled his pony and started for the long building known as the bunkhouse, beyond which lay the other structures. as he did so he discovered a moving figure advancing hastily toward him. hope grappled with doubt, and he was held in this mixture of suspense until suddenly he heard a loud sound that sent a spasm of joy to his heart. it was a fair imitation of the long-drawn howl of the wolf; and so many times had he drilled jimmy in making this signal of the patrol to which both of them belonged that he knew his missing chum was safe and sound, or he would not be advancing toward him so sturdily. "jimmy," he shouted in a transport of joy. "whoopee! on deck, ned, and mighty glad it is to see you comin' back after that hullaballoo of a time!" came the answer; and in another minute the two scouts were shaking hands with considerable vim. "i picked up your gun, jimmy," remarked ned, the first thing, "and here it is fastened to my saddle." "glory be, but that's good news," declared the other, exultantly; "d'ye know i've been feelin' mighty sorry about that same gun, for fear i'd lost it; and you know what i think of the shootin'-stick. it was either drop everything, and get me arms tight around the neck of that blasted broncho, or else find myself standin' on me head. gee whiz! but it was a mad race the little villain gave me before he fetched up here at the ranch house." "i'm sorry you didn't have some of the fun of driving the herd home," remarked the scout master; "but glad it was no worse than a runaway. when i saw the white in the eyes of that pretty calico pony i knew he had a nasty temper. i suppose you'll want another horse after this?" "what, me?" ejaculated jimmy, bristling up instantly; "is that the opinion you've got of your old chum, ned nestor? did you ever know me to give anything up first pop? well, i'll break that spotted little fiend in, or else he'll break my coco for me. and say, he's goin' to pay up for the run he took this night. i'll keep him goin' till he's ready to drop, and will eat out of me hand. that's jimmy mcgraw's way of doin' things. the mcgraws never say die as long as there's anything to eat in the house." "well, let's get back to the house, after i've turned my pony loose in the corral where they keep the saddle band. none of the others shown up yet?" ned continued. "not yet, though i think one of the herds must be close by now, for i caught a whoop or two a while back, and it didn't come from your quarter either," jimmy replied, walking beside his chum, who had jumped to the ground, glad of the chance to stretch his cramped legs after such a tedious ride, to which he was not accustomed. "you must have made record time getting here, then, jimmy?" the scout master observed, and if he smiled at picturing the sight of his companion hanging desperately to the neck of the frantic runaway, jimmy was not aware of the fact. "'tis meself that beat the score that time," he remarked, proudly. "when i look back, all i seem to remember is a rush, me arms fast around the neck of the flying steed, and then him entering the corral like a whirlwind. it was whist, bang, and there i was miles away from the fight with me heart near broke because i'd been cheated out of the best part of the game." when ned remembered the arduous drive that followed, with his voice husky from shouting, and how his arms ached from waving his hat, and managing his lively mount, he secretly thought jimmy had been a lucky chap, though he did not say so. "and you couldn't find a mount to come back on, i suppose?" he asked. "that i couldn't," replied jimmy. "the saddle horse corral was plumb empty; and there wasn't a puncher around to lend me his broncho. i even thought to walk out and meet ye on the way, but was afraid i'd get lost and give heaps of trouble. but glory be, you won the day, and saved the prize herd, which ought to please the colonel when he hears about the same." having disposed of his mount ned, together with jimmy, started for the house, intending to settle down in an easy chair and not move until he went to bed. there could be no doubt but what one of the other herds was coming in, for the clamor of the drive was in full swing. it had been thought that chunky and his party might be the last to arrive, as they had further to go; but unexpected difficulties must have delayed the others, or else they found themselves unable to push their herds as rapidly as ned's party had done. jimmy was laughing softly to himself as they sat there, waiting the turn of events. "what strikes you as so funny, jimmy?" asked ned. "well," replied the other scout, "i was only thinkin' how little we can see further than our noses. now, only a bit ago some of us began to complain that the excitement was all in the past. but say, look what we've run up against before we've been in this country of the cattle rustlers a single day. can you beat it?" and ned, as he looked back at the strange events marking the last twenty-four hours, was compelled to admit that jimmy was right; for they had certainly never met with a more thrilling series of happenings than those which had come their way. and it also seemed as though the end was not yet; for there still remained to be carried out his business affair in connection with the man who was wanted so badly by the secret service people at washington. as they sat there and exchanged remarks, the noise grew in volume, and presently from three quarters at once moving objects began to loom up, that soon developed into the expected droves. from which it would seem that success had accompanied the double cross punchers in every round-up, and that the herds were all safe. chapter xvi. after the rustlers' raid. as the other herds came in the excitement grew intense. cattle were lowing, men shouting and horses whinnying at such a rate that the two boys changing their mind, had to make their way out to the corral to see the last of the great drive by moonlight. by degrees things quieted down, though there would be more or less uneasiness manifested among the impounded cattle throughout the night. the punchers were a noisy lot. dozens of questions flowed in upon chunky, dutch and the other two who managed to bring in the prize herd. this was after the news was circulated that the rustlers had been in the act of making off with the cattle in washout coulie at the time the double cross boys arrived on the scene. there was much bitter lamentation heard among the unlucky ones, because they had been cheated out of all the fun. they could have a drive at any time, but a genuine encounter with the bold rustlers was something worth while. ned saw that ally sloper was playing his part as though he meant to rehabilitate himself in the good graces of the owners of the ranch after his recent unfortunate break. he even boasted of having wounded at least a couple of the cattle thieves with his fire; though ned knew only too well that this was untrue, since the other had shot too high for any such damage to follow. "he's got his nerve with him, seems like," jimmy had remarked, as having been joined by harry and jack, he and ned stood there watching the last of the cattle being driven into the big enclosure that would be patrolled during the remainder of the night, so that nothing could happen to break the corral fence and scatter the inmates over the plain. "that's more than lefty louie had then," remarked jack. "he went out with your crowd, didn't he?" ned asked. "went out, yes, but he didn't come back with us," replied the other scout. "huh! i just thought that sneak would beat it, given half a chance," said jimmie. "one of the first things i did," harry spoke up, "after getting in was to hunt around to see if the other three came back; and not a sign can you find of one of the bunch." "you mean coyote smith, bob caruso and tinplate george?" ned inquired. "all slipped away the first chance they got," harry continued, in a disgusted voice. "i guess they must have seen that the game was up, and thought they might have to swing from some telegraph pole if the punchers took a notion they'd played fast and loose." "can you blame them?" asked ned. "well, perhaps not so much; and besides, it cleans out the sneaky element among the punchers of the double cross outfit," harry admitted. "but uncle job will have a heap to hear when he gets back from his journey. you don't think those men will dare come close in here and try to steal the cattle right out of the corral, do you, ned?" "i should say there wasn't one risk in a thousand that way," answered the scout leader, immediately; "they know that we'll be on guard, and chances are they've got too healthy a respect for the shooting abilities of these scrappy double cross punchers to want to get into a regular fight with them." "but all the same chunky means to keep on the watch; he'll have the stockade well guarded, won't he, ned?" harry continued. "that has all been arranged for," ned told him; "and you can make up your mind there'll be nothing doing until morning. fact is, i'm more suspicious that ally sloper being up to some sly trick than that his friends will dare pounce down on the ranch in the night. "i hope chunky hasn't changed his mind about that snake!" jimmy ventured. "just because he helped drive the herd, and goes around boasting how he did such great shakes in shooting up the rustler gang, isn't any proof that he's reformed." "chunky is on to his capers, never you fear, jimmy," declared jack, "and ten to one he means to have sloper watched every minute of the time till dawn. if he tries to slip away, he'll run up against a snag right off. it may be a piece of lead that stops his exit, or the loop of a lariat. you can count on seeing him among us when the call to breakfast comes." "oh! i wish it was now!" jimmy was heard to mutter, "all this work seems to have made me as hungry as a wolf; and it's been an _awful_ long time since they flagged me to a meal." "cheer up, jimmy," ned told him, "because i've got some good news for you." "did the lady tell chin chin charley to give the boys some grub after they came in from the drive, ned; is that the good news you want to tell me?" jimmy eagerly demanded, looking anxiously at his chum. "there goes the big gong right now," interrupted jack, "and the boys are trooping for the grub tent as if they know what to expect after doing night duty. so get a move on, jimmy; if you don't want to find everything cleared out and only a bare table left." jimmy was off like a flash. when the other scouts entered the place where meals were served, they discovered him busily at work. "saved you places alongside me!" he called out; "and say, there's plenty of chow for everybody. that chink knows his business, and i'm goin' to be great friends with him all the time we're here." "it takes you to make up to the cook, jimmy," laughed jack. "that's all right," replied the other, with a broad grin, "sure it's a wise boy that knows which side of his bread is buttered. and chin chin charley is the boss cook, let me tell you right now. i ain't much in that line myself, but then i know a good thing when i run across it. and don't the rest of you get jealous if you see how thick me'n him are expectin' to be; ain't we, chin chin?" the slant-eyed mongolian must have already taken quite a liking for jolly, good-natured jimmy, for upon being thus appealed to he nodded his head until his pigtail bobbed up and down, smiled affably, and was heard to murmur: "much good frien's, jimmy, me; heap like melicanboy; much eat; come back more many times, alle samee!" apparently jimmy was in for a good time while staying at the double cross ranch, and he believed in starting things right by making sure that the food supply would be unlimited. after the midnight supper had been disposed of the punchers strolled forth again. ned and chunky were in consultation, for the puncher, knowing that mrs. haines had somehow conceived the idea that the young scout leader had a long head for a boy and could be depended on in an emergency, realized that it was the right thing to put certain things up to him. of course, chunky knew best what should be done, and ned quickly told him to exercise his own judgment in the matter of guarding the big stockade in which the cattle had been shut up. the boys were all tired after such a long and arduous experience. even jack, who as a rule could stand for almost anything, admitted that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other, he felt so stiff. "that's because i'm not used to being so long in the saddle and playing the game they have out here," he acknowledged, "but given a chance, and we'll show our friends, the punchers, that scouts can ride pretty decently. i'm going to pick up all the kinks of the job while i'm on it; and before we leave here we ought to know how to throw a rope, drop a steer, use the branding iron on his flank, and ride the trickiest broncho there is to a stand-still." "that's me," asserted jimmy, like a flash. "he's a spotted little devil, too, and his name, sure it's satan, or if it ain't it ought to be. he beat me out in the first clash and run me all the way home, like a blue streak; but there's another day acomin', don't you forget it; and that score between jimmy mcgraw and satan has got to be rubbed out. i'm on to his curves now and i'll sting him, or it's me chased to the tall timber. you hear me warble, boys!" "then we'll expect to have lots of fun out of the circus, jimmy," said harry, "because they've been telling me that calico pony has got the meanest name around here. some of the boys heard you boasting about how you could manage any animal, and they just couldn't help running that beast in on you. but if uncle job had been here i don't think they'd have dared to take the risk. you might have been killed." "he didn't get me off and that's some comfort," muttered jimmy, grimly, "i'm a good sticker, you see." "yes, i noticed that it was hard work to get you away from that table," jack remarked, with a chuckle. they had been given comfortable quarters on the ground floor, for the ranch house really boasted of two stories in part. cots took the place of beds, but they seemed to be all that might be desired; and, as jack said, were a thousand per cent better than the hard ground, or the hot sand of the desert, which had been their resting place ever since they left los angeles, in that ramshackle automobile that had played them false on the journey and had to be abandoned. it was expected that the two owners of the ranch would possibly return by the following afternoon, when the stirring news could be told. until then ned had considered that, perhaps, no action should be taken in connection with ally sloper, except that the suspect must be kept under surveillance, so that he might not damage the property in any way. the colonel would know how to deal with him though in all probability a discharge would be the limit of his punishment. the night passed without any alarm. "sure they had a lesson they won't forget for some time," jimmy declared in the morning, as the four scouts were talking matters over. they had had considerable trouble in coaxing the said jimmy to get out of his comfortable bed. he declared in a sleepy voice that he had been cheated out of much repose lately, and needed rest the worst kind. argument and pleading seeming to have no effect, ned finally solemnly assured him that they would eat up every bit of breakfast, no matter how they suffered afterwards for it, unless he immediately started dressing. that did the business, for jimmy believed ned meant what he threatened, and that there would be a famine in the land. it was a fine morning and they enjoyed looking out at the scene from the wide and long verandah. the many buildings, the stockade now filled with hundreds of the impounded stock, the horse corrals where the ponies roamed when not in use, or out grazing on the range--all these and more made up a pleasant picture that seemed to promise the boys a most enjoyable time while at double cross ranch. of course, harry had some important business to transact with his uncle but it was not going to interfere at all with their having a great time. it seemed that they had interested mr. stevens in the ranch and its possibilities of enlargement, with greater capital; and the well-to-do automobile maker of new york city had sent his son out to see what he thought of the idea, depending wholly on harry's report as to whether he went into the scheme or not. this being the case it was plain to be seen that harry was bound to be treated like a young prince while he and his chums were at the ranch and that nothing would be deemed too good for them. as breakfast was not ready when the boys issued forth, much to the disappointment of jimmy, who acted as though he had not eaten for two days, they started to look around a little. "we might as well get acquainted with the lay of things," said jack, "because it looks as if we were going to hang out here some little time now. and i want to say, in the beginning, that i expect to be feeling right sore when the time comes to tip our hats to double cross ranch." jimmy gave a grunt at hearing that. "that's nothin'," he asserted, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, "seems to me all of us are pretty much that way right now. and is it to be wondered at, when we took a twenty-five mile run last night without bein' seasoned to the saddle. but given time, and we'll get as tough as any puncher around. i think we've done right well for a pack of greenhorns." "there, your mentioning that word pack makes me think of our burros and their loads," remarked ned. "i wonder what became of them." "i remember seeing one of the punchers leading the donkeys into the stable," harry went on to say, "and p'raps we might find them there. let's stroll in and see if teddy'd know us again, the rascal." and as the others were agreeable, they sauntered over to the stable where some of the cowboys' mounts were kept at times, and which usually housed the saddles and other trappings of the puncher band belonging to the ranch. it just happened by accident that all of the scouts stopped talking as they approached the long, low building, outside of which could be seen the stout rail at which throughout the day ponies could be seen hitched, sometimes as many as a dozen or a score at a time. ned was in the van, and as he stepped into the doorway of the stable he came to a sudden stop and held up his hand in a warning way that the others instantly recognized as a signal for them to halt in their tracks. no one said a single word, only jimmy, who was lagging along in the rear, pushed forward as though anxious to get in line, so as to see what it was that had excited the attention of the scout master. a number of ponies were in the stalls, as well as the donkeys that the boys had brought all the way from death valley, and which they had purchased from a party of dejected prospectors desirous of returning home. there was a man there also, whose back was turned toward them, but whom they immediately recognized as ally sloper, the suspected ally of the rustler gang. he had taken down the three packs that came with the burros and belonged to the scouts, and appeared to be eagerly searching the same, evidently bent on learning what they might contain. it happened that just at the very moment the scouts stood there in the open doorway, sloper made a discovery that caused him to give vent to a low cry of anger and amazement. when ned saw what he held in his hand he did not wonder that the spy was shocked. it was nothing more nor less than the dead homing pigeon the hawk had pounced on, and which with its fateful message had afterwards fallen into the possession of the four scouts, thus putting them wise to the fact that there was treachery afloat at the cattle ranch. when ally sloper saw the nature of his find he understood how it came that his clever game had gone against him so heavily, with the prize herd saved from the rustlers' raid. chapter xvii. the shrewd old fox. "he's wise to the game!" jimmy whispered close to ned's ear, as they all stood and stared at the puncher who held the dead carrier pigeon in his hands. it must have been a great shock for ally sloper. for the first time he realized just how suspicion had come to fall upon his head; and with the note which he had sent out fastened to the leg of that same messenger bird in their possession, those in charge of double cross ranch during the absence of the owners knew to a certainty of his guilt. some movement on the part of the scouts must have told him he was being observed, for he suddenly turned his head and looked straight at them. ned knew there was danger of the baffled conspirator becoming furiously angry and attempting something wicked. he might be ready to take all sorts of chances, if he could but vent his rage upon those whom he suspected must have been the main cause of his defeat. it happened that ned was holding his rifle in his hands at the time, being about to clean it, and he instinctively threw the muzzle of it forward, so that he covered the puncher. although sloper had known that he was under the ban, and suspicion directed toward him, as yet no one had thought to take his gun away. the weapon hung from his side where it could be reached in a fraction of a second, should an occasion suddenly arise calling for action. knowing the clever way these cowmen have of using their tools, ned did not mean that he and his chums should be made victims to the ungovernable rage of a "caught in the trap" schemer. "hold up your hands, quick now, sloper!" was what he told the other; and if he had taken a page from the life of a cowboy ned could not have put his demand in plainer language, for this was the customary salutation of one puncher meeting another whom he had cause to believe had evil designs on his life. the man hesitated at first. he looked on the scouts as tenderfeet, and it galled him terribly to have to submit to being ordered around by a mere boy. but there was something about ned's way of speaking, not to mention the businesslike air of his frowning rifle, that warned him it would be a pretty risky thing to defy the scout master. besides, there were three more fellows in khaki close behind ned, doubtless with other guns that could be brought to bear on him like a flash, if so be he ventured to disobey. and treacherous scoundrel though he might be, ally sloper valued his miserable life. so he dropped the bird and elevated both hands above his head, showing that he surrendered to superior force and conditions which he was powerless to change. "jack!" called out ned, keeping his eyes riveted on the man and never swerving that threatening rifle a fraction of an inch. "on deck, ned," came the answer, close to his shoulder. "step out there and relieve sloper of his gun. be careful not to get between us, remember. if he's going to be allowed to walk around till harry's uncle comes back to settle his case, i don't think it's wise he should go armed. men sometimes get mad and do things they're sorry for afterwards. you hear what i'm saying, sloper. there's no harm going to come to you until colonel job comes back; but it's just as well that your claws are trimmed. and if you know what's good for you, don't try any kind of slippery trick on us. i can shoot to hit, and i will. get that?" "oh! that's all right," replied the other, in an apparently careless tone, though his face was drawn with anger and his eyes blazed with the venom of a panther at bay, "keep right along with your little circus. it gives you some fun and it don't hurt me any. somebody's been killin' one of my birds, and that's what i'm huffy about." ned waited until jack had stepped forward and whipped the heavy revolver out of its leather holster before he went on to say anything further. when this had been accomplished he proceeded to tell the man something more. "a hawk was your undoing, sloper. it pounced on your bird and was going to make a meal of it, when one of my chums used his gun to knock the pirate over. then we found a little note fastened to the bird's leg. i have that note here, and mean to give it to the colonel when he gets back. i won't say what it contains; there's no need of it with you. but we expect that colonel haines will have little trouble in fastening the guilt on the right party, after he sees the handwriting and compares it with that of the punchers working for him. and then it'll be good-bye for some one." "yes," declared jimmy, hotly, determined to have his say in the matter, "and the same feller ought to thank his lucky stars if he gets away from here without being treated to a rope necklace, or given a coat of tar and feathers. i've heard that men have been up against that sort of medicine out here for less things than tryin' to turn the herds of their employers over to the cattle rustlers." the puncher looked at jimmy, and his upper lip drew back with what was more like a snarl than anything else. "you got to prove a thing first," he snapped. "it's easy to say that a man's gone bad, but my word's as good as the next one. wait and see what the kunnel thinks. you're all down on me, i know, but you don't see me shakin' in my boots, do ye? somebody hooked one of my birds, i'm asayin', and used it to send a message with. that's all there is to the thing. it ain't agoin' to bother me any, i'm atellin' ye." "oh! chunky told us you'd give us that sort of a yarn," jimmy declared, "but it don't go down one little bit. we're on to your curves, mr. sloper, let me tell you. you'll sing small when the colonel comes home." "rats! nobody'll be gladder to meet him than me!" asserted the other, with a great showing of effrontery that ned knew was only assumed. ned felt that the chances were anything he said in trying to show the man what an offense he had been guilty of in betraying his employer would be wasted; but he could not resist the temptation to tell him something about scout law, and how boys are being taught in these days to be faithful to their trust above all things. what he took it upon himself to say, in the most pleasant way he could, may have glanced off the other's thick hide, just as water does from a duck's back. still, there could be no telling; and at some future time possibly some of the plain truths spoken by the scout master on that occasion were liable to rise up in the mind of ally sloper to haunt him. he did not make any reply when ned finished, only to scowl and remark: "s'posen i c'n trot along now, without anybody borin' me in the back?" "as if a scout would ever be guilty of shooting anybody in the back!" jimmy indignantly burst out with. "yes, go about your business, sloper," ned told him, "and if i was you i'd have as little to do with the boys as possible the balance of the day. they're talking some about you, and it might be your wisest policy not to wander away to any lonely place, because i wouldn't put it past them to take things into their hands before the colonel comes back." the look that appeared on the puncher's face was as black as a thundercloud. instinctively he clapped his hand at his side and then gritted his teeth when it only came in contact with an empty holster. a cowboy without his ready gun is somewhat of a helpless individual, from the fact that he has come to depend wholly on it in times of trouble. "if i was heeled i wouldn't ask favors o' any man," he grumbled, "and as it is i reckons i'll have to cave and fight shy of the crowd. the lot's set agin me anyhow, and i'll have to change my berth, no matter what the kunnel says." with that he turned on his heel and strode away. jimmy looked after him, and then drew a long breath. "huh! talk to me about nerve," he exploded, "that dub has got them all beat half a mile, and then some. but say, d'ye really think he'll hang around till the colonel comes home?" "chances are he'll beat it before the afternoon gets old," jack asserted. "ought we to let him sneak away, ned?" asked harry. "why not lock him up somehow, and keep him from skipping out?" "well, in the first place, it isn't our business to play keeper to sloper," the scout master replied. "there are plenty of fellows here to attend to his case and i feel that i've done my whole duty when i warned him not to try and leave the ranch until your uncle gets home, harry. if chunky and skinny and the rest think his room would be better than his company or take a notion to give him a warm coat of tar and feathers, it's none of our affair." "yes, i can see you sitting around and doing nothing while such a nasty job is on," jack remarked, with a shake of his head. "i know you too well for that, ned. if you saw them taking sloper out and carrying a bag and a kettle along, i'm justly certain you'd call a halt on the operation and stand between the skunk and the boys who wanted to give him what he deserved." ned made no reply to this accusation. perhaps he knew there was considerable of truth back of it, and that, if such a case did come about, he would be strongly tempted to try and restrain the angry and indignant punchers. the boys loitered around all morning. no one seemed able to do any particular work, save look after the cattle in the stockade, carrying water and seeing that they had some hay to keep them quiet. when the two stockmen returned from the station they would have to decide whether it were safe to drive the herds to the feeding grounds again, and watch them for a while, so as to guard against further trouble. so noon came and went. jimmy had no complaint to make on the score of lack of food. he told his chums he was making up for lost time; and the grinning chinese cook was only too well pleased to dance attendance on the scout, whom he seemed to fancy more than any of the others. half of the afternoon dragged away, and it was understood that possibly in two more hours they could expect the absent owners of the ranch to show up, unless detained by something not down on the bills. it was a very hot afternoon, and as they had not been oversleeping of late, the four scout chums found themselves nodding as they sat on the shady side of the verandah. jimmy had crawled into the one hammock and refused to budge. he declared that his sleep had been so wretched lately that he had a whole lot to make up. now and then one of them would arouse enough to ask some drowsy question, after which they would relapse into silence once more. this sleepy condition of things was suddenly disturbed by loud shouts, and what seemed to be a rushing about on the part of excited cow punchers. even jimmy raised his fiery head from the hammock to call out: "what's the bloomin' row about now? is that the way they always act when the colonel shows up in the distance? well, i ain't agoin' to climb out of this snug hammock to go gallopin' over the hot plain just to yell and swing my hat. you'll have to excuse me, fellers." "but i don't believe it's the colonel coming at all!" declared jack. "look at the way the boys are jumping for their horses, will you? and there's some snatching up belts with guns, and ropes as well. it's something else that's happened." "i wouldn't be much surprised if that sloper's nerve had begun to fail him as the time drew near for my uncle to come back, and that he's skipped out, taking chances of being overhauled and strung up, rather than to face colonel job." "whoop! you're right, harry, for there he goes lickety-split right now!" cried jimmy, eagerly pointing with an extended hand. looking in that direction they could all see a solitary figure on horseback, speeding over the sun-kissed plain with all the haste possible. it was undoubtedly ally sloper, who had finally reached the conclusion that as he would be kicked off the place anyway after his employer had been convinced of his guilt, perhaps he had better not wait upon the order of his going but take a hasty departure. he was spurring his pony "for keeps" as jimmy observed. shortly afterwards a bunch of the punchers broke away from the saddle corral and went swiftly in the wake of the fleeing reprobate. "look at him wavin' his hat at the crowd!" exclaimed jimmy. "sure i'd hate to be in his boots right now. there must be some hosses just as good in that bunch, and look at 'em ride, will you? i kind of think ally will be sorry for showin' such a lot of hurry to clear out. he must a got cold feet athinkin' of facin' his boss. he's made a big mistake, i'm tellin' you." ned said nothing, but he had read the treacherous puncher as a shrewd rascal, and had an idea ally sloper must know what he was doing. "he gave 'em a good run for their money, boys," jimmy loudly declared, "just look how tired their poor old ponies seem to be, aholdin' their heads hangin' low, like they'd covered forty miles. but i don't see our friend, ally, among them. and i guess now he must have got his medicine." "wait and ask skinny there, who's heading the lot," jack advised him; for he noticed the little smile on ned's face and believed the scout master was not so positive as jimmy seemed to be regarding the outcome of the mad race. skinny looked gloomy and, indeed, there were few smiles among the seven who had so gleefully started out in his company to overhaul the fugitive and give him a little token of their warm regard. "did you overtake him, skinny?" harry called out as the returning band trotted past, their ponies lagging fearfully. "not so's you could notice the same, sir," replied the stout puncher who answered to so misleading a name. "then his broncho was better than any of your mounts, i suppose?" harry continued. the cow punchers started grumbling at a great rate, and said some pretty ugly things about the absent one. "seems like he was too slick for us, sir," skinny went on to say, dejectedly. "co'se we might a cort up with ally if things'd a been right and proper; but say, it wasn't long before he started to run away from the hull outfit, and we reckons as how the old fox he must a doped all the ponies but his own mount!" chapter xviii. more trouble ahead. it turned out that what the dejected skinny had said was the truth. even the ponies that had not taken part in the chase of ally sloper were found to be showing plain signs of being sick. there could be no doubt but what the sly fox had laid his plans carefully, and also found an opportunity to carry the same out. he must have managed to give each broncho something in his feed that would within a certain time weaken him, especially if subjected to any violent exercise calculated to start the animal sweating freely. those who had pursued the fleeing puncher had kept their own for a short time, and then noticed that no matter how they urged their mounts on they were being slowly distanced. the extravagant gestures of derision on the part of sloper also aroused suspicion; and when their ponies began to show unmistakable signs of playing out, what seemed to be the truth dawned upon them. "it was a mighty clever ruse, i'm thinking," jack remarked, as he and his chums went out to see the sick ponies. "are they poisoned and will they all die?" harry asked one of the punchers, with keen regret in his voice, as he watched the actions of the sick animals. "oh! we reckons it ain't so bad as that there," replied the cowboy, "they been locoed with some weed that ally, he must a carried around with him, meanin' to use the same when the right time came along. but miss haines she give us some stuff outen the kunnel's medicine chest, 'case, yuh see, he's somethin' o' a vetranary surgeon; and they seem to be pickin' up a bit a'ready." an hour later the expected party was discovered heading for the ranch buildings, but not a solitary puncher went circling out to meet them. this fact must have given rise to considerable wonder on the part of the two stockmen, who knew the ways of cow punchers so well. their astonishment was unbounded when they arrived at the stockade and saw the herds penned up. first of all, they greeted the scouts warmly. as harry was the representative of his father, whom the stockmen hoped to induce to join them in putting more money into their enterprise, so as to enlarge the scope of their business, it was only natural that he should be shown the utmost consideration, in order that a favorable report be taken back when he returned home. but then harry was the nephew of both stockmen, so to speak, and they would have welcomed him warmly for that fact alone. when they heard all that had happened and how the lucky finding of the dead homing pigeon with its telltale message had betrayed the plans of the conspirators, they could hardly express their feelings toward the scouts. of course there followed the hasty moonlight ride out on the range, the round-up of the cattle that was not ordered, the fight with the rustlers, and last, but not least, the clever way in which ally sloper had made his escape so as to avoid facing his late employers. it was soon decided to keep the herds confined until the following morning, when they would be driven forth once more to their several grazing grounds. they must be guarded day and night for the time being, and orders were given to all hands to shoot straight in case another raid were attempted. colonel haines was very angry over the way things were going. he feared that if those reckless rustlers were allowed to hold forth in the strip of land bordering the colorado, they would continue to take toll from the herds of the double cross ranch, and that this might in some way serve to make harry carry an unfavorable report back to his rich father. and so the stockmen put their heads together and decided that the time had come to make a determined effort to rid the country of the lawless cattle thieves. in the morning they would send a messenger to the nearest town with a note to the sheriff, demanding that he come straightway out with an armed posse and begin a systematic search for the hiding place of the gang. it must be war to the knife after this between the cow-punchers and the rustlers, who must be made to realize that it would be too hot for them in that "neck of the woods." in the morning everyone was up before sunrise, for there was plenty to be attended to on this day. the four scouts determined to ride out in a bunch with chunky and see the prize herd taken back to the vicinity of washout coulie. then they could employ the balance of the day to suit themselves, perhaps in looking for game that was to be found in the hills near by. the ponies had all recovered from their sickness. whatever it had been that the treacherous puncher had dosed them with, either the effect had worn off or else the horse medicine which mrs. haines had taken from her husband's chest must have counteracted the drug. no one was more pleased to learn this fact than harry, who had a very tender heart and disliked to see even animals suffer. jimmy enjoyed that morning ride greatly. he soon caught the spirit of the range, and mounted on the back of his calico pony he drove this way and that, shouting louder than any seasoned puncher, slapping his quirt and doing bravely in assisting to keep the cattle bunched on the drive. everything seemed to be quiet around the coulie that had been the scene of their spirited engagement with the rustler gang some thirty hours and more previously. after the severe lesson that had been taught the thieving pack, it was firmly believed they would remain in hiding for some time now, waiting for the excitement to blow over and the punchers to get careless again. at the same time, when the scouts started to leave the coulie, bent on skirmishing around to see if they could scare up anything worth while in the shape of game, chunky thought it his duty to warn them to keep their eyes about them all the while. "they're a slick article, boys," he remarked, seriously, for he had already come to like the chums exceedingly, while the feeling of interest was just as warm on their part; "and since they know by now from ally that 'twas you as spoiled their plans, they might have it in for you. if so be you run up against any strange punchers, don't have anything to do with the same. they might be rustlers, 'case you know all these here cattle thieves has been on ranches, some time 'r other, and got fired because they didn't play fair. keep your eyes peeled all the time." "that's what all scouts mean to do, chunky," advised jimmy, promptly. "their motto is 'be prepared,' even if they don't always live up to the same. but we'll try to keep our eyes on the watch for signs of trouble. see you later, boys! so-long!" jimmy was rapidly picking up range ways. all he needed to make him a regular puncher, he imagined, was a cowboy suit with sheepskin chaps and a real range hat, to take the place of the campaign headgear that as a scout he always wore. already the calico pony was showing signs of being conquered. jimmy had a masterful way about him, being a bit reckless, and the animal, no doubt, began to understand that, as his new rider seemed bent on keeping up the fight to the bitter end, it might be the best policy to seem to yield. but ned, still having in mind the white eyes that struck him as treacherous, warned jimmy not to trust his mount too far. they rode for miles along the foot of the hills. ned never failed to keep track of the distance and the points of the compass. when they considered that it was time to head toward home they could depend on the scout master to tell them just where the ranch buildings lay, and about how much distance separated them from home. up to that time they had not come across any signs of game, a fact that caused jimmy to express himself as very much disappointed; for their lunch had been a scanty one, according to his mind, and he indulged in high hopes that if they could only knock over an antelope or a deer while the rest were resting, he could start a cooking fire and fix up a little snack to allow him to hold out until suppertime arrived. ned, who had been closely observing their surroundings for some little time now, gave it as his opinion that they might find something in the shape of quarry if they left the plain and turned into the scrub that covered the slope of the hills. "it looks like our last chance for to-day, boys," he announced, "and because our chum, jimmy here, has set his heart so much on taking home some game, we might make one more try. if nothing shows up in half an hour we'll call the hunt off for to-day and come again some other time. are you all agreeable?" there was no dissenting voice. half an hour may have seemed like a very short time to jimmy, who disliked to give anything up on which he had set his heart; but he realized that ned was always a better judge of things than he could ever hope to be. besides, their ponies had begun to exhibit slight signs of weariness, not having fully recovered from the effects of the weed they had eaten, and which had made them sick. as the ranch buildings were a good many miles away, they must not force the ponies too hard if they hoped to be home by sunset. this was only the first of many trips the scouts had planned to cover during their stay at the cattle ranch. they meant to exhaust the resources of the country for good times, and jack was figuring on adding largely to his collection of wild animals' pictures while there. he had interested jimmy in the matter, so that he could count on company and assistance in his excursions by day and night in search of fitting subjects. they turned their ponies at the brush and started to comb it, being constantly on the watch for signs of a leaping deer aroused from a noonday nap in the shade. the going was inclined to be rough, so that they had to be careful not to let their mounts trip and throw them. ned knew that what little air there was stirring came in their faces, which was a favorable sign; but it is doubtful whether any of the others noticed this fact, as they were not in the same class as the scout master when it came to understanding the elements that go to make a successful stalk. still no game obliged them by jumping out of some shady covert, which jimmy considered mighty mean, when his stomach was fairly clamoring for food. when the nature of their surroundings showed a considerable change, and instead of mere brush and a scraggy growth of trees they found rocks surrounding them, with miniature canyons opening up all around, ned began to think they had gone far enough. he yielded, however, to jimmy's pleading when the latter suggested that they fasten the ponies in a thicket and advance a short distance on foot. "it looks good to me up yonder," jimmy was saying feverishly. "i'm most sure now i glimpsed somethin' movin', which might have been a browsin' rocky mountain big horn sheep, if they have such down here; or, again p'raps, it was a grizzly bear, or a four-legged venison feedin'. let's take a turn up there and if we don't raise a solitary thing, why, i'll give in and go back home empty-handed, feelin' like a dog with his tail between his legs." ned certainly would not think of letting jimmy make that little excursion alone, nor did he feel like allowing only one other to accompany the would-be mighty hunter. chunky had warned them particularly against getting scattered while exploring the country roundabout. "where one goes all must follow!" he said, positively. "bully for you, ned," jimmy declared joyously. "the more the merrier they say; and jack and me'll be glad to have the whole bunch along." "how about the ponies, ned; do you think it is safe to leave them here?" harry wanted to know, a little anxious about the safety of their mounts; because a twelve-mile hike did not appeal to him just then. "i don't think anything or anybody would be apt to bother them," jack remarked, although no one had asked his opinion on the subject. "sure they won't," asserted the eager jimmy, making his jaws work as though in imagination he were already enjoying a tender venison steak alongside of a splendid camp fire. "we'll have to risk a little," ned admitted, as he dismounted, and once more looked to see that his rifle was in condition for immediate use. they found places where the ponies could be tied, and the animals evidently did not object to the rest in the least, if their actions were any judge. "'tis meself that's thinkin' the dope ally sloper gave spot here, as i've renamed satan, must have taken the heart out of the critter, because he's been as gentle as you please all day," jimmy remarked, as he patted the calico pony; but ned only shook his head without making any reply, for he had seen the ears flattened and noted the half-inclination on the part of the pony to bite at the hand that was caressing its wet neck and withers. presently they started up the canyon toward the spot where jimmy still declared he believed he had seen an object move, which must be game of some sort. all conversation having been positively tabooed by ned, jimmy could only take it out in sundry grins and vigorous nods of his head as they proceeded. everybody was tuned up to a tense state of excitement as they reached the bend of the rock wall and then carefully crept around the same. unless jimmy had made a mistake, or was willfully deceiving them, they must speedily discover the animal he claimed to have sighted. all sorts of speculations were doubtless rife in their minds concerning its nature; one hoped it would prove to be a deer; another may have had a monster grizzly in view while caressing his repeating rifle; while jack, who carried his little camera along with him, would have been highly pleased could he have snapped off a big-horn sheep in the act of leaping from crag to crag somewhere up there along the high canyon walls. nothing loomed up, though ned went further than his prudence dictated, in order to satisfy jimmy. the latter's face had fallen forty-five degrees, and he was shaking his head gloomily as he stared around, looking in vain for favorable signs. ned was even about to open his mouth and give the order that would take the little party back to where they had left their mounts tied, when he heard something like a stone falling back of him. remembering that the canyon had narrowed there, like the neck of a bottle, ned turned suddenly on his heels. if he expected to discover any sort of wild game slinking off, he was greatly in error. what he did see caused a spasm of alarm to dart through the scout master's brave heart. up on a shelf of rock, just over the narrow part of the defile, several figures of men could be seen. they looked like ordinary cowboys, but when ned recognized ally sloper and coyote smith, yes, and lefty louie as well among them, he understood that instead they were a part of the rustler gang that he and his chums had been instrumental in cheating out of their intended prey! chapter xix. at bay in the canyon. "dodge back!" suddenly snapped ned, as he seized hold of jimmy and half-pulled him along; while harry and jack, although they did not understand what it was all about, made haste to tumble pellmell in the direction the scout master was dragging the fourth chum. a gun cracked and chips of stone flew up very close to their feet. this was quite enough to tell the others what sort of danger menaced them. it doubtless acted as a spur to hasten their departure from the open, for in another moment they were to be seen huddled under a shelf of rock, each fellow eagerly handling his rifle as though ready to give a good account of himself. "was it just one man made us skip out like all that?" jimmy wanted to know, for he was proud, and the thought would have come back to him many times later on, to cause heartburnings and keen regrets. "no, there was a bunch of them there," ned informed them. "i recognized ally sloper, coyote smith and lefty louie. there was another big man along, a regular giant, with a bushy head of hair and the look of a terror!" "wow! i wonder now if that wasn't amos's awful dad?" jimmy exclaimed. "but what are we going to do about it, ned?" harry wanted to know. "here we are, caught in a little rat-trap, seems like. if we start to run out of this canyon, how do we know what they'll do? they've shot once already and, perhaps, stand ready to give us a volley. this is a bad job, seems to me. see what your everlasting teasing of ned gets us into, jimmy." "well, we ain't all dead yet, are we?" the other naively wanted to know, "and our guns ought to shoot just as straight as the ones they handle, which i reckon now are only the kind punchers carry, and no good at a distance. chirk up, harry, and listen to what ned's goin' to say." instead of speaking ned crept cautiously forward a little ways, and when he returned again, reported that so far as he could see the men on the ledge had disappeared. "but that's not saying they're gone, is it?" asked jack. "i'm afraid not," replied the scout master. "you see, they command the passage from up there on that ledge. if we try and go out, they can drop rocks down and give us a volley from their guns, while we wouldn't be able to sight them." "two might stay here and keep the ledge covered while the others went out," suggested harry, "and play the game that way. with our rifles we'd make things so warm for the bunch they'd hardly dare show themselves. and after the first two got out, why, they could hold the fort for the others. how's that, ned?" "not bad," replied the one addressed, "only i'm afraid there may be others near by. i heard some one shout just then, which i take it must be a signal. there goes another yell from across the canyon." "by jinks! i believe we're surrounded!" ejaculated jimmy, and strange as it might seem, there was something not unlike a vein of gratification in his voice, as though the boy really felt pleased to know they were in for another spell of action. "we're going to have a fight, that's certain!" announced jack, handling his weapon with nervous fingers, in sharp contrast to ned's steady ways. "well, this ought to make a pretty fair sort of a fort, i should think," harry remarked, as he indicated the slanting rock under which they had crawled, and which sheltered them fairly well from any peril that might be hovering above. "but if they once get up above us in the canyon, and below as well, they could pour in what is called an enfilading fire, and make it mighty unpleasant under our rock mushroom fort," jack explained. "which will be apt to happen, sooner or later, if they mean to give us trouble," assented ned. "then we'd better get a hustle on and see if we c'n side-step any," jimmy was heard to remark. "keep watching, up and down, and shoot at any moving thing you glimpse," ned told them, as he started to creep further under the shelf. "where are you going, ned?" harry asked, filled with curiosity. "to see what chance there is of our finding a safer refuge than this," replied the scout master. "somehow, i seem to have a notion that there's a sort of crevice in the canyon wall close by. if it turns out that way and it's big enough for us to crawl in, why, we'll be better fixed to stand that crowd off." "good luck to you!" jimmy called after him. "don't watch what i'm doing, but keep guard in front!" were the last words ned sent back over his shoulder. a minute later and jack announced that he believed there was some one moving up amidst some scraggy bushes growing in a spot where earth had fallen down into the rocky cut. "i've got half a mind to send a shot up there and rout him out," he declared. "cut her loose then," jimmy told him. "if it doesn't do anything else," harry observed, "you'll publish plain warning of our intention to fight back and give as good as we take. when they hear the crack of a rifle, perhaps, they'll make up their minds they don't want to bother us as much as they thought they did in the start." so jack pressed the trigger of his weapon, which promptly went off with a roar, owing to the fact that at the time he was crouching in a confined space under the shelf of rock. "look at that, would you?" cried jimmy. a man had jumped into momentary view, in the midst of the leafless bushes, and making a wild spring, vanished back of a neighboring spur of rock. "he thought it was too hot out in the open," said harry. "i wonder if you winged him with that shot, jack?" "i'd like to believe i did," came the answer, as jack worked the mechanism of his rifle, so as to send out the useless brass shell, and shoot another cartridge from the magazine into the firing chamber; "but from the way he jumped, in didn't look much like he'd been struck. don't forget to watch the other side, too. if they get started coming in on us, we'd be in a peck of trouble." he had hardly spoken when a gun sounded, and they heard the splash of the bullet mushrooming against the stone close by. "wow! that's getting pretty close, let me tell you!" cried jimmy, stooping to pick up the rough-edged, flattened circle of lead, and then immediately dropping it with a cry: "say, that's as hot as anything! it burned my fingers to beat the band. and there goes another shot down the canyon. they're meanin' business this time, boys! if one of us gets in line with a bullet, his name will be dennis." in the temporary absence of the scout master jack thought that the duty of looking after their safety devolved on him. "here, creep back more, everybody!" he ordered, "and snuggled down the best you can behind any stones you find. make yourself as small as anything, while that lead's singing around here." "wish i could find a chance to bang away back at the nervy crowd," grumbled jimmy, as he sprawled out like a huge frog and listened to several shots from as many different quarters. "what's sauce for the goose ought to be sauce for the gander, too. it's a poor rule, i always heard, that don't work both ways." try as hard as he would, however, jimmy seemed unable to find a chance to discharge his gun with anything like a prospect of results. the bullets continued to flit around them, making all sorts of queer and blood chilling noises. there were several narrow escapes, too; and once harry actually felt a tug at his arm that, upon investigation, showed him a slit in the khaki material of which the sleeve of his coat was made, proving that a passing bullet had almost drawn blood. several minutes had passed since this bombardment commenced, and it showed no signs of slackening. if it continued much longer there was a chance that one of the scouts might stop a bullet, and the prospect did not seem very pleasant, to say the least. while this was going on, and all hands were grumbling, because they found so little use for their trusty rifles, jack heard some one gently calling his name. "hello! is that you, ned?" he asked joyfully, for he felt sure that the return of the scout master would mean a new rift in the clouds. "yes, tell the other boys to back in here after you!" the other scout went on to say. "yes, it's here, but hurry and get started!" ned continued, from the darker depths beyond. of course, when the others heard that there was an opportunity to creep out of the fire zone they lost no time in making a move. jimmy was declaring at the same time that it certainly gave him a pain to be compelled to "take water" in that way, and without having inflicted any material damage that they knew of on the enemy. "if we'd only knocked half a dozen of the skunks off their pins, it wouldn't be so bad," he lamented; "but i ain't had any chance. it ain't fair, that's what; and me just crazy to try my marlin on that lot of mutts. but wait, that's all; my time's agoin' to come yet, and then, look out, that's what!" when they had backed some ten feet or more they came to the wall of the canyon. ned was waiting to show them where he had found a fissure into which he must undoubtedly have crawled some little ways, seeking to find out what sort of a haven of refuge it would turn out to be. "i struck a match," he told his comrades, as they pushed into the split in the wall, "and as near as i could make out, there's a little cave right here. we'll take possession and hold the fort against a hundred enemies." "hurrah! that's right, we will!" shrilled the irrepressible jimmy, always quick to seize upon any excuse for giving tongue. already they seemed to have passed beyond the reach of the flying bullets, although, of course, the ambitious rustlers did not know that and were still banging away right merrily. "if only they'd keep that up until they'd fired away every scrap of their ammunition, wouldn't it be just fine," harry suggested, "then we could go out and do a little holding-up on our own hook." ned lighted another match, so that all of them might see what manner of refuge had been found in this emergency. it turned out to be a fair-sized cavity, nothing unusual, but capable of answering their needs. there was, of course, no way of blocking the entrance, but with four guns to stand guard there did not seem to be much reason to fear that the enemy could ever rush their fortress. "but it makes me clear mad to think that while we're cooped up here, like rats in a trap, that crowd can hunt around for our ponies and get away with the lot," jack complained. at that jimmy raised a row. "and that'd be the last i'd see of my calico broncho, just when i was growing attached to him, too!" he bleated. "but from what you told us," jack remarked, bitingly, "there was a time when you had to throw your arms around his neck in order to become _attached_ to him. but never mind, jimmy, the rustler that gets your spot will be sorry for it, if i'm any judge of tricky horses. it may be the best thing that ever happened to you. some times blessings come in disguise; and, if the pony's stolen, it may save you from getting a broken collarbone." the shooting presently ceased. whether the rustlers considered that they had accomplished the end they had in view and utterly demoralized the enemy; or, discovered the change of base on the part of the four scouts, no one was able to more than guess. "seems to me i can hear somebody talking close by," jack remarked, when some time had passed without any renewal of the bombardment. "get ready to repel boarders, then!" urged harry, "for they must have discovered where we've crawled. do you think they'll try to carry the fort by assault, ned?" "i don't believe so, if they're the kind of men i take them to be," replied the scout master. "it would take more than a dozen desperate men to get in here past the hot fire we'd start playing on them, and i reckon there isn't that many in the bunch. no, if they do anything at all, look out for some trick." "but they can't drop down on us, because there's only one entrance and we've got that covered," jack asserted. "it's dark enough in here, but we could see if anybody came against that line of light, and pepper him in a jiffy. i don't see what way they could fool us, ned." "i hope i'm mistaken, that's all," the other returned, but his vigilance did not relax a particle, nor was he at all sanguine as to the rustlers going away and leaving them to make their escape as they pleased. the minutes dragged along. every little while jimmy would declare that he caught those low voices again, or it might be a rustling sound that puzzled him. some of the other scouts admitted that they heard something of the same sort, though unable to explain what it might mean. these things kept them constantly on the alert. their nerves were held up at a high tension all the while they crouched there, keeping continual watch and ward. jimmy had several times grumbled that it seemed like a shame, that four able-bodied scouts should be bottled up in this silly way, and begged ned to think up a plan that would change the situation around, giving them a chance to play the aggressor. he was about starting in for the third time to vent his disgust, when the others heard him begin to sniff. "what's the matter, jimmy; think you smell dinner cooking?" jeered jack. "no, i don't, more's the pity; but i did get a whiff of the most disagreeable smoke that ever was, or could be. there she comes again, with the breeze sendin' the same right into this little snuggery, hot-footed. oh! my, don't that take the cake, though? whatever can they be burnin' and how does it happen to get in here?" "it's the trick i told you they'd be playing on us, jimmy," said ned, seriously. "that's what they call the stink weed, and the smoke'll drive us out of here yet." chapter xx. smoked out. what ned had said appalled them all. the situation had seemed peculiar and distressing before, because they could not see far enough ahead to even guess how it might turn out; it became positively terrifying now. they had heard some of the punchers speak about the powerful agency of the weed mentioned by the scout master. one man had told how it was often used to force wolves from their rocky dens. when set to smouldering, it produced a smoke that was quite irresistible, and which overpowered man or beast. "why can't we find a way to keep it out of the cave?" jack presently demanded, when they found themselves rubbing their eyes, in spite of themselves, and beginning to feel half choked in the bargain. "the opening is too wide to think of closing it, more's the pity," harry answered, with deep regret in his voice. "and even then we couldn't keep the smoke out," ned told them; "because we'd have to get air, and where that can enter the smoke could too." "this is sure the worst deal i ever struck!" gasped jimmy. "it takes your breath away like fun, and makes you think your eyes are bored in your head. they call it by the right name, i tell you, for it certainly does smell rank. whew! somebody fan me, or i'll go under." nobody took the trouble to oblige jimmy. the fact was they all felt it just as badly as the freckled-faced scout; and each fellow was trying the best he knew how to get temporary relief. "how's it going to end, ned?" asked jack, and his voice sounded very queer, for he was talking between his teeth, not wishing to open his mouth wider than he could possibly help. "one of two ways," returned the scout master, gloomily. "you mean we'll just have to hoist the white rag and give up?" continued jack, in deep disgust. "either that or be overcome here; and nobody wants to let that happen, because some of us might suffocate. anything would be better than that, it strikes me," was what the leader told jack. "what if we rushed out and started to fight our way through?" suggested harry, who had been listening to what his comrades said; and the surprise of it all was that he, the peace-loving member of the little band, should so suddenly display such ferocity; but then it could be laid to the terrible fumes that were driving them all nearly distracted. ned shook his head, though, of course, none of them saw this, for it was next door to dark under the protecting ledge, and particularly in the little cave that nature had scooped out of the solid rock. "it would be useless," he told them. "yes, i reckon they're all ready to meet us with a hot fire and some of us would go under," harry admitted, sadly. "but we can't stand this much longer, ned. oh! if only there was another opening to the cave, how fine it would be to slip out and leave them doing their grand smoking act." "but there isn't, i'm sorry to say," admitted ned. "i took the trouble to explore it through and through, and there's not the first chance to find another crack." "have you any plan, ned?" pleaded jimmy, who was choking at a terrible rate and seemed half-blinded already. "only a half-way idea," replied ned. "here it is for what it's worth. three of us will surrender, by walking out and shouting that we give in. jack must manage to hide somewhere in here and stand for it a little while longer. there's just the smallest chance going that they'll skip him; and, if it happens, he can hang around and help us out later." "i'm afraid it won't work, ned; because they must have seen that there were just four in our bunch, all told; and they'll never be happy till they root me out," was the opinion jack expressed. "all the same it may be worth trying," ned declared; "and even if you're found out we can be no worse off than if we all gave up. this is a case that needs quick action." "then just as you say, ned, we'll try it," jack agreed. "i'll see if i can stand this rank smell a little while longer. perhaps it may seem so bad that none of the rustlers'll care to crawl in and look around. you can kind of give them to understand that one of your crowd has keeled over earlier in the fight. there's just a little hope it may pan out. now, for goodness' sake get a move on as soon as you can. i'll find a place behind some loose stones to lie down and play dead. hope when the time comes for me to crawl out i won't be too weak to move." each of the other scouts squeezed jack's hand. he was a prime favorite in the troop, and they disliked leaving him behind more than they could tell; but there seemed little choice and jack was always so willing to sacrifice himself for the good of others. ned took the lead. "keep close behind me," he told harry and jimmy, as they started to crawl over to where they knew the exit must be; for the smoke was now getting so dense that even the faint light was shut out. reaching this place ned shouted, though he found himself so hoarse that he hardly knew his own voice; and several times choked, as though he was close to the border of having a fit. "hello! hello out there! we want to surrender! we're choking, and can't stand it any longer. don't fire on us, and we'll come out! hello! hello!" there came an answering hail, close at hand. "all right, come along, but be sure and hold your hands up over yer heads, or you might get hurt! understand that, kids?" "yes we're nearly all in! here we come!" with that ned led the way, and staggering weakly, the three scouts groped their passage through the haze of bitter smoke toward the faint gleam of daylight that they could begin to see through the pall. while they were still engulfed in this mantle they felt their guns rudely jerked from their hands and fierce clutches taken upon their garments. but the relief was so great when they reached the blessed air in the canyon, almost free from the acrid fumes of that terrible stink weed, that for the moment they could think of nothing else. each of them stood there, blinking, and rubbing their smarting eyes. rude laughter jarred on their nerves, and they began to observe that a circle of lawless punchers stood around, apparently quite amused at the sight of their agony. "seems ter me thar was four o' the tenderfeet kids; how 'bout that, ally?" one of the rustlers observed in a voice that sounded like the grumble of thunder. ned managed to look at the speaker, and he just seemed to know without being told that this giant must be the "awful dad" of the lad amos, whom they had helped out of the quicksand. he was indeed a striking figure, and must inspire terror in almost any man who happened to run counter to his will. when hy adams growled his dislike for anything, plans were apt to be hastily changed, and in a fashion calculated to suit his whim. there was another alongside who caught ned's especial attention, too. he had only to take note of the fact that this tall party bore a scar on his left cheek to feel confident that this must be the rustler chief, clem parsons, who had played fast and loose with the united states government, so that his apprehension by the secret service officers was apt to put quite a feather in the cap of the one fortunate enough to cause his arrest. "there was four of 'em," ally sloper observed, as he pushed forward at this juncture and faced the prisoners; and raising his voice he turned to ned and added: "where'd that other feller skip out to? was he knocked over by our fire? we know that he never got away, we had the canyon blocked with a cork in the neck of the bottle." "we've lost him, somehow," ned replied, brokenly, as though deeply grieved by the fact; "and we hope you'll look around and find our chum, who may be bleeding to death somewhere in the canyon behind a rock." his eagerness to have them search seemed to allay any suspicion that may have started to arise. "oh! we'll give a sort of look when we're getting out of this hole," the man ned took to be clem parsons observed carelessly; "but it's too unpleasant around these diggings right now to stay any longer than we have to. later on, if we happen to think of it, we may come back and look him up. get a move on now, boys, and we'll strike for the upper camp." those who had hold of the three prisoners urged them forward, and it was evident that they meant to leave the vicinity of the recent fight. when ned was sure of this he allowed himself to have a most violent fit of coughing, and managed to mix in several significant signals that were not unlike the howl of the wolf in the stillness of a night on the open plain. this he knew must be heard by the suffering scout inside the cave. it would tell jack they were going, and that he could immediately make a start looking toward relief from the overpowering fumes. ned would have been better satisfied could he have received a return sign from the devoted chum, to assure him all was well; but of course that was utterly out of the question. he could only hope that dear old jack would not by this time have become so weak from his sufferings as to be unable to make his crawl out to the pure air, and then follow after them. the three scouts looked quite dejected at first. they were so accustomed to having things come their way that this thing of being made prisoners galled them. jimmy in particular bewailed the circumstances attending their capture. he seemed to think that it was next door to a disgrace because they had not been able to put up a desperate resistance, and at least disable several of the foe before yielding to superior force. "'tis a shame, that's what it is," he kept on muttering, grimly, "to have to put up your hands like we did without knockin' the stuffin' out of a few of the enemy. i'll never be able to look myself in the face again, sure i won't." "oh! yes you will, jimmy," harry assured him; "i expect to live to see the time when you sit beside a fire, gobbling your rasher of bacon and fried potatoes, and telling the story of this adventure to some of the other boys in the troop." "now, that's adding insult to injury!" declared jimmy, sadly; "when you go and make my mouth water tellin' about breakfast stuff. chances are they'll try to starve us while they hold the lot for ransom." ned gave him a punch in the side when he said this. "let up on that kind of talk, jimmy," he whispered sternly; "don't put the notion in their heads. if they once knew who harry was, and what he came out here to do, they'd think up some scheme to get even with colonel job. even ally sloper didn't hear what our mission was, and thinks we're just on the plains to have a good time. and keep up your spirits. leave it to jack; he's our best hope just now." they were walking by themselves at the time, the rustlers forming a sort of cordon around them though separated by a dozen or two feet; and hence the scouts found an opportunity to exchange a few remarks in whispers without being overheard. after that harry and jimmy did pluck up a little more hope. so long as jack was free to move around they might expect assistance, though none of them could give more than a vague guess what shape it might take. jack was to decide upon his own course. he might think it best to follow them up, and then, after seeing where the cattle thieves had their secret camp, make his way back to where the ponies had been left, mount, and head for the ranch at top speed in order to bring a rescue party to their relief. how they hugged that hope to their hearts as they climbed upward after those of their captors who were in the van. ned was wideawake all the while. he believed that jack must surely follow them, and in order to make his task as easy as possible the scout master was trying in every way he knew how to leave plain indications of their having passed along this way. all this had to be done in a fashion calculated not to attract the attention of the rustlers. if they realized that he was purposely turning over stones every now and then by pretending to stumble, they would know what this implied; consequently the rustlers would lay a trap for the comrade who was expected to follow; and hence jack, when coming creeping along the trail, might walk into an ambush, so that he too be taken prisoner. an hour passed, and all of the scouts were becoming very weary of climbing, much against their will, when indications ahead told them they must be getting close to the rustlers' camp. it was hidden in the most isolated part of the mountain range, and where there did not seem to be one chance in ten that any cow puncher would ever stray in search of lost steers. faint wreaths of smoke first told the sharp-eyed ned that the camp was near by; then he heard a dog bark, and a horse neigh, as well as sounds very similar to the rattle of steers' horns when being driven from one pasturage to another. ten minutes later and they were walking into the camp. they boys observed everything closely, for they never expected to again find themselves in the midst of a gang of reckless rustlers, and it was their policy to "make hay while the sun shone." strange to say they had not been searched up to now for any valuables, though the man who was leader of the rustlers had looked to make sure they were not armed with any weapons besides their rifles and hunting knives, both of which had been taken away from them. harry wished now he had thought to ask jack to lend him his little camera, for the spectacle of that camp was one they must often wish to remember in future days. still, as those who dwelt in the heart of the mountains were mostly fugitives from justice, it was hardly likely they would permit any one to snap off a picture that must prove of value to the officers who were often looking for them far and wide. the afternoon was pretty well done by now. had their original plans been carried out the boys would have been entering camp by this time. instead they found themselves in one of the most distressing situations in their career; prisoners among the lawless rustlers, who must know that much of their recent defeat was due to the coming of these boy scouts to the cattle ranch bordering the colorado country. chapter xxi. in the hands of the rustlers. as the night came on the spirits of the three scouts seemed to sink considerably. somehow the passing of the sun and coming of darkness before the rising of the moon brought with it a new sense of being at the mercy of these rough men, who snapped their fingers at the law, and did about as they pleased. ned at first wondered why they had been brought here to the camp, the location of which had long been a mystery to outsiders. he even feared that circumstance meant something terrible to himself and two chums, because now that they held the secret of the hide-out of the rustlers, it did not seem likely they would be allowed to depart, even if they swore never to betray the fugitives from justice. then he noticed certain signs, being a most observant lad, as we already know, that told him another story. the rustlers for some reason or other were getting ready to make a change of base. perhaps they believed that the vicinity of the double cross ranch was likely to become too warm for them after what had happened, for ally sloper must have brought considerable news when he joined the gang. the boys were allowed to sit together on a blanket. they had been tersely warned by the hoarse-voiced giant that if they so much as tried to escape they were sure to be shot down like coyotes; and there was that in his ferocious manner that made harry shiver with apprehension; while jimmy was seen to clench his fists and grit his teeth, as though his fighting blood had been aroused. ned had to smile, though, when he looked at the fearful difference between the two; one a giant and the other not far from being a dwarf. it reminded him of a little bantam defying a great barnyard rooster, or of david, armed only with his puny sling, facing goliath, the mighty man of the philistines. fortunately jimmy had sense enough not to open his mouth, thanks to the shove ned gave him with his elbow. had he dared say anything bold and saucy to the big bully, the chances were he would have rued the day, for hy adams could have easily seized him by the nape of the neck and swung him around his head six or seven times, just for a lark. "i wonder now do we get any?" jimmy was saying, rather plaintively, as he sniffed the odors of supper cooking. jimmy could have stood for almost anything save starvation, or being deprived of his regular feed. if he had known that he had to run the gauntlet in the morning, or be toasted at the stake, the chances were that he would have let out a howl to the effect that he hoped they would at least fill him up with something to eat before making him lie down for the night. "i wonder where he can be right now?" harry was whispering, as he managed to cast his eyes around the bordering rocks, without doing it in such an open manner as to invite suspicion, in case any of the rustlers were watching them. "of course you mean dear old jack," the scout master went on to say; "and i'm hoping he's at the ranch by this time, telling his story to the colonel." "i can shut my eyes and see the riot there'd be in that case," mused harry, with a sigh; "every puncher would be wanting to join the rescue bunch, and the herds might go hang for one night. but ned, perhaps he followed us up here?" "yes, that might be so," admitted the other scout. "meaning to try and get us loose all by himself," added harry, huskily, as if the very thought of such a thing caused him to tremble with eagerness. "it would be a great feat if jack could manage it," admitted ned, longingly, "and i've got a lot of faith in our chum; but somehow i hope he's chosen to make for the ranch and get the boys started this way." "queer they didn't bother doing much hunting for jack, did they?" pursued harry. "oh! you heard what the leader said, that it was too smoky and unpleasant down in the canyon, and that they'd come back in the morning to look him up. little do they care whether he's living or dead. they're a heartless bunch; and i'd like to see them caught in a net. you can see they've got some of their women folks along, and that this is like a regular border village. there's a pack of dogs, and over in that cabin i've counted as many as four children--all with hair that looks like it had never known a comb and clothes that would shame an indian squaw. but the men are a tough lot, and all they seem to care for is playing cards, drinking, smoking and stealing cattle." the night had settled down by now. it was dark at first, because the moon would not rise until a little later, being now past its full. greatly to the relief of jimmy one of the women brought them over some supper, such as it was. they were hungry enough to forget its shortcomings, though jimmy did complain a little that they saw the bottom of the kettle too soon to suit him, and that he just knew he'd wake up feeling starved long before dawn. but then ned and harry were so used to hearing their comrade let out this sort of a wail that they let it pass by, without extending him any sympathy. "now for a night of it!" harry said, later on, after they had been sitting there, watching the strange scene until they began to feel sleepy. "but how are we goin' to sleep without our blankets?" jimmy wanted to know. "we might ask for some," ned told him, "but honest now, i'd feel a little queer about snuggling down in some of the coverings i've noticed around here." "same with me," added harry, shuddering, "because i'm silly enough to be a little particular about the blanket i get my face down in. if they'd only let us crawl in out of the night air, that tumbledown cabin close by would suit the bill. suppose you beckon to that leader fellow and ask him, ned?" so when ned managed to catch the eye of the party he believed to be the much wanted clem parsons, he invited him to come over to where they sat, which the man did, though with a frown on his scarred face and an ugly look in his eye that the boys did not like any too well. "it gets pretty cool toward morning and as we haven't any blankets, would you mind if we crawled inside that deserted cabin there to sleep?" ned asked. "so you can get your heads together and try to skip out, is that what you're after?" the rustler demanded, harshly. "well, this place is as good as anything you'll get, so make the most of it. tomorrow we're meaning to fix you up, so as to let old colonel job know what we think of him. perhaps he'll have a special cage built to keep his prize fowls in when you get back to double cross ranch. we owe him a long bill, and think we see a chance to pay it before we quit this region for our new location down in arizona. now shut up and don't give us any bother, or i'll let hy adams loose on you. he wanted to have a quirt jubilee right away, with you boys tied to stakes, and every puncher being allowed three cuts at your bare shoulders. but i said, 'wait till morning for the fun.'" with that he turned on his heel and left them, jimmy with wide-open mouth and trembling with indignation. "d'ye think now he meant that, or was he playin' hocus-pocus with us boys?" was what jimmy asked, as soon as he could catch his breath. "i'd like to believe it was in the nature of a joke," ned told him, "and that he was only trying to make us feel bad during the rest of the night; but from all i've heard about clem parsons, he's a cold-blooded scamp, and i'm afraid he means to do something to us, harry, that will make your uncle job furious. he said they meant to leave this part of the country, and on that account it's likely they'll go further than if they expected to stay around here right along." "gee! i'm sorry to hear that," harry observed, and it could be seen that the boy must be considerably worked up, for harry seldom used slang of any kind. as for jimmy, he ground those strong white teeth of his and muttered to himself in a fashion that told how excited he was. "there he is talking with that big rustler now," harry remarked, a minute later; "the one you think must be hy adams, and who hurried over to join the leader after he saw him leave us. see the giant swinging his arms, and hear him growl like thunder in the distance. now, what d'ye think he can be asking of clem parsons, ned? d'ye expect he wants to have that nice little practice whipping-bee right away, and not wait for morning to come?" "i don't know, but something's bothering him--that's sure--for he keeps pointing this way and wagging that great big head of his, like he'd shake it off. seems to me as though he's winning his point, too, because the other man isn't objecting as much as he did before." "there, he shrugs his shoulders and turns away, just like he told him to do as he wanted and that as for him, he washed his hands of the whole business. oh! what if they do start in to use those cruel quirts on our backs, ned?" ned nestor turned a little white himself at the very thought; but he clenched his teeth in that determined way of his and said, slowly: "that would be pretty tough, boys, and i hope it doesn't strike us; but if it should, remember that we're scouts, and supposed to be able to stand pain, like the indians were taught, without wincing or crying out." all of them were watching hy adams with uneasy eyes. they seemed to know from the triumphant glare with which the terror of the hills observed them that he must have carried his point with the leader, and was now only figuring on how he had better proceed. "oh! if only i had my marlin here right now, mebbe i wouldn't put him on the blink in a hurry, though?" jimmy was sighing; "i'd hold up the camp and let you fellers find your own guns. then we'd pick out the ones we wanted to keep, and tell the others to clear out. but that's all a dream, because here i am with only me two fists to back me up, and they wouldn't count against that hog!" hy adams was now talking with several of the most dissipated looking of the men. whatever he might be telling them it seemed to please the others immensely, for they laughed harshly; and one fellow immediately stepped over to take down his quirt from where it hung alongside the door of a shack. "there, did you see that?" demanded harry, "it means whips after all, ned! oh! to think of their cruel hearts. just like we lived down in delaware, where they have the whipping post going. can we do anything to get them to let up on the game?" "i'm sorry to say not," responded ned. "seems as if they'd got to the point where they must see the blood flow to satisfy their desire for revenge. we spoiled their little scheme for getting your uncle's best herd of prize cattle that he means for exhibition purposes and this adams has it in for us on that account." "did you ever see such a terrible brute in your born days?" harry asked, with a shiver of dread, for there were three punchers now who had laid hold of quirts and amused themselves, cracking the lashes at the ends of the whips as though desirous of inspiring additional fear in the hearts of the prisoners by making such suggestive sounds. "amos was right when he said his step-father was the biggest terror along the border," ned admitted. "i've seen some bad men, but never one that struck you as the howling storm does, and that describes hy adams. i'm feeling sorry for amos, who must get in the way of that ham of a fist every once in so often. and that little woman who calls hy adams her husband, just think of how she must suffer when he rages like a bull in a china shop?" "now he's heading this way, ned," harry said half inaudibly, for he was tremendously excited. "well, try your level best to show a brave front, harry, no matter what happens. we've been in lots of tough places and, somehow, always seem to get out before the worst we've been expecting comes along. i'll try and talk him out of doing this cowardly thing. sometimes i seem to be able to swing people around to my way of thinking, you know, harry." "yes, that's so, ned, you nearly always can; but you're up against it this time, i'm afraid. he's only a big brute, and chances are he'll strike you in the mouth if you try and talk him out of doing a thing he wants to carry out. we certainly are in the worst fix of our lives right now." "talk to me about the silver linin' of the cloud," burst out jimmy, "i'd like to see what that means. here we're in a black hole and the ladder's been took away. i'm feeling pretty punk myself; but c'n stand it if the rest of you do." "they always say it's darkest just before dawn, jimmy," advised ned, seeking to buoy up the spirits of his two chums more than that he could himself see any reason for hope. the giant, accompanied by a crowd of men and women, advanced toward the spot where the three scouts stood awaiting their coming, for the boys had scrambled to their feet, anxious to know the worst. "peel off!" roared the bulky leader, with some pretty strong additions to the order that no doubt he fancied were apt to strike terror to the hearts of the trio of khaki-clad boys who had fallen into their hands. "strip them ere jackets oft in a hurry, 'case we's agwine tuh warm yuh up some. fear'd ye'd git cold in the night, was yuh? we'll fix it so't you won't need tuh worry 'bout feelin' the chill o' the night air. quick now, git bare down tuh the waist, er we'll hev tuh help ye strip!" ned did not say a word of protest. he realized then and there that such a thing would be on the same principle as waving a red flag in front of an enraged bull. he looked at harry and jimmy and then began to unbutton his faded khaki coat, while the impatient giant started to snap his quirt viciously close to their ears, as though he could hardly wait until the time came to use it on their shrinking flesh. they did not dare linger too long, and yet it was without any heart that the chums began to disrobe. who could blame them for their hesitation and the beseeching looks they fastened on the red face of the big bully of the camp. but water falling on the rock would make as much impression as these looks seemed to do on hy adams. they were down to the last garment when harry uttered a little cry. "look, oh, look, ned, who's coming into camp!" he whispered; but jimmy must have also caught the words, for he immediately added: "sure, it's little amos and his poor maw; mebbe they know the camp's agoin' to be busted up and they got orders from the boss to come here, so's to travel along with the rest. but shucks! little amos and his maw can't help us any. they just come in time to see the circus--that's all!" and yet, strange as it might seem, a tiny glow of hope struggled up in ned's heart; just as though the coming of those two helpless ones might be the straw that was meant to swing the balance again in their favor, he knew not how! chapter xxii. the real boss--conclusion. ned saw amos, who was leading a couple of burros loaded with stuff apparently from the cabin on the creek, stop and stare at them. then he dropped the ropes by which he was leading the pack animals, and clutching his mother's dress pointed excitedly toward the spot where the drama was being conducted. just what he may have said ned did not know, but to his astonishment both amos and his "maw" started toward them, almost running in their eagerness to get there. some one among the rustlers must have seen them coming, for ned discovered that broad smiles were spreading over the faces of the men nearest him, and he wondered why this should be. he knew very soon. hy adams was bustling around and roaring as was his wont, because he saw the boys ceasing their efforts to disrobe, as he had ordered. "i done tole yuh what yuh'd git 'less yuh hurried, and take that!" he shouted at the top of his terrible voice, as he aimed a vicious cut at the nearest scout, who happened to be jimmy. the quirt struck him squarely across his shoulders, and as there was only a thin garment to protect the skin, jimmy gave utterance to an involuntary yell, though there may have possibly been more of anger in the outcry than distress. then something unexpected happened. that stinging quirt was snatched from the uplifted hand of the bully, and, as he whirled to see who dared interfere with his pleasure, he seemed rooted to the spot to discover the blazing face of a wiry little woman thrust close up to his. "what's all this mean, hy adams, you big hulking coward!" she shrilled in tones that could be heard all over the camp; "here you darin' to whip the brave boys that saved our amos from bein' drawed down in a quicksand! i told 'em when they stopped in to see me that i'd do anything i could to pay 'em back, and seems like the time has come sooner'n we thought it would. jest drap them whips--all of ye! there ain't agoin' to be any fun like that to-night, you hear me, hy adams? tell the pack to clear out. hurry up now, and do what i say, or i'll humble you afore the hull crowd!" there never was such a complete change in a man as had come over the giant. in that apparently meek little woman he knew of old that he had his boss. ned understood now plainly enough what amos meant every time he mentioned his step-father as being such a bully that men jumped to do his bidding; and, on each occasion, wound up with a few mysterious words that, at the time, had piqued his, ned's, curiosity very much. hy adams glared at his wife for a full minute; but if anything her snapping eyes blazed with more fire than ever. then he wilted, as a starched linen collar is likely to do on a hot summer day. "shore, it's all right, belinda, if yuh sez so," he said weakly, "we was jest agivin' 'em a little skeer tuh pay up fur them havin' knocked us out o' a bully lot o' prize steers. but i sure reckons as how they been punished enough. turn around, boys, and let it go till mornin', when we'll kerry out our plans." "not if they mean any harm acomin' to these boys, just put that in yer pipe and smoke it, hy adams," his wife told him, as she shook her fore finger under his nose; then she suddenly thrust her whole hand against his face, and continued: "now, make yerself skeerce, 'cause i wants to talk with these boys. but i'll be awatchin' you, hy adams, don't forgit that. and i allers keep my word, you know." then ned understood what amos had meant when he said there were "high old times" at home every time this big step-father of his came around, and that his visits were getting less numerous. after that the boys had it easier. mrs. adams even got out several blankets of her own from the bundles on the pack animals and loaned them to the scouts; but all of them wished she hadn't been so kind, for they felt that now they must of necessity make use of the coverings, and it hurt some. by degrees the camp quieted down. jimmy was long since fast asleep, but then jimmy could get in that condition with only half a chance. harry had remained wakeful quite a while, but ned believed he, too, must have crossed over, for at times he was able to catch the regular breathing of his chum that seemed to tell of slumber and oblivion, so far as worries went. ned could not manage to forget himself. he turned from side to side and assumed all sorts of fresh attitudes, but his brain seemed too entirely active, for even when he closed his eyes he kept on thinking of everything under the sun. so midnight came and went. the small hours of the night had now arrived and, sure enough, a coolness began to spread about that made ned draw that blanket up closer to his face, much as he disliked doing so. once, as he was turning to avoid some small object that felt like a root and bored into his ribs under the double blanket, he saw something moving over among the bushes. looking a second time, ned was sure it must be a handkerchief. then it vanished and something else took its place, which he made out to be the face of a man. evidently the party must have been trying to catch his attention, for immediately he looked in that direction he saw the other make a warning gesture and then drop down again out of sight. ned was thrilled, for he understood from this significant sign that help must be at hand. who the man was he could not positively say. it may have been colonel job; then again he rather fancied that it was chunky, the lanky puncher, for whom all the scouts had conceived such a liking. lying there ned waited to see what was going to happen. he could hear the pawing of ponies that were secured near by. a dog bayed the moon, as his kind have a weakness for doing at a certain time of each month. other sounds there were, too, such as might be expected in a camp like that of the roaming cattle thieves. then ned began to notice movements here and there. he fancied that the camp was being surrounded, and how his heart thrilled with rapture at the thought. unable to keep the secret to himself, he kicked harry in the shins, and before that worthy could voice an indignant protest, ned was whispering the inspiring truth in his ear. in turn harry told jimmy, so that presently the three chums were lying there trying to catch fugitive glimpses of what was going on without exciting the suspicion of the cattle poachers. then there was a sudden loud cry of alarm. a woman, it turned out, had discovered the lurking shadowy figures in the bushes, when she awoke feeling feverish in the night, and started for the spring close by in order to quench her thirst. after that it was like a volcano when the whole top blows out. there were loud shouts and yells and screams; there came the quick detonation of firearms and the shrieks of women and children. the rustlers were taken quite by surprise, and besides a bunch of the double cross punchers the sheriff and his big posse was on hand, bent on wiping out the reproach that had so long existed in his territory, so that the camp was pretty well surrounded on every side. in spite of all precautions, however, when the turmoil and excitement were at their height, some of the men managed to break away and escape, at least for the time being. neither hy adams nor the leader, clem parsons, were among these lucky ones. ned himself had been quick to act. he had noticed so many things since coming to the rustlers' camp that he could put his finger on the spot where his rifle as also the weapons of his chums had been stowed. and his first act was to fling himself into that tent with all the eagerness of a hungry hawk. he had met a man crawling out and collided with him in such a clever way that the fellow was knocked senseless, while the only damage ned sustained was a lump on the side of his head, which later on yielded to treatment and witch hazel. no sooner had he found his rifle than ned was off, in hopes of running across the leader of the rustlers, clem parsons, the man who had one of the most checkered careers back of him known to secret service officials. once again luck was with ned, for he came upon the tall man with the scar on his left cheek just as he was making headlong for the neighboring rocks. if he had once passed from the sight of those who were busily engaged capturing the camp, there was every reason to suspect that the foxy rascal would not be come up with in a hurry again. "halt! throw up your hand, clem parsons. i've got a warrant for your arrest. the government wants you at washington, and i've been asked to fetch or send you there. this rifle shoots true, and my finger is on the trigger, so go slow if you know what's good for you!" the rascal saw that he was in a trap and that so long as that gun bore on him he would be next door to crazy to attempt any hostile move. so ned called to jack, whom he saw close by, to come and tie the hands of clem parsons behind his back until he could borrow a pair of steel handcuffs from the sheriff. hy adams was also in limbo. he had fought like a tiger, for he was possessed of a spirit of ferocity that could stand up before anything but the will of his little meek-looking wife; but a glancing blow from a clubbed gun knocked him out, and the sheriff had him fastened up so all his enormous strength was of no avail by the time his wits came back to him again. some of the rustlers managed to escape, but the gang was broken up for good as both leaders had fallen into the grip of the law. to finish with clem parsons it might be said that the scouts found a chance to send him on to where he was wanted and that in due time he received a long sentence. hy adams is still in a nevada penitentiary, and will be considerably older if he lives to complete the sentence he received, as a stealer of cattle and horses. amos and his mother removed to a town, where the boy could attend school. colonel job and his wife interested themselves in mrs. adams and saw that she was placed in a position where she could earn a good living doing sewing for the people of the neighboring ranches. amos expects to soon take his place as a regular puncher on the pay roll of the double cross, for boy that he is he has proven to be as expert at rounding up and branding cattle as any veteran might be. of course, having carried out his mission, ned could enjoy all that followed with a free heart. and harry, too, soon came to the conclusion that it would be a very good and profitable investment; so that his accounts of what the ranch was capable of producing soon convinced his father, who had every faith in the boy's judgment. of course, colonel job and mr. henshaw were delighted with the glowing prospect that opened out before them. what glorious times ned and his three scout chums did have during the period of their stay on the plains. they explored every nook within three days' journey, and even took a run over to the famous colorado canyon, where harry was able to feast his eyes to his heart's content on the strange rock homes of those cliff dwellers, the moqui indians; and jack took myriads of pictures of what they saw while in the gigantic cleft that is reckoned one of the seven wonders of the world. the vacation was all too short, and in the joy of the present they could even, for the time being, forget the terrible suffering they had endured while making their way across country from los angeles, first by automobile and then with pack mules purchased from a prospecting party that was starting back home disgusted with the hard luck that had pursued them. when the time came to say good-bye to the double cross ranch and the punchers who had come to think so highly of the scouts, ned and his three chums felt almost broken hearted. they would never forget all they had gone through with on this wonderful trip; and what with the copious notes taken on the way, while the stirring incidents were still fresh in their memories, and the abundance of fine pictures jack carried back with him, it would seem as though less fortunate members of the troop might get a pretty good idea of what had happened to their four comrades. of course, ned and his chums were bound to see other stirring adventures, and we only trust that it may be our privilege to write some of them up for the pleasure of those boys who delight to read of brave hearts and intrepid souls among the wearers of the khaki. the end. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ boy's copyrighted books printed from large, clear type on a superior quality of paper, embellished with original illustrations by eminent artists, and bound in a superior quality of binders' cloth, ornamented with illustrated covers, stamped in colors from unique and appropriate dies, each book wrapped in a glazed paper wrapper printed in colors. boy scout series by g. harvey ralphson, of the black bear patrol. . boy scouts in mexico; or, on guard with uncle sam. . boy scouts in the canal zone; or, the plot against uncle sam. . boy scouts in the philippines; or, the key to the treaty box. . boy scouts in the northwest; or, fighting forest fires. . boy scouts in a motor boat; or, adventures on the columbia river. . boy scouts in an airship; or, the warning from the sky. . boy scouts in a submarine; or, searching an ocean floor. . boy scouts on motorcycles; or, with the flying squadron. . boy scouts beyond the arctic circle; or, the lost expedition. . boy scout camera club; or, the confessions of a photograph. . boy scout electricians; or, the hidden dynamo. . boy scouts in california; or, the flag on the cliff. . boy scouts on hudson bay; or, the disappearing fleet. . boy scouts in death valley; or, the city in the sky. . boy scouts on the open plains; or, the round-up not ordered. . boy scouts in southern waters; or, the spanish treasure chest . boy scouts in belgium; or, under fire in flanders . boy scouts in the north sea; or, the mystery of u- . boy scouts under the kaiser; or, the uhlans in peril . boy scouts with the cossacks; or, poland recaptured the motorcycle chums series by andrew carey lincoln . motorcycle chums in the land of the sky; or, thrilling adventures on the carolina border. . motorcycle chums in new england; or, the mount holyoke adventure. . motorcycle chums on the sante fé trail; or, the key to the treaty box. . motorcycle chums in yellowstone park; or, lending a helping hand. . motorcycle chums in the adirondacks; or, the search for the lost pacemaker. . motorcycle chums storm bound; or, the strange adventures of a road chase. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ boys' copyrighted books the most attractive and highest class list of copyrighted books for boys ever printed. in this list will be found the works of w. bert foster, capt. ralph bonehill, arthur m. winfield, etc. printed from large clear type, illustrated, bound in a superior quality of cloth. the clint webb series by w. bert foster . swept out to sea; 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by c. w. phillips. through apache land; or, ned in the mountains; by lieut r. h. tayne. bright and bold series by arthur m. winfield poor but plucky; or, the mystery of a flood. school days of fred harley; or, rivals for all honors. by pluck, not luck; or, dan granbury's struggle to rise. the missing tin box; or, hal carson's remarkable city adventure. college library for boys by archdeacon farrar julian home; or, a tale of college life. st. winifred's; or, the world of school. for sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of cents. m. a. donohue & co. - so. dearborn street, chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ boys' copyrighted books printed from large, clear type on a superior quality of paper, embellished with original illustrations by eminent artists, and bound in a superior quality of book binders' cloth, ornamented with illustrated covers, stamped in colors from unique and appropriate dies, each book wrapped in a glazed paper wrapper printed in colors. motor boat boys series by louis arundel . the motor club's cruise down the mississippi; 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or, with pack and paddle in the pine woods. . rocky mountain boys; or, camping in the big game country. for sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of cents. m. a. donohue & co. - so. dearborn street, chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ always ask for the donohue complete editions and you will get the best for the least money henty series for boys g. a. henty was the most prolific writer of boy's stories of the nineteenth century. from two to five books a year came from his facile pen. no christmas holidays were complete without a new "henty book." this new series comprises titles. they are printed on an extra quality of paper, from new plates and bound in the best quality of cloth, stamped on back and side in inks from unique and attractive dies. mo. cloth. each book in a printed wrapper. among malay pirates lion of st. mark bonnie prince charlie lion of the north boy knight, the lost heir, the bravest of the brave maori and settler by england's aid one of the th by pike and dyke orange and green by right of conquest out on the pampas by sheer pluck queen's cup, the captain bayley's heir rujub, the juggler cat of bubastes st. george for england col. thorndyke's secret sturdy and strong cornet of horse, the through the fray dragon and the raven true to the old flag facing death under drake's flag final reckoning, a with clive in india for name and fame with lee in virginia for the temple with wolfe in canada friends, though divided young buglers, the golden canon young carthaginians in freedom's cause young colonists, the in the reign of terror young franc-tireurs in times of peril young midshipman jack archer all of the above books may be had at the store where this book was bought, or will be sent postpaid at c per copy by the publishers m. a. donohue & co. - s. dearborn st., chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ best books now ready oliver optic series for a full generation the youth of america has been reading and re-reading "oliver optic." no genuine boy ever tires of this famous author who knew just what boys wanted and was always able to supply his wants. books are attractively bound in art shades of english vellum cloth, three designs stamped in three colors. printed from large type on an extra quality of clean flexible paper. each book in glazed paper wrapper. mo cloth. all aboard poor and proud brave old salt rich and humble boat club, the sailor boy, the fighting joe soldier boy, the haste and waste try again hope and have watch and wait in school and out work and win little by little the yankee middy now or never the young lieutenant outward bound always ask for the donohue complete editions and you will get the best for the least money all of the above books may be had at the store where this book was bought, or will be sent postpaid at c per copy by the publishers m. a. donohue & co. - s. dearborn st., chicago the boys of crawford's basin _the story of a mountain ranch in the early days of colorado_ by sidford f. hamp _author of "dale and fraser, sheepmen," etc._ illustrated by chase emerson w. a. wilde company boston chicago _copyrighted, _ by w. a. wilde company _all rights reserved_ the boys of crawford's basin [illustration: "there was big reuben looking down at us"] preface in relating the adventures of "the boys of crawford's basin," the author has endeavored to depict the life of the ranchman in the mountains of colorado as he knew it towards the end of the "seventies" of the century just past. at that date, the railroads, after their long climb from the missouri river to the foot of the rocky mountains, were still seeking a practicable passage westward over that formidable barrier, and in consequence, the mountain ranchman--who, by the way, was also sometimes a prospector and frequently a hunter--having no means of shipping his produce to the outside world, depended for his market upon one or another of the many little silver-mining camps scattered over the state. that infant state was but just learning to walk without leading-strings; and it has been the aim of the author to show how two stout young fellows, prone to honesty and not afraid of hard work, were able to do their share in advancing the prosperity of the growing commonwealth in which their lot was cast. it may not be out of place, perhaps, to mention that, besides having had considerable experience in ranching, the author was, about the date of the story, himself prospecting for silver and working as a miner. he would add, too, that several of the incidents related therein, and those in his opinion the most remarkable, are drawn from actual facts. contents i. big reuben's raid ii. crawford's basin iii. yetmore's mistake iv. lost in the clouds v. what we found in the pool vi. long john butterfield vii. the hermit's warning viii. the wild cat's trail ix. the underground stream x. how tom connor went boring for oil xi. tom's second window xii. tom connor's scare xiii. the ore-theft xiv. the snow-slide xv. the big reuben vein xvi. the wolf with wet feet xvii. the draining of the "forty rods" illustrations page "there was big reuben looking down at us" _frontispiece_ "ah, sox, is that you?'" "we saw before us a very curious sight" "'can folks see in from outside?'" "he shot downward like an arrow" the boys of crawford's basin chapter i big reuben's raid "wake up, boys! wake up! tumble out, there! quick! big reuben's into the pig-pen again!" our bedroom door was banged wide open, and my father stood before us--a startling apparition--dressed only in his night-shirt and a pair of boots, carrying a stable-lantern in one hand and a rifle in the other. "what is it?" cried joe, as he bounced out of bed; and, "where is it?" cried i, both of us half dazed by the sudden awakening. "it's big reuben raiding the pig-pen again! can't you hear 'em squealing? come on at once! bring the eight-bore, joe; and you, phil, get the torch and the revolver. quick; or he'll kill every hog in the pen!" big reuben was not a two-legged thief, as one might suppose from his name. he was a grizzly bear, a notorious old criminal, who, for the past two or three years, had done much harm to the ranchmen of our neighborhood, killing calves and colts and pigs--especially pigs. like a robber-baron of old, he laid tribute on the whole community, raiding all the ranches in turn, traveling great distances during the night, but always retreating to his lair among the rocks before morning. this had gone on for a long time, when one day, in broad daylight, while ole johnson, the swede, was plowing his upper potato-patch, the grizzly jumped down from a ledge of rocks and with one blow of his paw broke the back of ole's best work-steer; ole himself, frightened half to death, flying for refuge to his stable, where he shut himself up in the hay-loft for the rest of the day. this outrage had the effect of waking up the county commissioners, who, understanding at last that we had been terrorized long enough, now offered a reward of one hundred dollars for bruin's scalp--an offer which stimulated all the hunters round about to run the marauder to his lair. but big reuben was as crafty as he was bold. his home was up in one of the rocky gorges of mount lincoln to the west of us, where it would be useless to try to trail him; and after jed smith had been almost torn to pieces, and his partner, baldy atkins, had spent two nights and a day up a tree, the enthusiasm of the hunters had suddenly waned and big reuben's closer acquaintance had been shunned by all alike. thereafter, the bear had continued his depredations unchecked. among his many other pieces of mischief, he had killed a valuable calf for us once, once before he had raided the pig-pen, and now here he was again. without waiting to put on any extra clothing, joe and i followed my father through the kitchen, i grabbing a revolver from its nail in the wall, and joe snatching down the great eight-bore duck-gun and slipping into it two cartridges prepared for this very contingency, each cartridge containing twelve buck-shot and a big spherical bullet--a terrific charge for close quarters. once outside the kitchen-door, i ran to the wood-shed and seized the torch which, like the cartridges, had been made ready for this emergency. it consisted of a broom-handle with a great wad of waste, soaked in kerosene, bound with wire to one end of it. lighting the torch, i held it high and followed two paces behind the others as they advanced towards the pig-pen. we had not progressed twenty yards, however--luckily for us, as it turned out--when there issued through the roof of the pen a great dark body, dimly seen by the light of the torch. "there he is!" cried my father, as the bear dropped out of sight behind the corral fence. "look out, now! we'll get a shot at him as he runs up the hill!" but big reuben had no intention whatever of running up the hill; he feared neither man nor beast, and the next moment he appeared round the corner of the corral, charging full upon us, open-mouthed. with a single impulse, we all fired one shot at him and then turned and fled, helter-skelter, for the kitchen, all tumbling in together, treading on each others' heels; my father slamming behind us the door, which fortunately opened outward. the kitchen was a slight frame structure, built on to the back of the house as a t-shaped addition. we were barely inside when bang! came a heavy body against the door, with such force as to send several milk-pans clashing to the floor. my father had hastily loaded again, and now, hearing the bear's paws patting high up on the door, he fired a chance shot through it. the bear was hit, seemingly, for we heard him grunt; but that he was not killed by any means was evident, for the next moment, with a clattering crash, the kitchen window, glass, frame and all, was knocked into the room, and a great hairy arm and fierce, grinning head were thrust through the gap. joe, who was standing just opposite the window, jumped backward, and catching his heels against the great tub wherein the week's wash was soaking, he sat down in it with a splash. seeing this, i sprang forward and thrust my torch into the bear's face; upon which he dropped to the ground again. a half-second later, joe, still sitting in the tub, fired his second barrel. it was a good shot, but just a trifle too late, and its only effect was to blow my torch to shreds, leaving us with the dim light of the lantern only. "into the house!" shouted my father; whereupon we all retreated from the kitchen into the main building. there, while joe held the door partly open and i held the lantern so as to throw a light into the kitchen, my father knelt upon the floor waiting for the bear to give him another chance. but big reuben was much too clever to do anything of the sort; he was not going to put himself into any such trap as that; and presently my mother from up-stairs called out that she could see him going off. we waited about for half an hour, but as there was no more disturbance we all went back to bed, where for another half-hour joe and i lay talking, unable, naturally, to go to sleep at once after such a lively stirring-up. by sunrise next morning we were all out to see what damage had been done. the bear had torn a great hole in the roof of the pen, had jumped in and had killed and partly eaten one pig, choosing, as a bear of his sagacity naturally would, the best one. we were fortunate, though, to have come off so cheaply; doubtless the light of our torch shining through the chinks of the logs had disturbed him. if there had been any question as to the marauder's identity, that was settled at once. his tracks were plain in the dust, and as one of his hind feet showed no marks of claws, we knew it was big reuben; for big reuben had once been caught in a trap and had only freed himself by leaving his toe-nails behind him. outside the kitchen door and window the tracks were very plain; there was also a good deal of blood, showing that he had been hit at least once. but it was evident also that he had not been hurt very seriously, for there was no irregularity in his trail--no swaying from side to side, as from weakness--though we followed it up to the point where, at the upper end of our valley, the bear had climbed the cliff which bounded the second mesa. though on this occasion he had thought fit to run away, there was little doubt but that he would live to fight another day. "father," said i, as we sat together at breakfast, "may joe and i go and trail him up? if he keeps on bleeding it ought to be easy, and it is just possible that we might find him dead." my father at first shook his head, but presently, reconsidering, he replied: "well, you may go; but you must go on your ponies: it's too dangerous to go a-foot. and in any case, if the trail leads you up to the loose rocks or into the big timber you must stop. you know what a tricky beast big reuben is. if he sees that he is followed he will lie in hiding and jump out on you. that's how he caught jed smith, you remember." "we'll take care, father," said i. "we'll stick to our ponies, and then we shall be all safe." "very well, then; be off with you." with this permission we set off, i carrying a rifle and joe his "old cannon," as he called the big shotgun; each with a crust of bread and a slice or two of bacon in his pocket by way of lunch. picking up the trail where we had left it at the foot of the second mesa, we scrambled up the little cliff, looking out very sharply lest big reuben should be lying in wait for us in some crevice, and finding that the tracks led straight away for mount lincoln, we followed them, i doing the tracking while joe kept watch ahead. the surface of the second mesa was very uneven: there were many little rocky hills and many small cañons, some of the latter as much as a hundred feet deep, so, keeping in mind the bear's crafty nature, whenever the trail led us near any of these obstacles i would stand still while joe examined the cañon or the rocks, as the case might be. every time we did this, however, we drew a blank. the trail continued to lead straight away for the mountain without diverging to one side or the other, and for five or six miles we followed it until the stunted cedars began to give place to pine trees, when we decided that we might as well stop, especially as for some time past there had ceased to be any blood-marks on the stones and we had been following only the occasional imprint of the bear's paws in the patches of sand. "the trail is headed straight for that rocky gorge, phil," said my companion, pointing forward, "and it's no use going on. even if your father hadn't forbidden it, i wouldn't go into that gorge, knowing that big reuben was in there somewhere, not if the county commissioners should offer me the whole county as a reward." "nor i, either," said i. "big reuben may have his mountain all to himself as far as i'm concerned. so, come on; let's get back. what time is it?" "after noon," replied joe, looking up at the sun. "we've been a long time coming, but it won't take us more than half the time going back. let's dig out at once." turning our ponies, we set off at an easy lope, and had ridden about two miles on the back track when, skirting along the edge of one of the little cañons i have mentioned, we noticed a tiny spring of water, which, issuing from the face of the cliff close to the top, fell in a thin thread into the chasm. "joe," said i, "let's stop here and eat our lunch. i'm getting pretty hungry." "all right," said joe; and in another minute we were seated on the edge of the cliff with our feet dangling in space, munching our bread and bacon, while the ponies, with the reins hanging loose, were cropping the scanty grass just behind us. about five feet below where we sat was a little ledge some eighteen inches wide, which, on our left, gradually sloped upward until it came to the top, while in the other direction it sloped downward, diminishing in width until it "petered out" entirely. the little spring fell upon this ledge, and running along it, fell off again at its lower end. as the best place to fill our tin cup was where the water struck the ledge, we, when we had finished our lunch, walked down to that point. filling the cup, i was in the act of handing it to joe, who was behind me, when a sudden clatter of hoofs caused us to straighten up. our eyes came just above the level of the cliff, and the first thing they encountered was big reuben himself, not ten feet away, coming straight for us at a run! "duck!" yelled joe; and down we went--only just in time, too, for the bear's great claws rattled on the surface of the rock as he made a slap at us. where had he come from? had he followed us back from the mountain? hardly: we had come too quickly. had he seen us coming in the early morning, and, making a circuit out of our sight, lain in wait for us as we returned? such uncanny cleverness seemed hardly possible, even for big reuben, clever as he was known to be. these questions, however, did not occur to us at the moment. all that concerned us just then was that there was big reuben, looking down at us from the edge of the cliff. there was no doubt that it was the same bear we had interviewed in the night, for all the hair on one side of his face was singed off where i had thrust at him with the torch, while one of his ears was tattered and bloody, showing that some of joe's buck-shot, at least, had got him as he dropped from the window. joe and i were on our hands and knees, when the bear, going down upon his chest, reached for us with one of his paws. he could not quite touch us, but he came so uncomfortably close that we crept away down the ledge, which, dipping pretty sharply, soon put us out of his reach altogether. seeing this, the bear rose to his feet again, gazed at us for a moment, and then stepped back out of sight. "has he gone?" i whispered; but before joe could answer big reuben appeared again, walking down the ledge towards us. of course we sidled away from him, until the ledge had become so narrow that i could go no farther; and lucky it was for us that the ledge was narrow, for what was standing-room for us was by no means standing-room for the bear: his body was much too thick to allow him to come near us, or even to approach the spot whence we had just retreated. as it was obvious that the bear could advance no farther, for he was standing on the very edge of the ledge and there was a bulge in the rock before him which would inevitably have pushed him off into the chasm had he attempted to pass it, joe and i returned to the spring, where we had room to stand or to sit down as we wished. the enemy watched our approach, with a glint of malice in his little piggy eyes, but when he saw that we intended to come no nearer, he lay down where he was and began unconcernedly licking his paws. "he thinks he can starve us out," said joe; "but if i'm not mistaken we can stand it longer than he can, even if he did eat half a pig last night. and there's one thing certain, phil: if we don't get home to-night, somebody will come to look for us in the morning." "yes," i assented. "but they'll get a pretty bad scare at home if we don't turn up. is there no way of sending that beast off? if we could only get hold of one of the guns----" by standing upright we could see my rifle lying on the ground and joe's big gun standing with its muzzle pointed skyward, leaning against a boulder. they were only six feet away, but six feet were six feet: we could not reach them without climbing up, and that was out of the question--the bear could get there much more quickly than we could. "phil!" exclaimed my companion, suddenly. "have you got any twine in your pocket?" "yes," i replied, pulling out a long, stout piece of string. "why?" "perhaps we can 'rope' my gun. see, its muzzle stands clear. then we could drag it within reach." i very soon had a noose made, and being the more expert roper of the two i swung it round and round my head, keeping the loop wide open, and threw it. my very first cast was successful. the noose fell over the muzzle of the gun and settled half way down the barrel, where it was stopped by the rock. "good!" whispered joe. "now, tighten it up gently and pull the gun over." i followed these directions, and presently we heard the gun fall with a clatter upon the rocks; for, fearing it might go off when it fell, we had both ducked below the rim of the wall. our actions had made the bear suspicious, and when the gun came clattering down he rose upon his hind feet and looked about him. seeing nothing moving, however, he came down again, when i at once began to pull the gun gently towards me, keeping my head down all the time lest one of the hammers, catching against a rock, should explode the charge. at length, thinking it should be near enough, i ceased pulling, when joe straightened up, reached out, and, to my great delight, when he withdrew his hand the gun was in it. ah! what a difference it made in our situation! joe, first opening the breach to make sure the gun was loaded, advanced as near the bear as he dared, and kneeling down took careful aim at his chest. but presently he lowered the gun again, and turning to me, said: "phil, can you do anything to make him turn his head so that i can get a chance at him behind the ear? i'm afraid a shot in front may only wound him." "all right," said i. "i'll try." with my knife i pried out of the face of the cliff a piece of stone about the size and shape of the palm of my hand, and aiming carefully i threw it at the bear. it struck him on the very point of his nose--a tender spot--and seemingly hurt him a good deal, for, with an angry snarl, he rose upright on his hind feet. at that instant a terrific report resounded up and down the cañon, the whole charge of joe's ponderous weapon struck the bear full in the chest--i could see the hole it made--and without a sound the great beast dropped from the ledge, fell a hundred feet upon the rocks below, bounded two or three times and then lay still, all doubled up in a heap at the bottom. big reuben had killed his last pig! chapter ii crawford's basin you might think, perhaps, as many people in our neighborhood thought, that joe was my brother. as a matter of fact he was no relation at all; he had dropped in upon us, a stranger, two years before, and had stayed with us ever since. it was in the haying season that he came, at a moment when my father and i were overwhelmed with work; for it was the summer of , the year of "the leadville excitement," when all the able-bodied men in the district were either rushing off to leadville itself or going off prospecting all over the mountains in the hope of unearthing other leadvilles. ranch work was much too slow for them, and as a consequence it was impossible for us to secure any help that was worth having. what made it all the more provoking was that we had that year an extra-fine stand of grass--the weather, too, was magnificent--yet, unless we could get help, it was hardly likely that we could take full advantage of our splendid hay-crop. nevertheless, as what could not be cured must be endured, my father and i tackled the job ourselves, working early and late, and we were making very good progress, all things considered, when we had the misfortune to break a small casting in our mowing-machine; a mishap which would probably entail a delay of several days until we could get the piece replaced. it was just before noon that this happened, and we had brought the machine up to the wagon-shed and had put up the horses, when, on stepping out of the stable, we were accosted by a tall, black haired, blue eyed young fellow of about my own age, who asked if he could get a job with us. "yes, you can," replied my father, promptly; and then, remembering the accident to the machine, he added, "at least, you can as soon as i get this casting replaced," holding out the broken piece as he spoke. "may i look at it?" asked the young fellow; and taking it in his hand he went on: "i see you have a blacksmith-shop over there; i think i can duplicate this for you if you'll let me try: i was a blacksmith's apprentice only a month ago." "do you think you can? well, you shall certainly be allowed to try. but come in now: dinner will be ready in five minutes; you shall try your hand at blacksmithing afterwards. what's your name?" "joe garnier," replied the boy. "i come from iowa. i was going to leadville, but i met so many men coming back, with tales of what numbers of idle men there were up there unable to get work, that, hearing of a place called sulphide as a rising camp, i decided to go there instead. this is the right way to get there, isn't it?" "yes, this is the way to sulphide. did you expect to get work as a miner?" "well, i intended to take any work i could get, but if you can give me employment here, i'd a good deal rather work out in the sun than down in a hole in the ground." "you replace that casting if you can, and i'll give you work for a month, at least, and longer if we get on well together." "thank you," said the stranger; and with that we went into the house. the newcomer started well: he won my mother's good opinion at once by wiping his boots carefully before entering, and by giving himself a sousing good wash at the pump before sitting down to table. it was plain he was no ordinary tramp--though, for that matter, the genus "tramp" had not yet invaded the three-year-old state of colorado--for his manners were good; while his clear blue eyes, in contrast with his brown face and wavy black hair, gave him a remarkably bright and wide-awake look. as soon as dinner was over, we all repaired to the blacksmith-shop, where joe at once went to work. it was very evident that he knew what he was about: every blow seemed to count in the right direction; so that in about half an hour he had fashioned his piece of iron into the desired shape, when he plunged it into the tub of water, and then, clapping it into the vise, went to work on it with a file; every now and then comparing it with the broken casting which lay on the bench beside him. "there!" he exclaimed at last. "i believe that will fit." and, indeed, when he laid them side by side, one would have been puzzled to tell which was which, had not the old piece been painted red while the other was not painted at all. joe was right: the piece did fit; and in less than an hour from the time we had finished dinner we were at work again in the hay-field. the month which followed was a strenuous one, but by the end of it we had the satisfaction of knowing that we had put up the biggest crop of hay ever cut on the ranch. our new helper, who was a tall, stout fellow for his age, and an untiring worker, proved to be a capital hand, and though at first he was somewhat awkward, being unused to farm labor, before we had finished he could do a better day's work than i could, in spite of the fact that i had been a ranch boy ever since i had been a boy at all. we all took a great liking for joe, and we were very pleased, therefore, when, the hay being in, it was arranged that he should stay on. for there was plenty of work to be done that year--extra work, i mean--such as building fences, putting up an ice-house and so forth, in which joe, having a decided mechanical turn, proved a valuable assistant. so, when the spring came round again it found joe still with us; and with us he continued to stay, becoming so much one of the family that many people, as i said, who did not know his story, supposed that he and i were brothers in fact, as we soon learned to become brothers in feeling. long before this, of course, joe had told us all about himself and how he had come to leave his old home and make his way westward. of french-canadian descent, the boy, left an orphan at three years of age, had been taken in by a neighbor, a kind-hearted blacksmith, and with him he had lived for the twelve years following, when the blacksmith, now an old man, had decided to go out of business. just at this time "the leadville excitement" was making a great stir in the country; thousands of men were heading for the new eldorado, and joe, his old friend consenting, determined to join the throng. it was, perhaps, lucky for the young blacksmith that he started rather late, for, on his approach to the mountains, he encountered files of disappointed men streaming in the opposite direction, and hearing their stories of the overcrowded condition of things in leadville, he determined to try instead the mining camp of sulphide, when, passing our place on the way he was caught by my father, as i have described, and turned into a ranchman. such was the condition of affairs with us when big reuben made his final raid upon our pig-pen. the reward of one hundred dollars which the county paid us for our exploit in ridding the community of big reuben's presence came in very handily for joe and me. it enabled us to achieve an object for which we had long been hoarding our savings--the purchase of a pair of mules. for the past two years, in the slack season, after the gathering of our hay and potato crops, we had hired out during the fine weather remaining to a man whose business it was to cut and haul timbers for the mines in and around the town of sulphide, which lay in the mountains seven miles southwestward from our ranch. we found it congenial work, and joe and i, who were now seventeen years old, hardened to labor with ax, shovel or pitchfork, saw no reason why we should not put in these odd five or six weeks cutting timbers on our own account. no reason but one, that is to say. my father would readily lend us one of his wagons, but he could not spare a team, and so, until we could procure a team of our own, we were obliged to forego the honor and glory--to say nothing of the expected profits--of setting up as an independent firm. now, however, we had suddenly and unexpectedly acquired the necessary funds, and with the money in our pockets away we went at once to ole johnson's, from whom we bought a stout little pair of mouse-colored mules upon which we had long had an eye. but though the firm of crawford and garnier might now, if it pleased, consider itself established, it could not enter upon the practice of its business for some time yet. it was still the middle of summer, and there was plenty to do on the ranch: the hay and the oats would be ready to cut in two weeks, while after that there were the potatoes to gather--a very heavy piece of work. all these tasks had to be cleared out of the way before we could move up to sulphide to begin on our timber-cutting enterprise. but between the harvesting of the oats and the gathering of the potato-crop there occurred an incident, which, besides being remarkable in itself, had a very notable effect upon my father's fortunes--and, incidentally, upon our own. to make understandable the ins and outs of this matter, i must pause a moment to describe the situation of our ranch; for it is upon the peculiarity of its situation that much of my story hinges. anybody traveling westward from san remo, the county seat, with the idea of getting up into the mountains, would encounter, about a mile from town, a rocky ridge, which, running north and south, extended for several miles each way. ascending this bluff and still going westward, he would presently encounter a second ridge, the counterpart of the first, and climbing that in turn he would find himself upon the wide-spreading plateau known as the second mesa, which extended, without presenting any serious impediment, to the foot of the range--itself one of the finest and ruggedest masses of mountains in the whole state of colorado. in a deep depression of the first mesa--known as crawford's basin--lay our ranch. this "basin" was evidently an ancient lake-bed--as one could tell by the "benches" surrounding it--but the water of the lake having in the course of ages sawed its way out through the rocky barrier, now ran off through a little cañon about a quarter of a mile long. the natural way for us to get from the ranch down to san remo was to follow the stream down this cañon, but, curiously enough, for more than half the year this road was impassable. the lower end of crawford's basin, for a quarter of a mile back from the entrance of the cañon, was so soft and water-logged that not even an empty wagon could pass over it. in fact, so soft was it that we could not get upon it to cut hay and were obliged to leave the splendid stand of grass that grew there as a winter pasture. in the cold weather, when the ground froze up, it was all right, but at the first breath of spring it began to soften, and from then until winter again we could do nothing with it. it was, in fact, little better than a source of annoyance to us, for, until we fenced it off, our milk cows, tempted by the luxuriant grass, were always getting themselves mired there. this wet patch was known to every teamster in the county as "the bottomless forty rods," and was shunned by them like a pestilence. its existence was a great drawback to us, for, between san remo, where the smelters were, and the town of sulphide, where the mines were, there was a constant stream of wagons passing up and down, carrying ore to the smelters and bringing back provisions, tools and all the other multitudinous necessaries required by the population of a busy mining town. had it not been for the presence of "the bottomless forty rods," all these wagons would have come through our place and we should have done a great trade in oats and hay with the teamsters. but as it was, they all took the mesa road, which, though three miles longer and necessitating the descent of a long, steep hill where the road came down from the first mesa to the plains, had the advantage of being hard and sound at all seasons of the year. my father had spent much time and labor in the attempt to make a permanent road through this morass, cutting trenches and throwing in load after load of stones and brush and earth, but all in vain, and at length he gave it up--though with great reluctance. for, not only did the teamsters avoid us, but we, ourselves, when we wished to go with a load to san remo, were obliged to ascend to the mesa and go down by the hill road. the cause of this wet spot was apparently an underground stream which came to the surface at that point. the creek which supplied us with water for irrigation had its sources on mount lincoln and falling from the second mesa into our basin in a little waterfall some twelve feet high, it had scooped out a circular hole in the rock about a hundred feet across and then, running down the length of the valley, found its way out through the cañon. now this creek received no accession from any other stream in its course across the basin, but for all that the amount of water in the cañon was twice as great as that which came over the fall; showing conclusively that the marsh whence the increase came must be supplied by a very strong underground stream. the greater part of crawford's basin was owned by my father, philip crawford, the elder, but a portion of it, about thirty acres at the upper end, including the pool, the waterfall and the best part of the potato land, was owned by simon yetmore, of sulphide. my father was very desirous of purchasing this piece of ground, for it would round out the ranch to perfection, but yetmore, knowing how much he desired it, asked such an unreasonable price that their bargaining always fell through. being unable to buy it, my father therefore leased it, paying the rent in the form of potatoes delivered at yetmore's store in sulphide--for simon, besides being mayor of sulphide and otherwise a person of importance, was proprietor of yetmore's emporium, by far the largest general store in town. he was an enterprising citizen, simon was, always having many irons in the fire; a clever fellow, too, in his way; though his way was not exactly to the taste of some people: he drove too hard a bargain. in fact, the opinion was pretty general that his name fitted him to a nicety, for, however much he might get, he always wanted yet more. my father distrusted him; yet, strange to say, in spite of that fact, and of the added fact that he had always fought shy of all mining schemes, he and yetmore were partners in a prospecting venture. it was, in a measure, an accident, and it came about in this way: the smelter-men down at san remo were always crying out for more lead-ores to mix with the "refractory" ores produced by most of the mines in our district, publishing a standing offer of an extra-good price for all ores containing more than a stated percentage of lead. in spite of the stimulus this offer gave to the prospecting of the mountains, north, south and west of us, there had been found but one mine, the samson, of which the chief product was lead, and this did not furnish nearly enough to satisfy the wants of the smelter-men. its discovery, however, proved the existence of veins of galena--the ore from which lead chiefly comes--in one part of the district, and the prospectors became more active than ever; though without result. that section of country where the samson had been discovered was deeply overlaid with "wash," and as the veins were "blanket" veins--lying flat, that is--and did not crop out above the surface, their discovery was pretty much a matter of chance. among the prospectors was one, tom connor, who, having had experience in the lead-mines of missouri, proposed to adopt one of the methods of prospecting in use in that country, to wit, the core-drill. but to procure and operate a core-drill required money, and this tom connor had not. he therefore applied to simon yetmore, who agreed to supply part of the necessary funds--making good terms for himself, you may be sure--if tom would provide the rest. the rest, however, was rather more than the sum-total of tom's scanty capital, and so he came to my father, who was an old friend of his, and asked him to make up the difference. my father declined to take any share in the enterprise, for, though most of the ranchmen round about were more or less interested in mining, he himself looked upon it as being too near akin to gambling; but feeling well disposed towards tom, and the sum required being very moderate, he lent his friend the money, quite prepared, knowing tom's optimistic, harum-scarum character, never to see it again. in this expectation, however, he was happily deceived. it is true he did not get back his money, but he received his money's worth, and that in a very curious way. chapter iii yetmore's mistake three months had elapsed when tom connor turned up one day with a very long face. all his drilling had brought no result; he was at the end of his tether; he could see no possible chance of ever repaying the borrowed money, and so, said he, would my father take his interest in the drill in settlement of the debt? very reluctantly my father consented--for what did he want with a one-third share in a core-drill?--whereupon tom, the load of debt being off his mind, brightened up again in an instant--he was a most mercurial fellow--and forthwith he fell to begging my father's consent to his making one more attempt--just one. he was sure of striking it this time, he had studied the formation carefully and he had selected a spot where the chances of disappointment were, as he declared, "next-to-nothing." my father knew tom well enough to know that he had been just as sure twenty times before, but tom was so eager and so plausible that at last he agreed that he should sink one more hole--but no more. "and mind you, tom," said he, "i won't spend more than fifty dollars; that is the very utmost i can afford, and i believe i am only throwing that away. but i'll spend fifty just to satisfy you--but that's all, mind you." "fifty dollars!" exclaimed tom. "fifty! bless you, that'll be more than enough. twenty ought to do it. i'm going to make your fortune for twenty dollars, mr. crawford, and glad of the chance. you've treated me 'white,' and the more i can make for you the better i'll be pleased. inside of a week i'll be coming back here with a lead-mine in my pocket--you see if i don't." "all right, tom," said my father, laughing, as he shook hands with him. "i shall be glad to have it, even if it is only a pocket edition. so, good-bye, old man, and good luck to you." it was two days after this that my father at breakfast time turned to us and said: "boys, how would you like to take your ponies and go and see tom connor at work? there is not much to do on the ranch just now, and an outing of two or three days will do you good." needless to say, we jumped at the chance, and as soon as we could get off, away we went, delighted at the prospect of making an expedition into the mountains. the place where tom was at work was thirty miles beyond sulphide, a long ride, nearly all up hill, and it was not till towards sunset that we approached his camp. as we did so, a very surprising sight met our gaze: three men, close together, with their backs to us, down on their hands and knees, like mahomedans saying their prayers. "what are they up to?" asked joe. "have they lost something?" at this moment, my horse's hoof striking a stone caused the three men to look up. one was connor, one was his helper, and the other, to our surprise, was yetmore. connor sprang to his feet and ran towards us, crying: "what did i tell you, boys! what did i tell you! get off your ponies, quick, and come and see!" he was wild with excitement. we slid from our horses, and joining the other two, went down on our knees beside them. upon the ground before them lay the object of their worship: a "core" from the drill, neatly pieced together, about eight feet long and something less than an inch in diameter. of this core, four feet or more at one end and about half a foot at the other was composed of some kind of stone, but in between, for a length of three feet and an inch or two, it was all smooth, shining lead-ore. tom connor had struck it, and no mistake! "tom," said yetmore, as we all rose to our feet again, "this _looks_ like a pretty fair strike; but you've got to remember that we know nothing about the extent of the vein--one hole doesn't prove much. it is three feet thick at this particular point, but it may be only three inches five feet away; and as to its length and breadth, why, that's all pure speculation. all the same i'm ready to make a deal with you. i'll buy your interest or i'll sell you mine. what do you say?" "what's the use of that kind of talk?" growled connor. "you know i haven't a cent to my name. besides, i haven't any interest." "you--what!--you haven't any interest!" cried the other. "what do you mean?" "i've sold it." "sold it! who to?" "to mr. crawford, two days ago." "well, you are a----" yetmore began; but catching sight of tom's glowering face he stopped and substituted, "well, i'm sorry to hear it." "well, i ain't," said tom, shortly. "if mr. crawford makes a fortune out of it i'll be mighty well pleased. he's treated me 'white,' _he_ has." from the tone and manner of this remark it was easy to guess that tom did not love mr. yetmore: he had found him a difficult partner to get along with, probably. "i certainly hope he will," said yetmore, smiling, "for if he does i shall. sold it to mr. crawford, eh? so that accounts for you two boys being up here. got here just in time, didn't you? you'll stay over to-morrow, of course, and see tom uncover the vein?" "are you proposing to uncover it, tom?" i asked. "yes. it's only four feet down; one shot will do it. you'll stay too, i suppose, mr. yetmore?" "certainly," replied the other. but as he said it, i saw a change come over his face--it was a leathery face, with a large, long nose. some idea had occurred to him i was sure, especially when, seeing that i was looking at him, he dropped his eyes, as though fearing they might betray him. whatever the idea might be, however, i ceased to think of it when tom suggested that it was getting late and that we had better adjourn to the cabin for supper. taking our ponies over to the log stable, therefore, we gave them a good feed of oats, and soon afterwards were ourselves seated before a steaming hot meal of ham, bread and coffee; after which we spent an hour talking over the great strike, and then, crawling into the bunks, we very quickly fell asleep. early next morning we walked about half a mile up the mountain to the scene of the strike, when, having first shoveled away two or three feet of loose stuff, tom and his helper set to work, one holding the drill and the other plying the hammer, drilling a hole a little to one side of the spot whence the core had come. they were no more than well started when yetmore, remarking that he had forgotten his tobacco, walked back to the cabin to get it--an action to which joe and i, being interested in the drilling, paid little attention. it was only when connor, turning to select a fresh drill, asked where he was, that we remembered how long he had been gone. "gone back to the cabin, has he?" remarked tom. "well, he's welcome to stay there as far as i'm concerned." the work went on, until presently tom declared that they had gone deep enough, and while we others cleared away the tools, connor himself loaded and tamped the hole. "now, get out of the way!" cried he; and while we ran off and hid behind convenient trees, tom struck a match and lighted the fuse. the dull thud of an explosion shortly followed; but on walking back to the spot we were all greatly surprised to see that the rock had remained intact--it was as solid as ever. "well, that beats all!" exclaimed tom. "the thing has shot downward; it must be hollow underneath. we'll have to put in some short holes and crack it up." it did not take long to put in three short holes, and these being charged and tamped, we once more took refuge behind the trees while tom touched them off. this time there were three sharp explosions, a shower of fragments rattled through the branches above our heads, and on going to inspect the result we found that the rock had been so shattered that it was an easy matter to pry out the pieces with pick and crowbar--a task of which joe and i did our share. at length, the hole being now about three feet deep, joe, who was working with a crowbar, gave a mighty prod at a loose piece of rock, when, to the astonishment of himself and everybody else, the bottom of the hole fell through, and rock, crowbar and all, disappeared into the cavity beneath. "well, what kind of a vein is it, anyhow?" cried tom, going down upon his knees and peering into the darkness. "blest if there isn't a sort of cave down here. knock out some more, boys, and let me get down. this is the queerest thing i've struck in a long time." we soon had the hole sufficiently enlarged, when, by means of a rope attached to a tree, tom slid down into it, and lighting a candle, peered about. poor old tom! the change on his face would have been ludicrous had we not felt so sorry for him, when, looking up at us he said in lugubrious tones: "done again, boys! come down and see for yourselves." we quickly slid down the rope, when, our eyes having become accustomed to the light, tom pointed out to us the extraordinary accident that had caused him to believe he had struck a three-foot vein of galena. though there was no sign of such a thing on the surface, it was evident that the place in which we stood had at one time been a narrow, water-worn gully in the mountain-side. ages ago there had been a landslide, filling the little gully with enormous boulders. that these rocks came from the vein of the samson higher up the mountain was also pretty certain, for among them was one pear-shaped boulder of galena ore, standing upright, upon the apex of which rested the immense four-foot slab of stone through which tom had bored his drill-hole. by a chance that was truly marvelous, the drill, after piercing the great slab, had struck the very point of the galena boulder and had gone through it from end to end, so that when the core came up it was no wonder that even tom, experienced miner though he was, should have been deceived into the belief that he had discovered a three-foot vein of lead-ore. as a matter of fact, there was no vein at all--just one single chunk of galena, not worth the trouble of getting it out. connor's lead-mine after all had turned out to be only a "pocket edition." tom's disappointment was naturally extreme, but, as usual, his low spirits were only momentary. we had hardly climbed up out of the hole again when he suddenly burst out laughing. "ho, ho, ho!" he went, slapping his leg. "what will yetmore say? i'm sorry, phil, that i couldn't keep my promise to your father, but i'll own up that as far as yetmore is concerned i'm rather glad. i don't like the honorable simon, and that's a fact. what's he doing down at the cabin all this time, i wonder. come! let's gather up the tools and go down there: there's nothing more to be done here." on arriving at the cabin, yetmore's non-appearance was at once explained. fastened to the table with a fork was a piece of paper, upon which was written in pencil, "gone to look for the horses." of course, joe and i at once ran over to the stable. it was empty; all three of the horses were gone. "queer," remarked joe. "i feel sure i tied mine securely, but you see halters and all are gone." "yes," i replied. "and i should have relied upon our ponies' staying even if they had not been tied up; you know what good camp horses they are. let's go out and see which way they went." we made a cast all round the stable, and presently joe called out, "here they are, all three of them." i thought he had found the horses, but it was only their tracks he had discovered, which with much difficulty we followed over the stony ground, until, after half an hour of careful trailing, they led us to the dusty road some distance below camp, where they were plainly visible. "our ponies have followed yetmore's horse," said joe, after a brief inspection. "do you see, phil, they tread in his tracks all the time?" for the tracks left by our own ponies were easily distinguishable from those of yetmore's big horse, our animals being unshod. "what puzzles me though, joe," said i, "is that there are no marks of the halter-ropes trailing in the dust; and yet they went off with their halters." "that's true. i don't understand it. and there's another thing, phil: yetmore hasn't got on their trail yet, apparently; see, the marks of his boots don't show anywhere. he must be wandering in the woods still." "i suppose so. well, let us go on and see if they haven't stopped to feed somewhere." we went on for half a mile when we came to a spot where the tracks puzzled us still more. for the first time a man's footmarks appeared. that they were yetmore's i knew, for i had noticed the pattern of the nails in the soles of his boots as he had sat with his feet resting on a chair the night before. but where had he dropped from so suddenly? we could find no tracks on either side of the road--though certainly the ground was stony and would not take an impression easily--yet here they were all at once right on top of the horses' hoof-prints. moreover, his appearance seemed to have been the signal for a new arrangement in the position of the horses, for our ponies had here taken the lead, while yetmore's horse came treading in their tracks. moreover, again, twenty yards farther on, the horses had all broken into a gallop. what did it mean? "well, this is a puzzler!" exclaimed joe, taking off his hat and rumpling his hair, as his habit was in such circumstances. "how do you figure it out, phil?" "why," said i. "i'll tell you what i think. yetmore has caught sight of the horses strolling down the road and has followed them, keeping away from the road himself for fear they should see him and take alarm. dodging through the scrub-oak and cutting across corners, he has come near enough to them to speak to his own horse; the horse has stopped and yetmore has caught him. that was where his tracks first showed in the road. then he has jumped upon his horse and galloped after our ponies, which appear to have bolted." "that sounds reasonable," joe assented; "and in that case he'll head them and drive them back; so we may as well walk up to the cabin again and wait for him." to this i agreed, and we therefore turned round and retraced our steps. "there's only one thing about this that i can't understand," remarked joe, as we trudged up the hill, "and that is about the halters--why they leave no trail. that does beat me." "yes, that is certainly a queer thing; unless they managed to scrape them off against the trees before they took to the road. in that case, though, we ought to have found them; and anyhow it is hard to believe that all three horses should have done the same thing." we found tom very busy packing up when we reached the cabin, and on our telling him the result of our horse-hunt he merely nodded, saying, "well, they'll be back soon, i suppose, and then i'll ride down with you." "why, are you going to quit, tom?" i asked. "yes," he replied. "your father limited me to one more hole, you remember, and if i know him he'll stick to it; and as to working any longer for yetmore, no thank you; i've had enough of it." so saying, tom, who had already cleaned and put away the tools, began tumbling his scanty wardrobe into a gunny-sack, and this being done, he turned to us and said: "i've got a pony out at pasture about a mile up the valley. i'll go and bring him down; and while i'm gone you might as well pitch in and get dinner ready. you needn't provide for sandy yates: he's gone off already to see if he can get a job up at the samson." sandy yates was the helper. in an hour or less tom was back and we were seated at dinner, without yetmore, who had not yet turned up, when the conversation naturally fell upon the subject of the runaway horses. we related to tom how we had trailed them through the woods down to the road, told him of the sudden appearance of yetmore's tracks, and how the horses had then set off at a run, followed by yetmore. "but the thing i can_not_ understand," said joe, harking back to the old subject, "is why the halter-ropes don't show in the dust." "don't they?" exclaimed tom, suddenly sitting bolt upright and clapping his knife and fork down upon the table. "don't they? just you wait a minute." with that he jumped up, strode out of the cabin, and went straight across to the stable. in two minutes he was back again, and standing in the doorway, with his hands in his pockets, he said: "boys, i've got another surprise for you: yetmore's saddle's gone!" "his saddle gone!" i exclaimed. "is that why you went to the stable? did you expect to find it gone?" "that's just what i did." "you did! why?" without replying directly, tom came in, sat down, and leaning his elbows on the table, said, with a quiet chuckle, the meaning of which we could not understand: "should you like to know, boys, what yetmore did when he came down for his tobacco this morning? he went to the stable, saddled his horse, untied your two ponies and led them out. then he mounted his horse and taking the halter-ropes in his hand he led your ponies by a roundabout way through the woods down to the road. after leading them at a walk along the road for half a mile he dismounted--that was where his tracks showed--and either took off the halters and threw them away, or what is more likely, tied them up around the ponies' necks so that they shouldn't step on them. then he mounted again and went off at a gallop, driving your ponies ahead of him." as tom concluded, he leaned back in his chair, bubbling with suppressed merriment, until the sight of our round-eyed wonder was too much for him and he burst into uproarious laughter, which was so infectious that we could not help joining in, though the cause of it was a perfect mystery to us both. at length, when he had laughed himself out, he leaned forward again, and rubbing the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand, he said: "can't you guess, boys, why yetmore has gone off with your horses?" i shook my head. "no," said i, "unless he wants to steal them, and he'd hardly do that, i suppose." "no; anyhow not in such a bare-faced way as that. what he's after is to make you boys walk home." "make us walk home!" cried joe. "what should he want to do that for?" tom grinned, and in reply, said: "yetmore thought that as soon as we uncovered that fine three-foot vein of galena you would be for getting your ponies and galloping off home to tell mr. crawford of the great strike, and as he wanted to get there first he stole your ponies--temporarily--to make sure of doing it." "but why should he want to get there first?" i asked. "you are talking in riddles, tom, and we haven't the key." "no, i know you haven't. you don't know yetmore. i do. he's gone down to buy your father's share in the claim for next-to-nothing before he hears of the strike!" the whole thing was plain and clear now; and the hilarity of our friend, connor, was explained. he had no liking for yetmore, as we have seen, and it delighted him immeasurably to think of that too astute gentleman rushing off to buy my father's share of a valuable mine, and, if he succeeded, finding himself the owner of a worthless boulder instead. for myself, i was much puzzled how to act. naturally, i felt pretty indignant at yetmore's action, and it seemed to me that if, in trying to cheat my father, he should only succeed in cheating himself, it would be no more than just that he should be allowed to do so. but at the same time i thought that my father ought to be informed of the state of the case as soon as possible--he, not i, was the one to judge--and so, turning to connor, i asked him to lend me his pony so that i might set off at once. "what! and spoil the deal!" cried connor; and at first he was disposed to refuse. but on consideration, he added: "well, perhaps you're right. your father's an honest man, if ever there was one, and i doubt if he'd let even a man like yetmore cheat himself if he could help it; and so i suppose you must go and tell him the particulars as soon as you can. all i hope is that he will have made his deal before you get there. yes, you can take the pony." but it was not necessary to borrow connor's steed after all, for when we stepped outside the cabin, there were our own ponies coming up the road. the halters were fastened up round their necks, and they showed evident signs of having been run hard some time during the morning. presumably yetmore had abandoned them somewhere on the road and they had walked leisurely back. "well, boys," said connor, "we may as well all start together now; but as your ponies have had a good morning's work already, we can't expect to make the whole distance this evening. we'll stop over night at thornburg's, twenty miles down, and go on again first thing in the morning." this we did, and by ten o'clock we reached home, where the first person we encountered was my father. "well, tom," he cried, as the miner slipped down from his horse. "so you made a strike, did you?" at this tom opened his eyes pretty widely. "how did you know?" he asked. "i didn't know," my father replied, smiling, "but i guessed. does it amount to much?" "well, no, i can't say it does," tom replied, as he covered his mouth with his hand to hide the grin which would come to the surface. "yetmore's been here, i suppose?" he added, inquiringly. "yes, he has," answered my father, surprised in his turn. "why do you ask?" "oh, i just thought he might have, that's all." "yes, he was here yesterday afternoon. i sold him my one-third share." "did you?" asked tom, eagerly. "i hope you got a good price." "yes, i made a very satisfactory bargain. i traded my share for his thirty acres here, so that now, at last, i own the whole of crawford's basin, i'm glad to say." "bully!" cried tom, clapping his hands together with a report which made his pony shy. "that's great! tell us about it, mr. crawford." "why, yetmore rode in yesterday afternoon, as i told you, on his way to town--he said. but i rather suspected the truth of his statement. he had come in a desperate hurry, for his horse was in a lather, and if he was in such haste to get to town, why did he waste time talking to me, as he did for twenty minutes? but when, just as he was starting off again, he turned back and asked me if i wanted to sell my share in the drill and claim, i knew that that was what he had come about, and i had a strong suspicion that he had heard of a strike of some sort and was trying to get the better of me. so when he asked what i wanted for my share, i said i would take his thirty acres, and in spite of his protestations that i was asking far too much, i stuck to it. the final result was that i rode on with him to town, where we exchanged deeds and the bargain was completed." "that's great!" exclaimed connor once more, rubbing his hands. "and now i'll tell you our part of the story." when he had finished, my father stood thinking for a minute, and then said: "well, the deal will have to stand. yetmore believed we had a three-foot vein of galena, and it is perfectly evident that he meant to get my share out of me at a trifling price before i was aware of its value. it was a shabby trick. if he had dealt squarely with me, i would have offered to give him back his deed, but, as it is, i shan't. the deal will have to stand." thus it was that my father became sole owner of crawford's basin. chapter iv lost in the clouds the fact that he had lost his little all in the core-boring venture did not trouble tom connor in the least; the money was gone, and as worrying about it would not bring it back, tom decided not to worry. the same thing had happened to him many a time before, for his system of life was to work in the mines until he had accumulated a respectable sum, and then go off prospecting till such time as the imminence of starvation drove him back again to regular work. it was so in this case; and being known all over the district as a skilful miner, his specialty being timber-work, he very soon got a good job on the pelican as boss timberman on a section of that important mine. one effect of tom's getting work on the pelican was that he secured for joe and me an order for lagging--small poles used in the mines to hold up the ore and waste--and our potato-crop being gathered and marketed, my father gave us permission to go off and earn some extra money for ourselves by filling the order which tom's kindly thoughtfulness had secured for us. the place we had chosen as the scene of our operations was on the northern slope of elkhorn mountain, which lay next south of mount lincoln, and one bright morning in the late fall joe and i packed our bedding and provisions into a wagon borrowed from my father and set out. we had chosen this spot, after making a preliminary survey for the purpose, partly because the growth of timber was--as it nearly always is--much thicker on the northern slopes of elkhorn than on the south side of lincoln, and also because, being a rather long haul, it had not yet been encroached upon by the timber-cutters of sulphide. on a little branch creek of the stream which ran through sulphide we selected a favorable spot and went to work. it was rather high up, and the country being steep and rocky, we had to make our camp about a mile below our working-ground, snaking out the poles as we cut them. this, of course, was a rather slow process, but it had its compensation in the fact that from the foot of the mountain nearly all the way to sulphide our course lay across the second mesa, which was fairly smooth going, and as it was down hill for the whole distance we could haul a very big load when we did start. in due time we filled our contract and received our pay, after which, by advice of tom connor, we branched out on another line of the same business. being unable to get a second contract, and being, in fact, afraid to take one if we could get it on account of the lateness of the season--for the snow might come at any moment and prevent our carrying it out--we consulted tom, who suggested that we put in the rest of the fine weather cutting big timbers, hauling them to town, and storing them on a vacant lot, or, what would be better, in somebody's back yard. "for," said he, "though the pelican and most of the other mines have their supplies for the winter on hand or contracted for, it is always likely they may want a few more stulls or other big timbers than they think. i'll keep you in mind, and if i hear of any such i'll try and make a deal for you, either for the whole stick or cut in lengths to order." as this seemed like good sense to us, we at once went off to find a storage place, a quest in which we were successful at the first attempt. among my father's customers was the widow appleby, who conducted a small grocery store on a side street in town. she was accustomed to buy her potatoes from us, and my father, knowing that she had a hard struggle to make both ends meet, had always been very easy with her in the matter of payment, giving her all the time she needed. this act of consideration had its effect, for, when we went to her and suggested that she rent us her back yard for storage purposes, she readily assented, and not only refused to take any rent, but gave us as well the use of an old stable which stood empty on the back of her lot. this was very convenient for us, for though a twenty-foot pole, measuring twelve inches at the butt is not the sort of thing that a thief would pick up and run away with, it was less likely that he would attempt it from an enclosed back yard than if the poles were stored in an open lot. besides this, a stable rent-free for our mules, and a loft above it rent-free for ourselves to sleep in was a great accommodation. returning to the elkhorn, therefore, we went to work in a new place, a place where some time previously a fire had swept through a strip of the woods, killing the trees, but leaving them standing, stark and bare, but still sound as nuts--just the thing we wanted. our chief difficulty this time was in getting the felled timbers out from amidst their fellows--for the dead trees were very thick and the mountain-side very steep--but by taking great care we accomplished this without accident. the loading of these big "sticks" would have been an awkward task, too, had we not fortunately found a cut bank alongside of which we ran our wagon, and having snaked the logs into place upon the bank we kidded them across the gap into the wagon without much difficulty. we had made three loads, and the fine weather still holding, we had gone back for a fourth and last one, when, having got our logs in place on the cut bank all ready to load, joe and i, after due consultation, decided that we would take a day off and climb up to the saddle which connected the two mountains. we had never been up there before, and we were curious to see what the country was like on the other side. knowing that it would be a long and hard climb, we started about sunrise, taking a rifle with us; not that we expected to use it, but because it is not good to be entirely defenseless in those wild, out-of-the-way places. following at first our little creek, we went on up and up, taking it slowly, until presently the pines began to thin out, the weather-beaten trees, gnarled, twisted and stunted, becoming few and far between, and pretty soon we left even these behind and emerged upon the bare rocks above timber-line. here, too, we left behind our little creek. for another thousand feet we scrambled up the rocks, clambering over great boulders, picking our way along the edges of little precipices, until at last we stood upon the summit of the saddle. to right and left were the two great peaks, still three thousand feet above us, but westward the view was clear. as far as we could see--and that, i expect, was near two hundred miles--were ranges and masses of mountains, some of them already capped with snow, a magnificent sight. "that is fine!" cried joe, enthusiastically. "it's well worth the trouble of the climb. i only wish we had a map so that we could tell which range is which." "yes, it's a great sight," said i. "and the view eastward is about as fine, i think. look! that cloud of smoke, due east about ten miles away, comes from the smelters of san remo, and that other smoke a little to the left of it is where the coal-mines are. there's the ranch, too, that green spot in the mesa; you wouldn't think it was nearly a mile square, would you?" "that's sulphide down there, of course," remarked joe, pointing off towards the right. "but what are those other, smaller, clouds of smoke?" "those are three other little mining-camps, all tributary to the smelters at san remo, and all producing refractory ores like the mines of sulphide. my! joe!" i exclaimed, as my thoughts reverted to tom connor and his late core-boring failure. "what a great thing a good vein of lead ore would be! better than a gold mine!" "i expect it would. poor old tom! he bears his disappointment pretty well, doesn't he?" "he certainly does. he says, now, that he's going to stick to straightforward mining and leave prospecting alone; but he's said that every year for the past ten years at least, and if there's anything certain about tom it is that when spring comes and he finds himself once more with money in his pocket, he'll be off again hunting for his lead-mine." "sure to. well, phil, let's sit down somewhere and eat our lunch. we mustn't stay here too long." "all right. here's a good place behind this big rock. it will shelter us from the east wind, which has a decided edge to it up here." for half an hour we sat comfortably in the sun eating our lunch, all around us space and silence, when joe, rising to his feet, gave vent to a soft whistle. "phil," said he, "we must be off. no time to waste. look eastward." i jumped up. a wonderful change had taken place. the view of the plains was completely cut off by masses of soft cloud, which, coming from the east, struck the mountain-side about two thousand feet below us and were swiftly and softly drifting up to where we stood. "yes, we must be off," said i. "it won't do to be caught up here in the clouds: it would be dangerous getting down over the rocks. and besides that, it might turn cold and come on to snow. let us be off at once." it was fortunate we did so, for, though we traveled as fast as we dared, the cloud, coming at first in thin whisps and then in dense masses, enveloped us before we reached timber-line, and the difficulty we experienced in covering the small intervening space showed us how risky it would have been had the cloud caught us while we were still on the summit of the ridge. as it was, we lost our bearings immediately, for the chilly mist filled all the spaces between the trees, so that we could not see more than twenty yards in any direction. as to our proper course, we could tell nothing about it, so that the only thing left for us to do was to keep on going down hill. we expected every moment to see or hear our little creek, but we must have missed it somehow, for, though we ought to have reached it long before, we had been picking our way over loose rocks and fallen trees for two hours before we came upon a stream--whether the right or the wrong one we could not tell. right or wrong, however, we were glad to see it, for by following it we should sooner or later reach the foot of the mountain and get below the cloud. but to follow it was by no means easy: the country was so unexpectedly rough--a fact which convinced us that we had struck the wrong creek. as we progressed, we presently found ourselves upon the edge of a little cañon which, being too steep to descend, obliged us to diverge to the left, and not only so, but compelled us to go up hill to get around it, which did not suit us at all. after a time, however, we began to go down once more, but though we kept edging to the right we could not find our creek again. the fog, too, had become more dense than ever, and whether our faces were turned north, south or east we had no idea. we were going on side by side, when suddenly we were astonished to hear a dog bark, somewhere close by; but though we shouted and whistled there was no reply. "it must be a prospector's dog," said joe, "and the man himself must be underground and can't hear us." "perhaps that's it," i replied. "well, let's take the direction of the sound--if we can. it seemed to me to be that way," pointing with my hand. "i wish the dog would bark again." the dog, however, did not bark again, but instead there happened another surprising thing. we were walking near together, carefully picking our way, when suddenly a big raven, coming from we knew not where, flew between us, so close that we felt the flap of his wings and heard their soft _fluff-fluff_ in the moisture-laden air, and disappeared again into the fog before us with a single croak. it was rather startling, but beyond that we thought nothing of it, and on we went again, until joe stopped short, exclaiming: "phil, i smell smoke!" i stopped, too, and gave a sniff. "so do i," i said; "and there's something queer about it. it isn't plain wood-smoke. what is it?" "sulphur," replied joe. "sulphur! so it is. what can any one be burning sulphur up here for? anyhow, sulphur or no sulphur, some one must have lighted the fire, so let us follow the smoke." we had not gone far when we perceived the light of a fire glowing redly through the fog, and hurried on, expecting to find some man beside it. but not only was there nobody about, which was surprising enough, but the fire itself was something to arouse our curiosity. beneath a large, flat stone, supported at the corners by four other stones, was a hot bed of "coals," while upon the stone itself was spread a thin layer of black sand. it was from these grains of sand, apparently, that the smell of sulphur came; though what they were or why they should be there we could not guess. we were standing there, wondering, when, suddenly, close behind us, the dog barked again. round we whirled. there was no dog there! instead, perched upon the stump of a dead tree, sat a big black raven, who eyed us as though enjoying our bewilderment. bewildered we certainly were, and still more so when the bird, after staring us out of countenance for a few seconds, cocked his head on one side and said in a hoarse voice: "gim'me a chew of tobacco!" and then, throwing back his head, he produced such a perfect imitation of the howl of a coyote, that a real coyote, somewhere up on the mountain, howled in reply. all this--the talking raven, the mysterious fire, the encompassing shroud of fog--made us wonder whether we were awake or asleep, when we were still more startled by a voice behind us saying, genially: "good-evening, boys." round we whirled once more, to find standing beside us a man, a tall, bony, bearded man, about fifty years old, carrying in his hand a long, old-fashioned muzzle-loading rifle. he was dressed all in buckskin, while the moccasins on his feet explained how it was he had been able to slip up on us so silently. naturally, we were somewhat taken aback by the sudden appearance of this wild-looking specimen of humanity, when, thinking that he had alarmed us, perhaps, the man asked, pleasantly: "lost, boys?" "yes," i replied, reassured by his kindly manner. "we have been up to the saddle and got caught in the clouds. we don't know where we are. we are trying to get back to our camp on a branch of sulphide creek." "ah! you are the two boys i've seen cutting timbers down there, are you? well, your troubles are over: i can put you on the road to your camp in an hour or so; i know every foot of these mountains." "but come in," he continued. "i suppose you are hungry, and a little something to eat won't be amiss." when the man said, "come in," we naturally glanced about us to see where his house was, but none being visible we concluded it must be some distance off in the mist. in this, however, we were mistaken. the side of the mountain just here was covered with enormous rocks--a whole cliff must have tumbled down at once--and between two of these our guide led the way. in a few steps the passage widened out, when we saw before us, neatly fitted in between three of these immense blocks of stone--one on either side and one behind--a little log cabin, with chimney, door and window all complete; while just to one side was another, a smaller one, which was doubtless a storehouse. past his front door ran a small stream of water which evidently fell from a cliff near by, for, though we could not see the waterfall we could hear it plainly enough. "well!" i exclaimed. "whoever would have thought there was a house in here?" "no one, i expect," replied the man. "at any rate, with one exception, you are the first strangers to cross the threshold; and yet i have lived here a good many years, too. come in and make yourselves at home." though we wondered greatly who our host could be and were burning to ask him his name, there was something in his manner which warned us to hold our tongues. but whatever his name might be, there was little doubt about his occupation. he was evidently a mighty hunter, for, covering the walls, the floor and his sleeping-place were skins innumerable, including foxes, wolves and bears, some of the last-named being of remarkable size; while one magnificent elk-head and several heads of mountain-sheep adorned the space over his fireplace. our host having lighted a fire, was busying himself preparing a simple meal for us, when there came a gentle cough from the direction of the doorway, and there on the threshold stood the raven as though waiting for permission to enter. the man turned, and seeing the bird standing there with its head on one side, said, laughingly: "ah, sox, is that you? come in, old fellow, and be introduced. these gentlemen are friends of mine. say 'good-morning.'" [illustration: "'ah, sox, is that you?'"] "good-morning," repeated the raven; and having thus displayed his good manners, he half-opened his wings and danced a solemn jig up and down the floor, finally throwing back his head and laughing so heartily that we could not help joining in. "clever fellow, isn't he?" said the man. "his proper name is socrates, though i call him sox, for short. he is supposed to be getting on for a hundred years old, though as far as i can see he is just as young as he was when i first got him, twenty years ago. here,"--handing us each a piece of meat--"give him these and he will accept you as friends for life." whether he accepted us as friends remained to be seen, but he certainly accepted our offerings, bolting each piece at a single gulp; after which he hopped up on to a peg driven into the wall, evidently his own private perch, and announced in a self-satisfied tone: "first in war, first in peace," ending up with a modest cough, as though he would have us believe that he knew the rest well enough but was not going to trouble us with any such threadbare quotation. this solemn display of learning set us laughing again, upon which socrates, seemingly offended, sank his head between his shoulders and pretended to go to sleep; though, that it was only pretense was evident, for, do what he would, he could not refrain from occasionally opening one eye to see what was going on. having presently finished the meal provided for us, we suggested that we ought to be moving on, so, bidding adieu to socrates, and receiving no response from that sulky philosopher, we followed our host into the open. that he had not exaggerated when he said he knew every foot of these mountains, seemed to be borne out by the facts. he went straight away, regardless of the fog, up hill and down, without an instant's hesitation, we trotting at his heels, until, in about an hour we found ourselves once more below the clouds, and could see not far away our two mules quietly feeding. "now," said our guide, "i'll leave you. if ever you come my way again i shall be glad to see you; though i expect it would puzzle you to find my dwelling unless you should come upon it by accident. good-bye." "good-bye," we repeated, "and many thanks for your kindness. if we can do anything in return at any time we shall be glad of the chance. we live in crawford's basin." "oh, do you?" said our friend. "you are mr. crawford's boys, then, are you? well, many thanks. i'll remember. and now, good-bye to you." with that, this strange man turned round and walked up into the clouds again. in two minutes he had vanished. "well, that was a queer adventure," remarked joe. "i wonder who he is, and why he chooses to live all by himself like that." "yes. it's a miserable sort of existence for such a man; for he seems like a sociable, good-hearted fellow. it isn't every one, for instance, who would walk three or four miles over these rough mountains just to help a couple of boys, whom he never saw before and may never see again. i wish we could make him some return." "well, perhaps we may, some day," joe replied. whether we did or not will be seen later. chapter v what we found in the pool though we got back to camp pretty late, we set to work to load our poles at once, fearing that there was going to be a fall of snow which might prevent our getting them to town. this turned out to be a wise precaution, for when we started in the morning the snow was already coming down, and though it did not extend as far as sulphide, the mountains were covered a foot deep before night. this fall of snow proved to be much to our advantage, for one of the timber contractors, fearing he might not be able to fill his order, bought our "sticks" from us, to be delivered, cut into certain lengths, at the senator mine. this occupied us several days, when, having delivered our last load, we thanked mrs. appleby for the use of her back yard--the only payment she would accept--and then set off home, where we proudly displayed to my father and mother the money we had earned and related how we had earned it; including, of course, a description of our meeting with the wild man of the woods. "and didn't he tell you who he was?" asked my father, when we had finished. "no," i replied; "we were afraid to ask him, and he didn't volunteer any information." "and you didn't guess who he was?" "no. why should we? who is he?" "why, peter the hermit, of course. i should have thought the presence of the raven would have enlightened you: he is always described as going about in company with a raven." "so he is. i'd forgotten that. but, on the other hand he is always described also as being half crazy, and certainly there was no sign of such a thing about him that we could see. was there, joe?" "no. nobody could have acted more sensibly. who is he, mr. crawford? and why does he live all by himself like that?" "i know nothing about him beyond common report. i suppose his name is peter--though it may not be--and because he chooses to lead a secluded life, some genius has dubbed him 'peter the hermit'; though who he really is, or why he lives all alone, or where he comes from, i can't say. some people say he is crazy, and some people say he is an escaped criminal--but then people will say anything, particularly when they know nothing about it. judging from the reports of the two or three men who have met him, however, he appears to be quite inoffensive, and evidently he is a friendly-disposed fellow from your description of him. if you should come across him again you might invite him to come down and see us. i don't suppose he will, but you might ask him, anyhow." "all right," said i. "we will if we get the chance." and so the matter ended. it was just as well that we returned to the ranch when we did, for we found plenty of work ready to our hands, the first thing being the hauling of fire-wood for the year. to procure this, it was not necessary for us to go to the mountains: our supply was much nearer to hand. the whole region round about us had been at some remote period the scene of vigorous volcanic action. both the first and second mesas were formed by a series of lava-flows which had come down from mount lincoln, and ending abruptly about eight miles from the mountains, had built up the cliff which bounded the first mesa on its eastern side. then, later, but still in a remote age, a great strip of this lava-bed, a mile wide and ten or twelve miles long, north and south, had broken away and subsided from the general level, forming what the geologists call, i believe, a "fault," thus causing the "step-up" to the second mesa. the second mesa, because the lava had been hotter perhaps, was distinguished from the lower level by the presence of a number of little hills--"bubbles," they were called, locally, and solidified bubbles of hot lava perhaps they were. they were all sorts of sizes, from fifty to four hundred feet high and from a hundred yards to half a mile in diameter. viewed from a distance, they looked smooth and even, like inverted bowls, though when you came near them you found that their sides were rough and broken. i had been to the top of a good many of them, and all of those i had explored i had found to be depressed in the centre like little craters. from some of them tiny streams of water ran down, helping to swell the volume of our creek. most of these so-called "bubbles," especially the larger ones, were well covered with pine-trees, and as there were three or four of them within easy reach of the ranch, it was here that we used to get our fire-wood. there was a good week's work in this, and after it was finished there was more or less repairing of fences to be done, as there always is in the fall, and the usual mending of sheds, stables and corrals. the weather by this time had turned cold, and "the bottomless forty rods" having been frozen solid enough to bear a load, joe and i were next put to work hauling oats down to the livery stable men in san remo, as well as up to sulphide. before this task was accomplished the winter had set in in earnest. we had had one or two falls of snow, though in our sheltered basin the heat of the sun was still sufficient to clear off most of it again, and the frost had been sharp enough to freeze up our creek at its sources, so that our little waterfall was now converted into a motionless icicle. fortunately, we were not dependent upon the creek for the household supply of water: we had one pump which never failed in the back kitchen and another one down by the stables. the creek having ceased to run, the surface of the pool was no longer agitated by the water pouring into it, and very soon it was solidly frozen over with a sheet of ice twelve inches thick, when, according to our yearly custom, we proceeded to cut this ice and stow it away in the ice-house; having previously been up to the sawmill near sulphide and brought away, for packing purposes, several wagon-loads of sawdust, which the sawmill men readily gave us for nothing, being glad to have it hauled out of their way. we had taken the opportunity to do this when we took our loads of oats up to sulphide, thus utilizing the empty wagons on the return trip. the pool, as i have said, measured about a hundred feet each way, though on account of its shallowness around the edges we could only cut ice over a surface about fifty feet square. being frozen a foot thick, however, this gave us an ample supply for all our needs. the labor of cutting, hauling and housing the ice fell to joe and me, my father having generally plenty of other work to do. he had taken in a number of young cattle for a neighboring cattleman for the winter, and having sold him the bulk of our hay crop and at the same time undertaken to feed the stock, this daily duty alone took up a large part of his time. besides this, "the forty rods" having become passable, the freighters and others now came our way instead of taking the longer hill-road, and their frequent demands for a sack, or a load, of oats, and now and then for hay or potatoes, added to the work of stock-feeding, kept my father pretty well occupied. joe and i, therefore, went to work by ourselves, beginning operations on that part of the pool nearest the point where the water used to pour in. we had taken out ten or a dozen loads of beautiful, clear ice, when, one day, yetmore, who was riding down to san remo, seeing us at work, stopped to watch us. he was a queer fellow. though he must have been perfectly well aware that we distrusted him; and though, after the late affair of the lead-boulder--a miscarriage of his schemes which was doubtless extremely galling to him--one would think he would have rather avoided us than not, he appeared to feel no embarrassment whatever, but with a greeting of well-simulated cordiality he dismounted and walked over to the pool to see what we were doing. perhaps--and this, i think, is probably the right explanation--if he did entertain the idea of some day "getting even" with us, he had decided to postpone any such attempt until he saw an opportunity of doing so at a profit. "fine lot of ice," he remarked, after standing for a moment watching joe as he plied the saw. "does this creek always freeze up like this?" "yes," i replied. "it heads in mount lincoln, and is made up of a number of small streams which always freeze up about the first of november. that reduces the flow to about one-third its usual size; and when the little streams which come down from three or four of the 'bubbles' freeze up too, the creek stops entirely; which makes it mighty convenient for us to cut ice, as you see." "i see. is the pool the same depth all over?" "no," i answered. "just here, under the fall, it is deepest, but round the edges it is so shallow that we can't take a stroke with the saw, the sand comes so close up to the ice. in fact, in some places, the ice rests right upon the sand." "how deep is it here?" "four or five feet, i think. try it, joe." joe, who had just laid down the saw and had taken up the long ice-hook we used for drawing the blocks of ice within reach, lowered the hook, point downward, into the water. then, pulling it out again, he stood it up beside him, finding that the wet mark on the staff came up to his chin. "five feet and three or four inches," said he. "is the bottom solid or sandy?" asked yetmore. "i didn't notice. i'll try it." with that joe lowered the pole once more. "seems solid," he remarked, giving two or three hard prods. but he had scarcely said so, when, to our surprise, several bits of rough ice about as big as my hand bobbed up from the bottom. "hallo!" exclaimed yetmore. "ground ice!" "what's ground ice?" i asked. "why, ice formed at the bottom of the pool. it is not uncommon, i believe, though i don't remember to have seen any before. pretty dirty stuff, isn't it? must be a sandy bottom." so saying, he stooped down, and picking up the only bit of ice which happened to be within reach, he examined its under side. as he did so, i saw him give a little start, as though there were something about it to cause him surprise, but just as i reached out my hand to ask him to let me see it, he threw it back into the water out of reach--an action which struck me as being hardly polite. "i must be off," said he, in apparent haste, "so, good-bye. hope you will get your crop in before it snows. looks threatening to me; you'll have to hurry, i think." this prediction seemed to me rather absurd, with the thermometer at zero and the sky as clear as crystal; but yetmore was an indoor man and could not be expected to judge as can one whose daily work depends so much upon what the weather is doing or is going to do. it did not occur to me then--though it did later--that he only wanted us to get to work again at once, and so divert our minds from the subject of the ground ice. as i made no comment on his remark, yetmore walked away, remounted his horse and rode off; while joe and i went briskly to work again. we had been at it some time, when joe stopped sawing, and straightening up, said: "it's queer about those bits of ground ice, phil. do you notice how they all float clean side up? wait a bit and i'll show you." taking the ice-hook, he turned over one of the bits with its point, showing its soiled side, but the moment he released it, the bit of ice "turned turtle" again. "do you see?" said he. "the sand acts like ballast. it must be heavy stuff." "yes," said i. "hook a bit of it out and let's look at it." this was soon done, when, on examining it, we found the under side to be crusted with very black sand, which, whatever might be its nature, was evidently heavy enough to upset the balance of a small fragment of ice. "what is it made of, i wonder?" said joe. "i don't know," i replied, "but perhaps it is that black sand which the prospectors are always complaining of as getting in their way when they are panning for gold." "that's what it is, phil, i expect," cried joe. "and what's more, that's what yetmore thought, too, or else why should he throw that bit of ice back into the water so quickly when you held out your hand for it? he didn't want you to see it." "it does look like it," i assented. "poke up a few more, joe, and we will take them home and show them to my father: perhaps he'll know what the stuff is." joe took the ice-hook and prodded about on the bottom, every prod bringing up one or two bits of ice, each one as it bobbed to the surface showing its sandy side for a moment and then turning over, clean side up. drawing these to the edge of the ice, we picked them out, laying them on a gunny-sack we had with us, and when, towards sunset, we had carried home and housed our last load, and had stabled and fed the mules, we took our scraps over to the blacksmith-shop, where the tinkle of a hammer proclaimed that my father was at work doing some mending of something. he was much interested in hearing of the ground ice and of the way it brought up the black sand with it, and still more so in our description of yetmore's action. "let me look at it," said he; and taking one of our specimens, he stepped to the door to examine it, the light in the shop being too dim. he came back smiling. "queer fellow, yetmore!" said he. "one would think that the lesson of the lead-boulder might have taught him that a man may sometimes be too crafty. i think this is likely to prove another case of the same kind. i believe he has made a genuine discovery here--though what it may lead to there is no telling--and if he had had the sense to let you look at that piece of dirty ice, instead of throwing it back into the water, thus arousing your curiosity, he would probably have kept his discovery to himself. as it is, he is likely to have tom connor interfering with him again--that is to say, if this sand is what i think it is. i don't think it is the 'black sand' of the prospectors--it is too shiny, and it has a bluish tinge besides--i think it is something of far more value. we'll soon find out. give me that piece of an iron pot, phil; it will do to melt the ice in." having broken up some of our ice into small pieces, we placed it in a large fragment of a broken iron pot, and this being set upon the forge, joe took the bellows-handle and soon had the fire roaring under it. it did not take long to melt the ice, when, pouring off the water, we added some more, repeating the process until there was no ice left. the last of the water being then poured away, there remained nothing but about a spoonful of very fine, black, shiny sand. the receptacle was once more placed upon the fire, and while my father kept the contents stirred up with a stick, joe seized the bellows-handle again and pumped away. presently he began to cough. "what's the matter, joe?" asked my father, laughing. "sulphur!" gasped joe. "sulphur!" cried i. "i don't smell any sulphur." "come over here, then, and blow the bellows," replied joe. i took his place, but no sooner had i done so than i, too, began to cough. the smell of sulphur evidently came from our spoonful of sand, and as i was standing between the door and the window the draft blew the fumes straight into my face. on discovering this, i pulled the bellows-handle over to one side, when i was no more troubled. the iron pot, being set right down on the "duck's nest" and heaped all around with glowing coals, had become red-hot, when my father, peering into it, held up his hand. "that'll do, phil. that's enough," he cried. "give me the tongs, joe." my father removed the melting-pot, and making a hole with his heel in the sandy floor of the shop, he poured the contents into it. "lead!" we both cried, with one voice. "yes, lead," my father replied. "galena ore, ground fine by the action of water." "do you mean," i asked, "that there is a lead-mine in the bottom of the pool?" "no, no. but there is a vein of galena, size and value unknown, somewhere up on lincoln mountain. the fine black sand sticking to the ground ice was brought down by our stream, being reduced to powder on the way, and deposited in the pool, where its weight has kept it from being washed out again." "i see. and do you suppose yetmore recognized the sand as galena ore? would he be likely to know it in the form of sand?" "i expect so. he's a sharp fellow enough. he must have seen pulverized samples of galena many a time in the assayers' offices. i've seen them myself: that was what gave me my clue." "and what do you suppose he'll do?" "he is pretty certain, i think, to try to get hold of some of the stuff, so that he may test it and make sure; though how he will go about it there's no telling. it will be interesting to see how he manages it." "and what shall you do, father? go prospecting?" my father laughed, knowing that this was a joke on my part; for i was well aware that he would not think of such a thing. "not for us, phil," he answered. "we have our mine right here. raising oats and potatoes may be a slow way of getting rich, but it is a good bit surer than prospecting. no, we'll tell tom connor about it and let him go prospecting if he likes. you shall go up to sulphide the first saturday after the ice-cutting is finished and give him our information. there's no hurry about it: he can't go prospecting while the mountains are all under snow. come along in to supper now. you've fed the mules, i suppose." it was a snapping cold night that night, and about half-past eight i went into the kitchen to look at the thermometer which hung outside the door. as i came back, i happened to glance out of the west window, when, to my surprise, i thought i saw a glimmer of light up by the pool. stepping quickly into the house again, i went to the front door and looked out. yes, there was a light up there! "father," i called out, "there's somebody up at the pool with a light." my father sprang out of his chair. "is there?" he cried. "then it's yetmore, up to some of his tricks. get into your coats, boys, and let's go and see what he's about." as we went out i took down the unlighted stable-lantern and carried it with me in case we might need it, and shutting the door softly behind me, ran after the others. we had not covered half the distance to the pool, however, when the light up there suddenly went out, and a minute later we heard the sound of galloping hoofs, muffled by the thin carpet of snow, going off in the direction of sulphide. our visitor, whoever he was, had departed. "well, come on, anyhow," said my father. "let us see what he was doing." as the thermometer was then standing at three degrees below zero, we knew that the sheet of clear water we had left in the afternoon should have been solidly frozen over again by this time. what was our surprise, therefore, to find that such was not the case: there was only a thin film of ice; it was but just beginning to form. "that is easily explained," remarked my father. "the ice did form, but some one has chopped it out and thrown it to one side there. see?" "yes," replied joe, "and then he took the ice-hook, which i know i left standing upright against the rocks, and poked up the ground ice. see, there are several bits floating about, and i remember quite well that we cleared out every one of them this afternoon. didn't we, phil?" "yes," said i, "i'm sure we did, because i remember that those two or three bits that had no sand in them we threw into that corner instead of pitching them into the water again. i suppose it's yetmore, father." "oh, not a doubt of it. did he leave any tracks?" by the light of the lantern we searched about, and though there were no tracks to be seen on the smooth ice, there were plenty in the snow below the pool. they were the foot-prints of a smallish man, for his tracks, in spite of his wearing over-shoes, were not so big as the prints made by joe's boots--though, as joe himself remarked, that was not much to go by, he being a six-footer with feet to match, "and a trifle over," as his friends sometimes considerately assured him. following these foot-prints, we were led to the south gate, where, it was easy to see, a horse had been standing for some time tied to the gate-post. "well, he's got off with his samples all right," remarked my father. "he's a smart fellow, and enterprising, too. he would deserve to win, if only he were not so fond of taking the crooked way of doing things. come along. let's get back to the house. there's nothing more to be done about it at present." chapter vi long john butterfield "boys," said my father next morning, "i've been thinking over this discovery of ours. it won't do to wait till you've finished the ice-cutting to notify tom connor. he has been a good friend to us, and i feel that we owe him some return for enabling me to get this piece of land from yetmore, even though it was, in a manner, accidental; and as tom is sure to go off prospecting in the spring, whether or no, we may as well give him the chance--if he wants it--to go hunting for this supposed vein of galena." "he's pretty sure to want to," said i. "yes, i think he is. and as yetmore will certainly find out the nature of the black sand, and will be sending out a prospector or two himself as soon as the snow clears off, we must at least give tom an equal chance. so, instead of waiting for you to finish cutting the ice, i'll write him a letter at once, telling him all about it, and send it up by this morning's coach." one of the advantages to us of the frosty weather was that the mail coach between san remo and sulphide came our way instead of taking the hill-road, so that during the winter months we received our mail daily, whereas, through the greater part of the year, while the "forty rods" were "bottomless," we had to go ourselves to san remo to get it. the coach, going up, passed our place about ten in the morning, and by it my father sent the promised letter. we quite expected that tom would come flying down at once, but instead we received from him next morning a reply, stating that he could not leave his work, and asking my father to allow us boys to do a little prospecting for him--which, i may say, we boys were ready enough to do if my father did not object. he did not object; being, indeed, very willing that we should put in a day's work for the benefit of our friend. for, as he said, to undertake one day's prospecting for a friend was a very different matter from taking to prospecting as a business. it is a fascinating pursuit; men who contract the prospecting disease seldom get the fever entirely out of their systems again, and it was for this reason my father was so set against it, considering that no greater misfortune could befall two farmer-boys like ourselves than to be drawn into such a way of life. now that we were seventeen years old, however, and might be supposed to have some discretion, he had little fear for joe and me, knowing, as he did, that we shared his sentiments. we had seen enough of the life of the prospector to understand that a more precarious way of making a living could hardly be invented. how many men get rich at it? i have heard it estimated at one man in five thousand; and whether this estimate--or, rather, this guess--is right or wrong, it shows the trend of opinion. suppose a prospector does strike a vein of ore: what is the common result? by the time he has sunk a shaft ten feet deep he must have a windlass and a man to work it, and being in most cases too poor to hire a miner, his only way of getting help is to take in a partner. the two go on sinking, until presently the hole is too deep to use a windlass any more--a horse-whim is needed and then a hoisting engine. but it is seldom that the ore dug out of a shaft will pay the expense of sinking it--for powder and drills, ropes, buckets and timbers, are expensive things--much less enable the owner to lay by anything, and the probability is that to buy a hoisting engine he must sell another portion of his claim. and so it goes, until, by the time his claim has been turned into a mine--for, as the common and very true saying is, "mines are made, not found"--his share of it will probably have been reduced to one-quarter or less; while it is quite within the limits of probability that, becoming wearied by long waiting for the slow development of his prospect, he will have sold out for what he can get and gone back to his old life. but though i do not advocate the business of prospecting as a way of making a living--i had rather pitch hay or dig potatoes myself--i am far from wishing to disparage the prospector himself or to belittle the results of his work. he is the pioneer of civilization; and personally he is generally a fine fellow. at the same time, as in every other profession, the ranks of the prospectors include their share of the riff-raff. it was so in our district, and we were destined shortly to come in contact with one of them. tom connor in his letter instructed us as to what he wished us to do: it was very simple. he asked us to walk up the little cañon along which our stream flowed, when it did flow, and to examine the bed of each of its feeders as we came to them, to determine, if possible, which of the branch streams it was that brought down the powdered lead-ore. he also suggested that we get out some more of the black sand from the bottom of the pool for him to see, and at the same time ascertain, if we could, how much of a deposit there was there. the last request we performed first. taking down to the pool a long, pointed iron rod, we lowered it into the water, marking the depth by tying a bit of string round the rod at high-water-mark, and then bored a hole down through the frozen sand until we struck bed-rock. by this means we discovered that the deposit was five inches thick at the upper end of the pool. a few feet further from the waterfall, however, the deposit was thicker, but we noticed at the same time that the ground ice which came up carried with it more or less yellow sand. the further we retreated from the waterfall, too, the larger became the proportion of yellow sand, until towards the edge of the pool it had taken the place of the black sand altogether. having done this, we poked up a lot of the ground ice, which we collected and put into a tin bucket, and taking this home we melted the ice, poured off the water, and made a little parcel of the sand that remained. a few days later we had finished our ice-cutting and had stowed away the crop in the ice-house, when we were at length free to go off and make the little prospecting expedition that tom had asked us to undertake. first walking up the bed of the cañon, where the water was now represented by sheets of crackling white ice, we arrived presently at the first branch creek which came in on the right. this we ascended in turn, going some distance up it before we found a likely patch of sand, into which we chopped a hole with the old hatchet we had brought for the purpose, disclosing a little of the black material at the bottom; though the amount was so scanty that we could not be sure it was really the black sand we were seeking. going on up this branch creek, much impeded by the snow which became deeper and deeper the higher we ascended, we were nearing one of the bends when joe, who was in advance, suddenly stopped, exclaiming: "look there, phil! tracks coming down the bank. somebody is ahead of us." "so there is," said i. "what can he be doing, i wonder?" following these tracks a short distance, we very soon discovered the reason for their being there. the man was on the same quest as ourselves! in a bend of the stream where the snow lay two feet thick, he had dug a hole down to the sand, and then through the sand itself to bed-rock. at the bottom of the hole was a little black sand, showing the marks of a hatchet or knife-blade where it had been gouged out, but all around the hole, between the bed-rock and the yellow sand above, was a black line an inch thick, composed of the shiny, powdered galena ore. there could be no doubt that the man ahead of us was hunting the same game as we were. "do you suppose it's yetmore, joe?" said i. "no," joe answered, emphatically, "i'm sure it isn't. look at his tracks: they are bigger than mine." "it can't be tom, himself, can it?" "no, i'm pretty sure it isn't tom either. tom is a big, powerful fellow, all right, but he's not more than five feet ten, while this man, i think, is extra-tall--see the length of his stride where he came down the bank. whoever he is, though, phil, he's an experienced prospector. he hasn't wasted his time, as we have, trying unlikely places, but has chosen this spot and gone slap down through snow and everything, just as if he knew that the black sand would be found at the bottom." "that's true," said i. "i wonder who it is. we must find out if we can, joe, so that we may be able to tell tom who his competitor is. let's follow his tracks." getting out of the creek-bed again, we walked along the bank for nearly a mile, until joe, stopping short, held up his finger. "hark!" he whispered. "somebody chopping." there was a sound as of metal being struck against stone somewhere ahead of us, so on we went again, making as little noise as possible, until presently joe stopped again, and pointing forward, said softly, "there he is, look!" the man was down in the creek-bed again, and all we could see of him above the bank was his hat. we therefore went forward once more, timing our steps by the blows of the hatchet, until we could see the man's head and shoulders; but we did not gain much by that, as he had his back to us and was too intent upon his work to turn round. at length, however, he ceased chopping, and gathering the chips of frozen sand in his hands, he cast them to one side. in doing so, he showed his face for a moment, and in that brief glimpse i recognized who it was. joe looked at me with raised eyebrows, as much as to say, "do you know him?" to which i replied with a nod, and laying my hand on my companion's arm, i drew him back until only the top of the man's hat was visible again, when i whispered, "it's long john butterfield." "what! the man they call 'the yellow pup'? how do you suppose _he_ came to hear of the black sand?" "from yetmore. he is a prospector whom yetmore grub-stakes every summer." "'grub-stakes,'" repeated joe, inquiringly. "yes. some prospectors go out on their own account, you know, but some of them are 'grub-staked.' this man is employed by yetmore. he sends him out prospecting every spring, providing him with tools and 'grub' and paying him some small wages. whether it is part of the bargain that long john is to get any share of what he may find, i don't know, but probably it is--that is the general rule. there is very little doubt that yetmore has sent him out now, just as tom has sent us out, to see which stream the lead-ore in the pool came from." "not a doubt of it. well, shall we go ahead and speak to him?" before i could reply, the man himself rose up, looked about him, and at once espied us. at seeing us standing there silently watching him, he gave a not-unnatural start of alarm, but perceiving that he had only two boys to deal with, even if we were pretty big, he climbed up the bank and advanced towards us with a threatening air. standing six feet five inches in his over-shoes, he was a rather formidable-looking object as he came striding down upon us, a shovel in one hand and a hatchet in the other; but as we knew him by reputation for a blusterer and a coward, we awaited his coming without any alarm for our safety. long john butterfield was a well-known character in sulphide. though a prospector all summer, he was a bar-room loafer all winter, spending his time hanging around the saloons, and doing only work enough in the way of odd jobs to keep himself from starving until spring came round again, when yetmore would provide for him once more. it had formerly been his ambition to pass for a "bad man," though he found it difficult to maintain that reputation among the unbelieving citizens of sulphide, who knew that he valued his own skin far too highly to risk it seriously. he had been wont to call himself "the wolf," desiring to be known by that title as sounding sufficiently fierce and "bad," and being of a most unprepossessing appearance, with his matted hair, retreating forehead, long, sharp nose and projecting ears, he did represent a wolf pretty well--though, still better, a coyote. as the people of sulphide, however, declined to take him at his own valuation, greeting his frequent outbreaks of simulated ferocity with derisive jeers--even the small boys used to scoff at him--he was reduced to practising his arts upon strangers, which he always hastened to do when he thought it was not likely to be dangerous. unluckily for him, though, he once tried one of his tricks upon an inoffensive newcomer, with a result so unexpected and unwelcome that his only desire thereafter was that people should forget that he had ever called himself "the wolf"--a desire in which his many acquaintances, whether working-men or loafers, readily accommodated him. but as they playfully substituted the less desirable title of "the yellow pup," long john gained little by the move. it happened in this way: there came out from new york at one time a young fellow named bertie van ness, a nephew of marsden, the cattle man, some of whose stock we were feeding that winter. he arrived at sulphide by coach one morning, and before going on to marsden's he stepped into yetmore's store to buy himself a pair of riding gauntlets. long john was in there, and seeing the well-dressed, dapper little man, with his white collar and eastern complexion--not burned red by the colorado sun, as all of ours are--he winked to the assembled company as much as to say, "see me take a rise out of the tenderfoot," sidled up to bertie, who was a foot shorter than himself, leaned over him, and putting on his worst expression, said, in a harsh, growling voice, "i'm 'the wolf.'" it was a trick that had often been successful before: peace-loving strangers, not knowing whom they had to deal with, would usually back away and sometimes even take to their heels, which was all that long john desired. in the present instance, however, the "bad man" miscalculated. the little stranger, seeing the ugly face within a foot of his own, withdrew a step, and without waiting for the formality of an introduction, struck "the wolf" a very sharp blow upon the end of his nose, at the same time remarking, "howl, then, you beast." long john did howl. clapping his hands over his face, he retreated, roaring, from the store, amid the enthusiastic plaudits of those present. thus it was that the name of "the wolf" fell into disuse and the title, "yellow pup," was substituted; and if at any time thereafter long john became obstreperous or in any way made himself objectionable, it was only necessary for some one in company to say "bow-wow," when the offender would forthwith efface himself, with promptness and dispatch. this was the man who came striding down upon joe and me, looking as though he were going to eat us up at a mouthful and think nothing of it. doubtless he supposed that, being country boys, we had not heard the story of bertie van ness, for, advancing close to us he said fiercely: "what you doing here? be off home! do you know who _i_ am? i'm 'the wolf'!" "so i've heard," said i, calmly; a remark which took all the wind out of the gentleman's sails at once. he collapsed with ridiculous suddenness, and with a sheepish grin, said, "i was only just a-trying you, boys, to see if you was easy scart." "well, you see we're not," remarked joe. "what are _you_ doing up here? pretty early for prospecting, isn't it?" "not any earlier for me than it is for you," replied long john, with a glance at the hatchet in joe's hand. he was sharp enough. joe laughed. "that's true," said he. "i suppose we're both hunting the same thing. did you find any of it in that hole up there?" long john hesitated. he would have preferred to lie about it, probably, but knowing that we could go and see for ourselves in a couple of minutes, he made a virtue of necessity and replied: "yes, there's some of it there; but it don't amount to much. i guess the vein ain't worth looking for. come and see." we walked forward and looked into the hole long john had chopped, when we saw that his prospector's instinct had hit upon the right place again. here also was a black streak an inch thick below the yellow sand. it was evident that the vein of galena was somewhere up-stream, though we ourselves were unable to judge from the amount of the deposit whether it was likely to be big or little. long john might be telling the truth when he "guessed" that it was not worth looking for, though, from what we knew of him, we, in turn, "guessed" that what he said was most likely to be the opposite of what he thought. we could not tell, either, whether our new acquaintance was speaking the truth when he declared that he was satisfied with his day's work and had already decided to go home again; i think it rather likely that, being unable to devise any scheme for shaking us off, and not caring to act as prospector for us as well as for yetmore, he preferred to go back at once and report progress. he was right, at any rate, in saying that the drifts ahead were too deep to admit of further prospecting; for the mountains began to close in just here, and the snow was becoming pretty heavy. nevertheless, joe and i thought we would try a little further, if only for the reason that long john would not, and we were about to part company, when we were startled to hear a voice above our heads say, "good-morning," and, looking quickly up, we saw, seated on a dead branch, a raven, to all appearance asleep, with his feathers fluffed out and his head sunk between his shoulders. that it was our friend, socrates, we could not doubt, and we looked all around for the hermit, but as there was no one to be seen, joe, addressing the raven, said: "hallo, sox! where's your master?" "chew o' tobacco," replied the raven. at this long john burst out laughing. "well, you're a cute one," said he; and thrusting his hand into his pocket he brought out a piece of tobacco which he invited socrates to come and get. sox flew down to a convenient rock and reached for the morsel, but the moment he perceived that it was not anything he could eat, he drew back in disdain, and eying long john with severity, remarked, "bow-wow." now, as i have intimated, nothing was so exasperating to long john as to have any one say "bow-wow" to him, and not considering that the offender was only a bird, he raised his hatchet and would have ended sox's career then and there had not joe stayed his arm. at being thus thwarted, long john turned upon my companion, and for a moment i felt a little uneasy lest his temper should for once get the better of his discretion; but i need not have alarmed myself, for long john's outbreaks of rage were always carefully calculated when directed against any one or anything capable of retaliation in kind, and very probably he had already concluded that two well-grown boys like ourselves, used to all kinds of hard work, might prove an awkward handful for one whose muscles had been rendered flabby by lack of exercise. at any rate, he quickly calmed down again, pretending to laugh at the incident; but though he made some remark about "a real smart bird," i guessed from the gleam in his little ferrety eyes that if he could lay hands on socrates, that aged scholar's chances of ever celebrating his one hundredth anniversary would be slim indeed. "who's the thing belong to, anyhow?" asked john. "there's no one living around here that i know of." "he belongs to a man who lives somewhere up on this mountain," i replied. "you've probably heard of him: peter the hermit." "him!" exclaimed long john, looking quickly all around, as though he feared the owner might make his appearance. "well, i'm off. i've got to get back to sulphide to-night, so i'll dig out at once." so saying, he picked up his long-handled shovel, and using it upside-down as a walking-staff, away he went, striding over the snow at a great pace; while socrates, seeing him depart, very appropriately called after him, "good-bye, john." chapter vii the hermit's warning as it was now after midday, we concluded to eat our lunch before going any further, so, sitting down on the rocks, we produced the bread and cold bacon we had brought with us and prepared to refresh ourselves. observing this, socrates, who had flown up into a tree when long john threatened him with the hatchet, now flipped down again and took up his station beside us, having plainly no apprehension that we would do him any harm, and doubtless thinking that if there was any food going he might come in for a share. i was just about to offer him a scrap of bacon, when the bird suddenly gave a croak and flew off up the mountain. naturally, we both looked up to ascertain the reason for this sudden departure, when we were startled to see a tall, bearded man with a long staff in his hands, skimming down the snow-covered slope of the mountain towards us. one glance showed us that it was our friend, the hermit, though how he could skim over the snow like that without moving his feet was a puzzle to us, until, on approaching to within twenty yards of where we sat, he stuck his staff into the snow and checked his speed, when we perceived that he was traveling on skis. "how are you, boys?" he cried, shaking hands with us very heartily. "i'm glad to see you again. much obliged to you, joe, for interfering on behalf of old sox. i would not have the bird hurt for a good deal. i saw the whole transaction from where i was standing up there in that grove of aspens. why did your companion go off so suddenly?" "i don't know," i replied. "i only just mentioned to him that sox belonged to you, when he picked up his shovel and skipped." peter laughed. "i understand," said he. "the gentleman and i have met before, and have no wish to meet again. our first and only interview was not conducive to a desire for further acquaintance. he is not a friend of yours, i hope." "not at all," i replied. "we never met him before." "well, i'm glad of that, because he is not one to be intimate with: he is a thief." "why do you say that?" asked joe, rather startled. "because i happen to know it's so. i'll tell you how. i had set a bear-trap once up on the mountain back of my house, and going up next day to see if i had caught anything, i found this fellow busy skinning my bear. he had come upon it by accident, i suppose, and the bear being caught by both front feet, and being therefore perfectly helpless, he had bravely shot it, and was preparing to walk off with the skin when i appeared." "and what did you say to him?" i asked. "nothing," replied peter. "i just sat down on a rock near by, with my rifle across my knees, and watched him; and he grew so embarrassed and nervous and fidgety that he couldn't stand it any longer, and at last he sneaked off without completing his job and without either of us having said a word." "that certainly was a queer interview," remarked joe, laughing, "and a most effective way, i should think, of dealing with a blustering rogue like long john." "long john?" repeated the hermit, inquiringly. "yes, long john butterfield; known also as 'the yellow pup.'" "oh, that's who it is, is it? i've heard of him from my friend, tom connor." "tom connor!" we both exclaimed. "do you know tom connor, then?" "yes, we have met two or three times in the mountains, and he once spent the night with me in my cabin--he is the 'one exception' i told you about, you remember. he seems like a good, honest fellow, and he has certainly been most obliging to me." as we looked inquiringly at him, wondering how tom could have found an opportunity to be of service to one living such a secluded life as the hermit did, our friend went on: "i happened to mention to him that i had great need of an iron pot, and three days afterwards, on returning home one evening, what should i find standing outside my door but a big iron pot, and in it a chip, upon which was written in pencil, 'compliments of t. connor.'" "just like tom," said i, laughing. "he has more friends than any other man in the district, and he deserves it, for when he makes a friend he can't rest easy until he has found some way of doing him a service." "and he's as honest as they make 'em," joe continued. "if he's a friend, he's a friend, and if he's an enemy, he's an enemy--he doesn't leave you in doubt." "just what i should think," said the hermit. "very different from long john, if i'm not mistaken. that gentleman, i suspect, is of the kind that would shake hands with you in the morning and then come in the night and burn your house down. what were you and he doing, by the way? i've been watching you for an hour. first one and then the other would kneel down in the snow and chop a hole in the bed of the creek, then get up, walk a mile, and do it again. if i may be allowed to say so," he went on, laughing, "it appeared to an outsider like a crazy sort of amusement." "i should think it might," said i, laughing too; and i then proceeded to tell our friend the object of these seemingly senseless actions. "and do you expect to go prospecting for this vein of galena in the spring?" he inquired, when i had concluded. "not we!" i exclaimed. "my father wouldn't let us if we wanted to. we are doing this work for tom connor, whom my father is anxious to serve, he having done us, among others, a very good turn." "i see," said the hermit. "and this man, yetmore, or, rather, his henchman, long john, will be coming as soon as the snow is off to hunt for the vein in competition with our friend, connor." "that is what we expect." "well, then, i can help you a little. we will, at least, secure for connor a start over the enemy." "how?" i asked. "you remember, of course," said the hermit, "that sulphurous stuff that was cooking on the flat stone outside my door the day you came down to my house through the clouds? that was galena ore." "why, of course!" i exclaimed, slapping my leg. "what pudding-heads we must have been, joe, not to have thought of it before. i had forgotten all about it. have you found the vein, then?" "no, i have not; nor have i ever taken the trouble to look for it, having found a place where i can get a sufficient supply for my purposes to last for years." "and what do you use it for?" i asked. "to make bullets from. i get the powdered ore, roast out the sulphur on that flat stone, and then melt down the residue." "and where do you get it?" "that is what i am going to tell you. you know that deep, rocky gorge where big reuben had his den? well, near the head of that gorge is a basin in the rock in which is a large quantity of this powdered galena, all in very fine grains, showing that they have traveled a considerable distance. that stream is one of the four little rills which make up this creek, and if you tell connor of this deposit it will save him the trouble of prospecting the other three creeks, as he would otherwise naturally do; and as long john will pretty certainly do, for the creek coming out of big reuben's gorge is the last of the four he would come to if he took up his search where he left off to-day--which would be the plan he would surely follow. it should save connor a day's work at least--perhaps two or three." "that's true," i responded. "it is an important piece of information. i wonder, though, that nobody else has ever found the deposit you speak of." "do you? i don't. considering that big reuben was standing guard over it, i think it would have been rather remarkable if any one had discovered it." "that's true enough," remarked joe. "but that being the case, how did you come to discover it yourself? big reuben was no respecter of persons, that i'm aware of." "ah, but that's just it. he was. he was afraid of me; or, to speak more correctly, he was afraid of sox--the one single thing on earth of which he was afraid. before i knew of his existence, i was going up the gorge one day when big reuben bounced out on me, and almost before i knew what had happened i found myself hanging by my finger-tips to a ledge of rock fifteen feet up the cliff, with the bear standing erect below me trying his best to claw me down. my hold was so precarious that i could not have retained it long, and my case would have been pretty serious had it not been for socrates. that sagacious bird, seeming to recognize that i was in desperate straits, flew up, perched upon the face of the cliff just out of reach of the bear's claws, and in a tone of authority ordered him to lie down. the astonishment of the bear at being thus addressed by a bird was ludicrous, and at any other time would have made me laugh heartily. he at once dropped upon all fours, and when socrates flipped down to the ground and walked towards him, using language fit to make your hair stand on end, the bear backed away. and he kept on backing away as sox advanced upon him, pouring out as he came every word and every fragment of a quotation he had learned in the course of a long and studious career. one of the reasons i have for thinking that he is getting on for a hundred years old is that sox on that occasion raked up old slang phrases in use in the first years of the century--phrases i had never heard him use before, and which i am sure he cannot have heard since he has been in my possession. "this stream of vituperation was too much for big reuben. he feared no man living, as you know, but a common black raven with a man's voice in his stomach was 'one too many for him,' as the saying is. he turned and bolted; while socrates, flying just above his head, pursued him with jeers and laughter, until at last he found inglorious safety in the inmost recesses of his den, whither sox was much too wise to follow him." "i don't wonder you set a high value on old sox, then," said i. "he probably saved your life that time." "he certainly did: i could not have held on five minutes longer." "and did you ever run across big reuben again?" asked joe. "yes. or, rather, i suppose i should say 'no.' i saw him a good many times, but he never would allow me to come near him. whether he thought i was in league with the evil one, i can't say, but, at any rate, one glimpse of me was enough to send him flying; and as i was sure i need have no fear of him, i had no hesitation in walking up the gorge if it happened to be convenient; and thus it was that i discovered the deposit of lead-ore up near its head." as this piece of information precluded the necessity of our prospecting any further, and as we had by this time finished our meal--which was shared by peter and his attendant sprite--we informed our friend that it was time for us to be starting back; upon which he remarked that he would go part of the way with us, as, by taking one of the gulches farther on he would find an easier ascent to his house than by returning the way he had come. hanging his skis over his shoulder, therefore, he trudged along beside us at a pace which made us hustle to keep up with him. "do you think you would be able to find my house again?" asked the hermit as we walked along. "no," i replied, "i'm sure we couldn't. when we came down the mountain in the clouds that day we were so mixed up that we did not even know whether we were on lincoln or elkhorn, though we had kept away so much to the left coming down that we rather thought we must have got on to one of the spurs of lincoln." "well, you had. i'll show you directly what line you took." half a mile farther on, at the point where the stream we were following joined our own creek, our friend stopped, and pointing up the mountain, said: "if you ever have occasion to come and look me up, all you have to do is to follow your own creek up to its head, when you will come to a high, unscalable cliff, and right at the foot of that cliff you will see the great pile of fallen rocks in which my house is hidden. you can see the cliff from here. when you came down that day you missed the head of the creek you had followed in going up, and by unconsciously bearing to your left all the time you passed the heads of several others as well, and so at length you got into the valley which would have brought you out here if you had continued to follow it." "i see. how far up is it to your house?" "about five miles from where we stand." "it must be all under snow up there," remarked joe. "i wonder you are not afraid of being buried alive." the hermit smiled. "i'm not afraid of that," said he. "it is true the gulch below me gets drifted pretty full--there is probably forty feet of snow in it at this moment--but the point where my house stands always seems to escape; a fact which is due, i think, to the shape of the cliff behind it. it is in the form of a horseshoe, and whichever way the wind blows, the cliff seems to give it a twist which sends the snow off in one direction or another, so that, while the drifts are piled up all around me, the head of the gulch is always fairly free." "that's convenient," said joe. "but for all that, i think i should be afraid to live there myself, especially in the spring." "why?" asked the hermit. "why in the spring particularly?" "i should be afraid of snowslides. the mountain above the cliff is very steep--at least it looks so from here." "it is very steep, extremely steep, and the snow up there is very heavy this winter--i went up to examine it two days ago. but at the same time i saw no traces of there ever having been a slide. there are a good many trees growing on the slope, some of them of large size, which is pretty fair evidence that there has been no slide for a long time--not for a hundred years probably. for as you see, there and there"--pointing to two long, bare tracks on the mountain-side--"when the slides do come down they clean off every tree in their course. no, i have no fear of snowslides. "by the way," he continued, "there is one thing you might tell tom connor when you see him, and that is that big reuben's creek heads in a shallow draw on the mountain above my house. if you follow with your eye from the summit of the cliff upward, you will notice a stretch of bare rock, and above it a strip of trees extending downward from left to right. it is among those trees that the creek heads. "you might mention that to connor," he went on, "in case he should prefer to begin his prospecting downward from the head of the creek instead of upward from big reuben's gorge. and tell him, too, that if he will come to me, i shall be glad to take him up there at any time." "very well," said i, "we'll do so." "yes, we'll certainly tell him," said joe. "it might very well happen that tom would prefer to begin at the top, especially if he should find that long john had got ahead of him and was already working up from below." "exactly. that is what i was thinking of. well, i must be off. i have a longish tramp before me, and the sunset comes pretty early under my cliff." "won't you come home with us to-night?" i asked. "we have only two miles to go. my father told me to ask you the next time we met, and this is such a fine opportunity. i wish you would." "yes; do," joe chimed in. but the hermit shook his head. "you are very kind to suggest it," said he, "and i am really greatly obliged to you, and to mr. crawford also, but i think not. thank you, all the same; but i'll go back home. so, good-bye." "some other time, perhaps," suggested joe. "perhaps--we'll see. by the way, there was one other thing i intended to say, and that is:--look out for long john! he is a dangerous man if he is a coward; in fact, all the more dangerous _because_ he is a coward. so now, good-bye; and remember"--holding up a warning finger--"look out for long john!" with that, he slipped his feet into his skis and away he went; while joe and i turned our own faces homeward. chapter viii the wild cat's trail "he is quite right," said my father, when, on reaching home again, we related to him the results of our day's work and told him how the hermit had warned us against long john. "he is quite right. your hermit is a man of sense in spite of his reputation to the contrary. yetmore, of course, will do anything he can to forestall tom connor, but, if i am not mistaken, he will not venture beyond the law; whereas long john, i feel sure, would not be restrained by any such consideration. he would be quite ready to resort to violence, provided always that he could do it without risk to his own precious person. the hermit is right, too, in saying that long john is all the more dangerous for being the cowardly creature that he is: whatever he may do to head off tom will be done in the dark--you may be sure of that. we must warn tom, so that he may be on his guard." "i'm afraid it won't be much use warning tom," said i. "he is such a heedless fellow and so chuck full of courage that he won't trouble to take any precautions." "i don't suppose he will, but we will warn him, all the same, so that he may at least go about with his eyes open. i'll write to him again to-morrow. and now to our own business. come into the back room. i want your opinion." it had been my father's custom for some time back--and a very good custom, too, i think--whenever there arose a question of management about the affairs of the ranch, to take joe and me into consultation with him. it is probable enough that our opinion, when he got it, was not worth much, but the mere fact that we were asked for it gave us a feeling of responsibility and grown-up-ness which had a good effect. whenever, therefore, any question of importance turned up, the whole male population of crawford's basin voted upon it, and though it is true that nine times out of ten any proposition advanced by my father would receive a unanimous vote, it did happen every now and then that one of us would make a suggestion which would be adopted, much to our satisfaction, thus adding a zest to the work, whatever it might be. for whether the plan originated with my father or with one of us, as we all voted on it we thereby made it our own, and having made it our own; we took infinitely more interest in its accomplishment than does the ordinary hired man, who is told to do this or do that without reason or explanation. it will be readily understood, too, how flattering it was to a couple of young fellows like ourselves to be asked for our opinion by a man like my father, for whose good sense and practical knowledge we had the greatest respect, and of course we were all attention at once, when, seating himself in his desk chair, he began: "you remember that when marsden's cattle first came they broke a couple of the posts around the hay-corral, and that when we re-set them we found that the butt-ends of the posts were beginning to get pretty rotten?" he happened to catch joe's eye, who replied: "i remember; and you said at the time that we should have to renew the fence entirely in two years or less." "exactly. well, now, this is what i've been thinking: instead of renewing with posts and poles, why not build a rough stone wall all round the present fence, which, when once done, would last forever? within a half-mile of the corral there is material in plenty fallen from the face of the second mesa; and everything on the ranch being in good working order, you two boys would be free to put in several weeks hauling stones and dumping them outside the fence--the actual building i would leave till next fall. it will mean a long spell of pretty hard work, for you will hardly gather material enough if you keep at it all the rest of the winter. now, what do you think?" "it seems to me like a good plan," joe answered. "we can take two teams and wagons, help each other to load, drive down together, and help each other to unload; for i suppose you would use stones as big as we can handle by preference." "yes, the bigger the better; especially for the lower courses and for the corners. what's your opinion, phil?" "i agree with joe," i replied. "and with such a short haul--for it will average nearer a quarter than half a mile--i should think we might even collect stones enough for the purpose this winter, provided there doesn't come a big fall of snow and stop us." "then you shall begin to-morrow," said my father. "but here's another question," he continued. "should we build the wall close around the present fence, or should we increase the size of the corral while we are about it?" "i should keep to the present dimensions," said i. "there is no chance that i see of our ever increasing the size of our hay-crop to any great extent, and the corral we have now has always held it all, even that very big crop we had the summer joe came. if----" "yes, 'if,'" my father interrupted, knowing very well what i had in mind. "_if_ we could drain 'the bottomless forty rods' we should need a corral half as big again; but i'm afraid that is beyond us, so we may as well confine ourselves to providing for present needs." "my wig!" exclaimed joe--his favorite exclamation--at the same time rumpling his hair, as though that were the wig he referred to. "what a great thing it would be if we could but drain those forty rods!" "it undoubtedly would," replied my father. "it would about double the value of the ranch, i think; for, besides diverting the present county road between san remo and sulphide--for everybody would then leave the old hill-road and come past our door instead--it would give us a large piece of new land for growing oats and hay. and, do you know, i begin to think it is very possible that within a couple of years we shall have a market for more oats and hay than we can grow, even including the 'forty rods.'" "why?" i asked, in surprise; for, at present, though we disposed of our produce readily enough, it could not be said that there was a booming market. "it is just guess-work," my father replied, "pure guess-work on my part, with a number of good big 'ifs' about it; but if tom connor or long john, or, indeed, any one else, should discover a big vein of lead-ore up on mount lincoln--and the chances, i think, begin to look favorable--what would be the result?" "i don't know," said i. "what?" "why, this whole district would take a big leap forward--that is what would happen. you see, as things stand now, the smelters, not being able to procure in the district lead-ores enough for fluxing purposes, are obliged to bring them in by railroad from other camps. this is very expensive, and the consequence is that they are obliged to make such high charges for smelting that any ore of less value than thirty dollars to the ton is at present worthless to the miner: the cost of hauling it to the smelter and the smelter-charges when it gets there eat up all the proceeds." "i see," said joe. "and the discovery of a mine which would provide the smelters with all the lead-ore they wanted would bring down the charges of smelting and enable the producers of thirty dollar ore to work their claims at a profit." "precisely. and as nine-tenths of the claims in the district produce mainly low-grade ore, which is now left lying on the dumps as worthless, and as even the big mines take out, and throw aside, probably ten tons of low-grade in getting out one ton of high-grade, you can see what a 'boost' the district would receive if all this unavailable material were suddenly to become a valuable and marketable commodity." "i should think it would!" exclaimed joe, enthusiastically. "the prospectors would be getting out by hundreds; the population of sulphide would double; san remo would take a great jump forward; while we--why, we shouldn't _begin_ to be able to grow oats and hay enough to meet the demand." my father nodded. "that's what i think," said he. "and there's another thing," cried i, taking up joe's line of prophecy. "if a big vein of lead-ore should be discovered anywhere about the head of our creek, the natural way for the freighters to get down to san remo would be through here, if----" "that's it," interrupted my father. "that's the whole thing. i-f, if." dear me! what a big, big little word that was. to represent it of the size it looked to us, it would be necessary to paint it on the sky with the tail of a comet dipped in an ocean of ink! after a pause of a minute or two, during which we all sat silent, considering over again what we had considered many and many a time before: whether there were not some possible way of draining off the "forty rods," joe suddenly straightened himself in his seat, rumpled his hair once more--by which sign i knew he had some idea in his head--and said: "i suppose you have thought of it before, mr. crawford, but would it be possible to run a tunnel up from the lower edge of the first mesa, and so draw off the water?" "i have thought of it before, joe," replied my father, "and while i think it might work, i have concluded that it is out of the question. how long a tunnel would it take, do you calculate?" "well, a little more than a quarter of a mile, i suppose." "yes. say twelve hundred feet, at least. well, to run a tunnel of that length would be cheap at ten dollars a foot." "phew!" joe whistled, opening his eyes widely. "that is a staggerer, sure enough. it does look as if there was no way out of it." "no, i'm afraid not," said my father. "and as to making a permanent road across the marsh, i have tried everything i can think of including corduroying with long poles covered with brush and earth. but it was no use. we had a very wet season that summer, and the road, poles and all, was covered with water. that settled it to my mind; we could not expect the freighters and others to come our way when, at any time, they might find the road under water." "no; that did seem to be a clincher. well, as there appears to be no more to be said, let's get to bed, phil. if we are going to haul rocks to-morrow, we shall need a good night's sleep as a starter." the cliff which bounded the eastern edge of the second mesa--at the same time bounding the ranch on its western side--was made up of layers of rock of an average thickness of about a foot, having been evidently built up by successive small flows of lava. the stones piled at the foot of the bluff being flat on both sides were therefore very convenient for wall-building, and so plentiful that we made rapid progress at first in hauling them down to the corral. at the end of three weeks, however, we had picked up all those fragments that were most accessible, and were now obliged to loosen up the great heaps of larger slabs and crack the stones with a sledgehammer. some of these heaps were so large, and the stones composing them of such great size, that when we came to dislodge them we found that an ordinary crowbar made no impression; but we overcame that difficulty, at joe's suggestion, by using a big pine pole as a lever. inserting the butt-end of the pole between two big rocks, we would tie a rope to the other end and hitch the mules to it. the leverage thus obtained was tremendous, and unless the pole broke, something had to come. in this way we could sometimes bring down at one pull rock enough to keep us busy for a week. day after day, without a break, we continued this work, and though it was certainly hard labor we enjoyed it, especially when, by constant practice we found ourselves handling all the time bigger and bigger stones with less and less exertion. it would seem that there could not be much art in so simple a matter as putting a stone into a wagon, and as far as stones of moderate size are concerned there is not. but when you come to deal with slabs of rock weighing a thousand pounds or more, you will find that the "know how" counts for very much more than mere strength. of course, to handle pieces of this size it was necessary to use skids and crowbars, with which, aided by little rollers made of bits of gas-pipe, we did not hesitate to tackle stones which, when we first began, we should have cracked into two or three pieces. we had been at it, as i have said, for more than three weeks, when it happened one day that while driving down with our last load, we were met face to face by a wildcat, with one of our chickens in its mouth. there were a good many of these animals having their lairs among the fallen rocks at the foot of the mesa, and they caused us some trouble, but this was the first time i had known one to make a raid on the chicken-yard in broad daylight. i suppose rabbits were scarce, and the poor beast was driven to this unusual course by hunger. i was driving the mules at the moment, but joe, who was walking beside the wagon, picked up a stone and hurled it at the cat. the animal, of course, bolted--taking his chicken with him, though--and disappeared among the rocks close to where we had just been at work. "joe," said i, "we'll bring up the shotgun to-morrow. we may stir that fellow out and get a shot at him." accordingly, next day, we took the gun with us, and leaning it against a tree near the wagon, set about our usual work. the first stone we loaded that morning was an extra-large one, and joe on one side of the wagon and i on the other were prying it into position with our pinch-bars, when my companion, who was facing the bluff, gently laid down his bar and whispered: "keep quiet, phil! don't move! i see that wildcat! get hold of the lines in case the mules should scare, while i see if i can reach the gun." stooping behind the wagon, he slipped away to where the gun stood, came stooping back, and then, straightening up, he raised the gun to his shoulder. up to that moment the cat had stood so still that i had been unable to distinguish it, but just as joe raised the gun it bolted. my partner fired a snap-shot, and down came the cat, tumbling over and over. "good shot!" i cried. but hardly had i done so when the animal jumped up again and popped into a hole between two rocks before joe could get a second shot. "let's dig him out, joe," i cried. and seizing a crowbar, i led the way to the foot of the cliff. working away with the bar, while joe stood ready with the gun, i soon enlarged the hole enough to let me look in, but it was so dark inside, and i got into my own light so much that i could see nothing. i happened to have a letter in my pocket, and taking the envelope i dropped a little stone into it, screwed up the corner, and lighting the other end, threw the bit of paper into the hole. my little fire-brand flickered for a moment, and then burned up brightly, when i saw the wildcat lying flat upon its side, evidently quite dead. thereupon we both set to work and enlarged the hole so that joe could crawl in, which he immediately did. i expected him to come out again in a moment, but it was a full minute before he reappeared, and when he did so he only poked out his head and said, in an excited tone: "come in here, phil! here's the queerest thing--just come in here for a minute!" of course i at once crept through the hole, to find myself in a little chamber about ten feet long, six feet wide and four feet high, built up of great flat slabs of stone, which, falling from above, had accidentally so arranged themselves as to form this little room. at first i thought it was the little room itself to which joe had referred as "queer," but joe, scouting such an idea, exclaimed: "no, no, bless you! i didn't mean that. that's nothing. look here!" so saying, he struck a match and showed me, along one side of the chamber, a great crack in the ground, three feet wide, extending to the left an unknown distance--for in that direction it was covered by loose rocks of large size--while to the right it pinched out entirely. it was evident to me that this crevice had existed ever since the great break had occurred which had separated the first from the second mesa, but that, being covered by the fragments which had fallen from the cliff--itself formed by the subsidence of the first mesa from what had once been the general level--it had hitherto remained concealed. "well, that certainly is 'queer,'" said i. "how deep is it, i wonder?" "don't know. pitch a stone into it." i did so; judging from the sound that the crevice was probably thirty or forty feet deep. "that's what i should guess," said joe. "but there's another thing, phil, a good deal queerer than a mere crack in the ground. lie down and put your ear over the hole and listen." i did as directed, and then at length i understood where the "queerness" came in. i could distinctly hear the rush of water down below! rising to my knees, i stared at joe, who, kneeling also, stared back at me, both keeping silence for a few seconds. at length: "where does it come from, joe?" i asked. "i don't know," joe replied. "mount lincoln, perhaps. but i do know where it goes to." "you do? where?" "down to 'the forty rods,' of course." "that's it!" i cried, thumping my fist into the palm of the other hand. "that's certainly it! look here, joe. i'll tell you what we'll do. we'll quit hauling rock for this morning, go and get a long rope, climb down into this crack, see how much water there is, and find out if we can where it goes to." "all right," said joe. "your father won't object, i'm sure." "no, he won't object. though he relies on our doing a good day's work without supervision, he relies, too, on our using our common sense, and i'm sure he'll agree that this is a matter that ought to be investigated without delay. it may be of the greatest importance." "all right!" cried joe. "then let us get about it at once!" chapter ix the underground stream it was on a saturday morning that we made this discovery, and as my father and mother had both driven down to san remo and would not be back till sunset, we could not ask permission to abandon our regular work and go exploring. but, as i had said to joe, though he trusted us to work faithfully at any task we might undertake, my father also expected us to use our own discretion in any matter which might turn up when he was not at hand to advise with us. i had, therefore, no hesitation in driving back to the ranch, when, having unloaded our one stone and stabled the mules, joe and i, taking with us a long, stout rope and the stable-lantern, retraced our steps to the wildcat's house. the first thing to be done was to enlarge the entrance so that we might have daylight to work by, and this being accomplished, we lighted the lantern and lowered it by a cord into the hole. we found, however, that a bulge in the rock prevented our seeing to the bottom, and all we gained by this move was to ascertain that the crevice was about forty feet deep, as we had guessed. the next thing, therefore, was for one of us to go down, and the only way to do this was to slide down a rope. this, doubtless, would be easy enough, but the climbing up again might be another matter. we were not afraid to venture on this score, however, for, as it happened, we had both often amused ourselves by climbing a rope hung from one of the rafters in the hay-barn, and though that was a climb of only twenty feet, we had done it so often and so easily that we did not question our ability to ascend a rope of double the length. "who's to go down, joe, you or i?" i asked. "whichever you like, phil," replied my companion. "i suppose you'd like to be the first, wouldn't you?" "oh, yes, that's a matter of course," i answered, "but as you are the discoverer you ought to have first chance, so down you go, old chap!" "very well, then," said joe, "if you say so, i'll go." "well, i do--so that settles it." i knew joe well enough to be sure he would be eager to be the first, and though i should have liked very much to take the lead myself, it seemed to me only just that joe, as the original discoverer, should, as i had said, be given the choice. this question being decided, we tied one end of the rope around a big stone, heavy enough to hold an elephant, and dropped the other end into the hole. the descent at first was very easy, for the walls being only three feet apart, and there being many rough projections on either side, it was not much more difficult than going down a ladder, especially as i, standing a little to one side, lowered the lantern bit by bit, that joe might have a light all the time to see where to set his feet. arrived at the bulge, joe stopped, and standing with one foot on either wall, looked up and said: "it opens out below here, phil; i shall have to slide the rest of the way. you might lower the lantern down to the bottom now, if you please." i did so at once, and then asked: "can you see the bottom, joe?" "yes," he replied. "the crevice is much wider down there, and the floor seems to be smooth and dry. i can't see any sign of water anywhere, but i can hear it plainly enough. good-bye for the present; i'm going down now." with that he disappeared under the bulge in the wall, while i, placing my hand upon the rope, presently felt the strain slacken, whereupon i called out: "all right, joe?" "all right," came the answer. "how's the air down there?" "seems to be perfectly fresh." "can you see the water?" "no, i can't; but i can hear it. there's a heap of big rocks in the passage to the south and the splashing comes from the other side of it. i'm going to untie the lantern, phil, and go and explore a bit. just wait a minute." very soon i heard his voice again calling up to me. "it's all right, phil. i've found the water. you may as well come down." "look here, joe," i replied. "before i come down, it might be as well to make sure that you can come up." "there's something in that," said joe, with a laugh. "well, then, i'll come up first." i felt the rope tauten again, and pretty soon my companion's head appeared, when, scrambling over the bulge, he once more stood astride of the crevice, and looking up said: "it's perfectly safe, phil. the only troublesome bit is in getting over the bulge, and that doesn't amount to anything. it's safe enough for you to come down." "very well, then, i'll come; so go on down again." taking a candle we had brought with us, i set it on a projection where it would cast a light into the fissure, and seizing the rope, down i went. the descent was perfectly easy, and in a few seconds i found myself standing beside joe at the bottom. the crevice down here was much wider than above--ten or twelve feet--the floor, composed of sandstone, having a decided downward tilt towards the south. in this direction joe, lantern in hand, led the way. piled up in the passage was a large heap of lava-blocks which had fallen, presumably, through the opening above, and climbing over these, we saw before us a very curious sight. [illustration: "we saw before us a very curious sight"] on the right hand side of the crevice--that is to say, on the western or second mesa side--between the sandstone floor and the lowest ledge of lava, there issued a thin sheet of water, coming out with such force that it swept right across, and striking the opposite wall, turned and ran off southward--away from us, that is. only for a short distance, however, it ran in that direction, for we could see that the stream presently took another turn, this time to the eastward, presumably finding its way through a crack in the lava of the first mesa. "i'm going to see where it goes to," cried joe; and pulling off his boots and rolling up his trousers, he waded in. he expected to find the water as cold as the iced water of any other mountain stream, but to his surprise it was quite pleasantly warm. "i'll tell you what it is, phil," said he, stepping back again for a moment. "this water must run under ground for a long distance to be as warm as it is. and what's more, there must be a good-sized reservoir somewhere between the lava and the sandstone to furnish pressure enough to make the water squirt out so viciously as it does." entering the stream again, which, though hardly an inch deep, came out of the rock with such "vim" that when it struck his feet it flew up nearly to his knees, joe waded through, and then turning, shouted to me: "it goes down this way, phil, through a big crack in the lava. it just goes flying. don't trouble to come"--observing that i was about to pull off my own boots--"you can't see any distance down the crack." but whatever there was to be seen, i wanted to see too, and disregarding his admonition, i pretty soon found myself standing beside my companion. the great cleft into which we were peering was about six feet wide at the bottom, coming together some twenty feet above our heads, having been apparently widened at the base by the action of the water, which, being here ankle-deep, rushed foaming over and around the many blocks of lava with which the channel was encumbered. as far as we could see, the fissure led straight away without a bend; and joe was for trying to walk down it at once. i suggested, however, that we leave that for the present and try another plan. "look here, joe," said i. "if we try to do that we shall probably get pretty wet, and stand a good chance besides of hurting our feet among the rocks. now, i propose that we go down to the ranch again, get our rubber boots, and at the same time bring back with us my father's compass and the tape-measure and try to survey this water-course. by doing that, and then by following the same line on the surface, we may be able to decide whether it is really this stream which keeps 'the forty rods' so wet." "i don't think there can be any doubt about that," joe replied; "but i think your plan is a good one, all the same, so let us do it." we did not waste much time in getting down to the ranch and back again, when, pulling on our rubber boots, we proceeded to make our survey. it was not an easy task. with the ring at the end of the tape-measure hooked over my little finger, i took a candle in that hand and the compass in the other, and having ascertained that the course of the stream was due southeast, i told joe to go ahead. my partner, therefore, with his arm slipped through the handle of the lantern and with a pole in his hand with which to test the depth of the stream, thereupon started down the passage, stepping from rock to rock when possible, and taking to the water when the rocks were too far apart, until, having reached the limit of the tape-measure, he made a mark upon the wall with a piece of white chalk. this being done, i noted on a bit of paper the direction and the distance, when joe advanced once more, i following as far as to the chalk-mark, when the operation was repeated. in this manner we worked our way, slowly and carefully, down the passage, the direction of which varied only two or three degrees to one side or the other of southeast, until, having advanced a little more than a thousand feet, we found our further progress barred. for some time it had appeared to us that the sound of splashing water was increasing in distinctness, though the stream itself made so much noise in that hollow passage that we could not be sure whether we were right or not. at length, however, having made his twentieth chalk-mark, indicating one thousand feet, joe, waving his lantern for me to come on, advanced once more; but before i had come to his last mark, he stopped and shouted back to me that he could go no farther. wondering why not, i slowly waded forward, joe himself winding up the tape-measure as i approached, until i found myself standing beside my companion, when i saw at once "why not." the stream here took a sudden dive down hill, falling about three feet into a large pool, the limits of which we could not discern--for we could see neither sides nor end--its surface unbroken, except in a few places where we could detect the ragged points of big lava-blocks projecting above the water, while here and there a rounded boulder showed its smooth and shining head. joe, very carefully descending to the edge of the pool, measured the depth with his rod, when, finding it to be about four feet deep, we concluded that we would let well enough alone and end our survey at this point. "come on up, joe," i called out. "no use trying to go any farther: it's too dangerous; we might get in over our heads." "just a minute," joe replied. "let's see if we can't find out which way the current sets in the pool." with that he took from his pocket a newspaper he had brought with him in case for any purpose we should need to make a "flare," and crumpling this into a loose ball he set it afloat in the pool. away it sailed, quickly at first, and then more slowly; and taking a sight on it as far as it was distinguishable, i found that the set of the current continued as before--due southeast. "all right, joe," i cried. "come on, now." and joe, giving me the end of his stick to take hold of, quickly rejoined me, when together we made our way carefully up the stream again, and climbing the rope, once more found ourselves out in the daylight. "now, joe," said i, "let us run our line and find out where it takes us." having previously measured the distance from the point where the underground stream turned southeast to where the rope hung down, we now measured the same distance back again along the foot of the bluff, and thence, ourselves turning southeastward, we measured off a thousand feet. this brought us down to the lowest of the old lake-benches, about a hundred yards back of the house, when, sighting along the same line with the compass, we found that that faithful little servant pointed us straight to the entrance of the lower cañon. "then that does settle it!" cried joe. "we've found the stream that keeps 'the forty rods' wet; there can be no doubt of it." it did, indeed seem certain that we had at last discovered the stream which supplied "the forty rods" with water; but allowing that we _had_ discovered it:--what then? how much better off were we? beneath our feet, as we had now every reason to believe, ran the long-sought water-course, but between us and it was a solid bed of lava about forty feet thick; and how to get the water to the surface, and thus prevent it from continuing to render useless the meadow below, was a problem beyond our powers. "it beats me," said joe, taking off his hat and tousling his hair according to custom. "i can see no possible way of doing it. we shall have to leave it to your father. perhaps he may be able to think of a plan. do you suppose he'll venture to go down the rope, phil?" "no, i don't," i replied. "it is all very well for you and me, with our one hundred and seventy pounds, or thereabouts, but as my father weighs forty pounds more than either of us, and has not been in the habit of climbing ropes for amusement as long as i can remember, i think the chances are that he won't try it." "i suppose not. it's a pity, though, for i'm sure he would be tremendously interested to see the stream down there in the crevice. couldn't we----look here, phil: couldn't we set up a ladder to reach from the bottom up to the bulge?" i shook my head. "i don't think so," i answered. "it would take a ladder twenty feet long, and the bulge in the wall would prevent its going down." "that's true. well, then, i'll tell you what we can do. we'll make two ladders of ten feet each--a ten-foot pole will go down easily enough--set one on the floor of the crevice and the other on that wide ledge about half way up to the bulge. what do you think of that?" "yes, i think we could do that," i replied. "we'll try it anyhow. but we must go in and get some dinner now: it's close to noon." we did not take long over our dinner--we were too anxious to get to work again--and as soon as we had finished we selected from our supply of fire-wood four straight poles, each about ten feet long, and with these, a number of short pieces of six-inch plank, a hammer, a saw and a bag of nails, we drove back to the scene of action. even a ten-foot pole, we found, was an awkward thing to get down to the bottom of the fissure, but after a good deal of coaxing we succeeded in lowering them all, when we at once set to work building our ladders. the first one, standing on the floor of the crevice, reached as high as the ledge joe had mentioned, while the second, planted upon the ledge itself, leaned across the chasm, its upper end resting against the rock just below the bulge, so that, with the rope to hold on by, it ought to be easy enough to get up and down. it is true that the second ladder being almost perpendicular, looked a little precarious, but we had taken great care to set it up solidly and were certain it could not slip. as to the strength of the ladders, there was nothing to fear on that score, for the smallest of the poles was five inches in diameter at the little end. this work took us so long, for we were very careful to make things strong and firm, that it was within half an hour of sunset ere we had finished, and as it was then too late to begin hauling rocks, we drove down to the ranch again at once. as we came within sight of the house, we had the pleasure of seeing the buggy with my father and mother in it draw up at the door. observing us coming, they waited for us, when, the moment we jumped out of the wagon, before we could say a word ourselves, my father exclaimed: "hallo, boys! what are you wearing your rubber boots for?" my mother, however, looking at our faces instead of at our feet, with that quickness of vision most mothers of boys seem to possess, saw at once that something unusual had occurred. "what's happened, phil?" she asked. "we've made a discovery," i replied, "and we want father to come and see it." "can't i come, too?" she inquired, smiling at my eagerness. "i'm afraid not," i answered. "i wish you could, but i'm afraid your petticoats would get in the way." to this, perceiving easily enough that we had some surprise in store for my father, and not wishing to spoil the fun, my mother merely replied: "oh, would they? well, i'm afraid i couldn't come anyhow: i must go in and prepare supper. so, be off with you at once, and don't be late. you can tell me all about it this evening." "one minute, father!" i cried; and thereupon i ran to the house, reappearing in a few seconds with his rubber boots, which i thrust into the back of the buggy, and then, climbing in on one side while joe scrambled in on the other, i called out: "now, father, go ahead!" "where to?" he asked, laughing. "oh, i forgot," said i. "up to our stone-quarry." if we had expected my father to be surprised, we were not disappointed. at first he rather demurred at going down our carefully prepared ladders, not seeing sufficient reason, as he declared, to risk his neck; but the moment we called his attention to the sound of water down below, and he began to understand what the presence of the rubber boots meant, he became as eager as either joe or i had been. in short, he went with us over the whole ground, even down to the pool; and so interested was he in the matter that he quite forgot the flight of time, until, having reascended the ladders and followed with us our line on the surface down to the heap of stones with which we had marked the thousand-foot point, he--and we, too--were recalled to our duties by my mother, who, seeing us standing there talking, came to the back-door of the kitchen and called to us to come in at once if we wanted any supper. long was the discussion that ensued that evening as we sat around the fire in the big stone fireplace; but long as it was, it ended as it had begun with a remark made by my father. "well," said he, as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his slippered feet before the fire, "it appears to come to this: instead of discovering a way to drain 'the forty rods,' you have only provided us with another insoluble problem to puzzle our heads over. there seems to be no way that we can figure out--at present, anyhow--by which the water can be brought to the surface, and consequently our only resource is, apparently, to discover, if possible, where it first runs in under the lava-bed, to come squirting out again down in that fissure--an almost hopeless task, i fear." "it does look pretty hopeless," joe assented; "though we have found out one thing, at least, which may be of service in our search, and that is that the water runs between the lava and the sandstone. that fact should be of some help to us, for it removes from the list of streams to be examined all those whose beds lie below the sandstone." "that's true enough," i agreed. "but, then again, the source may not be some mountain stream running off under the lava, as we have been supposing. it is quite possible that it is a spring which comes up through the sandstone, and not being able to get up to daylight because of the lava-cap, goes worming its way through innumerable crevices to the underground reservoir we suppose to exist somewhere beneath the surface of the second mesa." "that is certainly a possibility," replied my father. "nevertheless, it is my opinion that it will be well worth while making an examination of the creeks on mount lincoln. the streams to search would be those running on a sandstone bed and coming against the upper face of the lava-flow. it is worth the attempt, at least, and when the snow clears off you boys shall employ any off-days you may have in that way." "it would be well, wouldn't it, to tell tom connor about it?" suggested joe. "he would keep his eyes open for us. i suppose prospectors as a rule don't take much note of such things, but tom would do so, i'm sure, if we asked him." "yes," replied my father. "that is a good idea; and if either of you should come across your friend, the hermit, again, be sure to ask him. he knows mount lincoln as nobody else does, and if he had ever noticed anything of the sort he would tell us. don't forget that. and now to bed." chapter x how tom connor went boring for oil one thing was plain at any rate: we could do nothing towards finding the source of the underground stream until the snow cleared off the mountain, and that was likely to be later than usual this year, for the fall had been exceedingly heavy in the higher parts. we could see from the ranch that many of the familiar hollows were obliterated--leveled off by the great masses of snow which had drifted into them and filled them up. we therefore went about our work of hauling stone, and so continued while the cold weather lasted, interrupted only once by a heavy storm about the end of january, which, while it added another two feet to the thick blanket of snow already covering the mountains, quickly melted off down in the snug hollow where the ranch lay, so that our work was not delayed more than two or three days. one advantage to us of this storm was that it enabled us to learn something--not much, certainly, but still something--regarding the source of the stream in the fissure. it did not show us where that source was, but it proved to us pretty clearly where it was _not_. on the morning of the storm, joe, at breakfast-time, turning to my father, said: "wouldn't it be a good plan to go and measure the flow of the water down in the crevice, mr. crawford? we might be able to find out, by watching its rise and fall, whether the melting of the snow on the second mesa, or on the foot-hills beyond, or on the mountain itself affects it most." "that's a very good idea, joe," my father replied. "yes; as soon as we have fed the stock you can make a measuring-stick and go up there; and what's more, you had better make a practice of measuring it every day. the increase or decrease of the flow might be an important guide as to where it comes from." this we did, and thereby ascertained pretty conclusively that the source was nowhere on the second mesa, for in the course of a couple of weeks the heavy fall of new snow covering that wide stretch of country melted off without making any perceptible difference in the volume of the stream. though there were several other falls of snow up in the mountains later in the season, this was the last one of any consequence down on the mesas. the winter was about over as far as we were concerned, and by the middle of the next month, the surface of "the bottomless forty rods" beginning to soften again, the freighters, who had been coming our way ever since the early part of november, deserted us and once more went back to the hill road--to our mutual regret. for a few days longer the stage-coach kept to our road, but very soon it, too, abandoned us, after which, except for an occasional horseback-rider, we had scarcely a passer-by. as was natural, we greatly missed this constant coming and going, though we should have missed it a good deal more but for the fact that with the softening of the ground our spring work began, when, marsden's cattle having been removed by their owner, joe and i started plowing for oats. with the prospect of a steady season's work before us, we entered upon our labors with enthusiasm. we had never felt so "fit" before, for our long spell of stone-hauling had put us into such good trim that we were in condition to tackle anything. at the same time, we did not forget our underground stream, keeping strict watch upon it as the snow-line retreated up the foot-hills of mount lincoln. but though one of us visited the stream every day, taking careful measurement of the flow, we could not see that it had increased at all. the intake must be either high on the mountain, or, as i had suggested, the spring must come up through the sandstone underlying the second mesa and was therefore not affected by the running off of the snow-water on the surface. as the town of sulphide was so situated that its inhabitants could not see mount lincoln on account of a big spur of elkhorn mountain which cut off their view, any one in that town wishing to find out how the snow was going off on the former mountain was obliged to ride down in our direction about three miles in order to get a sight of it. tom connor, having neither the time to spare nor the money to spend on horse-hire, could not do this for himself, but, knowing that the mountain was visible to us any day and all day, he had requested us to notify him when the foot-hills began to get bare. this time had now arrived--it was then towards the end of march--and my father consequently wrote to tom, telling him so; at the same time inviting him to come down to us and make his start from the ranch whenever he was ready. to our great surprise, we received a reply from him next afternoon, brought down by young seth appleby, the widow appleby's ten-year-old boy, in which he stated that he could not start just yet as he was out of funds, but that he was hoping to raise one hundred and fifty dollars by a mortgage on his little house, which would be all he would need, and more, to keep him going for the summer. "why, what's the meaning of this!" exclaimed my father, when he had read the letter. "how does tom come to be out of funds at this time of year? he's been at work all winter at high wages and he ought to have saved up quite a tidy sum--in fact, he was counting on doing so. what's the matter, i wonder? did he tell you anything about it, seth?" "no," replied the youngster, "he didn't tell me, but he did tell mother, and then mother, she asked all the miners who come to our store, and they told her all about it. it was mother that sent me down with the letter, and she told me i was to be sure and 'splain all about it to you." "that was kind of mrs. appleby," said my father. "but come in, seth, and have something to eat, and then you can give us your mother's message." seated at the table, with a big loaf, a plate of honey and a pitcher of milk before him, young seth, after he had taken off the fine edge of a remarkably healthy appetite, related to us between bites the story he had been sent down to tell. it was a long and complicated story as he told it, and even when it was finished we could not be quite sure that we had it right; but supposing that we had, it came to this: tom had worked faithfully on the pelican, never having missed a day, and had earned a very considerable sum of money, of which he had, with commendable--and, for him, unusual--discretion, invested the greater part in a little house, putting by one hundred and fifty dollars for his own use during the coming summer. the fund reserved would have been sufficient to see him through the prospecting season had he stuck to it; but this was just what he had not done. two years before, a friend of his had been killed in one of the mines by that most frequent of accidents: picking out a missed shot; since which time the widow, a bustling, hearty irishwoman, had supported herself and her five children. but during the changeable weather of early spring, mrs. murphy had been taken down with a severe attack of pneumonia--a disease particularly dangerous at high altitudes--and distress reigned in the family. as a matter of course, tom, ever on the lookout to do somebody a good turn, at once hopped in and took charge of everything; providing a doctor and a nurse for his old friend's widow, and seeing that the children wanted for nothing; and all with such success that he brought his patient triumphantly out of her sickness; while as for himself, when he modestly retired from the fray, he found that he was just as poor as he had been at the beginning of winter. it is not to be supposed, however, that this worried tom. not a bit of it. it was unlucky, of course, but as it could not be helped there was no more to be said; and so long as he owned that house of his he could always raise one hundred and fifty dollars on it--it was worth three or four times as much, at least. as the prospecting season was now approaching, he therefore let it be known that he desired to raise this money, and then quietly went on with his work again, feeling confident that some one would presently make his appearance, cash in hand, anxious to secure so good a loan. up to that morning, seth believed, the expected capitalist had not turned up. as the boy finished his story, and--with a sigh at having reached his capacity--his meal as well, my father rose from his chair, exclaiming: "what a good fellow that is! when it comes to practical charity, tom connor leads us all. in fact, he is in a class by himself:--there is no tom but tom, and"--smiling at the little messenger--"seth appleby is his prophet--on this occasion." at which seth opened his eyes, wondering what on earth my father was talking about. "now, i'll tell you what we'll do," the latter continued. "seth says his mother wants another thousand pounds of potatoes; so you shall take them up this afternoon, phil; have a good talk with her; find out the rights of this matter; and then, if there is anything we can do to help, we can do it understandingly." i was very glad to do this, and with seth on the seat beside me and his pony tied behind the wagon, away i went. as i had permission to stay in town over night if i liked, and as mrs. appleby urged me to do so, saying that i could share seth's room, i decided to accept her offer, and after supper we were seated in the store talking over tom connor's affairs--which i found to be just about as seth had described them--when who should burst in upon us but tom himself. evidently my presence was a surprise to him, for on seeing me he exclaimed: "hallo, phil! you here! got my message, did you?" "yes," i replied, "we got it all right; and very much astonished we were." forthwith i tackled him on the subject, and though at first tom was disposed to be evasive in his answers, finding that i had all the facts, he at length admitted the truth of the story. "but, bless you!" cried he. "that's nothing. i can raise a hundred and fifty easy enough on my house and pay it off again next winter, so there's nothing to fuss about. and now, ma'am," turning to mrs. appleby, and abruptly cutting off any further discussion of the topic, "now, ma'am, i'll give you a little order for groceries, if you please--which was what i came in for." so saying, he took a scrap of paper out of his pocket and proceeded to read out item after item: flour and bacon, molasses and dried apples, a little tea and a great deal of coffee, and so on, and so on, until at last he crumpled up his list between his two big hands, saying: "there! and we'll top off with a gallon of coal oil, if you please." "ah," said the widow, laying down her pencil--she was a slight, nervous little woman--"i was afraid you'd come to coal oil presently. i haven't a pint of it in the house." "well, that's a pity," said her customer. "then i suppose i'll have to go down to yetmore's for coal oil after all." "yes, yetmore can let you have it, i know," replied the widow, in a tone of voice which caused us both to look at her inquiringly. "he's got a barrel of it," she continued. "a whole barrel of it--belonging to me." "eh! what's that?" cried tom. "belonging to you?" "yes. and he won't give it up. you see, it was this way. i ordered a barrel from the wholesale people in san remo, and they sent it up two days ago. here's the bill of lading. 'one barrel coal oil, no. , by slaughter's freight line.' the freighters made a mistake and delivered it at yetmore's, and now he won't give it up." "won't, eh!" cried tom, with sudden heat. "we'll just look into that." "it's no use," interposed mrs. appleby, holding up her hand deprecatingly. "you can't take it by force; and i've tried persuasion. he's got my barrel; there's no mistake about that, because seth went down and identified the number; but he says he ordered a barrel himself from the same firm and it isn't his fault if they didn't put the right number on." "well, that's coming it pretty strong," said tom, indignantly. "yes, and it's hard on me," replied the widow, "because people come in here for coal oil, and when they find i haven't any they go off to yetmore's, and of course he gets the rest of their order. i might go to law," she added, "but i can't afford that; and by the time my case was settled yetmore's barrel will have arrived and he'll send it over here and pretend to be sorry for the mistake." "i see. well, ma'am, you put me down for a gallon of coal oil just the same, and get my order together as soon as you like. i'm going out now to take a bit of a stroll around town." though he spoke calmly, the big miner was, in fact, swelling with wrath at the widow's tale of petty tyranny. without saying a word more to her, and forgetting my existence, apparently, he marched off down the street with the determination of going into yetmore's and denouncing the storekeeper before his customers. but, no sooner had he come within sight of the store than he suddenly changed his mind. "ho, ho!" he laughed, stopping short and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "ho, ho! here's a game! he keeps it in the back end of the store, i know. i'll just meander in and prospect a bit." the store was a long, plainly-constructed building, such as may be seen in plenty in any colorado mining camp, standing on the hillside with its back to the creek. in front its foundation was level with the street, but in the rear it was supported upon posts four feet high, leaving a large vacant space beneath--a favorite "roosting" place for pigs. it was the sight of these four-foot posts which caused the widow's champion so suddenly to change his mind. to tell the truth, tom connor, in spite of his forty years, was no more than an overgrown boy, in whose simple character the love of justice and the love of fun jostled each other for first place. he believed he had discovered an opportunity to "take a rise" out of yetmore and at the same time to compel the misappropriator of other people's goods to restore the widow's property. that the contemplated act might savor of illegality did not trouble him--did not occur to him, in fact. he was sure that he had justice on his side, and that was enough for him. full of his idea, tom walked into the store, where he found yetmore very busy serving customers, for it was near closing time, and to an inquiry as to what he wanted, he replied: "nothing just now, thank ye. i'll just mosey around and take a look at things." to this yetmore nodded assent; for though he and the miner had no affection for each other, they were outwardly on good terms, and it was no unusual thing for tom to come into the store. connor "moseyed" accordingly, and kept on "moseying" until he reached the back of the building, and there, standing upright against the rear wall, was the barrel, and beside it, mounted on a chair, a putty-faced boy, a stranger to tom, who was busy boring a hole in the top of it. "trade pretty brisk?" inquired connor, sauntering up. "you bet," replied the youth, laconically. "what does ' ' stand for?" asked the miner, tapping the top of the barrel with his finger. "that's the number of the barrel," was the reply. "the wholesalers down in san remo always cut a number in their barrels when they send 'em out." "your boss must be a right smart business man to run a 'stablishment like this," remarked tom, after a pause, glancing about the store. "that's what," replied the boy, admiringly. "you'll have to get up early to get around the boss. why, this barrel here----" he stopped short, as though suddenly remembering the value of silence, and screwing up one eye as if to indicate that he could tell things if he liked, he added, "well, when the boss gets his hands on a thing he don't let go easy, i tell you that." "ah! smart fellow, the boss." "you bet," remarked the youth once more. all this time tom had been taking notes. the thin, unplastered wall of the store was constructed of upright planks with battens over the joints. it was pierced with one window; and tom noted that between the edge of the window and the centre of the barrel were four boards. he noted also that the barrel stood firm and square upon the floor and that the floor itself was water-tight. while he was making these observations, the boy finished his boring operation and having inserted a vent-peg in the hole, walked off. as soon as he was out of sight, tom stepped up to the barrel, pulled out the vent-peg, dropped it into his pocket, and having done so, sauntered leisurely up the store again and went out. for a little while he hung around on the other side of the street and presently he had the satisfaction of seeing the lights in the store extinguished, soon after which yetmore came out and locking the door behind him, walked away to his house. "ah! so the putty-faced boy sleeps in the store, does he?" remarked tom to himself; a conclusion in which he was confirmed when he saw a candle lighted and the boy making up his bed under the counter. a few minutes later the candle was blown out, when tom set off briskly up the street for the widow's store. he found mrs. appleby and seth tidying up preparatory to closing the store, and stepping in, he said, "you don't take in lodgers, i suppose, ma'am? i'm intending to stay down town to-night." "no, we don't," replied the widow. "the house is not large enough. but if you've nowhere to sleep, you're welcome to make up a bed on the floor--i can let you have some blankets." "thank ye, ma'am, i'll be glad to do it, if you please." accordingly, after the widow had retired up-stairs to her room and seth and i to ours, tom spread his blankets on the floor and went to bed himself. all was dark and silent when, at one o'clock in the morning, tom sat up in bed, and after fumbling about for a minute, found a match and lighted a candle. "have to get up early to get around the boss, eh?" said he to himself, with a chuckle. "wonder if this is early enough." in his stocking-feet he walked to the back door and opened it wide. after pausing for an instant to listen, he came back, and lifting the empty oil barrel from its stand he carried it outside. next he selected two buckets, and having reached down from a high shelf a large funnel, an auger and a faucet, he carried them and his boots into the back yard, and having locked the door behind him, walked off into the darkness. in a short time he reappeared, leading a horse, to which was harnessed a low wood-sled. upon this sled he firmly lashed the barrel, and gathering up the other implements he took the horse by the bridle and led him away down the silent street; for the town of sulphide as yet boasted neither a lighting system nor a police force--or, rather, the police force was accustomed to betake himself to bed with the rest of the community--so tom had the dark and empty street entirely to himself. in a few minutes he drew up at the rear of yetmore's store, where, leaving the horse standing, he proceeded to count four planks from the edge of the window. having marked the right plank, he took the auger, and crawling beneath the store, set to work boring a hole up through the floor. presently the auger broke through, coming with a thump against the bottom of the barrel above, when tom withdrew the instrument, and taking out his knife enlarged the hole considerably. so far, so good. next he set a bucket beneath the hole, took the faucet between his teeth in order to have it handy, and inserting the auger, he set to, boring a hole in the bottom of the barrel. soon the tool popped through, when tom hastily substituted the faucet, which he drove firmly in with a blow of his horny palm. the putty-faced boy inside the store stirred in his blankets, muttered something about "them pigs," and went to sleep again. tom waited a moment to listen, and then drew off a bucket of oil. as soon as this was full he replaced it with the other bucket and emptied the first one into the barrel on the sled. this process he repeated until the oil began to dribble, when he carefully knocked out the faucet, and having collected his tools and emptied the last bucket into the barrel, he again took the horse by the bridle and silently led him away. arrived once more in the widow's back yard, tom unshipped the barrel and went off to restore the horse to its stable. he soon returned, and having unlocked the back door and re-lighted his candle, he proceeded to get the barrel into the house and back upon its stand; a work of immense labor, rendered all the harder by the necessity of keeping silence. tom was a man of great strength, however, and at last he had the satisfaction of seeing the barrel once more in its place without having heard a sound from the sleepers overhead. having washed the buckets and tools, he put them back where they came from, locked the door, and for the second time that night went to bed. it was about half-past six in the morning that tom, happening to look out of the front window, saw yetmore coming hurriedly up the street, like a hound following the trail of the sled. stepping to the little window at the rear, tom peeped out and saw the storekeeper enter the back yard, walk to the spot where the sled had stopped, and stand for a minute examining the marks in the soil. having apparently satisfied himself, he turned about and went off down the street again. "what's he going to do about it, i wonder?" said tom to himself. "reckon i'll just mosey down to the store and see." as he heard seth coming down the stairs, he unlocked the front door and stepping outside, walked down to yetmore's. "morning," said he, cheerfully. "it's a bit early for customers, i suppose, but i'm in a hurry this morning and i'd like to know whether you can let me have a gallon of coal oil." "sorry to say i can't," replied the storekeeper. "our only barrel sprang a leak last night and every drop ran out." "you don't say!" exclaimed tom, with an air of concern. "then i suppose i'll have to go up to the widow appleby's. she's got plenty, i know." as he said this he looked hard at yetmore, who in turn looked hard at him. "maybe," said the storekeeper presently, "maybe you know something about that leak?" tom nodded. "i do," said he. "i know _all_ about it; and i'm the only one that does. i know the whole story, too, from one end to the other. the widow has got her barrel of oil; and you and i can make a sort of a guess as to how she got it. as to your barrel, it unfortunately sprung a leak. is that the story?" yetmore stood for a minute glowering at the big miner, and then said, shortly, "that's the story." "all right," replied tom; and turning on his heel, he went out. chapter xi tom's second window mrs. appleby never did quite understand how her barrel of oil had been recovered for her. all she knew for certain was that her good friend, mr. connor, had somehow procured it from yetmore, and that yetmore was, as mr. connor said, "agreeable." as for myself, when tom that morning, taking me aside, related with many chuckles how he had occupied himself during the night, i must own that my only feeling was one of satisfaction at the thought that yetmore had been made to restore the widow's property, and that the fear of ridicule would probably keep him silent on the subject. sharing with most boys the love of fair play and the hatred of oppression, tom's cleverness and promptness of action seemed to me altogether commendable. nevertheless, i foresaw one consequence of the transaction which, i thought, was pretty sure to follow, namely, that it would arouse in yetmore an angry resolve to "get even" with tom by hook or by crook. that he would resort to active reprisals if the opportunity presented itself i felt certain, and so i warned our friend. but tom, careless as usual, refused to take any precautions, believing that yetmore would not venture as long as he--tom--had, as he expressed it, two such damaging shots in his magazine as the story of the lead boulder and the story of the oil barrel; on both of which subjects he had, with rare discretion, determined to keep silence unless circumstances should warrant their disclosure. it was not till i had reached home again and had jubilantly retailed the story to my father, that i began to understand how there might be yet another aspect to the matter. instead of receiving it with a hearty laugh and a "good for tom," as i had anticipated, he shook his head and said: "i'm sorry to hear it. tom made a mistake that time. that yetmore should be made to give up the barrel of oil is proper enough; but what right has tom to appropriate to himself the duties of judge, jury and executive officer? it is just such cases as this that earn for the american people the reputation of a nation without respect for law. no. tom meant well, i know, but in my opinion he made a mistake all the same." "i never thought of it in that light," said i; "so it is just as well, probably, that tom didn't let me into the secret beforehand, because i'm afraid i should have been only too ready to help if he had asked me." "yes, it is just as well you were not given the choice, i expect," replied my father, smiling. "i'm glad tom had the sense to take the whole responsibility on his own shoulders. does he expect that yetmore will be content to let the matter rest where it is?" "he seems to think so; though he is such a heedless fellow that it wouldn't bother him much if he thought otherwise." "well, in my opinion he will do well to keep his eyes open. as i told you before, i think yetmore's natural caution would prompt him to keep within the law, but it is not impossible now, tom having set him the example--for one such transgression of the law is apt to breed another--that he will think himself justified in resorting to lawless measures in his turn; especially as he will have that fellow, long john, jogging his elbow and whispering evil counsels in his ear all the time." how correct my father was in his presumption; how long john did devise a scheme of retaliation; and how joe and i inadvertently got our fingers into the pie, i shall have to relate in due course. but though my father disapproved of tom's action, that fact did not lessen his desire to help his friend when i had related to him how tom had indeed spent all his savings on mrs. murphy and her family. "what a good-hearted, harum-scarum fellow he is!" exclaimed my father. "he knows--in fact, no one knows better--that there is a possible fortune waiting for him somewhere up here on lincoln; he saves up all winter so that he may be free to go and hunt for it in the spring; yet at the first note of distress, away he runs and tumbles all his savings into mrs. murphy's lap, who, when all is said and done, has no real claim upon him, thus taking the risk of being stranded in town while long john goes off and cuts him out. what are we going to do about it, boys? what can you suggest?" "it would certainly be a shame," said joe, "if tom, by his act of charity, should put himself out of the running in the search for that vein of galena. yet he will surely do so if he can't raise that money. and even if he should raise it, he might be late in getting it, in which case long john would get the start of him." "that's the case in a nutshell," my father assented; "and, as i said before: what are we going to do about it?" "why----" joe began; and then he suddenly jumped up and coming across the room he whispered something in my ear. i replied with a nod; whereupon joe returned to his chair, and addressing my father once more, said: "i'll tell you what we'll do, mr. crawford. phil and i made forty dollars last fall cutting timbers--it was tom who got us our order, too--and we have it still. we'll put that in--eh, phil?--if it will be any use." "yes," said i. "gladly." "good!" exclaimed my father. "then that settles it. now, _i'll_ tell you what we'll do. i'll add sixty dollars to it--that is all i can afford just now--and you two shall ride back to sulphide this afternoon, give tom the money, and tell him he shall have fifty more in a couple of months if he needs it. and tell him at the same time that he needn't go mortgaging his little house. we don't want security from tom connor: we know him too well. i'd rather have his word than some men's bond. you shall ride up to see him this afternoon, and you needn't hurry back to-day; for that rain of last night has made the ground too wet to continue plowing; and, if i'm not mistaken, we're in for another storm to-night, in which case the soil won't be in condition again for two or three days." i need hardly say that joe and i were delighted to undertake this mission, and about four o'clock we reached mrs. appleby's, where we put up our ponies in her stable. then, as tom would not be quitting work for another hour, instead of going direct to his house, we climbed up to the pelican, intending to catch him there and walk home with him. presently arriving at the great white dump of bleached porphyry to which the citizens of sulphide were accustomed to point with pride as an indication of the immense amount of work it had taken to make the pelican the important mine it was, we scrambled up to the engine-house, where for some minutes we stood watching the busy engine as it whirled to the surface the buckets of waste. then, stepping over to the mouth of the shaft, we paused again to watch the top-men as they emptied the big buckets into the car and trundled the car itself to the edge of the dump, upset it, and trundled it back again for more. as we stood there, a miner came up, and stepping out of the cage, nodded to us in passing. "want anybody, boys?" he asked. "we're waiting for tom connor," i replied. "he's down below, isn't he?" "yes, he's down in the fifth. i'll take you down there if you like. i'm going back in a minute." "what do you think, joe?" i asked. "yes, let's go," my companion replied. "i've never been inside a mine, and i should like to see one." "all right," said the miner. "come over here to the dressing-room and i'll give you a lamp and a couple of slickers. it's a bit wet down there." joe and i were soon provided with water-proof coats, and in company with our new friend we stepped into the cage, when the miner, shutting the door behind us, called out to the engineer, "fifth level, mcpherson," and instantly the floor of the cage seemed to drop from under us. after a fall of several miles, as it appeared to us, the cage stopped, when, peering through the wire lattice-work, we saw before us a dark passage, upon one side of which hung a white board with a big " " painted upon it. "here you are," said the miner, stepping out of the cage and handing us a lighted lamp. "just walk straight along this drift about three hundred feet--it's all plain sailing--and you'll find tom connor at work there. i'm going on down to the seventh myself." with that he stepped back into the cage, rang the bell, and vanished, leaving us standing there eyeing each other a little dubiously at finding ourselves left to our own guidance, four hundred feet below the surface of the earth. "i hadn't reckoned on that," said i. "i thought he was coming with us." "so did i," replied joe. "but it doesn't really matter. all we have to do is to walk along this passage; so let's go ahead." that our obliging friend had been right when he stated that it was "a bit wet" down here was evident, for the drops of water from the roof of the drift kept pattering upon our slickers, and presently, when we had advanced something over half the distance, one of them fell plump upon the flame of our lamp and put it out! we stopped short, not knowing what pitfalls there might be ahead of us, and each felt in all his pockets for a match. we had none! never anticipating any such contingency as this, we had ventured into this black hole without a match in our possession. i admit that we were scared--the darkness was so very dark and the silence so very silent--but fortunately it was only for a moment. standing stock still, for, indeed, we dared not move, we shouted for tom, when, to our infinite relief, we heard his familiar voice call out: "hallo, there! that you, patsy? i'm coming. does the boss want me?" the next moment a light appeared moving towards us, and as soon as we could safely do so we advanced to meet it. "how are you, tom?" we both cried, simultaneously, assuming an off-hand manner, as though we had not been scared a bit. tom stopped, not recognizing us for a moment, and then exclaimed: "hallo, boys! what are you doing down here? who brought you down?" we told him how we came to be there, and how our lamp had gone out; at which tom shook his head. "well, it was certainly a smart trick to send you down into this wet hole and not even see that you had a match in your pocket. what would you have done if i'd happened to have left the drift?" the very idea gave me cold chills all down my back. "we should have been badly scared, tom, and that's a fact," i replied; "but i hope we should have kept our heads. i believe we should have sat down where we were and shouted till somebody came." "well, that would have been the best thing you could do, though you might have had to shout a pretty long time, for there is nobody working in this level just now but me, and, as a matter of fact, i should have left it myself in another five minutes. but it's all right as it happens; so now you can come along with me. i'm going out the other way through yetmore's ground." "yetmore's ground?" exclaimed joe, inquiringly. "yes, yetmore is working the old stopes of the pelican on a lease--it is one of his many ventures. in the early days of the camp mining was conducted much more carelessly than it is now; freight and smelter charges were a good bit higher, too, so that a considerable amount of ore of too low grade to ship then was left standing in the stopes. yetmore is taking it out on shares. his ground lies this way. come on." so saying, tom led the way to the end of the drift, where, going down upon his hands and knees, he crawled through a man-hole, coming out into a little shaft which he called a "winze." ascending this by a short ladder, we found ourselves in the old, abandoned workings, and still following our guide, we presently walked out into the daylight--greatly to our surprise. "why, where have we got to, tom?" cried joe, as we stared about us, not recognizing our surroundings. tom laughed. "this is called stony gulch," he replied. "the mine used to be worked through this tunnel where we just came out, but the tunnel isn't used now except temporarily by yetmore's men. he only runs a day shift and at night he closes the place with that big door and locks it up. the pelican buildings are just over the hill here, and we may as well go up at once: it will be quitting-time by the time we get there." we climbed over the hill, therefore, and having restored our slickers, went on with tom down to his little cottage, which was only about a quarter of a mile from the mine. it was not until we were inside his house that we explained to tom the object of our visit, at the same time handing over to him my father's check for one hundred dollars. the good fellow was quite touched by this very simple token of good-will on our part; for, though he was ever ready to help others, it seemed never to have occurred to him that others might like sometimes to help him. this little bit of business being settled, we all pitched in to assist in getting supper ready, and presently we were seated round tom's table testing the result of our cookery. as we sat there, joe, pointing to a window-sash and some planed and fitted lumber which stood leaning against the wall, asked: "what are you going to do with that, tom? put in a second window?" "yes," replied our host. "and i was intending to do it this evening. you can help me now you're here. the stuff is all ready; all we have to do is to cut the hole in the wall and slap it in. it's just one sash, not intended to open and shut, so it's a simple job enough." "where does it go?" asked joe. "there, on the right-hand side of the door. old man snyder, in the next house west, put one in some time ago, and it's such an improvement that i decided to do the same. we'll step out presently and look at snyder's, and then you'll see. hallo! come in!" this shout was occasioned by a tapping at the door, and in response to tom's call there stepped in a tall miner, whom i recognized as george simpson, one of the pelican men. "come in, george," cried our host. "come in and have some supper. what's new?" "no, i won't take any supper, thank ye," replied the miner. "i must get along home. i just dropped in to speak to you. you know arty burns?--works on the night shift? well, arty's sick. when he came up to the mine to-night he was too sick to stand, so i packed him off home again and told him to go to bed where he belonged and i'd see to it that somebody went on in his place, so that he shouldn't lose his job. i'm proposing to work half his shift for him myself, and i want to find somebody----" "all right, george," connor cut in. "i'll take the other half. which do you want? first or second?" "second, if it's all the same to you, tom. if i don't get home first my old woman will think there's something the matter. so, if you don't mind, you can go on first and i'll relieve you at half-time." "all right, george, then i'll get out at once. you boys can wash up, if you will; and you'll find a mattress and plenty of blankets in the back room. i'll be back soon after eleven." with that, carrying a lantern in his hand, for it was getting dark, away he went; while the miner hurried off across lots for town; neither of them, apparently, thinking it anything out of the way to do a full day's work and then, instead of taking his well-earned rest, to go off and do another half-day's work in order to "hold the job" for a third man, to whom neither of them was under any obligation. nor _was_ it anything out of the way; for the silver-miners of colorado, whatever their faults, did in those days, and probably do still, exercise towards their fellows a practical charity which might well be counted to cover a multitude of sins. "look here, phil!" exclaimed my companion, after we had washed and put away the dishes. "i'll tell you what we'll do. let's pitch in and put in tom's second window for him!" "good idea!" i cried. "we'll do it! let's go out first, though, joe, and take a look at old snyder's house, so that we may see what effect tom expects to get." "come on, then!" the row of six little houses, of which tom's was the third, counting from the west, had been one of yetmore's speculations. they were situated on the southern outskirts of town, and were mostly occupied by miners working on the pelican. each house was an exact counterpart of every other, they having been built by contract all on one pattern. each had a room in front and a room behind; one little brick chimney; a front door with two steps; and a window on the right-hand side of the door as you faced the house. all were painted the same color. yetmore having secured the land, had laid it out as "yetmore's addition" to the town of sulphide; had marked out streets and alleys, and had built the six houses as a starter, hoping thereby to draw people out there. but as yet his building-lots were a drug in the market: they were too far out; there being a vacant space of a quarter of a mile or thereabouts between them and the next nearest houses in town. the streets themselves were undistinguishable from the rest of the country, being merely marked out with stakes and having had no work whatever expended upon them. the six houses, built about three hundred feet apart, all faced north--towards the town--and being so far apart and all so precisely alike, it was absolutely impossible for any one coming from town on a dark night to tell which house was which. not even the tenants themselves, coming across the vacant lots after nightfall, could tell their own houses from those of their neighbors; and consequently it was a common event for one of the sleepy inmates, stirred out of bed by a knock at the door, to find a belated citizen outside inquiring whether this was his house or somebody else's. not infrequently they neglected to knock first, and walking straight in, found themselves, to their great embarrassment, in the wrong house. old man snyder, a somewhat irritable old gentleman, having been thus disturbed two nights in succession, determined that he would no longer subject himself to the nuisance. he bought a single sash and inserted a second window on the other side of his door; a device which not only saved him from intrusion, but served as a guide to his neighbors in finding their own houses. it was also a very obvious improvement, and we did not wonder that tom connor had determined to follow his neighbor's example. old snyder's house was the second from the western end of the street, tom connor's, three hundred feet distant, came next, while next to tom's, another three hundred feet away, was a house which still belonged to yetmore and was at that moment standing empty. you will wonder, very likely, why i should go into all these details, but you will cease to wonder, i think, when you see presently of what transcendent importance to joe and me was the situation of these three houses. joe and i, laying hands on our host's kit of tools, at once went to work on the window. as tom had said, it was a simple job, and though it was something of a handicap to work by lamplight, we went at it so vigorously that by nine o'clock we had completed our task--very much to our satisfaction. stepping outside to observe the effect, we saw that old snyder's windows were lighted up also; but we had hardly noted that fact when his light went out. "the old fellow goes to bed early, joe," said i. "yes," joe replied; and then, with a sudden laugh, added: "my wig, phil! i hope there won't be anybody coming out from town to-night. if they do, there'll be complications. they will surely be taking our two windows for old snyder's, for, now that his light is out, you can't see his house at all." "that's a fact," said i. "if snyder's right-hand neighbor should come out across the flats to-night he would see our two windows, and, supposing them to be snyder's windows, he would be almost sure to go blundering into the old fellow's house. my! how mad he would be!" "wouldn't he! and any one coming out to visit tom would pretty certainly go and pound on the door of the empty house to the left." "well, let us hope that nobody does come out," said i. "come on, now, joe. let's get back. it's going to rain pretty soon." "yes; your father was right when he predicted more rain. it's going to be a biggish one, i should think. how dark it is! i don't wonder people find a difficulty in telling which house is which when all the lights are out. here it comes now. step out, phil." as he spoke, a blast of wind from the mountains struck us, and a few needles of cold rain beat against our right cheeks. we were soon inside again, when, having shut our door, we sat down to a game of checkers, in which we became so absorbed that we failed to note the lapse of time until tom's dollar clock, hanging on the wall, banged out the hour of ten. "to bed, joe!" i cried, springing out of my chair. "why, we haven't been up so late for weeks." stepping into the back room, we soon had mattress and blankets spread upon the floor, when, quickly undressing, i crept into bed, while joe, returning to the front room, blew out the light. five minutes later we were both asleep, with a comfortable consciousness that we had done a good evening's work; though we little suspected how good an evening's work it really was. for it is hardly too much to say that had we _not_ put in tom's second window that night we might both have been dead before morning. chapter xii tom connor's scare when long john butterfield (it was yetmore himself who told us all this long afterwards) when long john, returning from his day's prospecting up among the foot-hills of mount lincoln, had related to his employer the result of his labors, two conclusions instantly presented themselves to the worthy mayor of sulphide. a man less acute than yetmore would have understood at once that we had discovered the nature of the black sand in the pool, and that just as he had sent out long john, so my father had sent out us boys to determine, if possible, which stream it was that had brought down the powdered galena. moreover, knowing my father as he did--whose opinions on prospecting as a business were no secret in the community--yetmore was sure that it was in the interest of tom connor we had been sent out; and it was equally plain to him that, such being the case, tom's information on the subject would be just as good as his own. he was, of course, unaware that our information was in reality a good deal better than his own, thanks to the hint given us by our friend, peter, as to the deposit at the head of big reuben's gorge. knowing all this, yetmore had no doubt that tom would be starting out the moment the foot-hills were bare, and as long john could do no more--for it was obviously useless to start before the ground was clear--it would result in a race between the two as to who should get out first and keep ahead of the other; in which case tom's chances would be at least equal to his competitor's. but was there no way by which tom connor might be delayed in starting, if only for a day or two? that was the question; and very earnestly it was discussed between the pair. vain, however, were their discussions; they could think of no way of keeping tom in town. for, though long john threw out occasional hints as to how _he_ would manage it, if his employer would only give him leave, his schemes always suggested the use of unlawful means of one sort or another, and yetmore would have none of them; for he had at least sufficient respect for the law to be afraid of it. a gleam of hope appeared when it was rumored about town that tom connor was trying to raise money on his house; a rumor which yetmore very quickly took pains to verify. in this he had no trouble whatever, for everybody knew the circumstances, and everybody, yetmore found, was loud in his praises of tom's self-sacrifice in spending his hard-earned savings for the benefit of mrs. murphy and her distressed family. the fact that his rival was out of funds caused yetmore to rub his hands with glee. here, indeed, was a possible chance to keep him tied up in town. it all depended upon his being able to prevent tom from securing the loan he sought, and diligently did the storekeeper canvass one plan after another in his own mind--but still in vain. the sum desired was so moderate that some one would almost surely be found to advance it. while his schemes were still fermenting in his head, there came late one night a knock at his door--it was the very night that tom connor went boring for oil--and long john butterfield slipped into the house. long john, too, had heard of tom's necessities; he, too, had perceived the value of the opportunity; and being untrammeled by any respect for law as long as there was little likelihood that the law would find him out, he had devised in his own mind a plan which would promptly and effectually prevent tom from raising any money on his house. [illustration: "'can folks see in from outside?'"] this plan he had now come to suggest to his employer. "any one in the house with you, mr. yetmore?" he inquired. "no, john, i'm all alone. come in. why do you ask?" "oh, i just wanted to talk to you, and i didn't want anybody listening, that's all. can folks see in from outside?" "no, not while the curtains are drawn. come on in. what's all this mystery about?" long john entered, and sitting down close to his friend, he began, speaking in a low tone: "you've heard about tom connor trying to raise money on his house, o' course? well, i can stop him, if you say so. any one can see what tom wants the money for. he'll get that hundred and fifty, sure, and then off he'll go. he's a thorough good prospector, better'n me, and with equal chances the betting will be in his favor. if there's a big vein, there's a big fortune for the finder, and it's for you to say whether tom connor is to get a shot at it or not." long john paused a moment, and then, emphasizing each point with an extended finger, he continued: "without money tom can't move--that's sure; he's strapped just now--that's sure; and his only way of getting the cash is by raising it on that house of his--and that's sure. now, mr. yetmore, you say the word and he shan't get it. no personal violence that you're always objecting to. just the simplest little move; nobody hurt and nobody the wiser." yetmore gazed at him earnestly for a few moments, and then said: "it's against the law, i suppose." "oh, yes," replied long john, with a careless shrug of his shoulders. "it's against the law all right; but what does that matter to you? i'm the one to do the job, and i'm the only one the law can touch, if it can touch any one; and i don't mean that it shall touch me. it's safe and it's sure." "well, john, what is it?" long john rose from his chair, leaned forward, and whispered in the other's ear a little sentence of five words. for a moment yetmore gazed open-eyed at his henchman, then suddenly turned pale, then shook his head. "i daren't, john," said he. "it's a simple plan and it looks safe; and even if it were found out it would be about impossible for the law to prove anything against me, whatever it might do to you. but it isn't the law i'm afraid of--it's the people. tom connor has always been a favorite, and just now he is more of a favorite than ever, and if it should be found out, or even suspected, that i had any part in such a deed my business would be ruined: the whole population would turn their backs upon me. i daren't do it, john." "well, boss," said long john, with an air of resignation, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and thrusting out his long legs to the fire, "if you won't, you won't, i suppose; but it seems to me you're a bit over-timorous. who's to suspect, anyhow?" "who's to suspect!" exclaimed yetmore, sharply. "why, tom connor, himself, and old crawford and those two meddling boys of his. they'd not only suspect--they'd know that you had done the job and that i'd paid you for it. and if they should go around telling their version of the story, everybody would believe them and nothing i could say would count against them; for they've all of them, worse luck, got the reputation of being as truthful as daylight, while, as for me----" long john laughed. "as for you, you haven't, eh? well, mr. yetmore, it's for you to say, of course, but it seems to me you're missing the chance of a lifetime. anyhow, my offer stands good, and if you change your mind you've only got to wink at me and i'll trump tom connor's ace for him so sudden he'll be dizzy for a week." with that, long john arose, slipped out of the house and sneaked off home by a back alley, leaving yetmore pacing up and down his room with his hands behind him, thinking over and over again what would be the result if he should authorize long john to go ahead. "no," said he at last, as he took up the lamp to go to bed, "i daren't. it's a good idea, simple, sure and probably safe, but i daren't risk it. no. law or no law, the public would be down on me for certain. i must think up some other scheme." though he thus dismissed the subject from his mind, as he believed, the idea still lurked in the corners of his brain in spite of himself, and when at six in the morning he awoke, there was the little black imp sitting on the pillow, as it were, waiting to go on with the discussion. yetmore, however, brushed aside the tempter, jumped into his clothes and walked off to the store, where he found the putty-faced boy anxiously awaiting his appearance in order that he himself might be off to his breakfast. "pht!" exclaimed the proprietor, the moment he set foot inside the store. "what's this smell of coal oil?" "i don't smell it," replied the boy. "you don't! hm! i suppose you've got used to it. well, get along to your breakfast." as the boy ran off, yetmore walked to the back of the building. here the scent was so strong that he was convinced the barrel must be leaking, so, seizing hold of it, he gave a mighty heave, when the empty barrel came away in his hands, as the saying is. he almost fell over. to ascertain the nature of the leak was the work of a moment; to trail the sled to mrs. appleby's back yard was the work of five minutes; but having done this, yetmore was at fault, for, knowing well enough that neither the widow nor her son were capable of such an undertaking, he was at a loss to imagine who the culprit might be. it was only when tom connor a minute later stepped into the store and arranged that story of the leaky oil-barrel which he had described as being "agreeable" to yetmore, that the storekeeper arrived at a true understanding of the whole matter. to say that he was enraged would be to put it too mildly, and, as always seems to be the case, the fact that he, himself, had been in the wrong to begin with, only exasperated him the more. the result was what any one might have expected. hardly had connor turned the corner out of sight, than there appeared, "snooping" up the street, that sheep in wolfs clothing, long john butterfield. instantly yetmore's resolution was taken. seizing a broom, he stepped outside and made pretense to sweep the sidewalk, and as long john, with a casual nod, sauntered past, the angry storekeeper caught his eye and whispered: "i've reconsidered. go ahead." "bully for you," replied the other in a low tone; and passed on. no one would have guessed that in that brief instant a criminal act had been arranged. nor did tom connor, as he went chuckling up the street, guess that by his lawless recovery of the widow's property he had given yetmore the excuse he longed for to defy the law himself. least of all did any of them--not even long john--guess that between them they were to come within an ace of snuffing out the lives of two innocent outsiders, namely, joe garnier and myself. yet such was the case. it was only the accidental putting in of tom's second window that saved us. long john, being authorized to proceed, at once made his preparations, which were simple enough, and all he wanted now was an opportunity. by an unlooked-for chance, which, with his perverted sense of right and wrong, seemed to him to be providential, his opportunity turned up that very night. the miner, george simpson, hastening homeward from connor's house, happened to overtake long john in the street, and as he passed gave him a friendly "good-night." "good-night," said john. "you're late to-night, aren't you?" "yes, a bit late. one of our men's sick, and i've been fixing things so's he won't lose his job. tom connor and i are going to work his shift for him." "so!" cried long john, with sudden interest. "which half do you take?" "the second. tom's gone off already, and i'm going to relieve him at eleven. so i must be getting along: i want my supper and two or three hours' sleep." so tom would be out of his house till eleven o'clock! such a chance might never occur again. long john hastened home at once and got everything ready. as it would not do to start too early, because people might be about, john waited till nearly ten o'clock, and then sallied out. as he rounded the corner of his shack a furious blast of wind, driving the rain before it, almost knocked him over. "good!" he exclaimed. "there won't be a soul out o' doors to-night." with his head bent to the storm and his hat pulled down over his ears, john made his way through alleys and bye-streets to the edge of town, and then set off across the intervening empty space towards the house where joe and i were at that moment playing our last game of checkers. as he approached, he saw dimly through the blur of rain the light of two windows. "good!" he exclaimed a second time. "old snyder not gone to bed yet. mighty kind of the old gent to leave his light burning for me to steer by. if it hadn't been for him i'd 'a' had a job to tell which was the right house. as it is, i've borne more to the right than i thought." at this moment the town clock struck ten, and almost immediately afterwards the light in the windows went out. "never mind," remarked john to himself. "i know where i am now." advancing a little further, he caught sight of the dim outline of the house through the rain, and turning short to his left, he measured off one hundred steps along the empty street, a distance which brought him opposite the next house to the east. all was dark and silent, as he had expected, but to make sure he approached the house and thumped upon the door. there was no reply. again he thumped and struck the door sharply with the handle of his knife. silence! "he's out all right," muttered john. "was there ever such a lucky chance? howling wind, driving rain, dark as the ace of spades, and tom connor not coming back for an hour!" dark it surely was. the night was black. not a glimmer of light in any direction. even the town itself, only a quarter-mile away, seemed to have been blotted from the face of the earth. as he had noticed in coming across the flats that there were lights still burning in two of the other houses, the patient plotter, in order to give the inmates a chance to get to bed and to sleep, sat waiting on the leeward side of the building for a full half hour. at the end of that time, however, he arose, moved along a few steps, and then, going down on his hands and knees, crept under the house. ten minutes later he came crawling out again, feet foremost. once outside, he struck a match, and sheltering it in his cupped hands he applied the flame to the end of something which looked like a long, stiff cord about as thick as a lead pencil. presently there was a sharp "spit" from the ignited "cord," blowing out the match and causing john to shake his hand with a gesture of pain, as though it had been scorched. next moment long john sprang to his feet and fled away into the darkness; not straight across lots as he had come, but by a roundabout way which would bring him into town from the eastern side. then, for two minutes, except for the roaring of the wind, all was silence. joe and i were sound asleep on the floor of tom's back room, when by a single impulse we both sprang out of bed with an irrepressible cry of alarm, and stood for a moment trembling and clinging to each other in the darkness. the sound of a frightful explosion was ringing in our ears! "what was it, joe?" i cried. "which direction?" "i don't know," my companion replied. "i hope it isn't an accident up at the pelican. let's get into our clothes, phil." lighting the lamp, we quickly dressed, and putting on our hats and overcoats we went out into the storm. all was dark, except that in the windows of each of the occupied houses in the row we could see a light shining. the whole street had been roused up. "it must have been a powder-magazine," joe shouted in my ear. "or else the boiler in the engine-house of the pelican. what do you say, phil? shall we go up there? we might be able to help." "yes, come on!" i cried. "let's go and see first, though, if tom hasn't a second lantern. we shall save time by it if he has." our hurried search for a lantern was vain, however, so we determined to set off without one. as we closed the door behind us, our clock struck eleven, and a moment later we heard faintly the eleven o'clock whistle up at the pelican. "good!" cried joe. "it isn't the boiler blown up, anyhow, so tom's safe; for he is working underground and the explosion, whatever it was, was on the surface." with bent heads we pushed our way against the wind, until, looking up presently, i saw the light of a lantern coming quickly towards us. "here's tom, joe," i shouted. "pull up!" we stopped, and as the light swiftly approached we detected the beating footsteps of a man running furiously. "then there is an accident!" cried joe. "ho, tom! that you?" he shouted. it was tom, who, suddenly stopping, held the lantern high, looking first at one and then at the other of us. he was still in his miner's cap and slicker, his face was as white as a ghost's, and he was so out of breath that for a moment he could not speak. "hurt, tom?" i cried, in alarm. "no,"--with a gasp. "anybody hurt?" "no." "what is it, then?" "scared!" and then, still panting violently: "come to the house," said he. once inside, i brought tom a dipper of water, which quickly restored him, when, turning his still blanched face towards us, he said: "boys, i've had the worst scare of my life!" "how, tom?" i asked. "that explosion? was it up at the pelican?" "no, it wasn't; and i didn't know anything about it until i came up at eleven, when george, who was waiting to go on, told me there had been a heavy explosion down in the direction of my house. when he told me that, there rushed into my head all of a sudden an idea which nearly knocked me over--it was like a blow from a hammer. i grabbed the lantern, which i had just lighted, and ran for it. can you guess what i expected to find?" we shook our heads. "i expected to find my house blown to pieces, and you two boys lying dead out in the rain!" we stared at him in amazement. "what do you mean?" i asked. "look here, boys," tom went on. "when george simpson told me there had been an explosion down this way, it came into my head all at once that yetmore or long john--probably long john--had heard that i was out at work to-night, and not knowing that you were staying the night with me, had come and wrecked my house." "but why should they?" joe asked. "so as to prevent my raising money on it, and so keep me tied up in town while they skipped out to look for that vein of galena. i'm glad to find i was wrong. i did 'em an in----" he stopped short, and following his gaze, we saw that he was staring at the second window. "when did you put that in?" he cried. "just after you left. we finished by nine o'clock." "how soon did you go to bed?" "just after ten." "come with me!" cried tom, springing from his chair and seizing the lantern. "i know what's happened now!" with us two close at his heels, he led the way to the spot where yetmore's empty house had stood. not a vestige of it remained, except the upper part of the chimney, which lay prone in the great hole dug out by the violence of the explosion. "boys," said tom, in a tone of unusual gravity, "if you live a hundred years you'll never have a narrower squeak than you've had to-night. if long john did this--and i'm pretty sure he did--he meant to blow up my house, but being misled by those two windows, he has blown up yetmore's house instead. you never did, and i doubt if you ever will do, a better stroke of work in your lives than when you put in my second window!" chapter xiii the ore-theft at half past five next morning joe and i slipped out of bed, leaving tom connor, who had to go to work again at seven, still fast asleep. while joe quietly prepared breakfast, i went out to examine by daylight the scene of last night's explosion. the first discovery i made was the imprint in the mud of footsteps, half obliterated by the rain. the tracks were very large and very far apart, proving that the owner of the boots that made them was a big man, and that he had gone off at a great pace; a discovery which tended to confirm in my mind tom's guess that it was indeed long john who had done the mischief. at this moment the tenant of the house next to the east came out--hughy hughes was his name; a welshman--and as he walked towards me i saw him stoop to pick up something. "that was a rascally piece of work, wasn't it?" said he, as he joined me. "scared us 'most to death, it did. see, here's the fuse he used. i just picked it up; fifteen feet of it. wonder who the fellow was. pretty state of things when folks take to blowing up each other's houses. like enough yetmore has his enemies, but it's a pretty mean enemy as 'd try to get even by any such scalawag trick as this." this speech enlightened me as to what would be the general theory regarding the outrage. it would be set down as an act of revenge on the part of some enemy of yetmore's; and so tom and joe thought, too, when i went back to the house and told them about it. "that'll be the theory, all right," said tom. "and as far as i see, we may as well let it go at that. we have no evidence to present, and it would look rather like malice on our part if we were to charge long john with blowing his best friend's house to pieces just because we happen to suspect him of it. and so, i guess, boys, we may as well lay low for the present: we shan't do any good by putting forward our own theories. "i dare say," he went on, after a moment's reflection, "i dare say, if we were to go around telling what we thought and why we thought it, we might influence public opinion; but, when you come to think of it, we have no real proof; so we'll just hold our tongues. are you in a hurry to get home?" "no," i replied. "we shan't be able to plow for two days at the very least, so there is nothing to hurry home for." "well, then," said tom, "i'll tell you what i wish you'd do. i must go back to work in a few minutes, but i wish you two would go down town and hear what folks have to say about this business, and then come back here and have dinner with me at twelve. will you?" "all right," said i. "we'll do that." we found the town in a great state of excitement. everybody was talking about the explosion, which, as the newspaper said, "would cast a blight upon the fair fame of sulphide." yetmore's store was crowded with people, shaking hands with him and expressing their indignation at the outrage; the universal opinion being, as we had anticipated, that some miscreant had done it out of revenge. joe and i, squeezing in with the rest, presently found ourselves near the counter, when yetmore, catching my eye, nodded to me and said: "how are you, phil? i didn't know you were in town." "yes," said i, "we came in last evening and spent the night in tom connor's house." yetmore started and turned pale. "in tom connor's house?" he repeated, huskily. "yes," i replied. "we were asleep in his back room when that explosion woke us up." at this yetmore stared at me for a moment, and then, as he realized how narrowly he had missed being party to a murder, he turned a dreadful white color, staggered, and i believe might have fallen had he not sat himself down quickly upon a sack of potatoes. a draft of water soon brought back his color, when, addressing the sympathizing crowd, yetmore said: "it made me feel a bit sick to think what chances these boys ran last night. every one knows how hard it is to tell those houses apart; and that fellow might easily have made a mistake and blown up tom connor's house on one side or hughy hughes' on the other." "yes," said i; "and all the more so as joe and i last evening put a second window into tom's house, so that any one coming across lots after dark might just as well have taken tom's house for old snyder's." "phew!" whistled one of the men in the crowd. "then it's hughy hughes that's to be congratulated. if that rascal _had_ made such a mistake, and had chosen the second house from tom's instead of the second house from snyder's we'd have been making arrangements for six funerals about now. hughy has four children, hasn't he?" i could not help feeling sorry for yetmore. convinced as i was that he had at least connived in a plot to destroy tom's house, i felt sure that he had been far from intending personal injury to any one; and i felt sure, too, that he was thoroughly sincere, when, rising from his seat and addressing the assemblage, he said: "men, i'm sorry to lose my house, of course--that goes without saying--but when i think of what might have happened it doesn't trouble me that much"--snapping his finger and thumb. "i tell you, men, i'm downright thankful it was _my_ house that was blown up and nobody else's." as he said this he looked at joe and me, and i felt convinced that it was to us and not to the assembled throng that he addressed his remark. the people, however, not knowing what we did, loudly applauded the magnanimity of the sentiment, and many of them pressed forward to shake hands again. yetmore had never been so popular as he was at that moment. everybody sympathized with him over his loss; everybody admired the dignified way in which he accepted it; and everybody would have been delighted to hear that some compensating piece of good fortune had befallen him. strange to say, at that very moment that very thing happened. suddenly we were all attracted by a distant shouting up the street. looking through the front window, we saw that all the people outside had turned and were gazing in that direction. by one impulse everybody in the store surged out through the doorways, when we saw, still some distance away, a man running down the middle of the street, waving his cap and shouting some words we could not distinguish. we were all on tiptoe with expectation. at length the man approached, broke through the group, ran up to yetmore, who was standing on his door-step, shook hands with him, and then turning round, he shouted out: "great strike in the pelican, boys! in the old workings above the fifth--yetmore's lease. one of those pockets of tellurium that's never been known to run less than twenty thousand to the ton. hooray for yetmore!" the shout that went up was genuinely hearty. once more the mayor was mobbed by his enthusiastic fellow citizens and once more he shook hands till his arm ached--during which proceeding joe and i slipped away. we had not gone far when i heard my name called, and turning round i saw a man on horseback who handed me a letter. "i've just come up through your place," said he, "and your father asked me to give you this if i should see you." the note was to the effect that the rain had been heavy on the ranch, no plowing was possible, and so we were to stay in town that day and come down on the morrow after the mail from the south came in, as he was expecting an important letter, and it would thus save another trip up and down. we were glad enough to do this, so, making our way up the street past the knots of people, all talking over and over again the two exciting topics of the day, we retraced our steps to tom's house, where we got ready the dinner against tom's return. shortly after twelve he came in, when we related to him what we had learned in town; demanding in our turn particulars of the great strike. "it's a rich strike, all right," said tom, "but there isn't much of it--about five hundred pounds--just a pocket, and not a very large one. but it is very rich stuff, carrying over three thousand ounces of silver and a thousand of gold to the ton. the five hundred pounds should be worth ten or twelve dollars a pound. they've found the same stuff several times before in the pelican, always unexpectedly and always in pockets." "then," remarked joe, "yetmore will have made, perhaps, six thousand dollars this morning." "no, no," said tom; "he won't have done anything of the sort; though i don't wonder you should think so after the way the people have been carrying on down town. they've just been led away by their enthusiasm. most of 'em know the terms of yetmore's lease well enough, but they have forgotten them for the moment. yetmore pays the company a certain percentage of all the ore he gets out, and it is specially provided in the lease that should he come upon any of the well-known tellurium ore, the company is to have three-fifths of the proceeds and yetmore only two-fifths. he'll make a good thing out of it though, anyway." "you say there's about five hundred pounds of the ore: have they taken it all out already?" asked joe. "yes, taken it out, sorted it, sacked it in little fifty-pound sacks, sewed up the sacks and piled them in one of the drifts, all ready to ship down to san remo to-morrow by express." "why do they leave it in the mine?" i asked. "is it safer than taking it down to the express office?" "yes: it would be pretty difficult to steal it out of the mine, with all the lights going and all the miners about, whereas, if it was just stacked in the express office, somebody might----" "somebody might cut a hole in the floor and drop it through," remarked joe, laughing. "that's so," said tom, adding, "i tell you what it is, boys: i begin to think i wasn't quite so smart as i thought i was when i got back that coal oil for the widow. i wouldn't wonder a particle if it wasn't just that that decided yetmore to come and blow my house to smithereens." "i shouldn't either," said joe. tom having departed to his work again, joe and i once more went into town, where we spent the time going about, listening to the talk of the people, who were still standing in groups on the street corners, discussing the great events of the day. but if the people were excited, as they certainly were, their excitement was a mere flutter in comparison with the storm which swept over the community next morning. the ten sacks of high-grade ore had been stolen during the night! the news came down about eight o'clock in the morning, when, at once, and with one accord, all the men in the place who could get away swarmed up to the pelican--we among them. the thief, whoever he was, was evidently familiar with the workings of the mine, for, going round into stony gulch, he had forced the door at the exit of the old tunnel, cutting out the staple with auger and saw, and then, clambering through the disused, waste-encumbered drifts, he had carried out the little sacks one by one and made away with them somehow. wrapping his feet in old rags in order to disguise his foot-prints, he had taken the sacks of ore across the gulch to the stony ground beyond, where his boots would leave no impression, and there all trace of him was lost. whether he had buried the sacks somewhere near by, or, if not, how he had managed to spirit them away, were matters of general speculation; though to most minds the question was settled when one of yetmore's clerks came hastily up to the mine and called out that the roan pony and the two-wheeled delivery cart, used to carry packages up to the mines, were missing. the thief, seemingly, had not only stolen yetmore's ore, but had borrowed yetmore's horse and cart to convey it away. if this were true, it proved that the thief must have an intimate knowledge of the country, for, in spite of the heavy rain of the night before, not a sign of a wheel-mark was there to be found: the cart had been conducted over the rocks with such skill as to leave no trace whatever. cart, pony, ore and thief had vanished as completely as though the earth had opened and swallowed them. at first everybody sympathized with yetmore over his loss, but presently an ugly rumor began to get about when people bethought them of the terms of the lease. those who did not like the storekeeper, and they were not a few, began to pull long faces, nudge each other with their elbows, and whisper together that perhaps yetmore knew more of this matter than he pretended. joe and i were at a loss to understand what they were driving at, until one man, more malicious or less discreet than the others, spoke up. "how are we to know," said he, "that yetmore didn't steal this ore himself? three-fifths of it belongs to the company--he'd make a mighty good thing by it. i'm not saying he did do it, but----" he ended with a closing of one eye and a sideways jerk of his head more expressive than words. "oh, that's ridiculous!" joe blurted out. "yetmore isn't over-scrupulous, i dare say, but he's a long way from being a fool, and he'd never make such a blunder as to steal the ore and then use his own horse and cart to carry it off." "well, i don't know," said the man. "it might be just a trick of his to put folks off the scent." and though joe and i, for our part, felt sure that yetmore had had nothing to do with it, we found that many people shared this man's suspicions; the consequence being that the mayor's popularity of the day before waned again as suddenly as it had arisen. in the midst of this excitement the mail-coach from the south came in, when joe and i, carrying with us the expected letter for my father, set off home again; little suspecting--as how should we suspect--that the ore-thief, whoever he might be, was about to render us a service of greater value by far than the ore and the cart and the pony combined. we were jogging along on the homeward road, and were just rounding the spur of elkhorn mountain which divided our valley from sulphide, when joe suddenly laid his hand on my arm and cried: "pull up, phil. stop a minute." "what's the matter?" i asked. "get down and come back a few steps," joe answered; and on my joining him, he pointed out to me in a sandy patch at the mouth of a steep draw coming in from the left, some deeply-indented wheel-marks. "well, what of that, joe?" said i, laughing. "are you thinking you've found the trail of the ore-thief?" "no," joe replied, "i'm not jumping at any such conclusion; but, at the same time, it's possible. if the ore-thief started northward from the pelican, and the chances are he did, for we know he carried the sacks across to the north side of stony gulch, this would be the natural place for him to come down into the road; for it is plain to any one that he could never get a loaded cart--or an empty one either, for that matter--over the rocky ridge which crowns this spur. if he was making his way north, he had to get into the road sooner or later, and this gully was his last chance to come down." "that's true," i assented; "and this cart--it's a two-wheeler, you see--was heavily loaded. look how it cuts into the sand." "yes," said joe; "and it was drawn by one smallish horse, led by a man; a big man, too: look at his tracks." "but the ore-thief, joe, had his feet wrapped up in rags, and these are the marks of a number twelve boot." "well, you don't suppose the thief would walk over this rough mountain with his feet wrapped up in rags, do you? in the dark, too. they'd be catching against everything. no; he would take off the rags as soon as he reached hard ground and throw them into the cart; for it is not to be expected either that he would leave them lying on his trail to show people which way he had gone." "no, of course not. but which way did he go, joe; across the road or down it?" "down it. see. the wheel-tracks bear to the left. and if you want evidence that he came down in the dark, here you are. look how one wheel skidded over this half-buried, water-worn boulder and slid off and scraped the spokes against this projecting rock. look at the blue paint it left on the rock." "blue paint!" i cried. "joe, yetmore's cart was painted blue! i remember it very well. a very strongly-built cart, as it had to be to scramble up those rough roads that lead to the mines, painted blue with black trimmings. joe, i begin to believe this is the ore-thief, after all." "it does look like it. but where was he going? not down to the smelter at san remo, surely." "not he," i replied. "he would know better than that. the smelter has undoubtedly been notified of the robbery by this time, and the character of the pelican tellurium is so well known that any one offering any of it for sale would have to give a very clear story as to how he came by it. no; this fellow will have to hide or bury the ore and leave it lying till he thinks the robbery is forgotten; and even then he will probably have to dispose of it at a distance in small lots or broken up very fine and mixed with other ore." "in that case," said joe, "we shall find his trail leaving the road again on one side or the other." "i expect so. we'll keep a lookout. but come on, now, joe: we mustn't delay any longer." the road had been traveled over by several vehicles since last night, and the trail of the cart was undistinguishable with any certainty until we had passed the point where the highway branched off to the right to go down to san remo; after which it appeared again, apparently headed straight for the ranch. "do you suppose he can have crossed our valley, phil?" asked my companion. "no, i expect not," i replied. "keep your eyes open; we shall find the tracks going off to one side or the other pretty soon--to the left most likely, for the best hiding-places would be up in the mountains." sure enough, after traversing a bare, rocky stretch of road, we found that the tracks no longer showed ahead of us. the man had taken advantage of the hard ground to turn off. pulling up our ponies, we both jumped to the ground once more, and going back a short distance, we made a cast on the western side of the road. in a few minutes joe called out: "here we are, phil! see! the wheel touched the edge of this little sandy spot, and if you look ahead about forty yards you'll see where it ran over an ant-hill. it seems as though he were heading for our cañon. do you think that's likely?" "yes," i replied. "i think it is very likely. there is one place where he can get down, you remember, and then, by following up the bed of the stream for a short distance he will come to a draw which will lead him to the top of the second mesa--just the place he would make for. for, to any one knowing the country, as he evidently does, there would be a thousand good hiding-places in which to stow away ten small sacks of ore--you might search for years and not find them." "yes," said joe. "but there's the horse and cart, phil. how will he dispose of them?" "oh, that will be easy enough. he would tumble the cart into some cañon, perhaps, turn loose the horse, and be back in sulphide before morning. but come on, joe. we really mustn't waste any more time; it's getting on for six now." it was fortunate we did not delay any longer, for we found my father anxiously pacing up and down the room, wondering what was keeping us. without heeding our explanation at the moment, he hastily tore open the letter we had brought, read it through, and then stepping to the foot of the stairs, called out: "get your things on, mother. we must start at once. the train leaves at seven forty-five. there's no time to lose." turning to us, he went on: "boys, i have to go to denver. i may be gone five or six days--can't tell how long. i leave you in charge. if you can get at the plowing, go ahead; but i'm afraid you won't have the chance. if i'm not mistaken, there's another rain coming--wettest season i remember. joe, run out and hitch up the big bay to the buckboard. phil, you will have to drive down to san remo with us and bring back the rig. go in and get some supper now; it's all ready on the table." in ten minutes we were off, i sitting on a little trunk at the back of the carriage, explaining to my father over his shoulder as we drove along the events of the last two days, and how it was we had taken so much time coming down from sulphide. "it certainly does look as though the thief had come down this way," said he; "and though we are not personally concerned in the matter, i think one of you ought to ride up to sulphide again on monday and give your information. hunt up tom connor and tell him. and i believe"--he paused to consider--"yes, i believe i would tell yetmore, too. i'm sure he is not concerned in this robbery; and i'm even more sure that if he was a party to the blowing up of that house, he never intended any harm to you. yes, i think i'd tell yetmore. it will prove to him that we bear him no ill-will, and may have a good effect." having seen them off on the train, i turned homeward again, going slowly, for the clouds were low and it was very dark. the consequence was that it was nearly ten by the time i reached the ranch, and before i did so the rain was coming down hard once more. "wet night, joe," said i, as i pulled off my overcoat. "no plowing for a week, i'm afraid." "i expect not," replied my companion. "it isn't often we have to complain of too much rain in colorado, but we are certainly getting an over supply just now. there's one man, though, who'll be glad of it." "who's that?" "that ore-thief. it will wash out his tracks completely." chapter xiv the snow-slide the rain, which continued pretty steadily all day, sunday, had ceased before the following morning, when, looking through the rifts in the clouds to the west we could see that a quantity of new snow had fallen on the mountains. "there'll be no trouble about water for irrigating this year, joe," said i, as i returned from the stable after feeding the horses. "there's more snow up there, i believe, than i've ever seen before. it ought to last well into the summer, especially as the winds have drifted the gulches full and it has settled into solid masses." "yes, there ought to be a good supply," answered joe, who was busy cooking the breakfast. "which of the ponies do you think i had better take this morning, phil? the pinto?" "i thought so. i've given him a good feed of oats. he'll enjoy the outing, i expect, for he's feeling pretty chipper this morning. he tried to nip me in the ribs while i was rubbing him down. he needs a little exercise." we had arranged between us that joe should ride to sulphide that morning to see tom connor and yetmore, as my father had directed; and accordingly, as soon as he could get off, away he went; the pinto pony, very fresh and lively, going off as though he intended to gallop the whole distance. left to myself, i first went up to measure the flow of the underground stream, according to custom, and then, taking a shovel, i went to work clearing the headgates of our ditches, which had become more or less encumbered with refuse during the winter. there were two of them, set in niches of the rock on either side of the pool; for, to irrigate the land on both sides of the creek, we necessarily had to have two ditches. i had been at it only a few minutes when i noticed a curious booming noise in the direction of the mountains, which, continuing for a minute or two, presently died out again. from my position close under the wall of the second mesa, i could see nothing, and though it seemed to me to be a peculiar and unusual sound, i concluded that it was only a storm getting up; for, even at a distance of seven miles, we could often hear the roaring of the wind in the pine-trees. a quarter of an hour later, happening to look up the sulphide road, i was rather surprised to see a horseman coming down, riding very fast. he was about a mile away when i first caught sight of him, and i could not make out who he was, but presently, as i stood watching, a slight bend in the road allowed the sunlight to fall upon the horse's side, when i recognized the pinto. it was joe coming home again. i knew very well, of course, that he could not have been all the way to sulphide and back in so short a time, and my first thought was that the spirited pony was running away with him; but as he approached i saw that joe was leaning forward in the saddle, rather urging forward his steed than restraining him. "what's up?" i thought to myself, as i stood leaning on my shovel. "has he forgotten something? he seems to be in a desperate hurry if he has: joe doesn't often push his horse like that. something the matter, i'm afraid." there was a rather steep pitch where the road came down into our valley, and it was a regular practice with us to descend this hill with some caution. here, at any rate, i expected joe to slacken his pace; but when i saw him come flying down at full gallop, where a false step by the pony would endanger both their necks, i knew there was something the matter, and flinging down my shovel, i ran to meet him. "what is it, joe?" i cried, as soon as he came within hearing. pulling in his pony, which, poor beast, stood trembling, with hanging head and legs astraddle, the breath coming in blasts from its scarlet nostrils, joe leaped to the ground, crying: "a snow-slide! a fearful great snow-slide! right down on peter's house!" for a moment we stood gazing at each other in silence, when joe, speaking very rapidly, went on: "we must get up there at once, phil: we may be able to help peter. though if he was in his house when the slide came down, i'm afraid we can do nothing. his cabin must be buried five hundred feet deep, and the heavy snow will pack like ice with its own weight." "we'll take a couple of shovels, anyhow," i cried. "i'll get 'em. pull your saddle off the pinto, joe, he's used up, poor fellow, and slap it on to the little gray. saddle my pony, too, will you? i'll clap some provisions into a bag and bring 'em along: there's no knowing how long we'll be gone!" "all right," replied joe. and without more words, he turned to unsaddle the still panting pony, while i ran to the house. in five minutes, or less, we were under way. "not too fast!" cried joe. "we mustn't blow the ponies at the start. it's a good eight miles up to peter's house." as we ascended the hill and came up on top of the second mesa, i was able to see for the first time the great scar on the mountain where the slide had come down. "phew!" i whistled. "it was a big one, and no mistake. did you see it start, joe?" "yes, i saw it start. i happened to be looking up there, thinking it looked pretty dangerous, when a great mass of snow which was overhanging that little cliff up there near the saddle, fell and started the whole thing. it seemed to begin slowly. i could see three or four big patches of snow fall from the precipice above peter's cabin as though pushed over, and then the whole great mass, fifteen feet thick, i should think, three hundred yards wide and four or five times as long, came down with a rush, pouring over the cliff with a roar like thunder. i wonder you didn't hear it." "i did," i replied, remembering the noise i had taken for a wind-storm, "but being under the bluff, and the waterfall making so much noise, i couldn't hear distinctly, and so thought nothing of it. why!" i cried, as i looked again. "there used to be a belt of trees running diagonally across the slope. they're all gone!" "yes, every one of them. there were some biggish ones, too, you remember; but the slide snapped them off like so many carrots. it cut a clean swath right through them, as you see." "where were you, joe, when you saw it come down?" i asked. "more than half way to sulphide. i came back in fifteen minutes--four miles." "poor little pinto! no wonder he was used up!" we had been riding at a smart lope, side by side, while this conversation was going on, and in due time we reached the foot-hills. here our pace was necessarily much reduced, but we continued on up peter's creek as rapidly as possible until the gulch became so narrow and rocky, and so encumbered with great patches of snow, that we thought we could make better time on foot. leaving our ponies, therefore, we went scrambling forward, until, about half a mile from our destination, joe suddenly stopped, and holding up his hand, cried eagerly: "hark! keep quiet! listen!" "bow, wow, wow! bow, wow, wow, wow, wow!" came faintly to our ears from far up the mountain. "it's old sox!" cried joe. "there are no dogs up here!" and clapping his hands on either side of his mouth, he gave a yell which made the echoes ring. almost immediately the sharp report of a rifle came down to us, and with a spontaneous cheer we plunged forward once more. it was hard work, for we were about nine thousand feet above sea level; the further we advanced, too, the more snow we encountered, until presently we found the narrow valley so blocked with it that we had to ascend the mountain-spur on one side to get around it. in doing so, we came in sight of the cliff behind peter's house, and then, for the first time, we understood what a snow-slide really meant. reaching half way up the thousand-foot precipice was a great slope of snow, completely filling the end of the valley; and projecting from it at all sorts of angles were trees, big and little, some whole, some broken off short, some standing erect as though growing there, some showing nothing but their roots. at the same time, from the edge of the precipice upward to the summit of the ridge, we had a clear view of the long, bare track left by the slide, with the snow-banks, fifteen or twenty feet thick, still standing on either side of it, held back by the trees. "what a tremendous mass of snow!" i exclaimed, "there must be ten million tons of it! and what an irresistible power! peter's house must have been crushed like an eggshell!" "yes," replied joe. "but meanwhile where's peter?" once more he shouted; and this time, somewhere straight ahead of us, there was an answering shout which set us hurrying forward again with eager expectancy. at the same moment, up from the ground flew old sox, perched upon the root of an inverted tree, where, showing big and black against the snow bank behind him, he set to work to bark a continuous welcome as we struggled forward to the spot, one behind the other. beneath a tree, stretched on a mat of fallen pine-needles, just on the very outer edge of the slide, lay our old friend, the hermit, who, when he saw us approaching, raised himself on his elbow, and waving his other hand to us, called out cheerily: "how are you, boys? glad to see you! you're welcome--more than welcome!" "hurt, peter?" cried joe, running forward and throwing himself upon his knees beside the injured man. "a trifle. no bones broken, i believe, but pretty badly bruised and strained, especially the right leg above the knee. i find i can't walk--at least not just yet." "how did you escape the slide?" i asked. "why, i had warning of it, luckily. i was up pretty early this morning and was just about to leave the house, when a dab of snow--a couple of tons, maybe--came down and knocked off my chimney. i knew what that meant, and i didn't waste much time, you may be sure, in getting out. i grabbed my rifle and ran for it. i was hardly out of my door when the roar began, and you may guess how i ran then. i had reached almost this spot when down it came. the edge of it caught me and tumbled me about; sometimes on the surface, sometimes on the ground; now on my face and now feet uppermost, i was pitched this way and that like a cork in a torrent, till a big tree--the one sox is sitting on, i think--slapped me on the back with its branches and hurled me twenty feet away among the rocks. it was then i got hurt; but on the other hand, being flung out of the snow like that saved me from being buried, so i can't complain. it was as narrow a shave as one could well have." "it certainly was," said i. "and did you hold on to the rifle all the time?" "yes; though why, i can't say. the natural instinct to hold on to something, i suppose. but how is it you are on hand so promptly? it did occur to me as i lay here that one of you might notice that there had been a slide and remember me, but i never expected to see you here so soon." "well, that was another piece of good fortune," i replied. "joe saw the slide come down and rode a four-mile race to come and tell me. we did not lose a minute in getting under way, and we haven't wasted any time in getting here either. but now we are here, the question is: how are we going to get you out?" "where do you propose to take me?" asked peter. "down to our house." for a brief instant the hermit looked as though he were going to demur; but if he had entertained such an idea, he thought better of it, and thanked me instead. "it's very good of you," said he; "though it gives me an odd sensation. i haven't been inside another man's house for years." "well, don't you think it's high time you changed your habits?" ask joe, laughing. "and you couldn't have a better opportunity--your own house smashed flat; yourself helpless; and we two all prepared to lug you off whether you like it or not." "well," said peter, smiling at joe's threat, "then i suppose i may as well give in. you're very kind, though, boys," he added, seriously, "and i'm very glad indeed to accept your offer." "then let us pitch in at once and start downward," said joe. "do you think you could walk with help?" "i doubt it; but i'll have a try." it was no use, though. with one arm over joe's shoulder and the other over mine he essayed to walk, but the attempt was a failure. his right leg dragged helplessly behind; he could not take a step. "we've got to think of some other way," said joe, as peter once more stretched himself at full length upon the ground. "can we----" but here he was interrupted. all this time, sox, with rare backwardness, had remained perched upon his tree-root, looking on and listening, but at this moment down he flew, alighted upon the ground near peter's head, made a complete circuit of his master's prostrate form, then hopped up on his shoulder, and having promenaded the whole length of his body from his neck to his toes, he shook out his feathers and settled himself comfortably upon the hermit's left foot. we all supposed he intended to take a nap, but in another two seconds he straightened up again, eyed each of us in turn, and, with an air of having thought it all out and at last decided the matter beyond dispute, he remarked in a tone of gentle resignation: "john brown's body." having delivered this well-considered opinion with becoming solemnity, he threw back his head and laughed a rollicking laugh, as though he had made the very best joke that ever was heard. "you black heathen, sox!" cried his master. "i believe you would laugh at a funeral." "lies," said sox, opening one eye and shutting it again; a remark which, though it sounded very much as though intended as an insult to peter, was presumably but the continuation of his previous quotation. "get out, you old rascal!" cried the hermit, "shooing" away the bird with his hat. "your conversation is not desired just now." and as sox flew back to his perch, peter continued: "how far down did you leave your ponies, boys?" "about a mile," i replied. "then i believe the best way will be for one of you to go down and bring up one of the ponies. i can probably get upon his back with your help, and then, by going carefully, i believe we can get down." "all right," said joe, springing to his feet. "we'll try it. i'll go down. the little gray is the one, phil, don't you think?" "yes," i answered. "the little gray's the one; he's more sober-minded than my pony and very sure-footed. bring the gray." without further parley, away went joe, and in about three-quarters of an hour he appeared again, leading the pony by the bridle. "it's pretty rough going," said he, "but i think we can make it if we take it slowly. the pony came up very well. now, peter let's see if we can hoist you into the saddle." it was a difficult piece of work, for peter, though he had not an ounce of fat on his body, was a pretty heavy man, and being almost helpless himself, the feat was not accomplished without one or two involuntary groans on the part of the patient. at last, however, we had him settled into the saddle, when joe, carrying the rifle, took the lead, while i, with the two shovels over my shoulder, brought up the rear. in this order the procession started, but it had no more than started when peter called to us to stop. in order to avoid going up the hill more than was necessary, we were skirting along the edge of the great snow-bank, when, as we passed just beneath the big tree upon one of whose roots socrates was perched, peter, looking up to call to the bird, espied something which at once attracted his attention. "wait a moment, boys, will you?" he requested, checking the pony; and then, turning to me, he continued: "look up there, phil. do you see that black stone stuck among the roots? poke it out with the shovel, will you? i should like to look at it." wondering rather at his taking any interest in stones at such a time, i nevertheless obeyed his behest, and with two or three vigorous prods i dislodged the black fragment, catching it in my hand as it fell; though it was so unexpectedly heavy that i nearly let it drop. "ah!" exclaimed peter, when i had handed it up to him. "just what i thought! this will interest tom connor." "why?" we both asked. "what is it?" "a chunk of galena. look! do you see how it is made up of shining cubes of some black mineral? lead--lead and sulphur. there's a vein up there somewhere." "and the big tree, pushing its roots down into the vein, has brought away a piece of it, eh?" asked joe. "yes, that is what i suppose. there are some bits of light-colored rock up there, too, phil. pry out one or two of those, will you?" i did as requested, and on my passing them to peter, he said: "these are porphyry rocks. the general formation up there is limestone, i know--i've noticed it frequently--but i expect it is crossed somewhere--probably on the line of the belt of trees--by a porphyry dike. put the specimens into your pocket, joe; we must keep them to show to connor. it's a very important find. and now let us get along." the journey down the gulch was very slow and very difficult--we made hardly a mile an hour--though, when we left the mountain and started across the mesa we got along better. when about half way, i left the others and galloped home, where i lighted a fire and heated a lot of water, so that, when at length peter arrived, i had a steaming hot tubful all ready for him in the spare room on the ground floor. though our friend protested against being treated like an invalid, declaring his belief that he would be about right again by morning, he nevertheless consented to take his hot bath and go to bed; though i think he was persuaded to do so more because he was unwilling to disappoint us after all our preparations, than because he really expected to derive any benefit. be that as it may--and for my part i shall always hold that it was the hot bath that did it--when we went into peter's room next morning, what was our surprise to find our cripple up and dressed. though his right leg was still so stiff as to be of little use to him, he declined our help, and with the aid of a couple of broomsticks propelled himself out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, where joe was busy getting the breakfast ready. his rapid recovery was astonishing to both of us; though, as joe remarked later, we need not be so very much surprised, for, with his hardy life and abstemious habits he was as healthy as any wild animal. as we sat at our morning meal, we talked over our find of yesterday, and discussed what was the proper course for us to pursue. "first, and most important," said peter, "tom connor must be notified. we must waste no time. the prospectors are beginning to get out, and any one of them, noticing the new scar on the mountain, might go exploring up there. when does tom quit work on the pelican?" "this evening," replied joe. "it was this evening, wasn't it, phil?" "yes," i replied. "he was to quit at five this evening, and his intention then was to come down here next day and make this place his base of operations." "then the thing to do," said joe, "is for me to ride up there this morning--i started to go yesterday, you know, peter--and catch tom up at the mine at noon. when he hears of our discovery, i've not a doubt but that he will pack up and come back with me this evening, so as to get a start first thing to-morrow." "i expect he will," said i. "and while you are up there, joe, you can see yetmore and give him your information about those cart-tracks." "what do you mean?" asked peter. "information about what cart-tracks?" "oh, you haven't heard of it, of course," said i; and forthwith i explained to him all about the ore-theft, and how we suspected that the thief was in hiding somewhere in the foot-hills. peter listened attentively, and then asked: "are you sure there was only one of them?" "well, that's the general supposition," i replied. "why?" "i thought there might be a pair of them, that's all. i'll tell you an odd thing that happened only the day before yesterday, which may or may not have a bearing on the case. when i got home about dusk that evening, i found that some one had broken into my house and had stolen a hind-quarter of elk, a box of matches, a frying-pan, and--of all queer things to select--a bear-trap. what on earth any one can want with a bear-trap at this season of the year, i can't think, when there is hardly a bear out of his winter-quarters yet; and if he was he'd be as thin as a rail. i found the fellow's tracks easily enough--tall man--big feet--long stride--and trailed them down the gulch to a point where another man had been sitting on a rock waiting for him. this other man's track was peculiar: he was lame--stepped short with his right foot, and the foot itself was out of shape. their trail went on down the hill towards the mesa, but it was then too dark to follow it, and i was going off to take it up again next morning when that slide came down and changed my programme." "well," said joe, who had sat with his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands, listening closely, "where the lame man springs from i don't know, but if they should be the ore-thieves their stealing the meat and the frying-pan was a natural thing to do; for if they are going into hiding they will need provisions." "yes," replied peter; "and whether they knew of my place before or came upon it by accident, they would probably think it safer to steal from me than to raid one of the ranches and thus risk bringing all the ranchmen about their ears like a swarm of hornets." "that's true," said joe. "yes, i must certainly tell tom and yetmore about them: it may be important. and i'll start at once," he added, rising from the table as he spoke. "i'll take the buckboard, phil, and then i can bring back tom's camp-kit and tools for him; otherwise he would have to pack them on his pony and walk himself. i expect you will see us back somewhere about seven this evening." with that he went out, and soon afterwards we heard the rattle of wheels as he drove away. chapter xv the big reuben vein but it seemed as though joe were destined never to get to sulphide. i was still in the kitchen, when, not more than twenty minutes later, i heard the rattle of wheels again, and looking out of the window, there i saw my partner by the stable tying up his horse. "hallo, joe!" i cried, throwing open the door. "what's up?" without replying at the moment, joe came striding in, shut the door, and throwing his hat down upon the table, said: "i came back to tell you something. i've a notion, phil, that we've got to go hunting for that vein ourselves, and not lose time by going up to tell tom." "why? what makes you think that, joe?" i asked, in surprise. "that's what i came back to tell you. you know that little treeless 'bubble' that stands on the edge of the cañon only about half a mile up-stream from here? well, when i drove up the hill out of our valley just now i turned, naturally, to look at the scar on the mountain, when the first thing to catch my eye was the figure of a man standing on top of the 'bubble.'" "is that so? what was he doing?" "he was looking at the scar, too." "how do you know that, joe?" i asked, incredulously. "you couldn't tell at that distance whether he had his back to you or his face." "ah, but i could, though," joe replied; "and i'll tell you how. after a minute or so the man turned--i could see that motion distinctly enough--caught sight of me, and instantly jumped down behind the rocks." "didn't want to be seen, eh?" remarked peter. "and what did you do next?" "i felt sure he was watching me, though i couldn't see him," joe went on, "and so, to make him suppose i hadn't observed him, i stayed where i was for a minute, and then drove leisurely on again. there's a dip in the road, you know, phil, a little further on, and as soon as i had driven down into it, out of sight, i pulled up, jumped out of the buckboard, and running up the hill again i crawled to the top of the rise and looked back. there was the man, going across the mesa at a run, headed straight for big reuben's gorge!" joe paused, and for a moment we all sat looking at each other in silence. "any idea who he was?" i asked presently. "yes," replied joe, without hesitation. "it was long john butterfield." "you seem very sure," remarked peter; "but do you think you could recognize him so far off?" "i feel sure it was long john," joe answered. "i have very long sight; and as the man stood there on top of the 'bubble,' with the sun shining full upon him, he looked as tall as a telegraph pole. yes, i feel certain it was long john." "then yetmore has started him out to prospect for that vein!" i cried. "he is probably camped in the neighborhood of big reuben's gorge, following up the stream, and i suppose he heard the roar of the slide yesterday and came down this way the first thing this morning to get a look at the scar." "that's it, i expect," joe answered. "and you suppose," said peter, "that he went running back to his camp to get his tools and go prospecting up on the scar." joe nodded. "then, what do you propose to do?" asked the hermit. "i've been thinking about it as i drove back," replied joe, "and my opinion is that phil and i ought to go up at once, see if we can't find the spot where that big tree was rooted out, and stake the claim for tom connor. if we lose a whole day by going up to sulphide to notify tom, it would give long john a chance to get in ahead of us and perhaps beat us after all." the bare idea of such a catastrophe was too much for me. i sprang out of my chair, crying, "we'll go, joe! and we'll start at once! how are we to get up there, peter? there must be any amount of snow; and we are neither of us any good on skis, even if we had them." "yes, there's plenty of snow," replied peter promptly, entering with heartiness into the spirit of the enterprise, "lots of snow, but you can avoid most of it by taking the ridge on the right of the creek and following along its summit to where it connects with the saddle. you'll find a little cliff up there, barring your way, but by turning to your left and keeping along the foot of the precipice you will come presently to the upper end of the slide, and then, by coming down the slide, you will be able to reach the place where the line of trees used to stand, which is the place you want to reach." "is it at all dangerous?" asked joe. "why, yes," replied peter, "it is a bit dangerous, especially on the slide itself now that the trees are gone; though if you are ordinarily careful you ought to be able to make it all right, there being two of you. for a man by himself it would be risky--a very small accident might strand him high and dry on the mountain--but where there are two together it is reasonably safe." "come on, then, joe," said i. "let's be off." "wait a bit!" cried our guest, holding up his hand. "you talk of staking a claim for tom connor; well, suppose you _should_ find the spot where the big tree was rooted out, and _should_ find a vein there--do you know how to write a location-notice?" "no," said i, blankly. "we don't." "well, i'll write you out the form," said peter. "i've read hundreds of them and i remember it well enough, and you can just copy the wording when you set up your stake--if you have occasion to set one up at all." he sat down and quickly wrote out the form for us, when, pocketing the paper, we went over to the stable, saddled up, and leaving peter in charge, away we rode, armed with a pick, a shovel, an ax and a coil of rope. according to the hermit's directions, instead of following up the bed of the creek which led to his house, we took to the spur on the right, the top of which being treeless, had been swept bare of snow by the winds and presented no serious obstacle to our sure-footed ponies. we were able, therefore, to ride up the mountain so far that we presently found ourselves looking down upon peter's house, or, rather, upon the mountain of snow which covered it. but here the character of the spur changed, or, to speak more accurately, here the spur ended and another one began. between the two, half-filled with well-packed snow, lay a deep crevice, which, bearing away down hill to our right, was presently lost among the trees. "from the lay of the land," said joe, "i should judge that this is the head of the creek which runs through big reuben's gorge--peter told us it started up here, you remember. and from the look of it," he continued, "i should suppose that the shortest way of getting over to the slide would be to cut right across here to the left through the trees. but that is out of the question: the snow would be ten feet over our heads; so our only way is to cross this gulch and go on up as far as we can along the top of the next ridge, as peter said." "then we shall have to leave the ponies here," i remarked, "and do the rest on foot: there's no getting them across this place." accordingly, we abandoned our ponies at this point, and having with some difficulty scrambled across the gulch ourselves, we ascended to the ridge of the next spur and continued our way upward. this spur was crowned by an outcrop of rock, which being much broken up and the cracks being filled with snow, made the walking not only difficult but dangerous. by taking care, however, we avoided any accident, and, after a pretty stiff climb arrived at the foot of a perpendicular ledge of rocks which cut across our course at right angles--the little cliff peter had told us we should find barring our way. here, turning to the left, as directed, we skirted along the base of the cliff, sometimes on the rocks and sometimes on the edge of the snow which rested against them, until at last we reached a point whence we could look right down the steep slope of the slide. covered with loose shale, the slope for its whole length appeared to be smooth and of uniform pitch, except that about three-quarters of the way down we could see a line of snow hummocks stretching all across its course, indicating pretty surely that here had grown a strip of trees, which being most of them broken off short had caught and held a little snow against the stumps. "there's where we want to get, joe!" i cried, eagerly. "down there to that row of stumps! this is a limestone country--all this shale, you see, is composed of limestone chips--but that tree-root in which we found the chunk of galena held two or three bits of porphyry as well, you remember, and if it did come from down there, there's a good chance that that line of stumps indicates the course of a porphyry outcrop, as peter guessed, cutting across the limestone formation." "well, what of that?" asked joe. "is a porphyry outcrop a desirable thing to find? is it an 'indication'?" "it's plain you're no prospector, joe," said i, laughing; "and though i don't set up to know much about it myself, i've learned enough from hearing tom connor talk of 'contact veins' to know that if there's a vein in the neighborhood the most promising place to look for it is where the limestone and the porphyry come in contact." "is that so?" cried joe, beginning to get excited. "then let us get down there at once; for, ten to one, that's where our big tree came from." "that's all very well," said i. "the row of stumps is our goal, all right, but how are we going to get down there? i don't feel at all inclined to trust myself on this loose shale. the pitch is so steep that i should be afraid of its starting to slide and carrying us with it, when i don't see anything to stop us from going down to the bottom and over the precipice at the lower end." "that's true," joe assented. "no, it won't do to trust ourselves on this treacherous shale; it's too dangerous. what we must do, phil, is to get across to that long spur of rocks over there and climb down that. it will bring us close down to the line of stumps." the spur to which joe referred, connecting at its upper end with the cliff at the foot of which we were then standing, reached downward like a great claw to within a short distance of the chain of snow hummocks, and undoubtedly our safest course would be to follow it to its lowest extremity and begin our descent from there. it was near the further edge of the slide, however, and to get over to it we had to take a course close under the cliff, holding on to the rocks with our right hands as we skirted along the upper edge of the shaly slope. it was rather slow work, for we had to be careful, but at length we reached our destination, when, turning once more to our left, we scrambled down the spur to its lowest point. "now, phil," cried joe, "you stay where you are while i go down. no use to take unnecessary risks by both going down together. you sit here, if you don't mind, and wait for me; i won't be any longer than i can help." "all right," said i; "but take the end of the rope in your hand, joe. no use for _you_ to take unnecessary risks, either." [illustration: "he shot downward like an arrow"] "that's a fact," replied my companion. "yes, i'll take the rope." with a shovel in one hand and the end of the rope in the other, joe started downward, but presently, having advanced as far as the rope extended, he dropped it and went cautiously on, using the shovel-handle as a staff. down to this point he had had little difficulty, but a few steps further on, reaching presumably the change of formation we had expected to find, where the smooth, icy rock beneath the shale was covered only by an inch or so of the loose material, the moment he stepped upon it joe's feet slipped from under him and falling on his back he shot downward like an arrow. i held my breath as i watched him, horribly scared lest he should go flying down the whole remaining length of the slope and over the precipice; but my suspense lasted only a few seconds, for presently a great jet of snow flew into the air, in the midst of which joe vanished. the next moment, however, he appeared again, hooking the snow out of his neck with his finger, and called out to me: "all right, phil! i fell into a hole where a tree came out. i'm going to shovel out the snow now. don't let go of that rope whatever you do." so saying he set to work with the shovel, making the snow fly, while i sat on the rocks a hundred feet above, watching him. in about a quarter of an hour he looked up and called out to me: "i've found it, phil. right in this hole. it's the hole our big tree came out of, i believe. can't tell how much of a vein, though, the ground is frozen too hard. bring down the pick, will you? come down to the end of the rope and throw it to me." in response to this request, having first tied a knot in the end of the rope and fixed it firmly in a crack in the rocks, i went carefully down as far as it reached, when, with a back-handed fling, i sent the pick sliding down to my partner. "don't you think i might venture down and help you, joe?" i called out. "no!" replied joe with much emphasis. "you stay where you are, phil. it would be too risky. i can do the work by myself all right." still keeping my hold on the rope, therefore, i sat myself down on the shale, while joe, pick in hand, went to work again. pretty soon he straightened up and said: "i've found the vein all right, phil; i don't think there can be a doubt of it. good strong vein, too, i should say." "how wide is it?" i asked. "can't tell how wide it is. i've found what i suppose to be the porphyry hanging-wall, right here"--tapping the rock with his pick--"and i've been trying to trench across the vein to find the foot-wall, but the shale runs in on me faster than i can dig it out." "what do you propose to do, then, joe?" "try one of those other holes further along and see if i can't find the vein again and get its direction. you sit still there, phil. i shall want you to give me a hand out of here soon." with extreme caution he made his way along the line of stumps, helping himself with the pick in one hand and the shovel in the other, until, about a hundred yards distant, he arrived at another hole where a tree had been rooted out, and here he went to work again. this time he kept at it for a good half hour, but at length he laid down his tools, and for a few minutes occupied himself by building with loose pieces of rock a little pillar about eighteen inches high. "can you see that, phil?" he shouted. "yes, i can see it," i called back. this seemed to be all joe wanted, for he at once picked up his tools again, and with the same caution made his way back to the first hole. "what's your pile of stones for, joe?" i asked. "why, i found the vein again, hanging-wall and all, and i set up that little monument so as to get the line of the vein from here." taking out of his pocket a little compass we had brought for the purpose, he laid it on the rock, and sighting back over his "monument," he found that the vein ran northeast and southwest. "phil," said he, "do you see that dead pine, broken off at the top, with a hawk's nest in it, away back there on the upper side of the gulch where we left the ponies?" "yes," i replied, "i see it. what of it?" "the line of the vein runs right to that tree, and i propose we get back and hunt for it there. i don't want to set up the location-stake here: this place is too difficult to get at and too dangerous to work in. so i vote we get back to the dead tree and try again there. what do you say?" "all right," i replied. "we'll do so." "very well, then i'll come up now." but this was more easily said than done. do what he would, joe could not get up to where i sat, holding out to him first a hand and then a foot. he tried walking and he tried crawling, but in vain; the rock beneath the shale was too steep and too smooth and too slippery. at length, at my suggestion, joe threw the shovel up to me, when, on my lying flat and reaching downward as far as i could stretch, he succeeded in hooking the pick over the shoulder of the shovel-blade, after which he had no more difficulty. "well, joe," said i, when we had safely reached the rocks again, "it's just as well we didn't both go down together after all, isn't it?" "that's what it is," replied my partner, heartily. "if you had tried to come down with me we should both probably have tumbled into that hole together, and there we should have had to stay till somebody came up to look for us; and there'd have been precious little fun in that. did it scare you when i went scooting down the slide on my back?" "it certainly did," i replied. "i expected to have to go down to peter's house and lug _you_ home next--if there was any of you left." "well, to tell you the truth, i was a bit scared myself. it was a great piece of luck my falling into that hole. it's a dangerous place, this, and the sooner we get out of it the better; so, let us start back, at once." making our way up the spur, we again skirted along between the upper edge of the slide and the foot of the cliff, and ascending once more to the ridge, we retraced our steps down it until we presently arrived at the dead tree with the hawk's nest in it. here, after a careful inspection of the ground, we went to work, joe with the pick, and i, following behind him, throwing out the loose stuff with the shovel and searching through each shovelful for bits of galena. in this way we worked, cutting a narrow trench across the line where we supposed the vein ought to run, until presently joe himself gave a great shout which brought me to his side in an instant. with the point of his pick he had hooked out a lump of galena as big as his head! my! how excited we were! and how we did work! we just flew at it, tooth and nail--or, rather, pick and shovel. if our lives had depended on it we could not have worked any harder, i firmly believe. the consequence was that at the end of an hour we had uncovered a vein fifteen feet wide, disclosing a porphyry wall on one side and a limestone wall on the other. the vein was not, of course, a solid body of ore. very far from it. though there were bits of galena scattered pretty thickly all across it, the bulk of the vein-matter was composed of scraps of quartz mixed with yellow earth--the latter, as we afterwards learned, being itself decomposed lead-ore--to say nothing of grass-roots, tree-roots and other rubbish which helped to make up the mass. but that we had found a real, genuine vein, even we, novices as we were at the business, could not doubt, and very heartily we shook hands with each other when our trenching at length brought us up against the limestone foot-wall. with the discovery of this foot-wall, joe called a halt. "enough!" he cried. "enough, phil! let's stop now. we've got the vein, all right, and a staving good vein it is, and all we have to do for the present is to set up our location-stake. to-morrow tom will come up here, when he can make his camp and get to work at it regularly, sinking his ten-foot prospect-hole. what are we going to name it? the 'hermit'? the 'raven'? the 'socrates'?" "call it the 'big reuben,'" i suggested. "good!" exclaimed joe. "that's it! the 'big reuben' it shall be." this, therefore, was the title we wrote upon our location-notice, by which we claimed for tom connor a strip of ground fifteen hundred feet in length along the course of the vein and one hundred and fifty feet wide on either side of it; and thus did our old enemy, big reuben, lend his name to a "prospect" which was destined later to take its place among the foremost mines of our district. chapter xvi the wolf with wet feet we had been so expeditious, thanks largely to joe's good judgment in tumbling into the right hole at the start when he slid down the shale, that we reached home well before sunset, when, according to the arrangement we had made as we rode down, joe started again that same evening for sulphide. this time he made the trip without interruption, and when at eight o'clock next morning he drove up to our house, tom connor was with him. "how are you, old man?" cried the latter, springing to the ground and shaking hands very heartily with our guest. "that was a pretty narrow squeak you had." "it certainly was," replied peter. "and if it hadn't been for these boys, i'd have been up there yet. what's the news, connor? any clue to your ore-thieves?" "not much but what you and the boys have furnished. but ask joe, he'll tell you." "well," said joe, "in the first place, long john has disappeared. he has not been seen since the evening before the robbery. no one knows what's become of him." "is that so?" i cried. "then i suppose the robbery is laid to him." "yes, to him and another man. i'll tell you all about it. after i had been to the mine and given tom our news, i went down town to yetmore's and had a long talk with him. that was a good idea of your father's, phil, that we should go and tell yetmore: he took it very kindly, and repeated several times how much obliged he felt. he seems most anxious to be friendly." "it's my opinion," tom connor cut in, "that he got such a thorough scare that night of the explosion, and is so desperate thankful he didn't blow you two sky-high, that he can't do enough to make amends." "that's it, i think," said joe. "and i believe it is a great relief to him also to find that we are not trying to lay the blame on him. anyhow, he couldn't have been more friendly than he was; and he told me things which seem to throw some light on the matter of the ore-theft. there _was_ seemingly a second man concerned in it; a man with a club-foot, peter." "ah, ha!" said peter. "is that so?" "yes. there used to be a man about town known as 'clubfoot,' a crony of long john's," joe continued. "he was convicted of ore-stealing about three years ago, and was sent to the penitentiary. a few days ago he escaped, and it is yetmore's opinion that he ran straight to long john for shelter. on the night after the explosion he--yetmore, i mean, you know--went to john's house 'to give the blundering numskull a piece of his mind,' as he said--we can guess what about--and john wouldn't let him in; so they held their interview outside in the dark. i gathered that there was a pretty lively quarrel, which ended in yetmore telling long john that he had done with him, and that he needn't expect him to grub-stake him this spring. "it is yetmore's belief that the reason john wouldn't let him into his house--it's only a one-roomed shanty, you know--was that clubfoot was then inside; and he further believes that john, finding himself deprived of his expected summer's work, and no doubt incensed besides at yetmore's going back on him, as he would consider it, then and there planned with clubfoot the robbery of the ore; both of them being familiar with the workings of the pelican." "that sounds reasonable," remarked peter; "though, when all is said and done, it amounts to no more than a guess on yetmore's part. but, look here!" he went on, as the thought suddenly occurred to him. "if long john is not prospecting for yetmore or himself either, being supposedly in hiding, what was he doing on the 'bubble' yesterday?" "but perhaps he is prospecting for himself," tom connor broke in. "here we are, theorizing away like a house afire on the idea that he is the thief, when maybe he had nothing to do with it. and if he is prospecting for himself, the sooner i get up to that claim the better if i don't want to be interfered with. i reckon i'll dig out right away. if you boys," turning to us, "can spare the time and the buckboard you can help me a good bit by carrying up my things for me." "all right, tom," said i. "we can do so." starting at once, therefore, with a load of provisions, tools and bedding, we carried them up the mountain as far as we could on wheels, and then packed them the rest of the way on horseback, when, having seen tom comfortably established in camp near the big reuben--with the look of which he expressed himself as immensely pleased--joe and i turned homeward again about four in the afternoon. we were driving along, skirting the rim of our cañon, and were passing between the stream and the little treeless "bubble" upon which joe had, as he believed, seen long john standing the day before, when my companion remarked: "i should very much like to know, phil, what long john was doing up there. do you suppose----whoa! whoa, there, josephus! what's the matter with you?" this exclamation was addressed to the horse; for at this moment the ordinarily well-behaved josephus shied, snorted, and standing up on his hind feet struck out with his fore hoofs at a big timber-wolf, which, springing out from the shelter of some boulders on the margin of the cañon and passing almost under his nose, ran off and disappeared among the rocks. "he must have been down to the stream to get a drink," suggested joe. "he couldn't," said i; "the cañon-wall is too steep; no wolf could scramble up." "well, if he didn't," remarked my companion, "how did he get his feet wet? look here at his tracks." as he said this, joe pointed to the bare stone before us, where the wolf's wet tracks were plainly visible. "well," said i, "then i suppose there must be a way up after all. wait a moment, joe, while i take a look." jumping from the buckboard, i stepped over to the boulders whence the wolf had appeared, where, to my surprise, i found a pool, or, rather, a big puddle of water, which, overflowing, dripped into the cañon. where the water came from i could not at first detect, but on a more careful inspection i found that it ran, a tiny thread, along a crack in the lava not more than a couple of inches wide, which, on tracing it back, i found we had driven over without noticing. apparently the water came down from the "bubble" through a rift in the crater-wall. as i have stated before, several of the little craters contributed small streams of water to our creek, but this was not one of them, so, turning to my companion, i said: "joe, this is the first time i have ever seen any water come down from that 'bubble.' let us climb up to the top and take a look inside." away we went, therefore, scrambling up the rocky slope, when, having reached the rim, we looked down into the little crater. the area of its floor was only about an acre in extent, but instead of being grown over with grass and sagebrush, as was the case with most of them, this one was covered with blocks of stone of all sizes, some of them weighing several tons. it was evident that the walls, which were only about thirty feet in height, had at one time been much higher, but that in the course of ages they had broken down and thus littered the little bowl-shaped depression with the fragments. the thread of water which had drawn us up there came trickling out from among these blocks of stone, and we set out at once to trace it up to its source while we still had daylight. but this, we found, was by no means easy, for, though the stream did not dodge about much, but ran pretty directly down to the crack in the wall, its course was so much impeded by rocks, under and around which it had to make its way--while over and around them we had to make _our_ way--that it was ten or fifteen minutes before we discovered where it came from. we had expected to find a pool of rain-water, more or less extensive, seeping through the sand and slowly draining away. what we actually did find was something very different: something which filled us with wonder and excitement! about the middle of the little crater there came boiling out of the ground a strong spring, which, running along a deep, narrow channel it had in the course of many centuries worn in the solid stone floor of the crater, disappeared in turn beneath the litter of rocks. a short distance below the spring the channel was half filled for some distance with fragments of stone of no great size, which, checking the rush of the water, caused it to lap over the edge. it was this slight overflow which supplied the driblet we had followed up from the cañon below. "joe!" i exclaimed, greatly excited. "do you know what i think?" "yes, i do," my companion answered like a flash. "i think so, too. come on! let's find out at once!" following the channel, we went clambering over the rocks, which just here were not quite so plentiful, until, at a distance from the spring of about fifty yards, we came upon a large circular pool in which the water flowed continuously round and round as though stirred with a gigantic spoon, while in the centre it spun round violently, a perfect little whirlpool, and sank with a gurgle into the earth. for a moment we stood gazing spellbound at this natural phenomenon, hardly realizing what it meant, and then, with one impulse, we both threw our hats into the air with a shout, seized each other's hands, and danced a wild and unconventional dance, with no witness but a solitary eagle, which, passing high overhead, paused for an instant in his flight to wonder, probably, what those crazy, unaccountable human beings were up to now. at length, out of breath, we stopped, when joe, clapping his hands together to emphasize his words, cried: "at last we've found it, phil! this, _surely_, is the water-supply that keeps the 'forty rods' wet!" "it must be," i replied, no less excited than my partner. "it must be; it can't be anything else. but how are we going to prove it, joe?" "the only way i see is to divert the flow here; then, if our underground stream stops, we shall know this is it." "yes, but how are we to divert it?" "why, look here," joe answered. "the spring, i suppose, is a little extra-strong just now, causing that slight overflow up above here. well, what we must do is to take the line marked out for us by the overflow, and following it from the channel down to the crack in the crater-wall, break up and throw aside all the rocks that get in the way; then cut a new channel and send the whole stream off through the crack, when it will pour into the cañon, run across the ranch on the surface, and the 'forty rods' will dry up!" he gazed at me eagerly, with his fists shut tight, as though he were all ready to spring upon the impeding rocks and fling them out of the way at once. "that's all right, joe," i replied. "it's a good programme. but it's a tremendous piece of work, all the same. there are scores of rocks to be broken up and moved; and when that is done, there is still the new channel to be cut in the solid stone bed of the crater. the present channel is about eighteen inches deep; we shall have to make the new one six inches deeper, and something like a hundred feet long: a big job by itself, joe." "i know that," joe answered. "it's a big job, sure enough, and will take time and lots of hard work. still, we can do it----" "and what's more we will do it!" i cried. "what's the best way of setting about it?" "we shall have to blast out the channel and blow to pieces all the bigger rocks," joe replied. "it would take forever to do it with pick and sledge--in fact, it couldn't be done. we shall have to use powder and drill." "well, then," said i, "i'll tell you what we'll do. we'll borrow the tools from tom connor. he left a number of drills, you know, stored in our blacksmith-shop, and he'll lend 'em to us i'm sure. one of us had better drive back to the big reuben to-morrow morning and ask him." "all right, phil, we'll do so. my! i wish--it doesn't sound very complimentary--but i wish your father would stay away another week. i believe we can do this work in a week, and wouldn't it be grand if we could have the stream headed off before he got home! but how about the plowing, phil? i was forgetting that." "why, the only plowing left," i replied, "is the potato land, and that, fortunately, is not urgent; whereas the turning of this stream is urgent--extremely urgent--and my opinion is that we ought to get at it. anyhow, we'll begin on it, and if my father thinks proper to set us to plowing instead when he gets home--all right." "well, then, we'll begin on this work as soon as we can. and now, phil, let us get along home." we had been seated on a big stone while this discussion was going on, and were just about to rise, when joe, suddenly laying his hand on my arm, held up a warning finger. "sh!" he whispered. "don't speak. don't stir. i hear some one moving about!" squatting behind the rocks, i held my breath and listened, and presently i heard distinctly, somewhere close by, the tinkle of two or three chips of stone as they rolled down into the crater. some one was softly approaching the place where we sat. though to move was to risk detection, our anxiety to see who was there was too strong to resist, so joe, taking off his hat, slowly arose until he was able to peep through a chink between two of the big fragments which sheltered us. for a moment he stood there motionless, and then, tapping me on the shoulder, he signed to me to stand up too. peeping between the stones, i saw, not fifty yards away, a man coming carefully down the crater-wall on the side opposite from that by which we ourselves had entered. in spite of his care, however, he every now and then dislodged a little fragment of stone, which came clattering down the steep slope. it was one of these that had given us notice of his approach. there was no mistaking the tall, gaunt figure, even though the light of the sunset sky behind him made him look a veritable giant. it was long john butterfield. he was headed straight for our hiding-place, and it was with some uneasiness that i observed he had a revolver strapped about his waist. in appearance he looked wilder and more unkempt than ever, while the sharp, suspicious manner in which he would every now and then stop short and glance quickly all around, showed him to be nervous and ill at ease. while joe and i stood there silent and rigid as statues, long john came on down the slope, until presently he stopped scarce ten steps from us beside a big, flat stone. there, for a moment, he stood, his hand on his revolver, his body bent and his head thrust forward, his ears cocked and his little eyes roving all about the crater--the picture of a watchful wild animal--when, satisfied apparently that he was alone and unobserved, he went down upon his knees, threw aside several pieces of rock, and thrusting his arm under the flat stone, he pulled out--a sack! so close to us was he, that even in that uncertain light we could distinguish the word, "pelican," stenciled upon it in big black letters. laying this sack upon the flat stone, john reached into the hole again, and, one after another, brought out four others. apparently there were no more in there, for, having done this, he rose to his feet again, looked all about him once more, and then walked off a short distance up-stream. at the point where the channel overflowed he stopped again, when, to our wonderment he pulled off his coat, rolled up one sleeve, and going down upon his knees, began scratching around in the water. in a few seconds he fished out one at a time five dripping sacks, all of which he carried over and set down beside the first five. evidently he was working with some set purpose; though to us watchers it was all a perfectly mysterious proceeding. a few steps from where the sacks were piled was a little ledge of rock less than a foot high, above which was a steep slope covered with loose fragments of stone. taking up the sacks, two at a time, john carried them over to this spot, laid them all, end to end, close under the little ledge, and then, climbing up above them, he sat down, and with his big, flat feet sent the loose shale running down until the row of sacks was completely buried. this seemed to be all he wanted, for, having examined the result of his work and satisfied himself apparently that the sacks were perfectly concealed, he turned and went straight off up the crater-wall again, pausing at the crest for a minute to inspect the country ahead of him, and then, stepping over the rim, in another moment he had vanished. "come on, phil!" whispered my companion, eagerly. "let us see which direction he takes." "wait a bit," i replied. "give him five minutes: he might come back." we waited a short time, therefore, when, feeling pretty sure that john had gone for good, we scrambled to the summit of the ridge and looked out over the mesa. there we could see long john striding away at a great pace, apparently making straight for big reuben's gorge. "then yetmore was right," said joe. "those fellows were the ore-thieves after all. i wonder if they haven't taken up their quarters in big reuben's old cave. it would be a pretty good place for their purpose." "quite likely," i assented. "but what do you suppose, joe, can have been long john's object in coming down here and moving those ore-sacks?--for, of course, they are the pelican ore-sacks. they were well enough concealed before." "it does look mysterious at first sight," replied joe, "but i expect the explanation is simple enough. i think it is probable that when they brought the ore up here the two men divided the spoils on the spot, each hiding his own share in a place of his own choosing; and our respected friend, john, thinking to get ahead of the other thief, has just come and stolen his partner's share." "that would be a pretty shabby trick, but i expect it is just what he has done. he'll be a bit surprised when he finds that some one has played a similar trick on him. for, of course, we can't leave the sacks there, to be moved again if long john should take the notion that the hiding place is not safe enough. how shall we manage it, joe? if we are going to do anything this evening we must do it quickly: there won't be daylight much longer." after a moment's consideration, joe replied: "let us go down and carry those sacks outside the crater. then get along home, and come back here with the wagon and team by daylight to-morrow and haul them off. it is too much of a load for the buckboard, even if we walked ourselves, so it won't do to take them with us now." "all right," said i. "then we'll do that; and afterwards you can ride up to see tom connor about those tools, while i drive to sulphide with the ore. won't yetmore be glad to see me!" there was no time to lose, and even as it was, the waning light made it pretty difficult to pick our way across the rock-strewn bottom of the crater with a fifty-pound sack under each arm, but at length we had them all safely laid away in a crack in the rocks just outside the crater, whence it would be handy to remove them in the morning. by the time we had finished it was dark, and we hurriedly drove off home, contemplating with some reluctance the chores which were still to be done. from this duty, however, we had a happy relief, for our good friend, peter, anxious to make himself of some use, and taking his time about it, had managed to feed the horses and pigs, milk the cows, shut up the chickens and start the fire for supper--a service on his part which we very thoroughly appreciated. we had just sat down to our evening meal, and were telling peter all about our two great finds of the afternoon, when our guest, whose long and solitary life as a hunter had made his hearing preternaturally sharp, straightened himself in his chair, and holding up one finger, said: "hark! i hear a horse coming up the valley at a gallop!" at first joe and i could hear nothing, but presently we detected the rhythmical beat of the hoofs of a horse approaching at a smart canter. somebody was coming up from san remo--for though a wheeled vehicle could not pass over the "forty rods," a horseman could pick his way--and knowing that nobody ever came that way in the "soft" season unless our house was his destination, i stepped to the door, wondering who our visitor could be. great was my surprise when the horseman, riding into the streak of light thrown through the open doorway, proved to be yetmore! "why, mr. yetmore!" i cried. "is it you? come in! you're just in time for supper." "thank you, phil," replied the storekeeper, "but i won't stop. i was down at san remo this afternoon, and it occurred to me to ride home this way and inquire of you if you'd seen or heard anything more of those ore-thieves. by the way, before i forget it: i brought your mail for you;" at the same time handing me one letter and two or three newspapers. "thank you," said i, thrusting the letter into my pocket. "and as to the ore-thieves, mr. yetmore, we've seen one of them; but we've done something a good deal better than that--we've found the ore." "what!" shouted yetmore, so loudly that joe came running out, thinking there must be something the matter. "what! you've found the ore!" so saying, he leaped from his horse and seizing me by the arm, cried: "you're not joking, are you, phil? for goodness' sake, don't fool me, boys. it's a matter of life and death to me, almost!" his anxiety was plainly expressed in his eager eyes and trembling hand, and i was glad to note the look of relief which came over his face when i replied: "i'm not fooling, mr. yetmore. we've found it all right--this evening. come in and have some supper, and we'll tell you all about it." yetmore did not decline a second time, but forgetting even to tie up his horse, which joe did for him, he followed me at once into the kitchen, where, hardly noticing peter, to whom i introduced him, and neglecting entirely the food placed before him, he sat down and instantly exclaimed: "now, phil! quick! go ahead! go ahead! don't keep me waiting, there's a good fellow! how did you find the ore? where is it? what have you done with it?" not to prolong his suspense, i at once related to him as briefly as possible the whole incident, winding up with the statement that we proposed to go and bring in the sacks by daylight on the morrow. at this conclusion yetmore sprang to his feet. "boys," said he, in a tremulous voice, "you've done me an immense service; now do me one more favor: lend me your big gun. i'll ride right up to the 'bubble' and stand guard over the ore till morning. if i should lose it a second time i believe it would turn my head." that he was desperately in earnest was plain to be seen: his voice was shaky, and his hand, i noticed, was shaky, too, when he held it out entreating us to lend him our big gun. i was about to say he might take it, and welcome, when joe pulled me by the sleeve and whispered in my ear; i nodded my acquiescence; upon which my companion, turning to yetmore, said: "we can do better than that, mr. yetmore. we'll hitch up the little mules and go and bring away the ore to-night." i have no doubt that to our anxious visitor the time seemed interminable while joe and i were finishing our supper, but at length we rose from the table, and within a few minutes thereafter we were off; yetmore himself sitting in the bed of the wagon with the big shotgun across his knees. as it was then quite dark, and as we did not wish to attract any possible notice by carrying a light, we were obliged to take it very slowly, one or other of us now and then descending from the wagon and walking ahead as a pilot. in due time, however, we reached the foot of the "bubble," when, leaving yetmore to take care of the mules, joe and i climbed up to the crevice, and having presently, by feeling around with our hands, found the hiding-place of the sacks, we pulled them out and carried them, one at a time down to the wagon. all this, being done in the dark, took a long time, and it was pretty late when we drew up again at our own door. here, for the first time, yetmore, striking a match, examined the ten little sacks. "it's all right, boys," said he, with a great sigh of relief. "these are the sacks; and none of them has been opened, either." he paused for a moment, and then, with much earnestness of manner, went on: "how am i to thank you, boys? you've done me a service of infinite importance. the loss of that ore almost distracted me: i needed the money so badly. but now, thanks to you, i shall be all right again. you don't know how great a service you have done me. i shan't forget it. we've not always been on the best of terms, i'm sorry to say--my fault, though, my fault entirely--but i should be very glad, if it suits you, to start fresh to-night and begin again as friends." he was so evidently in earnest, that joe and i by one impulse shook hands with him and declared that nothing would suit us better. "and how about the ore, mr. yetmore?" i asked. "what will you do now?" "if you don't mind," he replied, "i should like to drive straight up to sulphide at once. if you will lend me the mules and wagon, i'll set right off. i'll return them to-morrow." "very well," said i. "and you can leave your own horse in the stable, so that whoever brings down the team will have a horse to ride home on." yetmore, accordingly, climbed up to the seat and drove off at once, calling back over his shoulder: "good-night, boys; and thank you again. i feel ten years younger than i did this morning!" chapter xvii the draining of the "forty rods" as soon as yetmore was out of sight, joe and i turned into the house, where we found that peter, wise man, had gone to bed; an example we speedily followed. but, tired though we were, we could neither of us go to sleep. for a long time we lay talking over the exciting events of the day, and going over the probable consequences, if, as now seemed certain, we had indeed discovered the source of our underground stream. first and foremost, by diverting it we should dry up the "forty rods" and render productive a large piece of land which at present was more bane than benefit; we should bring the county road past our door; we should more than double our supply of water for irrigation purposes--a fact which, by itself, would be of immense advantage to us. at present we had no more than enough water--sometimes hardly enough--to irrigate our crops, but by doubling the supply we could bring into use another hundred acres or more. on either side of our present cultivated area, and only three feet above it, spread the first of the old lake-benches, a fine, level tract of land, capable of growing any crop, but which, for lack of water, we had hitherto utilized only as a dry pasture for our stock. by a test we had once made of a little patch of it, we had found that it was well adapted to the cultivation of wheat; and as i lay there thinking--joe having by this time departed to the land of dreams--i pictured in my mind the whole area converted into one flourishing wheat-field; i built a castle in the air in the shape of a flour-mill which i ran by power derived from our waterfall; and with a two-ton load of flour i was in imagination driving down to san remo over the splendid road which traversed the now solid "forty rods," when a light shining in my face disturbed me. it was the sun pouring in at our east window! half-past seven! and we still in bed! such a thing had not happened to me since that time when, a rebellious infant, i had been kept in bed perforce with a light attack of the measles. needless to say, we were up and dressed in next to no time, when, on descending to the kitchen, we found another surprise in store for us. peter was gone! he must have been gone some hours, too, for the fire in the range had burned out. he had not deserted us, however, for on the table was a bit of paper upon which he had written, "back pretty soon. wait for me"--a behest we duly obeyed, not knowing what else to do. about an hour later i heard the trampling of horses outside the front door, and going out, there i saw peter stiffly descending from the back of our gray pony; while beside him, with a broad grin on his jolly face, stood tom connor. "why, tom!" i cried. "what brings you here?" tom laughed. "didn't expect to see me, eh, phil," said he. "it's peter's doing. while you two lazy young rascals were snoring away in bed, he started out at four-thirty this morning and rode all the way up to my camp to borrow my tools for you. and when he told me what you wanted 'em for, i decided to come down, too. you did me a good turn in finding the big reuben for me--and 'big' is the word for it, phil, i can tell you--and so i thought i couldn't do less than come down here for a day or two and give you a hand. it's probable i can help you a good bit with your trench-cutting." "there's no doubt about that, tom," i replied. "we shall be mighty glad of your help. you can give us a starter, anyhow. but you, peter, we couldn't think what had become of you. don't you think it was a bit risky to go galloping about the country with that game leg of yours?" "i couldn't very well go without it," replied our guest, laughing. "no, i don't think so," he added, more seriously. "it was easy enough, all except the mounting and dismounting. in fact, phil, i'm so nearly all right again that i should have no excuse to be hanging around here any longer if it were not that i can be of use to you by taking all the chores off your hands, thus leaving you and joe free to get about your work in the crater." "that will be a great help," i replied. "though as to letting you go, peter, we don't intend to do that, at least till my father and mother get home." "when _do_ they get home?" asked tom. "have you heard from them since they left?" "why!" i cried, suddenly remembering the letter yetmore had brought up from san remo the previous evening. "i have a letter from my father in my pocket now. i'd forgotten all about it." quickly tearing it open, i read it through. it was very short, being written mainly with the object of informing me that he was delayed and would not be home until the afternoon of the following wednesday. this was friday. "joe!" i shouted; and joe, who was in the stable, came running at the call. "joe," i cried, "we have till wednesday afternoon to turn that stream. four full days. tom is going to help us. peter will take the chores. can we make it?" "good!" cried joe. "great! make it? i should think so. we'll do it if we have to work night and day. my! but this is fine!" he rubbed his hands in anticipation of the task ahead of him. i never did know a fellow who took such delight in tackling a job which had every appearance of being just a little too big for him. we did not waste any time, you may be sure. having picked out the necessary tools, we went off at once, taking our dinners with us, and arriving at the foot of the "bubble," we carried up into the crater the drills, hammers and other munitions of war we had brought with us. "i thought you said there was a driblet of water running out at the crevice," remarked tom. "i don't see it." "there was yesterday," i replied, "but it seems to have stopped. i wonder why." "that's easily accounted for," said joe. "it was those sacks lying in the channel which backed up the water and made it overflow, and when long john cleared the course by pulling out the sacks it didn't overflow any more." "then it's to long john you owe this discovery!" cried tom. "if 'the wolf' hadn't blocked that channel the water would not have run down to the cañon, and the other wolf would not have got his feet wet; and if the other wolf had not got his feet wet, you would never have thought of coming up here." "that's all true," i assented. "in fact, you may go further than that and say that if john had not stolen the ore he would not have blocked the channel with it, and we should not have found the spring; if yetmore had not given john leave to blow up your house, john would not have stolen the ore; if you had not bored a hole in yetmore's oil-barrel, yetmore would not have given john leave--it's like the story of 'the house that jack built.' and so, after all, it is to you we owe this discovery, tom." "well, that's one way of getting at it," said tom, laughing. "but, come on! let's pick out our line and get to work." "this won't be so much of a job," he remarked, when we had gone over the ground. "you ought to make quick work of it. we'll follow the wet mark left by the overflow, throw all these rocks out of the way, and then pitch in and cut our trench. come on, now; let's begin at once. phil, you throw aside all the rocks you can lift; joe, take the sledge and crack all those too heavy to handle; i'll take the single-hand drill and hammer and put some shots into the big ones. now, boys, blaze away, and let's see how much of a mark we can make before sunset." blaze away we did! never before had joe and i worked so hard for so long a stretch; not a minute did we lose, except on those four or five occasions when tom, having put down a hole into one of the large pieces, called out to us to get to cover, when, running for shelter, we crouched behind some friendly rock until a sharp, cracking explosion told us that another of the big obstructions was out of the way. so hard did we work, in fact, and so systematically, that by sunset we had cleared a path six feet wide. there remained only one more of the big rocks to break up, and into this tom put a three-foot hole, which he charged and tamped, when, sending us ahead to hitch up the horse, he touched off the fuse, the explosion following just as we started homeward. "a great day's work, boys!" cried tom. "if it wasn't for the training you've had all winter handling rocks, you never could have done it. there is a good chance now, i think, of getting the trench cut before wednesday evening. i'll work with you all day to-morrow--i must get back to my camp then--and that will leave you two days and a half to finish up the job. you ought to do it if you keep hard at it." by sunrise next morning we were at it again, working under tom's direction, in the same systematic manner. "take the sledge, joe," said he, "and crack up the fragments of that big rock we shot to pieces last night. phil, you and i will put down our first hole, beginning here at the crevice and working upward. now! let's get to work!" tom and i, therefore, went to work with drill and hammer, tom taking the larger share of the striking; for though the swinging of the seven-pound hammer is the harder part of the work, the turning of the drill is the more particular, and as our instructor justly remarked, it was as well i should have all the practice i could get while he was on hand to superintend. the hole being deep enough, tom made me load and tamp it with my own hands, using black powder, which, though perhaps less effective for this particular kind of work than giant powder would have been, he regarded as safer for novices like ourselves to handle. our first shot broke out the rock in very good style, and then, while i busied myself cracking up the big pieces and throwing them aside, joe took my place. the second hole was loaded and tamped by joe, under tom's supervision; after which my partner once more took the sledge, while i turned drill again. in this order we worked all day, making, before quitting time, such encouraging progress that we felt very hopeful of getting the task completed before my father's return. tom having fairly started us, went back to his camp on lincoln, leaving joe and me to continue the work by ourselves; and sorely did we miss our expert miner when, on the monday morning, we returned to the crater. though we kept steadily at it all day, our progress was noticeably slower than it had been the first day, for, besides the fact that there were only two of us, and those the least skilful, as we ascended towards the stream each hole was a little deeper than the last, each charge a little stronger, and each shot blew out a greater amount of rock to be broken up and cast aside. nevertheless, we made very satisfactory headway, and continuing our work the next two days with unabated energy and some increase of skill with every hole we put down, we made such progress that by two o'clock on the wednesday afternoon there remained but three feet of rock to be shot out to make connection with the channel. i was for blasting this out forthwith, but joe on the other hand suggested that we trim up our trench a little before turning in the water; for, hitherto, we had merely thrown out the loose pieces, and there were in consequence many projections and jagged corners both in the sides and bottom of our proposed water-course. these we attacked with sledge and crowbar, and in two hours or so had them pretty well cleared out of the way, when we went to work putting down our last hole. as we wanted to make a sure thing of it, we sank this hole rather deeper than any of the others, charging it with an extra allowance of powder. then, the tools having been removed, i touched off the fuse and ran for shelter behind the big rock where joe was already crouching, making himself as small as possible. presently there was a tremendous bang! rocks of every size and shape were flung broadcast all over the crater--some of them coming down uncomfortably close to our hiding-place--but as soon as the clatter ceased, up we both jumped and ran to see the result. nothing could have been better. our last shot had torn a great hole, extending across almost the whole width of the old channel, and our trench being six inches or more below the original level, the whole stream at once rushed into it, leaving its former bed high and dry. "hooray, for us!" shouted joe. "come on, phil! let us run down and see it go into the cañon." away we went; but as the crater-side was pretty steep we had to descend with some caution; whereas the water, having no neck to break, went down headlong. the consequence was that the stream beat us to the cañon by a hundred yards, and by the time we arrived it was pouring over the edge in a sixty-foot cascade. we were in time, however, to see a wall of foam flying down the cañon; a sight which, while it delighted us, at the same time gave us something of a start. "joe!" i cried. "how about our bridge?" "pht!" joe whistled. "i never thought of it. it will go out, i'm afraid. let us get down there at once." off we ran to where our horse was standing, eating hay out of the back of the buckboard, threw on the harness, hitched him up, and scrambling in, one on either side, away we went as fast as we dared over the uneven, rocky stretch of the mesa which lay between us and home. the course of the stream being more circuitous than the one we took across country, we beat the water down to the ranch; but only by a few seconds. we had hardly reached the bridge when the swollen stream leaped into the pool in such volume that i felt convinced it would sweep it clear of all the sand in it whether black or yellow; rushed under the bridge, and went tearing down the valley--a sight to see! luckily the creek-bed was fairly wide and straight, so that the banks did not suffer much. as to the bridge, the stringers being very long and well set, and the floor being composed of stout poles roughly squared and firmly spiked down, it did not go out, though the water came squirting up between the poles in a way which made us fear it might tear them loose at any moment. to prevent this, we ran quickly to the stable, harnessed up the mules to the wood-sled, loaded the sled with some of our big flat lava-rocks, and driving back to the bridge, we laid these rocks upon the ends of the poles, leaving a causeway between them wide enough for the passage of a wagon. we had just finished this piece of work, when we heard a rattle of wheels, and looking up the road we saw coming down the hill an express-wagon, driven by sam tobin, a san remo liveryman, and in the wagon sat my father and mother. "why, what's all this?" cried the former, as the driver pulled up on the far side of the bridge. "where does all this water come from?" then did the pent-up excitement of the past week burst forth. the flood of water going under the bridge was a trifle compared with the flood of words we poured out upon my bewildered parents; both of us talking at the same time, interrupting each other at every turn, explaining each other's explanations, and tumbling over each other, as it were, in our eagerness. all the details of the strenuous days since the snow-slide came down--the discovery of the big reuben, the recovery of the stolen ore, and above all the heading-off of the underground stream--were set forth with breathless volubility; so that if the hearers were a little dazed by the recital and a trifle confused as to the particulars, it was not to be wondered at. one thing, at least, was clear to them: we had found and turned the underground stream; and when he understood that, my father leaped from the wagon, and shaking hands with both of us at once, he cried: "boys, you certainly _have_ done a stroke of work! if it had taken you a year instead of a week it would have been more than worth the labor. as to its actual money value, it is hard to judge yet; but whether that shall turn out to be much or little, there is one thing sure:--we have our work cut out for us for years to come--a grand thing by itself for all of us. and now, let us go on up to the house: sam tobin wants to get back home as soon as possible." this the driver was able to do at once, for the livery horses, frightened by the water which came spurting up through the floor of the bridge, declined to cross, so joe and i, taking out the trunk, placed it on the wood-sled and thus drew it up to the house. as we walked along, my mother said: "so the hermit has been staying with you, has he? and what sort of a man _is_ your wild man now you've caught him?" "he isn't a wild man at all," cried joe, somewhat indignantly. "he's a fine fellow--isn't he, phil? he has been of great help to us these last few days. we could never have finished our trench in time if he hadn't taken the chores off our hands. he is in the kitchen now, getting the supper ready. i'll run and bring him out." so saying, joe ran forward--we others walking on more leisurely--and as we approached the house the pair came out of the front door side by side. in spite of joe's assurance to the contrary, my parents still had in their minds the idea that any one going by the name of "peter, the hermit" must be a rough, hirsute, unkempt specimen of humanity. great was their surprise, therefore, when peter, always clean and tidy, his hair and beard neatly trimmed in honor of their return, issued from the doorway, looking, with his clear gray eyes, his ruddy complexion and his spare, erect figure, remarkably young and alert. there was an added heartiness in their welcome, therefore, when joe proudly introduced him; and though peter threw out hints about sleeping in the hay-loft that night and taking himself off the first thing in the morning, my mother scouted the idea, telling him how she had long desired to make his acquaintance, and intimating that she should take it as a very poor compliment to herself if he should run off the moment she got home. so peter, set quite at his ease, said no more about it, but went back into the kitchen, whence he presently issued again to announce that supper was ready. a very hearty and a very merry supper it was, too, and long and animated was the talk which followed, as we sat before the open fire that evening. "i feel almost bewildered," said my father, "when i think of the amount and the variety of the work we have before us; it is astonishing that the turning of that stream should carry with it so many consequences, as i foresee it will--that and tom connor's strike." "there's no end to it!" cried joe, jumping out of his chair, striding up and down the room, and, for the last time in this history, rumpling his hair in his excitement. "there's no end to it! there's the hay-corral to enlarge--rock hauling all winter for you and me, phil! we shall need a new ice-pond; for this new water-supply won't freeze up in winter like the old one did! then, when the 'forty rods' dries up, there will be the extension of our ditches down there; besides making a first-class road to bring all the travel our way--plenty of work in that, too! then, when we bring the old lake-benches under cultivation, there will be new headgates needed and two new ditches to lay out, besides breaking the ground! then----oh, what's the use? there's no end to it--just no end to it!" joe was quite right. there was, and there still seems to be, no end to it. * * * * * the effect of tom connor's strike on mount lincoln was just what my father had predicted: our whole district took a great stride forward; the mountains swarmed with prospectors; the town of sulphide hummed with business; our new friend, yetmore, doing a thriving trade, while our old friend, mrs. appleby, followed close behind, a good second. as for tom, himself, he is one of our local capitalists now, but he is the same old tom for all that. just as he used to do when he was poor, so he continues to do now he is rich: any tale of distress will empty his pocket on the spot. though my father remonstrates with him sometimes, tom only laughs and remarks that it is no use trying to teach old dogs new tricks; and moreover he does not see why he should not spend his money to suit himself. and so he goes his own way, more than satisfied with the knowledge that every man, woman and child in the district counts tom connor as a friend. the fate of those two poor ore-thieves was so horrible that i hesitate to mention it. it was six months later that a prospector on one of the northern spurs of lincoln came upon two dead bodies. one, a club-footed man, had been shot through the head; the other, unmistakably long john, was lying on his back, an empty revolver beside him, and one foot caught in a bear-trap. though the truth will never be known, the presumption is that, setting the stolen trap in a deer run in the hope of catching a deer, they had got into a quarrel; clubfoot, striking at his companion, had caused him to step backward into the trap, when, in his pain and rage, long john had whipped out his revolver and shot the other. what his own fate must have been is too dreadful to contemplate. and the crawford ranch? well, the crawford ranch is the busiest place in the county. peter, for whom my parents, like ourselves, took a great liking, quickly thawed out under my mother's influence, and related to us briefly the reason for his having taken to his solitary life. he had been a school-teacher in denver, but losing his wife and two children in an accident, he had fled from the place and had hidden himself up in our mountains, where for several years he had spent a lonely existence with no company but old socrates. now, however, his house destroyed and his mountain overrun with prospectors, he needed little inducement to abandon his old hermit-life; and accepting gladly my father's suggestion that he stay and work on the ranch, he built for himself a good log cabin up near the waterfall, and there he and socrates took up their residence. there was plenty of work for him and for all of us--indeed, for the first two years there was almost more than we could do. it took that length of time for the "forty rods" to drain off thoroughly, but by the middle of the third summer we were cutting hay upon it; the ore wagons from sulphide and from the big reuben were passing through in a continuous stream; the stage-coach was coming our way; the old hill road was abandoned. in fact, everybody is busy, and more than busy--with one single exception. the only loafer on the place is old sox--tolerated on account of his advanced age. that veteran, whose love of mischief and whose unfailing impudence would lead any stranger to suppose he had but just come out of the egg, spends most of his time strutting about the ranch, stealing the food of the dogs and chickens; awing them into submission by his supernatural gift of speech. and as though that were not enough, his crop distended with his pilferings to the point of bursting, he comes unabashed to the kitchen door and blandly requests my mother, of all people, to give him a chew of tobacco! but the mail-coach has just gone through, and i hear joe shouting for me; i must run. "yetmore wants fifty-hundred of oats, phil," he calls out. "you and i are to take it up. we must dig out at once if we are to get back to-night. to-morrow we break ground on our new ditches. a month or more of good stiff work for us, old chap!" he rubs his hands in anticipation; for the bigger he grows--and he has grown into a tremendous fellow now--the more work he wants. there is no satisfying him. we have been very fortunate, wonderfully fortunate; but i am inclined to set apart as pre-eminently our lucky day that one in the summer of ' , when young joe garnier, the blacksmith's apprentice, stopped at our stable-door to ask for work! the end _by amy e. blanchard_ war of the revolution series the books comprising this series have become well known among the girls and are alike chosen by readers themselves, by parents and by teachers on account of their value from the historical standpoint, their purity of style and their interest in general. _a girl of ' _ about colonial boston. pp. it is one of the best stories of old boston and its vicinity which has ever been written. its value as real history and as an incentive to further study can hardly be overestimated. _a revolutionary maid_ a story of the middle period in the war for independence. pp. no better material could be found for a story than the new jersey campaign, the battle of germantown, and the winter at valley forge. miss blanchard has made the most of a large opportunity and produced a happy companion volume to "a girl of ' ." _a daughter of freedom_ a story of the latter period of the war for independence. pp. in this story the south supplies the scenery, and good use is made of the familiar fact that a family often was divided in its allegiance. it is romantic but not sensational, well-written and rich in entertainment. war of series this period is divided into two historical volumes for girls, the one upon the early portion describing the causes, etc., of the war, the latter showing the strife along the northern border. _a heroine of _ a maryland romance. pp. this maryland romance is of the author's best; strong in historical accuracy and intimate knowledge of the locality. its characters are of marked individuality, and there are no dull or weak spots in the story. _a loyal lass._ a story of the niagara campaign of . pp. this volume shows the intense feeling that existed all along the border line between the united states and canada, and as was the case in our civil war even divided families fought on opposite sides during this contest. it is a sweet and wholesome romance. each volume fully illustrated. price, $ . w. a. wilde company,--boston and chicago transcriber's note: minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent. cowboy dave or the round-up at rolling river by frank v. webster author of "only a farm boy," "bob the castaway," "comrades of the saddle," "airship andy," "tom taylor at west point," etc. illustrated books for boys by frank v. webster only a farm boy tom, the telephone boy the boy from the ranch the young treasurer hunter bob, the castaway the young firemen of lakeville the newsboy partners the boy pilot of the lakes the two boy gold miners jack, the runaway comrades of the saddle the boys of bellwood school the high school rivals bob chester's grit airship andy darry, the life saver dick, the bank boy ben hardy's flying machine the boys of the wireless harry watson's high school days the boy scouts of lenox tom taylor at west point cowboy dave the boys of the battleship jack of the pony express cowboy dave contents i. after stray cattle ii. the taunt iii. a confession iv. a small stampede v. treachery vi. a cry for help vii. the rescue viii. mr. bellmore ix. dave meets len x. dave wonders xi. hazardous work xii. the fight xiii. some news xiv. a warning xv. retaliation xvi. unavailing efforts xvii. the round-up xviii. a midnight blaze xix. fighting fire xx. the chase xxi. the escape xxii. tangles xxiii. the clue xxiv. brothers xxv. the new ranch [illustration: he wheeled and rode straight at the oncoming steers] chapter i after stray cattle "hi! yi! yip!" "woo-o-o-o! wah! zut!" "here we come!" what was coming seemed to be a thunderous cloud of dust, from the midst of which came strange, shrill sounds, punctuated with sharp cries, that did not appear to be altogether human. the dust-cloud grew thicker, the thunder sounded louder, and the yells were shriller. from one of a group of dull, red buildings a sun-bronzed man stepped forth. he shaded his eyes with a brown, powerful hand, gazed for an instant toward the approaching cloud of animated and vociferous dust and, turning to a smiling chinese who stood near, with a pot in his hand, remarked in a slow, musical drawl: "well hop loy, here they are, rip-roarin' an' snortin' from th' round-up!" "alle samee hungly, too," observed the celestial with unctious blandness. "you can sure make a point of that hop loy," went on the other. "hungry is their middle name just now, and you'd better begin t' rustle th' grub, or i wouldn't give an empty forty-five for your pig-tail." "oi la!" fairly screamed the chinese, as, with a quick gesture toward his long queue, he scuttled toward the cook house, which stood in the midst of the other low ranch buildings. "glub leady alle samee light now!" hop loy cried over his shoulder. "it better be!" ominously observed pocus pete, foreman of the bar u ranch, one of the best-outfitted in the rolling river section. "it better be! those boys mean business, or i miss my guess," the foreman went on. "hard work a-plenty, i reckon. wonder how they made out?" he went on musingly as he started back toward the bunk house, whence he had come with a saddle strap to which he was attaching a new buckle. "if things don't take a turn for th' better soon, there won't any of us make out," and, with a gloomy shake of his head, pocus pete, to give him the name he commonly went by, tossed the strap inside the bunk house, and went on toward the main building, where, by virtue of his position as head of the cowboys, he had his own cot. meanwhile the crowd of yelling, hard-riding sand dust-stirring punchers, came on faster than ever. "hi! yi! yip!" "here we come!" "keep th' pot a-bilin'! we've got our appetites with us!" "that's what!" some one fired his big revolver in the air, and in another moment there was an echo of many shots, the sharp crack of the forty-fives mingling with the thunder of hoofs, the yells, and the clatter of stirrup leathers. "the boys coming back, pete?" asked an elderly man, who came to the door of the main living room of the principal ranch house. "yes, mr. carson, they're comin' back, an' it don't need a movin' picture operator an' telegraphic despatch t' tell it, either." "no, pete. they seem to be in good spirits, too." "yes, they generally are when they get back from round-up. i want to hear how they made out, though, an' what th' prospects are." "so do i, pete," and there was an anxious note in the voice of mr. randolph carson, owner of the bar u ranch. matters had not been going well with him, of late. with final yells, and an increase in the quantity of dust tossed up as the cowboys pulled their horses back on their haunches, the range-riding outfit of the ranch came to rest, not far away from the stable. the horses, with heaving sides and distended nostrils that showed a deep red, hung their heads from weariness. they had been ridden hard, but not unmercifully, and they would soon recover. the cowboys themselves tipped back their big hats from their foreheads, which showed curiously white in contrast to their bronzed faces, and beat the dust from their trousers. a few of them wore sheepskin chaps. one after another the punchers slung their legs across the saddle horns, tossed the reins over the heads of their steeds, as an intimation that the horses were not to stray, and then slid to the ground, walking with that peculiarly awkward gait that always marks one who has spent much of his life in the saddle. "grub ready, hop loy?" demanded one lanky specimen, as he used his blue neck kerchief to remove some of the dust and sweat from his brown face. "it better be!" added another, significantly; while still another said, quietly: "my gal has been askin' me for a long, long time to get her a chinaman's pig-tail, an' i'm shore goin' t'get one now if i don't have my grub right plenty, an' soon!" "now you're talkin'!" cried a fourth, with emphasis. there was no need of saying anything further. the celestial had stuck his head out of the cook house to hear these ominous words of warning, and now, with a howl of anguish, he drew it inside again, wrapping his queue around his neck. then followed a frantic rattling of pots and pans. "you shore did get him goin', tubby!" exclaimed a tall, lanky cowboy, to a short and squatty member of the tribe. "well, i aimed to skinny," was the calm reply. "i am some hungry." the last of the cowboys to alight was a manly youth, who might have been in the neighborhood of eighteen or nineteen years of age. he was tall and slight, with a frank and pleasing countenance, and his blue eyes looked at you fearlessly from under dark brows, setting off in contrast his sunburned face. had any one observed him as he rode up with the other cowboys, it would have been noticed that, though he was the youngest, he was one of the best riders. he advanced from among the others, pausing to pet his horse which stuck out a wet muzzle for what was evidently an expected caress. then the young man walked forward, with more of an air of grace than characterized his companions. evidently, though used to a horse, he was not so saddle-bound as were his mates. as he walked up to the ranch house he was met by mr. carson and pocus pete, both of whom looked at him rather eagerly and anxiously. "well, son," began the ranch owner, "how did you make out?" "pretty fair, dad," was the answer. "there were more cattle than you led us to expect, and there were more strays than we calculated on. in fact we didn't get near all of them." "is that so, dave?" asked pocus pete, quickly. "whereabouts do you reckon them strays is hidin'?" "the indications are they're up forked branch way. that's where we got some, and we saw more away up the valley, but we didn't have time to go for them, as we had a little trouble; and tubby and the others thought we'd better come on, and go back for the strays to-morrow." "trouble, dave?" asked mr. carson, looking up suddenly. "well, not much, though it might have been. we saw some men we took to be rustlers heading for our bunch of cattle, but they rode off when we started for them. some of the boys wanted to follow but it looked as though it might storm, and tubby said we'd better move the bunch while we could, and look after the rustlers and strays later." "yes, i guess that was best," the ranch owner agreed. "but where were these rustlers from, dave?" "hard to say, dad. looked to be mexicans." "i reckon that'd be about right," came from pocus pete. "we'll have to be on th' watch, mr. carson." "i expect so, pete. things aren't going so well that i can afford to lose any cattle. but about these strays, dave. do you think we'd better get right after them?" "i should say so, dad." "think there are many of them?" "not more than two of us could drive in. i'll go to-morrow with one of the men. i know just about where to look for them." "all right, dave. if you're not too much done out i'd like to have you take a hand." "done out, dad! don't you think i'm making a pretty good cowpuncher?" "that's what he is, mr. carson, for a fact!" broke in pete, with admiration. "i'd stake cowboy dave ag'in' any man you've got ridin' range to-day. that's what i would!" "thanks, pete," said the youth, with a warm smile. "well, that's the truth, dave. you took to this business like a duck takes to water, though the land knows there ain't any too much water in these parts for ducks." "yes, we could use more, especially at this season," mr. carson admitted. "rolling river must be getting pretty dry; isn't it, dave?" "i've seen it wetter, dad. and there's hardly any water in forked branch. i don't see how the stray cattle get enough to drink." "it is queer they'd be off up that way," observed pete. "but that might account for it," he went on, as though communing with himself. "account for what?" asked dave, as he sat down in a chair on the porch. "th' rustlers. if they were up forked branch way they'd stand between th' strays and th' cattle comin' down where they could get plenty of water in rolling river. that's worth lookin' into. i'll ride up that way with you to-morrow, dave, an' help drive in them cattle." "will you, pete? that will be fine!" the young cowboy exclaimed. evidently there was a strong feeling of affection between the two. dave looked to mr. carson for confirmation. "very well," the ranch owner said, "you and pete may go, dave. but don't take any chances with the rustlers if you encounter them." "we're not likely to," said pocus pete, significantly. from the distant cook house came the appetizing odor of food and dave sniffed the air eagerly. "hungry?" asked mr. carson. "that's what i am, dad!" "well, eat heartily, get a good rest, and tomorrow you can try your hand at driving strays." evening settled down over the bar u ranch; a calm, quiet evening, in spite of the earlier signs of a storm. in the far west a faint intermittent light showed where the elements were raging, but it was so far off that not even the faintest rumble of thunder came over rolling river, a stream about a mile distant, on the banks of which were now quartered the cattle which the cowboys had recently rounded up for shipment. the only sounds that came with distinctness were the occasional barking and baying of a dog, as he saw the rising moon, and the dull shuffle of the shifting cattle, which were being guarded by several cowboys who were night-riding. very early the next morning dave carson and pocus pete, astride their favorite horses, and carrying with them a substantial lunch, set off after the strays which had been dimly observed the day before up forked branch way. this was one of the tributaries of rolling river, the valley of which was at one time one of the most fertile sections of the largest of our western cattle states. the tributary divided into two parts, or branches, shortly above its junction with rolling river. hence its name. forked branch came down from amid a series of low foot-hills, forming the northern boundary of mr. randolph carson's ranch. "we sure have one fine day for ridin'," observed pocus pete, as he urged his pony up alongside dave's. "that's right," agreed the youth. for several miles they rode on, speaking but seldom, for a cowboy soon learns the trick of silence--it is so often forced on him. as they turned aside to take a trail that led to forked branch, dave, who was riding a little ahead, drew rein. instinctively pocus pete did the same, and then dave, pointing to the front, asked: "is that a man or a cow?" chapter ii the taunt pocus pete shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed long and earnestly in the direction indicated by dave carson. the two cow-ponies, evidently glad of the little rest, nosed about the sun-baked earth for some choice morsel of grass. "it might be either--or both," pete finally said. "either or both?" repeated dave. "how can that be?" "don't you see two specks there, dave? look ag'in." dave looked. his eyes were younger and perhaps, therefore, sharper than were those of the foreman of bar u ranch, but dave lacked the training that long years on the range had given the other. "yes, i do see two," the youth finally said, "but i can't tell which is which." "i'm not altogether sure myself," pete said, quietly and modestly. "we'll ride a little nearer," he suggested, "an' then we can tell for sure. i guess we're on th' track of some strays all right." "some strays, pete? you mean our strays; don't you?" questioned dave. "well, some of 'em 'll be, probably," was the quiet answer. "but you've got t' remember, dave, that there's a point of land belongin' t' centre o ranch that comes up there along the forked branch trail. it may be some of molick's strays." "that's so. i didn't think of that, pete. there's more to this business than appears at first sight." "yes, dave; but you're comin' on first-rate. i was a leetle opposed to th' old man sendin' you east to study, for fear it would knock out your natural instincts. but when you picked up that man as soon as you did," and he waved his hand toward the distant specks, "when you did that, i know you've not been spoiled, an' that there's hope for you." "that's good, pete!" and dave laughed. "yes, i didn't agree with th' old man at first," the foreman went on, "but i see he didn't make any mistake." mr. carson was the "old man" referred to, but it was not at all a term of disrespect as applied to the ranch owner. it was perfectly natural to pete to use that term, and dave did not resent it. "yes, i'm glad dad did send me east," the young man went on, as they continued on their way up the trail. "i was mighty lonesome at first, and i felt--well, cramped, pete. that's the only way to express it." "i know how you felt, dave. there wasn't room to breathe in th' city." "that's the way i felt. out here it--it's different." he straightened up in the saddle, and drew in deep breaths of the pure air of the plains; an air so pure and thin, so free from mists, that the very distances were deceiving, and one would have been positive that the distant foot-hills were but half an hour's ride away, whereas the better part of a day must be spent in reaching them. "yes, this is livin'--that's what it is," agreed pocus pete. "you can make them out a little better now, dave," and he nodded his head in the direction of the two distant specks. they were much larger now. "it's a chap on a horse, and he's going in the same direction we are," dave said, after a moment's observation. "that's right. and it ain't every cowpuncher on bar u who could have told that." "i can see two--three--why, there are half a dozen cattle up there pete." "yes, an' probably more. i reckon some of th' centre o outfit has strayed, same as ours. that's probably one of molick's men after his brand," pete went on. the bar u ranch (so called because the cattle from it were branded with a large u with a straight mark across the middle) adjoined, on the north, the ranch of jason molick, whose cattle were marked with a large o in the centre of which was a single dot, and his brand consequently, was known as centre o. "maybe that's len," suggested dave, naming the son of the adjoining ranch owner. "it may be. i'd just as soon it wouldn't be, though. len doesn't always know how to keep a civil tongue in his head." "that's right, pete. i haven't much use for len myself." "you an' he had some little fracas; didn't you?" "oh, yes, more than once." "an' you tanned him good and proper, too; didn't you dave?" asked the foreman with a low chuckle. "yes, i did." dave did not seem at all proud of his achievement. "but that was some time ago," he added. "i haven't seen len lately." "well, you haven't missed an awful lot," said pete, dryly. the two rode on in silence again, gradually coming nearer and nearer to the specks which had so enlarged themselves, by reason of the closing up of the intervening distance, until they could be easily distinguished as a number of cattle and one lone rider. the latter seemed to be making his way toward the animals. "is he driving them ahead of him?" asked dave, after a long and silent observation. "that's the way it looks," said pocus pete. "it's len molick all right," he added, after another shading of his eyes with his hand. "are you sure?" dave asked. "positive. no one around here rides a horse in that sloppy way but him." "then he must have found some of his father's strays, and is taking them to the ranch." "i'm not so sure of that," pete said. "not so sure of what?" "that the cattle are all his strays. i wouldn't be a bit surprised but what some of ours had got mixed up with 'em. things like that have been known to happen you know." "do you' think---" began dave. "i'm not goin' to take any chances thinkin'," pete said significantly. "i'm going to make sure." "look here, dave," he went on, spurring his pony up alongside of the young cowboy's. "my horse is good an fresh an' len's doesn't seem to be in such good condition. probably he's been abusin' it as he's done before. now i can take this side trail, slip around through the bottom lands, an' get ahead of him." "but it's a hard climb up around the mesa, pete." "i know it. but i can manage it. then you come on up behind len, casual like. if he has any of our cattle--by mistake," said pete, significantly, "we'll be in a position to correct his error. nothin' like correctin' errors right off the reel, dave. well have him between two fires, so to speak." "all right, pete. i'll ride up behind him, as i'm doing now, and you'll head him off; is that it?" "that's it. you guessed it first crack out of th' box. if nothin's wrong, why we're all right; we're up this way to look after our strays. and if somethin' is wrong, why we'll be in a position to correct it--that's all." "i see." there was a smile on dave's face as his cowboy partner, with a wave of his hand, turned his horse into a different trail, speeding the hardy little pony up so as to get ahead of len molick. dave rode slowly on, busy with many thoughts, some of which had to do with the youth before him. len molick was about dave's own age, that is apparently, for, strange as it may seem, dave was not certain of the exact number of years that had passed over his head. it was evident that he was about eighteen or nineteen. he had recently felt a growing need of a razor, and the hair on his face was becoming wiry. but once, when he asked randolph carson, about a birthday, the ranch owner had returned an evasive answer. "i don't know exactly when your birthday does come, dave," he had said. "your mother, before she--before she died, kept track of that. in fact i sometimes forget when my own is. i think yours is in may or june, but for the life of me i can't say just which month. it doesn't make a lot of difference, anyhow." "no, dad, not especially. but just how old am i?" "well, dave, there you've got me again. i think it's around eighteen. but your mother kept track of that, too. i never had the time. put it down at eighteen, going on nineteen, and let it go at that. now say, about that last bunch of cattle we shipped--" thus the ranchman would turn the subject. not that dave gave the matter much thought, only now, somehow or other, the question seemed to recur with increased force. "funny i don't know just when my birthday is," he mused. "but then lots of the cowboys forget theirs." the trail was smooth at this point, and dave soon found himself close to len, who was driving ahead of him a number of cattle. with a start of surprise dave saw two which bore the bar u brand. "hello, len," he called. len molick turned with a start. either he had not heard dave approach, or he had pretended ignorance. "well, what do yon want?" demanded the surly bully. "oh, out after strays, as you are," said dave, coolly. "guess your cattle and ours have struck up an acquaintance," he added, with assumed cheerfulness. "what do you mean?" "i mean they're traveling along together just as if they belonged to the same outfit." "huh! i can't help it, can i, if your cows tag along with our strays?" demanded len with a sneer. "that's what i'm here for--to help prevent it," dave went on, and his voice was a trifle sharp. "the bar u ranch can't afford to lose any strays these days," he resumed. "the carson outfit needs all it can get, and, as representative of the carson interests i'll just cut out those strays of ours, len, and head them the other way." "huh! what right have you got to do it?" "what right? why my father sent me to gather up our strays. i saw some of them up here yesterday." "your father?" the sneer in len's voice was unmistakable. "yes, of course," said dave, wondering what was the matter with len. "my father, randolph carson." "he isn't your father!" burst out len in angry tones. "and you aren't his son! you're a nameless picked-up nobody, that's what you are! a nobody! you haven't even a name!" and with this taunt on his lips len spurred his horse away from dave's. chapter iii a confession something seemed to strike dave carson a blow in the face. it was as though he had suddenly plunged into cold water, and, for the moment, he could not get his breath. the sneering words of len molick rang in his ears: "you're a nameless, picked-up nobody!" having uttered those cruel words, len was riding on, driving before him some of his father's stray cattle, as well as some belonging to the bar u ranch. the last act angered dave, and anger, at that moment, was just what was needed to arouse him from the lethargy in which he found himself. it also served, in a measure, to clear away some of the unpleasant feeling caused by the taunt. "hold on there a minute, len molick!" called dave, sharply. len never turned his head, and gave no sign of hearing. a dull red spot glowed in each of dave's tanned cheeks. with a quick intaking of his breath he lightly touched the spurs to his horse--lightly, for that was all the intelligent beast needed. dave passed his taunting enemy on the rush, and planting himself directly in front of him on the trail, drew rein so sharply that his steed reared. the cows, scattered by the sudden rush, ambled awkwardly on a little distance, and then stopped to graze. "what do you mean by getting in my way?" growled len. "i mean to have you stop and answer a few questions," was the calm retort. "if it's about these cattle i tell you i'm not trying to drive off any of yours," said len, in whining tones. he knew the severe penalty attached to this in a cow country, and dave was sufficiently formidable, as he sat easily on his horse facing the bully, to make len a little more respectful. "i'm not going to ask you about these cattle--at least not right away," dave went on. "this is about another matter. you said something just now that needs explaining." "i say a good many things," len admitted, and again there sounded in his voice a sneer. "i don't have to explain to you everything i say; do i?" "you do when it concerns me," and dave put his horse directly across the trail, which, at this point narrowed and ran between two low ranges of hills. "you said something about me just now--you called me a nameless, picked-up nobody!" dave could not help wincing as he repeated the slur. "well, what if i did?" demanded the bully. "i want to know what you mean. you insinuated that mr. carson was not my father." "he isn't!" "why do you say that, and how do you know?" dave asked. in spite of his dislike of len, and the knowledge that the bully was not noted for truth-telling, dave could not repress a cold chill of fear that seemed to clutch his heart. "i say that because it's so, and how i know it is none of your affair," retorted len. "oh yes, it is my affair, too!" dave exclaimed. he was fast regaining control of himself. "it is very much my affair. i demand an explanation. how do you know mr. carson isn't my father?" "well, i know all right. he picked you up somewhere. he doesn't know what your name is himself. he just let you use his, and he called you dave. you're a nobody i tell you!" dave spurred his horse until it was close beside that of len's. then leaning over in the saddle, until his face was very near to that of the bully's, and with blazing eyes looking directly into the shrinking ones of the other rancher's son, dave said slowly, but with great emphasis: "who--told--you?" there was menace in his tone and attitude, and len shrank back. "oh, don't be afraid!" dave laughed mirthlessly. "i'm not going to strike you--not now." "you--you'd better not," len muttered. "i want you first to answer my questions," dave went on. "after that i'll see what happens. it's according to how much truth there is in what you have said." "oh, it's true all right," sneered the bully. "then i demand to know who told you!" dave's hand shot out and grasped the bridle of the other's horse, and len's plan of flight was frustrated. "let me go!" he whiningly demanded. "not until you tell me who said i am a nobody--that mr. carson is not my father," dave said, firmly. "i--i----" began the shrinking len, when the sound of another horseman approaching caused both lads to turn slightly in their saddles. dave half expected to see pocus pete, but he beheld the not very edifying countenance of whitey wasson, a tow-headed cowpuncher belonging to the centre o outfit. whitey and len were reported to be cronies, and companions in more than one not altogether pleasant incident. "oh, here you are; eh; len?" began whitey. "and i see you've got the strays." "yes, i've got 'em," said len, shortly. "any trouble?" went on whitey, with a quick glance at dave. the position of the two lads--dave with his hand grasping len's bridle--was too significant to be overlooked. "trouble?" began len. "well, he--he--" "he made a certain statement concerning me," dave said, quietly, looking from len to whitey, "and i asked him the source of his information. that is all." "what did he say?" "he said i was a nameless, picked-up nobody, and that mr. carson was not my father. i asked him how he knew, and he said some one told him that." "so he did!" exclaimed len. "then i demand to know who it was!" cried dave. for a moment there was silence, and then whitey wasson, with a chuckle said: "i told len myself!" "you did?" cried dave. "yes, he did! now maybe you won't be so smart!" sneered len. "let go my horse!" he cried, roughly, as he swung the animal to one side. but no force was needed; as dave's nerveless hand fell away from the bridle. he seemed shocked--stunned again. "you--you--how do you know?" he demanded fiercely, raising his sinking head, and looking straight at whitey. "oh, i know well enough. lots of the cowboys do. it isn't so much of a secret as you think. if you don't believe me ask your father--no, he ain't your father--but ask the old man himself. just ask him what your name is, and where you came from, and see what he says." whitey was sneering now, and he chuckled as he looked at len. dave's face paled beneath his tan, and he did not answer. a nameless, picked-up nobody! how the words stung! and he had considered himself, proudly considered himself, the son of one of the best-liked, best-known and most upright cattle raisers of the rolling river country. now who was he? "come on, len," said whitey. "if you've got the strays we'll drive them back. been out long enough as 'tis." he wheeled his horse, len doing the same, and they started after the straying cattle. "hold on there, if you please," came in a drawling voice. "jest cut out them bar u steers before you mosey off any farther, whitey," and riding around a little hillock came pocus pete. "um!" grunted whitey. "guess you'll be needin' a pair of specks, won't you, whitey?" went on the bar u foreman, without a glance at len or dave. "a centre o brand an' a bar u looks mighty alike to a feller with poor eyes i reckon," and he smiled meaningly. "oh, we can't help it, if some of the randolph cattle get mixed up with our strays," said len. "who's talkin' to you?" demanded pocus pete, with such fierceness that the bully shrank back. "now you cut out what strays belong to you, an' let ours alone, mr. wasson," went on pocus pete with exaggerated politeness. "dave an' i can take care of our own i reckon. an' move quick, too!" he added menacingly. whitey did not answer, but he and len busied themselves in getting together their own strays. pocus pete and dave, with a little effort, managed to collect their own bunch, and soon the two parties were moving off in opposite directions. dave sat silent on his horse. pete glanced at him from time to time, but said nothing. finally, however, as they dismounted to eat their lunch, pete could not help asking: "have any trouble with them, dave?" "trouble? oh no." dave relapsed into silence, and pete shook his head in puzzled fashion. something had happened, but what, he could not guess. in unwonted silence dave and pete rode back to the bar u ranch, reaching it at dusk with the bunch of strays. they were turned in with the other cattle and then dave, turning his horse into the corral, walked heavily to the ranch house. all the life seemed to have gone from him. "well, son, did you get the bunch?" asked mr. carson as he greeted the youth. "yes--i did," was the low answer. mr. carson glanced keenly at the lad, and something he saw in his face caused the ranch owner to start. "was there any trouble?" he asked. it was the same question pocus pete had propounded. "well, len molick and whitey wasson had some of our cattle in with theirs." "they did?" "yes, but pete and i easily cut 'em out. but--oh, dad!" the words burst from dave's lips before he thought. "am i your son?" he blurted out. "len and whitey said i was a picked-up nobody! am i? am i not your son?" he held out his hands appealingly. a great and sudden change came over mr. carson. he seemed to grow older and more sorrowful. a sigh came from him. gently he placed one arm over the youth's drooping shoulders. "dave," he said gently. "i hoped this secret would never come out--that you would never know. but, since it has, i must tell you the truth. i love you as if you were my own son, but you are not a relative of mine." the words seemed to cut dave like a knife. "then if i am not your son, who am i?" dave asked in a husky voice. the ticking of the clock on the mantle could be plainly, yes, loudly heard, as mr. carson slowly answered in a low voice: "dave, i don't know!" chapter iv a small stampede dave carson--to use the name by which we must continue to call him, at least for a time--may have hoped for a different answer from the ranchman. doubtless he did so hope, but now he was doomed to disappointment, for the words of mr. carson seemed final. "dave, i don't know," he repeated. "i don't know who you are, who your parents are, or even what your name is. i wish i did!" dave sank down in a chair. he seemed crushed. mr. carson, too, was somewhat overcome. "there--there must be some explanation," said the lad at length, slowly. "there is," was the reply. "i'll tell you all i know. i suppose i should have done it before, but i have been putting it off, i hoped there would be no need. "i don't know just how len and whitey found it out," went on mr. carson. "if they had only kept still a little longer you might never have known, for i intended to go away from here soon." "go away from here, dad?" the endearing name slipped out before dave was aware of it. a surge of red sprang up into his cheeks, under their tan. "don't stop calling me that, dave," begged mr. carson in a low voice. "i have been a father to you--at least i've tried to be." "and you've succeeded," dave said, affectionately. "and i want to keep on in the same way," said the man, softly. "so don't stop calling me dad, dave. i--i couldn't bear that, even though i have no right to it. but you asked me a question just now. i'll answer that before i go on with the story. "i did plan to leave here. i'm not making this ranch go, dave, as i'd like to see it. i have been thinking of giving it up. but that was before i knew that my secret about you was known." "then you're not going now,--dad?" dave hesitated just a moment over the name. "no. it would look like desertion--cowardice--as if i went because this matter became known. it will get out soon enough now, since the molick outfit knows it. but that's just the reason i'm going to stick. i won't fly in the face of the enemy. i won't desert! "the real reason why i intended to go, though, dave, is because the ranch isn't making money enough. it is holding its own, but that is not enough. as you know, i was, up to a year or so ago, pretty well off. but those unfortunate cattle speculations pulled me down, so now i am really, what would be called poor, as ranchmen go. "but i'll make good!" declared the cattle owner. "i'm going to stick now, until something happens. it may be for the best, or it may be for the worst. but i'll stick until i'm fairly beaten! "the ranch needs more water, that's the main trouble. i haven't control of the water rights i need. i can't go into the cattle business on a large enough scale because of the lack of water. rolling river and forked branch, while well enough in their way, aren't big enough to stand the dry years. "that was the reason i was going to sell out, dave, but i'm not now. i'm going to stick. and now i'll tell you the secret concerning you--that is as much of it as i know. it isn't much, for i know so little myself, so you will not be much wiser than you are now." "won't i know who i am?" dave asked in a low voice. "no, dave, for i can't tell you myself. i wish i could. i wish i could either really find your parents, or know that i had a good legal claim on you. but that is impossible. "some years ago, dave, i was in business in missouri. i was doing fairly well, but i always had a hankering to get out west and raise cattle. i had lived on a ranch when i was a small lad--in fact all my people were ranchers--and i longed for the life of which i had had only a little taste. "so i planned to sell out, raise all the money i could, and buy a ranch. i had my plans all made when one spring there came a big flood that practically wiped out the town where i was then living, as well as a number of others along that part of the missouri river. there was rescue work to be done, and i did my share, i guess. "among the others whom i saved from the wreckage of houses, barns and other debris that rushed down the river was a little baby boy." dave caught his breath sharply. "you were that little chap, dave," went on the ranchman, after a pause. "as cute a little chap as i ever saw. i fell in love with you right away, and so did a number of women folks who were helping in the rescue work. they all wanted you, but i said if no one who had a legal claim on you came for you, that i would keep you. "and that's what happened. i could not find out where you came from, nor who your folks were, though i made many inquiries. i had been about to start for the west when the flood came, but i delayed a bit, wanting to give your parents, if they were alive, a fair show. but no one claimed you, so i brought you out west with me, and here we've been ever since, living just like father and son." "and do you think my parents are--are dead?" dave faltered. "i am afraid so," was the low answer. "there were many grown folk and children who perished in the flood. at any rate, dave, i have kept you ever since. "how this whitey wasson learned the secret i can not say. i did hope it would never be brought to your knowledge, though i made no effort, at the time i rescued you, to conceal the fact that i had, in a measure, adopted you. i suppose whitey must have heard the story from some one who was in the flooded missouri district at the time and who has since come west. "but that is how the matter stands. you are not really my son, though you are as dear to me as though you were. i hope this will make no difference to you--knowing this secret. i want you to continue living here just as you always have. in fact it would break my heart if you were to leave me after all these years. you will stay; won't you?" and he held out his hands appealingly. "why--yes," said dave, after a moment. "i have no other place to go. and i certainly owe you a deep debt of gratitude for your care of a nameless orphan for so many years." "don't say that, dave! don't call yourself nameless. you can have my name, and welcome! you know that. i want you to have it. i will legally adopt you if necessary. and as for owing me--don't name it! you were welcome to all i could do, and more. why, you have been like a son to me. i wouldn't know how to get along without you at the ranch here. you must stay!" "oh, yes, i'll stay," said dave. and then he added, with, perhaps, the least tinge of bitterness in his voice: "i have no where else to go." "then stay!" was the eager invitation. "i need you, dave! and if those skunks bother you any more--" "oh, i'm not worrying about them," dave said, quickly. "i don't mind their taunts. after all, it is no disgrace not to know who i am under the circumstances. perhaps, some day, i may find out." "perhaps," said mr. carson, softly, but he did not really believe that such an event would happen. "is that all you can tell about me--dad?" asked dave. "that's right! don't forget to call me dad!" exclaimed the ranchman, and his tone showed more delight than at any time since the talk. "for i am just the same as your father. but, dave, i'm afraid i can't give you any clews. you were only a baby at the time, and i don't even remember just now, much as to how you were dressed. you came down the flood in part of a wrecked house. you were in a cradle in the exposed upper story when i got you out. i was going around in a boat doing what rescue work i could. i turned you over to some women, temporarily, and claimed you later. that's about all there is to it. i came out west with you and--here we are now. and now, since the secret is out, i'm going to make it known to all who care to listen. there is no use trying to keep it under cover any more." "what do you mean, dad?" "i mean i'll tell every one connected with bar u ranch. we'll take the wind out of the sails of molick, wasson and their like. we won't have them sneering at us. i'll tell the men here." "i fancy pocus pete knows something about it," dave said. "he must have heard what whitey and len said to me." "well, we'll tell him the whole story. it's no disgrace." and this was done. soon all the cowboys on bar u ranch knew the story, and talk buzzed around concerning it. but no one thought the less of dave. in fact his friends and those of mr. carson were warmer than before. then the matter was tacitly dropped, and was never mentioned among the cowboys of bar u ranch. for a time the knowledge hurt dave cruelly. then he grew more accustomed to it. but though he called mr. carson "dad" there was more or less of reserve. and dave found himself many times, wondering who his real parents could be. "some day i may find out," he said. there was much to do at the ranch, from rounding up cattle, looking after strays and branding, to making shipments. dave found his time fully occupied, and he saw little of len and his crony. but one day len and dave had a "run-in." dave, who was riding range, came upon len in the act of beating his horse. it seems the animal had stepped into a hole and thrown the bully, who, in retaliation, mistreated the animal shamefully. "here! you quit that!" ordered dave, riding up. "what for?" sneered len. "because i say so!" "he isn't your horse." "that may be, but i'm not going to see you abuse him that way. you quit, or i'll give you the worst licking you ever had." "you will; eh? mr. nobody!" sneered len. "you will?" "yes, i will!" and dave strode forward with such a fierce look on his face that len hastily left off beating his poor steed and fled. "oh! i'll fix you yet!" len cried, when, at a safe distance, he paused to turn and shake his fist at dave. "the mean hound!" muttered dave. it was about a week after this that dave rode over to a small corral where some choice cattle were quartered. these had been cut out and herded by themselves, to get ready for a special shipment. dave wanted to see if the fence and gate were sufficiently strong. he rode around the corral, and was soon satisfied that all was right. he was riding away over the plain, glad to be able to report to mr. carson that the cattle were in fine shape for shipment, when a sudden noise caused him to turn around. to dave's surprise he saw the cattle, in a small stampede, rushing from the corral, straight toward him in an overwhelming mass. dave hesitated but a moment, and then clapping spurs to his horse he wheeled and rode straight at the oncoming steers, shouting and waving his hat in one hand, while with the other he fired shot after shot from his big revolver. chapter v treachery "don't fall now, crow! don't you dare to stumble!" breathed dave, leaning over to speak into the very ear of his coal-black steed. "don't step in any holes and throw me. for if you do, it's all up with both of us!" yet, knowing that danger as he did, dave never for an instant faltered. he was going to stop that stampede and drive back the valuable cattle before they could stray and get far out on the range or among the wild hills where they would lose much of their prime condition that would insure a good price. dave was going to stop that stampede though he took his life in his hands to do it. and for what? he might have reflected. to save the property of a man who was no relation to him. yet never for an instant did dave ask this question of himself. it never entered his mind. for the time being he had forgotten that mr. carson was not his father. "i'm going to save those cattle!" dave murmured over and over again, as he neared the frightened, tumultuous mass of steers. "but don't you stumble with me, crow!" for to stumble meant, very likely, the death of horse and rider. cattle on the range are used to seeing mounted men--in fact they seldom see them otherwise, and for a mounted cowpuncher it is perfectly safe to ride in front of even a wildly running mass of steers. but once let a man be on foot, while the cattle do not actually attack him, they seem to lose all fear of him, and may trample ruthlessly over him. then is when a cowpuncher's life depends on his steed. the cattle seem to regard horse and man as one and as a superior being to whom they must give place. that is why dave did not want his horse to stumble and throw him. for his life, and that of his fine steed, crow, would not have lasted a minute under the pounding rush of those sharp hoofs. while thus riding wildly at the rushing steers dave had many thoughts in his mind. "how did they get out?" he mused. "the gate and fastenings were all right five minutes ago. and i wonder if i can turn them and drive them back alone? i've got to, that's all, for i don't see any help coming." dave rose in his stirrups and gave a quick frightened, tumultuous mass of steers. "but don't glance ahead of him and over the backs of the steers. he saw no one in sight, and settling in the saddle again, prepared for the work ahead of him. "got to have some more shots, anyhow," dave reasoned. his revolver was empty. fortunately dave had trained crow so that he could ride him without the use of the reins--merely by the pressure of the knees on either side of his neck. dropping the leather, dave broke his gun, scattered the empty shells out on the ground, and filled the chamber with fresh cartridges. he depended upon the thundering reports of his forty-five, as much as on his voice and his fearless riding straight at the oncoming steers, to drive them back. now again he was ready for his task, and it was high time, for he was almost at the front line of advancing cattle. shouting, waving his big hat with one hand, and with the other working the trigger of his gun, dave sought to drive back the maddened animals. he put into his action all the energy of which he was capable, rising in his stirrups as though he would hurl himself over the head of his horse at the beasts. "steady now, crow!" he called into the ear of his faithful pony, leaning over far on its neck. the front line of cattle began to divide to let dave through, or, rather, to pass around him. but he did not want that. he wanted to turn the animals back. "oh, if i only had some one to help me!" he cried aloud. once more his gaze swept over the backs of the cattle. yes, there was a figure on horseback, but it was riding away, straight toward the foot-hills. "here!" cried dave. "come back! give me a hand here, whoever you are! come back!" but the figure did not turn, and then dave, with anger and disgust showing in his face, thought he recognized in the peculiar style of the rider something familiar. "len molick!" he exclaimed, as he wheeled his horse to ride out of the press of cattle and once more to get ahead of them. "if that wasn't len molick i'll eat my hat!" he soliloquized. "but what is he doing here, and why is he riding away instead of helping me out? i'd help him out if he was in this pickle!" it was queer to see len riding away at top speed, providing that it was len, and dave felt pretty sure it was. scarcely a cowpuncher but would render even his enemy help in an emergency of this kind. he might be on just as unfriendly terms as before, after the work was done, but he would give help. "but that isn't len's way, evidently," mused dave, bitterly. however he had his own work marked out for him, and no time for idle speculation. somehow or other he must get ahead of the freed cattle and drive them back. whooping, yelling, waving his hat and shooting, dave took after the escaping steers. "oh for one man to help," he cried aloud, and it seemed as if his cry was answered. for, riding toward him, and toward the bunch of stampeded cattle, he descried a figure that made his heart leap with joy. "pocus pete!" he cried. "now we'll get you beasts back!" and indeed it was the efficient foreman of bar u ranch who rode up at top speed, his hat off, his revolver spitting fire, and his horse lending itself to the game with all its energies. "off to the left, dave! bear off to the left!" yelled pete, indicating that his friend was to head in that direction. pete himself took the right, and a moment later the two were riding along the front of the steers who were not running so fast now, being somewhat exhausted. the object of pete, seconded by dave, was to turn the stream of cattle--to swing around the front ranks, and so bring those in the rear to a halt. often in a cattle stampede the front rank becomes exhausted, and the animals in it would willingly give up and cease running, but there is an irresistible pressure from those in the rear. and if those in front stop they know they will be trampled under foot. so they must keep on or be killed. this bunch, however, was comparatively small, and easy to handle. soon, with the help of pete, dave had brought the animals down to a walk, and then it was an easy matter to turn them and drive them back toward the corral. "whew!" cried dave, when he had a chance to get his breath. "that was some job, pete!" "yes, all alone, i reckon it was." "how'd you happen to know about it?" "i didn't. i just come over here on an errand. your dad--" he stopped in some confusion. "that's all right, pete," dave said. "i'm going to call mr. carson dad until i find my real one--if i ever do. no matter what happens, even if i do find my real folks, i can't forget that he has been as good as a father to me." "that's what he has, dave," said the foreman, solemnly. "an' i hope you don't ever forget that. there's not many folks--not even a fellow's real ones--who can beat th' old man. he's th' real stuff an' twenty-four carats fine every time." together they urged the now quieted cattle toward the corral. "as i was sayin'," resumed focus pete, "i come over here on a little errand for th' old man, an' i thought i'd take a run out here an' see about the prize bunch. it's good i did." "i should say so!" dave exclaimed, fervently. "wasn't there any one to help you?" asked pocus pete. "not a soul. i did see len molick riding off--sneaking away. i called to him, but he didn't answer." "how did they break out?" pete asked next. "that's what's puzzling me," replied the younger cowboy. "say! look there!" suddenly called pete, pointing. "that's how they got out. a section of th' corral fence is down." "the gate didn't come open at all," said dave. "the steers pushed down the fence." "drive 'em through the opening," directed pete, and this was done. as the last of the cattle passed in, pete and dave stood on guard astride their ponies to prevent the animals stampeding out again, and dave looked at the broken fence. what he saw caused him to cry out: "look here, pete! some of those posts have been sawed almost through!" "by the great side saddle!" exclaimed the foreman. "you're right, dave! there's been treachery here!" chapter vi a cry for help together, dave and pocus pete examined the posts of the corral fence. there was no doubt but that some of them had been partly sawed through, in order to weaken them so that only a moderate pressure was required to break them off short, close to the ground. "so that was his game; eh?" exclaimed dave in a justifiably angry voice. "whose game?" asked pocus pete. "len's! that's why he wouldn't stop to help me. he had been here sawing through the posts so our best bunch of cattle would get out and be spoiled. the hound! wait until i get hold of him!" "better go a bit slow," advised pocus pete, in his drawling tones. "slow! what do you mean?" "well, i mean it isn't a good thing t' go around makin' accusations like that, without somethin' t' back 'em up. in this country you've got t' back up what you say, dave." "i know that, but--" "an' what evidence have you got that len did this mean trick? for mean trick it is, as shore as guns is guns. what evidence have you?" "why, didn't i see him riding away as fast as his horse could gallop just a little while ago?" "well, s'posin' you did. that's no evidence in a court of law. you didn't see him saw the posts; did you?" "no, of course not. but look! here's some fresh sawdust on the ground! the posts have been sawed within a few hours--perhaps even inside an hour. maybe just before i came." dave pointed to the moist earth under some of the splintered posts and boards. there was the fine sawdust where it had been preserved from the trampling hoofs of the steers. "yes, th' job's been done recent," admitted pocus pete, "but that doesn't prove anythin'. now if we could find a saw with len's name on it, that might be some law-evidence. but i don't see any; do you?" there was no saw in sight. the cattle had retreated to the far side of the corral, leaving the part next the broken fence free for examination. but as pete had said, there was no saw lying about. "he could easily have carried it away with him when he rode off," dave said, following up his suspicion. "yes, he could, an' he'd be foolish if he didn't--provided it was him as did this," agreed pete. "well, i'm sure he did," dave insisted. "and i'll take it out of him for trying to spoil dad's best bunch of cattle." the word slipped from dave almost before he knew it. but he did not care. as he had told pocus pete he was going to regard mr. carson as his father--he had thought of him so many years in that relationship that it was difficult to think otherwise. "well, you be careful of what you do, dave; that's my advice t' you," said pete. "why so? i'm not afraid of len molick," was dave's quick response. "no, maybe not. yet len trails in with a middlin' mean crowd, an' though you are pretty good, you're no match for whitey wasson an' his bunch of cowpunchers." "but my quarrel is with len, for i'm sure he did this." "that's all right. i have a sneakin' suspicion that way myself, but len is a coward, as well as a bully, an' he'd howl for help if you went at him. an' whitey is just th' kind t' pitch in on you if he saw you givin' len a drubbin'. so you take my advice, an' go a bit slow." "i will. i won't have it out with len until i can get him alone somewhere, and then i'll put it up to him." "well, maybe that's a good way, though i don't approve of fightin' as a rule." "oh, no! you don't!" laughed dave, for it was a well known fact that pocus pete was considered the best man with his fists in that section of the country. "oh, of course i'll fight when i have to. but i'm not goin' out of my way t' look for trouble." this was strictly true, and dave knew it. pocus pete would never needlessly quarrel with any one, but once he had started on what he regarded as a right course, nothing would turn him aside until he had either vanquished or been beaten. and the latter was seldom the outcome. "well, that's my case," said dave. "i'm not going to put this on len until i give him a chance to defend himself. but now, pete, what are we going to do? we can't leave these choice cattle here in a broken corral. they'll stray all over the range." "that's right. we've got to fix that fence, and we'll need help. some new posts will have to be set, and it's got to be done before dark. tell you what to do. you ride back to the ranch, and get some of the boys." "what will you do?" "i'll stay here and guard the cattle. it won't take long, and your horse is faster than mine." "all right, i'll go. but first let's make what repairs we can. that will make it easier for you to hold in the cattle." there was some wire at the corral, and with this, and by using some of the broken posts and boards, the gap in the fence was made smaller so the cattle would not be so likely to try to rush through it. this done, pete prepared to mount guard while dave leaped to the back of crow and started for the ranch on the gallop, to bring help and to tell the story of the broken corral. "i wonder if i'd better mention len?" thought dave, as he rode on. "i'm pretty sure he did the trick, but i don't want to accuse any one unjustly, even him." after thinking it over dave decided that it would be better not to say anything about len just yet. he would let matters take their own course. "but i'll be on the watch for him," he made up his mind. dave's mind was busy with many thoughts, and his body was weary with the exertions through which he had just passed. but there was a certain sense of exhilaration after all. he had done a good piece of work, and he realized it. of course pocus pete had helped, but dave was in a fair way to stop the stampede when the old foreman came along. "i'll get to be a regular cowboy after a while," thought dave, not without a little smile of gratification. to get to the ranch more quickly the young cowpuncher took a trail that led through a patch of rocky woodland. it was a curious formation in the midst of the flat cattle country, being a patch several miles square, consisting of some rocky hills, well wooded, with a number of deep gullies in them. more than once cattle had wandered in among them and been lost. and it was said that at one time a noted band of cattle rustlers, or thieves, had made their headquarters in this wood, and had held out a long time against the attacks of the cattlemen. dave rode through this not very cheerful place. he had been keeping his eyes open for a sight of len molick, but had caught no further glimpse of the bully whom he suspected. "hit it up, crow! hit it up!" dave called to his black horse, who was going along a not very safe trail amid the rocks and stones. dave was about half way through the place when the silence, undisturbed save by the rattle of crow's hoofs, was suddenly broken by a cry. "help! help!" dave heard uttered in somewhat weak accents. "help!" the young cowboy was startled for a moment. he reined in his horse sharply, and looked about. he could see nothing, and the silence seemed more pronounced after the echo of the appeal for aid had died away. "hello!" dave called. "who are you, and what do you want? where are you?" he asked, for he could see no one. "over here. to your right. i can see you, but you can't see me. i'm down behind a rock. i'm caught, and hanging over a gully. wait, i'll toss up my handkerchief. watch for it!" dave looked as nearly as he could tell in the direction of the voice. an instant later something white flashed up in the air, and fell down softly. crow started violently. chapter vii the rescue "whoa there, old boy! steady!" dave spoke to his horse, and the animal, that had been frightened by the sudden throwing into the air of the handkerchief, stood still. "i see where you are!" dave called to the unknown and unseen one--a man, evidently, by the tones of his voice. "i'll be with you in a minute!" "be careful of yourself," was the caution. "i had a bad fall in here, and i don't want to see any one else get into trouble. go a bit slow." "thanks, i will," dave said "but i know this ground pretty well. stand still now, old fellow," he went on to his horse. "i don't want you falling, and breaking your leg or neck." crow whinnied as though he understood, and dave, slipping the reins over the neck of the intelligent animal as a further intimation that he was to stay where he was without wandering, climbed from the saddle, a bit wearily it must be confessed, and started for the rock, behind which lay the injured man, and from which point the young cattleman had observed the white handkerchief. "careful now." cautioned the voice again. "all right, don't worry about me," said dave, easily. a moment later he had turned around the intervening rock, and saw, stretched out on the ground, hanging half way over a deep and rock-filled gully, a man about twenty-seven years of age. dave guessed this much though he could see only a part of the man's body, for his head and shoulders were hanging down over the ledge. "what are you doing there?" was dave's first question. "why don't you get up?" for it was exactly as if the man were lying face downward on top of a cliff, looking down. "i can't get up," the man answered, his voice being a bit muffled because his head was hanging over the cliff. "my foot is caught in a cleft in the rocks, and i'm afraid to move for fear it will pull loose. if it does i'll lose my balance and topple, for i'm hanging more than half-way over this cliff now. and it doesn't look like a good place into which to fall." this was true enough, as dave knew, for the bottom of the gully was covered with jagged rocks. more than one straying steer had fallen over there and had been dashed to pieces. "steady!" called dave. "i see how it is. i'll soon have you out of that. i'm going back for my rope." "are you a puncher?" asked the man. "yes," answered dave, briefly. "but don't talk. save your strength. i'll have you out in a jiffy." he hurried back to where he had left his horse, and took from the horn of the saddle the rope which no cowboy is ever without. with this dave took a turn about the man's waist, passing the rope under him. he then carried an end back to a stout tree and tied it there, working, the while, deftly and swiftly. "that will hold you in case you slip when i loosen the rocks and free your foot," dave explained. "you are pretty well overbalanced. but i'll get you up, all right." the man was in a peculiar and perilous position, but dave thought that he could cope with the situation. his life on the plains, and amid the perils of the range had made him resourceful, and quick to take advantage of all the chances for safety. dave looked at the man's foot. it was firmly wedged in between two rocks that came together in the form of a large v. considerable pressure must have forced the man's foot there, for dave could see that the stout leather of his riding boot was cut and scraped. the foot was twisted, and dave remarked, in a low voice: "if you haven't a badly sprained ankle i'll miss my guess!" "watch yourself now," david cautioned the man. "you can't fall, even if you slip over, for the rope's strong enough to hold you; but you may get a bad jerk when you bring up suddenly if you fall after i release your foot." "i'm ready," said the man. dave looked at the two stones between which the man's foot was wedged. then with a heavy tree branch, inserted in such a way as not to bring any crushing force on the stranger's leg, dave used the branch as a lever and pressed down with all his might. "it's giving!" the man cried. "i can feel it giving!" "look out for yourself!" dave shouted. once more he pressed down hard on the tree lever. the rocks were pried apart. the man's foot slipped free. dave, seeing this, dropped the branch, made a grab for the leg, for the man's body was going over the cliff. of course he could not fall _far_, as the rope would hold him, but dave wanted to save him this jerk if possible. the young cowboy caught the stranger's boot. dave was aware of a cry of pain from the man, and realized that the ankle must be severely injured. "i can't help it," thought dave, grimly. "i've got to hurt him some to save him more," and he held on desperately. dave was strong, and the man, now that his foot was free, was able to use his hands to push himself back, up over the edge of the cliff. after a few seconds of rather strenuous struggle dave, with the help of the man himself, was able to get him to a sitting position on the edge of the cliff that overhung the gully. the man was pale, and his face was scratched and bleeding. his clothing was disheveled, and he showed many signs of the struggle through which he had gone. "thank--thanks," he gasped, weakly. "now don't try to talk until you get your breath," dave advised him. "here, drink some of this. it's warm, but it's wet." dave carried with him a water canteen, and this he now put to the lips of the man. the latter drank greedily. "that's good," he whispered. he lay back weakly, dave supporting him in his arms. the man's eyes closed, and dave feared he was about to faint. quickly the young cowboy whipped off his coat, and folding it in pillow shape, put it on the rocks, and laid the man's head down on it. the stranger opened his eyes. "don't be alarmed," he said. "i'm not going to die. i'm just getting my breath back. i was hanging there a good while i guess." he closed his eyes again, and moved his foot--the one that had been caught between the rocks. a groan came through his clenched teeth and tightly pressed lips, and, accompanied by a sudden wave of whiteness that made his face paler than before, a shudder passed over him. "he's fainted this time, for keeps," decided dave, grimly. chapter viii mr. bellmore dave carson had some knowledge of rough and ready first-aid work. there was often occasion for it on the ranch, and though fainting men were not common sights, still, now and again, such a contingency would arise. cowboys often get severely hurt, and it is not always within the nerve power of a man to hold back when a deathly faintness overcomes him. "i've got to get help to tote you back to the ranch," dave said, as he sprinkled some water from his canteen in the face of the stranger. "you've got to be looked after. maybe the ankle's broken." he glanced at the injured foot, but did not offer to touch it, for he knew how sensitive it must be, when even a slight movement sent the man off in a faint. the water had the desired effect, or perhaps the faint was only a slight one, for presently the man opened his eyes, looked about him in some wonder, and murmured: "oh, i remember now. was it last year i tried to fall over the cliff?" he smiled wanly. "no, it was only a little while ago-or at least it was only a little while ago that i pulled you back," dave said. "i don't know how long you had been hanging there, though." "it seemed ten years," was the answer given with another wan smile. "well, what's the next move? i hope it isn't mine, for i don't know how i can manage it. my ankle is either broken, or badly sprained." "i'm afraid so," dave answered. "now i don't know where you came from, or where you're going, but our ranch--bar u--is the nearest place you can get help. i can put you on my horse--i guess i can manage that--and walk with you, but it will take a long time. crow won't carry double, i'm afraid. certainly not with the way i'd have to put you on." "i had a horse," said the stranger. "he can't have gone very far. i left him beside the trail while i came in here to look about. he must have wandered off a way." "a horse!" cried dave, eagerly. "that's good, if i can find him. we'll not have any trouble getting you to the ranch in that case, mr.--er--" dave paused significantly, adding, after a moment's thought: "my names is dave--dave carson." he had hesitated, and then quickly reflected that this was no time to enter into explanations about his lack of parentage. "my father, randolph carson, owns bar u ranch." "yes, i have heard of him," the man said. "in fact i was going to call on him within a few days in regard to a certain matter. i am afraid i can't reach my card case, but my name is bellmore--benjamin bellmore. i'm from chicago, but i'm out here representing the rolling valley water company." "never heard of them," dave said. "they don't deal in cattle; do they?" "no, they hope to deal in water; that is later on. but i'll go into details after a bit." "pardon me, mr. bellmore!" burst out dave. "here i am keeping you talking, when i ought to be looking for your animal, and helping you to our ranch. i don't know what's got into me. but i just had some trouble with a bunch of our cattle, and i guess i'm thinking of that yet. "i was on my way to the ranch to get help, when i took this short cut and heard you call. i'll go and see if i can find your horse. if i can't we'll use mine, and i can walk. it won't be the first time, though we cowpunchers are more used to a saddle than we are to our own legs." he gave mr. bellmore another drink from the canteen, and then seeing that the man was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, went back to the trail to look for the missing horse. dave saw his own steed contentedly munching some of the scanty herbage, &and, speaking to him, passed on. reaching a point where he could look down into the valley below, dave peered long and earnestly for a sight of a riderless horse. to his delight he saw the animal almost at once. "well, you didn't run far," he murmured, "and if you don't get a tantrum, and gallop off when i come up, i'll soon have you." going back to where he had left mr. bellmore, dave reported: "your horse is down in the valley. i'll jump on mine and try to catch him for you. if i can, we'll not have any trouble, and i'll soon have you at our ranch." "thanks," murmured the representative of the water company. "his name is kurd," he added. "my horse's, i mean," he explained, with a smile. "he generally comes when i call him, but here are some lumps of sugar i give him. he'll be sure to come if you hold these out to him." dave took the sweets, which mr. bellmore extracted from his pocket, and hurried back to where he had left crow. a moment later dave was moving off down the trail toward the valley. "careful, old boy," he cautioned his steed, for the going was anything but good. "it won't do for you to slip and stumble now." but crow had no intention of doing anything of the sort, and a little later dave was galloping rapidly--across the grassy plain toward the lone horse. "i hope he doesn't bolt and give me a chase," reflected the young cowboy. "i haven't much time," and he looked at the declining sun, and thought of pocus pete on guard at the corral, waiting for help to mend the broken fence. "it's all len's fault, too--the mean skunk!" said dave. "if it hadn't been for him the cattle wouldn't have gotten loose. though i suppose if they hadn't i wouldn't have ridden home this way, and i wouldn't have discovered that man. maybe it'll be a good thing, in the end." just how "good" this chance was to prove to dave, the young cowboy little dreamed. "here kurd! kurd!" he called, as he approached the horse. dave wondered how mr. bellmore had hit on that odd name. "here, kurd!" the youth called. the horse, a beautiful and intelligent beast, raised his head, and looked at dave approaching on crow. "here you are, old boy. kurd!" called the young ranchman again. the other pony, who had been cropping the grass, moved off a short distance. "that won't do!" dave murmured. "if he once starts he'll keep going. looks as if he had speed, too, but i think you can beat him, crow, old boy," and he patted the neck of his faithful beast. kurd continued to amble slowly away. then dave thought of the sugar. he took the lumps out of his pocket and held them in the palm of his hand, at the same time bringing crow to a stop. kurd raised his head, whinnied once or twice, stretched out his velvet muzzle, as though to smell what dave held out, and then came slowly toward the youth. "that's more like it," dave murmured. "now if you don't take a sudden notion, and bolt off just as i reach for your reins, i'll be all right. steady boy! come on kurd!" the strange horse seemed to have cast his suspicions to the wind, and came fearlessly. a moment later he and crow were sniffing at each other, and then kurd took the sugar from dave's palm. then the lad grasped the reins, and, turning about, riding his own horse and leading kurd, made for the place where he had left mr. bellmore. "good luck!" dave called as he came in sight of the prostrate man. "i've got your horse, and now we'll soon be at the ranch." "fine! now i'm going to ask you to do something else for me. this foot of mine is paining worse every minute, but i think if i could get my boot off, to allow room for that swelling to expand, it would ease me." "i'll try," dave said. however, it was found impossible to pull off the footgear without so yanking on the injured foot that mr. bellmore nearly fainted again. "guess i'll have to cut it," dave said, dubiously. "do then." "it's a pity to spoil a good boot." "well, the chances are i won't be able to wear one again for a few weeks, and i simply can't stand this pain." "here goes," dave said. with his keen knife he slit the leather. a sigh of relief came from the man. "that's better-a whole lot better," he murmured. it was no easy matter to get him astride his horse, but dave finally managed it, and wrapped the swollen ankle in his own coat to prevent its striking against the side of kurd as they rode off. "how did you come to fall?" asked dave, as he got into his own saddle, ready for the trip to the ranch. "i'll explain later. i can't talk very well now. but i was prospecting around, looking at the rock formation, when i slipped. i thought it was all up with me, but my foot caught, and i was held suspended over the gully." "i see," dave replied. "well, we'll doctor you up." carefully they made their way out of the rocky woodland, and started across the plain, toward bar u ranch. as dave took the lead, making as much speed as was possible under the circumstances, he saw, some distance in advance, a solitary horseman. again something in the peculiar saddle position of the rider attracted his attention. "there's len molick again!" he exclaimed aloud. "i suppose he's hanging around to see how his trick worked!" "len molick!" exclaimed mr. bellmore. "why i want to see him. i have been looking for him!" chapter ix dave meets len dave looked curiously at the man he had rescued. from him he glanced toward the figure of the young bullying cowboy whom he suspected of having been instrumental in causing the stampede. "do you know len molick?" asked dave slowly, as he guided his horse along the trail. "no, but i want to know him," was the answer. "i have a letter to him, and i understand that he is one of the influential cattle raisers in this vicinity." dave breathed easier. it was evident a mistake had been made. "i guess it's len's father, mr. jason molick you want to meet," dave said. "that's right. jason is the name!" admitted mr. bellmore. "i heard you mention the name molick and i didn't pay much attention to the first part. so there are two of them?" "yes, len and his father," "do you know them?" "oh, yes, every one around here knows them." "you don't speak very enthusiastically," said mr. bellmore, with a strange look at the boy. "is it possible that some error has been made on the part of those who gave me letters of introduction? is not mr. molick influential in these parts?" "oh, yes, that's all right," assented dave, and still his voice had no ring to it. "mr. molick is influential all right--too much so, at times." "you don't seem to like him," said mr. bellmore. "i wish you would be frank with me. i am a stranger in these parts, and i have to depend on residents here for my information, and, in a large part, for my success. i know nothing about the molicks." "well, since you asked me to be frank," went on dave, "i will be, and i'll say you haven't missed much by not knowing the molicks--especially len. i'm after him now, for i suspect him of having tried to do us a serious injury." "is that so! that's too bad. if i had known that--" "oh, don't let me prejudice you against them," dave went on. "mr. molick may be able to do business with you in the way you want. i am not speaking from the business end of it. personally i don't like the molicks," and dave mentioned the cattle stampede. "well, if he did that i should say he wasn't a person to be trusted," said the chicago man. "but still--" "of course. i'm not certain of it," dave continued. "i'm going to find out about the sawed posts, though. but see mr. molick yourself, and make up your own mind about him." "i will, but i shall be on my guard on account of what you have said. it is well to know the character of the man one is dealing with. i'm afraid though," he added as a spasm of pain crossed his face, "that i sha'n't be able to do any active business for a while," and he glanced down at his injured foot. "we'll soon be at the ranch," dave remarked. "the rest of the trail is easy." dave was thinking of many things as his pony ambled on, followed by mr. bellmore's horse. it was strange, the manner in which he had come to help the injured man, and it was stranger still that the latter should be seeking to do business with the molicks of whom the members of the bar u ranch had no very high opinion. "i was on my way to mr. molick's place, when i got off the trail to look after that rock formation," resumed mr. bellmore after a pause. "rocks always interest me, for i am always looking to see what the possibilities are for striking a supply of water." "why water?" asked dave. "because i am an irrigation engineer," was the reply. "that is my business. i have been sent out here by a concern, recently formed, called the rolling valley water company. our concern has acquired rights in the valley of the rolling river, and i have been sent out to see what the chances are for getting the ranchmen and other land-owners interested." "i thought irrigation schemes had only to do with farming," said dave. "no, irrigation takes in much more than that. of course farmers need water, and we hope to develop some big farms out here. but ranchmen also need water for their cattle." "yes, that's true," said dave. "my--my father was saying only the other day, that he could do a lot more if we had a better water supply." "then he's one of the men i need to see!" exclaimed mr. bellmore. "perhaps he already has some rights in the water supply of this valley that we could negotiate for. "you see our idea is," he continued, "to get the whole water supply under one head in a big company, of course giving those who sell us their rights, a certain control. then we intend to build a big dam to conserve the water supply. as it is here now i imagine, from what i know of other places, at one time you have too much water, and at another you don't have enough." "that's just it," dave admitted. "it isn't even." "well, that's what we irrigation engineers are aiming to do--make the water supply even the year around. i certainly must talk with your father. maybe, after all, it's a good thing i sprained my ankle, though it certainly does hurt!" he exclaimed, with a sharp indrawing of his breath. "well, of course i'll be glad to have you see mr. carson--my father," and again dave rather hesitated and stumbled over the word. "but, as a matter of fact, some of the rights he has in rolling river are subject to some agreement with mr. molick. i know my father doesn't like it, for it makes him too dependent on this man, but he could do nothing else. he had to have water for his stock." "of course," agreed mr. bellmore. "well, perhaps we can get together and form a company so he can have more water and will not have to worry about it." "i hope so," dave said. a little later they came within sight of the ranch buildings, which were glowing in the rays of the setting sun. "what a fine place!" exclaimed mr. bellmore. "yes, i like it," dave made answer. then a pang seemed to shoot through him. what if he had to leave the place? he could not count on always staying there, as he might have done had he been mr. carson's son. even though the ranchman might love dave as one of his own blood, when mr. carson died there would be other heirs very likely, who would step in and claim the place. dave was not legally adopted. he might inherit nothing. he had always counted on taking up as his life work, the cattle business. but now, since the disclosure had been made, this was, perhaps, impossible. and he sighed again as he looked at the group of buildings set down in a little valley, with rolling river in the distance glistening in the slanting rays of the setting sun. on all sides stretched the vast prairies on which grazed the hundreds of cattle--not only from the bar u ranch, but from the centre o, and others. "yes, that's our place," said dave. for the present, at least, this man need not know his secret, though he might find it out soon enough. "and i guess you'll be glad of a chance to lie down; won't you?" "indeed i will," was the answer. a moment later the two rode up toward the main ranch buildings. the cowboys had come in from their day's labors, and were washing themselves at their bunk houses, in readiness for supper. from the quarters of hop loy, the chinese cook, came a grateful odor. "that certainly smells good!" exclaimed mr. bellmore. the cowpunchers looked curiously at the drooping figure on the horse that followed dave. it needed but a glance from their sharp eyes to tell that the man was hurt. mr. carson came out. "well, dave," he began, "i was just wondering where you were. are the cattle all right?" "they are now, dad, but they weren't for a time. they got out of the corral, but pocus pete and i got them back again. i'll tell you about that later. "here's a gentleman who needs help. he's a mr. bellmore from chicago interested in irrigation. he was in the rock-grove, caught by the foot. i got him out. you look after him, dad. i've got to get some of the boys, with fence material, and go back to relieve pete. he's on guard there." "say! it takes you to tell it!" exclaimed mr. carson with a smile. "welcome to bar u, mr. bellmore. i don't exactly understand all that boy of mine has gotten off, but it's all right. we will look after you. sprained ankle; eh? well, i know something about them. come boys, one of you help mr. bellmore down, and make him comfortable. "you'll stop and get something to eat, dave, won't you, before you go back?" "yes, just a bite, dad. we haven't much time." a little later mr. bellmore was comfortably installed in the ranch house, while dave and two other cowboys, after a hasty meal, were on their way back to relieve pocus pete, and repair the broken fence. this work was soon under way. while pocus pete had been on guard a cattleman, passing, had given him an important message for mr. carson. "so you'd better ride back and tell him, dave," pete said, as he and the other punchers began to work on the fence, a snack having been brought for pete's supper. "but i want to stay and help you," objected dave. "you'll do better work by getting back with that message," the foreman said, and once more dave turned his horse's head toward bar u ranch. it was getting dusk now, but it was not so dark but that dave could make out, after he had ridden some distance, the figure of a horseman just ahead of him. "len again!" he murmured. "i'm going to see what he has to say, and why he's hanging around here. we may have to guard those cattle all night." at a word crow leaped forward in a gallop, and in another moment, though len made an effort to spur on ahead, dave had ridden alongside of him. "trying to see how your trick worked?" asked dave, with a sharp look at his enemy. "are you speaking to me?" demanded len. "i certainly am." "well, i don't want to talk to a nobody!" was the retort. chapter x dave wonders giving utterance to this sneering remark len molick began to urge his horse forward, but, though his face flushed, and a sense of anger choked him, dave remained cool as he put out a hand and caught the bridle of the other's steed. "not so fast, len molick!" dave exclaimed. "you may not want to talk to a nobody--that's your business--but you're going to talk to a somebody right now, and that somebody is i!" "huh! you don't even know your name!" len sneered, but he did not try to break away. "names don't matter," said dave, trying to retain his calmness. "you can call me injun jack if you like, but i want to ask you a few questions." "well, i'm not going to answer them," snapped len, "and i want you to let me go! if you don't--" he raised a riding quire he carried, and seemed about to lash it into dave's face. "look here!" dave cried. "if you try to strike me with that i'll pull you off your pony and give you the best drubbing you ever had." he snatched the quirt from len's wrist, breaking the thong, and flung the little whip far out on the prairie. "oh!" mumbled len, and he shrunk away in fear. "i won't touch you--at least not now--if you don't try any more of your underhand work," promised dave. "but i'm going to converse with you right here and now. why did you cut the posts of our special corral? answer me that!" "i didn't cut any posts!" was the sullen answer. "you didn't; eh? well, i think you did, and i'll prove it too, sooner or later. what are you hanging around here for now?" "isn't this a free range? haven't i a right to ride it if i want to?" "yes, you have, but you must have some object in it, and i believe you want to see our cattle stampede. but i fooled you that time, len molick, and i'll fool you again. now i want to know something else. is whitey wasson the only one who told you i--that i wasn't mr. carson's son?" for the life of him dave could not help the falter that crept into his voice. "yes; he's the only one who told me," was len's sullen answer. "how did he find out about it?" "huh! how should i know? ask him!" "i intend to after i get through with you." len winced again. "oh, don't worry. i'm not going to thrash you--at least not now," said dave, grimly. he was willing that len should get what satisfaction he could out of that promise. "well, if you're through with me, you let me go!" the bully demanded. "you haven't any right to hold me up this way." "i've just as much right as you have to take a saw and cut through our fence posts, so that the least pressure by the cattle would crack 'em off short," retorted dave. "i didn't saw any of your posts, i tell you!" insisted len. dave was working his horse around to get closer to len. before the bully suspected it dave had suddenly slipped his hand in under len's coat, and had pulled out a short saw. for a moment len was too surprised to utter a word. then he cried: "here! give me that!" "no, i don't think i will," dave said, coolly. "i may need it as evidence. i thought you said you didn't saw any posts." "i--i didn't!" "then whitey wasson, or some of your crowd, did. i suppose they passed the saw to you to get rid of, which you would have done if you were wise." "i--i found that saw on the plains," stammered len. "probably where whitey dropped it," dave retorted. "now look here len molick," he went on. "you say you didn't saw those posts, but i think you did, and i'm going to try to prove it. this saw is part of the proof. i guess i'll just keep it. "and one thing more. if i catch you hanging around our special corral, even if you are on free range land, i'll tackle you. don't forget that!" "if you dare to touch me!" fairly screamed len, for he was very angry now, "if you dare to touch me i'll have you arrested! my father knows the sheriff--" "you can't scare me by any talk like that," dave said, coolly. "you know i'm a nobody, and i can't be disgraced like any one who bears the name of molick!" and he laughed mockingly, though there was a sore spot in his heart. after all it is small satisfaction to be a "nobody." dave released his hold on the bridle of len's horse, and urged his own steed back toward bar u ranch. "you just wait! i'll fix you for this," len threatened. "i'm a good waiter," dave told him. then, speaking to crow, he galloped off through the gathering darkness. on reaching the ranch dave found that mr. bellmore was very comfortable. mr. carson had applied rough and ready, but effective treatment to the injured ankle, and the two men were deep in a talk of irrigation matters when dave entered the room. "back again, son?" remarked mr. carson, and there was no hesitancy in his endearing tone. for of course he had known, all along, that dave was not his son, though, as he had said, he so loved and so regarded him. "yes--dad, back. perkins sent word about that bunch he was speaking of," and he delivered the message left with pocus pete. "well, dave, you have done a good day's work since morning," commented mr. carson. "you saved that valuable bunch of special cattle, and you bring me as a guest a man, who, i think, can do me a lot of good." "i'm glad to hear it, dad!" "yes, your father and i have been talking irrigation, dave," said mr. bellmore, who had taken a sudden liking to the young cowboy. and to himself dave could not but admit that the more he saw of mr. bellmore the better he liked him. "we think we can get together on this irrigation project," the chicago man went on. "of course that is if we can deal with molick," suggested the ranchman. "oh, yes, it depends a great deal on molick," mr. bellmore admitted. "i wish it didn't," dave said. "why, son?" asked mr. carson. then dave told his story, which was received with rather ominous shakes of the head on the part of mr. carson. "well," said the owner of bar u ranch, when dave had finished, "there's no two ways about it! i wish it hadn't happened, and i think as you do, dave, that molick, or some of his friends, had a hand in it. however, that isn't proof, and we can't move until we get better evidence than just a saw. "another thing i'm sorry for--this may make more bad feeling between mr. molick and myself. there's not much love lost between us as it is," he went on, "and this will only add to his feeling." "i'm sorry, dad," dave began. "oh, it isn't your fault," said mr. carson, quickly. "you acted as you thought best, and i haven't a word of fault to find. it just had to be so, i reckon. but i'll know how to act--that's one thing sure. i'll be on my guard from now on." "it will be best so," said mr. bellmore. a little later pocus pete and one of the cowboys returned, to report that the fence had been repaired. "where's gimp?" asked dave, referring to the other cowpuncher who had ridden with him. "oh, he stayed there on guard. thought it best t' leave him there--to-night anyhow," the foreman said to mr. carson. "i understand," was the answer. "we can't afford to lose any of those steers." they were all up late at bar u ranch that night, for the day had been a momentous one. then, too, the visit of mr. bellmore had created a little diversion. he and mr. carson sat up for some time after the others had retired, talking irrigation matters. "i wonder if i'll ever have a part in them?" reflected dave, as he went to his room. "how long can i stay here, now that i know i am not dave carson--but somebody else? and who am i?" dave's wonderings were not of the most cheerful sort as he fell into an uneasy slumber. chapter xi hazardous work cowboys rushing here and there. dust arising in clouds, settling into a hazy mist, only to be shattered again, as some rushing rider rode recklessly through it. yells, shouts, the snapping of whips, the barking of heavy calibred revolvers, now and then the shrill neigh of a cow-pony. above all a deep resonant note--a sort of distant thunder--a pounding of the earth as thousands of hoofs smote it at once. that was the scene on which dave carson gazed, as he rose in his saddle, his breath coming in quicker measures, while a fierce light shone in his eyes, for he was having a part in it all. it was one of the many round-ups on the bar u range, and there was work for all, more than enough. "hi there, gimp! watch where yo-all are a-ridin'!" "swing him over there! i'll handle that critter!" "what's the matter with your fire? can't git no kind of an impression with irons as cold as a chunk of ice!" "look out for that cayuse! he's shore a bad 'un!" "over this way now!" "that's talkin'!" this was only some of the talk, part of the shouts, a few of the yells that were bandied back and forth, as the cowboys rounded up the herd, cut out the designated steers or cows, branded the new ones that had never yet felt the touch of the hot iron, and generally did the work that falls to every ranch at certain times of the year. dave had been among the busiest, now roping some refractory steer, now helping a cowboy heat the big irons, with their mark "bar u.", now scudding out of the way on the back of his fleet pony, crow. now finding a moment of respite, he galloped up to where mr. bellmore was sitting in the shade of the chuck wagon, as the cooking outfit is known. "well, what do you think of it?" asked the young cowboy, as he pulled his horse back sharply, so that crow reared. but he was used to that, and dave was exceptionally gentle with him. "it's just great!" exclaimed the man who had been a semi-invalid since coming to bar u ranch. "i never imagined there was so much work attached to a round-up." "oh, there's work all right," said dave, removing his big hat and wiping the sweat from his brow with a big handkerchief. "it isn't much like locating a water trail, i expect?" "not much," assented the visitor, who had now been at the ranch about a week, and who was progressing favorably. his ankle would not yet permit him to step on it, but he managed to get about with the help of his horse. to-day he had ridden out in the chuck wagon to witness the round-up. "locating a good place to plant an irrigation scheme is child's play compared to this cattle business," went on mr. bellmore. "still i suppose you get more or less used to it." "in a way, yes," said pocus pete, who rode up just then. "but there are always some things you never can count on. gimp's horse just broke his leg," he added, more to dave than to the visitor. "you don't say!" exclaimed the lad. "that will make gimp feel bad." "well, it's all in the game," added the foreman with a shrug of his shoulders. "that's the end of him," he went on as a shot rang out. there had been little firing of late, for the work of branding the strays and other cattle was almost over. "did he shoot him?" asked mr. bellmore. "th' horse? yes!" said pete sententiously. "that's all we can do for a horse when he breaks a leg. he ain't no good to anybody. that's the law of th' range. yo've got t' make good or quit!" "poor star," murmured dave. "he was a good horse." "while he lasted," added pete. "but gimp pulled him around too sudden like, i'm thinkin', t' get out of the way of an onery steer. well, that's th' way it goes!" and dave, as he thought of his own new and peculiar position, wondered if that was to be his way. he was really no one now. would he be thrust aside, and not counted as one of the family? and yet, as he reflected on the fact that mr. carson had always known of their relation--or, rather their lack of relation--he would not be likely to change. "i wonder if i'll ever find out who my parents are?" thought dave. "i must have some folks, somewhere." but as he recalled what had been told him--how he had been swept down the river in a great flood--the chances that he had any kin living seemed more and more remote. but the boy was awakened out of his momentary brown study. "hi there!" "look out for that critter!" "he's a bad one!" "rope him!" such were the wild cries that greeted dave as he spurred away from the chuck wagon toward what seemed more than the usual commotion. a steer that had been roped and thrown that a new brand might be put over the almost obliterated one, had broken away and regained its feet and was wildly rushing here and there. a lasso had been thrown over his head, and this now trailed in the dust several of the cowboys, clapping spurs to their ponies, set off either to throw more ropes about the escaping beast, or else to grasp the trailing lariat. "take him, dave!" cried pocus pete, who wanted the lad to get as much practical experience as possible. "i'll get him," was the instant call in response. "look at him go!" murmured mr. bellmore, who half rose from a pile of blankets to watch the antics of the steer. "yes, that boy of mine can ride!" said mr. carson, who was looking on. a tender look came into his eyes. no one looking at him would have suspected that, only a comparatively short time before, he had confessed to this same lad that there was no real relationship between them. that they were actually, strangers, save that there was a love between them that could only come of long association. "yes. he surely can ride," murmured the ranch owner. "if he lives i hope he'll succeed me as operator here. and if i can put through your irrigation scheme it will make bar u one of the best ranches in this part of the country." "oh, we'll put it through all right," said the chicago man. "don't worry about that. we'll put it through." "if molick doesn't kick up a row," observed mr. carson. "yes, of course we've got to look out for him. but i think--" mr. bellmore never finished his sentence. "look out, dave!" he yelled, as if he could warn the lad who was riding toward the rushing steer. "oh! oh!" gasped mr. carson. the next instant they both saw the trailing rope on the steer's head tangle around the legs of dave's pony. the plucky crow made a brave effort to keep his feet. but a moment later he went down heavily in a cloud of dust with his rider, while the maddened steer, brought up short, reared and seemed to fall backward on pony and cowboy. chapter xii the fight with one bound, it seemed, mr. carson leaped away from the side of his invalid guest, and was in the saddle of his favorite pony, that had been standing near the chuck wagon. "he's killed!" was the thought that came instantly into the mind of mr. bellmore. "no rider could suffer such a fall, and live!" such an idea, too, it seemed, was in the thought of the ranch owner, for he was slightly pale underneath his coat of tan as he spurred his steed forward. a number of other cowboys had seen the happening, and those who could leave the work in which they were engaged, started for the scene of the accident. but there were some, holding down a refractory steer, or engaged in putting on the hot branding irons, who only looked over, shrugged their shoulders, and kept on with their tasks. for that, too, was the law of the range. if a man had a fall, he was either killed or he was not killed. if he was killed there was no use dropping important work to go to his aid. if he was not killed he must either help himself, or take such help as could be sent to him at the time. cruel, perhaps you will say, but it was eminently practical, and, after all, that is life. if dave was really dead no power the cowboys could exert would save him. the accident had happened--it was over with--and that was all there was to it. of course some did go to his aid--mr. carson and several of the less busy punchers. and, to do justice to the others, not a man but, would have rushed to help dave had he been in a position to do so. but the work of the ranch must go on--and it did. long before mr. carson reached the scene, or, for that matter, before any of the others were in a position to help dave, a movement was observed in the tangle of pony, rider and steer. just who, or which, was doing the moving it was hard to determine, as the haze of dust still overhung everything. "can a person live after that mix-up?" asked mr. bellmore, speaking aloud, unconsciously. "oh, him plenty mluch alive!" glibly replied the chinese cook. "dave he plenty mluch hab fall, an' he come up smilin'." "oh, he does; eh?" asked the chicago man. "sure!" was the answer, given with a bland grin. "he clum' up smilin'." "well, i hope he does," was the comment. by this time it could be seen that dave was at least alive. out of the haze of dust he limped, but the steer lay prone. mr. carson jumped from his horse, and an instant later had the young cowboy in his arms. "dave! dave!" he cried. "my boy! my boy! tell me you're not hurt!" as the other cowboys rode up one of them gave a look at the prostrate steer. "he's done for," he commented. it needed but a look at the curiously and grotesquely twisted neck of the animal to tell that it was broken. "dave, are you hurt?" gasped the ranchman. "well, i've felt better," dave answered, slowly, making a wry face as he limped to one, side. he leaned heavily on the arm of mr. carson. then, as if remembering something he had forgotten, dave looked toward his pony. to his great relief he saw crow rise to his feet, shake himself and run off a little way, seemingly little the worse for his adventure. "thank goodness!" murmured dave, and there was a prayer of gratitude in his heart. "i thought he was a goner." "and we thought you were," put in tubby larkin, as he strode up. "that was some fall--believe me!" "must have got tangled up in the rope," commented pocus pete, who had finished a task he was at, and who now spurred forward. "that's what happened," dave explained, as he rubbed the back of his head and threw out one leg as if to test whether or not it had been knocked out of joint. "i didn't see the trailing lasso, and it got around crow's feet." "yes, that's how it happened," said mr. carson. "but i certainly thought both steer and pony fell on you." "i managed to roll out of the way," said dave, grimly. "lucky for you," commented pocus pete. "that's one of the biggest and worst steers on the ranch, and he weighs something, too." "his own weight broke his neck," said tubby, reflectively. "well, we was needin' some beef an' now we've got it." "i'm sorry he had to go," remarked dave, as he walked off toward his pony, having made sure that none of his bones was broken. "better him than you," murmured mr. carson. "are you sure you're all right, dave, my boy?" he asked anxiously. "oh, yes i'm a bit shaken up, but i'll be all right. i can go on with the round-up." "you can--but you'll not!" was the ranch owner's decision. "i want you to take a little rest. the worst of the job's over, anyhow." dave was nothing loath to have a little respite, and as he came up to the chuck wagon, where mr. bellmore was eagerly waiting for him, the chicago man said: "well, i never expected to see you come up this way, dave," and he held out a welcoming hand. "oh, we get used to little things like that." "little things!" exclaimed the irrigation engineer. "well, i thought i had a hard time when i was hanging over that gully. but that wasn't a circumstance to yours." "it's all in the day's work," said dave with a shrug of his shoulders, as he sank down on a pile of sacks. "he's grit clear through," thought the visitor. "i like him more every day i see him." as for dave, in addition to the thankfulness in his heart that he was not hurt, and that his favorite pony had escaped, was a deep sense of gratitude for the manner manifested toward him by mr. carson. no father could have showed more love toward his own son than the ranch owner did toward his ward, his nameless ward. the excitement caused by dave's fall soon passed, for, after all, such things are comparatively common on the ranch, and he had really been more than usually fortunate. and so the work of the round-up went on, day after day. hard, hot, sweaty and dusty work it was, too, with little of the romance that attaches to the book stories of life on a cattle range. but no one complained, least of all dave carson. it was about a week after this that dave was sent out again to look up some stray cattle. he was not riding his own pony crow, who had, after all, developed a lame shoulder from his fall. so he was left in the stable for a day or two. as the animal dave had was rather strange he took the precaution of staking him out as he halted for a bite to eat at noon. dave was taking his nooning, resting lazily on the silent plain, when he heard a noise that caused him to rouse up suddenly. what he saw brought an exclamation of anger to his lips, for in the act of cutting the rope that held the somewhat restive pony was len molick. dave had caught him in the nick of time. len had looked around, to make sure he was unobserved, but his back was toward our hero, who was down in a little hollow. "the sneak!" murmured dave. then, silently, he began stalking the bully, who was preparing to go back to his own horse, that was standing with reins over its head. len's object was plain. he wanted to let dave's pony run back to the ranch, so our hero would have a long walk. but his plan failed. just as len was about to sever the lariat dave sprang up, and with a yell that startled both horses, fairly threw himself on the back of the bully. "at last i've got you just where i want you, len molick!" dave cried. "maybe i can't prove you sawed the fence posts, but i don't need any more evidence than i've just had of what you were going to do. i've got you!" "you--you let me alone!" whimpered len, who was a coward, as most bullies are. "i will, when i've finished," said dave, laying aside his coat. "what are you going to do?" asked len, who had straightened up, after having been rolled on the ground by dave. "what am i going to do? i'm going to give you the best drubbing you ever had. stand up and fight now, you big coward!" chapter xiii some news perhaps if len had done the manly thing--if he had owned to some of his misdeeds, and had promised not to repeat them, dave might have forgiven him. for dave was not a fighter by nature. physically the two were well matched, with the advantage, if any, in favor of len, who was larger than dave. and if len had acknowledged that he was afraid to fight, dave would not have pressed it. but the bully and coward made the mistake of his life. as he sprang to his feet he caught up a stone and suddenly hurled it at dave. the latter ducked just in time to save his head. and then his anger welled up. "so that's your game; is it?" he cried. even then len might have gotten out of it, only he did not. he aimed a wild blow at dave, and then the fight was on. len was no match for dave in skill. the young cowboy easily dodged the blows aimed at him, and for a moment, he refrained from hitting len hard. then, as he saw len again look about for a stone, dave struck him so hard that the bully toppled over. "it's no more than you deserve!" dave exclaimed. len got up, and with a cry rushed at his opponent. again, dave sent him down. but i am not going to give you all the details of that fight which was soon over. len, bruised and sore, cried out that he had had enough. "that'll teach you to behave after this, i guess," said dave, as he moved over toward his horse. len did not answer for a moment. he, too, approached his steed. and when he was mounted he cast a look full of anger and hate at dave, and said: "you wait! i'll get even with you yet!" it was the usual retort of a sneak and coward. "you had your chance," said dave, grimly. "if you couldn't take advantage of it that's not my fault." then he rode off, collected the strays he was looking for, and made his way back to the ranch. "what's the matter, dave?" asked pocus pete, as he saw the lad leap from his pony. "did you have a fall?" "no, it was the other fellow," was the grim answer. "len?" "yes." "does he look anything like you?" "worse!" dave's face was scratched and one eye bruised. "well, i s'pose it had to be," chuckled pocus pete. "what'd he do, try to rope you?" "no. he wouldn't have much chance at that, even if i was not on crow." then dave told the story of the encounter. "well," said peter reflectively, "i reckon, just as some one said about dogs, that a certain amount of fleas was good for 'em, a little fightin' is good for some fellows. are you sure len got enough?" he asked anxiously. "he said so," replied dave, sententiously. "well, he ought to know," was pete's dry comment. life at bar u ranch went on in much the same way for many days. there was a great deal of work to be done, and dave did his share. but, all the while, he could not shake from his mind the memory of the revealed secret regarding himself. "i wonder who i am?" he asked himself again and again. but he could not answer. he made up his mind that some day he would have a long talk with mr. carson, and see if there was not some way in which clews to his lost parents could be obtained. "there must be some," reflected dave. mr. bellmore had almost recovered now. he could ride his horse about, and often accompanied dave on the latter's trips. the chicago man could limp about fairly well, but in the west, at least on the cattle ranges, little walking is done. if a person has only to go across the street it is the most natural thing in the world to leap to the saddle to cover the distance. "well, i think i must get busy on that water business now," said mr. bellmore one day, when he and dave had come in from a little round-up. "it won't do to wait any longer. my people will be wondering why i am taking such a long vacation." "they know you were hurt; don't they?" asked dave. "oh, yes, but i'm practically well again." "what are your plans?" "i must see if i can get some concerted action in forming an irrigation company. i think i shall talk to mr. molick, even if his son and you are not on friendly terms." "oh, don't let that stand in the way of business," dave said, heartily. "i hope you won't misunderstand my motives," said the water agent. "not at all." it was a few days after this that pocus pete, coming in from a distant part of the range, said to dave and mr. carson. "i see they're putting up some new fences along the river on the centre o ranch." "is that so?" asked mr. carson. "that's news to me, i wonder what that means?" "perhaps i can tell you," said mr. bellmore. "i have made some arrangements with mr. molick about water rights. he is going into the irrigation scheme with me. i really need him, as he owns certain patents in the water course. i meant to mention it to you, but it slipped my mind." "so you are going in with molick?" asked mr. carson, in a curious tone of voice. "yes. is there any objection?" "well, i don't know but what there is," was the reply of the ranch owner. "sit down, and i'll tell you a few things you ought to know, mr. bellmore." chapter xiv a warning dave, who had heard what was said between mr. bellmore and the ranch owner listened with interest and expectation to what would come next. there was an odd manner about the proprietor of bar u--a sort of constraint, and dave fancied there was a little feeling, almost of hostility toward the man he had rescued from such a perilous position. up to now mr. bellmore had enjoyed to the utmost the hospitality of bar u ranch. mr. bellmore had been made very welcome, and he had had every care and attention while unable to use his injured foot. now it seemed that a spirit of hostility had cropped out. "before i go on to say what i intend to-to give you a warning in other words," said mr. carson, "let me ask you, mr. bellmore if you know why molick is putting up new fences along the water course? i'd like to know the reason for that before i give you my warning." "a warning!" exclaimed the irrigation man, and there was evident surprise manifested in his tone. "yes, a warning," repeated the ranch owner. "but please do not mistake my meaning. i'm not warning you of any threatened danger, but only of being careful what business dealings you have with jason molick, or any of his men." "oh, i thought you meant you were going to warn me to move on," and dave fancied his friend laughed with an air of relief. "nothing like that yet," said mr. carson, smiling. "but about the fences, concerning which pocus pete spoke to me?" "well, i suggested to mr. molick that he'd better put them up," said mr. bellmore. "you did!" there was great surprise manifested in the exclamation of mr. carson. "why, yes, i did." "what for?" asked mr. carson. "of course you know that if land is allowed to go unfenced for twenty years--or for a longer or shorter period according to different states--that the land becomes public property, or at least the public has a right-of-way over it and it can not be closed off. i did not want, in case our irrigation company took up mr. molick's land, to have a public right-of-way over it, especially so near the water. it might spoil our legal title. so i told him to fence it in before we did any business." "then you haven't done any business yet?" "not actually closed it, no. i am about to, and then i hope to do some business with you." mr. bellmore smiled frankly, but mr. carson's face was grave as he answered: "well, i don't know. i'm afraid you can't do business with both of us, mr. bellmore." "why not?" asked the chicago man, somewhat surprised. "because mr. molick and i--to be frank about it--don't pull together any too well. i'm not saying whose fault it is, but he and i have been on the outs for some time, and his men are continually seeking to pick quarrels with my men. he has taken more than his share of the water that is supposed to be for our joint use, and when i objected he was very ugly about it." "i feel it my duty to warn you that if you have any business dealings with him to look well to your own interests. he will take every legal advantage, and some that, in my opinion, are not legal." "you surprise me!" exclaimed mr. bellmore. "i did not know that he was that kind of man." "well, he is," put in dave. "you mustn't think we cowpunchers are in the habit of giving our neighbors black eyes, mr. bellmore," went on the young cowboy, "but it is for your own interests that my father is speaking." dave did not hesitate at the word of relationship now. mr. bellmore did not know the secret. "oh, i think i understand," the water-man said. "i'm sorry i began negotiations with molick, but i don't very well see how i can get out of them. i need his water rights." "perhaps he hasn't as many rights as you think he has," suggested mr. carson. "what do you mean?" "i mean there's a dispute about the river boundary lines. i claim more water than i'm getting, but i'm not in a position to enforce my claims just at present. that is why i wanted to know about the fences. it may be that molick is encroaching." "i'd be sorry to hear that," mr. bellmore said. "when i told him to go ahead and fence in certain open tracts, so we would know just where the water boundaries extended, i had no idea i would cause you trouble, mr. carson." "you haven't--yet," was the dry answer. "and i don't intend to!" went on the chicago man. "oh, if there's any trouble, i'll not lay it at your door," went on the ranch owner, smiling grimly. "it will be molick who causes it, if anybody does. but i want, for your own good, to warn you against this man. he has done a lot of mean things in this section, and he is capable of doing more. he's as mean as they make 'em, and i truly hate to say that about a neighbor." "oh, i accept it in confidence," replied mr. bellmore. "i know you do, and that's why i didn't hesitate. i thought it my duty," resumed the owner of bar u ranch. "i've come to like you a heap since dave brought you here. seems almost as though you were kin to us. that's why i'd hate to see you wronged. and you surely will be outwitted if you don't watch molick. he'd take the eye teeth out of a stuffed alligator if he wasn't watched, and sell 'em for watch charms. dave knows him!" "oh, yes. he's made a lot of trouble for us," dave assented. "well, i don't know exactly what to do," said mr. bellmore, slowly. "i have asked molick to go ahead, and have practically promised to do business with him. i can hardly back out now. if i did he might begin suit against my company, claiming a breach of contract." "he'd do that if he had half a chance," answered mr. carson. "but perhaps matters are not so bad as they seem. he's just begun to build the fences, so pocus pete says. it may not be too late to stop him. we'll take a run out that way to-morrow and see what's going on. meanwhile, consider yourself warned against jason molick, mr. bellmore." "i shall, and i thank you for telling me. i hope to do business with you, also, in this water matter." "well, if molick has his way i won't have any water to negotiate about," said the ranch owner grimly. "however, we'll go and take a look at the fences to-morrow." chapter xv retaliation benjamin bellmore's injured foot was now so nearly healed that he had no difficulty in getting about on horseback. true, he had to favor the injured member somewhat, but that did not greatly hinder him; accordingly, early on the morning following the conversation of warning, the irrigation man, dave, mr. carson and pocus pete set out across bar u ranch to see what the molicks were doing. "well, they're at it, i see," remarked dave, as the little party topped a rise and saw, down in the river valley below them, a number of men erecting fence posts and stringing barbed wire. "yes, he doesn't lose any time, that's one thing i'll say for jason molick," answered the ranch owner. indeed molick's forces were very active. they seemed to be in a hurry to get a certain length of fence up before night, and as dave looked at the cowboys and others employed, he realized that the owner of centre o ranch had called in from the distant parts of his holdings most of his employees and set them to work on the fence. nor was this all. farther off another gang of men, with picks and shovels, seemed to be erecting a small dam, partially across a narrow part of rolling river. "hello!" exclaimed mr. carson in surprise, as he saw their activities. "what does that mean?" "it's some irrigation work," explained mr. bellmore. "molick didn't believe me when i said that even a small dam would impound enough water to supply not only a good herd of cattle but would also water the dry land. so i told him to try it himself, and see how it worked. i thought if he had a practical demonstration he would be willing to go into the scheme with me. but that was before i had your warning," he added with a look at the ranchman. "hum, yes," said mr. carson, musingly. "well, molick has a right to do as he pleases on his own land, of course--at least i reckon so. but i don't like that business of putting a dam across part of the river." "why not?" asked dave. "he might shut off too much water," was the answer. "that's so!" put in pocus pete. "quite a bunch of our cattle depend for a drink on what they get from rolling river, and we've got a lot of cattle below there now," and he pointed to a section south of that part of the valley in which the work was going on. "oh, well, we'll not cross a bridge until we come to it," said mr. carson. "i'll not assume that molick is going to do anything wrong. but when he does," he added reflectively, "then he'd better look out." "i hope i sha'n't have started a quarrel," put in mr. bellmore. "don't worry," laughed dave. "it doesn't take much to start a quarrel with the molicks. maybe it'll not amount to anything, anyhow. say, but he is putting up some fence all right!" indeed the operations were on a large scale, and seemed to indicate that the molick outfit had made good preparations. mr. bellmore seemed very thoughtful. he sat on his horse, looking at the work, for the starting of which he was, in a measure, responsible. then he remarked: "i think i'll get out of this while i can. i'm sorry i made any tentative proposition to molick but there's time enough yet to withdraw. i'll tell him our irrigation company can't go into that water deal with him. can i depend on you to make some arrangements with me, regarding your water rights?" he asked of mr. carson. "well, if you give me all the particulars, and i find them to be as you say, i wouldn't have any objections to going in," replied the ranchman slowly. "i surely do need more water for my cattle and land, and if irrigation, conservation, or whatever you call it, is going to bring it about, i'll be only too glad to go into it with you. isn't that what you say, dave?" the youth hesitated a moment. he felt a warm glow in his heart that the man he had so long regarded as his father reposed this much faith and confidence in him, when the secret had been disclosed. "yes, dad," said dave, slowly, "i should think it would be a good thing to go in with mr. bellmore's company." "i thought you'd say so. and now let's hear from pocus pete. i always like to let my foreman have a word to say," he added to the chicago man. "and i think you do right," was the comment. "what's your idea, pete?" asked mr. carson. "why, i say go into it! that is, if we can get away from molick. i never did like the idea of him controllin' so much of rollin' river. now if we can have all the water of our own we want, so much the better. go into it, i says!" "then it's decided," announced mr. carson. "we'll go in with you, provided you are not so tied up with molick that you can't unfetter yourself." "i think there's no danger of that," said mr. bellmore. "i only made a tentative arrangement with him. i'll go over at once and tell him i've reconsidered my plans." "there he is now," said dave, pointing to two figures on horses, riding down toward the centre o workers. "yes, and that bully, len, is with him," added pocus pete. "do you want to turn back, dave?" he asked with a mischievous glance. "indeed i don't!" was the quick reply, and the eyes of the young cowboy flashed. mr. carson's land, at this point, extended down to the edge of rolling river, where the stream made a sharp turn. on the opposite shore were the molick workmen. and as dave, the ranchman and the others rode forward, jason molick and his son also approached the stream from their side of it. len glanced up and looked at dave, but gave no other sign. probably he had not told of the drubbing he had received. "can i ride across here?" asked mr. bellmore of mr. carson, after a few minutes conversation, during which jason molick was inspecting the progress of his workmen. "yes, the river, is very shallow here. go ahead! we'll wait for you. i don't want to go on his land." the irrigation man left his friends and, crossing the stream on his horse's back, was soon approaching mr. molick. "well, how do you think we're coming on?" asked len's father. "i took your advice, you see--i'm going in with you on this deal. i think it's a good one, i'm ready to sign the papers whenever you say so." "well--er--i don't want to disappoint you, after what has taken place, mr. molick," began the chicago man in rather an embarrassed fashion, "but the truth of the matter is that i guess there won't be any papers to sign." "no papers to sign! what do you mean?" "i mean that the deal is off!" "the deal off? you mean the irrigation scheme you agreed to go into with me?" and mr. molick's voice rose. "yes, that deal is off," went on the engineer. "you remember i only broached it to you. i did not clinch it. i pointed out its advantages to you, and you were eager to go in. i said i would talk to you later about it." "and now you come and say you don't want to go into it with me?" asked molick in sneering tones. "yes, that is a right i reserved, you remember." "huh! i know what has made him back out!" exclaimed len. "what?" asked his father. "he's been talking to them!" and len pointed to dave and the others from bar u ranch across the stream. "ha! so that's the game!" exclaimed mr. molick. "well, i'll show you that two can play at it, mr. bellmore!" he sneered. "if you don't want to go into this scheme with me, after promising--" "i never promised!" interrupted the other. "well, it was the same thing. but if you don't want to go in i can get along without you. i guess you'll find you're not the only one around here who knows about dams and irrigation ditches. i and my son have some brains. we'll show you a thing or two!" "that's what we will!" boasted len. "i'm sure i don't wish to curtail your activities in any way," replied the chicago man. "i hope you have all sorts of success. but i do not feel like going on with the scheme i outlined." "because, i suppose, you're going in with the bar u folks?" suggested len. "i haven't said so," was the quiet retort. "no, but i can read signs. well, there's one thing i want to tell you!" len went on in threatening tones. "i warn you off our land--you and the carson bunch. and as for that dave, if i catch him i'll give him the worst licking he ever had." "seems to me it was the other way around," retorted mr. bellmore, with a grim smile. "at least it was the last time you met." "huh!" snorted len. "well, tell him to look out, that's all!" "i don't think there is any need of that," said mr. bellmore. "i think dave can look after himself. but now i'll bid you good day." "and don't you trespass on centre o ranch again!" was mr. molick's warning. "i've seen enough of you." mr. bellmore felt the same way about it, but did not think it necessary to say so. he rode slowly back across the stream and rejoined his friends. "well?" asked dave. "it's all off," the chicago man said. "i've ended negotiations with them, and i'm sorry i ever tried to do business. but it will be all right. they can do business in their own way, and we'll do ours as we please. i'll look into the irrigation possibilities on your property now, mr. carson. we'll not hear anything more from the molick outfit." but mr. bellmore failed to reckon on the mean characters of the molick father and son. it was only a few days after this that one of the cowboys came riding post-haste to the ranch house. he dismounted in a cloud of dust, and seeing dave and mr. carson standing together hurried toward them, calling out: "th' bottom must have dropped out of rolling river. it's almost dry down below there, where i've got that bunch of fine cattle, and they can't get anything to drink. what are we going to do? something must have happened to th' river." "what can it be?" cried dave. "has an earthquake occurred, or has the river unexpectedly taken an underground course?" "neither one, i imagine," said mr. carson, slowly. "this is retaliation, i fancy. i'll go back with you skinny, and see what has happened. but i'm sure it's retaliation." chapter xvi unavailing efforts dave, who had heard this talk, leaped on the back of crow, and followed mr. carson and the cowboy who rejoiced in the euphonious title of "skinny." "what do you mean by retaliation, dad?" he asked. "has it anything to do with the molicks?" "a whole lot to do with them, dave, i'm afraid," was the reply. "you mean they have diverted some of your water?" "some of it! better say all of it!" exclaimed the disgusted skinny. "there ain't enough comin' down rollin' river, over where i come from, t' make a cup of coffee." "as bad as that?" asked mr. carson in alarm. "well, almost. i got skeered and made up my mind i'd come and tell you about it." "you did just right, skinny. we may be able to get ahead of these chaps after all." "i hope we can," murmured dave. though dave had seldom, for any length of time, lost sight of the fact that he was a "nobody," still he could not help feeling an interest in the ranch, which had been the only home he had known for a long time. in fact it was really the only home he knew, for he did not, of course, recall his days of babyhood. and now, though dave knew that he was not mr. carson's son, though he realized that he might never inherit the broad acres over which roamed thousands of cattle, still he retained the feeling of loyalty and fealty that caused him to hope for the best. "i wonder if i'll ever find my real folks," mused dave, as he rode on with mr. carson and skinny. "it's hardly possible, after all these years." over the rolling plains they rode, now and then catching sight of distant herds of cattle under the guard of cowboys, again gaining a view of the distant centre o ranch. but they saw no sign of molick or len, nor could they catch, in the direction they were going, a glimpse of the place where the fence work and dam building had been going on. a little later they topped another rise, and began to descend into a sheltered and fertile valley where mr. carson usually sent his choice cattle to fatten before shipping them to the dealers in chicago and elsewhere. as the three came within sight of this valley they saw a strange sight instead of the cattle quietly grazing, with perhaps small bunches of them wandering now and then to the banks of the stream to get a drink, the whole herd seemed scattered along the water course. and instead of quietly drinking the cattle seemed fighting among themselves. pushing, struggling, rearing with heads up against one another, bellowing and stampeding. on the outside vainly rode two or three cowboys who were doing their best to keep the rearmost cattle from rushing over those in the front rank, who were nearest the water. "what does it mean?" demanded mr. carson of skinny, as he urged his horse forward. "what does it mean?" "it's a stampede!" cried dave. "maybe len is trying some of his mean tricks again." "it's a trick, but it isn't any like that," said skinny. "none of that molick crowd is around here now." "but what's the matter?" demanded the ranchman. "water--or, rather lack of water," said the cowboy briefly. "the cattle are half mad with thirst i expect. and i guess maybe it isn't so much of a real thirst as it is the fear that there won't be any water left after an hour or two. cattle know more that way than we give 'em credit for." "this is serious!" exclaimed mr. carson. "i thought you'd think so. that's why i come for you," skinny explained. the three rode down the slope, the confusion among the cattle increasing every moment. "what can you do?" asked dave. "have to drive 'em over to the other range, there's water there, i should think," mr. carson answered. "that is, if molick and his bunch haven't tried any of their tricks there." "no, they can't stop the supply there," said skinny. "it's only here, where the river takes a sharp turn above us, that they could cut off the supply." "then you think there's no question but that they did it?" as had dave of mr. carson. "hardly any doubt," was the reply. "but of course i'll look into it. watch out now, dave. those cattle are fairly wild, and i don't want you to be hurt." the ranchman looked affectionately at the youth, and dave felt a warm spot in his heart for the man who had done so much for him. "i don't believe we can drive 'em back until they've licked up every last drop," said skinny. "then they'll know there's no use in stayin' and we may be able to do somethin' with 'em." "is it drying up as badly as that?" asked mr. carson. "you'll soon see," was the answer. only skillful cowpunchers could have made their way through that maddened, seething, wild herd of cattle. but dave, mr. carson and skinny were more at home in the saddle than afoot. their intelligent ponies pushed their way through the heaving mass of steers until the three of them stood on the brink of what had been a fair-sized branch of the rolling river but a few hours before. now all that showed was a small, narrow ribbon of muddy water, in the clay-like expanse of what had been the bed of the original stream. "whew!" whistled mr. carson. "this sure is bad!" "i should say so!" exclaimed dave. a sharp bend in the course of the stream above them cut off all but a very limited view. but, as far as they could see, the same conditions prevailed. there was only a small trickle of water. it was in the very middle, the lowest point of the stream, and up to the very edge of this the thirst-tortured cattle pressed, sinking down deep in the soft mud. "we've got to get 'em out of that," declared the ranchman. "a lot of 'em will be mired if we don't." "there are some mired now," said skinny, pointing. "ed and foster are trying to yank 'em out." he indicated two cowboys who, with ropes around the mired steers, were trying to drag them to solid ground. other animals, though, were pressing in to make their way to the water. it was a hot day, and bore a promise of being hotter. it needed but a glance to show that the water would soon fail entirely. and it was evident what had caused it. at some point, higher up, the supply had been cut off or diverted. "well," said mr. carson quickly, like a general on the field meeting a reverse, and deciding on the best way to save the day, "well, the only thing we can do is to get the cattle off this range. take 'em over to the spring, skinny-you and the rest of the boys. fight 'em hard-it's the only way. i'll ride on up and see what's happened to our water supply. dave, you ride back and get mr. bellmore. maybe he can tell us a way out of this trouble. he's a water engineer." thus were the orders issued, and the cowboys and dave prepared to carry them out. hardly had mr. carson ceased speaking than skinny rode off with a whoop to aid his fellows. dave watched for a moment as the cowboys prepared to move the herd of valuable cattle. it would be hard work to get them away from the water while a drop yet remained in the muddy pools. but it must be done, for if the steers were allowed to remain there many of them would be mired, and in the fight for water others would be trampled on and killed. as dave galloped back to the ranch to summon the irrigation engineer he saw mr. carson head his pony for the bend, above which was the beginning of the centre o ranch. then the young cowpuncher gave a look at the strenuous efforts of the cowboys to move the maddened cattle. "they'll have their own troubles," dave reasoned. "i'll help them as soon as i get back." he covered the distance to the ranch in record time, and found mr. bellmore busy over some calculations. the engineer was surprised to learn what had happened, and at once jumped on his horse and galloped off with dave. when they again reached the valley mr. carson had not yet returned from his trip to the bend, but the cattle were in a worse tangle than before. the cowboys efforts to drive them away from what was now nothing but a long mudhole, were unavailing. "something's got to be done!" cried skinny. "we've lost some already, and more will die soon. we've got to get 'em away from here. but we can't as long as they smell even the mud. what's to be done?" dave looked gloomily on, but could not answer. could the engineer solve the problem? chapter xvii the round-up again and again did the weary cowboys try to force the maddened cattle to move away from the now veritable mud hole, that they might drive them to another range where there was water for them to drink. but the steers, usually intelligent in this matter, seemed to have lost all their instinct. they only wanted to remain near the spot where they had been accustomed to drink. "say, this is fierce!" cried mr. bellmore. "it certainly is," agreed dave. "what can we do?" "let's see if we can't lend a hand to get the animals off, and on the move," suggested the engineer. "those cowboys need help." skinny and his mates certainly did. they were almost exhausted from their strenuous labors. but even with the experienced help of dave, and the well-meant efforts of mr. bellmore, the cattle could not be moved. they fought for places at the edge of the stream-which was a stream no longer, but only a slough, in which more than one fine steer was now mired. "it's of no use," said skinny, wearily, after a bit. "you can't budge 'em! they'll have to die here." "no they won't!" exclaimed the engineer. "how are you goin' t' stop 'em?" asked another of the cowboys. "they can't get any water here, they won't leave, an' everybody knows that without water cattle can't live long." "if we can't drive 'em to water we'll have to do the next best thing." "and that is--" began dave. "bring the water to them!" "but how can we? the supply is cut off somewhere above. dad went to see about it, but he hasn't come back yet." "then we'll go up there too. something's got to be done. it may take desperate measures, but if the molicks have built a dam, to divert your water from here, we'll have to open it; that's all." "will they let you?" asked skinny, settling wearily in his saddle. "we'll do it whether they let us or not!" exclaimed the engineer. "it's my fault, in a way, that they did this, for i pointed out the advantage it would be to them to have a dam, and i'll do my best to make good the trouble caused. come on, dave. well ride up above and see what we can do. meanwhile, you boys do your best to keep the cattle from stampeding. they won't let themselves be driven away, that's sure, so we've got to bring water to them." "if we only can," murmured cowboy dave. he felt it to be a hopeless task. now that the cowboys had given over their efforts to drive the cattle away from the water-hole the beasts were quieter. left to themselves, they scattered somewhat and sought for places where little pools might have formed, and where they could slake their thirst. it was not much water that remained, and the bellowings of the cattle, and their panting appearance as their parched tongues fairly hung from their mouths, filled the hearts of dave and his friend with pity for the poor beasts. "we haven't any time to lose," said mr. bell-more, as he urged his horse, kurd, toward the bend of the stream. dave, on crow, followed, wondering what would be the outcome. dave glanced back from time to time at the thirst-maddened cattle. some of them forced their way into the muddy sloughs in spite of the desperate efforts of the cowboys to drive them back. then it was necessary to try to pull them out by lariats attached to them, and extending to the horns of the saddles. "poor beasts!" murmured the young cow-puncher. he and mr. bellmore had ridden for perhaps a mile when they saw a figure galloping toward them. "who's that?" asked the engineer, pulling up suddenly. "dad," answered dave. "he rode up to investigate. he'll be able to tell us what happened." "it's easy enough to guess," said mr. bellmore. "the molicks have built an intercepting dam, to get even with you and me." and this was exactly what mr. carson reported as he rode up. "they've cut off our water supply," he called to dave and the engineer. "they've made a board and mud dam right across the river, and turned the water onto their own land. they're making irrigating ditches now as fast as they can work." "i suspected as much," mr. bellmore said, "is the dam a very big or strong one?" "not especially so. but the water is low at this season of the year, and it doesn't take much of a dam to block it off from me. this dam is made of boards, banked up with clay and stones." "would it be easy to break away?" asked the engineer. "yes, i suppose so. but molick will take precious good care that it doesn't break away, they're strengthening it all the while." "oh, i didn't suppose it would break away of its own accord," the engineer said. "i meant would we have much trouble in making a breach in it?" "we?" cried dave. "do you mean--" "i mean that we've got to break that dam to save your cattle!" the engineer said. "it's the only way!" "break the dam!" murmured dave. yet his eyes sparkled at the thought. "yes," assented the irrigation engineer. "but we can't do that," objected mr. carson. "it's on molick's land, and if we go there, and start something, he'll fight us. he is a desperate man." "and so ought you to be with your cattle dying of thirst," said mr. bellmore. "i am, but--" "there aren't any buts about it," declared the other. "this is a desperate situation, and we'll have to meet it desperately. morally, right is on your side, and i think it is legally, too. i've been looking into the records and titles of lands along this rolling river and i find that you have not received all the water rights that belong to you, mr. carson. on the other hand molick has taken more than his share. "and there is no doubt that he had no right to build the dam in the way he has. he should have let some water come down to you. now the only way to accomplish this is to make a breach in the dam. this will let your cattle drink." "but if we do that--break the dam--he'll either fight us to prevent it, or he'll build it up again," dave said. "he may fight, but i doubt it. he was warned once before that he was exceeding his property rights, and he can't claim ignorance now. and while it is true that he may build the dam over again, after we cut through it, i don't so much care for that." "a change will have to be made anyhow, but if you can get a little water, temporarily, to your cattle it will save them, and you can drive them to other ranges." "yes, i could do that," admitted the ranch-man. "then on to the dam!" cried the engineer, turning his horse as he spoke. "hurrah!" exclaimed dave. "that's the way to talk!" urged on by the thought of the suffering cattle, the three made good speed to the place where the river turned. there, as mr. carson had seen a short time before, was the newly-built dam. a number of cowboys were about it, and dave saw len, his enemy. "are you game?" asked the engineer. "i am!" exclaimed the ranchman. dave said nothing, but there was a flash in his eyes as he nodded his head that told more than mere words. "you and i will go up and have a talk with them," suggested mr. bellmore. "meanwhile dave can ride and get some of your men, mr. carson. we'll need help if it comes to a fight, though i hope it won't. we'll make a formal protest first. hurry, dave, every minute may mean a steer's life." dave whirled his steed about and rode hard and straight for the nearest range where some of the bar u men were guarding the cattle. meanwhile mr. carson and the engineer crossed the stream below the dam, and rode toward the centre o boys. "well, what do you want?" surlily demanded the young heir of the house of molick. "this is private land, and no trespassers are wanted. get off!" he snarled. "we came on business," said mr. carson. "where's your father?" "i don't know. but he told me if you came on this land to order you off, and that's what i do!" "ordering and going are two different things," said the ranchman, with a grim laugh. "you've cut off my water down below, with this dam, and i order you to open it up. my cattle are dying from thirst. open this dam!" "not much!" sneered whitey wasson, len's crony. "but i tell you my cattle are dying, man!" exclaimed mr. carson. "you know what it means to steers to be without water this kind of weather." "you ought to have thought of that before you pastured them down there," sneered the cowboy. "then you refuse to open the dam?" asked mr. bellmore. "we certainly do!" returned len. "then you must take the consequences," said mr. bellmore, speaking solemnly. "you will be sued for the value of every animal that dies of thirst, as well as being obliged to pay heavy damages for the trouble you have caused. i know the situation of water rights in this valley, and i tell you that you are acting illegally. now do you still refuse to open that dam?" len looked a bit frightened at this warning, but whitey whispered to him, and the son of jason molick answered: "go on! we're not afraid. this dam is on our land and you can't touch it!" at that moment a distant whoop sounded. mr. carson and the engineer looked around and saw a cloud of dust approaching. it soon resolved itself into dave, leading a number of cowboys who bore picks and shovels--rather unusual implements for cowpunchers. on they came, hard-riding, singing and shouting, eager for the fray. they outnumbered the centre o outfit. "well, since you won't open the dam, we'll have to do it for you," went on mr. bellmore. "lively, boys!" he called, as dave and his friends rode up. "tear out the dam and let the water down where it ought to run. lively now!" "don't you touch that dam!" screamed len. "go on! i order you to tear it away!" said mr. carson to his men. "whoop!" they yelled in response, and a moment later, flinging themselves from their horses, they swarmed into the water and began the work of destruction. dave, mr. carson and the engineer looked anxious for a moment, feeling that the centre o boys might put up a fight. but not a gun was drawn. perhaps the cowboys employed by the molick outfit were disgusted with the tactics of their employer, when they heard the story of the thirst-dying cattle. no true cowboy would countenance that sort of thing. so they looked on idly while the bar u men tore away the dam. a little trickle of water came through, flowing down the course from which it had been diverted. gradually it grew in volume until a gushing stream filled the muddy bed of the stream. "that's what was needed," murmured dave. "that will save our cattle." "stop it! let that dam alone!" yelled len, over and over again. but no one paid any attention to him--not even the cowboys of the centre o. they only smiled and rolled cigarettes. perhaps they were glad to see len beaten. but the bully and whitey wasson were whispering together, and soon they rode off at a gallop. "they've gone to get the old man," said one of the bar u cowboys. "we don't care," dave said. "enough water has gone down now to save our cattle, and it will be some time before they can build up that dam again." "that's right," agreed mr. bellmore. "you needn't try to save any of the boards," he added significantly to the cowboys who were destroying the obstruction. and so he work went on, and when it had been accomplished the bar u boys rode away to their usual tasks. for much remained to be done. "we've got to get the cattle off that range," said mr. carson. "molick will have that dam in place again as soon as he can, and it will be the same story over again." "that's what he will," assented the engineer. "and though i think you could stop him by legal action, it would take so long that your cattle would die of thirst. the best way is to remove them, and fight him afterward." the pent-up waters were now rushing down their accustomed channel, and when the cattle range was reached the steers were drinking their fill. most of them had been saved, only a few died, but some choice ones were included in this number. "and now for the big round-up!" exclaimed mr. carson, when the cattle, their thirst slaked, were willing to be driven on. "i'll move all my stock to some place where molick can't kill them off. then i'll fight him to the last ditch!" "hurrah!" cried dave. "hurrah for the round-up!" yelled the cowboys. it meant hard work, but it meant excitement, too, and that was a large part of their lives. chapter xviii a midnight blaze once the thirsty cattle had satisfied their longing for water, it was a comparatively easy matter to drive them from the temporary range where they had been sent to fatten. the river was running at its usual rate, but of course it could not be said how long this would continue. "len and his father will get busy and build that dam again," remarked dave, as he and mr. bellmore, with pocus pete and the cowboys, herded the cattle together to drive them away. "yes, i suppose so, until we can take legal action against him," assented the water agent, who was rapidly learning the rudiments of cow-punching. "and legal action is going to take a long time," said mr. carson. "i haven't done any more of it than i've had to in my life, but it is mighty slow action." "but it is sure in the end," said mr. bellmore. "and i am positive that right is on your side." "well, we won't take any more chances with the cattle getting water here--at least for a while," said the ranch owner. "we'll make the main round-up while we're at it, and then we'll see what we can do. i'll sell off a big supply of steers, and that will mean less water will be required. then i'll be in a better position to make a fight against molick and his crowd." "that's a good idea--reducing your cattle until the water matter is settled," the chicago man said. talking and laughing among themselves, at the manner in which they had destroyed the dam, and let in the water to its former course, the cowboys rode along, driving the cattle. not all who had been summoned for this work were needed to drive the steers, since they went willingly enough. "so some of you had better ride on ahead to the ranch house, and get ready for the round-up tomorrow," said mr. carson. "there'll be busy times, then. and, too," he added in a low voice, "i rather want them around the place just at present." "why?" asked dave. "oh, you never can tell what molick will do," was the answer. "you mean he might try to be revenged on you for opening the dam?" asked mr. bellmore. "something like that--yes. it wouldn't be the first time if a barn or bunk house or a pile of fodder should go up in smoke. such things have occurred here." "and was it never found out who did it?" "well, we had our suspicions. almost always the one who suffered was on the outs with the molick crowd." "i think i'll ride back myself," dave said. "i've got a few possessions i wouldn't like to have damaged." "i'll go with you," offered mr. bellmore. "there are some valuable papers on this irrigation scheme that i wouldn't like to lose, or see fall into the hands of strangers." "oh, i don't really believe there is any danger," went on mr. carson. "i was just taking the utmost precaution. but ride on if you want to, dave. we can handle the cattle all right now, and i want to talk to pocus pete about the round-up." so dave and his friend rode on ahead, following some of the cowboys who had been summoned to tear away the dam. now that the excitement was over dave felt a little reaction, which generally follows high tension. as dave looked at the young man riding beside him he could not help contrasting their two positions. "i guess he knows all right who he is," mused dave. "no worrying about his father and mother or about his future. as for me, i don't know whether i'm a rag-picker's son, or whether i came from a millionaire's family." yet, as he thought it over more soberly, dave could not help thinking that he must have had as parents persons in that broad, and altogether desirable, middle class. "if they were millionaires they would hardly have been living in a small missouri town," reasoned the young cowboy, "and if i came from rag-picker ancestors i'd have had on such ragged clothes that mr. carson would have noticed that and spoken of it. and that reminds me. i must ask him about the clothing i wore, and about how old i was. maybe he kept the garments, and they might form a clew. yes, that's what i'll do. i'll ask mr. carson about it." to himself dave always thought of the ranchman as "mr. carson," though when he spoke he called him "dad," for he did not want strangers to surmise concerning the secret, nor did he wish to hurt the man who had been a father to him. "anything wrong?" inquired mr. bellmore, as they cantered along. "wrong? no. why?" asked dave, looking up suddenly. "why you're as glum as an owl, and as silent as one of these prairie dogs," went on the engineer. "you haven't said a word for over a mile. is something troubling you?" "yes--that is, no!" exclaimed dave. "i was--just thinking." "oh, i could see that," returned the other with a laugh. "well, if it's anything about this water business, don't worry. molick and his crowd may bother your father for a time, but bar u ranch will win out--i'm sure of it!" "i hope so," murmured dave. "they're a mean crowd, though," and he thought of the cowardly taunt of len molick--the taunt which had first given him the clew to his lack of identity. "well, i'll do all i can for you and your father," went on the engineer. "i owe a great deal to you both. in fact i am convinced that i owe my life to you." "oh, pshaw!" deprecated dave. "yes, that's a fact," went on mr. bellmore. "i might have lain caught there in that gully until i died, for it is a lonely place." "yes, that's true enough," agreed dave. "and so, in a small way, i'm going to do all i can to repay you," said the chicago man. "i know something about water rights, irrigation and title deeds to streams, even if i'm not much on the cowpunching," he added with a smile, "and such knowledge as i have is at your service." "well, i'm sure we'll appreciate it--dad and i," said dave. "now let's try a little run. crow is just spoiling for a good gallop, and the way from here home is as fine a track as you'd want." calling to his horse, dave set him at a gallop, being followed by mr. bellmore on kurd, and the two indulged in an impromptu race, reaching the ranch house at the same time. "hi there, hop loy!" called dave. "grub ready?" "alle same leady velly soon," said the amiable chinese, with a cheerful grin, "how you like plan-cakes?" "plan-cakes strike me as about right; don't they you, mr. bellmore?" "i should say they would be eminently fitting and proper," returned the engineer with a laugh. presently there were busy scenes being enacted at bar u ranch as the cowboys came in from their various stations, including those men who were with mr. carson, driving in the cattle that had been in such danger. "grub" in other words, supper, was served, a prodigious number of "plan-cakes" being consumed. but far from being annoyed, hop loy was pleased the more the boys ate. his shrill voice, singing a chinese song, rose higher and higher as he toiled in his kitchen, baking stack after stack of the brown cakes. "velly much glood eat!" he exclaimed with a grin. "hop, you're all right!" cried pocus pete. "your pig-tail is safe with us!" declared tubby larkin, as he passed his plate for more cakes. preparations for the round-up were made that night, and the real work began next morning. a round-up on a cattle ranch, as i suppose you all know, means just what the word implies. a rounding up, or bringing together, of all the beasts, that a count may be made and some disposed of. when the cattle roamed freely about the plains there was an intermingling of herds, and the only way one man could tell his "critters" from those of his neighbor, was by the brand marks on their flanks, or cuts in the ears. of course in later years when there were more fences, the work became easier. in the round-up the calves born since the last accounting are branded, and cattle matters generally are straightened out, and settled for the ensuing year. and this was the work that dave and his cowboy friends did. the main object of having it done now at the bar u ranch was to provide for the water contingency. mr. carson realized that molick would probably soon again shut off a portion of his supply. "and if i can't get enough water for all my cattle i'll have to keep a smaller number until the tangle is straightened out," said the ranchman, "i'll sell off while i have the chance, and buy later in the fall." these were busy times. from distant ranges the cattle were driven in. those needing branding were "cut out," or separated from the rest of the herd. with skillful throws of their ropes dave and the others would lasso the creatures, throwing them and holding them to the ground, while another cowpuncher, with an iron made hot in a hastily built fire, imprinted on the flank of the unbranded cow or steer the device of a letter u with a straight bar across it. this marked the animal as mr. carson's. riders dashed here and there, shouting, yelling, now and then laughing, and occasionally firing off big revolvers to turn some refractory steer. the dust-cloud was thick over everything. it coated the faces of the cowboys until they appeared to be wearing masks. now and then one of them would have a fall, but seldom with any serious results. it was work, toil, sweat, ride hard, gallop here and there, yell, shout, leap, stumble, fall and get up again. and gradually something like order came out of the chaos. over at the chuck wagon hop loy stood ready to serve a hasty lunch whenever it was called for. water, thickened with oatmeal, or made spicy with vinegar and ginger, "switchel," as it is called, served to quench the thirst. "well, i guess we have 'em pretty well where we want 'em," said dave, at the close of the day. "pretty good round-up; eh, dad?" "yes, but it isn't over yet," was the answer. mr. carson cast a look at the sky. all his cattle were now gathered in one immense herd, branded, and ready for division during the following few days. a large number would be shipped away, and others would be scattered over the ranch on ranges where the water supply could not be tampered with by jason molick. "thinking of a storm?" asked mr. bellmore, for a midnight storm will sometimes stampede a bunch of cattle more quickly than anything else. "well, i don't like the look of the sky," the ranchman said. "but it may blow over." night on the prairies. night, with a great herd of cattle to be looked after. the cowboys rode slowly around the immense herd, singing their own peculiar songs. some claimed that the cattle were quieter if they heard singing. "though th' way some of those fellers howl is enough t' give any self-respectin' cow critter th' nightmare," declared pocus pete. "go on! you're just jealous 'cause you can't warble!" said skinny. gradually those who were not on night duty rolled themselves up in their blankets and forgot the cares of the day in heavy slumber. dave lay near mr. carson and mr. bellmore. but for some reason or other the young cowboy could not sleep. he stared up at the stars which had been dim, but were now quite bright. "i don't believe we're going to get a storm," mused dave. he arose to get a drink of water, thinking perhaps this change might bring slumber. as he stood for a moment, after quenching his thirst, he gazed over the great dark mass of slightly moving cattle. he heard the distant songs of the cowboys. and then, suddenly, dave saw something else. it was a glow off to the west-a red, dull glow that nearly caused his heart to stop beating. "that's a fire!" he murmured. for a moment he thought of the ranch buildings, but an instant later he knew it was in the opposite direction. the glow increased. it lighted the sky. dave sprang toward the place where the ranchman slept. "fire! fire!" he cried. "the prairie is on fire!" chapter xix fighting fire the cry of fire at any time, is a dreadful one to hear. whether it be in the crowded city, or in the lonely country; whether on board a ship on the heaving ocean, or an alarm given where factory workers are assembled; it is fearsome, always. and though dave and his friends were out on the great, open prairies, where the fire might have full sweep without ever coming near them, yet the cry of the young cowboy roused all instantly. for fire on the prairies means more than would at first seem, and when a herd of cattle is in its path it is a warning that must be heeded at once if one would save the stock. if there is not actual danger from the fire itself, there is the risk of its stampeding the cattle causing them to make a mad rush in which many will be killed. "fire! fire!" yelled dave, but his first cry was enough. all the sleepers jumped to their feet, and an echoing cry came from the cowboys who, on the far side of the herd of cattle were riding around them to keep them from straying. as yet the animals had not taken the alarm. they could not smell the fire, for it was too far away, and the dull, distant glow in the west, as yet, meant nothing to them. nor had dave's cries, and the answers thereto, given them any alarm. they were accustomed to the shouting and yelling of the cowboys day and night, and a little more or less of this noise did not startle them. "fire did you say, dave?" cried mr. carson, as he shook his blanket from him. "yes, dad. over there!" dave pointed to the glow. it was brighter now. "yes, it's a fire sure enough," was the ranchman's remark. "and traveling fast, too." "wind's blowing her this way," remarked pocus pete, who had joined the two. "got t' get busy, boys." that last to the cowboys who were now up, ready for business. "a prairie fire!" cried mr. bellmore. "how are you going to fight it?" "there are only two ways," said pocus pete. "by plowing, or by firing a strip so wide that the main fire can't cross. we won't have time to plow. we've got to fight fire with fire. come on, boys." "oh, if we only had water!" murmured the engineer. "it wouldn't do us much good," said the ranchman. "when that fire gets here it will be a mile or more wide, and no hose would reach that far." "that's right," chimed in dave. he had not seen many prairie fires, but he knew something of their danger. "i guess we'll have to back fire. though we could send for some plows, dad." "yes, and i think i'll do that," the ranchman said. "the wind may shift, and i'd feel better if i had some plowed furrows between that blaze and my cattle." plowing and burning a strip are the two principal methods used in fighting prairie fires. the dry grass of the plains, when it starts to burn, goes like tinder. if it can be done in time, it is often effective to light another fire in front of the one that is rolling forward. this consumes the grass on which the flames feed, and when they reach that spot there is nothing for them to burn. and if one stands on the area burned he will be comparatively safe. of course care must be taken not to get singed in the back-fire. another method is to plow the ground, turning the dried grass under, and leaving only the bare earth exposed. if a strip can be plowed wide enough the fire can not leap over it. "lively now, boys!" called mr. carson. "dave, you go over and help keep the cattle from stampeding. keep 'em milling." this means keeping the animals going around and around in concentric circles, like a mill wheel. when they can be made to do this they seldom break and run wild. "oh, dad! let me go to fight the fire!" pleaded the youth. "all right. only take care of yourself," was the caution. "i'll go and help the boys mill the cattle," offered the water engineer. "i believe i can do that." "i think so, though it isn't going to be an easy task," said the ranchman. the glare of the distant fire was now brighter, and a dull roar could be heard. the cattle seemed to be aware of the danger, and it required hard work on the part of the punchers to keep them from breaking. with shouts and yells, with lashings from their shortened lariats and with shots from their heavy revolvers the punchers did manage, however, to keep the creatures in a compact mass. some cowboys, leaping into the chuck wagon, had started to drive to the ranch buildings to bring back plows and plow horses. they might, if they were lucky, return in time to help in keeping back the flames. but the main fighting force, which dave joined, rode straight toward the onrushing flames in the desperate endeavor to fight fire with fire. they would need to reach a spot, though, where the wind was blowing away from them and the cattle, and toward the main blaze. such places can often be found in the rolling prairie, with its many glades and swales. then, too, the heat of the big fire often creates a vacuum, or back draft, causing air to rush in toward the leaping flames, and making a wind blow toward them that will carry with it the fire started to offset the menacing one. "here's a good spot!" exclaimed pocus pete at length. "scatter along here, boys, and set the grass ablaze." leaping from the backs of their ponies, the cowboys gave the reins into the hands of one of their number to hold, for the horses could not be trusted to stand alone with the fire coming ever nearer them. and without their mounts the cowboys would be lost. the spot where the party now found itself was down in a little depression, or swale, and the wind was blowing away from them and toward the main conflagration. "light, boys!" cried the foreman, as he struck a match and applied it to a bunch of dried grass that made a rude torch. the others, including dave, did the same. soon little spurts of flame in the grass showed where the contending fire was started. "watch it now, boys!" pocus pete warned them. "if you see it starting to creep back on you swat it out. take your blankets, and see if you can't find a water hole. sozzle your blankets in that and swat the blaze if she starts to run back on you." a spring, or, rather a mud-hole that passed for one, was found, and in this the blankets were wet. then, as the contending fire burned onward, some little tongues of flame crept back toward the spot where the cattle had been left. these were "swatted" with the wet blankets as fast as seen. "well, she's going!" cried dave, as he saw the fire they had set to fight the other leaping onward as though to meet the blazing enemy. "that ought to burn a safety strip." "if th' wind doesn't turn," murmured pocus pete. "if th' wind doesn't turn." anxiously now they waited, looking the while to see that no stray sparks set a fire behind them. dirty, dusty, choking and smoke-begrimed, the cowboys fought the oncoming fire. back of them their comrades worked hard to hold in check the frightened cattle, while others were racing back with the plowing outfit. and off to the west glowed, roared and crackled the menacing prairie fire. chapter xx the chase "lively boys! swat it out! farther off to the left there, skinny!" "all right, pete! i get you!" "dave, there's a flicker behind you. swat it out!" "out she goes!" answered the young cowboy. "tubby, step along with a little more life!" the foreman cried. "th' fire'll git yo' if yo' don't watch out!" "i'm goin' along as fast as i can, pete." "well, move faster. we've got to beat this fire!" thus with friendly gibes and taunts pete kept his men at work. the fire was coming nearer, but the burned strip was widening too, and soon would be too broad for the flames to leap over. they would separate, of course, and travel down on either side of the charred section, but the cattle might be saved. up and down the length of the line of fire they had started to offset the other, keeping well back of it, and watching that no stray sparks or wisps of burning grass got behind them, dave and his comrades worked hard. the immediate danger seemed to have passed, but a shift in the wind might come at any time, and render their task futile. "a little more, boys, and we'll call it done!" exclaimed the foreman, wiping his grimy, sweaty face on his sleeve. it did not greatly improve his countenance, however. dave and the others lengthened the line of back-fire, and then, seeing that they had burned a strip sufficiently wide to make it comparatively certain that the oncoming fire would not leap over it, they turned back to help plow the furrows, or to keep the cattle in order and from stampeding. leaping on their snorting ponies the cowboys rode back, leaving behind them two fires where before there had been but one. but soon the two would merge into one, leaving a broad, blackened barren strip, that contained no fuel for the flames. "it's lucky we struck that swale where the wind blew in the other direction," dave remarked. "mighty lucky," assented pocus pete. of course where a strong wind is blowing a prairie fire toward one, another method of escape can be taken. if there is time a fire can be started where one is standing. the wind will carry it in the same direction as that in which the main blaze is advancing, but ahead of it. then, as the grass is burned off, and the ground cools, one can follow the second fire, getting far enough in toward the center of the area one has burned to be safe. but this method can not be used where the second fire would consume buildings or cattle, as would have been the case here. "how'd you make out?" demanded mr. carson, as dave and the others, smoke-begrimed and weary, rode up. "all right. there's a big burned patch between us and the fire now," said pocus pete. "have the plows come?" "not yet." "hark!" exclaimed dave. "what's that?" a thunder of hoofs could be heard, thudding on the ground. "the cattle--a stampede!" gasped tubby larkin. "no, it's the boys coming back with the plow outfit," said dave. "i can hear the rattle of the wheels on the chuck wagon." and his guess proved correct. a little later the wagon rumbled up. led along behind it were a number of horses kept for use on the farm that was attached to the ranch. the animals were quickly hitched to the plows--several of them--and then began the turning over of a number of damp furrows of earth, which would offer no food for the flames. the fire was increasing, for it found much dry material on the sun-baked prairie. it had not yet reached the strip that had been burned to stop it. would it pause there, and divide? or would it still come on toward the cattle? those were questions each one was asking. the cattle were becoming more and more excited as the sky was lighted more brilliantly by the bright glare. the smell of fire and smoke was in the air, and the crackle and roar of the flames sounded louder. the cattle heard and were afraid. "come, dave!" called pocus pete. "guess we'll find our work cut out for us over there now. they won't need us to help with the plowing." indeed the cowboys in charge of the cattle had their hands full. every now and then some steer would make a break, and if he were not quickly turned and driven back it meant that others would follow. quick action was required. and while the men selected for that work attended to the turning over of the brown earth, dave and the others, under the direction of pocus pete kept the cattle from stampeding. the prairies were now as well lighted as at early dawn. in fact with that dull, red glare over everything, it was not unlike a dawn--the dawn that brings a storm in its wake. the roar of the fire sounded like distant thunder, and there was a smoky taste to the air, which was hot and stifling. "look out for that fellow, dave!" called the foreman, as a big steer made a break for liberty. "i'll get him!" shouted the young cowboy, as, whirling his lasso in readiness he spurred after the animal. as dave rode on, another steer, thinking perhaps to take advantage of the distraction, started out after the first one, and directly behind dave. with lowered head the animal took after the horse and rider, seemingly with the intention of trying to overthrow them. "look out, dave!" yelled mr. bellmore. "he'll toss you!" the engineer sent his horse on the run toward dave, but it is doubtful if the chicago man could have done anything, not being an expert in handling the rope. but skinny had seen dave's danger, and with a yell he took after the second steer. an instant later his lasso had settled over the animal's head, and as the pony stopped short, and braced back, the steer fell, his feet kicking in the air. dave himself was not aware of what had happened, so intent was he on driving back the brute he was after. and it was not until he had done this, and looked back, seeing the prostrate creature, that our hero was aware of what had happened. then he understood at once. "thanks, skinny," he said, pantingly. "don't mention it," replied the other. he shook free his rope, and the steer, now subdued, and tractable, rose to his feet and went back to the herd. it needed every effort and attention on the part of the cowboys to keep the cattle from stampeding, but they managed to do it. the fire came on, halted at the burned strip, hesitated as if considering a leap across, and then divided, rolling down either side of the bare strip. "that does the trick," said mr. carson. "i guess we've saved our stock." "and we didn't need the plowed strip after all," dave said, for, so far, the blaze had not approached within danger-distance of the herd. "well, it isn't over yet," said the ranch owner. "that fire still has plenty of ginger in it, and the wind may shift any minute. dave, you worked well!" "oh, no better than any of the others." "yes you did! you worked well, and i shan't forget it but i'd like to know how this fire started. no cowman would be so careless with matches when he knows how dry it's been. and i don't believe lightning set it. i'd like to know how it started." "so would i," said dave, "and i think i'll investigate." "how? where?" asked the cattleman. "why, i'll go over there where the fire started. i may be able to learn something." "better take one of the boys with you," mr. carson cautioned him. "that's in the direction of molick's ranch, and they may be in a bad humor. take some one with you." when dave's intention was made known pocus pete and mr. bellmore offered to accompany him. dave was glad to have them. they rode over the blackened, scarcely-cooled area, there being light enough from the distant flames to enable them to see well. but there was nothing to observe--that is at first. finally, however, as they went on, dave gave a sudden exclamation. "what is it?" asked the engineer. "hush! not so loud!" was dave's caution. "don't you see some one crouched down in the grass there, lighting matches?" the other two looked to where he pointed. they did indeed see a dark figure. suddenly it became plain, and the three saw some one stooping over in the dry grass, setting fire to it with matches. "the scoundrel!" cried mr. bellmore. "who is he?" "i don't know, but we'll soon find out," said pocus pete, grimly. "come on, boys!" he spurred forward, followed by dave and mr. bellmore. the person in the grass heard them, and, leaping to his saddle, leaving the little blaze to grow, he was off at a gallop. but dave and his two friends chased on after him. "looks like he was the very man we want," murmured pocus pete. chapter xxi the escape "what about that fire?" asked mr. bellmore, as he galloped on beside dave. "i don't know," was the doubtful answer. "what do you say, pete?" "what's that?" called back the foreman, his eyes never leaving the dim figure that was racing on ahead. "the fire he started," replied dave. "won't it eat back to the cattle?" "it may. but they've got enough men to fight it now, and the plowed strip will stop almost any blaze. come on, we want to get that skunk!" "do you think he set the big fire, pete?" "i don't know what to think, i'm goin' to catch him first!" was the grim reply. "i'll do my thinkin' afterward." the glow of the big fire was dying away now. one reason for this was that the blaze was working its way behind a range of hills. another was found in the coming of the dawn, the fire paling before the glow of the rising sun. dave gave a look back at the blaze in the grass he had seen started by the crouching figure. the flames were spreading in the dry, tinder-like grass, and for a moment dave was worried. then he reflected that the cowboys who were with the herd ought to be able to handle it, and, as pete had said, the plowed strip would act in the same manner as had the burned area. "we've got to take a chance," murmured dave, "and it can't be a much worse chance than the one we took earlier in the night. and we must get that fellow!" it would be the worst possible procedure to leave loose in the country so desperate a character as one who would deliberately start a prairie fire. he could do untold damage. "i wonder who he is?" mused dave. yet in his heart he had an answer ready. "some of the molick crowd," he whispered. "their ranch would be safe with the wind blowing the way it does now, and they must know it would send the fire right down on us. it was the molick crowd, i'll wager a hat!" he hurried on with the others. dawn was breaking rapidly now. it seemed scarcely more than a few minutes since dave saw that glow in the midnight sky, yet it was several hours. but so crowded had they been with work and worry that it seemed hardly more than one--or, at most, a few minutes. the figure ahead was riding desperately to escape. "he's got a good horse critter," observed pete, admiringly. he could admire even an enemy's mount. "yes, but he can't keep up that speed," said mr. bellmore. "and our animals are fresh." this was true, as during the fire-fighting the ponies of the bar u ranch had been able to rest. now they were fresh for the chase that was on. and a fierce chase it was. setting a prairie fire, when the person who did it could not but know it would eat its way toward a bunch of cattle, was a crime not far from horse stealing, than which there is no blacker offense in the west, where a man's life depends on his horse. and the person who was riding thus desperately away must have known, or at least feared, that quick vengeance would be dealt out to him. "th' skunk!" muttered pete, as he and the others swept on. "th' mean, onery skunk!" up came the sun from below the horizon, shining red in the smoke-filled air--red and dim, like some great balloon. the morning was hot with the heat of the fire, and it would soon be warmer and more depressing from the heat of the sun's rays. "it's a good thing dad has his cattle where there's some water for them," said dave. "yes," agreed pete. "there isn't much, but it's better than being over at the other place, where molick and his crowd can cut us off altogether." "if worst comes to worst, and he's built up that dam again," said the engineer, "we'll go and tear it down once more." "that's what we will," pete said. "i'm not going to lose the cattle for want of some water, when we saved 'em from the fire." dave was about to make a remark, when he gave a cry of surprise instead. "what's up?" asked pete. "look! if that isn't len molick i'll eat my rope!" cried the young cowpuncher. "len molick started that fire!" "it's him all right," agreed pete, after an instant's glance. the figure racing on ahead so desperately had turned for a moment in the saddle, and this turning gave a view of his face. dave had seen it was his enemy--the enemy who had taunted him with his lack of knowledge concerning his birth and parentage. "and we've caught him with the goods," remarked pete, indulging in the slang which meant so much. "he'll go to jail for this." "if we catch him," suggested mr. bellmore. "oh, we'll get him," declared pete. "come on here you cayuse you!" he called merrily to his mount. but alas for pete's hopes. whether the extra burst of speed was more than his horse could respond to, or whether in the excess of his zeal pete forgot his usual caution probably would never be known. but the fact of the matter was that his horse stepped into the burrow of a prairie dog, and, a moment later, the foreman went flying over the head of his steed, landing on the soft grass some distance away. dave and mr. bellmore pulled up at once, but they had hardly done so before pete leaped to his feet. "ride on i ride on!" he yelled. "don't mind me. get that skunk!" "but you may be hurt!" dave called. "hurt? no, not a bit! i'm all right!" "what about the horse?" asked the engineer. the animal had picked himself up, and walked with a limp toward his master, for pete had trained him well. "poor brute's got a twisted shoulder--i'll have to ride him slow after i rub him down," pete said, mournfully enough. "i can't make any kind of speed on him. ride on, you fellows! don't let that skunk get away!" it was the law and custom of the range. when a chase was on, if one failed and fell behind, the other, or others, must keep going. it was a hard law, but life on the range was not easy, nor was it one for children. "all right!" called dave, recognizing the necessity for prompt action. "we'll get him!" "and watch out for him," pete warned them. "he'll be desperate if he finds you're closing in on him." "we'll watch out," said mr. bellmore. again he and dave dashed on, leaving pete to minister to his injured horse. the foreman at once proceeded to rub vigorously the strained shoulder with a bunch of grass. his steed winced it the pain, but seemed to know it was for its own good. "i'll have to go back," pete said, mournfully. "but i hope they catch that skunk!" it was the meanest name he could think of to call len molick. the chase was resumed. pete's accident had cost dave and his companion some precious moments and they had lost distance. but they felt that, eventually, they must win. for their horses were fresher than was the mount of the youth who had set the fire, and already they had appreciably lessened the distance between them. len's horse had shown a wonderful burst of speed at first, and he had secured a quick start. "but it won't do him any good," said dave. "we'll have him ridden down in ten minutes more." "i hope so," murmured mr. bellmore, "why. can't kurd stand it?" "oh, yes, but i'm afraid i can't. this is more riding than i've done since i had my accident, and my ankle is paining me." "say, you drop out," dave urged him. "i can manage len all right." "indeed i'll not drop out! i'm going to stay in to the finish, but i'll be glad when it comes. this western life is, indeed, rough and ready, dave." "then you're not a westerner by birth?" "no, i came from the east. i'll have to tell you my story some day. it's rather a curious one." dave reflected that his own was, also, but he was not so sure he wanted to tell it. every day had increased his admiration for mr. bellmore, but there are some facts that we keep even from our best friends. they were on a downward slope now, and the going was better. slowly but surely they were overtaking len. now and then he glanced back over his shoulder, as if to measure the distance separating him from his pursuers. "do you think he'll shoot?" asked mr. bellmore. "he may," said dave, calmly. "he's a big enough bully to do so, but he's the worst shot you ever heard of. i really believe he's afraid of a gun." "still, sometimes those chaps make a bull's-eye out of pure luck." "we've got to take the chance," dave said. "keep well down on your horse's neck." but len showed no intention of drawing a weapon. probably it was all he could do to manage his now fast-tiring steed. suddenly the stillness of the morning was broken by a prolonged shrill screech. "what's that?" cried mr. bellmore. "railroad train," said dave. "the line passes just below us. you can see the smoke of the train in a minute. there she is--a fast freight. whistled because they're going to stop for water i guess. yes, there she goes up to the tank." down below them they could see the crawling freight. as they watched they saw it draw up to the tank and stop. water poured into the tender of the engine. "why, look at len! he's riding straight for the freight!" cried dave. "that's what he is," echoed mr. bellmore. "maybe he's going to take it!" "if he does--" murmured dave. they spurred on, but were too far away. a moment later they saw len leap from his horse, abandon the creature, and jump on one of the freight cars. the engine whistled, started off and rapidly gathered speed, taking len away from his pursuers. "well, if that isn't tough luck!" bitterly said dave, as they pulled up. len had escaped. there was no use in chasing the fast freight. chapter xxii tangles sitting astride his tired horse dave looked lung and earnestly at the fast-disappearing freight, as it went around a bend in the hills. he could not see len, but he knew the young bully was aboard. "well, you're gone now, but there'll come a time when you may want to come back," mused dave. "and when you do, i'll get you. i think you started the big fire, but i'll give you a chance to prove you didn't." he sat there musing for a while longer. the freight was out of sight now but there came to his ears, faintly through the heavy morning air, the sound of the distant puffing. and he could see the trail of smoke. "smoke! ugh!" exclaimed dave. "i've seen enough, and smelled enough, in the last few hours to last me a year!" his eyes smarted from the acrid fumes of the burning prairie grass, and his mouth was parched. "guess you must want a drink too, crow," said dave aloud, and his horse whinnied as though understanding. dave saw len's horse, which the young rascal had abandoned, taking a long drink from a pool that had formed under the railroad tank. dave's horse needed no urging toward the inviting water and soon both master and beast were drinking deeply. dave also plunged his head down in a puddle and soused his arms and hands in it. "there, i feel better," he said. "a heapsight better. and now what am i going to do with you?" he asked as he saw len's abandoned horse cropping the grass near the tank. "i can't leave you here for rustlers to make off with. you're too good an animal, if you do belong to a mean skunk. and yet i don't feel like doing len any favor. if i take you i may get into trouble with mr. molick, too. "oh, i'll take a chance though. can't see a horse suffer," dave went on, and when his own mount had sufficiently refreshed itself with water and food, the young cowboy leaped to the saddle and rode up to len's animal. he had no difficulty in catching the pony, as it was quite exhausted from the run. and thus leading his prize, dave started back. mr. bellmore, who had done as dave had, taken a long drink and a wash, was also much refreshed. "it surely was tough luck," remarked the engineer, "but it couldn't be helped. we did our best!" "i should say so!" exclaimed dave. "i regard it as a pretty sure sign of his guilt--that running away; don't you?" "well, most people would, i think," said the chicago man slowly, "and yet, from what you have told me, i guess len would run from you anyhow, wouldn't he, if he saw you take after him?" "he might," admitted dave, with a grin, as he thought of the encounter he had had with the bully. "yes, i guess he might. but we saw him start one fire; didn't we?" "yes, but of course he could claim that he was starting a back-fire, just as we did." "huh!" dave mused. "i didn't think of that. but i'm sure len did start the big blaze, anyhow. he wanted to either stampede our cattle, or burn some of them, and you can't make me think any differently." "oh, i'm not trying to," said mr. bellmore. "i'm only giving you an idea of the view a judge and jury might take of it, if you had len arrested." "i didn't think of that," dave said. "i guess it won't come to an arrest, as far as that is concerned. we western folk generally administer the law ourselves. if we waited for judges and juries we'd get left in a good many cases. but i don't believe len will come back, in a hurry." "perhaps not but what are you going to do with his horse?" "i don't know. take it back with us for the time being. it's a good animal i might hold it as a sort of hostage until len claims it. but i don't believe he will. whew! that was some chase!" "it certainly was," agreed mr. bellmore. they rode back slowly. the air was gradually clearing of the smoke from the prairie fire, though far off it could be observed burning yet. but the worst of it was over. bar u ranch was no longer in danger. "what's the next thing on the programme?" asked mr. bellmore. "finish the round-up, get rid of as many cattle as we can, provide for the rest so they'll have plenty of water in the dry spell, and then fight the molick crowd," said dave. "plenty of room for action there," commented the engineer with a smile. "i guess so," assented dave. "but we're depending on your help." "and i'll give it to the best of my ability. i think it is wise to undertake legal action as a starter to regaining control of your water rights. if they don't help us---" "why, then we'll try some of our western persuasive ways," finished dave. "i guess dad will be anxious to get busy right away. this fire shows how desperate that other crowd is." "yes. and if the molicks had a hand in starting it, which seems reasonable to believe, they probably did it out of revenge for the breaking of the dam. but we had a perfect moral, if not a legal, right to do that," the chicago man said. they rode back slowly, and soon overtook pocus pete, who was ambling along on his injured pony. "how'd he get away?" asked pete, as he saw dave leading the riderless horse. "was there any shootin'?" "no, nothing like that," dave replied. "he jumped on the fast freight, and left his animal behind." "huh! well, maybe it's jest as well," the foreman said. "it's one skunk less in a country that's got more than its share. that's a good horse," he went on, sizing up len's mount. "yes," said dave. "you'd better take it for awhile, and give yours a rest." "i will,' said pete, dismounting and leaping to the saddle of the other. it was a great relief for his own mount, whose shoulder was badly wrenched. "this is forcin' th' enemy to give us aid an' comfort," commented pocus pete, as he settled to the saddle, having put on his own in place of the one len used, which did not fit the foreman. back over the burned prairie they rode. it was hot with the heat of the sun, which rose higher and higher in the sky, and the air, though it was morning, still seemed to have in it some of the heat from the big fire. dave and his friends found mr. carson and the cowboys waiting anxiously for them. the story of the chase and its failure was soon told. "well, you did your best, dave, and i'm much obliged to you," said mr. carson. "i agree with you that it looks as though the molick crowd was getting desperate, and trying to drive us out of the country either by a stampede or by fire. if you hadn't discovered that blaze in time there's no telling what might have happened. now i've got to plan what to do." "and let me help--dad," said dave in a low voice. "i want to do all i can for you and the bar u." mr. carson did not reply at once, but he held out his hand and dave grasped it in a firm clasp. they understood one another. a conference was held, and it was decided that the round-up should be finished as soon as possible, and the cattle intended for shipment driven to the nearest railroad point. the others would be scattered over the different grazing ranges mr. carson owned. "and then we'll take up this water fight," said mr. bellmore. "if i had my papers here i could begin some preliminary work now." "what you folks most need is a rest," said mr. carson. "you've been up the best part of the night, fighting fire, and on this chase. now get some breakfast and stretch out in the shade of the chuck wagon. there's nothing to be done right away. hop loy, get 'em something to eat!" "slure i glet bleckflast!" exclaimed the happy-faced celestial. "plenty hungly mlister dave?" he asked cheerfully. "yes, plenty hungry," dave assented. while he, pocus pete and mr. bellmore rested after the meal mr. carson and the others finished the round-up work, branding such cattle as had not already felt the iron. then the herds were separated, the ones for shipment being cut out from the others. the next few days were busy ones, the work going on from the first peep of daylight until it was impossible to see. and in due time the shipment was successfully made. "well, i can breathe more easily now," said mr. carson, when the train had departed, some of his cowboys going with it to see that the cattle were fed and watered on the trip. "no matter what molick does now he can't ruin me completely." "that's so, and now we'll take up this water matter," said the engineer. "i'm afraid it's going to prove a legal tangle, though." and so it did. the chief fight was about the ownership of the water rights at the point where molick had built the dam that the bar u boys had destroyed. it had at once been rebuilt, as was expected and all water was shut off from mr. carson's land in that vicinity. but as he was not pasturing any cattle there for the present, no damage resulted. "but you have a right to that water, and i'm going to see that you get your share of it," said mr. bellmore. "it was partly my fault that molick built that dam, for if i had not mentioned it to him he probably would never have thought of it. so it's up to me to make this fight for you, and i'm going to." nor was the fighting all on one side. molick brought suit against mr. carson for the destruction of the dam, but it would take some time to settle this, since many questions were involved. in turn mr. carson sued the owner of centre o ranch for shutting off the water supply. mr. carson, dave and mr. bellmore also went before the grand jury and gave information about having seen len starting a prairie fire. that body lost little time in returning an indictment against the missing bully. but of course it was out of their power to go after him and bring him back. "but if he ever does come back i'll get him," the sheriff assured dave. "he daren't set foot in this county again. of course i'm not saying he's guilty, but i'll arrest him and he'll have to prove his innocence." "that's all we want," said dave. meanwhile the legal tangles increased. a number of suits were started on both sides, and as a result there were several physical clashes between the cowboys of the bar u and the centre o ranches. the horse of pocus pete was more seriously hurt than he had at first thought, and he had to give his mount a long rest. "but i've got len's critter!" pete chuckled, "and i'm goin' to ride that." this he did to his own great satisfaction. several times when he and his boys got into more than verbal arguments with the centre o crowd pete used len's horse. "it's like gettin' th' enemy's ammunition an' firin' it at him," said pete with a laugh. "i guess they don't relish it none." and molick and his crowd did not. they did not make a claim for the horse, however, since this would have involved admitting that len rode it to escape from the country, and they did not want to do this. so pocus pete kept the contraband horse. work was easier on bar u ranch after the big cattle shipment, but still there was plenty to do. mr. bellmore was busy working up his water irrigation project, in addition to helping mr. carson fight the molick crowd. after a number of suits had been started molick brought an action against the engineer for breach of contract. "he claims i promised to go into the water matter with him, and then backed out," said mr. bellmore. "well, i did nothing of the sort. i might have gone in with him, if you had not warned me, though mr. carson." "well, i'm glad i warned you, for he'd have you all tangled up if you had gone in with him." "i guess you're right. but well get straightened out after a bit, i think." the molick outfit was the only one that fought the irrigation project. all the other ranch owners in the vicinity recognizing the value of it to their places, entered into it. chapter xxiii the clew "dave, are you fit for a little ride this morning?" asked mr. bellmore, about two weeks after the prairie fire. "why, sure," was the answer. "what's on?" "i want to go over to the stone valley, and make some calculations of the flow of water there. it isn't much of a stream, to be sure, but if we're going into this irrigation scheme, we can't neglect even a small flow of water. we might want it in dry weather. i need some one to help me make the measurements." "why sure i'll go. be with you in a little while. there's a little matter i want to see dad about, and then i'll come." though dave spoke thus lightly of a "little matter," it was one that meant a great deal to him. for it was nothing less than an attempt he had made, or, rather, started, to solve the mystery of his identity. all along, ever since dave had been told the truth of his rescue from the missouri flood, he had sought some means of finding out who he was. mr. carson had said there was no means of knowing, since he had made inquiries at the time in the vicinity of the flood, and no one had laid claim to the then small baby. "which led me to believe, dave," the ranchman said, "that your parents and all your relations were drowned." the young cowboy was silent after this, and a look of sadness came over his face. "but there is a bare chance that some--even distant relatives--might have been saved," he said. "and on that supposition, if i had some little clew on which to start it might put me on the right track. "how was i dressed when you found me? wasn't there any distinguishing mark?" "huh! well, now i come to think of it, perhaps there might have been," mr. carson had said. this conversation had taken place some time previously. "what was it?" asked dave eagerly. "was there a note pinned to my dress? i suppose i must have worn dresses, if i was so little at the time?" "yes, you wore dresses," the ranchman said, with a far-off look in his eyes. he was struggling to recall the dim and distant past. "yes, you had on a dress. i think it must have been white at the start, but the muddy water had stained it a dark brown. but there was no note or anything like that pinned to it. i looked for that. but you did have on something that perhaps might prove a clew." "what was it?" asked dave eagerly. "it was a sort of life-preserver," said the cattle man. "at least i took it to be that. "a life-preserver!" echoed dave. "well, maybe i'm wrong about it, for i never had much to do with water or the sea," admitted mr. carson. "but it was some sort of a cork jacket. it was made from a lot of bottle corks, all strung together, and wound around in a sort of belt." "they don't make life-preservers that way," said dave, who had been on a trip east, and had seen the life-saving apparatus on a steamer. "a life-preserver is made from broad sheets of cork, sometimes granulated, and pressed together. i never heard of one being made of corks from bottles strung together." "well, that's what you had on," said the ranchman. "maybe it was a home-made one. come to think of it, that's probably what it was. i reckon it saved your life, too, for though you were on a pretty big piece of wreckage, you looked as though the waves had washed up over you a number of times. yes, that home-made cork life-preserver undoubtedly saved you." "what became of it?" asked dave. "i suppose you threw it away. you must have had your hands full, looking after a small baby." "why, no, i didn't throw it away," said mr. carson slowly. "i sort of had an idea it might prove a relic, so i kept it." "where is it now?" asked dave, eagerly. "well, i didn't take it all over with me," went on the owner of the bar u ranch. "i left it in denver with a lot of other things of mine. it's there yet i reckon, in storage." "could you get it?" exclaimed the youth, his eyes shining with eagerness. "yes, i reckon so. but what good would it do, dave?" "it might--it might prove my identity." mr. carson shook his head. "i'm afraid not," he said. "there wasn't anything to it but a lot of corks strung together. they were wound around you like a belt." "but could you send for it? i should like to see it. and it might--it might, after all, be a clew." "well, i'll get it, of course. i suppose you aren't satisfied to be just what you are. you know i'll look after you all your life. you know that, don't you, dave?" asked the ranchman softly. "yes--dad--i know that," and the youth's voice faltered. "but i want--i just want to know who i am. i don't intend to leave you. i guess you know that. i haven't any other place to go. but i would like to know who i am. maybe--maybe," and dave's voice was husky, "i might have a--a sister somewhere in this world. oh, what i'd give if i had!" and unshed tears shone in his eyes. "well, dave, i never thought of it in just that way," said the ranchman. "yes, what you say may be true. i'll send for this life belt of bottle corks, and let you look at it. mind, i don't believe it will be of any use as a clew, but i'll send for it." and so the matter had ended for the time being. there had been so much to do, what with the fire and the trouble over the water rights, that there had been a delay in sending for the old relic of the flood. but finally mr. carson had written for it, together with some of his other goods in storage in denver, and they had arrived that day. he had promised dave to unpack them, and show him the belt, and it was this matter that the young cowboy wished to see about before going over to the stone valley with mr. bellmore. "well, dave, there it is," said mr. carson, as he opened a trunk, and took out several articles. "here's the little dress and the other things you wore when i hauled you from the water." he held up a white garment, clean, but yellow with age, and smelling faintly of some perfume. "it doesn't look as though it had been through a flood," said dave. "no, i had it washed and ironed, and then a lady i knew packed it away in rose leaves for me. she said that's how she kept the baby clothes of her own little ones. those are the shoes you wore," the ranchman went on, as something fell to the floor, when dave unrolled the dress. the shoes, too, had once been white, but were soiled now, not having responded to the cleansing process as had the dress. they were stuffed out with wads of paper. "it would be some job to get in them now," dave remarked with a smile as he glanced down at his booted and spurred feet. "some job!" "yes," assented mr. carson. "and here's your petticoat, dave. i reckon that's what you call it," and he held up some other garments. "i saved 'em all," he said, "thinking they might be a clew, but they never turned out so." "but where is the cork belt?" dave asked. he was impatient to see that. he realized that baby dresses must be more or less alike, with seldom a distinguishing mark. but the cork belt impressed him with the possibility of being different. "here it is," said mr. carson. from amid the contents of the trunk he pulled out a queer object dave held it up to get a better view of it. as mr. carson had said it was a belt, composed of a number of corks strung together on a strong cord, there being many rows of them, one above the other. the corks were of all sizes, the cord passing through them on the short axis. there were two holes for the arms, and a sort of tape by which the belt could be tied around one. it was small, clearly made for a child, though for a larger one than dave could have been at the time he was picked up in the flood. "i must have rattled around in that?" he said, with a questioning look. "yes, it was lapped around you a couple of times," said the ranchman. "but, just as i said, dave, it isn't much of a clew. they are just common corks." this was so. there were no marks on the corks, as far as dave could see, by which any identification could be made. he looked closely at the odd life-preserver. "i say, dave, are you coming?" called mr. bellmore from without. "right away," was the answer. dave sadly laid down the cork jacket and went out. chapter xxiv brothers profound indeed was the impression made on dave by the sight of the childish things in the trunk mr. carson had received from denver. sadness, too, was mingled with his feelings. somehow he felt as though the last hope had gone from him, for he did not see how he could find any clew to his identity in the corks, strung into such a queer jacket. dave tried to look cheerful as he came out to join mr. bellmore for the ride across the prairies to the place where they were going to measure the flow of water. he did not want his companion to suspect anything. "feel like taking it on the gallop?" asked the engineer. "yes, i guess crow can stand it if your animal can," dave said. "oh, i'll bank on kurd!" together they were off at a fast pace that fairly ate up the distance, and soon they were half-way to the place where a small stream had given mr. bellmore hopes that he could add it to his water conservation scheme. "i wonder how it would be to take a trip over to the molick dam, and see what they're doing?" suggested the water man. "it's just as well to keep tab on those fellows." "go ahead, i'm with you," said dave. they changed their course slightly. the whole day, or, rather, the best part of it was ahead of them, for they had made an early start. dave had not much to do at the ranch since the big cattle shipment, though mr. carson was getting ready to increase his stock as soon as the question of providing water for them was settled. "looks as if something was going on," commented mr. bellmore, as they approached the place where the molick dam had been rebuilt. "yes, there's a crowd there, anyhow," agreed dave. "and some of them are on our land, too!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "now take it easy," advised his friend. "this matter must take a legal course, since we have started it that way. keep cool." "oh, i will," the young cowboy promised, as he spurred on, followed by the engineer. they found molick and several of his men making a sort of supplementary dam, the water having backed up more than they had calculated on, so that some of it was now flowing in the old bed of the stream over mr. carson's property. it was to prevent this that another dam was being made. "he wants to get every drop!" said dave, bitterly. "yes," assented the engineer. "he isn't satisfied with a fair share." some of the workmen who knew dave seemed a bit embarrassed as he caught them on the carson land, for it was necessary for them to go there to complete the dam. the young cowboy, however, said nothing, preferring to leave it to mr. bellmore. the latter looked significantly at molick, and remarked: "seems to me you're overstepping a bit; aren't you?" "i don't know that i am," was the surly answer. "why, you're on bar u land--or some of your men are." "i know it." "what gives you the right?" "the law. it says i can go where i have to, to recover my property. i guess that's right enough." "where is any of your property on mr. carson's land?" molick pointed to the trickling water. "that's mine," he said. "it's escaping from my pond over the dam. i'm making the dam bigger, and if i have to go on bar u land to do it, to save my property, the law gives me a right. i know what i'm talking about, for i've looked it up." as this was a point on which the engineer was not certain of the rights of mr. carson, he thought it better to say nothing. he observed, however, that there was more water than even he had calculated on, and that though the dam were raised it would overflow again, thus necessitating further trespassing on the bar u property. "and if the flow keeps on increasing," the engineer reasoned, "it will give us a water supply in spite of all molick can do. guess i'll let matters take their course for a while." he said as much to dave in a low voice, and the two rode away. they had seen all they needed to. "dad can pasture here again soon," said the young cowboy. "yes," assented the engineer, "i guess we don't need to worry much. there'll be more water than molick can impound unless he raises a big concrete dam, and before he can do that we'll have legally established our own rights, i think." they resumed their way to the valley to measure the water there, and for some time were kept busy, dave helping his friend make the calculations. "well, there isn't as much as i thought there'd be," was the comment of the engineer, "but every little helps. we'll make a different section of this a year from now. if it wasn't for molick standing out against the irrigation scheme we'd have the whole of rolling river valley in it." "is there any way of forcing him?" asked dave. "there may be, after he sees what he's missing." together they rode home in the early evening. now that the work of the day was over dave's mind went back to the scene of the morning, when he had handled his baby garments and the cork jacket. his manner must have been strange and distracted, for mr. bellmore said: "what's the matter, dave? you act as though you had lost your last friend." "well, i have, in a way," was the unexpected answer. "you have! what do you mean? seems to me, if i were you, with the kind of a father you have, and a dandy ranch like this i'd be the happiest fellow on--" "i haven't any father!" burst out dave. "and that's the trouble. oh, it's just as len molick said--i'm a nameless nobody!" and his voice choked and broke. mr. bellmore rode his horse over beside crow. he put his arm around the lad, who hung his head. "look here, old man!" said the engineer. "i don't want to intrude, but if it will do you any good, tell me all about it!" "i will!" exclaimed dave, taking a sudden resolve. "i wasn't going to tell you," he went on, after a pause, "for, though some of the fellows at the ranch know it, and though some over at centre o do, also, still i wasn't going to tell you. i was so happy before i knew it." then, slowly, and haltingly, he told how len molick had fired the taunt at him and how, upon making inquiries of mr. carson, the latter had confirmed the rumor, saying that dave was not his son, though he loved him as such. "and where did you say he found you?" asked the engineer. there was a curious light in his eyes, and an eager expectancy in his manner. "it was during a flood somewhere in missouri. i've forgotten the exact name of the place. he can tell you. he picked me up on some wreckage, and looked after me. that was a long while ago--or at least it seems so," dave remarked with a smile. "it couldn't have been so very long ago. you're not more than twenty; are you, dave?" "nineteen, i think. of course i don't know my exact age." "no, i suppose not. then i'm not so much older than you. i'm twenty-seven. but yours is a strange story. dave, we are brothers in misfortune." "brothers in misfortune! what do you mean?" cried the young cowboy. "i mean, that i haven't any near relatives either. and while i do know who i am, and who my parents were, still that isn't much satisfaction. i have lost them." "lost them?" dave echoed. "yes, and in a flood, such as nearly claimed your life. i must find out just what town you came from. it may be that our folks lived in the same place. it would be a strange coincidence, but it might be that it is so. i lost all my folks, including a baby brother in a western flood. i don't know many of the particulars, for i was with relatives in ohio at the time, so i escaped. "i am anxious to hear mr. carson's story. it interests me mightily. to think that we have gone through much the same sort of suffering. but i should have thought so small a baby as you must have been at the time would have been drowned." "i would have been if it hadn't been for one thing," returned our hero, with an odd little smile. "one thing? what was that?" "i doubt if you can guess." "maybe you were bound fast to the wreckage, or it didn't float into deep water." "i don't know about being bound fast, but i do know the wreckage floated around, or rather, down stream. but that wasn't what i referred to." "what was it?" "can't you guess?" "i don't think so." "i had on a cork life-preserver," said dave. "i was looking at it this morning when you called to me." "a cork life-preserver?" excitedly repeated mr. bellmore. "was it--was it any particular kind, dave?" "why, yes, it was. but why do you look at me so strangely?" "never mind that now! tell me about that life-preserver. how was it made?" "from bottle corks strung together and made into a belt. i had it around me when dad--i mean mr. carson--picked me up. i--i thought the preserver might be a clew but it isn't, for--" "a clew! of course it is!" fairly shouted the engineer. "hurrah, dave it _is_ a clew. put her there, old man! shake! i said a while ago that we were brothers in misfortune! we're more than that. "we're real brothers, dave carson--no, not dave carson any longer! dave bellmore! we're brothers, i tell you! brothers!" chapter xxv the new ranch for a moment the two remained with clasped hands, looking deep into the eyes one of the other. then dave, with a deep breath, murmured: "brothers! is it possible?" "not only possible, but probable!" cried mr. bellmore. "we are brothers, i tell you, dave! your mention of that cork life-preserver almost proves it to me." "why so?" "because, before i went away to the east, to visit, i made one just like that with which to learn to swim. i did learn, too, with it. of course i'd have to see this one to be dead sure, but it isn't likely that there would be two cork life-preservers made in that way. i'm sure it was mine you had on when you were rescued. come on, we'll gallop to the ranch and find out." they set off at top speed, dave's heart beating madly with hope. "oh, if it should prove true, after all!" he murmured over and over again. "that i really have some folks at last!" as they rode mr. bellmore briefly told how, as a boy of about ten, he wanted to swim in the stream that ran near his home. "this was in missouri, too," he said, "so that adds to the assurance i have that we are brothers, since it was in missouri that you were found by mr. carson. i made that life preserver out of a design from my own head. i know i had to beg and borrow corks from all the neighbors before i had enough. but with that on i simply could not sink, and so i learned to swim. "i wanted to take it east with me, but my folks persuaded me to leave it at home. and poor mother or father must have fastened it on you when the flood came. oh, i'm sure it's the same one. we are brothers!" once more they clasped hands and looked into each other's eyes. it was two excited individuals who burst into the ranch house of bar u a little later. fairly leaping from their steeds dave and mr. bellmore sought mr. carson. "dad, where is that cork life-preserver?" asked the young cowboy. the use of the word "dad" seemed perfectly proper under the circumstances. "the life-preserver?" repeated the ranchman, wonderingly. "yes, mr. bellmore--benjamin," said dave, using the name for the first time, "benjamin thinks it's one he made, and if it is i'm his brother!" "his brother?" mr. carson looked from one to the other, as if doubting whether he had heard aright. slowly the cattleman again produced the old relic. at the first sight of it mr. bellmore exclaimed: "yes! that's it! i'd know it anywhere! dave, there's no doubt but that you are my brother! shake!" "but are you sure?" asked mr. carson. "positive!" exclaimed the young engineer. "see, i can point out a dozen little points about this belt that makes me certain it is mine," and he did. he even recalled where he got certain oddly-shaped corks from the neighbors. then he related his story--how he had lived as a boy in the town where, later, the flood came and swept away the bellmore home, taking dave with it. the future engineer was away at the time of the disaster, and he knew nothing of the particulars of the rush of the waters, save what relatives told him afterward. "but they said my whole family was drowned, including my little brother," he went on. "his name wasn't dave, by the way, but charles." "i named him dave," said mr. carson. "and i'm going to keep it," dave said. "it's just as well," decided mr. bellmore. "but, as i said, all i know is what i was told. i was only about ten years old at the time, and you must have been about two, dave. how it happened we can only guess, but mother or father must have put my odd cork life-preserver on you when they saw the waters rising, and it probably saved your life when the house was carried away. what a strange coincidence!" "isn't it?" agreed mr. carson. he could add little to the story, for all he knew was the finding of the baby. his inquiries had come to naught, so it was assumed that all the rest of the bellmore family had perished in the high waters. "and what did you do when you heard you had no folks left?" asked dave of his brother. "well, i was too young at the time to realize all that it meant. my eastern relatives came to missouri with me in the hope of finding some of our folks, but we never did. then they took charge of me until i grew up, and entered upon my profession. "and all these years i've been thinking i had not a near living relative, when, all the while i had a brother!" and he looked fondly at dave. "and to think i believed myself a nameless nobody!" dave returned. "well, you're dave bellmore, from now on." "dave _carson_ bellmore," corrected the other softly. "oh, i see!" mr. bellmore exclaimed. "of course." and so it was arranged. the story created no end of wonder at bar u ranch, and dave and his brother were congratulated on all sides. the eastern relatives were communicated with, and one sent a letter mentioning a certain birthmark on dave's arm, which would be there if he was really the bellmore baby. the mark was found, and thus the matter was fully proved. "well, now that you've found your brother, i suppose you'll shake bar u ranch--and me," said mr. carson some time later. "not much!" cried dave with shining eyes, as his arm went around benjamin. "i'm a cattleman first, last and always. if you haven't any room for me here i'll have to start out and work for some one else, i guess." "not while i've got a horse to ride," said the ranchman significantly. a few days later the matter of trying the various lawsuits came up. it was a tedious proceeding, with which i will not burden you, but to be brief i will say that mr. carson won nearly everything. it was settled beyond dispute that the molick ranch had no right to build the dam and shut off the water from the fine pasture. so that was saved to mr. carson. and not only that, but certain other water rights that mr. molick had claimed, were taken from him, and restored to bar u. "that means i can go into the cattle-raising business on a larger scale than ever," declared the ranchman. mr. molick was allowed to retain enough of the water for his own stock, so that his ranch was as valuable as ever. he recognized when he was defeated, and when the court business was over he approached mr. bellmore, rather shamefacedly, it is true, and requested that he be allowed to come into the general water and irrigation scheme. "no, sir!" exclaimed the engineer. "you had your chance and would not take it. it's too late now. all our plans are made and your ranch isn't included." "then if you won't take me in i'll sue you and make you." "go ahead," was the cool response. "you had your chance and turned it down. we aren't depriving you of any water. you'll have all you need, but you won't have any over, as the rest of the ranchmen will. go ahead and sue." molick did, but he was defeated, and then, as his son len dared not return to the vicinity on account of the fire indictment, there came an unexpected turn to affairs. "i hear molick wants to sell out," said pocus pete, coming to the bar u ranch house a few days after the defeat of the bully's father. "and he'll sell out cheap, too." "will he?" asked mr. bellmore. "then i know some one who will buy." "who?" "i will! dave, i've been thinking for a long time of going into the cattle business. i think it will pay better than water engineering. i've been hoping for a chance to get a good ranch, and now that molick's is on the market, i'm going to take it." "good!" cried mr. carson. "i'll have decent neighbors all around me then. and if you want any money, mr. bellmore--you and dave--" "thanks, but i'm pretty well off. i've saved a bit. i think i'll invest it in centre o, but i'm going to change the name, with your permission." "what are you going to call it?" asked dave. "bar u- . how does that strike you?" "fine!" dave exclaimed. "couldn't be better!" declared mr. carson. "we'll combine the two ranches into a new one, and with the water supply we'll have there won't be a place in this country that can hold a candle to us. shake!" "do you really mean it?" cried our hero, his eyes shining with delight. "sure i mean it," answered the man who had been a father to him, with much feeling. "it's a fine thing to propose," put in our hero's newly-found brother. "a fine thing indeed." "i've got to do it--to keep dave by me," answered mr. carson. "i'll stay--don't worry," answered the boy, with a happy grin. and so it was arranged. the bellmore brothers, as they were now called--dave and benjamin--purchased the molick ranch and it was added to the carson holdings under a general partnership agreement. more cattle were purchased, and to-day the bar u- is one of the finest ranches in the west. the water irrigation scheme, planned by mr. bellmore was a complete success, though when he took up ranching with dave, another irrigation engineer succeeded to the managership. the molicks--father and son--disappeared, but most of the cowboys, with the exception of whitey wasson, were hired by dave and his brother. "though if it hadn't been for len and whitey i might never have found you, ben," said dave, with shining eyes. and that is the story of cowboy dave--a "nameless nobody" no longer--but an honored and respected member of the community. and mr. carson, who had no near kith or kin, has promised to make the bellmore brothers his heirs. the end bob burton; or, the young ranchman of the missouri by horatio alger, jr., author of "ragged dick series," "luck and pluck series," "atlantic series," etc. [illustration: logo] philadelphia: porter & coates. copyright, , by porter & coates. to j. henry plummer, now of tallapoosa, ga. from whom i have received valuable assistance in the preparation of this volume, it is dedicated with friendly regard. [illustration: aaron wolverton steals the receipt.] contents. chapter page i. mr. burton's ranch, ii. aaron wolverton, iii. a little retrospect, iv. the sudden summons, v. wolverton's first move, vi. the lost receipt, vii. wolverton's adventure with clip, viii. wolverton's dismay, ix. sam's gift, x. sam in a tight place, xi. an angry conference, xii. wolverton's waterloo, xiii. what bob found in the creek, xiv. the boat and its owner, xv. bob buys the ferry-boat, xvi. wolverton's baffled scheme, xvii. wolverton's poor tenant, xviii. wolverton's wicked plan, xix. mr. wolverton meets two congenial spirits, xx. an unexpected passenger, xxi. how wolverton was fooled, xxii. the first day, xxiii. a suspicious character, xxiv. clip makes a little money for himself, xxv. clip's secret mission, xxvi. was it the cat? xxvii. the passenger discovered, xxviii. sam finds a relation, xxix. rocky creek landing, xxx. an unlucky evening, xxxi. how clip was captured, xxxii. the boys imprisoned, xxxiii. a lucky escape, xxxiv. mr. wolverton's letter, xxxv. bob's arrival in st. louis, xxxvi. a thousand dollars reward, xxxvii. brown and minton walk into a trap, xxxviii. what bob brought home, xxxix. conclusion, bob burton; or, the young ranchman of the missouri. chapter i. mr. burton's ranch. "harness up the colt, clip; i'm going to the village." "all right, massa!" "what makes you call me massa? one would think i were a slave-owner." "can't help it, massa. there i done forgot it agin," said clip, showing his white teeth--preturnaturally white they showed in contrast with his coal-black skin. "you see i used to say that to my old massa, down in arkansaw." "what's my name, clip?" "mister burton." "then call me mr. burton. now go, and don't waste any time." "all right, massa." "that boy's incorrigible," said richard burton to himself. "he hasn't got cut of his early ways yet; careless and shiftless as he is, i believe he is devoted to me and my family." clip, as may be inferred, was a negro boy, now turned of fourteen, who for four years had been attached to the service of richard burton, a ranchman, whose farm lay on a small stream tributary to the missouri, in the fertile state of iowa. he had fled from his master in the northern part of arkansas, and, traveling by night, and secreting himself by day, had finally reached iowa; where he found a safe refuge in the family of mr. burton. indeed he had been picked up by bob burton, a boy a year older than himself, who had brought him home and insisted on his father taking charge of the young fugitive. on a large ranch there was always something to do, and clip was soon made useful in taking care of the horses, in doing errands and in many odd ways. while waiting for the wagon, mr. burton went into the house, and sought his wife. "mamy," he said, "i am going to the village to pay wolverton his interest." "i wish he didn't hold the mortgage, richard," said mrs. burton, looking up from her work. "so do i, but why is it any the worse for him to hold it than for any one else?" "richard, you may think me foolish and fanciful, but i distrust that man. it is impressed upon my mind that he will some day do us harm." "that is foolish and fanciful in good truth, mamy. now wolverton seems to me a--well, not exactly an attractive man, but good natured and friendly. when i needed three thousand dollars last spring, on account of a poor crop and some extra expenses, he seemed not only willing, but really glad to lend it to me." "he took a mortgage on the ranch," said mary burton dryly. "why, of course. he is a man of business, you know. you wouldn't expect him to lend the money without security, would you?" "and you pay him a large interest?" "ten per cent." "there isn't much friendship in lending money on good security at ten per cent., richard." "oh, you put things in a wrong way, mary. money is worth ten per cent. out here, and of course i didn't want wolverton to lose money by me. he could get that interest elsewhere." "you are very unsuspecting, richard. you credit everybody with your own true, unselfish nature." "why, that's a compliment, mary," laughed the husband, "and deserves a kiss." he bent over and touched his wife's cheek with his lips. mary burton had reached the age of thirty-six, and was no longer in her first youth, but her face seemed even more lovelier than when he married her, so richard burton thought. he too was a man of fine presence, with a frank, open face, that invariably won the favor of those who met him for the first time. he was in the full vigor of manhood, and when he and his wife attended the methodist church on sundays, many eyes were attracted by the handsome couple. they had one son, bob, who will soon receive attention. "i have a great mind, richard, to tell you why i distrust and fear aaron wolverton," said his wife after a slight pause. "i wish you would, mary. perhaps, when i know, i can talk you out of your apprehension." "did you ever know that aaron wolverton was once a suitor for my hand?" richard burton burst into an explosive laugh. "what! that dried-up old mummy had the presumption to offer you his hand!" "he actually did, richard," said mrs. burton, smiling. "i wonder you did not laugh in his face. why, the man is fifteen years older than i am, twenty years older than you." "that difference is not unprecedented. i did not reject him because he was older than myself. if you had been as old as he when you offered yourself, i think i would have accepted you." "poor old fellow! did he take it hard?" asked burton, half jocosely. "if you mean did he show any traces of a broken heart, i answer no. but when, after pressing his suit persistently, he found my resolution to be inflexible, his face became distorted with passion. he swore that he would be revenged upon me some day, and that if i dared to marry any one else he would never rest till he had brought harm to the husband of my choice." "i wish i had been there. i would have made him take back those words, or i would have horsewhipped him." "don't take any notice of them, richard," said mary burton, hastily. "it will be much better." "i agree with you," said her husband, his quick anger melting. "after all, the old fellow's disappointment was so great that i can excuse a little impetuosity, and even rudeness. you see, mary, wolverton isn't a gentleman." "no; and never will be." "he acted as his nature prompted. but it was all over years ago. why, mary, he is always friendly with me, even if i am your husband." "that is on the outside, richard; but i fear he is crafty. he is like an indian; his thirst for vengeance keeps alive." "admitting all that, though i don't, what harm can he do, mary, while i am here to protect you?" and the husband expanded his breast in conscious strength, and looked down proudly on his fair wife. "why, i could wring his neck with only one hand." "well, perhaps i am foolish, richard," the wife admitted. "of course you are, mary." just then clip put his head inside the door. "de hoss is ready, massa!" he said. "all right, clip! i'll come right out." richard burton kissed his wife hastily, and went out. as he closed the door, a bright, handsome boy, strongly made, and bearing a resemblance to both father and mother, entered. "hallo, mother! are you all right?" he asked. "i hope so, robert." "you look serious, as if you were worrying over something." "i was thinking of mr. wolverton. your father has gone to pay him interest on the mortgage." "wolverton is a mean old hunks. he's got a nephew living with him, a boy about my age. he works him nearly to death, and i am sure the poor boy doesn't get half enough to eat." "i was wishing your father didn't owe money to such a man." "oh, well, mother, there's no use in worrying. it's only three thousand dollars, and if we have a good crop next year, father will be able to pay off at least half of it. you can see we've got a splendid ranch, mother. there isn't another within twenty miles where the land is as rich." "i shall be glad to see the day when the mortgage is wholly paid off, and we are out of debt." "so shall i, mother." "does mr. wolverton ever take any notice of you, robert?" "he took some notice of me this morning," laughed bob. "that reminds me. i just left three prairie chickens with rachel in the kitchen." "did you shoot them this morning, robert?" "yes, mother; you see i have my hunting dress on. but i shot two more. i was bringing them home across a field of wolverton's, when the old fellow suddenly made his appearance, and, charging me with shooting them on his land, laid claim to them. i denied the charge and told him i proposed to keep them. with that he seized me by the collar, and we had a rough-and-tumble fight for five minutes." "oh, robert, how imprudent!" "well, mother, it was more than flesh and blood could stand. the upshot of it was that i left him lying on his back trembling with rage. i threw down two of the chickens to appease him. i hope he'll have them for dinner, and sam'll get a share of them. the poor fellow is half starved. i don't believe he gets a square meal once a week." "i am afraid you have made an enemy of mr. wolverton, robert." "i can't help it, mother. would you have me bow down to him, and meekly yield up my rights?" "but, robert, to get into a fight with a man so much older?" "i don't want to get into any difficulty, mother. it was forced upon me. besides, i left him two of the chickens." "was clip with you?" "i reckon i was, missis," said clip, displaying his ivories. "i laughed like to split when massa bob laid de old man down on his back. wasn't he jest ravin'? wouldn't have lost dat sight, missis, for de biggest watermillion i ever seed." mrs. burton smiled, but her smile was a faint one. she knew aaron wolverton, and she feared that some time or other he would try to be revenged on bob. chapter ii. aaron wolverton. richard burton drove rapidly to the village. i may state here that the name of the township was carver. like most western villages, it consisted principally of one long, central street, containing buildings of all sizes and descriptions, from a three-story hotel to a one-story office. but there seemed to be a good deal going on all the time--much more than in an eastern town of the size. western people are active, progressive, never content to stand still. in the drowsy atmosphere that pervades many an eastern country town they would stagnate, but there perpetual motion is the rule. everybody in carver knew richard burton. everybody liked him also; he was easy and social with all. i have said everybody, but i must make one exception, and that was the man on whom he now proposed to call. about midway on the main street was a small one-story building, about twelve feet square. above the door was a sign: aaron wolverton, real estate agent. mr. wolverton had considerable capital, which he was in the habit of lending on mortgage, always for a large interest, and on substantial security. he was supposed to be rich, but did not live like a rich man. his dwelling lay a little way back from the street; it was small, cramped, and uncomfortable, and his style of living was of the most economical character. he was a bachelor, and the only other members of his family were his sister, sally wolverton, who resembled her brother in person and character, and a nephew, sam, the son of a brother, who came in for a liberal share of ill-treatment from the uncle, on whom he was dependent. richard burton reined up in front of wolverton's office, and, leaping from his carriage, unceremoniously opened the outer door. "good morning, wolverton," he said, cheerily. aaron wolverton, a meagre and wrinkled man of fifty-five, looked up from his desk, and scanned his visitor's face attentively. he was not sure but richard burton, who was a high-spirited man, had come to take him to task for his attack upon bob a short time before. whenever he thought of it, he fairly trembled with rage and humiliation, for the boy had conquered him, and he knew it. burton's words reassured him. "i have come to pay interest on the mortgage, wolverton. i suppose you haven't forgotten that?" "no." "catch you forgetting a thing of that kind. that wouldn't be like you." "i suppose you don't want to lift the mortgage?" "no; it is all i can do to pay the interest. the first six months have passed remarkably quick." "not to me." "no, for you are to receive money, i to pay it. it makes all the difference in the world. i suppose you are not in need of the money?" "no, not at present," answered wolverton, slowly; "but if i had it i could get higher interest." "higher interest! isn't ten per cent. enough for you?" "nothing is enough, as long as i can get more." "come, wolverton, don't be such a money-grabber. you must be rolling in money." the old man shrugged his shoulders in deprecation. "times are dull, and--i lose money sometimes," he said. "not much, if you know it," said burton, jocosely. "well, just write a receipt for six months' interest, one hundred and fifty dollars." aaron wolverton took the proffered bills, eyeing them with eager cupidity, and put them in his desk. then he made out a receipt, and handed it to his visitor. "you will be paying the mortgage next year?" he said inquiringly. "i don't know, wolverton. if the crops are good, i may pay a part. but i am afraid i am not a very good manager. i can't save money like you, and that brings me round to the question: for whom are you piling up all this wealth? is it for sam?" "sam is a young loafer," said wolverton, with a frown. "i give him a home and his living, and he is almost too lazy to breathe." "you were not that way at his age?" "no. i worked early and late. i was a poor boy. all that i have, i made by hard work." "take my advice, wolverton, and get the worth of it while you live. but perhaps you are saving with a view to matrimony. ha, ha!" and richard burst into a ringing laugh. wolverton puckered up his face, and snarled: "why shouldn't i marry if i choose? what is there to laugh at?" "no reason at all. i advise you to marry. you ought to, for i have found happiness in marrying one of the sweetest women in the world." then without any apparent reason, remembering that the man before him had aspired to the hand of his wife, he burst into another laugh, which he kept up till the tears ran from his eyes. he didn't notice the evil expression which it called up in the face of the moneylender. "i'd like to kill him where he stands," thought aaron wolverton. "she must have told him about me. curse him! he stole her from me, and now he dares to laugh in my face!" but wolverton was not a man to indulge even his evil temper when it was impolitic to do so. he forced himself to look indifferent, and merely said: "let them laugh that win, mr. burton. perhaps my time may come some day." "perhaps it may, wolverton. i heartily hope that you may find some one to make your life happy. i am happy myself, and i like to see others happy." there was a little more conversation, and then richard burton went out. "good-bye, wolverton. come to my ranch some time. i'll give you a seat at supper, and we will smoke a cigar afterwards." the colt--for it was scarcely more than that--was getting restless. it was pawing the ground and evidently anxious to get away. "your horse has a bad temper, mr. burton," said wolverton. "yes, he needs taming. he's not well trained yet." "there's something more than that," wolverton said to himself, thoughtfully. "horses are like men--they often have nasty tempers. i wouldn't ride behind that brute for--for the money burton has just paid me. some day he'll get upset, or thrown. and if he does," he continued, after a pause, "why should i lament? he has taken from me the only woman i ever loved. she might have made a different man of me--perhaps." just then a boy came up the street. he stopped and eyed aaron wolverton with a little misgiving. "sam," said wolverton, sharply, "what kept you so long? do you want the strap again?" "indeed, uncle, i hurried as fast as i could. mr. jenks kept me waiting." "that is probably a lie," growled wolverton. "however, since you are here, go into your dinner. it is cold by this time, most likely." it was cold and uninviting, but sam could not afford to be dainty, and ate what was set before him by his aunt. chapter iii. a little retrospect. richard burton, three years previous to the opening of this story, was a dry-goods merchant in st. louis. becoming tired of the dull routine of his daily life, and with a wistful remembrance of the country, where he had passed his boyhood, he sold out his business for a few thousand dollars, and with the sum realized bought a large ranch located on a small river or creek running into the missouri. in taking this course he was influenced in no small degree by a city acquaintance, aaron wolverton, who six months before had located himself in the same township, and who, indeed, had made the purchase of the ranch on his behalf. wolverton made a large commission on the transaction--larger than richard burton was aware; but it must be admitted he had bought him an excellent property. burton was entirely unacquainted with the fact that wolverton had at an earlier period been an unsuccessful suitor for his wife's hand, nor did he know it till the morning on which our story opens. it is always rather a hazardous experiment when a man, engaged till middle life in other business, becomes a tiller of the soil without special training for his new occupation. few persons make farming profitable, however well qualified, and the st. louis merchant was hardly likely to do more than make a living. in fact, he did not make both ends meet, but fell behind every year till he felt compelled to borrow three thousand dollars on mortgage of aaron wolverton. his wife expressed uneasiness, but he laughed away her remonstrances, and assured her he should be able to pay it back in a couple of years, if fortune favored him with good crops. "you know, mary," he said cheerfully, "there are a good many extra expenses just at first, but it will be different in future. wolverton assures me that the ranch is a fine one, and that i can pay him back sooner than he desires, for he is glad to lend on such excellent security." mrs. burton was silent, but she was not convinced. robert burton, popularly called bob, was the only son of the ex-merchant. he thoroughly enjoyed the removal to the country, having a taste for manly sports. he usually spent a part of the day in study, reciting to a clergyman in the village, and the rest of his time he employed in hunting, fishing, and farm work. clip, the young refugee, was his chosen companion, and was sincerely attached to massa bob, as he generally called him. the negro lad was full of fun and innocent mischief, but had no malice about him. bob tried to teach him to read, but clip was no scholar. he complained that study made his head ache. "but you ought to know something, clip," expostulated bob. "you don't want to grow up an ignoramus." "what's dat?" asked clip, bewildered. "never heard such a long word. is it anything very bad?" "it means a know-nothing, clip." "i guess you're right, massa bob. dat's what i am." "but don't it trouble you, clip?" "no, massa bob; i guess i was never cut out for a scholar." still bob persevered in his effort to teach clip. one day, after an unsuccessful attempt to get him to understand the difference between capital b and r, he said: "clip, i don't believe you have got any sense." "spec's i haven't, massa bob," answered clip, philosophically. "how many have you got?" bob laughed. "i don't know exactly," he replied; "but i hope i have as many as the average." "i reckon you've got a lot. you learn awful easy." "i am afraid i shall have to learn for both of us, clip." "dat's so!" said clip, in a tone of satisfaction. "dat'll do just as well." so bob was finally obliged to give up teaching clip in despair. he was led to accept the conclusion of his young _protégé_ that he was never meant for a scholar. in one respect bob and clip shared the prejudices of mrs. burton. neither liked aaron wolverton. they felt friendly, however, to sam wolverton, the nephew; and more than once sam, with his appetite unsatisfied at home, came over to burton's ranch and enjoyed a hearty lunch, thanks to the good offices of bob burton. one day he came over crying, and showed the marks of a severe whipping he had received from his uncle. "what did you do, sam?" asked bob. sam mentioned the offense, which was a trifling one, and unintentional besides. "your uncle is a brute!" said bob indignantly. "dat's so, sam," echoed clip. "it would do me good to lay the whip over his shoulders." sam trembled, and shook his head. he was a timid boy, and such an act seemed to him to border on the foolhardy. "how old are you, sam?" "fourteen." "in seven years you will be a man, and he can't tyrannize over you any longer." "i don't believe i shall live so long," said sam, despondently. "yes, you will. even in four years, when you are eighteen, your uncle won't dare to beat you." "why don't you run away, like i did?" asked clip, with a bright idea. but sam was not of the heroic type. he shrank from throwing himself on the world. "i should starve," he said. "would you run away, clip, if you were in my place?" "wouldn't i just!" "and you, bob?" "he wouldn't strike me but once," said bob, proudly. "it's all well enough for you, but i think i'm a coward. when my uncle comes at me my heart sinks into my boots, and i want to run away." "you'll never make a hero, sam." "no, i won't. i'm an awful coward, and i know it." "how is your aunt? is she any better than your uncle?" "she's about the same. she don't whip me, but she's got an awful rough tongue. she will scold till she's out of breath." "how long have you lived with your uncle?" "about four years. when my father died, he told me to go to uncle aaron." "didn't he leave any property?" "uncle aaron says he didn't leave a cent, and i suppose it's so; but father told me in his last sickness there'd be some property for me." "i've no doubt there was, and he cheated you out of it," said bob indignantly. "that's just my opinion of your uncle." "even if it is so, i can't do anything. it'll do no good. but i'd like to know how it is, for uncle aaron is all the time twitting me with living on him." "as if you don't do enough to earn your own living. why, you work harder than clip, here, though that isn't saying much," added bob, with a smile. clip showed his white teeth, and seemed to enjoy the joke. "spec's i was born lazy," he said, promptly. "dat ain't my fault, ef i was born so." "that wouldn't be any excuse with uncle aaron," remarked sam. "he thinks i'm lazy, and says he means to lick the laziness out of me." "i think we had better hire out clip to him. he needs a little discipline like that sort." "oh golly, massa bob! i couldn't stand it nohow," said clip, with a comical expression of alarm. "massa wolverton's the meanest white man i ever seed. wish an earthquake would come and swallow him up." "your father was round to see my uncle this morning," said sam. "yes, i know; he went to pay him some interest money." "your father is a nice gentleman. i wish i was his nephew," said poor sam, enviously. "yes, sam; he's always kind. he's a father to be proud of." "by the way, sam, i've got some good news for you." "what is it, bob?" "your uncle carried home a pair of prairie chickens this morning. you'll have one good dinner, at least." "where did he get them?" "i shot them." "and you gave them to him?" asked sam, surprised. "well, yes, after a little squabble," and bob related the adventure of the morning. "how brave you are, bob!" said sam admiringly. "you actually had a quarrel with uncle aaron?" "yes," answered bob, with a smile. "when i got through, your uncle was lying on his back resting. i threw down two of the chickens, as much for your sake as any other reason. i hope you'll get your share." "i saw the chickens in the kitchen before i came away, and wondered where they came from. i knew uncle aaron wouldn't buy them." "has your uncle got a gun?" "no; i think he's afraid of a gun." "and you are afraid of him?" "i can't help it, bob. he flogs me sometimes with a horsewhip." "i'd like to see him try it on me," said bob, with emphasis. "but as i said before, you'll be a man some time, sam, and then he won't dare touch you." chapter iv. the sudden summons. when richard burton left the office of aaron wolverton, he did not return home immediately. he had a business call to make in the next township, and drove over there. finding that he was likely to be detained, he went to the hotel to dine, and, the day being warm, sat on the piazza and smoked a cigar afterwards. it was not until four o'clock that he turned his horse's head in the direction of carver. the horse he drove was young and untrained. it would have been dangerous for an unskillful driver to undertake to manage him. robert burton, however, thoroughly understood horses, and was not afraid of any, however fractious. but he had been persuaded to drink a couple of glasses of whisky by acquaintances at the hotel, and he was easily affected by drink of any kind. so his hand was not as strong or steady as usual when he started on his homeward journey. the horse seemed instinctively to know that there was something the matter with his driver, and, as he turned back his head knowingly, he prepared to take advantage of it. so he made himself more troublesome than usual, and burton became at first annoyed and then angry. "what ails you, you vicious brute?" he exclaimed, frowning. "you need a lesson, it seems." he gave a violent twitch to the reins, more violent than he intended, and the animal swerved aside suddenly, bringing one wheel of the wagon into forcible collision with a tree by the roadside. this, coming unexpectedly, threw richard burton violently from his seat, and he was pitched out of the carriage, his head being thrown with force against the tree which had been the occasion of the shock. there was a dull, sickening thud, and the poor man lay insensible, his eyes closed and his breast heaving. the horse detached himself from the wagon and ran home--they were within half a mile of the village now--leaving his driver without sense or motion beside the wrecked wagon. he had lain there not over twenty minutes, when a pedestrian appeared upon the scene. it was aaron wolverton, who was on his way to the house of a tenant to collect rent. he had been walking with his eyes fixed upon the ground, thinking intently, when all at once, raising his eyes, he started in amazement at the sight of the wrecked carriage and the prostrate man. "who can it be?" he asked himself in excitement. his eyes were failing, and he could not distinguish, till close at hand, the person of the stricken man. "robert burton!" he exclaimed in excitement, when at last he had discovered who it was. "how on earth did this accident happen?" he bent over the prostrate man and placed his hand upon his heart. alas! it had already ceased to beat. the features wore a startled and troubled look, the reflection of the feelings excited by the collision. "well, well!" ejaculated wolverton, awed in spite of himself by the sight, "who would have dreamed of this? and only this morning he called on me to pay his interest." there was a sudden suggestion, begotten of his greed, that entered that instant into wolverton's mind. "he can't have gone home since," he bethought himself. "he must have the receipt with him." even if he had, what did it concern wolverton? the money had been paid, but there was no evidence of it except the receipt which he had given him. with trembling fingers, wolverton, bending over, searched the clothes of the dead man, half turning his eyes away, as if he feared to meet robert burton's look. at last he found it. burton had thrust it carelessly into his vest pocket. with a furtive look, to see if he were observed, aaron wolverton put the receipt into his own pocket. then he rose to his feet, and turned to go away. he had no desire to remain any longer by the side of the dead. meanwhile the horse had dashed into the village at wild speed. now it happened that clip, sent on an errand to the store by mrs. burton, was in the village. his eyes opened wide when he saw the horse dash by him. "what's dat mean?" clip asked himself, staring with all his eyes at the runaway horse. "what's come of massa burton? must have been an accident. wagon must have upset, and--golly! i hope massa burton isn't killed nor noting." clip was all alive with excitement. he had the sense not to attempt to follow the horse, but ran as fast as he could in the direction from which the horse had come. there, he argued, must be the wagon and its rider. it was a straight road, and he was not long in reaching the scene of the casualty. he came in sight of it at the moment when aaron wolverton was bending over the prostrate man, and searching his pockets. here was another surprise for clip. "what is massa wolverton doing," he asked himself. he was sure he was not up to any good, for, as we have already seen, he had no love for the real estate agent, and thought him a very bad man. clip had no small share of curiosity, and, intent on finding out what wolverton was doing, he slid behind a tree about a foot in diameter, which happened to be conveniently situated. grief struggled with curiosity, for clip had already seen the wrecked team and the prostrate figure of the kind master, to whom he felt warmly attached. "poor massa burton! i hope he isn't dead," thought clip. "jes' as soon as old wolverton goes away i'll go up and look. won't mrs. burton feel bad?" all the while clip was watching the movements of the real estate agent. "what's he searchin' massa burton's pockets for?" he asked himself. "spec's he's going to rob him. didn't think the old man was so mean before. i'd jes' like to jump out and scare him." meanwhile wolverton finished his discreditable business, happily unconscious that any one was witness of his mean act. then, as already stated, he got up and walked swiftly away, not venturing to look back. had he done so he would have seen clip stealing from behind the tree which had served to screen him from observation, and running towards the wreck. clip had never before seen death, but there was something in the mute look of richard burton that awed the soul of the colored boy. clip had an affectionate heart. he felt that richard burton must be dead, and the thought overpowered him. "poor massa burton!" he cried, bursting into tears. "he's done dead, sure 'nough. oh, what will we do?" a minute later clip bounded off like a deer, to carry the sad news to the village. he met the village doctor driving along in his top buggy, and he quickly called out to him: "go quick, massa doctor, for de love of god. poor massa burton's upset himself, and i 'spec's he's dead." "whereabouts, clip?" demanded the doctor, startled. "up the road a piece." "jump in with me and show me." so clip, seated beside the doctor, guided him to the fatal spot. the doctor lost no time in jumping out of his buggy and approaching the fallen man. he didn't need to feel his pulse, or place his hand over his heart. to his practiced eye there were other indications that disclosed the terrible truth. "is he dead?" asked clip, in an awed voice. "yes, clip; your poor master is dead," answered the doctor, sadly. he had known richard burton well, and, like all the rest of his neighbors, had a warm esteem for him. "how did this happen, clip?" he asked. "i don't know, massa doctor; 'deed i don't," answered clip. "i was walkin' along, when i saw the colt runnin' like mad, wid his harness on, and i 'spected something had happened. so i came up, and dat's what i saw." "we can't do anything, clip, except to see that he is carried home. i dread to break the news to his poor wife." meanwhile aaron wolverton had locked himself in his office. he drew the receipt from his pocket, read it through carefully, and chuckled: "i'll get the money out of the widder. she can't prove that the interest has been paid! but i don't care so much for that as i do to get even with that impudent rascal bob. he'll rue this day, as sure as my name is aaron wolverton." chapter v. wolverton's first move. why did not aaron wolverton burn the receipt, and get rid once for all of the only proof that the interest had been paid? it would have been the most politic thing to do, inasmuch as he had made up his mind to be dishonest. but, though unprincipled, he was not a bold man. the thought did certainly occur to him, and he even went so far as to light a match. but more timid counsel prevailed, and he concealed it in his desk, carefully locking the desk afterwards. it is unnecessary to describe the grief of the little family at burton's ranch when the body of the master was brought home. no one had dreamed of speedy death for richard burton. he seemed so strong and vigorous that it would have seemed safe to predict for him a long life--long beyond the average; yet here, in middle life, in the fullness of health and vigor, the summons had come. to mrs. burton, who was a most devoted wife, it was a crushing blow. it seemed at first as if it would be happiness to lie down beside her dead husband, and leave the world for him. "what have i to live for now?" she asked, mournfully. "you have me, mother," answered bob, gently. "i have lost my father. what would become of me if i should lose my mother also?" "you are right, robert," said mrs. burton. "i was wrong to give way; but it is a very hard trial." "indeed it is, mother," said robert, kissing her affectionately. "but we must try to bear up." mrs. burton felt that this was her plain duty, and henceforth strove to control her emotions. she ceased to sob, but her face showed the grief she suffered. the funeral took place, and the little family held a council to decide what was to be done. "can we carry on the ranch now that your father is gone?" asked mrs. burton, anxiously. "would it not be better to sell it?" "no, mother; the sacrifice would be too great." "but i do not feel capable of managing it, robert." "you may think me presumptuous, mother, but my proposal is to assist you, relieving you of the greater part of the care. between us we can carry it on, i am confident." "you are only a boy of sixteen, robert," objected his mother. "that is true; but i have watched carefully the manner in which the ranch has been carried on. of course you must help, and you will try to get a man with whom i can advise. i am sure we can make a good deal more out of the farm than we could realize from investing the money it would bring." "and are you willing to undertake this, robert? it will be a hard task." "i'll help him, missis," said clip, eagerly. "i shall have clip to advise me, mother," said robert. "no doubt clip is willing," said mrs. burton, smiling faintly; "but after all, it will be only two boys." "try us a single year, mother," said bob, confidently. mrs. burton gave her consent, and bob at once took his father's place, rising early and going to the field to superintend the farming operations. he seemed to have developed at once into a mature man, though in appearance he was still the same. clip was his loyal assistant, though, being a harum-scarum boy, fond of fun and mischief, he was of very little service as adviser. he had mentioned to bob seeing aaron wolverton bending over the body of his father, and exploring his pockets. this puzzled bob, but he was not prepared to suspect him of anything else than curiosity, until his mother received a call from the real estate agent a month after her husband's decease. aaron wolverton had been anxious to call before, but something withheld him. it might have been the consciousness of the dishonorable course he had taken. be that as it may, he finally screwed up his courage to the sticking-point, and walked out to burton's ranch early one afternoon. mrs. burton was at home, as usual, for she seldom went out now. she had no intimate friends in the neighborhood. all that she cared for was under her own roof. she looked up in some surprise when mr. wolverton was ushered into the sitting-room. "i hope i see you well, mrs. burton," said the real estate agent, slipping to a seat, and placing his high hat on his knees. "i am well in health, mr. wolverton," answered the widow, gravely. "yes, yes, of course; i understand," he hastily answered. "terribly sudden, mr. barton's death was, to be sure, but dust we are, and to dust we must return, as the scripture says." mrs. burton did not think it necessary to make any reply. "i came over to offer my--my condolences," continued mr. wolverton. "thank you." "and i thought perhaps you might stand in need of some advice from a practical man." "any advice will be considered, mr. wolverton." "i've been thinkin' the thing over, and i've about made up my mind that the best thing you can do is to sell the ranch," and the real estate agent squinted at mrs. burton from under his red eyebrows. "that was my first thought; but i consulted with robert, and he was anxious to have me carry on the ranch with his help." aaron wolverton shook his head. "a foolish plan!" he remarked. "excuse me for saying so. of course you, being a woman, are not competent to carry it on--" "i have my son robert to help me," said the widow. aaron wolverton sniffed contemptuously. "a mere boy!" he ejaculated. "no; not a mere boy. his father's death and his affection for me have made a man of him at sixteen. he rises early every morning, goes to the fields, and superintends the farming operations. peter, my head man, says that he is a remarkably smart boy, and understands the business about as well as a man." "still i predict that he'll bring you deeper in debt every year." "i don't think so; but, at any rate, i have promised to try the experiment for one year. i can then tell better whether it will be wise to keep on or sell." "now, mrs. burton, i have a better plan to suggest." "what is it, mr. wolverton?" "in fact, i have two plans. one is that you should sell me the ranch. you know i hold a mortgage on it for three thousand dollars?" "i know it, mr. wolverton!" answered the widow, gravely. "i'll give you three thousand dollars over and above, and then you will be rid of all care." "will you explain to me how robert and i are going to live on the interest of three thousand dollars, mr. wolverton?" "you'll get something, and if the boy runs the ranch you'll get nothing. he can earn his living, and i don't think you will suffer, even if you have only three thousand dollars." "it is quite out of the question. mr. burton considered the ranch worth ten thousand dollars." "a very ridiculous over-valuation--pardon me for saying so." "at any rate, i don't propose to sell." "there's another little circumstance i ought to mention," added wolverton, nervously. "there is half a year's interest due on the mortgage. it was due on the very day of your husband's death." mrs. burton looked up in amazement. "what do you mean, mr. wolverton?" she said. "my husband started for your office on the fatal morning of his death, carrying the money--one hundred and fifty dollars--to meet the interest. do you mean to tell me that he did not pay it?" "that is strange, very strange," stammered aaron wolverton, wiping his forehead with a bandana handkerchief. "what became of the money?" "do you mean to say that it was not paid to you?" asked the widow, sharply. "no, it was not," answered wolverton, with audacious falsehood. chapter vi. the lost receipt. "i can't understand this," said mrs. burton, beginning to be troubled. "my poor husband had made all arrangements for paying his interest on the day of his death. when he left the house, he spoke of it. do you mean to say he did not call at your office?" if aaron wolverton had dared, he would have denied this, but mr. burton had been seen to enter the office, and so that he would not do him any good. "he did call upon me, mrs. burton." "and said nothing about the interest?" "he said this, that he would pay me the coming week." "he said that, when he had the money in his pocket?" said mrs. burton, incredulously. "of course i didn't know that he had the money with him. he probably thought of another way in which he wanted to use a part or all of it." "i don't believe it. he never mentioned any other use for it, and he was not owing any one except you. mr. wolverton, i don't like to say it, but i think he paid you the interest." "do you doubt my word?" demanded wolverton, with assumed indignation. "suppose i say that you have forgotten it." "i would not forget anything of that kind. you are very unjust, mrs. burton, but i will attribute that to your disappointment. let me suggest one thing, however. if your husband had paid me, he would have been sure to take a receipt. if you have his wallet here--i happen to know that he was in the habit of carrying a wallet--and you doubt my word, examine the wallet and see if you can find the receipt." mrs. burton thought this a good suggestion, and went up-stairs for the wallet. she opened it, but, as wolverton had good reason to know would be the case, failed to find the important paper. "i can't find it," she said, as she re-entered the room. "did i not tell you so?" returned wolverton, triumphantly. "doesn't that settle it? wasn't your husband a good enough business man to require a receipt for money paid?" "yes, yes," murmured the widow. "mr. wolverton, if you are right it arouses in my mind a terrible suspicion. could my husband have been waylaid, murdered, and robbed?" "no, i don't think so. his death was evidently the result of accident--the upset of his team." "what then became of the money--the hundred and fifty dollars which he carried with him?" "there, my dear lady, you ask me a question which i cannot answer. i am as much in the dark as you are." "if this story is true, then we are one hundred and fifty dollars poorer than we supposed. it will be bad news for robert." "it need not be bad news for you, mrs. burton," said wolverton, in an insinuating tone, shoving his chair a little nearer that occupied by the widow. mrs. burton looked up in surprise. "how can it fail to be bad news for me?" she asked. "a loss like that i cannot help feeling." "do you think i would be hard on _you_, mrs. burton?" asked wolverton, in the same soft voice. "if you are disposed to wait for the money, or relinquish a part under the circumstances, robert and i will feel very grateful to you, mr. wolverton." "i might, upon conditions," said the agent, furtively shoving his chair a little nearer. "what conditions?" asked mrs. burton, suspiciously. "i will tell you, if you won't be offended. mrs. burton--mary--you can't have forgotten the early days in which i declared my love for you. i--i love you still. if you will only promise to marry me--after a while--all shall be easy with you. i am a rich man--richer than people think, and can surround you with luxuries. i will be a father to that boy of yours, and try to like him for your sake. only tell me that you will be mine!" mrs. burton had been so filled with indignation that she let him run on, quite unable to command her voice sufficiently to stem the torrent of his words. as he concluded, she rose to her feet, her eyes flashing, and her voice tremulous with anger, and said: "mr. wolverton, are you aware that my poor husband has been dead but a month?" "i am perfectly aware of it, mary." "don't address me so familiarly, sir." "mrs. burton, then, i am perfectly acquainted with that fact, and would not have spoken now, but i saw you were anxious about the future, and i wished to reassure you. of course i wouldn't hurry you; i only meant to get some kind of an answer that i might depend upon." "and you thought that, after loving such a man as richard burton, i would be satisfied to take such a man as you?" said the widow, with stinging sarcasm. "richard burton was not an angel," said wolverton, harshly, for his pride was touched by the contempt which she made no effort to conceal. "don't dare to say anything against him!" said the widow, her eyes flashing ominously. "well, then, he was an angel," said wolverton, sulkily; "but he's dead, and you will need to look to another protector." "my son will protect me," said mrs. burton, proudly. "that boy?" said wolverton, contemptuously. "but i make allowance for a mother's feelings. once more, mary, i make you the offer. remember that i am a rich man, and can surround you with luxuries." "i would rather live in a log house on a crust, than to marry you, mr. wolverton," she said, impetuously. "if you were the only man in the world, i would go unmarried to my grave rather than wed you!" wolverton rose, white with wrath. "you are tolerably explicit, madam," he said. "i can't charge you with beating round the bush. but let me tell you, ma'am, that you have done the unwisest act of your life in making me your enemy." "i did not mean to make you an enemy," said mrs. burton, softening. "i suppose i ought to acknowledge the compliment you have paid me, but i must decline, once for all, and request you never again to mention the subject." aaron wolverton was not so easily appeased. "i do not care to stay any longer," he said. "you had better mention to your son about the interest." mrs. burton had an opportunity to do this almost immediately, for bob and clip entered the house just as wolverton was leaving it. "what have you done to mr. wolverton, mother?" asked bob. "he looked savage enough to bite my head off, and wouldn't even speak to me." "robert, i have some bad news to tell you. mr. wolverton tells me that your father didn't pay him the interest on the day of his death." "i believe he tells a falsehood," said bob, quickly. "but he says, with some show of reason, if the interest was paid, why didn't your father take a receipt?" "can no receipt be found?" "no; i searched your father's wallet in vain." "what is a receipt, missis?" asked clip. "it's a piece of paper with writing on it, clip," said the widow, adjusting her explanations to clip's intelligence. "golly! i saw de old man take a piece of paper from massa burton's pocket after he was dead--when he was a-lyin' on the ground." "say that again, clip," said bob, eagerly. clip repeated it, and answered several questions put to him by mrs. burton and bob. "it's all clear, mother," said bob. "that old rascal has got up a scheme to rob you. he thinks there isn't any proof of the payment. if he suspected that clip had been a witness of his robbery he would have been more careful." "what shall i do, bob?" "wait a while. let him show his hand, and then confront him with clip's testimony. i wonder if he destroyed the receipt?" "probably he did so." "if he didn't, i may get it through sam. don't be worried, mother. it'll all come out right." one thing the widow did not venture to tell bob--about mr. wolverton's matrimonial offer. it would have made him so angry that she feared he would act imprudently. chapter vii. wolverton's adventure with clip. bob and his mother deliberated as to whether they should charge mr. wolverton openly with the theft of the receipt. on the whole, they decided to wait a while, and be guided by circumstances. if he took any measures to collect the money a second time, there would be sufficient reason to take the aggressive. bob had another reason for delay. he intended to acquaint sam wolverton with the matter, and request him to keep on the lookout for the receipt. should he find it, he knew that sam would gladly restore it to the rightful owner. he cautioned clip not to say anything about what he saw on the day of his father's death, as it would put wolverton on his guard, and lead him to destroy the receipt if still in his possession. i must now relate a little incident in which clip and aaron wolverton were the actors. the creek on which burton's ranch was located was a quarter of a mile distant from the house. it was about a quarter of a mile wide. over on the other side of the creek was the town of martin, which was quite as large as carver. in some respects it was a more enterprising place than carver, and the stores were better stocked. for this reason there was considerable travel across the creek; but as there was no bridge, the passage must be made by boat. bob owned a good boat, which he and clip used considerably. both were good rowers, and during mr. burton's life they spent considerable time in rowing for pleasure. now bob's time was so occupied that the boat was employed only when there was an errand in the opposite village. "clip," said bob, one morning, "i want you to go down to martin." "yes, massa bob," said clip, with alacrity, for he much preferred such a jaunt to working in the fields. the errand was to obtain a hammer and a supply of nails at the variety store in martin. clip was rather given to blunder, but still there was no reason why he should not execute the errand satisfactorily. clip went down to the creek, and unfastened the boat. he jumped in, and began to paddle away, when he heard a voice calling him. "here, you clip!" looking round, clip recognized in the man hailing him aaron wolverton. mr. wolverton did not own any boat himself, and when he had occasion to go across the river he generally managed to secure a free passage with some one who was going over. if absolutely necessary, he would pay a nickel; but he begrudged even this small sum, so mean was he. clip stopped paddling, and answered the call. "hi, massa wolverton; what's the matter?" "come back here." "what fo'?" "i want you to take me over to martin." now clip was naturally obliging, but he disliked wolverton as much as one of his easy good nature could do. so he felt disposed to tantalize him. "can't do it, massa wolverton. i'm in a terrible hurry." "it won't take you a minute to come back." "massa bob will scold." "you needn't mind that, boy. come back, i say!" "i dassn't." "don't be a fool, you little nigger. i'll pay you." "what'll you give?" asked clip, cautiously. "i'll give you--a cent." "couldn't do it, nohow. what good's a cent to me?" "a cent's a good deal of money. you can buy a stick of candy." "'tain't enough, massa wolverton. i ain't goin' to resk gettin' licked for a cent." cunning clip knew that there was no danger of this, but he thought it would serve as an argument. "i'll give you two cents," said wolverton, impatiently. "couldn't do it," said clip. "ef it was five, now, i might 'sider it." finally wolverton was obliged to accede to clip's terms, and the colored boy pushed the boat to shore, and took in his passenger. "can you row good, clip?" asked wolverton, nervously, for he was very much afraid of the water, and he had never had clip for a boatman before. "you jes' bet i can, massa wolverton. i can row mos' as good as massa bob." "well, show it then; i am in a hurry to get over the creek." clip rowed to the middle of the creek, and then stopped paddling. "i reckon you'd better pay me the money now, massa wolverton," he said. "why, you young rascal, are you afraid to trust me?" "i dunno 'bout dat; but i wants my money." "you haven't earned it yet. what are you afraid of?" "you might forget to pay me, massa wolverton." "no, i sha'n't. push on." "i'm goin' to sleep," said clip, lying back in a lazy attitude. "you young rascal! i've a good mind to fetch you a slap on the side of the head." "better not, massa wolverton," drawled clip. "might upset the boat." "give me the oars," said wolverton, impatiently. he took them; but he had never rowed in his life, and he almost immediately turned the boat around. "hi, yah!" laughed clip, delighted. "where was you raised, massa wolverton, not to understand rowin' no better dan dat?" "take the oars, you black scoundrel, and row me across, or i'll pitch you out of the boat!" "ef you do, what'll 'come of you, massa wolverton?" said clip, not at all alarmed. this was indeed an important consideration for a man so timid on the water as the real estate agent. "you put me out of all patience," said wolverton, furiously. "are you going to row or are you not?" "i want my money," said clip. wolverton was compelled to hand over a nickel, but registered a vow that if ever he caught clip on land, he would make him pay for his impudence. clip took the oars, and made very good progress till he was about fifty feet from the other side of the creek. then he began to make the boat rock, stopping his rowing. "what are you about?" shouted wolverton, turning pale. "it's good fun, ain't it, massa wolverton?" said clip; laughing insolently. "stop, you little rascal! you'll upset the boat." "golly! ain't dis fun?" said clip, continuing his rocking. "i'll choke you, if you don't stop," screamed wolverton. he rose to catch hold of clip. the boy jumped up, and ducked his head. the result of the combined motion was that the boat, which was flat-bottomed, capsized, and the two were thrown into the water. there was no danger, for the water at this point was only four feet deep; and clip could swim, while aaron wolverton was too tall to be drowned in that depth of water. wolverton was almost scared out of his wits. he cut such a ludicrous figure as he floundered in the water, that clip screamed with delight. the black boy swam to the boat, and, managing to right her, got in again; but wolverton waded to the shore, almost beside himself with rage. "is you wet, massa wolverton?" asked clip, innocently, showing his white teeth. "come ashore, and i'll lick you!" shouted wolverton, who had by this time landed, his clothes dripping wet. "i reckon i'm too busy," answered clip, with a grin. "i'm sorry you's wet, massa wolverton. hi yah!" "i'll wring your neck, you young tike!" said wolverton, savagely. "dat old man's a hog," mused clip. "ain't much like my poor old gran'ther. _he_ was always kin' an' good. i mind him sittin' in front of de ole cabin door down in arkansaw. i 'spec' de old chap's done dead afore this," concluded clip, with a sigh. clip kept at a safe distance from shore, and the agent was compelled to defer his vengeance, and go to the house of an acquaintance to borrow some dry clothes. when he returned, it is needless to say that it was not in clip's boat. he opened his desk, to enter a business transaction in his account-book, when he made a startling discovery. _the receipt had disappeared!_ chapter viii. wolverton's dismay. wolverton uttered a cry of dismay when he found that the receipt had disappeared. with trembling fingers he turned over a pile of papers in the hope of finding the important paper. "where on earth can it be?" he asked himself, with a troubled face. he set himself to consider when he had seen it last and where he had placed it. "it must be in the desk somewhere," he decided, and resumed his search. those of my readers who have mislaid any article can picture to themselves his increasing perplexity as the missing paper failed to turn up. he was finally obliged to conclude that it was not in the desk. but, if so, where could it be? if not found, or if found by any one else, his situation would be an embarrassing one. he had assured mrs. burton that the interest money had not been paid. now suppose the receipt were found, what would be the inference? he could not help acknowledging that it would look bad for him. until he learned something of its whereabouts he would not dare to press mrs. burton for a second payment of the interest money. "it is as bad as losing a hundred and fifty dollars," he groaned. "it is a pile of money to lose." aaron wolverton did not appear to consider that it was losing what was not his property, and was only preventing him from pushing a fraudulent claim. he actually felt wronged by this inopportune loss. he felt somehow that he was the victim of misfortune. but what could have become of the receipt? that was what troubled him. was there anybody who was responsible for its disappearance? naturally it would be important for mrs. burton to get hold of it; but then, they did not know of its existence. they had no evidence that the receipt had even been delivered to richard burton. still it was possible that bob burton had visited the house, and searched the desk. he would inquire of his sister. he opened the door leading to the kitchen, where miss sally wolverton was engaged in some domestic employment. "sally, has the burton boy been here this morning?" "no; why should he come? he isn't one of your visitors, is he?" "was he here yesterday?" "no; what makes you ask?" "there was a little business, connected with the farm, which he might have come about." "i am glad he didn't come," said sally. "he's too high-strung for me." "i don't like him myself; but sometimes we have to do business with those we don't like." "that's so. how's the widder left?" "she's got the ranch, but i hold a mortgage of three thousand dollars on it," replied her brother, his features expanding into a wintry smile. a man who can laugh heartily possesses redeeming traits, even if in some respects he is bad; but aaron wolverton had never been known to indulge in a hearty laugh. "can she pay?" "not at present." "is the mortgage for a term of years?" "no; it can be called in at the end of any year." "i never liked that woman," said miss sally wolverton, grimly. sally wolverton did not like any woman who was younger and prettier than herself, and there were few who were not prettier. she had never known of her brother's infatuation for the lady she was criticising, otherwise she would have been tempted to express herself even more strongly. she was strongly opposed to his marriage, as this would have removed her from her place in his household, or, even if she remained, would have deprived her of her power. aaron did not care at present to take her into his confidence. still he could not forbear coming, in a faint way, to the defense of the woman he admired. "mrs. burton is a fine-looking woman," he said. "fine looking!" repeated sally with a contemptuous sniff. "i don't admire your taste." "she isn't in your style, sally," said aaron, with a sly twinkle in his eye. sally wolverton was taller than her brother, with harsh features, a gaunt, angular figure, and an acid expression. "i hope not," she answered. "i hope i don't look like an insipid doll." "you certainly don't, sally; you have expression enough, i am sure." "do you think mrs. burton pretty?" asked sally, suspiciously. "oh, so so!" answered aaron, guardedly; for he did not care to reveal the secret to his sister at present. she was useful to him as a housekeeper, and moreover (an important point) she was very economical; more so than any person whom he could hire. he did indeed pay his sister, but only a dollar a week, and out of this she saved nearly one half, having the gift of economy in quite as large a measure as himself. this assurance, and her brother's indifferent tone, relieved sally from her momentary suspicion. yet, had she been able to read her brother's secret thoughts, she would have been a prey to anxiety. he had made up his mind, if ever he did marry mrs. burton, to give sally her walking-ticket. "i can't afford to support two women," he reflected, "and my wife ought to be able to do all the work in so small a household." "why are you so anxious to know whether any of the burtons have been here?" "i thought they might come," answered her brother, evasively. "you haven't seen anything of that black imp, clip, have you?" "no; has he any business with you?" "i have some business with him," snarled wolverton. "he played a trick on me this morning." "what sort of a trick?" "i got him to carry me across the creek in his boat, and he managed to upset me." "did he do it a-purpose?" "yes; he laughed like a hyena when he saw me floundering in the water." "if he comes round here, i'll give him a lesson. i can't abide a nigger any way. they're as lazy as sin, and they ain't got no more sense than a monkey. it's my opinion they are a kind of monkey, any way." fortunately for the colored race all are not so prejudiced against them as sally wolverton--otherwise they would be in a bad case. "by the way, sally, have you seen a stray paper about the floor in my room?" asked wolverton, with assumed carelessness. "what sort of a paper was it?" "it was a--a receipt," answered her brother, hesitating. "what kind of a receipt--from whom?" asked sally, who possessed her share of general curiosity. "that isn't to the point. if you have seen such a paper, or picked it up, i shall feel relieved. i might have to pay the money over again if i don't find it." this was misrepresenting the matter, but wolverton did not think it expedient to give his sister a clew to so delicate a secret. "no; i have seen no paper," she said shortly, not relishing his evasive reply. "have you searched your desk?" "yes." "and didn't find it?" "no." "suppose i look. four eyes are better than two." "no, thank you, sally," answered her brother, hastily. "i am particular about not having my papers disturbed." aaron wolverton would have gained some valuable information touching the missing paper if he could have transferred himself at that moment to burton's ranch. bob and clip were out in the yard when sam wolverton made his appearance, breathless and excited. "what's the matter, sam?" asked bob, wondering. "let me catch my breath," gasped sam. "i--i've got some good news." "then you are welcome. has your uncle got married?" "no; nor aunt sally either," replied sam. "what do you say to that?" and he drew from his vest pocket a long strip of paper. "what's that?" asked bob, eagerly. "_it's the receipt_", answered sam. chapter ix. sam's gift. "what!" exclaimed bob, in great excitement. "not the receipt for the money?" "that's just what it is," answered sam, nodding emphatically. "let me see it." sam put the paper in bob's hand. there it was in regular form, a receipt for one hundred and fifty dollars, being the semi-annual interest on a mortgage on burton's ranch, dated on the day of richard burton's death, and signed by aaron wolverton. "hurrah!" shouted bob, waving it aloft. "then father did pay it, after all, and that mean scoundrel--excuse my speaking of your uncle in such terms, sam--" "i don't mind," said sam, philosophically. "that mean scoundrel wanted us to pay the money a second time. i'm ever so much obliged to you, sam. but where on earth did you find it?" "i'll tell you, bob," answered sam, perching himself on the fence. "this forenoon uncle aaron started out on business--i don't know where he went." "i know," said clip, giving way to a burst of merriment. "how do you know?" "i rowed him across de creek. i was out in de boat when old massa wolverton come along and axed me to take him across. i made him pay me a nickel, and he got into de boat," and clip began to laugh once more. "i don't see anything to laugh at, clip." "you would, massa bob, ef you'd been dar. we was almost across when de old boat upset, yah! yah! and old massa wolverton--it makes me laugh like to split--tumbled into de water, and got wet as a drownded rat." "clip, you bad boy, you did it on purpose," said bob, trying to look stern. "wish i may die!" asseverated clip, stoutly, for he was not an imitator of george washington. "didn't de old man look mad, dough? he jest shook his fist at me, and called me a black imp, 'deed he did." "i am afraid he was right, clip," said bob, shaking his head. "but you haven't told me about the receipt, sam." "he sent me into his room to get his hat, when right down on the floor by his desk, i saw a piece of paper. i remembered what you told me, bob, about the receipt, so i picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. i had to be quick about it, for uncle aaron is always in a hurry. well, i took out the hat, and i didn't dare to take out the paper and look at it till he was out of sight." "and then--" "well, then i saw it was the paper you wanted." "mr. wolverton took it from the pocket of my poor father when he lay dead on the spot where he was thrown out," said bob, gravely. "it would be hard to think of a meaner piece of rascality." "well, i'm glad you've got it, bob. i don't know as i was right in taking it, but i'll take the risk." "if you never do anything worse than that, sam, you won't have much to answer for. i wish you'd let me give you something." "no, bob, you are my friend, and it would be a pity if i couldn't do you a favor without getting paid for it." "but this is a great favor. it is worth a hundred and fifty dollars. without it we might, and probable would, have to pay the interest money over again. now, when your uncle calls for it, we shall only have to show him the receipt." "he'll wonder where it came from." "i hope it won't get you into trouble, sam." "he won't suspect me. he'll know i couldn't break into his desk, and he won't know anything about having dropped it on the floor. i don't see how he came to be so careless." "depend upon it, sam, it was the work of providence. mother says that god often overrules the designs of the wicked, and i think this is an instance. henceforth, sam, though you are old wolverton's nephew, i shall consider you a friend of our family. why can't you stay to supper to-night?" "it would never do, bob, unless i asked permission." "then ask permission." "i am afraid it wouldn't be granted." "if your uncle is as mean as i think he is, he would be glad for you to get a meal at the expense of somebody else." "he wouldn't like to have me enjoy myself," said sam. "is he so mean as that?" "whenever he hears me singing, he looks mad, and wants to know why i am making a fool of myself." "he's an uncle to be proud of," said bob, ironically. "i just wish i could live at your house, bob." "perhaps i can make an exchange, and give clip to your uncle instead of you." "oh, massa bob, don't you do it!" exclaimed clip, looking scared. "old massa wolverton would kill me, i know he would. he hates niggers, i heard him say so." bob and sam laughed, being amused by the evident terror of the young colored boy. "i won't do it, clip, unless you are very bad," said bob, gravely, "though i think sam would be willing to change." "indeed i would," said sam with a sigh. "there's no such good luck for me." when bob carried in the receipt and showed it to his mother, her face lighted up with joy. "this is indeed a stroke of good fortune," she said; "or rather it seems like a direct interposition of providence--that providence that cares for the widow and the fatherless. you must make sam a present." "so i will, mother; but if he understands it is for this he won't take anything." "sam is evidently very different from his uncle. he is a sound scion springing from a corrupt trunk. leave it to me to manage. won't he stay to supper?" "not to-night. i invited him, but he was afraid to accept the invitation, for fear of being punished." "is his uncle so severe, then?" "i suspect he beats sam, though sam doesn't like to own it." "and this man, this cruel tyrant, wants to marry me," thought mrs. burton, shuddering. two days later sam chanced to be in the house with the two boys, when mrs. burton passed through the room, and greeted him pleasantly. "when is your birthday?" she asked. "last week--thursday--ma'am." "how old are you?" "fifteen." "did you receive a birthday present?" sam shook his head. "there's no one to give me presents," he said. "you have an uncle and aunt, sam." "they never give presents. they tell me i ought to be thankful that they take care of me, and save me from going to the poor-house." "there would be no danger of that, sam," said bob. "if your uncle ever turns you out to shift for yourself, come and live with us." "i wish he would turn me out to-morrow, then," said sam; and it was evident the boy meant it. "sam, you will permit me to make up for your uncle's neglect," said mrs. burton, kindly. "here is a neck-tie. i bought it for robert, but i can get another for him. and here is something else which may prove acceptable." she drew from her pocket a silver dollar, and put it into sam's hand. "is this really for me?" asked sam, joyfully. "yes; it is only a small gift, but--" "i never had so much money before in my life," said sam. "it makes me feel rich." mrs. burton looked significantly at bob. her woman's wit had devised a way of rewarding sam for the service he had done the family without his being aware of it. the gift was well meant, but it was destined to get poor sam into trouble. chapter x. sam in a tight place. many a man who had come unexpectedly into a fortune of a hundred thousand dollars would not have felt so rich as sam with his silver dollar. it must be remembered that he had never before had so much money at one time in his life. the prospect of spending it opened up dazzling possibilities. there were so many things that he wanted, that it was hard to decide which to select. among other things, sam wanted a fishing-pole. there was a supply at a variety store in the village. he had never inquired the price, because he had no money. now that he was wealthy he determined to inquire. so he went into the store and, pointing to the coveted article, asked the price. "seventy-five cents," answered the old man, gordon locke, who kept the store. "seventy-five cents!" repeated sam, thoughtfully. this would only leave him twenty-five cents, and there were so many other things he wanted. "was you calc'latin' to buy, sam?" asked mr. locke, pushing up his iron-bound spectacles. "i don't know," said sam, slowly; "i didn't think i'd have to pay so much." "it's cheap, for the quality," said the store keeper. "this ain't no common fishing-pole. it comes all the way from york." "yes, it seems a nice one," sam admitted. "hev you got the money about you?" asked the old man. "yes," answered sam, unguardedly. "then you'd better take the pole. you won't find no better within fifty mile." "i'll think about it," said sam. he could not make up his mind to part with his precious dollar so soon. as long as he had it, he felt like a man of property. when it was once changed, he would once more be a poor boy. in spite of the storekeeper's persuasions, he walked out with his money intact, leaving the coveted fishing-pole behind. now it so happened that his uncle, who never allowed anything to pass unnoticed, saw from the window sam come out of the store, which was nearly opposite. "what business has he there, i wonder?" he said to himself. five minutes later he made an errand to visit the store himself. "good-day, mr. wolverton," said gordon locke, deferentially. "good-day, locke! didn't i see my nephew, sam, come out of here just now?" "like as not you did. he was here." "what business had he here?" "he was looking at them fishin'-rods." "he was, hey?" said wolverton, pricking up his ears. "yes; he reckoned he'd buy one soon." "what's the price?" "seventy-five cents." "he reckoned he'd pay seventy-five cents for a fishin'-rod," said wolverton, slowly. "did he show you the money?" "no; but he said he had it." "oho, he had the money," repeated aaron wolverton, shaking his head ominously. "where'd he get it? that's what i'd like to know." "i reckon you gave it to him; he's your nephew." "i don't pamper him in any such way as that. so he's got money. i'll have to look into that." wolverton, who was of a suspicious disposition, was led to think that sam had stolen the money from him. he could think of no other way in which the boy could get possession of it. he went home, and sought his sister sally. "sally, where is sam?" "i don't know." then, noticing the frown upon her brother's brow, she inquired, "is anything the matter?" "i think there is. sam has money." "what do you mean? where'd he get it, aaron?" "that's what i want to find out," and he told her of sam's visit to the store. "have you missed any money, aaron?" "not that i know of. you haven't left any round?" "no." "it stands to reason the boy has taken money from one of us. even if he hasn't, whatever he has belongs to me by right, as i am takin' care of him." "half of it ought to go to me," said sally, who was quite as fond of money as her brother. "i don't know about that. but where's the boy?" "i don't know. he may have gone over to see the burtons. he's there most of the time." "i'll foller him." aaron wolverton went into the shed, and came out with a horse-whip. he did not keep a horse, but still he kept a whip. for what purpose sam could have told if he had been asked. "if the boy's become a thief, i want to know it," said wolverton to himself. sam had really started on the way to the burtons. his uncle struck his trail, so to speak, and followed him. he caught up with his nephew about half a mile away. sam had thrown himself down on the ground under a cotton-wood tree, and gave himself up to pleasant dreams of the independence which manhood would bring. in his reverie he unconsciously spoke aloud. "when i'm a man, uncle aaron won't dare to boss me around as he does now." the old man, creeping stealthily near, overheard the words, and a malicious smile lighted up his wrinkled face. "oho, that's what he's thinkin' of already," he muttered. "what more?" "i wish i could live with the burtons," proceeded the unconscious sam. "they would treat a boy decently." "so i don't treat him decently," repeated wolverton, his small eyes snapping. he had by this time crawled behind the trunk of the tree under which sam was reclining. "i sometimes think i'd like to run away and never come back," continued sam. "you do, hey?" snarled wolverton, as he stepped out from behind the tree. sam jumped to his feet in dire dismay, and gazed at his uncle panic-stricken. "did you just come?" he stammered. "i didn't hear you." "no, i reckon not," laughed his uncle, with a queer smile. "so you want to get quit of your aunt and me, do you?" "i don't reckon to live with you always," faltered sam. "no; but you ain't a-goin' to leave us just yet. there's a little matter i've got to inquire into." sam looked up inquiringly. "what is it?" "what did you go into locke's store for?" demanded his uncle, searchingly. "i just went in to look round," answered sam, evasively. "you went to look at a fishing-pole," said aaron wolverton, sternly. "what if i did?" asked sam, plucking up a little courage. "did you have the money to buy it?" "ye--es," answered sam, panic stricken. "how much money have you got?" "a dollar." "which you stole from me!" asserted wolverton, with the air of a judge about to sentence a criminal to execution. "no, i didn't. it didn't come from your house." "where did it come from?" "mrs. burton gave it to me--for my birthday." "i don't believe it. it's one of your lies. give it to me this instant." poor sam became desperate. what! was he to lose the only money of any account which he ever possessed? he was not brave, but he made a stand here. "you have no right to it," he said, passionately. "it's mine. mrs. burton gave it to me." "i tell you it's a lie. even if she had done so i should have the right, as your uncle, to take it from you. give it to me!" "i won't!" said sam, desperately. "won't, hey?" repeated wolverton, grimly. "well, we'll see about that." he raised the horse-whip, and in an instant sam's legs--he was standing now--felt the cruel lash. "won't, hey?" repeated his uncle. "we'll see." "help!" screamed sam. "will no one help me?" "i reckon not," answered his uncle, mockingly, and he raised his whip once more. but before the lash could descend, it was snatched from him, and, turning angrily, he confronted bob burton, fierce and indignant, and saw clip standing just behind him. chapter xi. an angry conference. "you ought to be ashamed of yourself, you brute!" exclaimed bob. "do you want me to thrash you, too?" snarled wolverton, angrily. "you can try, if you want to," returned bob, contemptuously. "sam, what was he going to whip you for?" asked bob, turning to his unfortunate friend. "i'll answer that question," said wolverton, "though it's no concern of yours. the boy has been robbing me." "what have you to say, sam?" "it's not true." "what do you charge him with taking, mr. wolverton?" "a dollar." "it's the one your mother gave me, bob." "to be sure! i saw her give it to you myself." "he lies, and you swear to it," said wolverton, with a sneer. "mr. wolverton, you have brought a false charge against your nephew, and you know it. if you don't care to take his word or mine, you can come over to our house and ask my mother whether sam's story is true." "it doesn't matter whether it's true or false," said wolverton, doggedly. "sam is under my charge, and i have a right to any money he comes by." "i always knew you were mean," said bob, contemptuously, "but this is ahead of anything i ever imagined. do you still accuse sam of robbing you?" "i don't know whether he did or not." "you can easily satisfy yourself by calling on my mother." "i mean to call on your mother, but it won't be on this business," said wolverton, opening his mouth and showing the yellow fangs which served for teeth. "you are at liberty to call on any business errand," said bob. "indeed, you are very kind, remarkably kind, considering that the ranch is as much mine as your mother's." "how do you make that out?" "i have a mortgage on it for half its value." "i deny it. the ranch is worth much more than six thousand dollars. besides, the time has not yet come when you have the right to foreclose." "there you are wrong, young man! as the interest has not been promptly paid, i can foreclose at any time." "you will have to see my mother about that," said bob, carefully concealing the fact that the receipt had been recovered. "i thought you would change your tune," said wolverton, judging from bob's calmer tone that he was getting alarmed. bob smiled, for he felt that he had the advantage, and foresaw wolverton's discomfiture when the receipt was shown him. "i am not quite so excited as i was," he admitted. "when i saw you with the whip uplifted i was ready for anything." "give me back the whip!" said wolverton, menacingly. "will you promise not to use it on sam?" "i'll promise nothing, you young whipper-snapper! what business have you to interfere between me and my nephew?" "the right of ordinary humanity." "give me the whip." "then make me the promise?" "i won't." "then i propose to keep it." "i will have you arrested for theft." "do so. i will explain matters to judge turner." judge turner, the magistrate before whom such cases came, heartily despised and hated aaron wolverton, as the latter knew full well. he would certainly dismiss any charge brought against bob by such a man. this consideration naturally influenced him. "very well," he said, though with an ill grace, "if your mother gave sam the money, i retract the charge of theft. nevertheless, as his guardian, i demand that the dollar be given to me." "give it to me to keep for you, sam," said bob. sam gladly took it from his pocket, and threw it towards bob, who dexterously caught it. "now, mr. wolverton," said bob, quietly; "you will have to demand the money from me; sam hasn't got it." "you'll have to pay for your impudence, robert burton!" said wolverton, wrathfully. "you forget that you are all in my power." "you may find yourself mistaken, mr. wolverton," said bob. "at any rate, i don't think i shall lose any sleep on that score." "you can tell your mother i shall call this evening," continued wolverton. "i expect her to be ready with the interest, which is long overdue." "i will give her your message, mr. wolverton. now, clip, let us go on. mr. wolverton will excuse us, i know, when i tell him that we have an errand in the village." "yah, yah!" laughed clip, gleefully; not that there was anything particular to laugh at, but because it took very little to excite clip's risibilities. mr. wolverton turned upon clip with a frown. he had not forgotten the trick clip played upon him when he was upset in the river, and he would have liked nothing better than to flog him till he roared for mercy. "what is that black ape grinning about?" he demanded. clip ought to have felt insulted, but he was only amused. "yah, yah!" he laughed again. aaron wolverton made a dash at him with his recovered whip, but clip nimbly jumped to one side and laughed again. "didn't do it dat time, massa wolverton," said clip, showing his teeth. "i'll get even with you yet, you black monkey!" if clip had been alone, wolverton would have proceeded then and there to carry out his threat. but he had a wholesome respect for bob, whose physical strength and prowess he well knew. it made him angry whenever he thought of this boy, who seemed born to be a thorn in his side. he was stronger than wolverton, though the land agent was a man grown, and it was humiliating to wolverton to be obliged to admit this fact. but he had one consolation in the mortgage he held upon the burton ranch. here the law was on his side, and he saw his way clear to annoy and injure bob and his family, without running any risk himself. as for the chance of the mortgage ever being paid off, that he thought extremely small. if richard burton were still alive, he would have been right, but bob, young as he was, bade fair to be a better manager than his father. he was not so sanguine, or, if the truth must be told, so reckless in his expenditures. besides, he knew, though his father was ignorant of it, that wolverton, for some reason which he could not penetrate, was a bitter enemy of the family, and that his forbearance could not be depended upon. when bob and clip had left the scene aaron wolverton turned to sam, and scowled at his unfortunate nephew, in a way which was by no means pleasant or reassuring. "i've a good mind to flog you for all the trouble you've brought upon me," he said. "i don't see what i've done, uncle." "you don't, hey? haven't you sided with that upstart, the burton boy?" sam was judiciously silent, for he saw his uncle was very much irritated. "why did you give that dollar to him?" "he told me to." "suppose he did; is he your guardian or am i?" "you are, uncle aaron." "i'm glad you are willing to admit it. then why did you give him the dollar?" "because his mother gave it to me. if you had given it to me, i wouldn't have done it." "you'll have to wait a good while before i give you a dollar." sam was of the same opinion himself, but did not think it wise to say so. "you deserve to be punished for what you have done," said his uncle, severely. "i wish i were as strong and brave as bob," thought sam. "i don't see how he dares to stand up before uncle aaron and defy him. he makes me tremble." the truth was, sam was not made of heroic mold. he was a timid boy and was easily overawed. he lacked entirely the qualities that made bob so bold and resolute. he could admire his friend, but he could not imitate him. "now, come home," said wolverton, shortly. sam followed his uncle meekly. when they reached home sam was set to work. at twelve o'clock the bell rang for dinner. sam dropped his axe (he had been splitting wood) and entered the kitchen, where the frugal meal was spread. his uncle was already sitting in his place, and sam prepared to sit down in his usual chair. "samuel," said his uncle, "you have disobeyed me. you do not deserve any dinner." sam's countenance fell, for he was very hungry. "i am very hungry," he faltered. "you should have thought of that when you disobeyed me and gave your money to the burton boy. this is intended as a salutary lesson, samuel, to cure you of your stubbornness and disobedience." "you are quite right, aaron," said miss sally in her deep voice. "samuel needs chastening." poor sam slunk out of the door in a state of depression. not being ordered to return to his work, he went out into the street, where he met bob and clip, and to them he told his tale of woe. "your uncle is as mean as they make 'em," said bob. "here, go into the baker's and buy some doughnuts and pie." he handed sam a quarter, and the hungry boy followed his advice, faring quite as well as he would have done at his uncle's table. rather to mr. wolverton's surprise, he worked all the afternoon without showing signs of hunger, and that gentleman began to consider whether, after all, two meals a day were not sufficient for him. chapter xii. wolverton's waterloo. though the receipt was lost, wolverton could not give up his plan of extorting the interest from mrs. burton a second time. it might have been supposed that he would have some qualms of conscience about robbing the widow and the fatherless, but mr. wolverton's conscience, if he had any, gave him very little trouble. he would have thought himself a fool to give up one hundred and fifty dollars if there was the slightest chance of securing them. towards evening of the day on which bob had interfered with him, he took his hat and cane, and set out for burton's ranch. it so happened that bob answered the bell. he had been sitting with his mother, chatting about their future plans. "good-evening, mr. wolverton," said bob, who felt it incumbent upon him to be polite to a guest, even though he disliked him. "evening," returned wolverton, curtly. "is your mother at home?" "yes, sir. will you come in?" wolverton had not the good manners to acknowledge the invitation with thanks, but strode into the sitting-room, following bob. the widow anticipated his visit, having been informed by bob that he had announced his intention of coming. "good-evening, mr. wolverton. take a seat," she said, pointing to a chair a few feet from her own. "robert, take mr. wolverton's hat." wolverton looked at the widow with a hungry gaze, for she was the only woman, he had ever loved. "if she would only marry me, all her troubles would be over," he said to himself. "she's a fool to refuse." we, who have some idea of mr. wolverton's character and disposition, are more likely to conclude that marriage with such a man would be only the beginning of trouble. "i've come on business, mrs. burton," said the visitor, in an aggressive tone. "state it, if you please, mr. wolverton," the widow answered, calmly. "hadn't you better send your son out of the room? we'd better discuss this matter alone." "i have no secrets from robert," said the widow. "oh, well, just as you please; i don't care to have him interfere in what doesn't concern him." "any business with my mother does concern me," said bob; "but i will try not to give you any trouble." "the business is about that interest," wolverton began, abruptly. "what interest?" "you must know what i mean--the interest on the mortgage." "my husband paid it on the day of his death." "it's easy enough to say that," sneered wolverton, "but saying it isn't proving it, as you must have the good sense to know." "when my husband left me on that fatal morning, he told me that he was going to your office to pay the interest. i know he had the money and with him, for he had laid down the wallet, and i saw the roll of bills." "why didn't he pay it, then? that's what i'd like to know." "didn't he pay it to you, mr. wolverton?" asked mrs. burton, with a searching glance. "carry back your memory to that day, and answer me that question." mr. wolverton showed himself a little restive under this interrogatory, but he assumed an air of indignation. "what do you mean, widder?" he demanded, bringing down his cane with emphasis upon the floor. "do you doubt my word?" "i think you may be mistaken, mr. wolverton," said mrs. burton, composedly. "who has been putting this into your head, widder? is it that boy of yours?" bob answered for himself: "i don't mind saying that i did tell mother that i thought the money had been paid." "humph! you think yourself mighty smart, bob burton," snarled wolverton. "nat'rally you'd like to get rid of paying the interest, if you could; but you've got a business man to deal with, not a fool." "you are no fool where money is concerned, there's no doubt about that. but i want to ask you one thing, if my father didn't pay you the money which mother can testify to his carrying with him on the morning of his death, what became of it?" "how should i know? did you search his wallet when he was brought home?" "yes." "and you didn't find the money?" "no." "so you conclude that he paid it to me. let me tell you, young man, that doesn't follow. he may have been robbed when he was lying on the ground insensible." "i think very likely he was," returned bob, quietly. "what do you mean by that?" demanded wolverton, uneasily. "who could have robbed him?" "possibly some one that we wouldn't be likely to suspect." "what does he mean? can he possibly suspect me?" thought wolverton, fixing his eyes on bob's face. "but no! i certainly didn't take any money from him." "you may be right," he said aloud; "but that hasn't anything to do with my claim for interest. whether your father was robbed of the money, or spent it, is all one to me. it wasn't paid to me, i can certify." "would you be willing to swear that the money was not paid to you that day, mr. wolverton?" "do you mean to insult me? haven't i told you it was not paid?" "do you expect me to pay it to you, then?" asked mrs. burton. "widder, i am surprised you should ask such a foolish question. it lies in a nutshell. i'm entitled to interest on the money i let your husband have on mortgage. you admit that?" "yes." "i'm glad you admit that. as your husband didn't pay, i look to you for it. i can say no more." mrs. burton took a pocket-book from a pocket in her dress, and handed it to robert. bob opened it, and drew therefrom a folded paper. "mr. wolverton," he said, quietly, "i hold in my hand a receipt signed by yourself for the interest--one hundred and fifty dollars--dated the very day that my poor father died. what have you to say to it?" mr. wolverton sprang to his feet, pale and panic-stricken. "where did you get that paper?" he stammered, hoarsely. [illustration: bob produces the missing receipt.] chapter xiii. what bob found in the creek. "when my poor husband left your office this receipt was in his possession," answered mrs. burton. "i deny it," exclaimed aaron wolverton, in a tone of excitement. "where else should it be?" inquired the widow, eying him fixedly. "i don't know. how should i?" "so you deny that the signature is yours, mr. wolverton?" "let me see it." "i would rather not," said bob, drawing back the receipt from wolverton's extended hand. "that's enough!" said wolverton quickly. "you are afraid to show it. i denounce it as a base forgery." "that will do no good," said the boy, un-terrified. "i have shown the receipt to mr. dornton, and he pronounces the signature genuine." "what made you show it to him?" asked wolverton, discomfited. "because i thought it likely, after your demanding the interest the second time, that you would deny it." "probably i know my own signature better than mr. dornton can." "i have no doubt you will recognize it," and bob, unfolding the paper, held it in such a manner that wolverton could read it. "it may be my signature; it looks like it," said wolverton, quickly deciding upon a new evasion, "but it was never delivered to your father." "how then do you account for its being written?" asked mrs. burton, in natural surprise. "i made it out on the day your husband died," wolverton answered glibly, "anticipating that he would pay the money. he did not do it, and so the receipt remained in my desk." bob and his mother regarded each other in surprise. they were not prepared for such a barefaced falsehood. "perhaps you will account for its not being in your desk now," said bob. "i can do so, readily," returned wolverton, maliciously. "somebody must have stolen it from my desk." "i think you will find it hard to prove this, mr. wolverton." "it is true, and i don't propose to lose my money on account of a stolen receipt. you will find that you can't so easily circumvent aaron wolverton." "you are quite welcome to adopt this line of defense, mr. wolverton, if you think best. you ought to know whether the public will believe such an improbable tale." "if you had the receipt why didn't you show it to me before?" wolverton asked in a triumphant tone. "i came here soon after your father's death, and asked for my interest. your mother admitted, then, that she had no receipt." "we had not found it then." "where, and when, did you find it?" "i do not propose to tell." wolverton shook his head, satirically. "and a very good reason you have, i make no doubt." "suppose i tell you my theory, mr. wolverton." "i wish you would," and wolverton leaned back in his chair and gazed defiantly at the boy he so much hated. "my father paid you the interest, and took a receipt. he had it on his person when he met with his death. when he was lying outstretched in death"--here bob's eyes moistened--"some one came up, and, bending over him, took the receipt from his pocket." mr. wolverton's face grew pale as bob proceeded. "a very pretty romance!" he sneered, recovering himself after an instant. "it is something more than romance," bob proceeded slowly and gravely. "it is true; the man who was guilty of this mean theft from a man made helpless by death is known. he was seen at this contemptible work." "it is a lie," cried wolverton, hoarsely, his face the color of chalk. "it is a solemn truth." "who saw him?" "i don't propose to tell--yet, if necessary, it will be told in a court of justice." wolverton saw that he was found out, but he could not afford to acknowledge. his best way of getting off was to fly into a rage, and this was easy for him. "i denounce this as a base conspiracy," he said, rising as he spoke. "that receipt was stolen from my desk." "then we do not need to inquire who took it from the vest-pocket of my poor father." "robert barton, i will get even with you for this insult," said wolverton, shaking his fist at the manly boy. "you and your mother." "leave out my mother's name," said bob, sternly. "i will; i don't think she would be capable of such meanness. you, then, are engaged in a plot to rob me of a hundred and fifty dollars. to further this wicked scheme, you or your agent have stolen this receipt from my desk. i can have you arrested for burglary. it is no more nor less than that." "you can do so if you like, mr. wolverton. in that case the public shall know that you stole the receipt from my poor father after his death. i can produce an eye-witness." wolverton saw that he was in a trap. such a disclosure would injure him infinitely in the opinion of his neighbors, for it would be believed. there was no help for it. he must lose the hundred and fifty dollars upon which, though he had no claim to it, he had so confidently reckoned. "you will hear from me!" he said, savagely, as he jammed his hat down upon his head, and hastily left the apartment. "aaron wolverton is not the man to give in to fraud." neither bob nor his mother answered him, but mrs. burton asked anxiously, after his departure: "do you think he will do anything, bob?" "no, mother; he sees that he is in a trap, and will think it wisest to let the matter drop." this, in fact, turned out to be the case. mortifying as it was to give in, wolverton did not dare to act otherwise. he would have given something handsome, mean though he was, if he could have found out, first, who saw him rob the dead man, and next, who extracted the stolen receipt from his desk. he was inclined to guess that it was bob in both cases. it never occurred to him that clip was the eye-witness whose testimony could brand him with this contemptible crime. nor did he think of sam in connection with his own loss of the receipt. he knew sam's timidity, and did not believe the boy would have dared to do such a thing. all the next day, in consequence of his disappointment, mr. wolverton was unusually cross and irritable. he even snapped at his sister, who replied, with spirit: "look here, aaron, you needn't snap at me, for i won't stand it." "how will you help it?" he sneered. "by leaving your house, and letting you get another housekeeper. i can earn my own living, without working any harder than i do here, and a better living, too. while i stay here, you've got to treat me decently." wolverton began to see that he had made a mistake. any other housekeeper would cost him more, and he could find none that would be so economical. "i don't mean anything, sally," he said; "but i'm worried." "what worries you?" "a heavy loss." "how much?" "a hundred and fifty dollars." "how is that?" "i have lost a receipt, but i can't explain how. a hundred and fifty dollars is a great deal of money, sally." "i should say it was. why can't you tell me about it?" "perhaps i will some time." about two months later, while bob was superintending the harvesting of the wheat--the staple crop of the burton ranch--clip came running up to him in visible excitement. "oh, massa bob," he exclaimed, "there is a ferry-boat coming down the creek with nobody on it, and it's done got stuck ag'inst a snag. come quick, and we can take it for our own. findings is keepings." bob lost no time in following clip's suggestion. he hurried to the creek, and there, a few rods from shore, he discovered the boat stranded in the mud, for it was low tide. chapter xiv. the boat and its owner. the boat was shaped somewhat like the popular representations of noah's ark. it was probably ninety feet in length by thirty-eight feet in width, and was roofed. bob recognized it at once as a ferry-boat of the style used at different points on the river, to convey passengers and teams across the river. it was a double-ender, like the much larger ferry-boats that are used on the east river, between new york and brooklyn. the creek on which the burton ranch was located was really large enough for a river, and bob concluded that this boat had been used at a point higher up. "i wish i owned that boat, clip," said bob. "what would you do with it, massa bob?" "i'll tell you what i'd do, clip; i'd go down to st. louis on it." "will you take me with you, massa bob?" asked clip, eagerly. "i will, if i go, clip." "golly, won't that be fine!" said the delighted clip. "how long will you stay, massa bob?" clip supposed bob intended a pleasure trip, for in his eyes pleasure was the chief end of living. but bob was more practical and business-like. he had an idea which seemed to him a good one, though as yet he had mentioned it to no one. "get out the boat, clip," he said, "and we'll go aboard. i want to see if the boat will be large enough for my purpose." clip laughed in amusement. "you must think you'self mighty big, massa bob," he said, "if you think there isn't room on that boat for you an' me." "it would certainly be large enough for two passengers like ourselves, clip," answered bob, smiling; "for that matter our rowboat is large enough for two boys, but if i go i shall carry a load with me." clip was still in the dark, but he was busying himself in unloosing the rowboat, according to bob's bidding. the two boys jumped in, and a few strokes of the oars carried them to the ferry-boat. fastening the flat-bottomed boat, the two boys clambered on deck. bob found the boat in good condition. it had occurred to him that it had been deserted as old and past service, and allowed to drift down the creek, but an examination showed that in this conjecture he was mistaken. it was sufficiently good to serve for years yet. this discovery was gratifying in one way, but in another it was a disappointment. as a boat of little value, bob could have taken possession of it, fairly confident that no one would interfere with his claim, but in its present condition it was hardly likely to be without an owner, who would appear sooner or later and put in his claim to it. "it seems to be a pretty good boat," said bob. "dat's so, massa bob." "it must have slipped its moorings and drifted down the creek during the night. i wish i knew who owned it." "you an' me own it, massa bob. finding is keeping." "i am afraid it won't be so in the present case. probably the owner will appear before long." "can't we get off down de river afore he comes, massa bob?" "that wouldn't be honest, clip." clip scratched his head in perplexity. he was not troubled with conscientious scruples, and was not as clear about the rights of property as his young patron. he was accustomed, however, to accept whatever bob said as correct and final. in fact, he was content to let bob do his thinking for him. "what was you goin' to take down de ribber, massa bob?" he asked. "i'll tell you what i was thinking of, clip. you know we are gathering our crop of grain, and of course it must be sold. now, traders ask a large commission for taking the wheat to market, and this would be a heavy tax. if i could load it on board this boat, and take it down myself, i should save all that, and i could sell it myself in st. louis." "can i go, too?" asked clip, anxiously. "you shall go if i do," answered bob. "when will you know?" asked clip, eagerly. "when i find out whether i can use this boat. i had thought of building a raft, but that wouldn't do. no raft that i could build would carry our crop to st. louis. this boat will be just the thing. i think it must have been used for that purpose before. see those large bins on each side. each would contain from fifty to a hundred bushels of wheat. i only wish i knew the owner. even if i couldn't buy the boat, i might make a bargain to hire it." bob had hardly finished his sentence when he heard a voice hailing him from the bank. going to the end of the boat, he looked towards the shore, and saw a tall angular figure, who seemed from his dress and appearance to be a western yankee. his figure was tall and angular, his face of the kind usually described as hatchet face, with a long thin nose, and his head was surmounted by a flapping sombrero, soft, broad-brimmed, and shapeless. "boat ahoy!" called the stranger. "did you wish to speak to us?" asked bob, politely. "i reckon i do," answered the stranger. "i want you to take me aboard that boat." "is the boat yours?" asked bob. "it doesn't belong to anybody else," was the reply. "untie the boat, clip. we'll go back!" ordered bob. the two boys dropped into the rowboat, and soon touched the bank. "if you will get in we'll row you over," said bob. "when did you lose the boat?" "it drifted down last night," answered the new acquaintance. "i've been usin' it as a ferry-boat about twenty miles up the creek. last night i thought it was tied securely, but this morning it was gone." "i don't see how it could have broken away." "like as not some mischievous boy cut the cable," was the answer. "any way, here it is, and here am i, ichabod slocum, the owner." "then the boat and its owner are once more united." "yes, but that don't take the boat back to where it belongs. it's drifted down here, easy enough; mebbe one of you boys will tell me how it's goin' to drift back." "there may be some difficulty about that," answered bob with a smile. "how long have you owned the boat?" "about two years. i've been usin' her as a ferry-boat between transfer city and romeo, and i've made a pretty fair livin' at it." bob was familiar with the names of these towns, though he had never been so far up the creek. "i'm afraid you'll have trouble in getting the boat back," he said. "it will make quite an interruption in your business." "i don't know as i keer so much about that," said ichabod slocum, thoughtfully. "i've been thinkin' for some time about packin' up and goin' farther west. i've got a cousin in oregon, and i reckon i might like to go out there for a year or two." "then, perhaps you might like to dispose of the boat, mr. slocum," said bob, eagerly. "well, i might," said ichabod slocum, cautiously. "do you know of anybody around here that wants a boat?" "i might like it myself," was bob's reply. "what on airth does a boy like you want of a ferry-boat?" asked slocum, in surprise. "i have a plan in my head," said bob; "and think it would be useful to me." "there ain't no call for a ferry-boat here," said ichabod. "no; you are right there. i may as well tell you what i am thinking of. our crop of grain is ready to harvest, and i should like to load it on this boat and carry it down to st. louis and sell it there myself." chapter xv. bob buys the ferry-boat. "good!" said mr. slocum. "i like your pluck. well, there's the boat. you can have it if you want it--for a fair price, of course." "what do you call a fair price?" asked bob. "i don't mind sayin' that i bought it second-hand myself, and i've got good value out of it. i might sell it for--a hundred and twenty-five dollars." bob shook his head. "that may be cheap," he answered; "but i can't afford to pay so much money." "you can sell it at st. louis when you're through usin' it." "i should have to take my risk of it." "you seem to be pretty good on a trade, for a boy. i reckon you'll sell it." "do you want all the money down. mr. slocum?" "well, i might wait for half of it, ef i think it's safe. what's your security?" "we--that is, mother and i--own the ranch bordering on the other side of the creek. the wheat crop we are harvesting will probably amount to fourteen hundred bushels. i understand it is selling for two dollars a bushel or thereabouts." (this was soon after the war, when high prices prevailed for nearly all articles, including farm products.) "i reckon you're safe, then," said mr. slocum. "now we'll see if we can agree upon a price." i will not follow bob and mr. slocum in the bargaining that succeeded. the latter was the sharper of the two, but bob felt obliged to reduce the price as much as possible, in view of the heavy mortgage upon the ranch. "i shall never breathe easy till that mortgage is paid, mother," he said. "mr. wolverton is about the last man i like to owe. his attempt to collect the interest twice shows that he is unscrupulous. besides, he has a grudge against me, and it would give him pleasure, i feel sure, to injure me." "i am afraid you are right, robert," answered his mother. "we must do our best, and heaven will help us." finally mr. slocum agreed to accept seventy-five dollars cash down, or eighty dollars, half in cash, and the remainder payable after bob's river trip was over and the crop disposed of. "i wouldn't make such terms to any one else," said the boat-owner, "but i've been a boy myself, and i had a hard row to hoe, you bet. you seem like a smart lad, and i'm favorin' you all i can." "thank you, mr. slocum. i consider your price very fair, and you may depend upon my carrying out my agreement. now, if you will come up to the house, i will offer you some dinner, and pay you the money." [illustration: bob buys the ferry-boat.] ichabod slocum readily accepted the invitation, and the three went up to the house together. when bob told his mother of the bargain he had made, she was somewhat startled. she felt that he did not realize how great an enterprise he had embarked in. "you forget, robert, that you are only a boy," she said. "no, mother, i don't forget it. but i have to take a man's part, now that father is dead." "st. louis is a long distance away, and you have no experience in business." "on the other hand, mother, if we sell here, we must make a great sacrifice--twenty-five cents a bushel at least, and that on fourteen hundred bushels would amount to three hundred and fifty dollars. now clip and i can navigate the boat to st. louis and return for less than quarter of that sum." "the boy speaks sense, ma'am," said ichabod slocum. "he's only a kid, but he's a smart one. he's good at a bargain, too. he made me take fifty dollars less for the boat than i meant to. you can trust him better than a good many men." "i am glad you have so favorable an opinion of robert, mr. slocum," said mrs. burton. "i suppose i must yield to his desire." "then i may go, mother?" "yes, robert; you have my consent." "then the next thing is to pay mr. slocum for his boat." this matter was speedily arranged. "i wish, mr. slocum," said bob, "that you were going to st. louis. i would be very glad to give you free passage." "thank you, lad, but i must turn my steps in a different direction." "shall i have any difficulty in managing the boat on our course down the river?" "no, you will drift with the current. it is easy enough to go down stream. the trouble is to get back. but for that, i wouldn't have sold you the boat. at night you tie up anywhere it is convenient, and start again the next morning." "that seems easy enough. do you know how far it is to st. louis, mr. slocum?" "there you have me, lad. i ain't much on reckonin' distances." "i have heard your father say, robert, that it is about three hundred miles from here to the city. i don't like to have you go so far from me." "i've got clip to take care of me, mother," said bob, humorously. "i'll take care of massa bob, missis," said clip, earnestly. "i suppose i ought to feel satisfied with that assurance," said mrs. burton, smiling, "but i have never been accustomed to think of clip as a guardian." "i'll guardian, him, missis," promised clip, amid general laughter. after dinner, in company with mr. slocum, bob and clip went on board the ferry-boat, and made a thorough examination of the craft, with special reference to the use for which it was intended. "you expect to harvest fourteen hundred bushels?" inquired mr. slocum. "yes; somewhere about that amount." "then you may need to make two or three extra bins." "that will be a simple matter," said bob. "the roof over the boat will keep the wheat dry and in good condition. when you get to the city you can sell it all to one party, and superintend the removal yourself. you can hire all the help you need there." bob was more and more pleased with his purchase. "it is just what i wanted," he said, enthusiastically. "the expenses will be almost nothing. we can take a supply of provisions with us, enough to keep us during the trip, and when the business is concluded we can return on some river steamer. we'll have a fine time, clip." "golly! massa bob, dat's so." "you will need to tie the boat," continued ichabod slocum, "or it may float off during the night, and that would upset all your plans. have you a stout rope on the place?" "i think not. i shall have to buy one at the store, or else cross the river." "then you had better attend to that at once. the boat may become dislodged at any moment." after mr. slocum's departure, bob lost no time in attending to this important matter. he procured a heavy rope, of sufficient strength, and proceeded to secure the boat to a tree on the bank. "how soon will we start, massa bob?" asked clip, who was anxious for the excursion to commence. he looked upon it somewhat in the light of an extended picnic, and it may be added that bob also, apart from any consideration of business, anticipated considerable enjoyment from the trip down the river. "don't tell anybody what we are going to do with the boat, clip," said bob. "it will be a fortnight before we start, and i don't care to have much said about the matter beforehand." clip promised implicit obedience, but it was not altogether certain that he would be able to keep strictly to his word, for keeping a secret was not an easy thing for him to do. of course it leaked out that bob had bought a ferry-boat. among others mr. wolverton heard it, but he did not dream of the use to which bob intended to put it. he spoke of it as a boy's folly, and instanced it as an illustration of the boy's unfitness for the charge of the ranch. it was generally supposed that bob had bought it on speculation, hoping to make a good profit on the sale, and bob suffered this idea to remain uncontradicted. meanwhile he pushed forward as rapidly as possible the harvest of the wheat, being anxious to get it to market. when this work was nearly finished mr. wolverton thought it time to make a proposal to mrs. burton, which, if accepted, would bring him a handsome profit. chapter xvi. wolverton's baffled scheme. mrs. burton was somewhat surprised, one evening, when told that mr. wolverton was at the door, and desired to speak with her. since the time his demand for a second payment of the interest had been met by a production of the receipt, he had kept away from the ranch. it might have been the mortification arising from baffled villainy, or, again, from the knowledge that no advantage could be gained from another interview. at all events, he remained away till the wheat was nearly harvested. then he called, because he had a purpose to serve. "tell mrs. burton that i wish to see her on business," he said to the servant who answered his knock. "you can show mr. wolverton in," said the widow. directly the guest was ushered into her presence. "i needn't ask if i see you well, mrs. burton," he said, suavely. "your appearance is a sufficient answer." "thank you," answered mrs. burton, coldly. aaron wolverton noticed the coldness, but did not abate any of his suavity. he only said to himself: "the time will come when you will feel forced to give me a better reception, my lady!" "i have called on a little business," he resumed. "is it about the interest?" asked the widow. "no; for the present i waive that. i have been made the victim of a base theft, and it may cost me a hundred and fifty dollars: but i will not speak of that now." "what other business can you have with me?" "i have come to make you an offer." "what!" exclaimed mrs. burton, indignantly. aaron wolverton chuckled, thereby showing a row of defective and discolored teeth. "you misunderstand me," he said. "i come to make you an offer for your wheat crop, which i suppose is nearly all gathered in." "yes," answered the widow relieved. "robert tells me that it will be all harvested within three days." "just so. now, i am willing to save you a great deal of trouble by buying the entire crop at a fair valuation." "in that case, mr. wolverton, you will allow me to send for robert. he attends to the business of the ranch, and understands much more about it than i do." "wait a minute, mrs. burton. robert is no doubt a smart boy, but you give him too much credit." "i don't think i do. he has shown, since his father's death, a judgment not often found in a boy of his age." "she is infatuated about that boy!" thought wolverton. "however, as i have a point to carry, i won't dispute with her." "you may be right," he said, "but in this matter i venture to think that you and i can make a bargain without any outside help." "you can, at any rate, state your proposition, mr. wolverton." "have you any idea as to the amount of your wheat crop?" "robert tells me there will be not far from fourteen hundred bushels." wolverton's eyes showed his pleasure. if he made the bargain proposed, this would bring him an excellent profit. "very good!" he said. "it will be a great help to you." "yes; i feel that we are fortunate, especially when i consider that the ranch has been carried on by a boy of sixteen." "well, mrs. burton, i am a man of few words. i will give you a dollar and a half a bushel for your wheat, and this will give you, on the basis of fourteen hundred bushels, twenty-one hundred dollars. you are a very fortunate woman." "but, mr. wolverton, robert tells me he expects to get at least two dollars a bushel." it must be remembered that grain was then selling at "war prices." "i don't know what the boy can be thinking of," said wolverton, contemptuously. "two dollars a bushel! why don't he say five dollars at once?" "he gained his information from a st. louis paper." "my dear madam, the price here and the price in st. louis are two entirely different matters. you must be aware that it will cost a good deal to transport the wheat to st. louis." "surely it cannot cost fifty cents a bushel?" "no; but it is a great mistake to suppose that you can get two dollars a bushel in st. louis." "i must leave the matter to robert to decide." "excuse my saying that this is very foolish. the boy has not a man's judgment." "nevertheless, i must consult him before deciding." mrs. barton spoke so plainly that wolverton said, sullenly: "do as you please, mrs. burton, but i would like to settle the matter to-night." robert was sent for, and, being near the house, entered without delay. mr. wolverton's proposition was made known to him. "mr. wolverton," said bob, regarding that gentleman with a dislike he did not attempt to conceal, "you would make a very good bargain if we accepted your proposal." "not much," answered wolverton, hastily. "of course i should make a little something, but i am chiefly influenced in making the offer, by a desire to save your mother trouble." "you would make seven hundred dollars at least, out of which you would only have to pay for transportation to st. louis." "that is a very ridiculous statement!" said wolverton, sharply. "why so? the wheat will fetch two dollars a bushel in the market." "some one has been deceiving you." "shall i show you the paper in which i saw the quotations?" "no; it is erroneous. besides, the expense of carrying the grain to market will be very large." "it won't be fifty cents a bushel." "young man, you are advising your mother against her best interests. young people are apt to be headstrong. i should not expect to make much money out of the operation." "why, then, do you make the offer?" "i have already told you that i wished to save your mother trouble." "we are much obliged to you, but we decline your proposal." "then," said wolverton, spitefully, "i shall have to hold you to the terms of the mortgage. i had intended to favor you, but after the tone you have taken with me, i shall not do so." "to what terms do you refer, mr. wolverton?" asked the widow. "i will tell you. i have the right at the end of six months to call for a payment of half the mortgage--fifteen hundred dollars. that will make, in addition to the interest then due, sixteen hundred and fifty dollars." "can this be true?" asked mrs. burton, in dismay, turning to robert. "it is so specified in the mortgage," answered wolverton, triumphantly. "you can examine it for yourself. i have only to say, that, had you accepted my offer, i would have been content with, say, one quarter of the sum, knowing that it would be inconvenient for you to pay half." bob, as well as his mother, was taken by surprise, but in no way disposed to yield. "we should be no better off," he said. "we should lose at least five hundred dollars by accepting your offer, and that we cannot afford to do." "you refuse, then," said wolverton, angrily. "yes." "then all i have to say is that you will rue this day," and the agent got up hastily, but upon second thought sat down again. "how do you expect to get your grain to market?" he asked. "i shall take it myself." "what do you mean?" "i shall store it on a boat i have purchased, and clip and i will take it to st. louis." "you must be crack-brained!" ejaculated wolverton. "i never heard of a more insane project." "i hope to disappoint you, mr. wolverton. at any rate, my mind is made up." wolverton shuffled out of the room, in impotent rage. "we have made him our enemy, robert," said his mother, apprehensively. "he was our enemy before, mother. he evidently wants to ruin us." as wolverton went home, one thought was uppermost in his mind. "how could he prevent bob from making the trip to st. louis?" chapter xvii. wolverton's poor tenant. bob hired a couple of extra hands, and made haste to finish harvesting his wheat, for he was anxious to start on the trip down the river as soon as possible. his anticipations as to the size of the crop were justified. it footed up fourteen hundred and seventy-five bushels, and this, at two dollars per bushel, would fetch in market nearly three thousand dollars. "that's a pretty good crop for a boy to raise, mother," said bob, with pardonable exultation. "you haven't lost anything by allowing me to run the ranch." "quite true, robert. you have accomplished wonders. i don't know what i could have done without you. i know very little of farming myself." "i helped him, missis," said clip, coveting a share of approval for himself. "yes," said bob, smiling. "clip has been my right-hand man. i can't say he has worked very hard himself, but he has superintended the others." "yes, missis; dat's what i done!" said clip, proudly. he did not venture to pronounce the word, for it was too much for him, but he was vaguely conscious that it was something important and complimentary. "then i must buy clip a new suit," said mrs. burton, smiling. "i'll buy it in st. louis, mother." when the grain was all gathered in bob began to load it on the ferry-boat. wolverton sent sam round every day to report progress, but did not excite his nephew's suspicions by appearing to take unusual interest in the matter. to prepare the reader for a circumstance which happened about this time, i find it necessary to introduce another character, who was able to do bob an important service. in a small house, about three-quarters of a mile beyond the burton ranch, lived dan woods, a poor man, with, a large family. he hired the house which he occupied and a few acres of land from aaron wolverton, who had obtained possession of it by foreclosing a mortgage which he held. he permitted woods, the former owner, to remain as a tenant in the house which once belonged to him, charging him rather more than an average rent. the poor man raised vegetables and a small crop of wheat, enough of each for his own family, and hired out to neighbors for the balance of his time. he obtained more employment on the burton ranch than anywhere else, and mrs. burton had also sympathized with him in his difficult struggle to maintain his family. but, in spite of friends and his own untiring industry, dan woods fell behind. there were five children to support, and they required not only food but clothing, and dan found it uphill work. his monthly rent was ten dollars; a small sum in itself, but large for this much-burdened man to pay. but, however poorly he might fare in other respects, dan knew that it was important to have this sum ready on the first day of every month. wolverton was a hard landlord, and admitted of no excuse. more than once after the rent had been paid there was not a dollar left in his purse, or a pinch of food in his house. a week before this time dan was looking for his landlord's call with unusual anxiety. he had been sick nearly a week during the previous month, and this had so curtailed his earnings that he had but six dollars ready in place of ten. would his sickness be accepted as an excuse? he feared not. wolverton's call was made on time. he had some expectation that the rent would not be ready, for he knew dan had been sick; but he was resolved to show him no consideration. "his sickness is nothing to me," he reflected. "it would be a pretty state of affairs if landlords allowed themselves to be cheated out of their rent for such a cause." dan woods was at work in the yard when wolverton approached. he was splitting some wood for use in the kitchen stove. his heart sank within him when he saw the keen, sharp features of his landlord. "good morning, dan," said wolverton, with suavity. his expression was amiable, as it generally was when he was collecting money, but it suffered a remarkable change if the money was not forthcoming. "good-morning, sir," answered woods, with a troubled look. "you've got a nice, snug place here, dan; it's a fine home for your family." "i don't complain of it, sir. as i once owned it myself, probably i set more store by it than a stranger would." "just so, dan. you get it at a very low rent, too. if it were any one but yourself i should really feel that i ought to raise the rent to twenty dollars." "i hope you won't do that, sir," said woods, in alarm. "it's all i can do to raise ten dollars a month, with all my other expenses." "oh, well, i'll let it remain at the present figure _as long as you pay me promptly_," emphasizing the last words. "of course i have a right to expect that." dan's heart sank within him. it was clear he could not expect any consideration from such a man. but the truth must be told. "no doubt you are right, mr. wolverton, and you've found me pretty prompt so far." "so i have, dan. i know you wouldn't be dishonest enough to make me wait." dan's heart sank still lower. it was becoming harder every minute to own that he was deficient. "still, mr. wolverton, bad luck will come----" "what!" exclaimed wolverton, with a forbidding scowl. "as i was saying, sir, a man is sometimes unlucky. now, i have been sick nearly a week out of the last month, as you may have heard, and it's put me back." "what are you driving at, dan woods?" demanded wolverton, severely. "i hope you're not going to say that you are not ready to pay your rent?" "i haven't got the whole of it, sir; and that's a fact." "you haven't got the whole of it? how much have you got?" "i can pay you six dollars, mr. wolverton." "six dollars out of ten! why, this is positively shameful! i wonder you are not ashamed to tell me." "there is no shame about it that i can see," answered dan, plucking up his spirit. "i didn't fall sick on purpose; and when i was sick i couldn't work." "you ought to have one month's rent laid by, so that whatever happens you could pay it on time." "that's easy to say, mr. wolverton, but it takes every cent of my earnings to pay my monthly expenses. there's little chance to save." "any one can save who chooses," retorted wolverton, sharply. "shall i get you the six dollars, sir?" "yes, give it to me." "and you will wait for the other four?" "till to-morrow night." "but how can i get it by to-morrow night?" asked dan in dismay. "that's your lookout, not mine. all i have to say is, unless it is paid to me to-morrow night you must move the next day." with these words wolverton went off. dan woods, in his trouble, went to bob burton the next day, and bob readily lent him the money he needed. "thank you!" said dan, gratefully; "i won't forget this favor." "don't make too much of it, dan; it's a trifle." "it's no trifle to me. but for you my family would be turned out of house and home to-morrow. the time may come when i can do you a service." "thank you, dan." the time came sooner than either anticipated. chapter xviii. wolverton's wicked plan. wolverton was somewhat puzzled when on his next call dan woods paid the balance due on his rent. "so you raised the money after all?" he said. "i thought you could if you made an effort." "i borrowed the money, sir." "of whom?" "it isn't any secret, mr. wolverton. i borrowed it of a neighbor who has always been kind to me--bob burton." wolverton shrugged his shoulders. "i didn't know he had money to lend," he said. "he always has money for a poor man who needs it." "all right! i shall know where to go when i need money," responded wolverton, with a grin. "it suits me well enough to have the boy throw away his money," wolverton said to himself. "it will only draw nearer the time when he will have to sue me for a favor." that day wolverton read in a st. louis paper that wheat was steadily rising, and had already reached two dollars and six cents per bushel. "i could make a fine thing of it if i had only received the barton wheat at a dollar and a half a bushel," he reflected, regretfully. "if i had only the widow to deal with, i might have succeeded, for she knows nothing of business. but that confounded boy is always putting a spoke in my wheel. if he carries out his plan, and markets the wheat, it will set him on his feet for the year to come." this reflection made wolverton feel gloomy. there are some men who are cheered by the prosperity of their neighbors, but he was not one of them. he began to speculate as to whether there was any way of interfering with bob's schemes. generally when a man is seeking a way of injuring his neighbor he succeeds in finding one. this was the plan that suggested itself to wolverton: if he could set the ferry-boat adrift when the grain was all stored it would float down stream, and the chances were against its being recovered. it would be mean, and even criminal, to be sure. for the first, wolverton did not care; for the second, he would take care that no one caught him at it. he did not think of employing any one else in the matter, for he knew of no one he could trust; and he felt that he could do it more effectually than any agent, however trustworthy. wolverton was so full of the plan, which commended itself to him as both simple and effective, that he took a walk late in the evening from his house to the point on the creek where the boat was tethered. now, it so happened that dan woods, who had been employed all day, had occasion to go to the village in the evening to procure a few groceries from the village store. he delayed for a time, having met an old acquaintance, and it was half-past nine when he set out on his return homeward. his way led him not only by the burton homestead, but by the river bend where bob kept his rowboat--the same point also where the ferry-boat was tied. as he approached, he caught sight of a man's figure standing on the bank. who it was he could not immediately distinguish on account of the darkness. "it may be some one bent on mischief," he thought to himself. "i will watch him and find out, if i can, who it is." he kept on his way stealthily till he was within a dozen feet, when he slipped behind a tree. then it dawned upon him who it was. "it's aaron wolverton, as i'm a living man," he ejaculated, inwardly. "what can he be doing here?" it was wolverton, as we know. the old man stood in silence on the bank, peering through the darkness at the shadowy form of the ferry-boat, which already contained half the wheat crop of burton's ranch--the loading having commenced that morning. he had one habit which is unfortunate with a conspirator--the habit of thinking aloud--so he let out his secret to the watchful listener. "sam tells me they expected to get half the crop on board to-day," he soliloquized. "i sent him over to get that very information, though he don't know it. it is too early to do anything yet. to-morrow night the whole cargo will be stored, and then it will be time to cut the rope and let it drift. i should be glad to see the boy's face," he chuckled, "when he comes down to the creek the next morning and finds the boat gone. that will put him at my mercy, and the widow, too," he added, after a pause. "he will repent too late that he thwarted me. i will work in secret, but i get there all the same!" wolverton clasped his hands behind his back and, turning, walked thoughtfully away. he did not see his tenant, who was crouching behind a tree not over three feet from the path. dan woods had no very favorable opinion of wolverton, but what he had heard surprised and shocked him. "i didn't think the old man was as wicked as that!" he said to himself. "he is scheming to ruin bob and his mother. why should he have such a spite against them?" this is a question which we can answer, but woods became more puzzled the more he thought about it. one thing was clear, however; he must apprise bob of the peril in which he stood. even if he had not received the last favor from our hero, he would have felt in duty bound to do his best to defeat wolverton's wicked plan. the next morning, therefore, he made an early call at burton's ranch, and asked for a private interview with bob. he quickly revealed to him the secret of which he had become possessed. "thank you, dan," said bob, warmly. "you have done me a favor of the greatest importance. i knew wolverton was my enemy, and the enemy of our family, but i did not think he would be guilty of such a mean and wicked action. if he had succeeded, i am afraid we should have lost the farm." "you won't let him succeed?" said dan woods, anxiously. "no; forewarned is forearmed. i shall be ready for mr. wolverton!" and bob closed his lips resolutely. he deliberated whether he should let his mother know of the threatened danger, but finally decided not to do so. it would only worry her, and do no good, as whatever measures of precaution were to be taken, he must take. he did not even tell clip; for though the young colored boy was devoted to him, he was lacking in discretion, and might let out the secret. bob did not want to prevent the attempt being made. he wished to catch wolverton in the act. he did, however, take into his confidence a faithful man who had worked for his father ever since the ranch was taken, thinking it prudent to have assistance near if needed. that day the rest of the wheat was stored on the ferry-boat. all would be ready for a start the next morning, and this bob had decided to make. he sent clip to bed early, on the pretext that he must have a good night's sleep, as he would be called early. if clip had had the least idea of what was in the wind he would have insisted on sitting up to see the fun, but he was absolutely ignorant of it. wolverton had learned from sam, who was surprised that his uncle should let him spend almost all his time with his friends, bob and clip, that the cargo had been stored. "when do they start?" he asked, carelessly. "to-morrow morning, uncle," sam answered. "if i had thought of it," said wolverton, "i would have asked young burton to take my wheat along, too." "i don't think he would have room for it, uncle aaron. the boat is about full now." "oh, well; i shall find some other way of sending it," said wolverton, carelessly. about nine o'clock wolverton stole out in the darkness, and made his way stealthily to the bend in the creek. he had with him a sharp razor--he had no knife sharp enough--which he judged would sever the thick rope. arrived at the place of his destination, he bent over and drew out the razor, which he opened and commenced operations. but there was an unlooked-for interference. a light, boyish figure sprang from behind a tree, and bob barton, laying his hand on wolverton's shoulder, demanded, indignantly: "what are you doing here, mr. wolverton?" wolverton started, dropped the razor in the river, and, with an expression of alarm, looked up into bob's face. chapter xix. mr. wolverton meets two congenial spirits. "what are you doing here, mr. wolverton?" repeated bob, sternly. "oh, it's you, bob, is it?" said wolverton, with assumed lightness. "really, you quite startled me, coming upon me so suddenly in the dark." "i noticed that you were startled," responded bob, coolly. "but that isn't answering my question." by this time wolverton was on his feet, and had recovered his self-possession. "what right have you to put questions to me, you young whelp?" he demanded, angrily. "because i suspect you of designs on my property." "what do you mean?" snarled wolverton. "i will tell you; i think you meant to cut the rope, and send my boat adrift." "how dare you insult me by such a charge?" demanded the agent, working himself into a rage. "i have reason to think that you meant to do what i have said." "why should i do it?" "in order to injure me by the loss of my wheat." "you are a fool, young man! i am inclined to think, also, that you are out of your head." "if you had any other purpose, what is it?" wolverton bethought himself that in order to avert suspicion, he must assign some reason for his presence. to do this taxed his ingenuity considerably. "i thought i saw something in the water," he said. "there it is; a twig; i see now." "and what were you going to do with the razor?" "none of your business!" said wolverton, suddenly, finding it impossible, on the spur of the moment, to think of any reason. "that is easy to understand," said bob, significantly. "now, mr. wolverton, i have a warning to give you. if anything befalls my boat, i shall hold you responsible." "do you know who i am?" blustered wolverton. "how do you, a boy, dare to talk in this impudent way to a man who has you in his power?" "it strikes me, mr. wolverton, that i hold you in my power." "who would believe your unsupported assertion? sneered the agent." "it is not unsupported. i brought with me edward jones, my faithful assistant, who has seen your attempt to injure me." at this, edward, a stalwart young man of twenty-four, stepped into view. "i saw it all," he said, briefly. "you are ready to lie, and he to swear to it," said wolverton, but his voice was not firm, for he saw that the testimony against him was too strong to be easily shaken. "i don't wonder you deny it, mr. wolverton," said bob. "i won't remain here any longer to be insulted," said wolverton, who was anxious to get away, now that his plan had failed. bob did not reply, and the agent slunk away, feeling far from comfortable. "what cursed luck sent the boy to the creek to-night?" he said to himself. "i was on the point of succeeding, and then i would have had him in my power. could he have heard anything?" wolverton decided, however, that this was not likely. he attributed bob's presence to chance, though his words seemed to indicate that he suspected something. he was obliged to acknowledge his defeat. yet it would be possible for him to return in an hour or two, and carry out his evil plan. but it would be too hazardous. the crime would inevitably be traced to him, and he would be liable to arrest. no, hard though it was to bring his mind to it, he must forego his scheme, and devise something else. when the agent had left the scene, bob burton said: "edward, you may go home. i mean to stay here on guard." "but you will not be in condition to start to-morrow morning. you will be tired out." "i can't take any risks this last evening, edward." "then let me take your place. i will stay here." "but it will be hard on you." "i will lie later to-morrow morning. you can relieve me, if you like, at four o'clock." "let it be so, then! too much is at stake for us to leave anything to chance. i don't think, however, that wolverton would dare to renew his attempt." meanwhile wolverton retraced his steps to his own house. there was one lonely place on the way, but the agent was too much absorbed in his own reflections to have room for fear. his occupation of mind was rudely disturbed, when from a clump of bushes two men sprang out, and one, seizing him by the shoulder, said, roughly: "your money or your life!" wolverton was not a brave man, and it must be confessed that he was startled by this sudden summons. but he wasn't in the habit of carrying money with him in the evening, and an old silver watch, which would have been dear at four dollars, was not an article whose loss would have seriously disturbed him. so it was with a tolerable degree of composure that he answered: "you have stopped the wrong man." "we know who you are. you are aaron wolverton, and you are a rich man." "that may and may not be, but i don't carry my money with me." "empty your pockets!" wolverton complied, but neither purse nor pocket book was forthcoming. "didn't i tell you so?" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "we won't take your word for it." the first highwayman plunged his hand into the agent's pockets, but his search only corroborated wolverton's statement. "you, a rich man, go without money!" he exclaimed with rough contempt. "perhaps i might have expected such a meeting," wolverton replied, with cunning triumph. "you must have a watch, at any rate!" "i have one that i will sell you for four dollars." as he spoke, he voluntarily produced the timeworn watch, which had served him for twenty years. the thieves uttered an exclamation of contempt. their disappointment made them angry. they hurriedly conferred as to the policy of keeping wolverton in their power till he should pay a heavy ransom, but there were obvious difficulties in the way of carrying out this plan. aaron wolverton listened quietly to the discussion which concerned him so nearly. he smiled at times, and did not appear particularly alarmed till one, more bloodthirsty than the other, suggested stringing him up to the nearest tree. "my friends," he said, for the first time betraying a slight nervousness. "i can't see what advantage it would be for you to hang me." "you deserve it for fooling us!" replied the second highwayman, with an oath. "in what way?" "by not carrying any money, or article of value." "i grieve for your disappointment," said wolverton, with much sympathy. "if you mock us, you shall swing, any way." "don't mistake me! i have no doubt you are very worthy fellows, only a little unfortunate. what sum would have paid you for your disappointment?" "fifty dollars would have been better than nothing." "that is considerable money, but i may be able to throw it in your way." "now you're talking! if you are on the square, you'll find us gentlemen. we are ready to hear what you have to say." "good! but i expect you to earn the money." "how?" inquired the first gentleman, suspiciously. the word earn might mean work, and that was not in his line. "i'll tell you." there was an amiable conference for twenty minutes, but this is not the place to reveal what was said. enough that it nearly concerned bob burton, and involved a new plot against the success of his enterprise. chapter xx. an unexpected passenger. the next morning the boys were up bright and early. it was a glorious morning, and bob accepted it as auspicious of a pleasant and prosperous trip. clip was in wild spirits. he was naturally vivacious and fond of change, and the prospect of the river trip made him very happy. bob, as a practical joke, put on a grave face and said: "clip, i don't know but i shall have to leave you at home." "what fo', massa bob?" inquired clip, his face assuming a look of dismay. "i am afraid my mother won't be able to get along without you. there are so many things to attend to on the ranch." "i can't do no good on the ranch," said clip, eagerly. "i'm only a lazy, good-for-nothing nigger." "then i don't see how you can help me, clip," returned bob, his eyes twinkling as he listened to this candid confession. "dat's different, massa bob. i ain't no good on the ranch, but i'm powerful help on the river. please take me along, massa bob," pleaded clip. "just as likely as not you'll get lost, clip. besides, you might meet your old master from arkansas." "he won't catch dis nigger," said clip, shaking his head, resolutely. "please let me go, massa bob." "your arguments are so cogent, clip, that i suppose i shall have to give in." instantly clip's face was radiant. he didn't know what cogent arguments were, but as long as they had accomplished his desire he was content to remain in ignorance. "but if you give me any trouble, clip," bob added, seriously, "i may have to put you ashore, and let you walk home." clip gave the most emphatic assurance of good conduct, and was informed that he could go. there was much to do, even on the last morning, and though the boys were early risers, it was fully ten o'clock before they were ready to start. half an hour before this bob had a surprise. sam wolverton was seen approaching on a run, breathless and without a hat. he arrived at the landing, just as bob was putting off in the flat-bottomed boat, with a load of provisions for the voyage. "what on earth is the matter, sam?" asked bob, in surprise. "let me get on the boat and i will tell you." the boat was put back and sam jumped on. "now what has happened, sam?" "do you see this," said sam, pointing to his right cheek, which was stained with blood. "what has happened to you? did you fall and hurt yourself?" "my uncle knocked me over and i fell against a block of wood." "what made him attack you?" inquired bob, indignantly. "i don't know; he got mad with me for nothing at all. he's been in an awful temper all the morning. something must have happened to vex him." bob smiled. he could understand what had happened. wolverton's disappointment at the failure of his villainous plan had no doubt soured him, and, like a born bully, he had vented his spite upon the poor boy who was dependent upon him. "i wish you'd more spunk, sam," bob said. "he wouldn't dare to attack me in that way." "you're stronger and braver than i am, bob. i can't be like you. i wish i could." "your uncle is no more nor less than a bully. he imposes upon you because he thinks it is safe to do so. he wouldn't dare tackle me, because he knows it wouldn't be safe." "bob," said sam, solemnly, "i've borne it as long as i'm going to. i am not going back to my uncle's house." "do you mean this, sam?" "yes, i do. it's the only home i have, but i would rather go without a home than to be beaten and ill-treated by uncle aaron." "i commend your pluck, sam. i can't say i think you are doing wrong." "i have a favor to ask of you, bob. you are my only friend." "what is it, sam?" "let me go with you to st. louis. it would make me happy to be with you, and i should be out of my uncle's way." bob paused for consideration, the proposal being unexpected. "but suppose, sam, i am charged with abducting you?" "i'll take all the blame. let me hide on the ferry-boat, and i won't show myself until you've got miles away." "that might do," said bob, smiling. "perhaps it isn't exactly square, but with such a man as your uncle we must make use of his own methods." "you will take me, then?" asked sam, eagerly. by this time they had reached the boat. "clip," said bob, "go with sam and hide him somewhere on the boat, but don't tell me where he is concealed. then, if old wolverton comes after him i can say truly that i don't know where he is." "all right, massa bob," said clip, showing his teeth. when the contents of the boat had been transferred to the larger craft, bob rowed back, leaving clip and sam together. the boat was roofed over, as already stated. besides the bins there was a corner in which some bedding had been placed for the accommodation of the young voyagers. but it seemed difficult to find a suitable hiding-place for sam. "where can you put me?" asked the young runaway, with a troubled look. clip looked about him, rolling his eyes in perplexity. at length his face brightened, for an idea had come to him. in one corner was an empty barrel. some stores had been brought aboard in it, and it had been suffered to remain, with the idea that it might possibly prove of use. the particular use to which it was to be put certainly never occurred to bob or clip. "get in there, sam!" said clip. "old mass' wolverton won't look for you in there." "but i shall be seen." "you wait and i'll show you how we'll manage; only get in!" thus adjured, sam got into the barrel, and with some difficulty crouched so that his head was lower than the top of the barrel. "now i'll show you," said clip. he took a white cloth--it was apiece of sail-cloth--and spread over the top of the barrel. "now old mass' wolverton will have sharp eyes to see you," said clip, triumphantly. "that may do," said sam. "but it isn't necessary to put it on now. it will be time if my uncle makes his appearance. i'll keep out of sight in the center of the boat." meanwhile bob had gone to the house to bid good-bye to his mother. "i feel anxious about your going off on such a long trip, robert," said mrs. burton. "you forget that i am almost a man, mother. it is time for me to assume some responsibility." "but you are only a boy, after all, robert. think, if anything should happen to you, what would become of me?" "my dear mother, you may depend on my taking excellent care of myself. i don't see what risk or danger there can be in going to st. louis. it isn't a long trip. i shall be back in less than a fortnight if all goes well." "it will seem a very long fortnight to me, robert." "i have no doubt you will miss me, mother, but you forget i have clip to look after me." "clip is only a poor colored boy, but i am sure he will prove faithful to you," said mrs. burton, seriously. "even the humble are sometimes of great service. i am glad he is going with you." bob did not mention that sam wolverton would also be his companion, as he foresaw that the agent would not unlikely question his mother on that point. bob returned to the boat, and was just about to cast off, when wolverton was seen on the bank, waving his hat and shouting frantically. "i guess, massa sam, you'd better get into the barrel," said clip with a grin. chapter xxi. how wolverton was fooled. "what do you want, mr. wolverton?" asked bob, coolly, as he stood at one end of the boat and surveyed the excited agent. "come ashore, or i'll have you arrested," shouted the irate wolverton. "you are very kind, mr. wolverton; but i am in considerable of a hurry, and have not time to comply with your request." "you'd better come ashore, if you know what's best for yourself." "please state your business! if it is anything to my advantage, i may come; but i am just ready to start for st. louis." "is my nephew sam on your boat?" "i don't see him. why should he be on board?" "i suspect him of running away, the ungrateful young rascal? i thought he might be scheming to go down the river with you." "clip," said bob, gravely, "has sam wolverton engaged passage with us?" "not as i knows on, massa bob." "if he should, charge him fifteen dollars." "yes, massa bob," answered clip, with a grin. "if you wish your nephew to go to st. louis on my boat, mr. wolverton," said bob, with ceremonious politeness, "i will take him, being a friend, for fifteen dollars, excursion ticket. you can't complain of that." "but i don't want him to go," roared wolverton. "i tell you he has run away." "that's very strange, considering how kindly and liberally you have always treated him." wolverton eyed bob suspiciously, for he knew well enough that the remark was ironical. "none of your gammon, young man!" he said, crabbedly. "send sam ashore." "really, mr. wolverton, you must be joking. what have i got to do with sam?" "i don't believe a word you say. i mean to search your boat." "you had better do it at once, then, for it is time for me to start." "but how am i to get aboard," asked the agent, perplexed. "you might swim," suggested bob, "or wade. the water is shallow--not higher than your neck, anywhere." "that is nonsense. steer your boat to shore, that i may board her." "it can't be done, mr. wolverton. we can only drift down with the current." "then how am i to get aboard?" "that is your lookout." just then mr. wolverton espied the flat-bottomed boat which bob proposed to take with him. he had attached it by a line to the stern of the ferry-boat. "row over and take me across." "i can't spare the time." wolverton was about to give vent to his wrath at this refusal, when he observed a boat approaching, rowed by a german boy named otto brandes. "come here, boy, and row me out to yonder boat," he said. otto paused in his rowing, and, understanding the man with whom he was dealing, he asked, quietly: "how much will you pay me, mr. wolverton?" "five cents to take me over and back," answered the agent, with some hesitation. otto laughed. "i don't work for any such wages," he said. "i'll give you ten; but be quick about it." "give me a quarter and i'll do it." "do you think i am made of money?" said wolverton, in anger. "that is an outrageous extortion." "all right! then hire somebody else," said otto, coolly. after a fruitless effort to beat down the price, wolverton sulkily agreed to the terms, and otto rowed to the bank. "now, row with all your might," said the agent, as he seated himself in one end of the boat. "your fare, please," said otto. "i'll pay you when the trip is over," said wolverton. "it's a poor paymaster that pays in advance." "then you'd better get out of the boat. railroad and boat tickets are always paid in advance." "i'll give you ten cents now, and the balance when i land." "it won't do, mr. wolverton. i don't care much about the job anyway; i'm in a hurry to get home." otto lived about half a mile further down the creek. much against his will, the agent was obliged to deposit the passage-money in the boy's hand before he would consent to take up the oars and commence rowing. "that rascal sam is putting me to all this expense," he said to himself. "i'll take my pay out of his skin once i get hold of him." clip went up to the barrel in which sam was concealed. "ol' wolverton is comin', massa sam," he said. "don't you make no noise, and we'll fool de ol' man." in spite of this assurance, poor sam trembled in his narrow place of concealment. he knew that he would fare badly if his uncle got hold of him. "how's he coming?" he asked in a stifled voice. "otto brandes is rowin' him. he's in otto's boat." "it's mean of otto!" "no; he don't know what de ol' man is after." it took scarcely two minutes for wolverton to reach the ferry-boat. he mounted it with fire in his eye. "now, where is sam?" he demanded in a peremptory tone. "you can search for him, mr. wolverton," said bob, coolly. "you seem to know more about where he is than i do." wolverton began to peer here and there, looking into bins of wheat and all sorts of improbable places. clip took a broom and began to sweep energetically. bob could not explain this sudden fit of industry till he saw clip slyly slip the broom between wolverton's legs as he was hurrying along, thereby upsetting the unfortunate agent, who tumbled sprawling on the deck. "why, you black imp!" he exclaimed, furiously, as he picked himself up, "what made you do that?" "couldn't help it, massa wolverton! i 'clare to gracious i couldn't!" said clip, rolling his eyes in a most wonderful manner. "are you hurt, massa wolverton?" "i most broke my knee!" growled wolverton, as he rose and limped towards the other end of the boat. "i may be laid up for a week." "it was de ol' broom did it," said clip, innocently. "never see such a broom!" bob had hard work to keep a straight face, as he heard clip's odd accusation against the unoffending broom. this accident seemed to dampen wolverton's enthusiasm, and the pain in his knee increasing made him desirous of getting home as soon as possible. besides, he began to suspect that he was on a wrong scent, as he had thus far found no traces of his runaway nephew. he never once noticed the barrel, over which the piece of sail-cloth had been thrown so carelessly. "well, did you find sam?" asked bob, composedly. "no!" snapped wolverton. "i seed him jest before you came, massa wolverton," said clip. "where?" asked the agent, eagerly. "runnin' along the bank." "in what direction?" clip pointed up the creek. "why didn't you tell me that before?" "you didn't ask me, massa wolverton." "take me ashore quick!" said wolverton to otto. "hurry up, massa wolverton, and mebbe you'll catch him!" wolverton was already in the boat, and otto was rowing him to the shore. clip went to the barrel and released the prisoner. "de ol' man's gone, sam!" he said. "i'm glad of it, clip. i'm almost suffocated." "golly, didn't we fool him!" and clip lay down on his back on deck, and gave way to an explosion of mirth. a minute later the rope was drawn in, and the ferry-boat started on its adventurous career down the creek. chapter xxii. the first day. bob was accustomed to rowing, but navigation with the ferry-boat presented a new and interesting problem which he was eager to solve. a steering apparatus had been rigged up at the stern, which was found strong enough for the purpose required. bob took his place at the helm in starting, and managed for the first hour to regulate the direction of his craft. by that time they came to a place where the creek widened considerably, and the boat showed a disposition to whirl round in an eddy. this difficulty, however, was overcome by practice, and bob began to acquire confidence in himself as a navigator. but it was evident that he could not remain at the helm all day. "come here, clip," he said; "i want you to rest me in steering." clip took his place, but his first attempts proved discouraging. he was inclined to steer in just the reverse direction, and twice came near running the boat ashore. "what are you about, clip?" demanded bob, in excitement. "don't you see you are running the boat ashore?" "i done just like you, massa bob," protested clip. "de boat acts contrary; never see such an ol' boat." "it is you that are contrary, clip. you don't do as i tell you." "i 'clar to gracious i did, massa bob. i can't never learn to steer." in fact, clip, who was naturally lazy, found it very irksome to stand at the helm, and much preferred going here and there on the boat and surveying the scenery on either bank. he hoped that his incompetence would save him from the task. but his dream was rudely disturbed. "if you can't take your turn in steering, clip," said bob, "you won't be of any use to me. i shall have to send you home, and get along with sam's assistance." "oh, don't send me home, massa bob!" exclaimed clip, in alarm. "i'll try--'deed i will." "i'll try you a little longer, clip," said bob; "but you must not blame me for sending you back, if it is necessary." no better argument could have been used to insure satisfactory work from clip, who was naturally careless, and inclined to shirk work. nevertheless, bob felt glad that he had another assistant in sam wolverton, who proved to possess all the qualities which clip lacked. when it was one o'clock, clip began to show signs of distress. "i'm pow'ful hungry, massa bob," he said, in a pleading tone. "so am i, clip," returned bob, with a smile. "i will see if i can't do something to relieve you." he had brought from home a basket of sandwiches and a gallon of milk. to these the boys did ample justice, displaying even more appetite than usual. this was not surprising, for they had worked hard, and this in the open air. "sam," said bob, "i can't hope to supply you with all the delicacies you would get at home, but i hope you'll make it do with our humble fare." sam smiled. "all the delicacies on uncle aaron's table wouldn't spoil anybody's digestion. i like my dinner to-day better than any i've eaten for a long time. i don't know what uncle and aunt would say if they could see me here." "de ol' man would be wild," said clip, with a guffaw. "i expect he would, clip. he isn't fond of me, but he doesn't want to lose me. he will have to do his own chores now, for i don't believe he can get a boy to work for him." about six o'clock in the afternoon, having arrived opposite a town which i will call rushford, bob decided to tie up for the night. he and clip went on shore, leaving sam in charge of the boat. he did not dare to leave it unguarded, for the cargo, according to his estimate, was worth not far from three thousand dollars. he took the opportunity to enter a restaurant, where he bought clip and himself cups of coffee, and ordered a fresh supply of sandwiches made up, which he arranged to have delivered at the boat early the next morning. "i don't mean that we shall starve, clip," he said. clip showed his teeth. "dat coffee's awful good, massa bob," he said. "yes, but we can't make it on board the boat. i shall have to depend on getting it at the villages on the way." "how far are we from home, massa bob?" "well thought of, clip. i will inquire." he asked the keeper of the restaurant the distance to carver. "i don't know, but i think my waiter comes from that neighborhood. sam, how far away is carver?" "forty miles," answered sam promptly. "i thought it had been more. we have been eight hours coming on the river." that is because the river (they had left the creek fifteen miles up) was winding in its course. on the whole, however, bob decided that it was very fair progress for the first day, and that only about two-thirds of the time. rushford was a town of fifteen hundred inhabitants, and presented as busy an appearance as a town three times the size in the east. clip, who was fond of variety, was reluctant to return to the boat, but bob said: "we must relieve sam, and give him a chance to come ashore and get some coffee. you come with him, and show him the restaurant." this arrangement suited clip, who liked as much variety and excitement as possible. on returning to the boat bob was somewhat surprised to find his young lieutenant in conversation with an old lady dressed in antediluvian costume. she had a sharp face, with an eager, birdlike look, and seemed to be preferring a request. "here's the captain; you can ask him," said sam, who seemed much relieved by the return of bob. "is _he_ the captain?" asked the old lady. "why, he's nothin' but a boy!" "he's all the captain we have," answered sam. "be you in charge of this boat?" asked the old lady. "yes, ma'am. what can i do for you?" "i want to go down to st. louis," said the old lady, "and i thought maybe you might find room for me." "but, ma'am, why don't you take passage on a river steamer?" "they charge too much," said the old lady. "i hain't got much money, and i s'pose you wouldn't charge me much. are you any acquainted in st. louis?" "no, ma'am." "i thought maybe you might know my darter's husband. he keeps a grocery store down near the river. his name is jeremiah pratt, and my darter's name is melinda ann. i want to give 'em a surprise." "i never met the gentleman." "when do you start?" "to-morrow morning about half-past seven o'clock." "can't you put it off till eight? i've got to pack my trunk over night, and i've got to eat a bit of breakfast to stay my stummik. how much do you charge? i'd be willing to pay you seventy-five cents." "how much do the steamboats charge?" asked bob. "i think it's six dollars, or it may be seven. that's too much for a poor woman like me." "i think you will have to pay it, madam, for we have no accommodation for passengers on our boat." "oh, i ain't a mite particular. you can put me anywhere." "i suppose you wouldn't be willing to get into a grain bin?" "oh, now you're jokin'. where do you sleep yourself?" "on a mattress on the floor; that wouldn't be suitable for a lady like you. besides, we have no separate rooms." "then you can't take me, no way?" asked the old lady, disappointed. "i am afraid not, madam." "you're real disobligin'. i don't see how i am to get to st. louis." "i am sorry i can't help you." the old woman hobbled off in evident anger. bob heard afterwards that she was a woman of ample means, fully able to afford steamboat fare, but so miserly that she grudged paying it. "now, sam," said bob, "clip will show you the way to a restaurant where you can get a hot cup of coffee and a plate of meat, if you desire it." while the boys were gone, bob received a visitor. chapter xxiii. a suspicious character. fifteen minutes after sam and clip had left him bob's attention was drawn to a man of somewhat flashy appearance, who, while leaning against a tree on the bank, seemed to be eying him and the boat with attention. he wore a prince albert coat which was no longer fit to appear in good society, a damaged hat, and a loud neck-tie. his eyes were roving from one point to another, as if he felt a great deal of interest in bob or the boat. our hero was not favorably impressed with this man's appearance. "i wonder what he sees that interests him so much?" he thought. "i say, young man, is this here boat yours?" he asked. "yes," answered bob, coldly. "what have you got on board?" bob felt under no obligation to answer, but reflecting that there was no good excuse for refusing, he said, briefly: "wheat." "humph! how much have you got?" this clearly was none of the questioner's business, and bob replied by another question: "do you want to buy?" "i don't know," said the stranger. "what do you ask?" "i can't say till i get to st. louis." "how much do you calc'late to get?" "two dollars and a quarter," answered bob, naming a price beyond his expectations. "ain't that a high figger?" "perhaps so." "come, young feller, you don't seem social. can't you invite me aboard?" "i don't think you would be paid for coming," said bob, more and more unfavorably impressed. "oh, i don't mind. my time ain't valuable. i guess i'll come." the stranger stepped across the gang-plank, which bob had laid from the boat to the shore, and entered without an invitation. bob was tempted to order him off, but the intruder appeared much stronger than himself; and while he was alone it seemed politic to submit to the disagreeable necessity of entertaining his unwelcome visitor. the latter walked from end to end of the boat, examining for himself without asking permission, or appearing to feel the need of any. he opened the bins and counted them, while bob looked on uneasily. "i say, young feller, you've got a smart lot of wheat here." "yes," said bob, briefly. "got a thousand bushels, i reckon?" "perhaps so." "and you expect to get two dollars and a quarter a bushel?" "perhaps i shall have to take less." "at any rate, you must have two thousand dollars' worth on board." "you can judge for yourself." "i say, that's a pile of money--for a boy." "the wheat doesn't belong to me." "who owns it, then." "my mother." "what's your mother's name?" "i have answered all the questions i am going to," said bob, indignantly. "don't get riled, youngster. it ain't no secret, is it?" "i don't care about answering all the questions a stranger chooses to put to me." "i say, young chap, you're gettin' on your high horse." "what is your object in putting all these questions?" "what is my object?" "that is what i asked." "the fact is, youngster, i've got a ranch round here myself, and i've got about five hundred bushels of wheat i want to market. naturally i'm interested. see?" bob did not believe a word of this. "where is your ranch?" he asked. "about two miles back of the town," answered the stranger, glibly. that lie was an easy one. "i'm thinkin' some of runnin' down to the city to see if i can't sell my wheat in a lump to some merchant. mebbe i could strike a bargain with you to carry me down." bob had even more objection to the new passenger than to the old lady, and he answered stiffly: "i have no accommodations for passengers." "oh, i can bunk anywhere--can lie on deck, on one of the bins. i'm used to roughin' it." "you'd better take passage by the next steamer. this is a freight boat." "there ain't anybody but you aboard, is there?" "yes; i have two companions." the stranger seemed surprised and incredulous. "where are they?" he asked. "gone into the village." the visitor seemed thoughtful. he supposed the two companions were full-grown men, and this would not tally with his plans. this illusion, however, was soon dissipated, for sam and clip at this point crossed the gang-plank and came aboard. "are them your two companions?" asked the stranger, appearing relieved. "yes." sam and clip eyed him curiously, expecting bob to explain who he was, but our hero was only anxious to get rid of him. "then you can't accommodate me?" asked the man. "no, sir; but if you'll give me your name and address, i can perhaps sell your crop for you, and leave you to deliver it." "never mind, young feller! i reckon i'll go to the city myself next week." "just as you like, sir." he re-crossed the plank, and when he reached the shore took up his post again beside the tree, and resumed his scrutiny of the boat. "what does that man want?" asked sam. "i don't know. he asked me to give him passage to st. louis." "you might make money by carrying passengers," suggested sam. "i wouldn't carry a man like him at any price," said bob. "i haven't any faith in his honesty or respectability, though he tells me that he owns a ranch two miles back of the town. he came on the boat to spy out what he could steal, in my opinion." "how many days do you think we shall need for the trip, bob?" asked sam. "it may take us a week; but it depends on the current, and whether we meet with any obstructions. are you in a hurry to get back to your uncle?" "no," said sam, his face wearing a troubled look. "the fact is, bob, i don't mean to go back at all." "you mean dat, massa sam?" asked clip, his eyes expanding in his excitement. "yes, i mean it. if i go back i shall have to return to my uncle, and you know what kind of a reception i shall get. he will treat me worse than ever." "i am sure, sam, my mother will be willing to let you live with us." "i should like nothing better, but my uncle would come and take me away." "would he have the right?" "i think he would. he has always told me that my poor father left me to his charge." "do you think he left any property?" "yes; i feel sure he did; for on his deathbed he called me to him, and said: 'i leave you something, sam; i wish it were more; but, at any rate, you are not a pauper.'" "did you ever mention this to your uncle, sam?" "yes." "what did he say?" "it seemed to make him very angry. he said that my father was delirious or he would never have said such absurd things. but i know he was in his right mind. he was never more calm and sensible than when he told me about the property." "i am afraid sam, your uncle has swindled you out of your inheritance." "i think so, too, but i can't prove anything, and it won't do to say anything, for it makes him furious." "what does your aunt say?" "oh, she sides with uncle aaron; she always does that." "then i can't say i advise you to return to carver, although clip and i are sure to miss you." "'deed i shall, massa sam," said clip. "i think i can pick up a living somehow in st. louis. i would rather black boots than go back to uncle aaron." "i am sure you can. perhaps some gentleman will feel an interest in you, and take you into his service." "i want to tell you, bob, that uncle aaron hates you, and will try to injure you. you will need to be careful." "that's no news, sam. he has shown his dislike for me in many ways; but i am not afraid of him," the boy added, proudly. at nine o'clock the boys went to bed. they were all tired, and all slept well. it was not till seven o'clock that bob awoke. his two companions were asleep. he roused them, and they prepared for the second day's trip. chapter xxiv. clip makes a little money for himself. about noon the next day, while clip was at the helm, there was a sudden jolt that jarred the boat from stem to stern, if i may so speak of a double-ender ferry-boat. bob and sam, who had been occupied with re-arranging some of the cargo, rushed up to the colored pilot. "what on earth is the matter, clip asked bob. "'clare to gracious, i dunno, massa bob," asseverated clip. bob didn't need to repeat the question. clip had steered in shore, and the boat had run against a tree of large size which had fallen over into the river, extending a distance of a hundred feet into the stream. of course the boat came to a standstill. "what made you do this, clip?" said bob, sternly. "didn't do it, massa bob. ol' boat run into the tree himself." "that won't do, clip. if you had steered right, there would have been no trouble." "i steered just as you told me to, massa bob." "no, you didn't. you should have kept the boat at least a hundred and fifty feet from the shore." "didn't i, massa bob?" asked clip, innocently. "no. don't you see we are not more than fifty feet away now?" "i didn't get out and measure, massa bob," said clip, with a grin. "now, own up, clip, were you not looking at something on the bank, so that you didn't notice where you were steering?" "who told you, massa bob?" asked clip, wondering. "i know it must be so. do you know you have got us into trouble? how am i going to get the boat back into the stream?" clip scratched his head hopelessly. the problem was too intricate for him to solve. "i think, clip, i shall have to leave you over at the next place we come to. you are more bother than you are worth." "oh, don't, massa bob. i won't do so again. 'deed i won't." bob didn't relent for some time. he felt that it was necessary to impress clip with the heinousness of his conduct. at length he agreed to give him one more chance. he had to secure the services of two stout backwoodsmen to remove the tree, and this occasioned a delay of at least two hours. finally the boat got started again, and for the remainder of the day there was no trouble. towards the close of the afternoon they reached a place which we will call riverton. it was a smart western village of about two thousand inhabitants. bob and sam went on shore to get some supper, leaving clip in charge. "now, clip, you must keep your eyes open, and take good care of everything while we are gone," said bob. "all right, massa bob." about ten minutes after the boys went away clip was sitting on a barrel whistling a plantation melody, when a slender, florid-complexioned young man stepped aboard. "good-evening, sir," he said, removing his hat. "evenin'," answered clip, with a grin. he was flattered by being addressed as "sir." "are you in charge of this boat?" "yes; while massa bob and sam are gone ashore." "are they boys like yourself?" "yes, sir." "are you three all that are on board--i mean all that man the boat?" "yes, massa." "where are you bound?" "to st. louis." "do you think they would take me as passenger?" clip shook his head. "they won't take no passengers," he answered. "an ol' woman wanted to go as passenger, and another man" (clip was unconscious of the bull), "but massa bob he said no." "suppose i make a bargain with you," said the man, insinuatingly. "what you mean, massa?" asked clip, rolling his eyes in wonderment. "can't you hide me somewhere without their knowing i am on board?" "what for i do dat?" asked clip. "i'll make it worth your while." "what's dat?" "i'll give you five dollars." "for my own self?" "yes; for yourself." "and i won't have to give it to massa bob?" "no; you can spend it for yourself." "but massa bob would find out to-morrer." "if he finds out to-morrow i shan't mind." "and you won't take back the money?" "no; you can keep the money at any rate." "where's the money?" asked clip, cautiously. the stranger took out a five-dollar gold piece, and showed it to clip. clip had seen gold coins before, and he understood the value of what was offered him. "where can i put you?" he said. "we'll go round the boat together, and see if we can find a place." the round was taken, and the stranger selected a dark corner behind a bin of wheat. "will massa bob, as you call him; be likely to look here?" "no; i reckon not." "have you got anything to eat on board which you can bring me by and by?" "i'm goin' on shore soon as massa bob gets back. i'll buy something." "that will do." the stranger ensconced himself in his hiding-place, and soon after bob and sam returned. "has anybody been here, clip?" asked bob. "no, massa bob," answered clip, solemnly. poor clip's moral convictions were rather obtuse, and a lie did not impress him as seriously wrong. "what have you been doing while we were away?" "nothin', massa bob." "that's what you like best to do, clip, isn't it?" "dat's where you're right, massa bob. yah, yah!" "well, you can go to your supper, clip. here's some money." "all right, massa bob." clip did not seem in any great hurry to go. he was rather afraid that bob and sam would explore the boat while he was away. finally he walked away with slow steps, looking back from time to time. "what's got into clip?" said bob, wonderingly. "i guess he isn't hungry," answered sam, with a laugh. ten minutes later bob's attention was drawn to a crowd of men and boys who were approaching the boat. he naturally wondered what was the object of the assemblage. the leader called out to bob, when he had approached sufficiently near: "i say, boy, have you seen anything of a man with dark hair, florid complexion, wearing a light suit, running along the bank?" "no, sir. why?" "a man of that description has stolen a sum of money from a dry-goods store in the town. he was seen running in this direction. we thought you might have seen him." "no, sir; i have seen nothing of such a man." bob little dreamed that the thief in question was concealed at that moment within twenty-five feet of where he was sitting. chapter xxv. clip's secret mission. the man who had addressed bob eyed him sharply on receiving his negative answer. "it is a pretty serious thing to connive at the escape of a criminal," he said. "that remark does not affect me, sir. i know nothing of any criminal. if i had seen him i would tell you." bob talked so frankly and honestly that it seemed impossible to doubt his word. the leader of the pursuing party turned to consult with a friend. "the boy seems straightforward," he said. "what do you think?" "i agree with you. still, the man was seen to run in this direction." the first questioner was the one most concerned in the capture of the guilty party, for it was his store that had been robbed. "have you been here all the time?" he asked, turning once more to bob. "no, sir; my friend and i have been to the village to get supper." "did you leave no one on board?" "yes, sir; a colored boy in my service--a boy named clip." "did he mention having seen any suspicious party, or any man who seemed to be running away?" "no, sir." "where is he? i would like to speak with him." "he has gone to the village to get his supper." if clip had been present he would no doubt have been questioned, but as he was absent the party of investigation did not think it worth while to wait. "that's rather curious, sam," said bob, when they were again alone. "we were suspected of screening a criminal." "i wouldn't give much for the fellow's chance of escape. they are evidently determined to catch him." these words were all distinctly heard by the man in hiding. "i was lucky to fall in with the little nigger," he reflected. "them boys would have refused to help me. they would give me up now if they knew i was on board. i must be careful." clip came back at the end of half an hour. if bob had taken notice of him, he would have noticed that the boy's pockets bulged out as if crowded with articles. but he had no especial reason for suspecting clip of any underhand proceeding, and sat with sam talking about home matters, leaving his young colored servant to his own devices. clip was faithful to his trust. he had agreed to take care of his concealed passenger, and he was determined to do so. as soon as he could do so without observation, he went to the man's hiding-place and poured out the contents of his pockets. there were some buns and small rolls and a few round cakes. "will they do you, mister?" he asked, in a low voice. "yes; but i'm terribly thirsty. have you got any whisky aboard?" clip shook his head. "we ain't got no 'toxicating liquors," he answered. "can you bring me a glass of water?" "i'll try. if you'd let me tell massa bob you were on board, i guess he'd give you some milk." "milk be--hanged! no, i'll make it do with water. don't you tell this bob, on any account, that i am here!" "all right, massa!" answered clip; but he was getting more and more puzzled. "are you goin' to stay in dat place all night?" "yes." "you'll find it mighty uncomfor'ble. if massa bob knew you was here--" "he is not to know, do you hear?" said the other, impatiently. "all right, massa! you know best." "of course i know best." by this time clip was missed. "where are you, clip?" asked bob. "i'm jist loafin' around, massa bob," said clip, a little startled. "there's something strange about you to-night, clip; i don't understand it." "i'm thinkin' of old times down in arkansaw, massa bob." "would you like to be there now, clip?" "no, massa bob, i'd rather live with you and your mudder. my ol' massa use to give me plenty of lickin's. i don't want to go back, never no more." clip still continued to be restless and uneasy. he knew he had no authority for taking a passenger on board, and feared that bob would take away the five dollars if he learned that clip had accepted so large a sum. to do clip justice, he had no idea that the man whom he had hidden was an offender against the laws, and that the police were in search of him. even if he had known this, however, it is not certain that clip would have been prejudiced against the offender. in truth, his prejudices were against the agents of the law rather than against those who had offended. bob and sam usually retired early; but to-night, to clip's discontent, they remained up later than usual, talking about matters at home. "isn't you ever goin' to bed, massa bob?" asked clip, at last. "what is your hurry, clip? are you sleepy?" "awful sleepy, massa bob," answered clip; "can't hardly keep my eyes open." "then you can go to bed any time. sam and i will soon follow." this was not altogether satisfactory, for clip meant to get up as soon as bob and sam were asleep and visit his passenger, who had expressed a wish to have him do so. however, there was nothing to be said, and clip withdrew to his bunk and lay down; but, as may readily be guessed, his mind was too active for sleep. there was some one else who was anxious to have bob and sam retire. this was the hidden passenger, who found his quarters contracted and uncomfortable. "what's the matter with those confounded boys?" he growled to himself. "they seem determined to sit up on purpose to vex me. when they are once asleep i can get up and stretch my limbs." in about twenty minutes the boys, judging from their deep and regular breathing, had fallen asleep. clip, who had been waiting anxiously, raised himself on his elbow and eyed them closely. feeling that it was now safe for him to do so, he slipped out of bed cautiously and began to feel his way toward the hiding-place of his new acquaintance. "they're asleep," he whispered. "now, what you want, massa?" "it's high time they were," growled the man. "i thought they were going to sit up all night." "so did i," returned clip. "are you sure there is no whisky on board?" "no, massa." "i suppose you could get some for me on shore. there's a saloon only three minutes' walk from this place." clip was reluctant to go on shore on such an errand; but finally the offer of fifty cents for himself induced him to do so. he took a tin cup which bob had brought with him from home, and started on his errand. at the saloon he was asked, "do you want this for yourself? we don't sell to boys." "no, massa; it's for a sick man." "where's the sick man?" "on board a boat." upon this representation the whisky was obtained, and clip started on his return. his curiosity led him to take a swallow of the whisky he was carrying, but it did not commend itself to clip's palate. "it's nasty stuff!" he said with a grimace; "i don't see what fo' people drink it." he carried the drink safely to the passenger, who drank it and smacked his lips over it. "it goes to the right spot," he said. "do those boys sleep sound?" he asked. "yes, massa." "then i'll get out of this beastly hole and take a turn on deck." "be keerful, massa!" said clip anxiously. "oh, yes; i won't make any noise." clip crept back to bed and succeeded in resuming his place without disturbing or arousing bob or sam. chapter xxvi. was it the cat? usually bob burton slept all night; but to-night, unfortunately for clip, he awakened about two o'clock in the morning. by an equally perverse chance, just as he awoke, the concealed passenger, now enjoying the freedom of the deck, broke out into a stentorian sneeze. bob heard it, and so did clip, whose uneasiness made him sleep more lightly than usual, and both were startled. "i hope massa bob won't hear dat," thought clip. but bob did hear it. "what's that?" he asked, half rising in bed. "it's me!" answered clip, preferring to admit the sneeze rather than have bob suspect that there was any one else on the boat. "do you mean to say you sneezed, clip?" asked bob, in amazement. "yes, massa bob." "you must be dreaming. the sneeze came from another part of the boat." "are you sure?" asked clip. "yes. what made you tell me that it was you who sneezed?" "i t'ought i did, massa bob." "when did you wake up?" "just now." "the sneeze must have waked you up." "i dunno," answered clip, dubiously. "there must be some one on board, unless we both dreamed about the sneeze." "mebbe it's a cat!" remarked clip, ingenuously. bob laughed. "it must be a very remarkable cat that would sneeze like that," he said. "jus' so, massa bob," assented clip, meekly, hoping that bob would drop the subject. "i think, clip, i shall get up and search for that cat." "don't you do it, massa bob. he--he might bite you." "i hope i am not such a coward as to be afraid of a cat." bob rose and lighted a candle which he had with him. then, followed by clip, he advanced to the other end of the deck. but the passenger had warning, having heard the conversation which had taken place between bob and clip, and had hurriedly retreated to his former hiding-place. it did not occur to bob to look there, and he returned from his fruitless search more mystified than ever. but, clip being close beside him, he caught the aroma of the single swallow of whisky which clip had taken, and he immediately began to suspect poor clip of having indulged in much deeper potations than he was guilty of. "clip," he said, suddenly, "i smell whisky." "does you, massa bob?" asked clip, feeling that he was getting into a scrape. "yes, i do, clip; and where do you think it comes from?" "don't know, massa bob; 'deed i don't." "it comes from your mouth, clip. you've been drinking!" drops of perspiration stood on clip's forehead. he could not excuse himself, or explain matters, without betraying his secret. not thinking of anything to say, he said nothing. "tell me the truth, clip; have you been drinking?" "i jes' took a little swaller." "where did you take it?" "on sho'." "what made you do such a thing? i didn't dream that you were getting intemperate, clip." "you see, massa bob, a gen'leman asked me to bring him a drink of whisky, and i t'ought i'd jest see how it tasted." "who asked you to bring him some whisky?" asked bob, who believed this to be a pure fiction on the part of his young companion. "a gen'leman." "what gentleman?" "he didn't tell me his name." "i think you are telling me a lie, clip." "no i ain't, massa bob; it's as true as de bible." "i don't think you know much about the bible, clip." "it's all true what i told you, massa bob. if i find de gen'leman, i'll bring him here to tell you." the witness referred to smiled to himself grimly when he heard this statement. "that little nigger's a brick!" he said to himself. "as to that other boy, i'd like to throw him overboard. he's too fond of meddling with other people's business." it may occur to the reader that this was hardly a fair way of stating the case. as the boat belonged to bob, and he was the commander, it might safely be assumed that he had a right to inquire into anything that excited his suspicion. "are you goin' back to bed, massa bob?" asked clip, uneasily. "wait a minute, clip; i want to get a drink of water." again poor clip was in bad luck. the tin dipper had been used to procure the whisky, and of course it still smelled strongly of that liquor. "clip," said bob, as soon as he had raised it to his lips, "you got some whisky in this cup." "ye'es," admitted clip. "and you drank it yourself instead of giving it to any gentleman." "no, i didn't, massa bob," stoutly, and as we know truly, asserted clip. "i'm ashamed of you, clip. if you are going to act in this way, i shall have to send you home. you have been acting very queerly this evening. sam and i both noticed it, but i didn't think you had formed a taste for whisky." "i don't love it, massa bob. i hate it. it's awful nasty stuff." "and you didn't drink this dipper full, then?" "no, i didn't." "what did you do with it?" "throwed it away, massa bob. i only took one swaller. i couldn't drink it if you gave me half a dollar; 'deed i couldn't." "i hope this is true, clip. i shouldn't like to tell my mother that you had become intemperate." "what's the matter?" was heard from sam's bed at this juncture. "where are you, bob?" "here i am, sam." "what made you get up?" "i thought i heard a noise on deck; so clip and i got up." "what was it like?" "a sneeze. clip thought it might be a cat." bob and sam laughed at the ludicrous idea, and clip joined in, glad that bob's embarrassing cross-examination was over. "you'd better come to bed, both of you. very likely you dreamed it." at that moment, and before bob had put out the candle, there was a most unlooked-for corroboration of clip's singular theory. an immense tom-cat ran swiftly between bob's legs, from some place of concealment. both he and clip saw it, and the latter was quick to take advantage of the opportune appearance of the animal. "dare's de cat, massa bob," he shouted, triumphantly. "didn't i tell you it was a cat?" bob was temporarily nonplussed. clip seemed to have the best of the argument. "all i can say is, it is a remarkable cat," he said. "i wish it would sneeze again." the rest of the night passed without anything remarkable happening. all three boys slept soundly. indeed, it was later than usual, probably on account of their sleep being interrupted during the night, that they awoke. according to custom, the boys took turns in going out to breakfast. "clip, you and sam can go out together," said bob. "i will take my turn afterwards." "i ain't in no hurry, massa bob," said clip. "you an' sam go first, and i'll go afterwards." bob thought this a little strange, but did not object. when clip was left alone he went at once to see his charge. "hope you pass de night good," said clip, politely. "i'm awfully cramped up," groaned the other. "but you're a trump, clip. you stood by me like a trojan." "thank you, massa. i'm afraid massa bob'll find you out. how long you goin' to stay?" "till i get a few miles from this town. then he may find me and welcome." clip felt that it would be a great relief to him when there was no further need of concealment. chapter xxvii. the mysterious passenger is discovered. bob burton started on his trip down the river quite unaware that he carried a passenger; clip's peculiar nervousness attracted his attention, and he wondered at it, but finally was led to attribute it to the whisky, of which he credited clip with having drunk a considerable amount. we know that he was mistaken in this, but those who practice deception are apt to be misjudged, and have no right to complain. one more discovery puzzled bob. clip happened to have a hole in the pocket in which he carried the money given him by the mysterious passenger. at first it was not large enough to imperil the safety of the coin; but clip thrust his hand so often into his pocket, to see if the money was safe, that he had unconsciously enlarged the opening. as a result of this, as he was walking the deck, a two-dollar-and-a-half gold piece, obtained in change, slipped out, and fell upon the deck. bob happened to be close at hand, and instantly espied the coin. clip walked on without noticing his loss. bob stooped and picked up the coin. "a gold piece!" he thought, in amazement. "where can clip possibly have got it?" he had not missed any of his own money. indeed, he knew that none of it was in gold. certainly the case looked very mysterious. "clip," he said. "what, massa bob?" returned clip, innocently. "is this gold piece yours?" clip started, and, if he had been white, would have turned pale. "i reckon it is, massa bob," he answered, with hesitation. "where did it come from?" "from my pocket," he answered. "but how did it come into your pocket, clip?" "i put it there." "look here, clip," said bob, sternly. "you are evading the question." "what's dat, massa bob?" "you are trying to get rid of telling me the truth. did you steal this money?" "no, i didn't," answered clip, indignantly. "i nebber steal." "i am glad to hear it. then, if you didn't steal it, how did you get it?" clip scratched his kinky hair. he was puzzled. "i done found it," he answered, at length. "where did you find it?" "in de--de street." "when and where?" "dis mornin', when i was comin' from breakfast." "if you found it, there would be no objection to your keeping it," he said, "provided you could not find the original owner." "can't find him now, nohow," said clip, briskly. "come here a minute." clip approached, not understanding bob's reason for calling him. bob suddenly thrust his hand into clip's pocket, and drew out two silver dollars, and a quarter, the remains of the five-dollar gold piece, clip having spent a quarter. "what's all this?" he asked, in amazement. "did you find this money, too?" "yes, massa bob," he answered, faintly. "clip, i am convinced you are lying." "no, i'm not." "do you mean to tell me you found all these coins on the sidewalk?" "yes, massa bob." "that is not very likely. clip, i don't want to suspect you of dishonesty, but it looks very much as if you had been stealing." "no, i haven't, massa bob," asserted clip, stoutly. "do you still tell me that you found all this money?" clip began to find himself involved in the intricacies of his lie, and his courage gave out. "no, massa bob. don't you get mad with me, and i'll tell you the trufe." "tell it, then." "a gemman gave it to me." "a gentleman gave you this money. what did he give it to you for?" "he--he wanted to go down de ribber," stammered clip. "wanted to go down the river? suppose he did," said bob, not yet understanding; "why should he give you money?" "he wanted me to let him go as a passenger on de boat." "ha!" said bob, a sudden light breaking in upon him. "and you agreed to take him?" "ye-es, massa bob." "where is he now?" it was not clip that answered this question. there was heard a noise from the corner as of some one moving about, and from his sheltered place of refuge, the mysterious passenger stepped forth. he coolly took out his silk handkerchief and dusted his coat and vest. "really," he said, "i can't say much for your accommodations for passengers. have you got such a thing as a clothes-brush on board this craft?" bob stared at him in amazement, and could not find a word to say for the space of a minute. "who are you, sir?" he asked, at length. "who am i? well, you may call me john smith, for want of a better name." "when did you come on board?" "at the last landing. i made a bargain with that dark-complexioned young man"--with a grin at clip--"who for the sum of five dollars agreed to convey me to st. louis. it wasn't a very high price, if i had decent accommodations." "why didn't you tell me this, clip?" demanded bob. "i--de gemman didn't want me to," stammered clip. "quite right," corroborated the stranger. "i told clip he needn't mention our little arrangement, as he thought you might object to it. i don't blame him for telling you at last, for you forced him to do so. i suppose you are the captain." "i am all the captain there is," answered bob. "i am delighted to make your acquaintance, really. i assure you i am glad to get out of that dusty hole, and presume you will now allow me the freedom of the deck." the stranger was so cool and self-possessed--cheeky, perhaps it might be called--that bob eyed him in wonder. "why did you select my boat in preference to a regular passenger steamer?" he asked. "a little whim of mine!" answered the other, airily. "the truth is, i am a newspaper reporter, and i thought such a trip as i am making would furnish the materials for a taking article. i mean to call it 'in the steerage; or, a boat ride on the missouri.' good idea, isn't it?" "why, yes, it might be," said bob, dryly; "but i think the owner of the boat ought to have been consulted." "accept my apologies, captain bob," said the passenger, with a smile. "if there was a saloon near, i would invite you to take a drink with me, but--" "never mind. i don't drink. here, clip!" "well, massa bob." "you did wrong to take this man's money, and you must return it." at these last words clip's countenance fell. bob counted the money and handed it to the stranger. "there are twenty-five cents missing," he said. "i will make that up from my own pocket." "let the boy keep the money. i don't want it back." "i cannot allow him to keep it." clip's face, which had brightened at the stranger's words, fell again. "what is your objection?" asked the passenger. "i may as well be frank with you. i understand your reason for embarking on my boat in preference to waiting for a river steamer. you were in a hurry to leave the town." "that's what i said." "shall i mention the reason?" "if you like." "because you had been implicated in robbing a store--perhaps several. this is stolen money." "i deny it. i may have been suspected. in fact, i don't mind admitting that i was, and that i thought it my best policy to get away. the good people were likely to give me a great deal of trouble. thanks to you--" "not to me." "to clip, then, i managed to elude their vigilance. it makes me laugh to think of their disappointment." bob did not appear to look upon it as a joke, however. "of course i shall not allow you to remain on the boat," he said. "i'll give you twenty-five--thirty dollars," said the stranger, earnestly. "i decline. it would be making me your accomplice. i would be receiving stolen money." "what do you propose, then?" "i will steer the boat as near the shore as i can, and request you to land." the stranger shrugged his shoulders. "very well," he said. "we must be eight or ten miles away from my accusers. i think i can manage for myself now." in ten minutes the stranger stepped jauntily ashore, and, lifting his hat, bade bob a cheerful good-bye. chapter xxviii. sam finds a relation. as my readers may feel interested in the subsequent adventures of the mysterious passenger, i may state that his extraordinary coolness did not save him. a description of his appearance had been sent to the neighboring towns, and only a few hours after he had left the ferry-boat he was arrested, and taken back to the scene of his theft. a trial was held immediately, and before the end of the week he found himself an inmate of the county jail. on the day succeeding his departure, bob brought the boat to anchor at a place we will call sheldon. there was no restaurant, and bob and sam took supper at the sheldon hotel. clip had been sent on shore first, and the boys felt in no hurry to return. they accordingly sat down on a settee upon the veranda which ran along the front of the hotel. as they sat there, unknown to themselves they attracted the attention of a middle-aged man with sandy hair and complexion, whose glances, however, seemed to be especially directed towards sam. finally, he approached the boys and commenced a conversation. "young gentlemen," he said, "you are strangers here, i imagine?" "yes, sir," replied bob. "are you traveling through the country?" "we have a boat on the river, sir; but we generally tie up at night, and start fresh in the morning." "how far do you intend going?" "to st. louis." "pardon my curiosity, but it is not common for two boys of your age to undertake such an enterprise alone. are you in charge of the boat?" "he is," said sam, indicating bob. "and you, i suppose, are a relative of his?" "no, sir; i help him." "have you come from a distance?" "decidedly," thought bob, "this gentleman is very curious." still there seemed to be no reason for concealment, and accordingly he mentioned the name of the village in which sam and himself made their home. their new acquaintance appeared to take extraordinary interest in this intelligence. "is there a man named wolverton who lives in your town?" he asked. "yes," answered bob, in surprise; "aaron wolverton." "exactly. this young man," indicating sam, "has the wolverton look." now it was sam's turn to be surprised. "i am sam wolverton," he said. "do you know my uncle?" "i not only know him, but i knew your father, if you are the son of john wolverton." "that was my father's name." "then i am a relative. my name is robert granger, and i am a cousin of your mother." "my mother's maiden name was granger," said sam, becoming very much, interested. "do you live here, sir?" "yes; i have lived in sheldon for the last ten years. i came from ohio originally. it was there that your father met my cousin fanny, and married her. do you live with your uncle aaron?" "i have been living with him," answered sam, hesitating. "does that mean that you have left him?" asked mr. granger, quickly. sam looked inquiringly at bob. he hardly knew whether it would be advisable for him to take this stranger, relation though he were, into his confidence. bob answered his unspoken inquiry. "tell him all, sam," he said. "i have left my uncle aaron," said sam, "without his consent. i hid on board bob's boat, and got away." "you have run away, then?" "yes, sir; you may blame me for doing so, but you would not if you knew how meanly uncle aaron has treated me!" "i know aaron wolverton, and i am far from admiring him," said robert granger. "but in what way has he ill-treated you?" "he made me work very hard, and would not always give me enough to eat. he keeps a very plain table." "but why should he make you work hard?" "he said i ought to earn my living." "did he say that?" "yes, whenever i complained. he asked me what would have become of me if he had not given me a home." "the old hypocrite! and what has he done with your property?" "my property!" repeated sam, hardly believing his ears. "yes. of course you know that you have property, and that your uncle aaron is your guardian?" "i never knew that i had a cent of money, sir. uncle always said that my father died very poor." "your father, to my knowledge, left property to the amount of five thousand dollars." "that is all news to me, mr. granger." "and to me," added bob. "i heard mr. wolverton tell my father the same story, that john wolverton died without a cent, and that he had taken in sam out of charity." "he seems to have taken him in, emphatically." "in what did the property consist?" asked bob. "in a house, situated in st. louis--a small house in the outskirts of the city--and some shares of bank stock." "he thought sam would never find out anything of it." "i should not, if i had not met you, mr. granger." "old aaron wolverton is a long-headed man; but even long-headed men sometimes over-reach themselves, and i think he has done so in this instance." "but what can i do, sir? i am only a boy, and if i should say anything about the matter to uncle aaron he would deny it, and perhaps treat me the worse." "there is one thing aaron wolverton is afraid of, and that is the law. he doesn't care for the honesty or dishonesty of a transaction, but he doesn't mean to let the law trip him up. that is the hold we shall have upon him." "i believe you there," said bob. "he has already tried to swindle my mother, and he is scheming now to get possession of our ranch. it is partly on that account that i started on this trip down the river." "do you carry freight, then?" "yes, sir; i carry a thousand bushels of wheat--rather more, in fact--intending to sell them in st. louis." "couldn't you have sent them?" "yes, sir; but by taking the wheat to market myself i shall save the heavy expense of freight, and commission for selling." "you seem to be a smart boy," said robert granger, eying bob with interest. "i hope you are right," bob answered, with a laugh. "my young cousin accompanies you to help, i suppose?" "he came on board at the last moment, having determined to run away from aaron wolverton." "i wish you could spare him; i should like to take him home to talk over family matters with myself and my lawyer, and we would concert some way of forcing aaron wolverton to give up his property. i have some children of my own, who would be glad to make his acquaintance." "would you like to accept mr. granger's invitation, sam?" asked bob. "but i am afraid you will need me, bob." "no; i have clip. i think it will be well for you to stay. i will call on my way back." so it was arranged that sam should leave the boat and stay over. bob returned to the boat alone. the next day proved to be an eventful one. chapter xxix. rocky creek landing. twenty miles further down the river, at a point called rocky creek, two men of questionable appearance were walking slowly along the bank. one of them has been already introduced as visiting the boat, and displaying a great deal of curiosity about the cargo. the other, also, had the look of one who preferred to live in any other way than by honest industry. "suppose the boy doesn't touch here?" said one. "our plan would in that case be put out," said his companion; "but i don't think there is any doubt on that point. last night he was at sheldon, and this would naturally be the next stopping-place." "he is drawing near the end of his cruise. it won't do to delay much longer." "you are right, there." "i wasn't in favor of delaying so long. we have risked failure." "don't worry, minton. i'm managing this affair. i've got just as much at stake as you." "if all comes out right, i shall be satisfied; but i need the money i am to get for it from old wolverton." "that's a trifle. i am playing for a larger stake than that." "what, then?" "the paltry fifty dollars divided between two would not have tempted me. do you know, minton, how large and valuable a cargo there is on that old ferry-boat?" "no; do you?" "not exactly; but i know this much, that there are at least a thousand bushels of wheat, which will easily fetch, in st. louis, two thousand dollars." "how will that benefit us?" "you seem to be very dull, minton. when we have once shut up young burton in the place arranged, you and i will take his place, drift down the river, and dispose of the cargo, if necessary, at a point below the market price, and retire with a cool thousand apiece." "you've got a head, brown!" said minton, admiringly. "have you just found that out?" returned brown, complacently. "do you really think there is a chance of our succeeding?" "yes; of course we must be expeditious. two or three days, now, ought to carry us to st. louis. then, by selling below the market price, we can command an immediate sale. then, of course, we will clear out; go to california, or europe, or canada." "but we must get wolverton's money." "if we can without risk. it won't be worth that." "i don't like the idea of the old man escaping scot-free." "he won't; you may be sure of that," said brown, significantly. "he has placed himself in our power, and we will get a good deal more than fifty dollars out of him before we get through, or my name isn't brown." "what a head you've got!" repeated minton, with cordial admiration of the sharper rascal. "then there's the other affair, too!" said brown. "we are safe to make a good round sum out of that." "yes; but how can we look after the other? it won't be safe for us to remain anywhere in this locality if we sell the cargo." "leave that to me, minton. i will get joe springer to negotiate for us." by this time the reader will have guessed that these two men were those already referred to as having stopped wolverton on the night preceding bob's departure. the arrangement then made, brown had improved upon. he had engaged to remove the boys from the boat, and set it adrift. but it had occurred to him, after ascertaining the value of the cargo, to sell it for the joint benefit of his confederate and himself. it was the most promising job he had undertaken for a long time, and he was sanguine of ultimate success. he had followed the boat down the river, and had finally selected rocky creek as the point most favorable to the carrying out of his design. meanwhile bob and clip were on their way down the river. sam, as already described, had left them at sheldon, and was enjoying himself as the guest of captain granger, as he found his kinsman was called. bob missed him, not finding clip, though improved, as reliable as sam. but he was drawing near the end of his voyage and was willing to make the sacrifice, since it seemed to be so favorable to sam's prospects. the information which had been communicated to them touching aaron wolverton's breach of trust did not, on the whole, surprise him, except by its audacity; for wolverton had thus far been careful not to place himself within reach of the law and its penalties. he was delighted to think sam had found a new friend and protector, who would compel the unfaithful guardian to account for his dishonesty. clip heartily sympathized with bob in his feeling upon the subject. he liked sam, but disliked wolverton as much as one of his easy, careless disposition was capable of doing. "it seems lonely without sam," said bob, while standing at the helm, with clip sitting on deck whistling just beside him. "dat's so, massa bob." "but i am glad he has found a relation who will help him to get his money." "i'd like to see ol' man wolverton when sam come back with massa granger." "probably you will have a chance to see him. if he hadn't driven sam away by his bad treatment he would never have found out how he had been cheated." "dat's so, massa bob. i'd like to be in sam's shoes." "you'd have to make your feet smaller, then, clip!" "yah! yah!" laughed clip, who enjoyed a joke at his own expense. bob found his work harder now that sam was not on board to relieve him of a part of his duty. but they were making good speed, and there seemed a chance of reaching st. louis within three days. all was going well, yet an indefinable anxiety troubled bob. why, he could not explain. "clip," he said, "i don't know how it is, but i feel as if something were going to happen." "what can happen, massa bob? de boat is all right." "true, clip. i suppose i am foolish, but i can't get rid of the feeling. clip, i want you to be very careful to-night. don't let any mysterious passenger come on board." "no, massa bob. i won't do dat agin." "we shall soon be in st. louis, and then our care and anxiety will be over." "where will we stop to-night?" "at rocky creek." it was a quarter to five when bob reached the place where he had decided to tie up. there was a village of about five hundred inhabitants situated a little distance from the river-side. a small knot of loungers was gathered at the landing, and with languid interest surveyed the river craft and the young crew. among them bob recognized the man who had visited them two or three stations back. he knew him by his dress; the prince albert coat, the damaged hat, and the loud neck-tie. but apart from these he remembered the face, dark and unshaven, and the shifty black eyes, which naturally inspired distrust. the man made no movement towards the boat, but leaned indolently against a tree. "clip," said bob, quietly, "look at that man leaning against a tree." "i see him, massa bob." "have you ever seen him before?" "yes, massa bob; he came aboard de boat one day." "i thought i couldn't be mistaken. i wonder how he comes to be here. can he be following us?" it was too hard a problem for clip, who only shrugged his shoulders. just then another man from the assembled group lounged on board. it was minton. "boat ahoy!" said he, jauntily. "are you the captain?" "i'm all the captain there is," answered bob. "have you any wheat to sell? i am a grain merchant." he looked more like a penniless adventurer, bob thought. "i have no wheat to sell here," said bob, coldly. "i am on my way to st. louis." "perhaps i can do as well by you as the grain merchants in st. louis." "i don't care to sell here," said bob, shortly. "no offense, young man! i suppose a man can make an offer?" "certainly, sir." but the stranger did not leave the boat. he walked about, scrutinizing the arrangements carefully. "you've got a pretty big cargo, boy," he said. "yes, sir." "how many bushels now, about?" "why do you wish to know?" asked bob, eying the stranger keenly. "i thought i might like to load a boat like this some time, and it might be of use to know how much it would carry." "do you live in rocky creek?" asked bob, suddenly. "ye-as." "may i ask your name?" "smith--james smith," answered the other, with hesitation. "very well; when i have sold my cargo i will write you the number of bushels the boat contains." "thank you." "decidedly, the boy is sharp!" said minton to himself. "he's no milk-and-water boy!" he left the boat, and presently joined his friend brown. chapter xxx. an unlucky evening. bob was still in the habit of getting his supper, and breakfast the next morning, at the different points where he landed. he left clip on board, in charge of the boat, while he sought a good place to obtain a meal. he found that rocky creek possessed but one hotel, and that of a very modest character, bearing the rather imposing name of the metropolitan hotel. he registered his name, and intimated his desire for supper. "supper is on the table," said the clerk. bob entered the dining-room, a forlorn-looking room of small dimensions, containing a long table, at which sat two persons, a drummer from st. louis, and an old man with a gray beard, who kept the principal dry-goods store in rocky creek. bob was assigned a place between the two. "good-evening," said the drummer, sociably. "good-evening," responded bob. "are you a regular boarder?" "oh, no; i never was in the place before." "how did you come?" "by river." "indeed!" said the drummer, puzzled. "has any steamer touched here to-day?" "no; i came on my own boat." "bound down the river?" "yes." "business, i suppose?" "yes; i have a load of wheat which i propose to sell in the city." "what house shall you deal with?" "i don't know; i'm not acquainted in st. louis. i shall inquire when i get there." "then let me recommend you to go to pearson & edge. they will treat you liberally." "thank you. i will call on them and see what i can do." "present my card, if you please, and say i sent you there." the drummer produced his card and handed it to bob. from this our hero learned that his companion was benjamin baker, traveling for dunham & co., wholesale grocers. "shall you stay at the hotel this evening?" asked baker. "no; i shall pass the night on my boat." "how many have you on board?" "only myself and a colored boy from home--clip." "isn't that rather a small crew?" "perhaps so; but we haven't much to do, except to let the boat drift, keeping her straight meanwhile." "by the way, speaking of pearson, senior member of the firm i have recommended, he is in great trouble just now." "how is that?" "he had a very pretty little girl of about six years old--little maud. two or three days since, as i hear from a friend in the city, the little girl mysteriously disappeared." "disappeared?" "just so. her parents think she must have been kidnapped, as a suspicious-looking person had been noticed by the nurse hovering near when they were out walking together." "they must be in great trouble and anxiety," said bob, in a tone of sympathy, "if they believe this." "they would be glad to believe it, for in that case the little girl is alive, while otherwise she may have strayed to the river and been drowned. mr. pearson, who is wealthy, has offered a reward of one thousand dollars to any one who will restore his little girl to him." as they sat at table, bob noticed through the window the man minton, who had called upon him on the arrival of the boat. "do you know that man, mr. baker?" he asked, suddenly. the drummer shook his head. "i am a stranger, too," he said. "but perhaps this gentleman, who is in business at rocky creek, may be able to give you some information." thus appealed to, the old gentleman looked from the window. "it isn't any one i know," he replied. "why do you ask?" "because he called upon me on my arrival, representing himself as a grain merchant, and proposed to buy my cargo." the old man shrugged his shoulders. "he looks more like a tramp than a grain merchant," he said. "i agree with you," assented bob, with a laugh. "did he mention his name?" "he called himself james smith; but as he answered my questions in a hesitating manner, i concluded that it was an assumed name." "very likely." "then he doesn't live in the village?" "no; but he has been here for a day or two." "i wonder what could have been his object in representing himself to me as a grain merchant?" said bob, thoughtfully. "oh," answered the drummer, "he probably wanted to strike up an acquaintance which would justify him in borrowing a few dollars of you. i have met plenty of such characters they live by what they can borrow." when supper was over bob and the drummer rose together. "won't you have a cigar, mr. burton?" asked the latter. "no, thank you; i don't smoke." "oh, well, you'll learn after a while. at any rate, sit down and keep me company for a while." "thank you, but i shall have to go back to the boat and give clip a chance to get his supper." clip returned from supper at half-past seven, and bob, feeling wide awake, decided to go on shore again. he did not care to go to the hotel, but took a leisurely walk through the village and beyond. it was an unfortunate walk, for it made him an easy prey to the men who were scheming against him. in a lonely place two men sprang upon him suddenly, and before he could understand what was going on, he was gagged and helpless. in this condition the two men, taking him between them, hurried him to a lonely house at some distance from the road. bob burton was brave, but this sudden and mysterious attack startled and alarmed him not a little. he would have expostulated, but was unable, from being gagged, to utter a word. reaching the house, a short, sharp knock at the door was answered by a rough-looking man, dressed in a suit of faded and shabby cloth. "so you've got him!" was his laconic greeting. "yes, joe! now where shall we put him?" "come upstairs." the two men set bob down, and pushed him forward, and up a staircase, steep and dark. he was thrust into a room with a sloping roof, and the gag was removed from his mouth. "what does all this mean?" he asked, angrily, turning to the two men whom he recognized by the light of the lantern which joe springer carried in his hand. "it's all right, my lad!" said brown. "all you've got to do is to keep quiet, and no harm will come to you." "how long do you mean to keep me here?" asked bob, with, a feeling of despair in his heart. he suspected now what it all meant. "two weeks, perhaps; but you will be well taken care of." the men went out leaving the lantern behind them. bob heard the bolt shot in the lock. he looked around him. there was a low pallet in the corner. he threw himself on it, and, brave boy as he was, came near shedding tears. chapter xxxi. how clip was captured. everything had gone well with bob so far, and he was looking forward hopefully to the end of his journey, and the final success of his expedition. now all was changed. he was a prisoner, and though clip was on board the boat, he was utterly incompetent to take the place of his master. bob hardly dared trust himself to think of the future. he knew not what would become of his valuable cargo, but that it was lost to him seemed probable. this meant utter ruin, for he and his mother would have nothing to live upon till the next harvest, and meanwhile aaron wolverton would foreclose the mortgage. certainly, bob had reason to shed tears, and could not be charged with being unmanly if for a time he gave up to a feeling of despondency and almost despair. leaving him for an hour, we will accompany the two conspirators on their return to the boat. clip was on deck, anxiously watching for the return of bob. he was beginning to feel a little troubled. "can't think what's 'come of massa bob," he said to himself. "he said he'd be back in fifteen minutes. if anything's happened to him, what'll 'come of clip?" instead of fifteen minutes, an hour passed, and still bob had not returned. clip was seriously thinking of going on shore and looking for him, when two men came to the river bank. "hallo!" they said. "are you clip?" "yes," answered clip, in some surprise, not understanding how these two strangers could know his name. "you are sailing with robert burton?" "yes, massa." "where is he?" "gone on shore for a walk. did you see him anywhere?" "yes; we come from him." "why don't he come himself?" "the poor fellow has met with an accident. he has broken his leg." "massa bob broken him leg!" ejaculated clip, turning as pale as his complexion would admit. "how came he to do dat?" "i can't explain," said brown. "my friend and i came up just after it happened, and we took him to a house near by, where he was put to bed. he asked us to come for you and bring you to him." "yes, massa; i'll go right off," said clip, with alacrity. then he hesitated at the thought of leaving the boat. "what'll i do about de boat?" he asked, in perplexity. "pooh! no one will run off with it. probably your friend will want to be brought on board; we will help to bring him. meanwhile i will stay here and look after things, and my friend will take you to massa bob, as you call him." clip saw no objection to this plan. he was too simple-minded to suspect a trick, and being very much attached to his young master he was anxious to be taken to him. he put on his hat and expressed himself ready to go. "very well; minton, show him the house, and see if the boy is fit to be moved." clip did not see the wink that accompanied the last words. the two started on their journey. clip, though the smaller, walked so fast that minton was obliged to quicken his pace. he plied minton with questions till the latter was tired. "i can't tell you much about it," said the man, at length. "my friend and i saw young burton lying by the side of the road. he was groaning with pain. we took him up and carried him to a house close by." "he won't die?" faltered clip, in a tone of anxious inquiry. "oh, no! he's as safe to live as you or i. a broken leg doesn't amount to much." "i don' see why he lef' the boat," said clip, mournfully. "well, accidents will happen," said minton, philosophically. "do you think we can get him on de boat, massa?" "oh, yes. i have no doubt of it. you needn't feel worried. it'll all come right." clip, however, felt that there was sufficient reason for feeling troubled. he was rather surprised at the length of the walk. "what made massa bob go so far?" he asked. "he said he was just exploring a little--wanted to see the country, you know." "he couldn't see much in de dark." "well, he will explain the matter to you; i can't." at length they reached the lonely house. "this is where your friend was carried," said minton. clip thought it was a gloomy place, but his mind was now so occupied with thoughts of bob, whom he was to see immediately, that he said nothing. minton knocked at the door. it was opened by joe springer, whose appearance rather frightened clip. "oh, so you're back?" he said to minton. "who is this?" "it's a friend of the boy with the broken leg," answered minton, with a significant look. "ho! ho!" laughed joe, to clip's surprise. he could not understand what there was to laugh at. "i hope the poor boy's more comfortable," said minton. "i reckon so," answered joe, with another grin. "has he been quiet?" "yes, he hasn't made any noise; but he's been walking round the room." "walkin' round wid a broken leg!" repeated clip, amazed. "what a fool you are, joe!" exclaimed minton, in a vexed tone. "how could he walk round with a broken leg?" "i only meant it for a joke," said joe, in a half-sullen tone. "how did i know his leg was broken?" "my friend, here, was not in when we brought the boy," said minton, in an aside to clip. "now, joe, we'll go upstairs. clip, here, has come to keep his friend company." "i hope he'll like it," returned joe, with another incomprehensible grin. "well, get a light, and show us upstairs." clip thought the house far from pleasant. he had just started to go upstairs, when a little girl ran crying through the door of the adjoining room. "i want to go home," she cried. "i want to go to my papa." she was followed by a tall, gaunt woman, who seized the child in her bony grasp. "you're a very naughty girl," she said. "your papa sent you to stay with me." "no, he didn't. my papa doesn't know you." "if you talk like that i'll give you a whipping. i am your aunt--your father's sister." "no, you're not. i wouldn't have such an ugly aunt." "of all the perverse imps, this 'ere one is the most cantankerous i ever see," said the woman. "i should think you'd ought to be able to manage a little girl," said joe, roughly. "so i be. there's only one way of managin' one like her. i've got a strap in the other room, and she'll feel of it if she keeps on." clip followed minton up the steep, narrow staircase, and the two paused before the door of the chamber occupied by bob burton. "he is in here," said minton, briefly. he opened the door, and by the faint light of the lantern, clip recognized the figure of a boy stretched out on a pallet in the corner. bob looked up, and when he saw clip, he sprang to his feet. "you here, clip?" he asked. "yes, massa bob. which of you legs is broke?" "my legs broke! neither." "the man told me you broke you leg," said clip, bewildered. he turned to appeal to minton for a confirmation of his words, but the door was shut, and his conductor was already on the way downstairs. chapter xxxii. the boys imprisoned. "now sit down and tell me all about it, clip," said bob. "so you were told my leg was broke. who told you?" "de two men." "i think i know the two men. one of them brought you here. where is the other?" "he stayed on board the boat till we come back." "was there anything said about our going back?" asked bob, in surprise. "yes, massa bob. dey said you leg was broke, and you wanted me to come for you. de man said we would take you back with us." "clip," said bob, sadly, "these men deceived you. we are in a trap." "what's dat?" "they have made us prisoners, and i don't dare to think what they will do next." "dey won't 'sassinate us?" asked clip, who had picked up the word somewhere. "no; but i'll tell you what i think they will do. they will take the boat down the river, and sell the grain in st. louis, and run off with the money." this was the conclusion to which bob was led by clip's story. "we won't let 'em, massa bob," said clip, in excitement. "how shall we help it, clip?" "we must get out, and run away." "i wish i knew how," said bob. "if we can get out, we'll take a boat to the city, and git there ahead of 'em." somehow clip's words seemed to reassure bob. misery loves company, and the presence of his trusty friend and servant perceptibly lightened bob's spirits. "you are right, clip," he said. "to-morrow we will see what we can do. we can't do anything to-night." "who is de little girl, massa bob?" asked clip, suddenly. "what little girl?" "haven't you seen her? de little girl downstairs." "i haven't seen her. tell me about her." clip described her as well as he could, and succeeded in conveying to bob a general idea of her appearance, and that of the woman who had charge of her. bob listened, thoughtfully. "you don't think the little girl was any relation to the woman, clip?" he said. "no, massa bob; no more'n you is relation to me. de girl was a little lady, and de woman was awful ugly." "did the little girl say anything in your hearing?" "she asked to be taken back to her fader." suddenly there came into bob's mind the story about a little girl abducted from st. louis. "clip," he said, "i think the little girl has been stolen from her home. i think it is the same one we heard about the other day." "i pity de poor girl. de ol' woman shook her, and treated her bad." "if we could only run away from this place and take the little girl with us, it would be a capital idea. i would like to get her away from these wretches." "i'm wid you, massa bob," said clip, enthusiastically. "hush!" said bob, suddenly raising his finger. a little girl's voice was heard, and it was easy to judge that she was ascending the stairs. bob put his ear to the keyhole. "take me home to my papa!" said the poor child. "i don't want to stay here." "i'll whip you," said a harsh voice, "if you are not good. it's time little girls were a-bed. i'm going to put you to bed, and you can sleep till morning." "i don't want to go to bed." there was a little scream, for the woman had slapped her. "i'd like to get at that woman, clip," said bob, indignantly. they heard the door open--the door of the room adjoining. the partition was very thin, and it was easy to hear what was going on. not only this, but clip discovered an auger hole about eighteen inches above the floor, of sufficient size to enable him to look through it. "who was that black boy?" he heard the little girl say. "he's a funny-looking boy." "he's come to stay here with the other boy," answered the woman, glad to find something of interest to take the place of the complaints. "where are they?" asked the girl. "they are sleeping in the next room, so you need not be afraid if i go down and leave you." "may i play with them to-morrow?" "yes, if you will be a good girl," said the woman, willing to promise anything. then there was a little pause, spent in undressing the child. "now, get into bed, and go to sleep as soon as you can." "will you take me to my papa to-morrow?" "no," answered the woman, shortly. "your papa wants you to stay with me." "won't i never see my papa again?" asked the child, almost ready to cry. "yes; perhaps he'll come to see you next week," answered the woman, fearing that the child might sob and compel her to remain upstairs. "clip," said bob, who had taken clip's place at the hole in the partition, "there's no doubt of it. the girl has been stolen. i wish i could go into the room, and asked her about her father and her home." he went to the door and tried it, but it was firmly locked, and it was quite useless to try to get out. meanwhile, joe and his wife were conversing downstairs. "joe," said the woman, "i hope i'll get rid of that brat soon. she's a heap of trouble." "we shall be well paid," said joe. "who's to pay us?" asked the woman. "brown. he's the man that's got charge of the job. she's got a rich father, who'll shell out liberal to get her back." "did he pay you anything in advance?" "i squeezed five dollars out of him." "where is it, joe?" "don't you wish you knew, old woman?" said joe, with a grin. "i can take care of it." "half of it belongs to me." "how do you make that out?" "haven't i the care of the child? it don't trouble you." "it's all right, old lady. you won't be forgotten." "how much more is brown to pay you?" asked the woman, appearing dissatisfied. "forty-five dollars." the woman's eyes sparkled. to her this seemed a vast sum of money. "and how much am i to have?" "what do you want money for?" demanded joe, impatiently. "i do want it, and that's enough." "well, i can't say yet, old lady, but maybe you'll get ten dollars." "altogether?" "of course. ain't that enough?" "no, it isn't. we ought to divide even." "pooh, you're a woman. you don't need money." an unpleasant look came over the woman's face, but she said nothing. "come, old woman, i've got something that'll put you into good humor. see here!" joe produced from an out-of-the-way corner a suspicious-looking jug. "do you know what's in this?" "what is it?" asked the woman, looking interested. "whisky. get some boiling water, and i'll make you some punch. we'll make a night of it." his wife brightened up. evidently she did not belong to the temperance society, any more than her husband. she moved about the room with alacrity, and, assisted by her husband, brewed a punch which was of considerable strength. then they put it on the table, and set about enjoying themselves. "here's your health, ol' woman!" said joe, and he tried to sing a stave of an old drinking-song. together they caroused till a late hour, and then fell into a drunken sleep, which lasted till a late hour in the morning. about seven o'clock the little girl woke up, and, as is usual with children, wished to be dressed at once. "aunt," bob heard her say, "i want to be dressed." but no one came at her call. after a little waiting, she got out of bed and went downstairs, but returned in a minute or two, crying. bob called through the partition. "what's the matter, little girl?" "there's nobody to dress me. are you the boy that came yesterday?" "yes. where is the woman that put you to bed?" "she's downstairs--she and the man. they're lying on the floor. i can't wake them up." an idea came to bob. "come to our door, little girl, and see if you can draw back the bolt. we are fastened in." "will you take me to my papa?" "yes; i will try to." the child came to the door, and, following bob's directions, with some difficulty slipped back the bolt. "clip," said bob, in a tone of triumph, "we're free. now do as i tell you, and we'll get away, and reach st. louis ahead of the boat." chapter xxxiii. a lucky escape. "now," said bob to the little girl, as they descended the steep and narrow staircase, "will you do as i tell you?" "yes," answered the child, placing her hand confidingly in his. "then make as little noise as possible. we don't want them to wake up. if they do they will prevent your going away." "will you take me back to my papa, certain sure?" "yes." "oh, i am so glad." "clip," said bob, warningly, "mind you remain perfectly quiet. we must go through the room where the man and woman are sleeping. any little noise might wake them up." "don't be afeared for me, massa bob," said clip. the staircase led into the main room below, so that, as bob said, it was necessary to pass through it. entering the room on tip-toe, they witnessed a reassuring, but disgusting spectacle. joe springer was stretched out on the floor on his back, breathing heavily; while his wife, seated in a chair, rested her head on the kitchen table. she, too, seemed to be in a drunken stupor. the little girl regarded the woman nervously, remembering the harsh treatment she had received from her. there was one more ordeal, and one more danger to run. the outer door was locked, but the key was in the lock. there was a creaking sound as bob turned it. but he opened the door successfully, and once more they breathed freely in the clear air of morning. as the door opened they heard a muttered sound from joe springer. it sounded like "more whisky!" he was probably dreaming of his potations of the previous night. bob hurried along his two companions till they had reached a point some half a mile distant from the place of their imprisonment. then he thought it best to question the little girl. [illustration: little maud's escape from her abductors.] "what is your name?" he asked, gently. "don't you know my name?" asked the child, in surprise. "my name is maud." "what is your other name?" "pearson--my name is maud lilian pearson." "just as i thought, clip," said bob, triumphantly. "this is the little girl that was stolen from her parents in st. louis." "yes; my papa lives in st. louis. will you take me to him?" "yes, maud. only be a good little girl, and do as i tell you." "and you won't let that ugly woman take me away?" "no; we will hide you away from her. did she treat you badly?" "yes; she shook me, and said she would whip me. she said she was my aunt; but it isn't true." "who brought you to her?" maud thereupon described the man whom we know as brown, the abler one of the confederates who had stolen the ferry-boat. "i wonder whether our boat is gone?" said bob. "mebbe we can see from the hill," suggested clip. there was a small elevation near by. bob ascended it, and looked towards the point where his boat had been tied up. there was no sign of it. it had disappeared. though still early, brown and minton, fearing interference, had cut loose about four o'clock, and were, by this time, several miles on their way to the great city. "it's gone, clip," said bob, sadly. "never mind, massa bob, we'll catch 'em," answered clip, energetically. "yes, if there is any boat starts down the river to-day." this, however, was something which he was not sure of. moreover, he felt that the sooner he got away from joe springer and his estimable wife, the better. but where could he take refuge? not at the hotel, for springer would find him out and reclaim the little girl. while he was considering, in his perplexity, what course to pursue, he fell in with two boys, who appeared to be about fifteen years of age. they regarded bob and his party with curiosity. bob eyed the boys closely, and decided that they could be depended upon. they seemed to be just the friends he was in search of. he introduced himself, and learned that their names were john sheehan and edward bovee. "can you tell me, boys, when the next steamer will start for st. louis?" "yes," answered john; "there is one at seven o'clock to-morrow morning." "that is the earliest?" "yes," said john. "do you know of any private house where we can stay till that time? i am willing to pay a fair price." "you can come to our house," said edward bovee. "i am sure my mother will take you in. but you won't get as good meals as at the hotel." "i don't mind that. i shall be glad to stay at your house. could we go there to breakfast?" "yes; follow me, and i will lead the way." edward bovee led the way to a neat cottage, where his mother, a pleasant-looking lady, welcomed them, and readily undertook to keep them till the boat started for st. louis. bob, feeling the necessity of concealment, took mrs. bovee into his confidence, and readily secured the co-operation of the good lady, who took a motherly interest in little maud. now that the children have found a safe retreat, we will return to joe springer and his interesting wife. about half an hour after their young prisoners had escaped, mrs. springer raised her head from the table, and looked about her in a bewildered way. the bright sunshine entering at the window revealed to her that she had spent the night in a drunken stupor, even if joe's prostrate form had not been a visible reminder. she went to her husband, and shook him roughly. "get up, joe!" she said. "it's morning." he opened his eyes, and looked around him with stupefaction. "what's up, old woman?" he asked. "i am, and you ought to be," she answered, sharply. "where's the whisky?" "you've had enough. now get up and hustle round, if you want some breakfast. i'll go up and dress the little girl." mrs. springer went upstairs, but came down again two steps at a time, in a state of high excitement. "joe," said she, quickly, "the little gal's gone!" "_what?_" "the little gal's gone! run out and see if you can't catch her. if we lose her, we lose fifty dollars!" "are the boys all right?" "yes; the door is bolted. they couldn't get out." this was true. bob had taken the precaution to lock the door, after leaving the room. for this reason, it was half an hour later before joe discovered that all his prisoners had escaped. then, as might have been expected, there was a wild scene of recrimination, ending in a fight, in which mrs. springer did her part, for she was by no means a weak or delicate lady, but a woman without fear, who believed in the right of self-defense. the worthy pair instituted a search throughout the village, but failed to discover any trace of the lost children. the next morning, however, joe springer got up unusually early, for him, and strolled to the steamboat-landing. the boat was already out in the stream, when on the deck he discovered maud and the two boys. "stop the boat!" screamed joe, in excitement. "what's the matter?" asked the man beside him. "those three children. they have run away!" "from you?" "yes; from my house." "why, man, you must be drunk. you have no children." "i had charge of 'em, particularly the little gal! stop the boat, i say!" "has that man any claim on you?" asked the captain, who chanced to be standing near bob. "not the slightest," answered bob. "or the little girl?" "no; her father lives in st. louis, and i am taking her to him." "stop the boat!" screamed joe, frantically. "he's drunk!" said joe's neighbor. "he doesn't know what he's talking about." this settled the matter so far as the captain was concerned. bob paid the full passage-money for the party, and they were enrolled as regular passengers. towards the middle of the afternoon a surprise awaited them. they saw, not far ahead, their own boat, which was drifting down the river, with brown at the helm. "do you see that, clip?" asked bob. "yes, massa bob." "quick, hide! don't let them see us. i have no objection to their working their passage down to the city. when they get there, we will be on hand to take possession." "dat's a good joke! won't they be s'prised, dough?" said clip, showing his white teeth. so the steamboat swept by, carrying the three children past the two conspirators, who fancied them safely housed in joe springer's house up the river. chapter xxxiv. mr. wolverton's letter. while the boys are meeting with adventures, on their way down the river, we will return to the town of carver, in which, as it will be remembered, the burton ranch was located. there was no one more interested in the progress of the expedition than aaron wolverton. it was against his wishes and his interest that bob should succeed in carrying out his plans. he wanted to get possession of the burton ranch, and force mrs. burton to take him for her second husband. most of all, perhaps, he wanted to humble the pride of "the burton boy," as he styled bob, for he cordially hated him, and was well aware that bob disliked and despised him. if he could only bring about the failure of bob's trip, and the loss of his cargo, he would have both bob and his mother in his power. wolverton had been anxiously awaiting intelligence from his agents, and the postmaster was somewhat surprised at his numerous visits to the office for letters. at length, one morning, aaron wolverton's patience was rewarded. a letter was handed him, directed in an almost illegible scrawl to mr. a. wolverton, esq. it was written by brown, who was by no means an accomplished scholar. wolverton opened it eagerly, and read the following lines: mr. wolverton: i write you these few lines from rocky creek. i am pleased to say we have got the bote, and are jest starting for st. louis with the cargo onbord. if you want to know about the boys, bob burton and the little nigger are locked up in a house in the village belonging to one of my friends, and they won't be let out till it is perfecly saif. we got hold of them by a nise trick. i haven't time to tell you about it now, but when we meat, you shall kno all. send that fifty dollars to mr. j. brown, st. louis post office. don't forget! this is important. yours to command, j. brown. this letter, ill-spelled as it was, seemed to give aaron wolverton unbounded satisfaction. a gratified smile overspread his face, and he said to himself: "that will bring down the burton pride. that young whipper-snapper will come home with a few less airs than when he set out. the chances are that he'll have to walk home or buy a passage." wolverton chuckled at this agreeable thought. he would be revenged upon poor bob for all the mortifications to which the boy had subjected him: and, to a man of wolverton's temperament, revenge was sweet. "you have received good news, mr. wolverton," said the postmaster, observing the land agent's evident glee. "what makes you think so?" asked wolverton, cautiously. "i judged from your smiling face." "it wasn't the letter. i was thinking of something." "that is only a blind," thought the postmaster. "i saw his face light up when he read the letter. let me see; it was mailed from rocky creek. i will bear that in mind, and some day i may discover the secret." as wolverton picked his way through the mud from the post-office to his office, he fell in with mrs. burton, who had come to the village on business. he smiled to himself, and prepared to accost her. "i hope i see you well, mrs. burton," he said, with gravity. "very well, thank you, mr. wolverton," answered the widow, coldly. "what do you hear from your son?" "i received a letter yesterday. all was going well with him." "i am really glad to hear it," said wolverton, with a queer smile. "still you must remember that 'there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.'" "what do you mean, mr. wolverton?" asked mrs. burton, quickly. "what should i mean?" said wolverton, in apparent surprise. "have you heard any bad news of robert?" "oh, dear, no! i am sorry to say that your son is prejudiced against me, and would hardly favor me with any letter." mrs. burton looked relieved. "i was only warning you on general principles. 'let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall,' as the scriptures have it." "thank you for the caution," said mrs. burton, dryly. "by the way, have you heard anything of your nephew, sam?" wolverton's face darkened. "no," he answered. "i did think, i confess, that he might have run away with bob, but i don't think so now." "if he did, i know nothing of it." this was true. for obvious reasons, bob had not taken his mother into his confidence on this subject. "the boy has shown base ingratitude to me," continued wolverton, bitterly. "i cared for him and kept him from starving, and how has he rewarded me?" "if his home was so agreeable as you represent, it is certainly surprising that he should have left you. good-morning, mr. wolverton." "what did she mean?" wolverton asked himself. "some of her sarcasm, i suppose. when she becomes mrs. wolverton, i will get even with her." as nothing had been said of sam in the letter of his confidential agent, wolverton no longer suspected that he had gone down the river with bob burton. on the whole, as he had sam's property in his possession, he did not care whether the boy ever returned, except that he would have liked to give him a good flogging. chapter xxxv. bob's arrival in st. louis. meanwhile bob and clip were steaming rapidly down the river. now that he was pretty sure of recovering his boat and cargo, bob gave himself up to the enjoyment of the trip, and was fain to confess that he enjoyed it better than working his passage on the ferry-boat. as for maud, she seemed to feel as much confidence in our hero as if she had known him all her life. she seemed also to appreciate clip, but in a different way. "you're a funny boy!" she said. "yah, yah, little missy!" laughed clip. "where's your mother?" "dunno, missy! i expect she dead." "my mamma's dead, too. she's in heaven. is your mamma there too?" "s'pect so, little missy." bob questioned the little girl as to the manner of her abduction. he learned that she had been carried off from the street in which she lived by brown, who secured her consent by a promise of candy. then she was put into a carriage, and given something to drink. when she woke up she was on a river steamer, being landed at length at the place where bob found her. "did my papa send you for me?" she asked. "no, maud," answered bob, "but i heard you had been stolen, and i determined to carry you back, if i could." "on what street does your father live?" asked bob, later. "on laclede avenue." "can you tell me the number?" this also maud was able to tell. at the first stopping-place, after he had obtained this information, bob, appreciating the anxiety of maud's friends, telegraphed her father as follows: i have discovered your little daughter, and am on my way to the city with her. she was taken to rocky creek, and confined there. our steamer--the gazelle--will probably arrive at her wharf to-morrow morning. robert burton. when this telegram was received, mr. pearson was suffering deep grief and anxiety; but the message comforted him not a little. when the steamer reached the pier, a middle-aged man of medium size and dark complexion was waiting on the wharf. "that's my papa!" exclaimed maud, clapping her hands; and the little girl danced on the deck in her joy. in a moment she was in the arms of her father. "my darling maud?" he exclaimed, caressing her fondly. "thank heaven i have you back again! where is mr. burton?" "my name is robert burton," said bob, modestly. "what, a boy!" exclaimed mr. pearson, in amazement. "i supposed the person who telegraphed me was a man." "he's a nice boy," said maud, putting her hand confidingly in bob's. "i am sure of it," said mr. pearson, cordially, grasping the hand of our hero. "and _he's_ a funny boy," continued maud, pointing out clip. "yah, yah!" laughed clip, with a broad grin on his shining face. "clip is a companion of mine," explained bob, "and we came down the river together." "i am glad to make your acquaintance, mr. clip," said mr. pearson, smiling, and taking clip by the hand. "yah, yah!" laughed the delighted clip. "now, boys," said mr. pearson, as they passed over the gang-plank and set foot upon the wharf, "i shall take you both home with me. i have not yet had an opportunity of asking questions about how you came to find my dear child, and rescue her from her terrible captivity. there stands my carriage. get in, both of you, and we will go to my home at once." it was a strange sensation to clip to find himself riding in a hansom carriage, the favored guest of the wealthy proprietor. he was not sure whether he were awake or dreaming. they drove rapidly for perhaps a couple of miles, and then stopped in front of an elegant mansion in the upper part of laclede avenue. the two boys never expected to enter st. louis in such grand style. chapter xxxvi. a thousand dollars reward. a little awed by the splendid appointments of the merchant's house, bob and clip entered, following mr. pearson. a stout, pleasant-looking woman of middle age--the housekeeper--appeared at the door of a side room. she darted forward, and clasped maud in a fond embrace. "my darling maud, how glad i am to see you back!" she said. "i thought we had lost you." "this is the young man who rescued maud, margaret," said mr. pearson, pointing to bob. "and _he_ so young! i must kiss him, too!" said margaret; and, considerably to our hero's embarrassment, margaret gave him a resounding kiss. "this boy also assisted," said mr. pearson, indicating clip, with a smile. margaret hesitated a moment--she was not quite prepared to kiss a colored boy--but compromised by shaking his hand cordially. "you look like a nice boy, clip," she said. "so i is, missus; yah, yah!" responded clip, laughing. "now, margaret, can you give us something to eat?" said mr. pearson. "it's all ready, sir. i thought you and miss maud would be hungry." "i suspect we are all hungry," said mr. pearson, leading the way into a handsome dining-room. "now, boys, take your seats," he said. clip felt a little awkward, for he was not used to being a guest at a rich man's table, but he did not allow his bashfulness to interfere with the gratification of an excellent appetite. when the meal was over, mr. pearson invited the boys into his library, and seated himself at a desk. he drew a check-book from a drawer and wrote for a minute. then he tore off a check, and handed it to bob. "this is the reward i offered for the return of my dear daughter," he said. "i have made the check payable to your order." bob took it and read as follows: "first national bank, "pay to the order of robert burton, one thousand dollars. "$ . john pearson." "i don't like to take this large sum, mr. pearson," said bob. "i did not rescue your daughter for money." "i am quite aware of that, my dear boy, but it is a pleasure for me to give you this proof of my gratitude. i am sure you will spend it creditably." "i shall find it very useful, sir; and i thank you sincerely. may i ask if you do not deal in wheat?" "that is a part of my business." "i shall have about fourteen hundred bushels to dispose of if i recover my boat." "i will give you two dollars and a quarter a bushel, if it is in good condition." "i accept, sir," answered bob, promptly. "now, may i ask your advice as to how to proceed to regain possession of the boat?" "when do you expect it to arrive?" asked the merchant. "probably not till to-morrow, but i can't guess at what part of the day. it depends on how well the thieves succeed in managing the boat." "i will order my carriage and drive round with you to the central police office. the police will take proper measures to recover the boat and arrest the rascals who robbed you of it." "won't it be too much trouble, sir?" "i shall not count it a trouble, for i shall at the same time be punishing the men who abducted my dear maud. they will be tried for both offenses, and will probably get a long term of imprisonment." in an hour information had been lodged at the central police office, and orders had been given to watch the river, and to keep a good lookout for the boat, of which bob furnished a description. that night bob and clip slept at mr. pearson's house, being treated as honored guests. chapter xxxvii. brown and minton walk into a trap. little suspecting the reception awaiting them in st. louis, minton and brown were laboriously guiding their stolen craft down the river. not being accustomed to labor of any sort, they found the confinement irksome, but the prize for which they were striving was so large that they took it very good-humoredly. they whiled away the time by indulging in visions of future ease and prosperity, and in exchanging witticisms at the expense of bob, the youthful owner of the boat. "i wonder how the young captain is enjoying himself," said minton, as he lay back, with one of the bins for a support, while puffing at a choice cigar. "he is ready to tear his hair out, i presume," said brown. "he's a conceited young popinjay, and deserves to have his pride taken down." "you're right there, brown. we shall make a tidy sum out of our venture." "yes; we can afford to retire for a time. of course i shall want more than half." "i don't see that," said minton, quickly. "why, man, i've done all the headwork. what have you done to compare with me?" "we are equal partners," said minton, doggedly. "that is where you are mistaken. i don't mind, though, giving you half of what we get for the girl." "how shall we arrange to get anything? it is rather a ticklish business--" "that's where the headwork comes in. i shall wait upon old pearson, and tell him that i have a clew, and suspect i know who abducted the child. then i'll work him up to a point where he'll shell out liberally." "won't there be risk?" "how can there be? leave the thing to me and i'll arrange it. the fact is, minton, you are a man of no ideas. if i depended on you, you wouldn't make a cent out of one of the neatest jobs i've ever been concerned in." minton was conscious that there was some truth in this, and it helped to reconcile him to the evident determination of his companion to appropriate the lion's share of the fruits of their questionable enterprises. "i suppose joe's all right?" he said, after a pause. "of course he is. what would he make by proving false to us?" "nothing, that i can see. still, if he should do so, it might upset our plans. the boy could afford to pay him well for releasing him." "that is true," returned brown, thoughtfully. "on all accounts it will be necessary for us to expedite matters. i sha'n't waste any time once we are in st. louis." "you mean in disposing of the cargo?" "precisely. i am in no position to haggle about prices. i'll offer it at a bargain to some large dealer. he will naturally think i'm a country gentleman, and clinch the bargain at once. do you see?" "yes, brown. you've got the right idea." "of course i have," said brown, complacently. "it takes a long head to outwit me. got another cigar, minton?" minton drew out one and handed to his confederate, and presently took his turn at the rudder. so time passed, the boat making good progress, and about three o'clock in the afternoon the boat reached an obscure pier in the lower part of st. louis. there were some interested persons watching its arrival. among them were bob and his friend clip, and a small squad of policemen. not suspecting anything, brown and minton busied themselves in bringing the boat to anchor. meanwhile bob, without being observed, stepped aboard. "good afternoon, mr. brown! i hope you had a pleasant trip," he said, quietly. brown felt as if he had been struck by lightning. wheeling around suddenly, he saw bob's eyes fixed upon him. he was absolutely speechless with amazement and consternation. "who are you?" he finally ejaculated, quickly resolving to brazen it out, and deny bob's claim to ownership. "i think you know me, mr. brown!" replied bob. "i have only to thank you for taking charge of my boat and bringing it safe to st. louis." "look here, young feller!" said brown, roughly, "you must be crazy. i never saw you before in my life, and here you come on board my boat and claim it as your own. if you don't clear out i'll have you arrested." "there will be no difficulty about that, mr. brown. here are policemen close at hand." mr. brown's face grew pale as he saw three stalwart policemen marching on board the boat. "i guess it's all up, minton!" he said, and made a dash for liberty; but he was not quick enough. he and minton were quickly secured and marched off, with handcuffs on their wrists. as we are now to bid these gentlemen farewell, it may be said briefly that they pleaded guilty in hopes of a lighter sentence, and were sent to prison for seven years. thus far the community has been able to spare them without inconvenience. bob and clip resumed charge of the boat, and during the next day disposed of the cargo to mr. pearson at the price agreed upon. chapter xxxviii. what bob brought home. after disposing of his cargo, bob was puzzled to know what to do with the ferry-boat. finally he had an offer of one hundred dollars, from a speculative yankee who had drifted out to st. louis, and gladly accepted it. this sum paid all expenses, including his and clip's return fare, and left him with a handsome sum to his credit, viz.: , bushels wheat, at $ . , $ , reward, , ------ $ , this sum, with the exception of one hundred and fifty dollars, by advice of mr. pearson, he deposited in a st. louis bank, and then started for home. he could not make the whole passage by steamer, but went part way by railroad, and then engaged a carriage to a point four miles from home. thence he and clip walked. he wanted to surprise not only his mother, but wolverton. he knew now that brown and minton had only been agents of his more crafty enemy, brown having made a written confession, not so much out of friendship to bob as out of spite against wolverton, whom he held responsible for getting him into this scrape. with soiled shoes and clothes covered with dust, bob and clip entered the village, and purposely walked by wolverton's office. the latter, spying them through the window, smiled maliciously, and hurried out to meet them. "aha, my young friends," he said, with a pleased glance at their soiled clothes, "so you have returned?" "yes, sir," answered bob, soberly. "and what luck did you have, may i ask?" "we had good luck at first, but at rocky creek two rascals entrapped us, and stole our boat and cargo." wolverton laughed outright. so it was true, after all. "excuse my smiling," he said; "but you seem to have come out at the little end of the horn." "it does seem so, sir." "you remember what i told you before you started?" "what was that?" "that you were too young for such an expedition. it would have been much better for you to accept my offer." "it seems so," answered bob again. "seems so! of course it would have been. but the trouble was, you were so puffed up by your own self-conceit that you thought you knew best." "i plead guilty to that, sir; i did think so," answered bob, candidly. "i am glad you admit it. so you had to walk back?" "you can judge for yourself, mr. wolverton." "well, you certainly do look like two tramps. the next time you may feel like following my advice." "i may," answered bob. it did occur to mr. wolverton that bob's answers were rather unusual, and his manner rather queer; quite unlike his usual tone and manner. but this he readily accounted for. the boy's pride had been humbled. he knew now that he was in wolverton's power, and he had the sense to be humble, in the hope of making better terms. "but it won't do," said the agent to himself. "he will find that i will have what is mine, and he cannot soften my heart by any appeal to my pity." "it appears to me you are in rather a scrape," he said, after a pause. "how is that." "why, a part of your mortgage comes due in a short time. i hope you don't expect me to wait." "no doubt you will be considerate, mr. wolverton, remembering what luck we have had." "no, i won't!" snarled wolverton. "don't flatter yourself so far. i am not responsible for your misfortune, or folly, as i call it." "still, mr. wolverton--" "oh, it's no use to talk!" continued the agent, raising his hand impatiently. "you have been a fool, and you must suffer the penalty of your folly." "has sam got back, mr. wolverton?" asked bob, changing the subject, rather to mr. wolverton's surprise. "no; have you seen him?" asked the agent, eagerly. "yes, sir." "where?" asked wolverton, quickly. "the fact is, we discovered him on our boat soon after we started." "you did!" ejaculated the agent, his eyes almost starting out of his head. "why didn't you send him back?" "because he said you didn't treat him well, and begged to stay." "young man, do you know i could have you arrested for abducting my nephew?" demanded wolverton, angrily. "was it my fault that he hid himself on my boat?" "where is he now?" asked wolverton, abruptly. "he left the boat at a point on the way." "where was it?" "you must excuse my answering that question. sam wouldn't like it." "what difference does that make?" "sam is my friend. i think, however, you will soon know, as he means to come back." wolverton smiled triumphantly. "i shall be glad to see him," he said, significantly. bob knew what that meant. "you must excuse me now, mr. wolverton," said bob. "i must hurry home, as mother will be anxious to see me." "tell her i shall call very soon--on business." "i will." when they were out of hearing the boys laughed in amusement. they had a surprise in store for wolverton. chapter xxxix. conclusion. there was another arrival at burton's ranch the next day. sam wolverton came in charge of his new-found relative, robert granger. they took a carriage, and reached the ranch without attracting the attention of aaron wolverton. mrs. burton welcomed her visitors, and expressed great pleasure at the discovery that sam's fortunes were likely to be improved. mr. granger proposed to make a call upon the faithless guardian, but was saved the necessity, as mr. wolverton called early in the afternoon of the same day. he was in a hurry to show his power, and foreclose the mortgage. it was arranged that sam and mr. granger should remain out of sight at first. robert answered the knock at the door. "is your mother at home?" asked wolverton. "yes, sir; will you walk in?" "i believe i will." he entered the sitting-room, and mrs. burton soon made her appearance. "i see your son has returned, widder," remarked the agent. "yes; it seems pleasant to have him back. i missed him greatly." "humph! i s'pose so. it's a pity he went at all." "i don't know that." "why, it stands to reason," said wolverton, impatiently. "he went on a fool's errand." "what makes you say that?" "he might have known a boy like him couldn't succeed in such an enterprise. if he had taken up with my offer, he would have been all right." "he said you offered him much less than the market price." "and so he started off to do better, and lost his whole cargo," sneered wolverton, smiling unpleasantly. mrs. burton was silent. "i came to tell you that i should require not only the interest, but a payment of half the mortgage, according to the conditions. it is due next saturday." "won't you wait, under the circumstances, mr. wolverton?" "no; i will not." "do you think that is kind?" asked mrs. burton. "kindness is kindness, and business is business, mrs. burton. still, i am willing to spare you on one condition." "what is that?" "that you become mrs. wolverton." mrs. burton made a gesture of repulsion. "that is entirely out of the question," she said. "then i shall show no mercy." mrs. burton went to the door and called "robert." bob entered. "mr. wolverton demands his interest and the payment of half the mortgage, according to the terms." "it is not due yet." "it will be, next saturday," said the agent, triumphantly. "and i won't listen to any palaver or any entreaties to put off the payment. as you have made your bed you can lie upon it." "what do you propose to do if we don't pay?" asked bob. "foreclose the mortgage!" exclaimed the agent, bringing down his fist upon the table before him. "in that case, i think, mother, we will pay," said bob, quietly. "you can't pay!" snarled wolverton. "that is where you are mistaken, mr. wolverton. i will not only pay what you ask, but i am ready to take up the whole mortgage." "is the boy crazy?" ejaculated wolverton. "not that i am aware of," answered bob, smiling. "you haven't got the money." "mistaken again, mr. wolverton." "when did you get it?" gasped wolverton. "wasn't your cargo stolen?" "yes, by emissaries of yours!" was bob's unexpected reply; "but i recovered it, and sold the grain for two dollars and a quarter a bushel." "you recovered it?" said wolverton, turning pale. "yes; and the men that stole it are now in jail. i have a letter from one of them, declaring that he was employed by you." "it's a lie!" hastily exclaimed the agent; but he looked frightened. "i have reason to believe it is true. mr. wolverton, your base conspiracy failed." "i guess i'll go," said wolverton, rising. he wanted time to think. "not just yet! here are two persons who wish to see you"; and, to wolverton's surprise, sam and robert granger entered the room. "you didn't expect to see me, aaron wolverton," said captain granger. "i have come here with your nephew to demand restitution of the property which you have appropriated to your own use, giving him to understand that he was living on charity." wolverton looked like a man in a state of collapse. he didn't dare to deny what he knew captain granger would have no difficulty in proving. he glared at sam as if he would like to have him in his power for a short time. "are you coming back with me?" he asked. "i will answer for him," said captain granger. "sam is of an age when the law authorizes him to select his own guardian. i have accepted the trust, and i demand the transfer of his property to me." if there had been any chance of success, wolverton would have contested the matter, and, as it was, he interposed all the obstacles in his power. finally, sam got his own, however, much to wolverton's disappointment. ---- five years have passed. the mortgage on burton's ranch has long since been paid, and bob is making a handsome profit every year for his mother and himself. clip is still a member of the family, and, though he cannot be called a model of industry, he is a favorite through his good nature and love of fun. he is thoroughly loyal to the burtons, and hates wolverton as much as it is in his nature to hate anybody. wolverton is getting worse in temper as he grows older, and his ill-gotten gains do not bring him happiness. the sight of bob's prosperity is gall and wormwood to him; but for this bob cares little. sam is employed in a store under his new guardian's charge, but every summer he comes to burton's ranch and stays a month, where he, bob, and clip have fine times. mrs. burton is happy in her prosperity, and is thankful to god for having given her so good a son. bob has made more than one trip down the river, but none so eventful as the one described in this story. the end. the famous castlemon books. by harry castlemon. [illustration: specimen cover of the gunboat series.] no author of the present day has become a greater favorite with boys than "harry castlemon;" every book by him is sure to meet with hearty reception by young readers generally. his naturalness and vivacity lead his readers from page to page with breathless interest, and when one volume is finished the fascinated reader, like oliver twist, asks "for more." any volume sold separately. +gunboat series.+ by harry castlemon. vols., mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +frank, the young naturalist+ +frank in the woods+ +frank on the prairie+ +frank on a gunboat+ +frank before vicksburg+ +frank on the lower mississippi+ +go ahead series.+ by harry castlemon. vols., mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +go ahead+; or, the fisher boy's motto +no moss+; or, the career of a rolling stone +tom newcombe+; or, the boy of bad habits +rocky mountain series.+ by harry castlemon. vols., mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +frank at don carlos' rancho+ +frank among the rancheros+ +frank in the mountains+ +sportsman's club series.+ by harry castlemon. vols., mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +the sportsman's club in the saddle+ +the sportsman's club afloat+ +the sportsman's club among the trappers+ +frank nelson series.+ by harry castlemon. vols. mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +snowed up+; or, the sportsman's club in the mts. +frank nelson in the forecastle+; or, the sportsman's club among the whalers +the boy traders+; or, the sportsman's club among the boers +boy trapper series.+ by harry castlemon. vols., mo. fully illustrated. cloth, extra, printed in colors. in box $ +the buried treasure+; or, old jordan's "haunt" +the boy trapper+; or, how dave filled the order +the mail carrier+ aldarondo, charles franks and the online distributed proofreading team. the boy ranchers on the trail or _the diamond x after cattle rustlers_ by willard f. baker contents i the round-up ii a curious instrument iii startling news iv the scratched safe v the broken bottle vi missing steers vii four eyes viii throwing the rope ix the fire x serious questions xi the watch tower xii in spite of all xiii the signal xiv four eyes-no eyes xv a big raid xvi on the trail xvii wild country xviii the boiling spring xix in a maze xx a surprise xxi in pursuit xxii bud's discovery xxiii the fight xxiv a desperate chance xxv lieutenant wayne the boy ranchers on the trail chapter i the round-up "come on, nort! it's your turn to cut out the next one!" "s'pose i make a mux of it, bud!" "shucks! you won't do that! you've roped a calf before!" "yes, but not at a big round-up like this. if i make a fizzle the fellows will give me the laugh!" "what if they do? everybody knows you haven't been at it long, and you've got to make a start. besides, anybody's likely to make a mistake. that's why they put rubbers on the ends of pencils. ride in now and snake out the next one, nort!" "all right, bud! here goes!" blaze, the pony nort shannon was riding toward the bunch of cattle gathered at diamond x ranch for the big, spring round-up, leaped forward at the sound of his master's voice, and in response to the little jerk of the reins and the clap of heels against his sides. into the herd of milling, turning and twisting cattle the intelligent animal made his way, needing hardly any guidance from nort. the lad, by a mere touch, corrected the course of blaze slightly, and in a moment he was heading for a calf which bawled loudly. "get him, nort!" cried a voice from among the cowboys looking on. "don't get me fussed, dick!" nort shouted back to his brother, who sat astride his pony near bud merkle. "it'll be your turn next!" into the herd he wormed his way on blaze, dodging here and there, but with his eyes ever on the calf he hoped to cut out so it could be branded. nort leaned forward in his saddle, and then his cousin and brother, eagerly watching from outside the herd, saw the boy rancher's hand shoot up. through the air the rope went, turning, twisting, writhing and uncoiling like a snake. in an instant it had flipped around the hind legs of a calf. "good!" yelled dick. "even babe couldn't 'a' done better!" complimented bud, enthusiastically. "'tisn't over yet!" gasped nort, for he had hard work ahead of him, and the dust raised by thousands of hoofs was choking. "wait 'till i get it to the branding corral!" he leaned over in his other stirrup, causing the lariat to pull taut and, the next instant the calf flopped on its side. "snake him out, blaze!" cried nort to his pony, and the animal turned and dragged the prostrate calf along over the ground, an operation not as cruel as it sounds as the surface was inches thick in soft dust, like flour. "that's the boy, nort!" called his cousin bud. "i knew you could do it! now then, dick! let's see how you'll make out!" "i can't throw a rope as good as nort," answered the stouter lad, as he urged his pony, blackie, into the herd. "but here goes!" meanwhile nort had dragged the calf he had cut out to the corral where the branding was going on. two cowboys, stationed there for the purpose, leaped forward and threw the calf over on its side, for it had managed to struggle to its feet when nort ceased dragging it. one man twisted a front leg of the struggling creature back in a hammerlock and knelt on its neck. the other took hold of the upper hind leg, and with this hold prevented the calf from sprawling along on the ground. "sit on him!" called mr. merkel, owner of diamond x and other ranches. he was superintending the round-up of his herds and those entrusted to bud, nort and dick in the first business venture of the boy ranchers. "sit on him!" yelled bud's father. accordingly the men sat on the calf, thus, with the holds they had secured, keeping it under restraint with the least possible pain to the small creature. "branding iron!" sang out slim degnan, foreman of the ranch. a little blaze was flickering on the ground, not far from where the calf nort had cut out was thrown and held. in a moment the fire-tender had seized the branding iron, and, a second or two later, it was being pressed on the calf's flank. the creature bawled loudly, and kicked out, thereby nearly throwing off the men who were sitting on it. but the branding was all over in a moment, and the men leaped up, releasing the animal. the calf stood, dazed for the time being, after it had scrambled to its feet, and then trotted out of the corral, lashing its side with its little tail. plainly branded on it now, never to be completely effaced, was the mark of the ownership of mr. merkel--an x inside a diamond. "next!" called the branders: "here comes dick!" shouted bud, as nort rode up beside him. "and he got his calf!" "good!" exclaimed the brother. "i guess we're learning the business!" "surest thing you know!" asserted the son of the owner of diamond x. "i told you it wasn't so hard, and you've done the same thing before." "but not at such a big round-up," remarked nort, as he prepared to ride in again and cut out another calf. "yes, it is big," admitted bud, as he made ready for his share in the affair--his task being the same as that of his cousins--to cut out the calves for branding purposes. "it sure is a big round-up." it had been in progress for days. twice a year on the big, western ranches, the cattle are driven in from the outlying ranges, to be tallied, inspected, marked and shipped away. the spring and fall round-ups are always busy seasons at any ranch. during the times between round-ups the new calves attained their growth, but they needed to have branded into their hides the marks of their owners. then, too, some yearlings escaped branding at times, either by remaining out of sight at the round-up, or in the attending confusion. unbranded calves who had partly attained their growth, were termed "mavericks," and when the herds of different owners mingled, there was, usually, a division of the mavericks, since it could not be accurately told who owned them. the title maverick was derived from a stock man of that name, whose practice was to claim _all_ unbranded calves in a herd. his cowboys would ride about, cutting out the unmarked animals, with the cool statement: "that's a maverick," meaning that it belonged to their "boss." and so the name has commonly become associated with any half-grown, unbranded calf. mr. merkel was the owner of several ranches, square m, triangle b and diamond x, not to mention diamond x second, or flume valley, of which his son bud, and the latter's cousins, norton and richard shannon, were the nominal proprietors. the cattle from flume valley, or "happy valley" as bud called it after the mystery of the underground water was solved, were in the round-up with the others from his father's ranches. for days preceding the lively doings i have just described, the cowboys, called in from distant ranges, had driven the cattle toward the central assembling point--the corrals at diamond x. slowly the longhorns, the shorthorns and cattle with no horns at all, had been "hazed" in from their feeding grounds toward diamond x. the cow punchers had galloped hard all day, and they had ridden herd at night, to keep the animals from straying. at night this was not so hard, for the animals were glad to rest during the darkness. but during the day there was always some steer--often more than one--that wanted to run away from the herd. as this might start a stampede it was necessary to drive the "striker" back, and this was, often enough, a difficult task. bud, nort and dick had borne their share of this difficult round-up task, and now, when the thousand or more of steers, calves and mavericks had been gathered at diamond x, the work of tallying them, branding those that were without marks and shipping away the best was well under way. in and out of the herd rode the boy ranchers, doing their best alongside of more seasoned "punchers." calves were cut out, thrown and branded, to be quickly released and again mingle with the herd. "oh, i'm captain jinks, of the horse marines!" one of the cowboys, wiping the dust and sweat from his face, with his big, red silk handkerchief, or, rather, neckerchief, started this song. it was taken up by half a score of loud voices. "yi-yippy!" came in stentorian tones from yellin' kid. "this is the life!" but as, just then, his pony slipped and he missed the throw he made for a calf, it is doubtful if yellin' kid felt as gay as he sounded. "hot work; eh, boys?" asked mr. merkel, when dick, nort and bud rode past to get drinks of water. "but it's great, all the same!" answered dick, with shining eyes--eyes that gleamed amid a face dark with the tan of the western sun and grimy with the dust of the western plains. "glad you like it!" commented the proprietor of diamond x as he kept on with his tallying. "how they coming, slim?" he asked his foreman. "couldn't be better! old buck tooth is doing a heap sight more than i ever dreamed a zuni could." "bud said that his old indian helper was up to snuff!" commented mr. merkel. "i'm glad to know it. heard anything from double z?" he asked, and there was an anxious note in his voice. "no, hank and his gang seem to have quieted down after what i told 'em!" "well, i hope he doesn't make trouble for bud and the boys. they're going back to happy valley to-night." "so i understand. oh, shucks! don't worry about hank! he's all talk--he and that blustery foreman of his, ike johnson!" there had been a dispute between the cowboys of diamond x and those of double z, a ranch owned by the notorious hank fisher, a few days before the round-up, the subject of dispute being the ownership of certain mavericks. it had ended with the triumph of slim degnan, foreman of mr. merkel's holdings. and so the round-up went on, the heat, the dust, the noise and confusion increasing as calf after calf, maverick after maverick, was branded, and the steers to be shipped were cut out, to be hazed over to the railroad stock yards. and yet, with all the seeming confusion, there was order and system in the work. "well, i guess this is the last," remarked mr. merkel to his son, as bud, with his cousins, rode slowly up to the ranch house, when the final calf had been cut out and the tally made. "you boys going back after grub?" "yep," answered bud, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. he, like his cousins, was too tired. for the day had been a grueling one, with the heat and hard work. "you sure did make out a whole lot better than i ever thought you would," said mr. merkel, as he rode along with his son and nephew's. "putting water into that valley made a big difference." "i should say so!" exclaimed bud. "our stock will lay over anything you will ship from any of your three ranches, dad!" "i wouldn't wonder but what you are right, bud! well, let's wash up and eat." one by one the cowboys drifted in, some singing ranch songs in spite of their weariness. bud and his cousins were through with their meal first, and, having persuaded his sister, nell, to pack a basket of doughnuts, pie and cheese for him, bud signalled to his cousins to join him out at the pony corral. "let's get an early start back to happy valley," he urged. "it's a long enough ride, anyhow." "you said it!" commented nort. "well, there's one thing we don't have to worry about, and that is not finding any water running into the reservoir," added dick, as he slipped in through the gate and caught one of his ponies--not blackie, who was tired out from the round-up. each cow puncher, including the boy ranchers, had several animals in his "string." "no, i guess, since we solved the mystery of the water supply, we'll have no more trouble," agreed bud. the boy ranchers rode over the trail to their own camp--it was actually a camp, for permanent ranch buildings had not yet been erected in happy valley, though some were projected. tents formed the abiding place of our heroes, and as they were only there during the summer months the canvas shelters served very well, indeed. the moon rose, shining down from a starlit sky, as the rough but faithful and sturdy cow ponies ambled along. now the boy ranchers would be down in some swale, or valley, and again topping one of the foothills which led to buffalo ridge or snake mountain, between which elevations lay happy valley, where the cattle of diamond x second were quartered. "there she is--the old camp," murmured dick, as they started down the slope which led to the collection of tents erected against the earthen and stone bank of the reservoir. "and maybe i won't hit the hay!" exclaimed bud, with a yawn. "we don't have to get up to-morrow until we're ready." "oh, boy!" cried nort in delight. they rode forward, and were almost at their camp when bud, who had trotted ahead, pulled his pony to a sudden stop and cried out: "hold on there! who are you and where are you going?" at the same moment his cousins saw the moon gleaming on the . gun which bud drew from his holster. chapter ii a curious instrument "what's the matter, bud?" asked dick, as he urged his animal forward in a jump, until he was beside his cousin. "some one's up there around the tunnel entrance," responded bud merkel. "i saw 'em dodge back out of the light." then, raising his voice, he cried: "come on, now! none of your tricks! i've got you covered!" "i don't see any one," spoke nort. "they're there, all right," asserted bud. "come on, fellows," he exclaimed, "we'll have to look into this. there was trouble enough with getting water to stay in happy valley, without letting some greaser in to queer the works again! come on!" he and his cousins rode their horses up the rather steep and winding trail that led from the bottom of the reservoir to the top, where a big iron pipe, sticking out under the mountain like the head of some great serpent, brought from the distant pocut river a stream, without which it would have been impossible to raise cattle in the valley the boy ranchers claimed as particularly their own. "who you reckon it is?" asked nort, as his pony scrambled up between the animals of dick and bud. "oh, some prowler that may have been rustling our grub while we were over at the round-up," was the answer. "they couldn't get any cattle, for there aren't any to get," observed dick. this was true, as all the animals had been driven from happy valley over to diamond x. later such as were not shipped away, and many of the calves and mavericks would be returned to fatten up and grow in readiness for the spring tallying. "i don't just like this!" murmured bud, as he again urged his pony forward. "have your guns ready, fellows!" and while they are thus riding toward the place where a strange tunnel pierced snake mountain, i shall take this opportunity to present, more formally than i have yet had a chance to do, my new readers to the boy ranchers. for that is what bud merkel, and nort and dick shannon called themselves, being that, in fact. bud was a western lad, the son of henry merkel, who had been a ranchman all his mature years. he lived at diamond x ranch, with his wife and daughter nell. some time before this present story opens bud's cousins from the east had come to spend the summer with him, while their father and his wife made a trip to south america. nort and dick, though "tenderfeet" at the beginning, had quickly fallen into the ways of the west, and in the first volume of this series, "the boy ranchers," i was privileged to tell you how they helped solve a mystery that revolved around diamond x. this mystery had to do with two college professors, and a strange, ancient animal. but it would not be fair to my new readers to disclose, here, all the secrets of that book. so successful was the first summer which nort and dick spent at their uncle's ranch, that they were allowed to repeat it the following season. but this time there was a change. as related in the second volume, "the boy ranchers in camp," mr. merkel had, by utilizing an ancient underground water-course beneath snake mountain, and by making a dam in pocut river, brought water to a distant valley he owned. this valley was originally called buffalo wallow, the source of the name being obvious. but once water was brought through the underground course, and piped to a reservoir, whence it could be distributed to drinking troughs for the cattle, and also used to irrigate the land, it enabled a fine crop of fodder to be grown. with the bringing of the water to buffalo wallow, or flume valley, as bud called the place, it was possible to do what had never been done before--raise cattle there. bud's father let him take this valley ranch as his own, and nort and dick were boy partners associated with their western cousin, mr. shannon putting up part of the needed capital to make the start for his sons. all would have gone well except for the mysterious stoppage of the flow of water, which stoppage, if continued, would mean disaster. how the water fight at diamond x second (as the valley ranch was sometimes called) ended, and how the strange mystery was solved, is the story in the second volume, and i absolutely refuse to go into more details about it here. it would not be playing the game square. at any rate the water was finally turned back into the underground tunnel, and then, in order to better guard this vital necessity, mr. merkel had the entrance to the tunnel boarded up--egress being possible only when heavy doors, at either end, were unlocked. i might say that while the tunnel was the old water-course of a vanished river, the shaft under the mountain appeared, in. ancient times, to have been used by the aztecs, or some mexican tribes, for hiding their store of gold away from the spaniards. there were secret passages and rooms in the tunnel, to say nothing of hidden water gates. who had constructed these, and what actual use had been made of them was, of course, lost in the dim and ancient past. but that it was the aztecs, or some allied race, was the statement of learned men who examined the tunnel. after the water fight at diamond x second had terminated in favor of the boy ranchers, and great copper levers that operated the hidden water gates had been removed, the tunnel was boarded up, and was now seldom entered. but now, as bud and his cousins rode back from the big round-up, and the western lad had, as he thought, seen some one sneaking about the forbidden gate, there was a feeling of apprehension in the hearts of himself and cousins. they had now reached the top level of the reservoir which held a storage supply of water. the reservoir was a great semi-circular bank of earth and atones, wide enough on top for two to ride abreast. "i don't see any one," remarked nort, straining his eyes to pierce the gloom and shadows into which the face of the tunnel and the locked gate were thrown by the moonlight and clouds. "nor i," added dick. "well, i saw some one!" insisted bud. "it was a man, as sure as snakes, and he seemed to be trying to open the big gate." this gate was made of heavy bolted planks and was set on hinges in a jamb of other planks and boards that closed the reservoir end of the tunnel water-course. a similar barrier and big door was at the pocut river end. "well, if he was here, he seems to be gone," observed nort "maybe it was a sheep herder, bud." "well, if any of that gentry think they can drive their flock over here, and water their woolies at my expense, they're mistaken," declared bud with emphasis. "sheep men have to be, i reckon, but they're out of place in a cow country. hello, there!" he called, loudly. "come on out and show yourself!" but there was no answer, and the only sound, aside from the creaking of the damp saddle leathers, was the splashing of water as it flowed from the big pipe and into the reservoir. "guess he lit out," observed bud, thrusting his gun back into the holster. "or else you didn't see him," chuckled nort. "maybe your eyes are full of dust, same as mine are, from that round-up." "oh, i saw somebody all right!" declared bud. "might 'a' been one of buck tooth's indian friends making a call, but--" he suddenly ceased speaking and leaned over in his saddle to gaze earnestly at something on the ground. it was something that glittered and shone in the mystic moonlight as nort and dick could see. "what's that?" inquired the latter. in answer bud slipped from his saddle and picked up the object which the moonlight had revealed. "what in the world is this?" asked the boy rancher, as he held up a curious instrument. "is this the start of another mystery!" chapter iii startling news leaping from their saddles, nort and dick hurried to the side of their cousin, chum and partner in the ranch venture. eagerly they looked over his shoulder while he examined the strange object he had picked up, almost at the very door leading into the mysterious tunnel. the instrument--for such it seemed to be--consisted of a shiny, nickeled part, which was what had reflected the moonlight, thus attracting bud's attention to it. in addition there were two flexible tubes, of soft rubber, joining into one where they met the shiny metal. the two tubes each terminated in hard rubber ends, pierced with a tiny hole, and on the end of the single tube was a bright metal disk. the whole formed a strange object, picked up as it was from the ground, and especially when the boy ranchers feared they had some cause for alarm. "what in the world is it?" asked bud, as he dangled it in front of his cousins. "i never saw anything like it before. wait! i have it! yellin' kid said he was going to send to kansas city for a flute he could play on. this must be part of it! he dropped it here; though that couldn't 'a' been him sneaking around the tunnel. but this is yellin' kid's musical instrument all right! oh, won't i rag him, though! i wonder which end you blow in?" "that isn't a musical instrument!" declared nort, taking it from bud's hand. "not what is it then?" asked the western ranch lad. "it's a stethoscope," declared nort. "whew! x i didn't know yellin' kid could play one of _them_!" exclaimed bud. "he must be more musical than any of us thought!" "'tisn't musical, i tell you!" cried nort, half laughing. "this is a _stethoscope_--it's what a doctor listens to your lungs or heart with when you're sick." "he never listened to mine!" boasted bud, "at least not since i can remember, for i've never been sick." "well, i have," admitted nort, "and so has dick. you remember dr. thompson using one of these, don't you?" he asked his stout brother. "sure i do! and there's some other name for it besides plain stethoscope," declared dick. "it's a long word--bi--di--" "binaural stethoscope! that's it!" broke in nort. "i remember, now. i thought i'd never be able to say those words, but they come back to me now. binaural stethoscope." "'tisn't good to eat, or shoot with, is it!" asked bud, as he again took the instrument and turned it over and over in his hands. "eat! shoot!" laughed nort. "no, i tell you it's to listen to your heart beats, or lungs. binaural means, simply, that it's fixed so you can listen with both ears at the same time. and stethoscope comes from two greek words, stethos, the breast, and skopen, to view. it means, literally, to view inside the chest, but of course the doctors who use the stethoscope don't really do that. they only listen through the ear pieces--these," and he held up the two rubber tubes ending in hard nipples, pierced with small holes. "what's the other end for!" asked bud, indicating the shiny disk of metal that dangled from the single tube. "that's the part the doctor holds on your chest or over your heart," dick answered. "sometimes the doctor puts it to your back to listen to your breathing from that side." "well, who in the world would have a--a binaural stethoscope out here!" asked bud. "yon reckon doc. tunison dropped it!" he went on, referring to the local veterinarian. "shucks no! cow doctors don't use 'em, not that i ever heard of," declared nort. "though doc. tunison is up to date." "he sure was in discovering that it was germs which caused the epidemic outbreak in our stock last year," remarked bud. "yes, we got out of that mighty lucky," chimed in dick. "what's become of pocut pete?" he asked, referring to a scoundrel of a cowboy. "oh, del pinzo and hank fisher had pull enough to get him out of jail, after he'd served only part of his term for infecting our stock," said bud. he had reference to something which is explained in the volume immediately preceding this. del pinzo was a notorious mexican half-breed who, more than once, had made trouble for the boy ranchers. hank fisher was the owner of double z ranch, adjoining that of square m, one of mr. merkel's, and also adjoining happy valley. pocut pete was believed to be a tool of these two unscrupulous men, and del pinzo had at his command several greasers who slipped back and forth over the mexican border, not far from which were located the holdings of mr. merkel and the boy ranchers. "well, this is a stethoscope all right," went on nort, as bud turned toward his pony, with the evident intention of mounting. "and i'd give a lot to know what it's doing here, and who dropped it," spoke bud. "let's look around a little more. i'm not at all satisfied with this. i sure saw, some one here, and this proves it," and he stuffed the doctor's instrument into his pocket. "it doesn't prove that the man you saw--or thought you just saw--sneaking around here dropped it," spoke nort. "we've been away for a week, and it may have been dropped any day within that time." "yes," agreed bud. "but who was monkeying around here as we rode back to camp? that's what i want to know!" however, search as the boy ranchers did, they found no midnight visitor. all was quiet at their camp, save for the distant howl of a coyote, and the splash of the water into the reservoir. all the stock had been driven away from happy valley to the big round-up at diamond x, but soon the fertile glade would again be dotted with hungry cattle. "well, i reckon we'll have to give up," said bud, when a thorough search had been made, and no one discovered. "the tunnel door doesn't show any signs of an attempt having been made to bust it; does it?" asked dick. "not as far as i can see, in this light," bud replied. "we'll take a stroll up here in the morning," he went on as he thrust the stethoscope into his pocket. "now for a little grub, and then to hit the hay. oh, boy! but i to tired!" so were the others, and after rummaging among their camp stores, and eating some crackers and canned peaches, the boys, having picketed their horses, turned in, rolled up in their blankets, and were asleep almost as soon as their heads were on the pillows, which were, as a matter of fact, stuffed with hay. an examination, next morning, disclosed nothing more in the neighborhood of the tunnel entrance than their own and, their ponies' feet marks, until bud, with an exclamation, pointed to several cigarette stubs on the ground, and a number of half-burned matches. "some one was here last night--or yesterday!" he declared. "and they stood in this one spot for some time--either resting or spying." "what would they be spying on!" asked dick. "search me!" frankly admitted bud. "but since we had that water fight i'm suspicious of everything. those cigarette stubs are fresh, and were dropped last night, or yesterday. none of us use 'em, and though some of our cow punchers do they haven't been here lately enough to have left this fresh evidence. the stubs are new ones." "well, maybe there was some one here last night," said dick. "i'm positive of it!" declared bud. "let's take another look at the big door lock." even a close inspection, however, failed to disclose any signs of the great portal, or its heavy padlock having been tampered with. nor were there any marks tending to show where an effort had been made to force boards off the frame in which the door was set. "well, we'll just have to wait," said bud, as he turned to go back down to the tents. "hello," he suddenly added, as he gazed off up the valley. "here comes somebody, riding like all possessed, too!" the boy ranchers watched the approach of the solitary horseman, and, as he drew nearer bud exclaimed: "it's buck tooth!" it was, in fact, that same zuni indian, who had been engaged as a sort of camp cook and ranch hand by bud's father, later being transferred to bud's service. buck tooth was devoted to the boy ranchers. "what's matter, buck! what for you ride so _pronto_ fashion!" asked bud as the indian, a superb horseman, drew rein close to the boy ranchers. "you race, maybe, buck tooth!" "yep--race tell you bad news!" half-grunted the zuni. "bad news!" faltered bud. "is it my mother--dad---" "them all well," said buck tooth. "but got bad news all same. you see anybody out here?" and he slipped from his saddle to rest his almost winded steed. chapter iv the scratched safe eagerly the boy ranchers gathered about buck tooth. the indian, as if rather ashamed of the hurry and emotion that had possessed him, grew quieter as he threw the reins down over his pony's head, as an intimation to the animal not to stray. then the zuni turned toward bud and his cousins. "this is the second time you gave me bad news, buck," remarked the western lad. "remember?" "how?" asked the indian sharply. "i say this is the second time you've brought news of something bad. you were the first to tell me about the water stopping in the reservoir. and from then on we had some rousing times; didn't we, fellows?" asked bud, turning to his chums. "that's right!" assented nort. "but what's going on now?" dick wanted to know. "you said it!" exclaimed bud. "i should let buck tooth tell it, instead of keeping him gassing away about the past. what's the row, buck?" "robbers!" was the indian's answer. "robbers? at diamond x?" cried bud. "did they get anything?" dick wanted to know. "anybody hurt?" asked nort. "get some money--nobody hurt only babe--him get broken leg," half-grunted the indian. "babe has a broken leg in a fight with robbers?" gasped bud. "shoot it along a little faster, buck! i'm sorry i didn't let you ride harder at first. how much did they get? was it rustlers, and i'll bet a cookie with a raisin in that del pinzo and his gang had a hand in the fracas! did babe shoot any of 'em?" "babe him try--but too fat," said the indian, with as near to a chuckle as ever he achieved, "fall down--bust leg. your _padre_ no can tell how much money gone, but big iron box not opened." "oh, they didn't get to the safe, then!" exclaimed bud with relief in his voice. for he knew, at this season of the spring round-up, that many thousands of dollars, from the sale of cattle, were often kept in his father's safe. "but go ahead, buck! tell us more about it. step on her! give her the gas! open the throttle!" "hu?" grunted the zuni, questioningly. "i step on somet'ing?" "you're only mixing him up!" declared nort "let him take his own time, bud." "if i do he'll be until noon giving us the facts. and if the robbers looted dad's office, even if they didn't get the safe open, they may have lit out with a tidy sum, and we ought to take the trail after 'em. that's what buck came here for, likely! to get us on the chase from this end. go ahead! shoot!" he requested, meaning a verbal fire, not actual. whether buck tooth would have succeeded, under these confusing directions, in making a quick, dear statement of the matter is a question that was not settled. for, just as the indian was about to resume, dick looked off toward the distant hills, which lined the trail between diamond x proper, and happy valley, and the lad exclaimed: "here comes one of the robbers now, riding like sam hill!" bud and nort leaped to the side of their partner, their hands on their weapons, but, after a glimpse of the approaching horseman, having shaded his eyes with his hands, bud cried: "that isn't a robber! it's yellin' kid. i know his riding. i reckon he's come to give us the straight of it!" which proved to be the case. "buck outrode me," admitted yellin' kid as he drew rein, and his voice was not as loud as usual. "we started at th' same time, shortly after midnight when th' break was made, but that indian's cayuse shore can step some! an' buck can ride--let me tell you!" "you shot a ringer that time!" asserted bud. "but what happened! and is babe badly hurt!" "no! he just twisted his ankle gettin' out of his bunk in a hurry t' take a pot shot at th' bunch that tried to hold us up. doc. tunison says he'll be all right in a week." "but tunison is a horse doctor!" objected bud, for babe, the fat assistant foreman of diamond x, was a prime favorite with him and his cousins. "yes, shore he is! why not? a horse doctor for a cow puncher!" chuckled yellin' kid. "but here's the yarn." thereupon, having turned his pony out to graze with the indian's, yellin' kid told the boys what had happened. "we started some of the cattle from th' round-up brandin' over to th' railroad," the cowboy stated, "an' followin' th' usual preliminaries we all settled down for th' night, after you fellows rode off. an' let me tell you i was glad t' hit my bunk! "well, some time near midnight we, out in th' bunkhouse, was roused up by shootin' from your father's bungalow, bud. course that couldn't mean but one thing, an' we all got our guns an' rushed out, natcherally. but all we saw was a bunch ridin' off in th' darkness, your father firin' at 'em, bud. "come t' find out, your mother had been woke up by a noise in th' office where th' safe was. she called your father an' he took a look, with his gun, of course. he saw a man in a mask tryin' t' open th' strong box, and your dad gave th' usual countersign. "but th' burglar wheeled, an' popped one at your dad, not hittin' him i'm glad t' say, an' out th' winder he jumped, th' burglar, i mean. then the rest of th' gang, which was waitin', rode off, shootin' some, as your dad was doin'. "come t' find out, they'd got a few hundred dollars from the desk where your dad left th' cash, bud, but th' main part was in th' safe, an' _that_ they couldn't get open. course soon as we knowed what was up we organized a posse, an' started off--all but babe. he fell--or rolled--out of his bunk an' twisted his leg, somehow. "anyhow, buck an' i was told off t' ride this way, partly t' let you fellers know what had happened, an' partly t' see if there was any trace of th' skunks what robbed your dad down here in happy valley. how about it? seen anybody?" "well, yes, we did see some one sneaking around here when we arrived last evening," bud answered. "but that was long before the robbery." "and tell him what we found!" urged dick "oh, yes, a stethoscope," went on bud. "but that has nothing to do with the matter. maybe some doctor, or medical student, is out here for his health, and dropped it as he rode over our place." "what's a slitherscope!" asked yellin' kid. "anything like a triceratops?" "no!" laughed nort. "we'll show you. but say, what can we do toward getting these robbers?" "we've got t' trail 'em," spoke the older cowboy, as he turned to go to the tents with the boy ranchers, buck tooth following with the two half-winded ponies. "soon as i get my breath----" "that's right!" interrupted bud. "come on up and sit down. i'll make you some coffee. i forgot you'd ridden all night." "half of it, anyhow," asserted yellin' kid. "an' i rode hard! but so did buck tooth, only you'd hardly know it. he sure can make his cayuse cover th' ground!" indeed the indian showed little signs of the hard riding he had accomplished between midnight and dawn. and when he and yellin' kid were having a belated morning cup of coffee further details of the story were told. who the robbers were, and how many there were in the gang that attempted to force the safe at diamond x, were matters left to further enlightenment. mr. merkel had only seen one in his office, bending over the safe, and this one had fled at the command of "hands up!" then the others had raced away, amid a fusillade of shots which they returned. it was so dark--the moon of the early night having been clouded over--that the direction taken by the robbers had not been ascertained. "they probably scattered," declared yellin' kid. "it would be th' safest way--for them! but there's a chance some might 'a' come this way, so your dad wanted you t' be on the watch." "we will!" declared bud. "and when some of the boys come back on the job here, and we get our allotment of cattle so things settle down to normal, i'm going back to the ranch and have a talk with dad." "'twouldn't be a bad idea," agreed yellin' kid. "but where's that mouth organ you said you found?" "a stethoscope," laughed bud. "here it is," and he exhibited the medical instrument. "hum!" mused the cowboy. "it might be a burglar tool for all i'd know the difference. but now, if it's agreeable t' you fellers, let's have a look around. maybe some of them burglars got a chunk of lead in him and he's hidin' out around here." however, a search in the vicinity of happy valley camp disclosed nothing, and then bud and his cousins set about getting back into the routine that had been interrupted by the round-up. "the first thing we've got to do," bud declared, "is to mend that break in the telephone line. if that had been working last night you could have called us up, kid, instead of you and buck having to ride out here." "yes, we wished th' line was working" admitted the cowboy. "but it wouldn't have been of much use, it seems. them burglars didn't come out this way. however, it's just as well t' have it fixed." there was a system of telephones connecting bud's camp with his father's main ranch and also the two branch ones, and the system was likewise hooked-up with the long distance. but a recent wind, just before the round-up, had blown down some poles in happy valley, putting bud's line out of commission. this was why he and his chums could not be reached by wire from diamond x. the poles were set up in the next few days, when some cowboys arrived to again take up their duties with bud, nort and dick; for the cattle not sold were again sent back to the valley range to fatten for the fall, and they needed to be looked after. meanwhile, a search of the surrounding country had failed to disclose any trace of the robbers, and their identity remained hidden. they had gotten away with about $ , missing a much larger sum in the safe. the authorities were notified, and a posse scoured the region, but fruitlessly. "let's have a look at the safe they tried to open, dad," begged bud, when he and his cousins had ridden over to pay a week-end visit to the home ranch. "did they try to drill it for an explosive?" "i don't believe so, son. in fact, i haven't looked at the safe very closely, except to notice that it was all right. and i took the money out of it over to the bank next day." bud and his cousins looked at the strong box in which mr. merkel kept his money and valuable papers. it was a large, old-fashioned safe, proof from any fire that might visit the ranch, and beyond the ability of ordinary burglars to open, without the use of explosives or special tools. and as bud leaned over to look at the heavy door he saw something that caused him to ask: "were these here before the attempted robbery, dad?" "what there, bud?" "these scratches on the front of the door. it does look as if they tried to drill the safe!" bud pointed to several parallel marks on the steel door. the scratches were deep in the paint, and seemed to radiate toward the shiny nickel dial of the combination. "scratches!" repeated mr. merkel, coming over to look. "no, i never noticed them before. why, she is clawed up some," he admitted. "but i can't say that they haven't been there since i got the safe, which was just before the round-up. yes, she sure is clawed up some," and he spoke as if some mountain lion had done the damage to his strong box. but here bud's sister, nell, took a hand in the proceedings. "those scratches are new ones--they were made by the burglar," declared the girl, whom nort and dick thought the prettiest they had ever seen. "i know, for i dusted your office, dad, the day the round-up ended, and the door was as shiny then as a new penny." "then the burglar did it," decided bud. "and it shows we have to deal with a regular gang of safe robbers, instead of just ordinary cattle rustlers!" chapter v the broken bottle bud's opinion, expressed with such conviction, coupled with the fact that nell, his sister, was sure the safe had not been scratched the day before the robbery, made it look as though men practiced in the evil art of burglary had been at work. "when i saw the fellow, bending over my safe," said mr. merkel, "it appeared to me he was only trying to work the combination. i have a hard job, myself, remembering how to do it, account of the safe being a new one. and i was so surprised, at first, that i just stood there, like a locoed steer, watching him. then i let out a yell, told him to throw his hands up, and things began to happen." "but, instead of just trying to open your safe, by working the combination, same as i've heard of burglars doing by filing down their fingers with sandpaper to make 'em sensitive, he was getting ready to blow it open," declared bud. "does look so. she sure is clawed!" commented mr. merkel again. "mercy! it's a wonder we weren't all blown up in our sleep!" exclaimed bud's mother. "you boys'll stay to dinner," she added, as if glad to change the subject. "we aimed to," said bud with a grin at his cousins. "we manage pretty well most times, with what we cook, and what buck tooth hands out in the grub line. but we sure do like a home-feed once in a while." "or twice!" added nort, while dick nodded his agreement. but though it was evident that some professional burglar had endeavored to open the merkel safe, that was all the conclusion which could be arrived at. no additional clues were found and, for a time, matters settled down into the ordinary run at diamond x. summer was coming, with its heat, and bud was glad there would be no interruption in the water supply that flowed into happy valley from the pocut river, coming through the ancient underground passage. "for we'll need plenty of water in hot weather," he told jus cousins. at diamond x second, as the outfit of the boy ranchers was often called, was now a goodly herd of animals eating the rich, johnson grass and other fodder, getting fattened in readiness for sale in the fall, when there would be another round-up. besides bud, nort and dick, there was now, at the camp in the valley, buck tooth the zuni indian, yellin' kid and snake purdee, two efficient and veteran cow punchers who had been transferred from diamond x first, meaning by that the main ranch. while bud was a true son of the west, and while nort and dick had, some time ago, passed out of the tenderfoot class, still mr. merkel felt that his son and his nephews needed the aid and guidance of cattlemen older than themselves. so the "outfit," as the aggregation at a ranch is called, was quite a happy family. "if we could only catch those burglars, and get back your dad's money, i'd feel better, though," declared snake purdee, as he rode in from the diamond x ranch one day, to announce, among other news items, that babe, the fat assistant foreman, was able to be about again. "yes," agreed bud. "it isn't so much the money loss, as it is the knowledge that such a bunch of men is loose in a neighborhood. del pinzo and that hank fisher bunch are bad enough, but i don't believe they had a hand in this." "i wouldn't put it past them!" stated yellin' kid in his usual, loud tones. "th' skunks!" "but dad said he didn't recognize the fellow he surprised at his safe," spoke bud. "of course he didn't have much chance. but if it had been del pinzo--" "don't worry!" broke in snake purdee. "that greaser wouldn't do a job like that himself; or hank fisher, either. they'd get some one else to take the risk. however, what's th' use gassin' about it? i guess the money's gone for good. but i'm glad they didn't get th' safe open!" "so'm i," chimed in bud. "some of our cash would have vanished then." for he and his cousins had a share in the money received from the sale of steers at round-up time. so, following the robbery at diamond x, matters quieted down. bud still kept the stethoscope, and word of the finding of the strange instrument traveled to other ranches. it was called by such a variety of names (the cowboys having twisted the original and proper one) until the boy ranchers had difficulty, at times, in understanding the reference when they were asked about it. but no one claimed it, and no trace was found of the person who, it was presumed, had dropped it the night our heroes saw some one disappear near the boarded-up entrance to the ancient tunnel. "come on, let's try a bit of shooting!" proposed nort one evening, when grub had been served at the camp, and he and his brother were left with buck tooth. snake and yellin' kid had ridden off on an all-night tour of duty, to a distant part of the ranch. a choice bunch of steers had started to wander farther off than bud thought it was wise to let them. they were, evidently, in search of another variety of fodder, but that could not save them from some passing band of greasers, or other cattle thieves. "haze 'em back this way," bud had requested his two cowboys. "they'll be safer over here." so yellin' kid and snake had ridden away as the early evening shadows were falling and, to pass the time until the hour for seeking their bunks, the boy ranchers sought some amusement. shooting at a mark was one form, and nort and dick were endeavoring to become as expert as their western cousin in the use of the . . "shooting suits me," agreed bud. "i'll soon have to cut down my handicap if you fellows keep on the way you're going," for in the tests of skill bud had always discounted his own ability in order to be fair. "well, don't scale it down too much," begged dick. "nort hasn't got me skinned, but i'm not up to you." "well, let's see how you'll do," suggested bud. as a mark a bottle was stuck on a stick which was thrust into the ground at the foot of the sloping bank which enclosed the reservoir. shooting against this earthen bank insured that no wild bullets would injure any one. "you go first, bud," suggested dick. "we want to get a line on you." accordingly bud walked to the marked-off place, drew his heavy revolver, raised it and brought it down on the mark--the bottle on the stick. there was a sharp crack, followed instantly by the tinkle of glass, and that bottle was no more. "busted it clean!" cried nort. "i wish i could do that!" another flask was provided, and nort shot at this. his aim was fairly good, but he was allowed to go five feet nearer than bud had stood, that distance being the western lad's handicap. but nort only chipped away part of the bottom of the bottle with his first shot, and it took three to shatter it completely. "watch me do better than that!" cried dick, as he took his place where his brother had stood, and raised his gun. "i'll crack it first shot!" his weapon was still in the air, and he had not brought it to a level with the bottle when there sounded, from somewhere out in the valley back of where the boy ranchers stood, the sound of a shot. the bullet zipped viciously over their heads, and, as they instinctively ducked, they heard the crash of the broken bottle. chapter vi missing steers like a flash bud, who had been standing beside nort, to watch the effect of dick's try, turned and faced outward to view the darkening valley, whence had come the sound of that shot. nort turned also, but dick seemed to think one of his companions had played a trick on him. "that isn't fair!" cried the stout lad. "what'd you want to go and bust that bottle for, nort?" "i didn't do it!" asserted his brother. "nor i," added bud in a low voice. "the shot came from out there," and he indicated the long and fertile valley, over which the purple evening shadows were falling. "duck, fellows!" he suddenly cried, and he pulled nort beside him in the grass. dick, who caught the words of warning, and saw what his cousin had done, also dropped down, so that, a second or two after the firing of the strange shot that had shattered the bottle, only the heads of the boy ranchers showed above the grass, and then only slightly. "what's the idea?" asked dick, as silence followed the measure of safety. "whoever it was that fired might shoot again," replied end. "who was it?" asked nort. "that's what we've got to find out," answered bud in a low voice. "could it have been either snake or yellin' kid, riding back and breaking that bottle over our heads, to show what good shots they were?" asked dick. "no, i hardly think so," replied his cousin. "they're both good shots, all right, and they could have broken that flask from the distance it was broken. but they wouldn't throw a scare into us this way. besides, they haven't any time to fool around. they have an all-night ride ahead of them." "what makes you think the bottle was busted from some distance, bud!" dick wanted to know. "the way the bullet sounded," was the answer. "it was almost spent when it got here, but it had force enough to break the glass, and would have damaged us if it hit us. i thought whoever played that fool trick might try another shot, so i yanked you down, nort." "glad you did! i might not have thought of it. but whoever it was doesn't seem to be going to shoot again." "no," agreed bud, after a little period of silence, during which no other menacing crack of a weapon was heard. "but we'll wait a little longer." through the fast-gathering darkness the boys looked out from their semi-hiding places across the valley. no wisp of smoke, and no movement of horse or rider was to be observed. and silence once more settled down on happy valley--not quite so happy as it had been. for, following the clearing-up of the mystery of the water supply, new and sinister events seemed pending for the boy ranchers. but, as yet, there were only straws, showing which way the evil wind was blowing. "could it have been a chance shot?" asked dick, raising himself a little to get a better look. "that bullet was aimed straight for the bottle, over our heads," declared bud. "it was no chance shot." "one of ours couldn't have glanced, could it?" dick wanted to know. "surely not!" affirmed bud. "why, no one had shot for some time. i'd just put the new bottle on the stick for you." "yes, and i was just going to shoot, when somebody took the bullet out of my gun, so to speak," went on dick, grimly jesting. "do you think they were shooting at--us?" asked nort, hesitatingly. bud did not answer for the moment, and when he did it was to say, as he suddenly arose: "if they did i'm going to give 'em another chance. and i'm going to do some shooting on my own account!" he had his gun in his hand, for he had so held it since he had shattered the first bottle, and now it was grasped in readiness for instant action. "we're with you!" cried nort and dick, as they emerged from their recumbent positions in the grass, and hastened to the side of their cousin. but though they looked across the valley, now half shrouded in gloom, and up and down, as far as they could see, no one was in sight. here and there were small herds of their cattle. back at the camp tents buck tooth was performing his evening duties, or "chores," as bud called them. the indian paid no attention to the shooting, for he knew the boys had gone to practice, and he could not be expected to realize that one of the shots was, possibly, a hostile one. i use the word "possibly" with reason, for, as yet, there was nothing to show that it was not either an accident, or had not been fired by some passing cowboy who, from a distance, seeing the bottle on a stick, could not resist a chance to "take a crack" at it. and yet this last theory would seem to be a poor one. for if the shot had been a joke the one who had fired it would, in all reason, it appeared, have shown himself soon after. "no one seems to show up," remarked nort at length, in a low voice. "then we'd better look for 'em before it gets too dark," declared bud. "come on! let's get our horses." "isn't it taking a chance, riding out to look for some one who may have fired at us purposely?" asked dick. "yes," agreed bud, after a moment's thought, "but life out west is all more or less of a chance and risk. you take a risk, every time you ride at more than a foot-pace, of your pony stepping into some prairie dog's hole and not only laming himself, but killing you. but you don't stop riding on that account." "no," agreed nort. "and we take a chance every time we ride herd," went on bud. "the steers may stampede, and before we can get 'em to milling, they may rush over us. but i notice neither of you ever back out of that job; do you?" "no," agreed nort, adding: "well, then, i reckon going after this unknown shooter isn't taking such a long chance." "i'm with you!" exclaimed dick. briefly telling buck tooth what had happened, the boy ranchers rode off at a fast pace, to take advantage of what little light of day remained. they headed, as nearly as they could ascertain it, in the direction whence the single shot had come. but it is hardly needless to say they found no one, and no sign that could be construed into a tangible clue. "we'll tell snake and yellin' kid about it when they come back," decided bud, as he and his cousins returned to camp when darkness had completely fallen. for it was useless, after that, to search for the perpetrator of the joke. or was it a joke? that is what the boy ranchers asked themselves more than once. contrary to their half-formed expectations, the night passed quietly. there was no disturbance among the cattle, and no midnight visitors invaded the camp. but, for all this, the slumbers of our heroes were not easy. perhaps they had premonitions of coming disaster. for disaster came, with the return, early on the morning of the next day, of snake and yellin' kid. "they're after you, bud!" shouted the cowboy with the loud voice. "they're after you!" "who?" asked bud, as he and his cousins came out to meet the cowboys. "rustlers!" was the grim answer. "there's a lot of your steers missin' from that far herd! rustlers, bud! rustlers!" chapter vii four eyes for a moment bud merkel seemed unable to comprehend the bad news thus brought to him by his cowboy helpers and friends. nort and dick, also, were shocked by the intelligence. but bud quickly recovered. perhaps it was because of his heritage of the west--the ability to face danger and disaster with grim courage, part of his father's stock in trade. "rustlers, eh?" repeated bud, and his voice was steadier than yellin' kid or snake purdee expected to find it. "did they get many?" "quite a bunch," answered yellin' bad. "we rounded up as many as we could, and--" "you mean you rounded up the _rustlers_?" asked nort, eagerly. "no, what was left of the steers," answered snake. "guess we wouldn't be back here alone--that is, just us two, if we'd had a run-in with the rascals. we didn't see 'em, but we did find traces of 'em. what are you going to do, bud? get on their trail?" "let's talk it over, first," suggested the boy rancher, and he looked at nort and dick, for they were partners with him on this venture of trying to raise cattle in happy valley--which would have been almost a desert save for the water that came through the strange mountain tunnel. "tell us about it," urged dick. "well, there isn't so much to tell," replied yellin' kid, his voice a bit lower, now that there was serious business afoot. "snake an' i started there, to haze back th' steers as you; told us, bud. but when we'd rounded up th' herd, drivin' 'em in from where a lot of 'em had strayed, we saw, right away, that th' count was short. first we thought a bunch was hidin' out on us, but we made a pretty good search an' then we got th' evidence." "the evidence?" exclaimed nort. "yes, we saw where the rustlers had been at work. they must 'a' been there a day before we arrived. they probably cut out a good bunch of cattle an' drove 'em off. but they didn't drive 'em all." "what makes you think so?" asked bud. "do you mean that we have a few left?" and he laughed uneasily. "oh, there's more'n a _few_," said snake. "but by evidence kid means we saw where they'd been blurrin' the brand--the diamond x brand!" "oh, they're doing that; are they?" asked bud, sharply. "yes, we found th' ashes of two or three brandin' fires," went on yellin' kid, "an' we picked up th' broken handle of a brandin' iron. no marks on it, like there was on the other," he said, referring to the time one of the irons from double z had been found on the range of the boy ranchers. "but we brought it along, anyhow," and he exhibited a broken and charred piece of wood. "but we found more than that," he continued. "we found one steer they'd killed, for beef likely, after they'd blurred th' brand. there wasn't much left. what th' rustlers didn't take th' buzzards did. but there was enough of th' hide left to show what work they were up to--blurring th' brand." this, as you have learned from the previous books of this series, consists in burning some other mark over the legitimate brand on cattle, so that the original one can not be made out. then the animal may be claimed by whoever has it. blurring a brand, that is, making it illegible, or changing one brand into another, are two of the methods used by unscrupulous men to steal cattle. the boy ranchers well understood what was meant by the news brought them by the two cowboys. the next thing to decide on was what course to pursue. "did they leave any trail?" asked bud. "well, we didn't stop t' hunt for it, as long as it wasn't a plain one," snake answered. "likely we could 'a' picked it up. but as long as there had been a raid we decided th' best thing t' do was t' save th' rest of th' cattle, an' then come an' tell you, bud." "how many cattle do you think they took?" asked nort. "oh, i should say fifty," answered yellin kid, "includin' th' one they killed for beef. probably they blurred th' brands on th' others an' drove 'em off--an' i shouldn't be a bit s'prised," he went on, "but what we'd find most of your cattle, bud, walkin' around on double z." "hank fisher; eh?" exclaimed dick. "yes, an' that slick mexican half-breed of his, del pinzo!" declared snake. "anyhow, they got away with a bunch of your steers, bud, an' now what are we goin' t' do? are we goin' t' sit back an' let 'em laugh at us?" "not much!" declared the boy rancher. "but let's get this straight. i wonder why they didn't drive off the whole herd while they were at it?" "probably it was too big a contract for 'em," remarked yellin' kid. "an' then, too, they might not 'a' had men enough, or th' cattle may 'a' stampeded." "an' maybe they was scared off," added snake. "yes," agreed his partner on the ride from which they had just returned, "that may have been so. somethin' may have scared th' rustlers. but if i get a chance at 'em, i'll throw a bigger scare int' 'em!" and he significantly tapped the grim . at his hip. "any trace of which way they went?" asked bud. "there is--up to a certain point," admitted snake. "what do you mean?" the boy rancher asked. "well, i mean we could trace the cattle down the valley up to that low place between the hills-a sort of pass. and then all trace of 'em was lost." "lost!" repeated nort. "yes, sir, lost!" declared snake. "you couldn't see any more signs of 'em than if they'd been lifted up in one of them flying machines and histed up over the mountain! that's th' funny part of this raid." "there have been some other queer things around here," said dick. "there was that bottle last night." "what was that?" asked snake, quickly. "there was some promiscuous shooting around here last night," said bud. "i'll tell you about it as soon as we get the straight of this rustler business. maybe there's some connection. but i wonder----" he was interrupted by a voice singing, and the song was one of the usual cowboy refrains, though the voice was rather better than usual. at first the boy ranchers thought it might be old billee dobb who, with buck tooth, had been out to a distant part of the valley to see if he could get on the track of a mountain lion which had been killing cattle. but a glance showed the approaching singer, who was also a rider, to be a stranger. he sat astride a big, black horse, much larger than the ordinary cow pony, and as he approached the camp the sun glinted in curious fashion on his face. "four eyes!" exclaimed snake, meaning, thereby, that the stranger wore glasses. the rising sun had reflected on their lens. on came "four eyes," singing as he advanced, until, when he came within hailing distance, he drew rein, saluted the assembled company with a half-military gesture and called out: "any chance of a job here?" chapter viii throwing the rope silence followed this greeting and question, and then the two boy ranchers, and their cowboy friends, waited for bud to speak, he being, in a sense, the head of the new organization. though dick and nort held equal shares, purchased for them by their father, the two lads who had lived so long in the east deferred to the boy of the west in this matter, thinking, naturally, that he would better be able to handle it. "looking for a place?" asked bud, genially enough, as he surveyed the newcomer, from the top of his broad-brimmed range hat to the pawing hoofs of his black steed, for the horse was impatiently digging in the dirt. "yep!" was the answer. "i'm looking for a place." the voice was pleasant, and there was none of that clipping off of the final "g" in his words, so common a practice among most of the cowboys. perhaps they didn't have time to use the proper endings. "i'm dead anxious to ride for some outfit," went on "four eyes," as he had been dubbed and as he came to be called, as long as he remained with diamond x second. "your father sent me over here," he added. "my father!" exclaimed bud. "do you know him? i don't know you!" he added quickly, for he sensed that the stranger, in some manner, had managed to pick him from all the others as the son of the proprietor of diamond x. "i don't claim to know your father, only having met him once, when i rode up, yesterday, to ask for a job," went on four eyes. "i slept out last night--back there," he added with a wave of 'is quirt in the direction of diamond x. "had supper with the boys at your father's ranch, and he told me you might be needing some one. if you don't----" he paused suggestively, evidently ready to ride on and try his luck elsewhere if there was no chance in the valley. "i may need some one," bud said. in fact, he was in need of an additional hand, and since this latest action on the part of rustlers he wanted help more than ever, for he was about to put into execution a plan for getting on the trail of these marauders. "but how'd you know who i was?" he asked, anxious to ascertain how the stranger had picked him out, as distinguished from nort or dick. "oh, your father looks like you," was the easy answer, given with a laugh, in which snake, yellin' kid and the boy ranchers joined. "when he said he didn't need any riders, adding that perhaps you might, i decided to take a chance." "all right. i can use another hand--or, rather, _we_ can," and bud waved his hand toward his cousins. "you can turn your pony into the corral," he added, "and we'll give you something to eat--unless you've had breakfast?" he questioned. "not so much but what i can eat more. thanks! my name's henry mellon. i've ridden some for curly q and long l if you want any references." "i reckon my dad sized you up all right," spoke bud. "i reckon he did!" laughed henry mellon, or four eyes, as i shall call him, following the custom of the others on the ranch. "i wouldn't want to try to put anything over on him." "it isn't exactly healthy," agreed bud, for his father bore an enviable reputation for finding out the truth about matters in that "cow country." "ever ride for double z?" asked yellin' kid, and the loud tone's of his voice appeared to startle the newcomer. "why, no," was the answer. "i can't say that i have. one of mr. merkel's ranches?" he asked. "no. it's hank fisher's place," spoke snake. "glad to meet up with you," he added, riding forward and extending his hand. "that's quite a hoss you got there. beckon he can go some!" "well, he doesn't take dust from many," was the cautious admission, as the new cowboy shook hands all around. "he'll be glad of a rest, though, for i've ridden hard lately. i suppose i can use another?" he asked bud. "sure," was the answer. "snake here, or yellin' kid, will show you which ones you can add to your string. see you later, fellows," bud called to his cowboy helpers, as he motioned to nort and dick to follow him to their own private tent. "what do you think of it, bud?" asked nort, when they were alone, and the new cowboy was being made to feel at home by snake, yellin' kid, and old billee, who had by this time ridden in. the smell of cooking arose from the tent that buck tooth had turned into a kitchen. "you mean him?" and bud nodded toward where the cowboys were congregated in friendly talk. "no, i mean about the rustlers." "oh, they're bad! no question about it--they're _bad!_" declared bud. "as soon as we get a chance we'll ride over and take a look at the place. it doesn't seem reasonable that they can drive a bunch of cattle off down the valley, and then have all traces of 'em disappear as if they'd gone up in an airship." "that's right!" chimed in dick. "do you s'pose this four eyes saw the rustlers?" "he didn't come from that direction," declared the western lad. "he _says_ he didn't," spoke nort. and when nort accented that one word bud looked at his cousin quickly. "don't you believe what he says?" bud asked. "all the same i'd call up your father," went on nort. bud hesitated a moment and then said: "i will! no use taking chances. he may be all right, but it won't do any harm to know it. i like his looks, though we don't often get a cowboy with glasses. i'll call dad!" which he did, on the telephone, learning from his father that mr. merkel knew nothing about the stranger, though he "sized him up," as being all right. but mr. merkel had done more than this. he had called, on the telephone, or had been in communication, otherwise, with the late employers of henry mellon, and the cowboy was well spoken of. he was a reliable hand, it was said. "so we don't have to worry about _him_," bud told his cousins. "but we do have to take some action about these rustlers! hang 'em! i wish they were all bottled up in the tunnel!" "that's right!" chimed in dick. "are we going on their trail?" asked nort. "if we can pick it up," agreed bud. "anyhow, we'll take a ride over that way. what with cattle missing, and queer shots being fired behind your back, we're likely to be in for as lively a time as when we had the water fight!" "or locating a triceratops!" added nort with a laugh. after breakfast, and the finishing of the usual "chores" about camp, the boy ranchers prepared to ride over and look at the place where the raid had been made. "what cattle had not been taken--and it was only a small part of the herd that had been driven off--were now nearer the camp headquarters, having been hazed over by snake and yellin' kid. mr. merkel had been told of the theft, and had advised prompt action on the part of his son and nephews. "four eyes seems to be making himself right at home," remarked dick, as the three boys started toward the corral, intending to saddle their ponies and ride over to the scene of the cattle-rustling operations. "yes," agreed bud. henry mellon was in the midst of old billee, buck tooth, snake and yellin' kid, and, as the boy ranchers watched, they saw n four eyes twirling his lariat above his head. "what's he doing?" asked dick. "oh, just showing 'em some fancy roping," bud answered. "let's go over," suggested nort. "i'd like to get on to a few tricks, myself." they found four eyes attempting some of the more difficult feats of rope throwing. after twirling his lasso about his head, the rope forming a perfect circle, he changed the direction from horizontal to perpendicular, and nimbly leaped backward and forward through the swiftly circling lariat. snake tried this, but his spurs caught and there was a queer mix-up of man and rope. snake could equal the newcomer's feat in twirling the rope around his head horizontally, but failed, as did yellin' kid, in the other trick. "it's just a knack," said four eyes, modestly enough. "i had a lot of spare time, and i practiced some of these fancy twists. i can rope four horses at once." "yes you can--not!" challenged snake. "i'll prove it--of course they have to be going in the same direction," stipulated the new cowboy. "even with that i doubt it," went on snake. "i've heard of that, but i never saw it done." "if you fellows will ride past me i'll rope you all," and four eyes indicated snake, yellin' kid, old billee and buck tooth. they mounted horses, and as bud, nort and dick watched, the newcomer prepared for the test. chapter ix the fire "say when!" called snake to the spectacle-wearing cowboy, as the reptile-fearing cow puncher and his companions prepared to let themselves be roped by the new arrival--providing he could do it. "i'll be ready in a moment," remarked henry mellon, and bud and his cousins could not but note how differently he spoke from the average run of ranch hands. "more like one of those college professors who were after the ten-million-year-old triceratops," remarked nort, commenting on the talk. "yes, he is a bit cultured in his speech," assented bud. "guess he hasn't been out west long." "then how can he be such a wonderful roper?" dick wanted to know, for there was no doubt about the ability of four eyes, even if he had not yet made good oh his boast of putting his lariat around four galloping horses at once. "oh, well, it comes natural to some people," said bud, "and then, too, he may have been in mexico. some of the greasers are pretty slick with the horsehair. but let's watch." by this time the four cow punchers, counting buck tooth as one, for the indian was a good herdsman, had lined themselves up about a hundred feet from where four eyes sat on his horse--not the same black one he had ridden in, but another, of bud's stock, that had been assigned him. "ready?" asked yellin' kid. "all ready! come a running!" shouted four eyes, and even here he did not drop a "g." in an instant the four horses were in motion, coming together, in line, down the stretch which the newcomer faced. in another moment four eyes had ridden across the path of the oncoming steeds, and on the ground he spread out his lasso in a great loop, leaning over in his saddle to do this. he retained hold of the rope end that was fastened to his saddle, and then, having spread the net, as it were, he pulled up on the opposite side of the course down which the four were now thundering in a cloud of dust. "can he do it?" asked nort. "he can that way--yes," bud said. "it's a trick! i thought he was going to make a throw." "it's a good trick, though, if he does it," declared dick. in another instant all four horses ridden by the cowboys and the indian were within the spread-out loop of four eyes as it lay on the ground. and then something happened. with a mere twist of his wrist, as it seemed, henry mellon snapped the outspread rope upward and, reining back his horse, he suddenly pulled the lasso taut. it was completely around the sixteen legs of the four horses, holding them together, the rope itself being half way down from the shoulder of each animal. "he did it! by the great rattler and all the little rattlers, he did it!" shouted yellin' kid, as he pulled his horse to a stop, an example followed by the others. for though they might all (save one, perhaps) have pulled out of the encircling rope, there possibly would have been an accident. one, or more, of the horses would have stumbled, or been pulled to the ground. and there was no need of that in what was only a friendly contest. "you did it!" declared yellin' kid, as four eyes loosed his rope and it fell to the ground, the riders guiding their horses out of the loop. "you shore did it!" "but it was a trick!" declared old billee. "'tw'an't straight ropin'!" "yes, it's a trick, but not every one can do it," said the new cowboy. "betcher i can!" declared snake. he tried--more than once, but failed. it was not as easy as it looked, in spite of the fact that it was a trick. "no one can throw, with any accuracy, a loop big enough to take in four horses on the run," declared four eyes when it had been demonstrated that he alone, of all the "bunch" at the happy valley ranch, could do what he had done. "at least if they can, i've never seen it. two, maybe, or three, but not four. putting your rope on the ground, and snapping it up as the horses get in it, is the only way i know." "i wish you'd show me," spoke nort. "i will," promised four eyes. "you don't often have need for a trick like it, but it may come in useful some day." then he showed the boys the knack of it, though it was evident they were not going to master the "how" in a hurry. other feats in roping were indulged in by the cowboys, but none was as expert as four eyes. he seemed to possess uncanny skill with the lariat, though some of his tricks could be duplicated by snake, yellin' kid and even by the boy ranchers. but life on a western ranch is not all fun and jollity, though as much of this as possible is indulged in to make up for the strenuous times that are ever present. so, after the roping exhibition was over, and the newcomer had been assigned certain duties, bud, nort and dick rode down the valley, intending to look over the place where the steers had been stolen, and the carcass of one left as a grim reminder of the raid. otherwise all in happy valley was peaceful. the water was running into the reservoir, through the pipes that connected with the mysterious underground course, once utilized, it was thought, by the ancient aztecs. here and there, feeding on the rich bunch and johnson grass, were the cattle in which the boy ranchers were so vitally interested. the most distant herd had been driven in by snake and yellin' kid--the herd on which the raid had been made. like black specks on the green floor of the valley were the cattle, dotted here and there. "if we have luck this season we ought to round up a good bunch this fall," observed bud, as he rode with his cousins. "yes," agreed nort. "the water can't be shut off now, and we have nothing to worry about." "except rustlers," put in dick. "and the fellow who broke the bottle for us," added bud. "i'd like to know who he was." "it was a bit queer," nort admitted. "but i believe it was some passing cow puncher playing a joke on us. this cattle stealing is no joke, though, and it's got to stop!" "you let loose an earful that time," spoke bud, in picturesque, western slang. "we'll have to let the bottle-breaker wait for a spell, until we size up this rustler question. we may have to get up a sheriff's posse and clean out the rascals." "if we can find 'em," grimly added dick. it was some distance to the place where yellin' kid and snake purdee had seen evidences of the raid, and it was long past noon when the boys reached it. they had stopped for "grub" on the way, having carried with them some food. water they could get from one of the several concrete troughs that had been installed, the fluid coming through pipes from the reservoir. "here's where they killed the steer, or yearling," bud said, pointing to a heap of bones. it was all that remained from the feast of the buzzards. "and here's where they started to drive off the cattle, evidently," added nort, pointing to where a plain trail, made by the feet of many animals, led away from the ground that was more generally trampled by a large herd. "let's follow it," urged dick. "we want to see when it gets to the disappearing point." "that's right!" chimed in bud. they urged their ponies slowly along the trail left by the rustlers. it seemed to go down the valley to the place where the hills lowered on either side to form a sort of pass. it was in this pass that the two cowboys said the trail was lost. "we've got some distance to go, yet," observed bud, as they paused to look and make sure they had not lost the trail. "and, after all, maybe we'll only find the same thing snake and kid did--nothing!" said nort. "well," began bud, "we've got to get to the bottom of this, and if we don't in one way we will----" he was interrupted by a shout from dick. "look!" cried the stout lad. "there's a fire! the grass is on fire, bud!" the western lad gave a quick look in the direction dick indicated. it was off to the right from the trail they had been following. "it is a fire--regular prairie fire," bud murmured. "could any of the reservation indians be on the rampage and have set it?" asked nort. "i don't know! we've got to find out about it!" shouted bud. "come on, fellows!" and, wheeling his horse, he abandoned the trail of the rustlers, and galloped toward the fire, followed by nort and dick. chapter x serious questions some time before the boy ranchers reached the scene of the grass fire toward which they were riding, they caught the smell of the burning fodder. that it was only grass which was aflame they had known before this, for that was all there was to ignite in that section of the valley. there were no buildings as yet, tents taking their place. though bud and his father planned to erect substantial structures if this year was successful. "a lot of good fodder going up in smoke, bud!" yelled nort, as he rode beside his cousin. "if it isn't any worse than that we're lucky," was the answer. "how do you mean?" asked dick. "i mean if we don't lose any cattle. the grass isn't any good after it dries up on the ground, the way this has. but if the fire starts a stampede of cattle--that will mean a loss." "do you think that's what the game is?" asked nort, encouraging his pony, blaze, by patting the animal's neck. "i can't see what else it is, unless the fire started when some one threw down a burning match or cigarette, and most cow punchers aren't that careless. our fellows wouldn't do it, and i don't believe any other ranchers around here would, except on purpose." "you mean the double z bunch?" asked dick. "sort of heading that way," replied bud, significantly. together the boy ranchers rode on toward the fire, silently for a time, the only sounds being the thud of their ponies' feet and the creak of saddle leathers and stirrups. the smell of the burning grass was more pronounced now, and the pall of black smoke was rolling upward in a larger cloud. "it's a big fire!" exclaimed nort. "how can we stop it, bud?" "it will soon burn out," the western lad replied. "i happen to know where this grass is. it's a place where we couldn't very well bring water to, and if it doesn't rain much, as it hasn't lately, the fodder gets as dry as tinder. there's a sort of swale, or valley, filled with this dry grass and it's just naturally burning itself off." "then no very great harm will be done; will there?" asked dick. "not much, unless the cattle get frightened and start to stampede. that's what i'm afraid of, and why i'm riding over there. we can't hope to put out the fire." owing to the fact that the grass was so dry that no cattle would feed on it, there were no steers in the immediate vicinity of the blaze had the fodder been cut it would have made excellent hay, but it would need to be cut green to bring this about. as it was, the tall grass had just naturally dried up as it attained its growth. "it doesn't take even as much as a blaze like this to start a stampede," said bud, as he and his cousins rode nearer to the burning grass, they could feel the heat of it, now. "it's queer how frightened animals are of fire," went on the rancher's son. "there must have been some wonderful sights out here, years ago, when there were millions of buffalo, and when there were prairie fires, miles in width, driving them before it." "i should say so!" chimed in nort. "i've read some of those stories in cooper's books. he's great; isn't he!" "you delivered the goods that time!" remarked bud. "i wish the west was like that now," voiced dick. "with indians and buffalo all over." "there are a few indians left yet," said bud. "they're mostly on reservations, except when they make a break, ride off and act up bad. i guess we stock raisers are better off without the wild indians. "as for the buffalo, they were mighty valuable, and if we could raise them as well as cattle, we'd make a lot of money. the government is trying to get several herds started, but it's no easy task. why, there are almost as many buffalo in new york city as there is out west now." "where!" asked nort, not thinking for the moment. "in bronx park," answered bud. "i haven't seen 'em but i've read about 'em." "oh, yes. so have i," agreed nort. "i forgot about them. whew! it's getting hot," he added, as a shift in the wind brought into their faces a wave of heated and smoke-filled air. "we'd better not keep on any nearer," decided bud. "let's ride around to the other side, and see what we can see." accordingly they turned to the right, as the fire seemed less fierce on that quarter, and continued on. they had been riding over a stretch of the valley carpeted with rich, dark green and fairly damp grass. bud and his cousins knew that when the fire reached this stretch it would die out for lack of fuel. in fact the blaze, as they could see, was confined to an area about a mile square, but of irregular shape. so far none of the cattle in sight had shown more than momentary fear of the blaze. they had run some distance from it and then stopped, sometimes going on with their eating, and again pausing to look with fear-widened eyes at the sight of the leaping tongues of fire. "but we can't tell what's going on behind that smoke screen," declared bud. "some rustlers may have started it to hide their work." "any of your men over in that direction?" asked dick. "they aren't supposed to be," bud replied. "of course some of 'em may have ridden over when they saw the smoke, same as we did. but i don't see how any of 'em could have reached here as soon as we did." together they rode on, circling to the right to get around the edge of the fire. "she's dying out," observed dick. "yes, it can't burn much longer," admitted bud. "and no great damage done, either, unless we find something we haven't yet seen." but when they had completed the circuit around the edge of the blazing grass, and could ride across the fire-blackened area, and behind what was still a thick screen of smoke, they saw something which caused them great surprise. this was not the sight of a bunch of stampeding cattle, though it was what bud and his cousins folly; expected to encounter. there were some cattle on this side of the fire, but they had run far enough away to be out of danger, and beyond where they could be frightened into a frenzied rush. "look!" exclaimed nort, pointing. "four eyes!" exclaimed dick. "by the great horned toad and zip foster--yes!" agreed bud, and his cousins knew he must be stirred to unusual depths of feeling to use this name. zip foster had not been mentioned in several weeks. the mysterious personage, on whom bud called in times of great excitement, was almost a stranger, of late, in happy valley. in fact dick and nort never could get bud to talk about zip. but that is a story which will be told in its proper place, and due season. "it _is_ four eyes!" went on bud, as he and his cousins recognized in the form of a distant rider that of henry mellon, the new cowboy. "and what he's doing here is more than i can imagine. i'm going to find out, though!" the spectacled cow puncher was riding swiftly along, on a course that ran parallel to the direction of the fire. he was on the edge of the burned area, and galloping-away from the boys. but he was not beyond seeing or hailing distance. "hello there!" shouted bud, dropping his reins and making a megaphone of his hands. four eyes heard the call--there was no doubt of that, for he turned in his saddle and looked back. then he must have seen the boys, for he waved his hat at them. next he pointed ahead, as if to indicate that he was in pursuit of some one, and kept on, never slacking his pace. "come on!" shouted the impulsive nort. "let's catch up to him!" he was about to spur his pony forward, but bud caught the bridle. "no use," said the western lad. "he's too far ahead, and our horses are too played out if he comes back well hear about it. if he doesn't--" "why, don't you think he'll come back!" interrupted pick. "it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't," bud answered. "there are some queer things going on around here, and he may be one of 'em. though i haven't any reason to suspect him--yet!" he quickly added. "what are we going to do!" asked dick, as he saw his cousin slacking his pony's pace. "shall we go on to the end of the rustler's trail, or follow four eyes." "neither one," answered bud. "at least not just yet," he added, as he saw nort and dick look at him curiously. "let four eyes go, for the time being. he may have seen some cowboys he'd like to interview about this fire, and be after them. or he may not. as for getting on the trail of the rustlers, we'd have to ride back quite a distance to do that, and it would be dark when we picked it up again. too late to do anything." "are we going back to camp?" asked dick. "no, let's stay right here. we've got grub, and water isn't so far off. we'll just camp out for the night." "suits me," assented dick. "same here," agreed nort. it was something the boys had often done. they carried blankets and tarpaulins on their saddles, ready for this emergency, and they "packed" sufficient rations for several substantial, if not elaborate, meals. they had a coffee pot, a frying pan, bacon and prepared flour, and flapjacks were within their range of abilities as cooks. pausing to note that the fire was rapidly dying out, that there was no cattle stampede in their vicinity, and noting that four eyes was now almost out of sight, the boy ranchers rode on to the nearest water-hole, and there prepared to spend the night, though it was still several hours until darkness should fall. but the horses were tired, for they had been run hard after the fire, and the boys decided to rest them. the lads, themselves, were fresh enough to have kept on, had there been occasion for it. "well, i'm glad this was no worse," observed bud, as they sat down, having picketed their steeds, and looked at the receding pall of smoke. "i only hope the fellows at camp won't be worried." "i guess they know we can take care of ourselves--at least we have so far," spoke nort. "yes," agreed bud. "you fellows have done pretty well since you came out here--you aren't tenderfeet any longer, not by all the shots that ever broke bottles." "say, what do you think of that, anyhow?" asked dick, as he chewed reflectively on a bit of grass. "i don't know what to think," asserted bud. "there are a lot of serious questions we have to settle if we're going to keep on with this ranch." "why, we are going to keep on, aren't we?" asked nort. "i should say so!" cried bud. "we're going to stick here, rustlers or not! and those are the only fellows i'm worrying about," and he tossed a lump of dirt in the fire which dick was starting. "are there always rustlers to worry about on a ranch?" asked nort. "more or less," answered his cousin. "especially when you have a place so near double z. i don't accuse hank fisher of being a rustler, exactly," he went on, "though i think del pinzo is. that's been proved, but it didn't do much good, for he broke jail and they can't seem to land him." "what makes hank fisher and that double z bunch so sore at you?" asked dick. "i guess it's because we're beating them at the cattle game," answered bud. "and because dad dammed the pocut river and took some water for this valley. as if that hurt hank!" he added. "but he makes that an excuse. however, i'll fight him to the finish!" "and we're with you!" added dick and nort. after supper they sat around the fire, talking of various matters. but ever and again the question troubled them of whether or not they could get on the trail of the rustlers. and, too, they wondered what could be the object of four eyes. night settled down, quiet save for the occasional snorting of the ponies. the boys wrapped themselves in their blankets and crawled between their tarpaulins with their feet to the smouldering fire. they talked until drowsiness stole over them and then, having decided to maintain no watch, they all three slumbered. what time it was that bud awakened he did not know. but awaken he did, and suddenly. and the cause of his awakening was the sound of a horse rapidly ridden, and, evidently, approaching the place where he and his cousins had camped for the night. "who's there?" cried bud suddenly, and without preface. under the blanket his hand sought his weapon. "who's there!" chapter xi the watch tower quickly the galloping hoofbeats came to a pause. with a motion of his foot, as he sat up amid his blanket and tarpaulin, bud kicked into the fire a stick of greasewood which flared up, revealing a rider on a panting horse standing over the boy ranchers, all three of whom were now awake. "four eyes!" cried bud, for the flaring fire had revealed that cowboy. he had accepted his nickname in perfect grace. "that's who," was the good-natured answer. "i saw the fire as i was riding back, and i thought you'd be here." "where were you riding _to_?" asked bud, pointedly, his fingers releasing their grip on the . under the blanket. "i thought you were with old billee." "i was supposed to be," answered four eyes, "until my horse got out of the corral and billee said i could trail him. that's what i was doing when i saw you behind the fire. i knew it was almost burned out, so i didn't stop, or come back to explain." "yes, the fire didn't amount to much, though how it was started is another question," said bud. "you say your black horse got out?" "yes, jumped the corral fence. he's a bad one at that." "you didn't get him back," observed nort, for he and dick, as well as bud, had noticed that the new cow puncher bestrode one of the extra ponies kept at the camp corral for use in relieving the regular animals. "no, he got clean away," and henry mellon did not seem to worry much about it. "all i have to say," he went on, "is that some one will get a mighty good mount, outside of his habit of jumping out of corrals." "you may get him back--if whoever picks him up knows where he belongs," said bud. for in that cow country it was still regarded as a great crime to steal a horse, or keep one known to belong to some one else. "oh, i'll prospect a bit farther for him tomorrow, maybe," said four eyes. "i didn't want to ride too far this evening, so i turned back. did you get on any trail of the rustlers?" he asked, for he had been aware of the object of the boys' ride. "we switched off to come over to the fire," said bud. "did you notice anything about it?" "it was burning pretty good when i struck here, from over at your camp," was the answer. "i saw that it wasn't likely to do much damage, so i didn't ride back to tell billee and the others." "did you see any one suspicious?" bud went on, getting up and putting more wood on the fire. "no, i didn't," answered four eyes, quietly. "of course anyone would have had time to start the fire, and get well away before i arrived on the scene--judging by the way it was burning," he said. "though i can't see what object anyone could have, and i'm inclined to think a passing cow puncher--not one of your crowd but some one else--may have flipped a cigarette butt into the grass where it smouldered for some time." "that may have happened," bud admitted. "as for an object, if the fire had stampeded the cattle it would have given some bunch of greasers or rustlers a chance to get away with a few steers." "oh, yes, of course," agreed four eyes. "well, i didn't see anybody. guess i may as well turn in here. no use riding back to the camp to-night. it'll soon be morning." "that's right, turn in," invited bud. his suspicions had vanished. "there's some cold coffee if you want it," added nort. "guess i'll put it on to heat," said henry mellon. "it's a bit chilly." "what time is it?" asked dick, as the cowboy stirred up the embers and set the blackened coffee pot on over some stones that had been made into a rude fireplace. "two o'clock," announced four eyes, with a glance at his watch. the boy ranchers watched him idly as he made and drank the coffee, munching some hard crackers he carried in one of his pockets. then, rolling up in their blankets, the quartette went to sleep. morning came, in due course, without any untoward incidents having occurred. the boys looked across the fire-swept area to where, beyond it, many cattle could be observed grazing. there was no further vestige of fire. the heavy dew had extinguished the last, smouldering spark. "well, i'm going back to the camp," announced four byes, as they got the simple breakfast. and how appetizing was that aroma of sizzling bacon and strong coffee! "want me to tell 'em anything for you!" he asked bud. "tell 'em about the fire," was the request. "and say we're going on the trail of the rustlers. we'll be back to-day, though, around night, for we haven't grub enough to carry us farther." "what you going to do about your horse?" asked dick. "what can i do?" asked henry mellon, in turn. "i can't spend all my time hunting him, when i've got to ride herd." "we'll be on the lookout," nort said. "hope you have luck," commented the strange cowboy, as he took off his glasses and wiped them on his silk neckerchief. "i'm lost without cinder, though this pony isn't so bad," and he patted the neck of the animal he was riding. a little later the boy ranchers were taking a short cut across the fire-blackened strip, to get on the trail of the men who had driven off their cattle, while four eyes turned the head of his pony toward camp. "well, it looks as if this was where the trail ended," announced bud, several hours later. "mighty funny, to come to an end so suddenly," commented dick. the three boys had reached one end of the many small valleys into which the larger vale was divided. they had been following the trail of the cattle that had been driven off--it was plain enough until they reached a rocky and shale-covered defile between two small hills. then, for some reason or other, all "sign" came to an abrupt end. there were no further marks of hoofs in the earth, and none of the ordinary marks to indicate that cattle and horses had been beyond a certain point. "it's just as snake said," observed dick. "they must have driven the animals here and then lifted them over the hill in an aeroplane." "they couldn't!" declared nort. "i know they couldn't. but how else do you account for it?" asked his brother. "they may have driven 'em through the pass, and then scattered dirt and stones over the trail to hide it," suggested bud. "let's look a little farther then," remarked dick. they did, but without discovering any clues. it was as though the rustlers had driven the cattle to the bottom of a rocky and bush-covered slope, and then as if the side of the hill had suddenly opened, providing a way through. "like some old fairy yarn!" declared bud. "this gets me!" "if we could only have gotten on the trail of the rascals sooner, bud, we might have learned the secret," spoke nort. "we ought to keep better watch!" "how could we?" asked bud. "we shoot off on the trail, now, as soon as we hear of anything." "yes, but we ought to get on the jump quicker," insisted his cousin. "if we had an airship, for instance!" and he laughed at the impracticability of his remark. "you can see pretty nearly the whole of the valley from the top of snake mountain," spoke dick, when he and bud had joined in the laugh at nort's airship idea. "if one of us could be up there--" "we'd have to be there all the while!" interrupted bud. "there's no telling when the rustlers will come. talk about being on the watch! it's all right to say so, but how you going to work it?" dick suddenly uttered an exclamation. "what's the matter?" his brother wanted to know. "see a snake?" "no, but i've got the idea! a watch tower! why not build one at our camp--or up on the side of the hill back of the reservoir? we could make it of logs--high enough to give us a good view. it wouldn't be much of a trick to climb up in the watch tower three or four times a day and survey the place. a watch tower is the thing, bud!" chapter xii in spite of all nort and bud stared at dick for several seconds without making any remark. they were sitting on their ponies, completely baffled by the manner in which the trail of the rustlers had suddenly "petered out." and they had been about to turn and go back to camp when dick made his enthusiastic remark. "a watch tower?" repeated bud. "sure!" declared his cousin. "we used to build 'em when i belonged to the boy scouts. remember, nort?" "sure! it begins to come back to me. we used to bind saplings together and make quite a high perch. the idea was that you might be able to see your way if you got lost," he explained to bud. "not a bad idea, either," commented the western lad. "i begin to see your drift, as the wind said to the snowstorm. you mean to build a sort of high platform up by the reservoir, dick?" "yes, a watch tower of logs, strong enough to hold one or two fellows. you could make ladders so's we could reach the top platform, or we could scramble up if we left hand and foot holds where we lopped the branches off saplings." "that's right!" cried bud, now almost as enthusiastic as was his cousin. "and with a good pair of glasses, or a telescope such as dad has at the ranch, we could see all over the valley." "let's make it!" cried nort, and the matter was settled as quickly as that. something of the excitement that had moved them must have been visible on the faces of the boys when they returned to camp, for old billee, greeting them in the absence of the other cowboys, asked: "did you land 'em, bud?" "who; the rustlers? no. couldn't see where they'd vanished to any more than, as one of the boys said, as if an airship had been used. but we got an idea, billee." "they're valuable--sometimes," agreed the veteran cow puncher cautiously. "we hope this one is going to be!" frankly laughed bud. "we're going to build a watch tower, and take turns staying up in it with a telescope. we can see almost the whole valley if we get high enough, and as there aren't many patches of woodland where the rascals can hide, we hope to spot the rustlers as soon as they begin their tricks." "well, you may do it," and again the cowboy was very cautious. "i never heard of cattle rustlers bein' caught that way, but when other means fail, try suthin' diffrunt! we'll tackle th' tower!" and as the other cowboys, even four eyes, pronounced the scheme worth trying, it was put into operation. mr. merkel, to whom bud communicated his idea over the telephone, rather laughed at it. "how about nights?" asked the ranchman. "no matter how high you are up after dark you can't see any better." "but most of the raids of the rustlers have been in daylight," declared bud. "it's about fifty-fifty," his father told him. "however, it won't do any harm to try it. only don't fall off that watch tower of yours. i'll come out and look at it when you get it done." the boy ranchers and their cow punchers started work the next day. dick and nort remembered, in a dim way, how, as boy scouts, they had helped erect towers, hastily constructed of saplings. their recalled knowledge, together with the natural adaptability and skill of the cowboys, finally succeeded in there being evolved, and erected, on the aide of the valley rather a pretentious tower. "it must look like an oil well derrick from a distance," observed nort, when it was al most completed. "what do we care how it looks, if it does the trick?" retorted bud. "from that perch, and with this telescope dad let me take, i can tell the color of a cow clear to the end of our valley." there was no question but what the watch tower did provide an excellent vantage point. from its top platform, reached by rude ladders, any unusual movement in the entire valley could be seen during the day. it was planned that the boys--and by this i mean the hired cowboys also--should take turns in being on watch in the tower during certain periods each day. a schedule was drawn up by bud and his cousins, and put into operation as soon as the tower was completed. "and now we'll catch the rustlers at work!" boasted bud. but alas for their hopes! in spite of all their precautions, and setting at naught the hard work of constructing the tower, there was another raid on the cattle in happy valley, about a week after the wooden perch had been set up. it was not a disastrous raid, and only a half score of steers were driven off from one of the more distant herds. but the raid took place, and at night. it was discovered one morning, just as bud was going up into the tower, where a seat and sheltered place had been built. "they fooled us, bud," said old billee, riding in from a distant part of the valley. "fooled us? how?" "they let us watch by day, an' they come an' robbed by night! another bunch of steers gone!" "well--by zip foster!" cried bud, slamming his hat down on the ground. "i'm getting tired of this!" chapter xiii the signal "what's the matter?" cried dick, hastening from the tent where he had been making a new loop on his lariat, in preparation for practicing some of the stunts worked by four eyes. "have you discovered something from the tower?" asked nort. "yes, i've discovered that the tower isn't any good!" exclaimed bud with emphasis. "oh, it isn't your fault, dick," he went on, as he saw that his cousin looked a bit crestfallen. "the tower is all right." "then you saw some rustlers from it?" asked nort. "no, that's the trouble," said bud, ruefully. "we didn't see them but they were here all right--last night. tell us about it, billee," he requested. "well, there isn't an awful lot to tell," said the veteran cow puncher. "i was just prospectin' around, over on that new growth of johnson grass, like you told me to, an' i saw where a steer had been killed, an' they had eat most of it, too, by th' signs." "you mean the rustlers?" asked nort. "rustlers, greasers, del pinzo's bunch--anything you like t' call 'em," asserted billee. "somebody, that hadn't any right t' do it, druv off our cattle!" "and i say it's about time it was stopped!" declared bud with as great positiveness as before. this time he picked up the hat he had dashed to the ground and dusted it off. "i'm going to do something desperate!" he declared. "what, son?" asked old billee mildly. "they's allers been rustlers in this cow country, an' they'll allers be some, i reckon. course if you can git 'em in th' _act_, they's nothin' t' do but shoot 'em up. but when you can't git 'em--" "that's what i'm going to do!" declared bud. "i'm going to get on the trail of these rustlers and clean 'em out! tell us more about it, billee. no use getting up in the watch tower now," he added, gloomily enough. "we've got other work cut out for us. go ahead, billee! shoot!" "let me give you a word of advice first, buddy boy," spoke the veteran cowboy as he slowly got off his pony, an act of grace for which the animal was, doubtless, duly thankful. billee was no featherweight, though he was as active as need be, in spite of his bulk. "what's the advice?" asked bud good-naturedly. his first hot anger was beginning to cool. "well, my advice is to leave these rustler alone," said old billee. "they's allers been rustlers here an' they'll allers be here. every cow country has 'em. they're like th' old pirates that used t' hold up th' ships. taking tribute, so t' speak." "but our country didn't pay that tribute long!" exclaimed dick, remembering the brilliant exploits of decatur against the corsains of algiers, tunis and tripoli. "'millions for defense, but not a cent for tribute'!" quoted dick in a ringing voice. "that's what i say!" chimed in nort. "well, it _is_ tribute, in a way," admitted old billee. "i was going t' say if you'd let th' rustlers make off with a few steers now an' then it would save trouble. they're used t' takin' a few. but if you fight 'em then they'll make a big raid with a big gang, an' mebby, take all you got, bud!" "i'd like to see 'em try it!" cried the western lad. "and i won't sit by and have my cattle stolen; will we, fellows?" he appealed to his cousins. "not on your life!" declared nort and dick. "well, i shore do like t' hear you talk that-a-way," said old billee. "i didn't think you'd do it. course it ain't no fun t' sit still an' let these onery greasers walk off with your cattle. but, as i say, it's sometimes easier'n 'tis t' fight 'em. lots of th' ranchmen do pay tribute in a way. your father was one of th' fust t' fight 'em, bud, but even he has sorter give up now, an' he don't raise no terrible row when a few of his steers get hazed off." "well, dad has more, and losing a few doesn't put a crimp in him," said bud. "it's different with us, and i'm not going to stand it. zip foster wouldn't and i'm not going to!" and again he dashed his hat on the ground, thereby startling billee's horse. "say, why don't you get zip foster over to help chase the rustlers?" asked dick, slyly nudging nort. they had long been trying to get bud to a "show down" on the identity of this mysterious personage. "oh, i reckon we can do it ourselves," and bud seemed to regret mentioning the name of his favorite. "just what are you aimin' t' do, son?" asked billee, as snake and yellin' kid rode up, ready for their day's work out on the range among the cattle. "i don't exactly know, but it's going to be something and something hard!" asserted bud. "are there any clues over there, billee, to give us a lead?" "not many, bud. just th' usual. they come onto a few scattered steers, killed one roasted what they wanted of it, slipped off the hide an' left th' rest t' th' buzzards. then they druv off th' remainder. i didn't foller th' trail, for i could see they was half a dozen rustlers in th' bunch, an' it ain't exactly healthy for one man t' trail a crowd like that even if he was a two-gun man, which i don't lay no claim t' bein' no how," concluded the veteran modestly. they all knew he would be brave enough in an even fight. but they all recognized the fact that it would have been foolish for him, alone, to have attempted to trail a gang of desperate men. "well, i'm going to see what we can do," bud declared. "if you've sized up all there was to see over there, billee," and he nodded in the direction of the latest raid on diamond x second, "there's no use in me going over. i think i'll go have a talk with dad," he concluded. "i want action!" "so do we!" added dick. "then come along!" invited his cousin. a little later the boy ranchers were riding out of the valley, on their way to the main ranch of diamond x. they would not be back until late that night, or, possibly, until the following morning, for bud wanted to have a good, long talk with his father, and decide on some plan of action, that would drive out the rustlers and keep them away. as old billee had said, probably an older and more experienced rancher would have put up with a few losses for the sake of peace and quietness. but bud, like most lads of his age, was impulsive. and, as he had said, the loss of even a few steers meant possible failure to him and his cousins, just starting in the ranch business as they were. "was that a black one?" suddenly asked bud, as nort's horse shied at something. "a black what!" nort wanted to know. "a black jack rabbit that ran across the trail in front of you just now," bud resumed. "if it was, it will bring bad luck, as old billee would say," and he laughed. "no, it was a sort of gray one, part white," nort answered, for it was one of those immense hares that had leaped across the trail, almost under the feet of his pony. "that means we'll have part bad luck and part good," declared dick. and some hours later, when they had reached bud's home, and nell was serving peach pie and glasses of milk to the boy ranchers, nort paused long enough in his eating to remark: "_this_ is the good luck, bud." "you declaimed something that time!" agreed his brother. mr. merkel listened to what bud and his cousins told them of the raids on happy valley. "well, you haven't suffered any more than the average ranchman, just starting in," said bud's father. "the rustlers always seem to pick on a newcomer." "well, they'll find i'm a sort of prickly pear to pick on!" asserted bud. "dad, can't we clean out these rascals?" "well, it's your ranch, bud! you can do anything you like, within reason, but i wouldn't like to see you take any foolish risks." "there's got to be some risks," declared bud. "i'm not looking to get out of 'em. but don't you think it would be a good thing if we could get rid of this del pinzo gang for good?" "sure, bud. i'll give you all the help i can, and i'll spare you one or two more men if you need 'em--for a time, that is, as we're pretty busy here." "all right. when we're ready i'll call on you," said bud, as though he had great plans in preparation. as a matter of fact, as he admitted later, he really did not know what he was going to do, but he was not going to admit that to his father. in other words he was "putting up a bluff," and i have some reason for suspecting that mr. merkel knew this. however he gave no sign. in spite of the pie, cake and other good things set out by nell and mrs. merkel, bud and his chums decided to ride back to their camp that night. it was dark at the start, but the moon would be up later, and the trail was well known. the boy ranchers rode leisurely along, for there was no special hurry in getting back. it might reasonably be supposed that the rustlers would not again make a raid within a few days at least. and old billee, yellin' kid, snake purdee and four eyes, to say nothing of buck tooth, were well able to look after matters in happy valley. and thus proceeding at a foot pace, it was well after midnight when the boys started down the last slope that led into the valley proper. in daylight it would have been possible, from this part of the trail, to have observed the tents and the reservoir. but now all was shrouded in darkness. no, not altogether darkness, for as the boys rode forward there suddenly glimmered in the gloom a light, high up in the air. at first bud thought it was a star, but a moment later as it moved from side to side, and then up and down, he exclaimed: "look, fellows! a signal!" "signal!" repeated dick. "yes. over at our camp! see! there's a light on our watch tower." "maybe there's been another raid!" said nort. "or going to be one!" spoke bud, grimly. chapter xiv four eyes--no eyes thudding along, their ponies seemingly as eager to reach the ranch camp as were the boys themselves, bud, nort and dick raced toward the mysterious light. for that it was mysterious they all agreed, and that it was flashing from the top of the watch tower they had built to spy for rustlers was another conclusion. "do you s'pose it can be old billee, or yellin' kid signalling to us?" asked nort, as he galloped between bud and dick. "they wouldn't know we were coming," bud answered. "i said we might not be back until to-morrow." "that's so. but who do you think is signalling?" asked dick. "and who are they signalling to?" nort wanted to know. "that's what we've got to find out," spoke bud, grimly. "and it's what we're going to find out in a short time! come on, sock!" he called to his pony. "this is only exercise for you!" indeed the animals had not been hard pressed, and this burst of speed was rather a relief than anything else. together the boy ranchers hastened toward their camp. for some time the lantern--it was evidently that and not a torch--was waved to and fro, parallel to the horizon, and again up and down. it was so evidently a signal, or a series of them, that the boys no longer questioned this theory. but who the signaller was, and to whom he was flashing his message in the dark night--those were other questions. and they were questions that needed answering. "it must be one of our men," remarked bud. "no one else could get into camp and climb the tower without a row being raised." "how do you know there hasn't been a row?" asked dick. "what do you mean?" countered bud. "i mean there may have been a fight," dick went on. "maybe the rustlers have surprised our camp, put yellin' kid and the rest of our bunch out of business and are signalling to the main crowd to come up and drive off the cattle. i might as well say that as think it," he added. "and that's what i've been thinking the last few minutes." this dire suggestion struck bud and nort silent for a moment. and then, more because he did not want to believe it, than because he did not believe it possible, bud exclaimed: "i don't believe any such thing!" "i don't want to believe it!" said nort. "but of course there may have been a fight." "if there was, there's a lot of dead greasers and rustlers scattered around, you can depend on that!" declared bud, grimly. "yes, i reckon old billee, snake and the rest would give a good account of themselves," asserted dick. "and they wouldn't be taken by surprise, either," added nort. "not likely," affirmed his cousin. again they directed their gaze toward the flashing signal on the tower. once more they saw it slowly raised and lowered, and then swept from side to side. "are they spelling out a message in morse or continental code?" asked bud. "it does look like the morse," said nort. "we learned that when we were boy scouts. i can make out some letters, but they don't spell anything that has any sense to it." "maybe it's in spanish," suggested bud, who was not familiar with the method of spelling words by flags or lanterns. "there's a lot of greasers around here who don't know anything but spanish." "that's so," agreed nort. "i didn't think of that. i'll try and catch what the next word is, and maybe you'll know it, bud," for the western lad understood some of the language of mexico. but just when nort was directing his attention to the signal flashes dick, who had ridden on a little ahead, suddenly called: "is that a fire?" they looked to where he pointed and, for a moment, thought it was another blaze in the dried grass. for the eastern skyline that had been only dimly seen was now outlined in a red flare. "it is a fire!" asserted nort. "it's the moon rising!" said bud. and so it proved. the moon was coming up, big, round and red, and, when below the horizon, cast a reflection not unlike a fire. the boys laughed with relieved spirits as they rode on. but when nort next directed his attention to the flashing lantern it was no longer signalling. in the direction of the watch tower there was only blackness, for the moon's rays had not yet reached it. "looks as if they'd quit," said dick. "maybe they thought the moonlight would give 'em away," suggested nort. "we'll soon know about it," declared bud, with grim meaning. they were now within a short distance of the tents, gleaming white in the moonbeams. from one of the larger canvas shelters shone a ruddy light, showing dark figures within. and then was borne to the ears of the boys the sound of laughter. "that doesn't seem to indicate a raid or fight," spoke nort. "you can't be sure," bud remarked. "we'd better be careful. let's dismount and go on foot." they left their ponies, throwing the reins over the heads of the animals, and cautiously approached the tents of the cow punchers on foot. this tent was, practically, the "bunk house," the assembling place of the men after their hours of work. but before the boys reached this their approach was evidently heard. for a figure came to the flap and a challenging voice called: "who's there?" "old billee!" cried bud, as he and his chums recognized the tones, and with the recognition came a sense of relief. "oh, you're back; are you, bud?" asked the veteran cowboy. "i thought i heard some one." "who's up on the watch tower with a lantern?" called bud, once it was certain that no disaster had occurred. "watch tower?" repeated yellin' kid, coming to the flap to stand beside old billee. "lantern?" added snake. "somebody's signalling," went on bud. "you'd better come out and we'll have a look. are you all here?" "all of us," answered old billee. "come on, four eyes!" he cried. "tumble out of your bunk. there's somethin' doin'!" "four eyes must have gone to bed early," said bud to his cousins as they stood outside the tent. for billee's call indicated that the spectacled cowboy had retired. "hi! four eyes!" shouted yellin' kid, in a voice that would have awakened the proverbial seven sleepers. "turn out!" there was a moment's pause, during which buck tooth came up to the bunk tent from his own special nook for sleeping. and then, the voice of snake purdee announced: "four eyes isn't here!" "isn't here!" repeated billee. "why, i saw him turn in a while ago, when we started t' play cards." "he isn't here now," declared snake. "his bunk is empty, and he didn't go out the front way, i'll wager on that. there's something queer going on all right!" chapter xv a big raid into the bunk tent of the older cowboys crowded the young ranch lads. doubt, suspicion and wonder mingled in their minds, and foremost of all were two outstanding matters--the mysterious signalling light, and the disappearance of four eyes--if, indeed, that individual had really taken himself off. "are you sure he was here?" asked bud, when, after the first break of surprise, questions were in order. "sure," replied yellin' kid. "we all come in here, after th' chores was done, t' have a friendly game of cards an' smoke. we didn't look for you back until late, if at all." "and was four eyes with you then?" asked nort. "you couldn't exactly say he was _with_ us," replied snake. "an' yet he wasn't _away_ from us. he pretended he didn't want t' play cards, an' he said he was so doggoned tired an' sleepy that he was goin' t' turn in. i told him that bein' in th' same tent with a whisperin' infant like yellin' kid, wasn't perzactly healthy for sleep, but four eyes said he didn't mind. so he turned int' his bunk, an' pulled th' covers tip over his head, though i don't see how he stood it, for it isn't winter, not by a long shot, an' this place was full of smoke. anyhow he done it, an' t' keep th' light out of his eyes, so he said, he pulled a chair up in front of his bunk like you see it now, an' stuck his coat over it." snake pointed to a chair, now twisted awry from in front of the cot that the missing cowboy had occupied. his coat, draped over the back, effectually screened him from observation when lying on the bed. "he did that so's he could slip out an' get away!" spoke yellin' kid, justifying the sarcastic name of "whispering infant," that snake had bestowed on him. "but how did he get out?" asked dick. "and what for?" bud wanted to know, "he got out this way!" said old billee quietly, as he leaned over the cot and pushed with his hand against the side of the tent. a right-angled opening was disclosed, cut with a sharp knife. the loose point was at the bottom, and once four eyes had slipped out, the cut flap hung down in place, not disclosing, in the dim light, that the canvas had been cut. "he got out that way," went on old billee, "because th' tent sides, bein' fast t' th' board floor, wouldn't let him crawl out very easy. he's a slick one, four eyes is!" "but why should he slip out this way? did he do anything? and who was doing that signalling?" exclaimed bud. "i reckon you'll find, son, that the signallin' an' th' vamoosin' of our late friend four eyes had some connection," spoke old billee. "we, bein' intent on our game of cards, didn't know nothin' at all 'bout it till you fellows rode up. now it's about time we got int' action!" "you win!" declared yellin' kid loudly. "there's suthin' queer prospectin' around these diggings an' i'd like t' know what it is!" "i guess we all would," spoke bud. "and we'd better start right in to find out about it. come on, boys," he called to his cousins, but the older cow punchers took the invitation to themselves also, and soon, with lanterns and flashlights (which handy little contrivances the boy ranchers nearly always carried) they began the search. first they made sure that four eyes was playing no trick on them by hiding under one of the cots in the bunk tent. though, as bud pointed out, it would pass the bounds of fun to have cut the canvas shelter as it was cut. but no trace of four eyes was to be found. "he's gone, hide, hair, horns, brand an' everythin'!" was the way old billee expressed it. "how about his horse?" asked nort. "he didn't get his black one back," remarked snake. "but he may have sort of helped himself to one of yours, bud." this was found to be the case when the corral was visited. it could hardly have been expected, in that country of great distances, that the missing cowboy would not take a horse. "and now let's have a look at the tower," suggested bud, when a rapid survey, under the fitful moonlight, had been made in the vicinity of the camp, and no trace of the missing man discovered. "some one was signalling from up there, and it must have been four eyes." "it _could_ have been some one else," suggested dick, not because he believed that, but because he wanted to sift all the evidence and get to the bottom of matters. "yes, it may have been a wandering cowboy, greaser or some indian, far from his native reservation," bud admitted. "but i'm saying it was four eyes, though why he did it i can't imagine." nor could any of the others. or, if they had a theory, they did not give voice to it, though, afterward, one and all said they had associated the missing cowboy with the rustlers. but a search on and near the hastily-built watch tower disclosed nothing. on the top platform, whence, doubtless, the signalling lantern had been waved, no light was found. there were burned matches and cigarette stubs, to be sure, but these were as much the discarded property of yellin' kid or snake, as of four eyes, for they all had taken turns doing sentry duty, and, as it was lonesome up on the high perch, smoking was indulged in. "well, he's away, and that's all there is to it," said bud, when the search was over. "now all we've got to do is to wait for something to happen." "do you think something will happen?" asked nort. "well, things have been happening ever since we came out here," observed dick. "first it was the finding of the triceratops. then it was the water fight in the mysterious tunnel, and now it's the rustlers after our cattle. isn't that enough to happen?" "oh, yes," admitted nort. "but i thought bud meant something special was about due." "it wouldn't surprise me if it did happen," declared the western lad. "but i wasn't thinking of anything out of the usual. only the combination--four eyes missing and us seeing the light makes me suspicious. so i'm ready for anything." "and i'm ready for my bunk!" declared dick, with a yawn. "it's most morning! let's turn in!" they did, but none of the boy ranchers rested well, for they were too worried. what did it all mean? and what events portended? these were questions they wished soon would be answered. the morning did not bring the return of four eyes, nor in the better light were any more clues discovered at the watch tower. looking from its height, over the peaceful valley, the boy ranchers saw nothing evil, and there was no hint of coming disaster other than in the suspicions engendered by the recent strange happenings. "do you suppose that signalling could have meant an indian uprising?" asked nort. "cracky! if it does we'll have to fight 'em, won't we?" asked dick, with sparkling eyes. "i don't imagine the indians around here have any notion of rising," said bud. "they have done such things, years ago, but i doubt if they have enough spirit left for it now. they are too well satisfied with their lot. but of course it's possible, though buck tooth says he doesn't look for anything of the sort. but then he's been with white men so long he isn't really much of an indian any more." "well, if there's any indian fighting to be done i want to do my share!" declared dick, and his brother nodded in confirmation. but as several days passed, and nothing more happened than the usual hard work on the ranch, the apprehensions of the boys began to disappear. they made inquiries about four eyes, but no one on the neighboring ranches had seen him. mr. merkel expressed himself as greatly disappointed in the character of the cowboy he had sent to his son. "maybe you got off lucky, with only a cut tent," the ranchman observed. "but better be on your guard, son." "we will, dad," replied the western lad. it was about a week after the signal lights had been observed, the disappearance of four eyes coinciding, that, as bud and his cousins were eating "grub" in camp one noon, they heard shots fired off to the north, and in the direction of the trail between happy valley and diamond x ranch. "what's that?" asked nort, starting from his seat. "stampede, maybe," suggested dick, for the boys knew that the older cowboys were in that direction, rounding up a small herd which had been purchased and that was to be shipped east. bud hurried to the entrance of the tent and what he saw caused him to cry: "come on, boys! it's the rustlers again! they're making a raid! get your guns!" in less time than you would have deemed possible, unless you had seen it, the boy ranchers were in the saddle, and were galloping toward the scene of the shooting. the sounds were more plain, now, and as they straightened out on the trail they could see where a fight was in progress. chapter xvi on the trail yellin' kid, old billee and snake purdee were standing off the attacks of more than double their number. this was the spectacle that greeted bud, nort and dick as they swept up the trail and toward the sound and sight of the firing. for now they could see the little puffs of smoke which preceded the discharges of the guns. light, traveling faster than sound, brought to the eyes of the boys the puffs of burned gunpowder before the report echoed. "this is the meaning of that night-signalling!" cried nort, as he galloped beside his cousin. "looks so," was the answer. "they're getting bold and desperate to try to rustle our stock in the day time." "you said it!" exclaimed dick, as he looked to make sure he had a good supply of cartridges. as the boy ranchers drew nearer the scene of the conflict they could observe that the herd, which their cowboys had been driving in, was now in confusion. and no wonder, with more than half a score of wildly-excited men riding among them, shouting and firing heavy revolvers. for distant shouts borne to the ears of our heroes told of the excitement under way. as nearly as bud, nort and dick could tell from their vantage point, eight or ten mexicans, greasers or other undesirable characters, had swept down from the north on old billee, snake and yellin' kid as the latter were hazing the cattle along to the trail which led to the distant railroad station. naturally the cowboys of happy valley had turned on their attackers and the fight resulted. it was evidently the intention of the rustlers (for of their character there was little doubt) to drive off as many of the diamond x second stock as possible. and if they had to kill or maim the watchers it meant little to them. but, so far, none seemed to have been seriously hurt, for no horses were running around with empty saddles, and no bodies were prostrate on the ground. i think, if the truth were known, that the first shooting on both sides was so wild that no one thought to take accurate aim, which is difficult on the back of a rushing cow pony, and with a heavy . gun. it was, essentially, a running fight and bud, dick and nort were urging their ponies forward as rapidly as possible to get their share of it. however, they were not destined to come to close grips with the enemy. for as they drew nearer to the scene of conflict, their guns out, and eager in their own hearts for action, yelling encouragement to their comrades, the boy ranchers saw their foes suddenly swing away. this sudden giving up on the part of the rustlers was due either to a signal from one of their number that the raid was a failure, or else they saw reinforcements, in the persons of the boys, and had no desire for a more nearly even battle. at any rate, with wild yells, the rustlers pulled up their ponies, and turned off down the trail, riding at break-neck speed. yellin' kid and snake, with shouts of defiance, swept after them, and might have caught them except for what happened to old billee. the veteran suddenly reeled in his saddle, and would have fallen, except that, as he lagged behind his two companions, bud rushed up to him and held him in place. "are you hit, billee?" bud cried. "only just a scratch, but it seems like it took th' tucker out o' me mighty suddin," gasped the old man. "beckon i'd better get down. i'd 'a' fallen if you hadn't rid up, bud." "that's what i thought when i saw you reel." by the time bud, with his cousins, was helping old billee to the ground, yellin' kid and snake turned and saw what had happened. they then gave up all thoughts of pursuing the retreating rustlers and came riding back, winded and excited, but none the worse for their encounter with the rascals. "did they get you, billee?" asked snake, a gleam in his eyes that portended no good to the perpetrators of the deed if he ever caught them. "only a scratch," said the old cowboy, but rather faintly. he put his hand to his side, and quickly opening his garments, as he sat on the ground, his friends saw that the wound was more than that. however, the bullet had glanced off the ribs, and aside from having lost considerable blood, which accounted for his weakness, old billee was little the worse off. "i think we got one of 'em," announced snake. "i saw him holdin' pretty desprit like t' his saddle." "what started it? who were they?" asked bud, as the last of the raiders swept out of sight amid the rolling hills of the valley. "oh, some of del pinzo's gang, you can make sure of that," said yellin' kid. "they just rid down on us an' started t' fire. we saw what their game was all right, an' come back at 'em. they didn't get one steer, bud!" he added, proudly enough. "that's good," said the boy rancher. "but they did an awful lot of shootin'," added snake. "i thought sure we'd all be hit, but old billee was th' only one what got it. i never heard so much fourth of july since i was a kid." "it was a lot of shooting, according to the results," spoke bud, as he watched snake bandaging billee's wound, for the cowboys carried a primitive first-aid kit. "i wonder if that meant anything?" "what do you mean?" asked nort. but bud did not answer. making sure that none of the cattle had been hit, and managing, after rather strenuous work, in quieting the herd, the boy ranchers and their friends started back toward camp, old billee taking it as easily as possible, for his side was getting stiff and painful. while they were yet some distance away from the white tents that corresponded to the usual ranch buildings, bud and his companions saw riding toward them a solitary figure. "it's buck tooth," declared dick. "and if he doesn't bear evil tidings i miss my guess," murmured bud. evil tidings they were, in very truth. for as the zuni came near enough he was seen to be much excited. drawing rein, he made a sweeping, comprehensive gesture with one hand, toward the south end of the valley, and exclaimed: "all gone!" "what's all gone?" asked bud, a great fear clutching at his heart. "cattle!" answered the indian. "rustlers drive 'em all 'way, while you shootin' off there!" and he pointed toward the scene of the recent conflict. for an instant bud said nothing. then, with trembling lips, which alone betrayed his feeling, he remarked: "that was it! they divided their gang and started a fake fight up at one end, to draw us there, while they worked against our big herd at the other end. it was a slick piece of work. no wonder they shot more than they hit. they wanted to keep us away from the south of the valley." "i guess you've struck it, bud," said snake, grimly. "they sure fooled us, an' i never smelled a rat! whew!" bud, with lips that were firmer now, touched spurs to his pony and hastened toward the tents and corral. "what you aimin' to do?" called yellin' kid after him. "i'm going to get on the trail of those rustlers," grimly announced bud merkel, "and i'm not coming back until i land 'em! come on, fellows," he called to his cousins. "let's pack up for a long hike on the trail!" chapter xvii wild country following after bud, his cousins and the older cowboys swept along toward the home camp--to the tents which served the purposes of ranch buildings. yellin' kid trotted beside old billee, who, however, now that his bullet-scarred side had been bandaged, rode with more ease. "what you goin' t' stop for?" asked snake, when he saw bud turning in toward the corral where spare ponies were kept. "aren't you going after the rustlers?" "yes, when we get packed up for a long ride!" bud answered grimly. "what's the good of riding over just to look at the place where they drove off our cattle? i can see that any time. what i want to do is to get on their trail." "and not give up until we land 'em!" added nort. "that's talking!" cried his brother. "did you see any of 'em, buck tooth?" he asked the indian, beside whom he was riding. "me see too many," was the grim answer, which explained why the zuni had probably not gone in pursuit. "they ride like what you call--jack-rabbits." "they can't keep that pace up long," declared bud, as he slipped from the saddle, having turned his horse into the corral. "they can start the steers off with a hip-hurrah, but they'll have to slow down if they don't want to kill 'em, and that wouldn't pay. they'd get some fresh beef and the hides, but they'd waste more than they'd get out of it." "what do you imagine they really plan to do, and who are they?" asked dick, as he and his brother followed bud to their own special tent. "i can only guess who they are, and your guess is as good as mine," the western lad answered. "then i'll say del pinzo and the hank fisher gang," ventured nort. "and i'll agree," replied bud. "they have two motives, now, for working against us. one because we've beaten 'em in two innings--the time of the triceratops and in the underground river game. but getting our cattle--or the cattle of any other rancher--is reward enough in itself at the price beef is selling for now. they want to make a lot of money, and ruin us because we've come to happy valley. but they'll find that we can bat a little, too," added bud, carrying out the simile of a baseball game. "and it's going to be our turn at the plate mighty soon!" "the sooner the better," declared nort, and his brother nodded in agreement. when old billee's wound had been further attended to, with the more adequate remedies kept in camp, there was a gathering of the "clan," so to speak, in the tent where the boys and their cowboy helpers usually ate. "then you aren't going to chase over to where they drove off your cattle right away; is that it, bud?" asked snake. "i don't see any use," said the young western ranch lad. "all we'd see would be the marks of the trail, and they'll stay for some time, if it doesn't rain, which isn't likely. what i want to do is to pack enough grub--and other things," he added significantly with a motion toward his . , "for a long trip. we've got to get at the bottom of how they drive off our cattle, and manage to get them out of the valley without leaving a trace. "that's the puzzle we have to solve, as we found out about the hidden water. up to now the raids of del pinzo and his crowd--assuming that they are the ones--have been small. they're the kind that's always going on, and a lot of the cattlemen, and dad among 'em, seem to shut their eyes to the thefts. i'm not going to do that. but what i started to say was that, up to now, the raids have been small ones. very likely they thought we wouldn't make much fuss over the steers we lost. "but this is a big raid, and the others were only leading up to it. they played to get us out of the south end of the valley, and away from our big herd so they could drive it off unmolested." "and they sure did it," added nort. "but they haven't gotten clear away yet!" snapped out bud. "we're going to take after them! they can't go fast with a big bunch of cattle, and we're bound to catch them sooner or later!" "they'll probably put up a fight," observed old billee, who was feeling much easier, now. "that's what i'm counting on, and that's why i don't want any slip-up!" exclaimed bud. "i'm going to call on dad for some reinforcements." "oh, we can handle that del pinzo gang!" boasted yellin' kid. "we could if they'd fight fair and even, maybe," assented bud. "but they'll be on the lookout for trouble, now, and they'll have a big gang of greasers with them. and while, ordinarily, one cowboy is a match for half a dozen of the ornery mexicans, you've got to be on the watch for treachery. there's no use tackling this thing unless we have a big enough crowd to meet the biggest bunch del pinzo can muster." "well, there's some sense in that," admitted snake. "i'm not afraid of any bunch of rustlers that hank fisher can scare up," he went on, "but it isn't a man's personal feelings we got to consider. it's for the good of this ranch. and, as bud says, we want to make a clean-up this inning." "that's why i'm going to have help," bud remarked, as he went to call his father on the telephone. mr. merkel whistled when he heard the disastrous news. "i didn't think they'd go at it wholesale, that way, bud," he told his son over the wire. "but you've got the right idea. go after 'em and clean 'em up! when you take the trail don't turn back until you've finished the job. i'll send you as many men as i can spare, slim degnan with 'em!" "slim? that's good!" cried bud. "now we'll make a clean up. but don't get worried, dad, if you don't hear from us in several days, or a couple of weeks. we'll probably be out of the reach of a telephone." "yes, i realize that! well, good luck to you. when you going to start?" "first thing in the morning. old billee was shot up a little, so i'll leave him and buck tooth to look after what cattle we have left. can slim and the others get here in time to start in the morning?" "they can if i send them over in the jitney which will be quicker, and save them some hard riding. have you got ponies enough for them?" "yes, plenty. get 'em over here in the gasolene gig and we'll do the rest!" laughed bud, though he was in anything but a laughing mood, his mind was grimly set on getting back his cattle, and in punishing the evil gang of rustlers that was dominating that section of the "cow country," as ranch localities are sometimes called. immediately on hanging up the receiver, bud merkel started in on a busy time. nor were his cousins less engaged. once the boy ranchers bad determined to "hit the trail," they planned to "do the trick up brown," as nort expressed it. bud proved himself to be well fitted for the task in hand, in spite of his youth. but he had been well trained by his father, and life on diamond x had put him in trim for hard fighting. it was not the first time he had had to do with cattle raids, though it was his own first experience on a large scale, and he was vitally interested. he followed the plans he had seen his father put into operation more than once. saddles, girths and lariats were looked to, as were all the various trappings of the ponies, without which the raid could not be undertaken in that country of far distances. then it was necessary to pack sufficient "grub" to last for at least a week, in case no provisions could be come upon. as for shelter, each man, and by that term i also include the boy ranchers, had a pair of blankets and a tarpaulin to spread under him on the ground. the days were hot, but the nights were cool in spite of camp fires. of course each one "packed a gun," some of the cowboys two, and there was no lack of ammunition. old billee felt badly at not being able to go. but his wound was giving him more pain than he liked to admit, and after vainly protesting that he simply must go, he agreed that perhaps it was best for him to remain behind. in the "jitney," as mr. merkel dubbed his auto, several cowboys from diamond x (including the veteran foreman slim) reached happy valley in due season. they were fitted out with ponies, and after the situation had been talked over, and every precaution against failure taken, they were ready to start early on the morning following the big raid. the outfit of the boy ranchers had been sadly depleted by the descent of the unscrupulous gang, and what cattle remained had been driven to the feeding grounds in the vicinity of the reservoir, where buck tooth, old billee and one man from diamond x could watch over them. "are we all ready?" asked bud, as he and his cousins, followed in example by the older cowboys vaulted to saddles. "i reckon so," announced slim, as he slewed around his holster with its newly-oiled . . "let's go!" said bud, briefly, and away they started. they made trail, first, to the scene of the raid. as bud and the others had anticipated, there were plenty of signs showing where the cattle had been driven off. a large herd was missing, and it must have taken a number of rustlers to have rounded them up and started them toward double z, or whatever place was to be used to change, or blur the brands, so the cattle could be sold to some innocent purchaser, perhaps. though there were not wanting, in that country, not-so-innocent-purchasers of rustled cattle. "they'll have to keep near grass and water," said slim, as he rode along with bud and his cousins. "so we'll do the same." "yes, they can't make a dry drive very far," bud agreed. "they followed this range, it seems." on reaching the scene of the raid the trail led off to the left, along a tow mountain range or wild and rugged peaks, some, evidently, of volcanic origin. at the foot of this range was grass in plenty, and, occasionally, a water hole, made possible by the fact that end's father had brought the waters of the pocut river to the valley by means of the tunnel flume. "the trail's plain enough for a blind man to follow," said yellin' kid, who rode beside snake. "but it's going to get harder in a little while," spoke snake. "we're getting into wilder country, and rocks don't take much of an impression. see, it's peterin' out now." he pointed to the surface of the ground over which they were then traveling. the grass and earth were more and more scanty, and in some places there were patches of shale and rock, on which even an iron-shod hoof would leave no mark. "yes, it's a wild country," agreed bud. "i've never been over as far as this, and i don't believe our cattle ever get here. there isn't enough feed," he added, as he looked around. the cavalcade was now in a sort of narrow gorge, or gully, with rocky walls on either side, and only scant vegetation on the bottom, where some bunch grass grew. the water seemed to have disappeared. "they can't drive cattle on a trail like this very far," said slim, looking about with critical eyes. "and yet they did come in this gulch," said bud, for the "signs" were still plain. "oh, yes, they've been here," agreed slim. "it sure is a queer trail they picked. i don't see--" he did not finish the sentence. somewhere in that lonely and wild section of happy valley a single shot rang out, making the echoes vibrate loudly, and awakening a distant coyote, who sent up a mournful howl. chapter xviii the boiling spring "what's that?" asked bud suddenly, his voice seeming almost as loud as that of yellin' kid's. the horses had been reined to a halt as soon as the shot sounded, and there was stillness which made the boy rancher's exclamation appear more vociferous than would otherwise have been the case. "what's that?" asked bud again. "some one fired," answered nort. "brilliant!" chuckled dick. "bright answer!" "almost as bright as my question," conceded bud, who was willing to admit when he had "pulled a bloomer," as some englishmen might term it. "it was a shot, though," he added. "i wonder if we'll hear any more?" they all paused, in listening attitudes; the boy ranchers, the cowboys associated with them in the happy valley venture and the others sent with slim to help run down the rustlers, on whose trail they now were. but no further firing followed in the three or four minutes they waited there in that lonely gorge, the only sounds being those caused by the restless movements of the steeds. "i wonder if some one shot at us, or if that was a signal!" remarked nort, as bud gave the sign to advance. "i didn't hear any bullet singin' out this way," drawled slim. "not that i'm hankerin' to," he quickly added. "then it might have been a signal," went on nort. "what makes you say that?" bud questioned. "because it would seem that if the rustlers are ahead of us, trying their best to get far enough away, or to get to some secret hiding place, that they might leave some behind, on the trail, to give warning when we show up," went on nort. "yes, that might be so," slowly admitted bud. "in fact i think it was, probably, a signal, and it may have been given by the same one who gave signals before." "what do you mean?" asked dick. "i mean four eyes, and the lantern flashes we saw from the watch tower that night we rode in," bud answered. "i believe four eyes was and still is, in with the rustlers, and that he gave a signal to show that everything was ready for the raid." "but the raid didn't take place until some time after we saw those flashing lights," said dick. "it takes some time to get a cattle-rustling gang together," declared bud. "i wish we could find four eyes." his gaze roved the sides of the lonely gorge, and sought to pierce the maze of the trail ahead. but as it wound in and out, following the windings of the defile, he could not see far in that direction. "if it was four eyes, he played his game mighty slick!" declared yellin' kid. "he fooled us all, includin' your paw, bud!" "well, if we get on his trail, and can connect him with the rustlers, which it won't be hard to do, i'm thinking, he won't play any more tricks," declared the western lad vindictively and with righteous anger. "but if that was a warning shot, and that's what it seems it must have been, we'd better take some precautions ourselves." "such as what-like?" asked slim, willing to let bud take the lead, as the search for the rustlers was distinctly an affair of the boy ranchers. "we ought not to go ahead, all in a bunch," decided bud. "we may run into a bunch of greasers at some turn of the trail, and if we have scouts out we can handle the situation better." "i was going to suggest it," said slim, "but i thought you'd think of it yourself, bud, being as you're your paw's son." bud was pleased at the implied compliment, and, a little later, as they advanced, they were divided into three small parties, with rear and vanguard, to insure against a surprise in back, which might easily happen. and so they advanced through the defile, keeping watch on both sides of the trail. there were still evidences that a herd of cattle had been driven along the rocky defile, but because of the rocky floor, if such it may be called, the signs were faint, and only an experienced westerner could have picked them up. but the boy ranchers were accompanied by experienced cow punchers, who knew every trick of the trail. bud had insisted that it was one of his rights to ride in the advance guard, with yellin' kid, and it was while they were performing this duty, of watching for a surprise, that they saw, just around the bend of the trail, some wisps of white vapor floating up. "there they are!" exclaimed bud in a hoarse whisper, pointing. "they've stopped there--or some of 'em have. or maybe it's the person who fired the warning shot." "might be," admitted yellin' kid, toning his voice down somewhat to suit the occasion. "better let me get off and crawl ahead, bud. i'm used to that. you hold the horses." bud realized the sense of this proposition, and he held the reins of the kid's horse, while that cow puncher slipped from the saddle, and, on all fours, crept toward the wall of rock which rose abruptly at a turn of the trail shutting off a view beyond. bud watched yellin' kid closely, the lad's hand on the butt of his . , and occasionally he glanced back to catch the first glimpse of the main party, so he might warn them. he saw the wisps of vapor rising and floating toward him. "not much smoke," mused bud. "they're using very dry wood--regular indian trick. i wonder----" a moment later he heard yellin' kid shout, and it was such a cry as indicated pain. yet bud had heard no shot. "i wonder if they knifed him?" was the thought that flashed into bud's brain. he cast caution to the winds and galloped forward, making a great racket, and casting loose the reins of the kid's steed. the sight that met bud's eyes was enough to startle him, though it was not what he expected to see. for he beheld yellin' kid standing in front of a pillar of white vapor, or, rather, the cowboy was dancing about, holding one hand in the other, and using excited slang at a rate that soon would exhaust his vocabulary, bud thought. but, more strange than anything else, was the fact that there was no sign of a fire, to cause the white vapor, nor was there any indication that anyone besides yellin' kid and bud were in the immediate neighborhood. no rustlers had started the blaze which caused the white clouds to drift upward. "what's the matter, kid?" asked bud, as he saw that something had happened. "where's the fire?" "under there!" and the cowboy pointed to the ground. "keep away from it. don't go near that spring, an' whatever you do, don't put your hand in. i did, an' i'm sorry for it!" "spring! fire! what is it, anyhow!" asked bud, as he slid from the saddle and ran forward. "it's a boilin' spring, that's what it is!" declared yellin' kid. "boilin' hot an' it near took th' skin from my hand! what you see is steam--not smoke! horned toads and hoop-skirts! it's as hot as buck tooth's tea kettle! look out for the boilin' spring!" chapter xix in a maze bud stood in amazement looking at kid and listening to what the excited cowboy was saying. then the gaze of the western boy rancher turned toward a depression in the ground, whence arose what he and yellin' kid had thought was smoke but which, in reality, was steam from a hot spring. "a boiler, eh?" repeated bud. "first i ever knew we had any so near happy valley." "me, either," went on kid. "i suspicioned what it was when i got close and couldn't smell any wood burnin'. then i put my hand out, but the steam fooled me. i didn't know the top of the water was so close, an' i dipped right down into it. whew! it was hot!" "did it scald you?" asked bud. "pretty nigh it," answered the cowboy, exhibiting a very red hand. at this moment a noise behind the two attracted their attention. they turned to see pointed at them the black openings of two . guns, and they had glimpses of eager eyes looking over the sights of the weapons. "don't shoot! i'll come down!" laughed bud, in imitation of what was the current saying concerning the famous davy crockett. "what is it?" asked nort, owner of one of the menacing guns, as he arose and slid his . into the holster. "did they get away?" dick wanted to know, as he stood beside his brother. the two boys had left the main body and worked their way up to join the vanguard, in the persons of bud and kid. "there wasn't anyone to get away," bud answered grimly. "it was only a boiling spring, and we took the steam of it for smoke." "boiling spring!" cried nort. "i never saw one before." "me, either," added his brother, and together they looked at the depression in the ground, filled with scalding hot water. at times it bubbled up, like some great kettle over a fire, and then the steam was as thick as the smoke at some camp fire when green wood is used. again the spring was comparatively quiet. "i've seen 'em before," remarked bud, "though i didn't know we had any so near happy valley. there's lots of 'em out in the yellowstone park region, and in other places, some not many miles from here." "any volcanoes?" asked nort. "or geysers?" dick queried. "not that i know of," bud answered. "you don't need volcanoes to make boiling springs, though i suppose the hot water must be boiled over some internal fire beneath the earth's surface. and these same fires do, sometimes, make volcanoes. "but i've never seen any volcanoes around here; have you, fellows?" and he appealed to the cowboys. "not since i came up from mexico," one answered. "i was close to one there. and i've seen old faithful, and some of the other geysers in the yellowstone." "they put soap in some to make 'em spout, don't they?" asked dick, who remembered to have read something to that effect. "so i've heard," the cowboy said, "though it isn't supposed to be done. it sort of wears out the geyser, i believe, though i don't know much about such things. anyhow, i don't know of any around here, though i have seen a few boiling springs, farther to the south." "yes, i have, too," bud admitted. "well, here's one, and she sure is hot," he added, as a sudden activity on the part of the phenomenon sent up another cloud of steam. "we could boil eggs there if we had any." "we brought some along," dick said, "but they're hard-boiled already. no use doing the job over. say, but this is interesting!" he added, as the spring suddenly spouted up a little way, almost like a miniature geyser. "it would be more interesting if we could get closer on the trail of that gang of cattle thieves, and take away our steers," said bud. "i wonder if the poor animals hurried in here for water, and couldn't drink it because it was hot?" he recalled days of helping haze cattle on long trails, when the creatures were tormented by thirst, and he knew how they suffered. "there are a few signs that they've been in here," remarked slim, as the party was gathered around the boiling spring. "but they aren't here now." "not much use in us staying here, either," commented bud, as he looked around on the bleak and cheerless prospect. except for the boiling spring there was no sign of natural life. all about were great and small rocks, piles of shale and jagged stones, as though the place had been swept by a prehistoric fire. they were in one of the twists and turns of the rocky defile, and it was a rocky pass, with no trees or grass growing except near the top, and these appeared to be a sort of overgrowth from the grass and foliage growing down above. "no, they didn't stop here long," declared yellin' kid. "they passed on, an' that's what we got to do." "might as well stay here and have grub, now we're dismounted," suggested nort. the idea was voted a good one, and was soon put into operation. they ate and talked of what had passed and what lay before them. of the latter they could only conjecture, but it is safe to say that not one of them in his wildest imagination ever conjectured such an ending to their trailing as actually occurred. "well, let's get on," called bud, when appetites had been satisfied--that is all but those of the horses. there was no grass for them, though they did manage to drink some of the water from the boiling spring where it had collected in little pools, and had cooled. but this would never have sufficed for hundreds of cattle. once more they were on the way, and shortly afterward they left the grim and rocky defile for a more fertile region, where there was grass for the animals. but they were still down between a range of high hills which towered on either side. the trail twisted and turned, this way and that, winding back and forth. but ever there was to be seen, here and there, signs that the herd of cattle had been driven this way. faint the signs were, at times, and at last they disappeared altogether. "where have they gone?" asked nort. "looks like they dropped down a hole, but there isn't any hole here," said yellin' kid. "oh, we'll pick the trail up later on," suggested bud. but even as they started off once more bud, who had just consulted a compass he carried, uttered a cry of amazement. "what's the matter?" asked slim. "we're going the wrong way," declared bud. "we're heading north instead of south. we're all turned around! something's wrong!" chapter xx a surprise some of those in the rear, who had heard bud's exclamation, but who had not clearly heard what he said, came crowding up. among them was snake purdee, and his eyes sparkled with hidden emotion as he inquired: "did you see any rattlers? this is just the place for 'em!" "yes, we came acrost a nest of baby ones what had lost their mother, an' they're countin' on you t' bring 'em up on th' bottle!" laughed slim. the men, more or less, poked fun at snake because of his great fear of reptiles, and slim could not forego this chance. but snake understood the game, and realized that he had nothing to fear. he shot a look at slim, however, which indicated that there would be an attempt, later, to get even. "what's wrong?" asked slim, for in his endeavor to play a joke on snake he had not paid much attention to what bud was saying. "we're all turned around," spoke the western lad. "all in a maze. we started out, heading south, and we've kept, generally, to that direction ever since. but now we're heading back north. looks like we'd lost the trail." slim and some of the more experienced cowboys studied the trail for several minutes. surely it did seem to "peter out," as yellin' kid expressed it, though it had been fairly plain up to this point. "they couldn't get up on either side," declared nort, looking at the steep, rocky walls which hemmed the trailers in right and left. "and they haven't gone on ahead, for there isn't a sign," added dick, who had ridden up the defile for some little distance, returning to make his report. "nothing short of an air ship could have lifted up a bunch of cattle from this gorge and set 'em down farther on." "unless they went through a hole in one of the side walls," suggested slim, "like that underground river you fellows discovered in the tunnel." "there are no side passages here," declared bud. and he seemed to hold the correct view of it, the others agreeing, after a careful inspection of the rocky and shale-covered walls on either hand. "it looks just as if they came up to this point and--vanished!" "pretty slick work--i'll give del pinzo credit for that," said slim, as if it were already established that the wily greaser halfbreed had made the descent on happy valley. "how he and his bunch could haze cattle this far into a rocky pass, an' then make 'em disappear, gets me!" "it shore do!" shouted yellin' kid. "but that doesn't change the fact that we're all switched around," declared bud. "we're going north instead of south!" "not so hard to account for that," said snake. "this vale just naturally twists and turns like a windin' river. i wouldn't wonder but what we'd been going north other times, only you never noticed your compass, bud." "well, maybe so," admitted the boy rancher, rather dubiously. "but it looks as if we were back-trailing, instead of keeping on after those rascals." "we're keeping on all right!" asserted slim. "by some hook or crook they've fooled us, but we haven't passed 'em, that's certain, and they must be somewhere up ahead. it would take rocky mountain goats to scramble up there," he added, motioning toward the steep walls of the gorge. "some trick ponies might do it, but no cattle ever could, unless they're like some of them swiss cheese brand i seen in pictures!" "then do you think we should keep on?" asked dick. "i shore do!" declared the foreman. "forward march!" cried bud, with a little laugh. "we want to get our cattle back, and catch the rustlers who took 'em!" and so, though all signs of the trail seemed to have vanished, they kept on. night saw them in even a wilder region, though there was a spring of water--not boiling this time--and some grass for the animals. so it was decided to camp there and take up the search in the morning. they were in the enemy's country in every sense of the word, and could afford to take no chances. so after a fire had been built, and coffee made, bacon and flapjacks being the other items on the bill of fare, the men and boys were told off into watches. bud and slim, nort and snake, and dick and yellin' kid were assigned to divide the night among them working as partners in the order named. the others were to be allowed to roll up and get what sleep they could, bud and slim taking the first watch. that passed off uneventfully, as did the vigil of nort and snake, nothing more important occurring than the distant howls of the coyotes. when it was the turn of dick and yellin' kid they rolled out, albeit sleepy and tired, to stand guard until morning, when the trail would again be taken up. "zimmy! but it's chilly!" said kid in a low voice, as lie tossed some wood on the fire and wrapped his blanket more closely about him. "yes, it always is just before sunrise," added dick. "i wonder what we'll find after daylight?" "i hope we find that ornery bunch!" murmured yellin' kid, keeping down his voice so as not to awaken the sleepers. "so do i," said dick. then they sat about the fire, occasionally strolling around the improvised camp, to make sure that none of their enemies were creeping up on them in the darkness. the stars shone clear and bright in the sky above, and occasionally a little wind swept up the dismal defile. now and then a loose stone rattled down the sides of shale and volcanic rock, and at such times dick, and even yellin' kid started, and felt for their guns. but all the alarms were false ones. that is, the watchers decided they were, for no sight was had of anyone until dick, after a stroll about the fire, suddenly started back and whispered to yellin' kid: "isn't that a head looking up over that rock?" the kid glanced to where dick directed his gaze, and, in an instant, the cowboy had his weapon out and leveled. his finger was even pressing the trigger when he laughed silently and thrust the . back in its leather case. "why didn't you shoot?" asked dick. "it was an owl," answered kid. "it was his ears you seen stickin' up! listen!" and, a moment later, there was the mournful hooting of the nocturnal bird, which had flown away, but on such downy-feathered wings that it made no sound. "an owl!" murmured dick. then he was glad he had not shot first, as he had intended. he would only have awakened the others and been laughed at for his pains. sometimes, he reflected, it was better to hold your fire, even in the west, that region of quick action. soon there was a little grayish, pinkish light to be observed over the edge of the eastern hill. it grew slowly, and daylight came, though it was some time before the sun itself was seen, so deep were the searchers down in the defile. after breakfast they set out again, looking carefully for signs of the rustlers, but they saw none, and at last they decided that, in some mysterious manner, their quarry had given them the slip. "though i don't see how they did it," declared slim, somewhat vexed that he and his men were not better able to pick up the trail. "there must be some side passage--like that!" suddenly declared yellin' kid, leaping from his horse and then, as suddenly disappearing from the sight of his companions. "hey! what's the idea! where'd he go?" asked snake. "in this side passage," answered yellin' kid, as suddenly reappearing. "look, here's a crack, or fissure in the rock, i saw it from where i sat on my pony. it goes off from th' main trail, but i can't see where it leads." they all dismounted and investigated. as the kid had said, it was a traverse defile, opening out of the main one and almost at right angles. the opening was concealed behind a great pinnacle of rock, so that the cleft was only visible from a certain point, and it was at this point that the kid saw it. "where does it go to?" asked bud as they entered, single file. it was only wide enough for that. "we've got to follow and see!" said slim. "if there was a place like that, back where we discovered we were in a maze, it would have been easy enough for the rustlers to have driven the cattle through, one at a time," observed nort. "but there wasn't any such place!" declared bud. "we made sure of that. but where does this lead?" that was what they all conjectured, and they were soon to learn. as they rode along, the side cleft widened, until there was room enough for three to ride abreast. and it was while thus progressing that dick, who was in the lead with slim and snake, made a surprising discovery. he rode around a turn in the new trail, and at the sight of something beyond, in the smaller, rocky defile, he set up such a shout as brought all his companions to his side. "what is it?" shouted bud. "look!" answered dick, pointing. "del pinzo and big gang!" chapter xxi in pursuit two deep-throated shouts echoed amid the winding mazes of the small canyon leading off from the main gulch that the boy ranchers and their friends had been following. one shout followed closely on that of dick, announcing his amazing discovery. the other came from the band of rascals whose hiding place had at last been spied out, and by a mere chance at that. one shout was that of joyful anticipation, and this came from bud, dick, nort and the friends from diamond x. this shout had in it an anticipation of righteous punishment to be inflicted on those who had stolen the cattle. the other shout was of baffled rage that their hiding place had been discovered. this shout came from del pinzo and his gang. for it was the lawless mexican half-breed and his followers, numbering in all more than two score, whom dick had seen as he made the turn in that winding and narrow gorge. at a place where the rocky defile flared out, making a sort of amphitheatre there were gathered about a spring of water, their horses tethered where they could crop the scanty herbage, the crowd of which our friends had long been in pursuit. following the two shouts--one of pleased discovery and the other of baffled rage at being discovered--there was quick action. "here they are!" shouted bud, as soon as he had joined dick, and had seen what the latter had fairly stumbled upon. "here's the del pinzo crowd!" up came riding nort, slim, snake and the others. "oh, boy! we've got 'em just where we want 'em," was the exclamation of yellin' kid. and i leave you to judge in what tone he uttered the words. "unlimber, boys!" called slim degnan, grimly and significantly as he whipped out his . . "there's likely to be action!" "hold on! wait a minute!" counseled snake, as bud and his cousins were about to urge their horses forward. the cowboy reached out, and his hand fell with a firm grip on the bridle of bud's steed. "what's the idea?" asked that boy rancher. "now we've found the rascals, can't we go in and clean 'em up?" "that's natural bud, most natural," conceded snake. "but what's th' use runnin' your head in a bee's nest if yon can git th' honey some other way?" "you mean it won't be safe to ride up to 'em and fight 'em?'?" asked nort. "somethin' like that, yes, son," answered the cowboy. "i think del pinzo an' his crowd have been waitin' for just such a chance as this. they'd ask nothin' better than t' have us rush 'em, an' then they'd have a good excuse for sayin', afterward, that they popped us off in self-defense." "snake's right!" declared yellin' kid, modulating his voice somewhat. "we'd better play this hand cautious like." seeing that this was the sentiment of the more experienced men, bud and his cousins held back, and a moment later, urged by the cowboys, the ranch lads had turned aside and the whole body of pursuers had retreated to a position somewhat away from the turn of the trail where dick had looked through the defile and had seen the rascals encamped. "what's the next move?" asked nort, as the party gathered together, giving their horses a breathing spell, for which the animals were, doubtless, very thankful. "we'd better look for some shelter," advised snake, "an' then see what we can do toward learnin' th' intentions of this bunch of bad actors." "you mean sort of spy 'em out?" asked dick. "that's it," chimed in yellin' kid. "if this is goin' to be a fight, an' it shore looks as if there was, we want to take all th' advantage we can. they outnumber us two to one!" this was true enough. the fleeting glimpse our friends had of the outlaws, through the crack in the rocky wall, showed that there were more than two score under the leadership of the unscrupulous del pinzo. following the skilful advice of the cowboys, bud and his cousins took their places behind some sheltering rocks, leading their horses in with them, for much depended on their mounts. without them it meant giving up the chase. and even if one pony was killed or wounded, it meant that its owner would have to make his way back on foot, which was neither pleasant nor safe. "get your guns ready," said slim. "there's going to be action, but not just yet. we want this to be a winnin' fight if we can make it so." once within comparative shelter, and feeling somewhat calmer after the first wild excitement, bud, nort and dick looked to their older companions for further advice. "somebody's got t' go back t' that crack, unbeknownst t' them scoundrels, an' see what they're doin'," decided slim. "s'pose they're there yet?" asked bud. "either that, or they've taken the alarm an' are on their way, or they're doin' just what we are--gittin' ready for a fight," said the foreman grimly. "an' what it is they're doin' we want t' know. snake, you're pretty good at indian tactics. s'pose you sneak up there an' take a look in." "all right," was the ready answer. of course bud, nort and dick, each and every one of them, wished they had been selected for this duty. but while they were rapidly learning the ways of the west, in dealing with desperate characters, it was better at this time to have an experienced man spy out the movements of del pinzo and his gang. this snake set out to do. "an' while he's gone, th' rest of us want t' sort of make up our minds what t' do," said slim. "if that bunch is gettin' ready t'rush us, same as we may be able to do on our own hook, we want t' have some plan of action." so a sort of council of war was held, during the absence of snake, who was soon lost to sight among the rocks, the cowboy making his way in a crouching, crawling position that almost resembled the reptiles he so feared and hated. there was some low-voiced talk among the remaining cowboys, in which talk bud and his cousins had no part. for a moment the lads feared there was some scheme afoot to put them in places of safety, out of danger so to speak. and the boy ranchers weren't going tamely to submit to this. "i say, slim," exclaimed bud, with this fear in mind, "we are going to do our share in this fighting, you know!" "shore i know it!" grunted the foreman. "you'll have all th' scrappin' you want, if these fellows don't vamoose without firin' a shot! we was just talkin' of the best place t' put you." "oh," murmured bud, "all right." after some little talk, and a survey of the ground to which the pursuers had retreated in order to make a temporary stand, each person's position was designated, and then guns were loosed in holsters and the supply of cartridges was looked to. "as soon as snake comes back we'll know what t' do," slim said. "he ought to be along soon now," remarked dick. hardly had he spoken than there was a noise among the loose rocks and boulders some distance up the gulch--in the direction the spying-out cowboy had taken. "here he comes!" exclaimed bud, and his hand went to his gun, for it was very possible that snake would be pursued, and have to retreat on the run. however the alarm proved to be a false one, for, after waiting some time, snake not having appeared, it was surmised that some rock had become loose and rolled down the steep side of the gulch. the waiters and watchers were just beginning to get a bit worried, and bud was on the point of suggesting that he be allowed to go look for snake, when the cowboy came back. so quietly did he approach, and so unexpected was his appearance that nort and dick, on whose side of the improvised "fort" snake first showed himself, were startled. "if that had been any of the del pinzo crowd they'd have been on top of us before we knew it," confessed nort. "not much!" laughed bud. "slim has seen snake coming along this last three minutes; haven't you, slim?" "yep! i noticed him, but i didn't say anythin'," acknowledged the foreman. "i seen that he was alone. but what's the verdict, snake?" he asked, anxiously. "are they gittin' ready t' come at us here, or are they leavin'?" "neither one," was the answer, "but they're gettin' ready to do suthin! they're all in a bunch in the middle of that place, holdin' a confab, i reckon. it's hard to say what they are up to. but i got a hunch that if we rushed 'em we could throw a scare int' 'em, anyhow." "do you think they know we're here?" asked bud. "oh, sure!" was the answer. "at least they saw us an' heard us when we reached that crack. but of course they can only guess what we're up to now, when we didn't rush 'em first shot. they might have known, though, what our plans was, if i hadn't cracked their spy on the head!" said snake, calmly. "you did what?" asked slim. "just as i got t' th' place where i could look in," went on the cowboy, "i saw one of them greasers up t' the same trick i was tryin' to pull off. he was sneakin' down this way, but i saw him first. caught a glimpse of his head around the edge of a rock; i just reached out with my gun and tapped him on the noodle." "kill him?" asked dick. "no. guess not. just stretched him out so he can't go back an' tell any tales for a time. now the way i figger it is this: they'll be waitin' for a report on what their spy sees, same as you was waitin' for me t' come back. only their spy won't show up for a couple o' hours, an' that gives us a chance to act." "what had we better do?" asked yellin' kid. "rush 'em!" instantly decided snake. "let's git t' that openin' as quiet as we can, an' rush right for 'em! this rest has freshened our horses, an' we're in better shape now." "not so much so, as far as horses go," dubiously declared slim. "they're pretty badly spent, and can't do much racin'. but i guess maybe it is better for us t' get into action, instid of waitin' for that bunch t' come here. as snake says, they'll be lookin' for their spy t' come back, an' maybe we can take 'em unawares." so, after some further talk, it was decided to mount again, ride to the opening that led from the main trail into the hiding place of the outlaws, and boldly attack them. true, our friends were outnumbered, but they had right on their side, and this sometimes makes a difference. also they would have a little advantage, they hoped, in making the attack somewhat unexpectedly. for though del pinzo and his crowd knew the ranchmen were in the neighborhood they would, as snake believed, await the return of the spy they had sent out, before doing anything. "an' that spy won't come t' his senses very soon," declared the avenging cowboy. "when he does he'll have an awful headache!" as quietly as possible they made their way to the opening. slim, as a sort of captain, was in advance of the others and looked in. he came back to say: "they're gettin' ready for suthin'! they're all standin' near their horses, an' seem to be plannin' a move. get ready t' rush in when i give the word!" there was a final look to arms and saddle leathers, and then the foreman cried: "get into action!" at the same time spurring forward his pony, an example followed by all the others as they rushed into the defile. and action there was, but not exactly of the kind the boy ranchers and their friends anticipated. for del pinzo (easily recognized among the lesser lights of rascaldom) with his followers, after their first angry shouts, leaped for their horses. and their agility in that respect spoke well for their preparedness. in an instant, it seemed, every one of the two score, and more, was in saddle, and headed out of the defile. they were retreating--riding away from the following avengers, and going, it seemed, further into the maze of winding clefts amid the mountains. to the credit of del pinzo--if credit it be and if he be entitled to get credit--he rode at the rear, not starting his horse until all his men had raced away ahead of him. and then, as bud, dick and the others pressed into the defile after them, the greaser turned and fired once, but with such quick action that eye could scarce follow the motion of his hand and weapon. there was a sharp crack and the hat of yellin' kid, who rode immediately behind bud, sailed off his head, at the same time that a bullet zipped viciously over the pursuers. "close call that, kid!" remarked snake, leaning over as his horse galloped forward, and picking up his friend's hat. "close nothin'!" snapped out yellin' kid. "that was fancy shootin'! if del pinzo wanted to get me he could 'a' done it. he can mark out th' pips on a ten spot card with his eyes shut, almost! he shot my hat off just to show he wasn't aimin' t' spill no innocent blood! but wait until i get him! i'll make him sweat for that! a hole through brim an' crown! why couldn't he be decent about it an' make it one?" grumbled yellin' kid as snake handed him the hat. "never mind that!" shouted slim degnan. "if we're going t' get them fellers we got t' ride!" that was evident, for even as he spoke del pinzo, the last of the outlaws, disappeared around a turn in the defile. he was "hazing" his men along to some other hiding place, it appeared. and he and his rascally followers seemed to know their ground, for they rode at break-neck pace, without fear of what lay beyond and unseen. it is likely they had traveled that route before. another advantage lay with the rustlers. their horses were fresh, for from the negligent attitudes assumed by the men when dick had discovered them, it was evident they had been at ease for some time, whereas the pursuers had been on the trail a long time, and the way had been rough and stony. so it is nothing to the discredit of the boy ranchers that they and their friends were distanced in the first wild rush following the discovery and alarm. "come on!" cried bud. "come on!" and he and dick for the moment were in the lead, the canyon being wide enough, here, for several to ride abreast. "we've got to get 'em!" "and we won't stop until we do!" added his cousin. but they reckoned not with the roughness of the way, the start the rustlers had, their fresher horses and the fact that del pinzo and his crowd were more familiar with the trail than were the boy ranchers. so though our heroes rode on as fast as they could go with comparative safety, they did not, for some time at least, again come within sight of the enemy. "wait there! hold on a little!" finally called slim to bud, dick and nort, who, in their youthful and natural eagerness, had forged to the front in a bunch. "pull up! this isn't a hundred yard dash! it's going to be a long race!" bud was beginning to believe this, and some of his first exuberance was disappearing. he was getting more cool-headed. "let's take it a bit easy," he said to nort and dick. "i guess we've got a long trail to follow." "but we've got to get 'em!" declared dick. "you got rid of something that time!" commented his brother, meaningly, if slangily. "we're going to make 'em give back our cattle!" "say!" suddenly cried bud. "that's the queer part of it! where are the steers?" and for the first time it occurred to the minds of the boy ranchers that of that quarry they had come most in search of they had had not a glimpse. not a steer was in sight! something of the amazement they felt must have been depicted on their faces, for when slim rode up to where the boy ranchers had halted he asked: "what's the matter?" "where are the cattle?" asked bud, shouting almost as loudly as yellin' kid would have done. "did you notice they didn't have a one with them, slim?" "yes. are you just waking up to that, bud?" "i reckon i am. but what does it mean?" "it means that there's a deeper game being played than we have any idea of, son. we've got to go some to get to the bottom!" chapter xxii bud's discovery once it became evident that catching the rustlers was likely to be the work of a long chase on the trail, the whole party of pursuers came to a halt beside the boy ranchers. and after some rapid talk of what might lay beyond their stopping place, in a lonely, wild and desolate section of the defile, the conversation switched to what had surprised bud and his cousins--the absence of the cattle. "i s'posed they were driving the steers ahead of 'em all along," admitted north "they drove the animals off our ranch, and i didn't think but what they were hazing 'em along to some place where they could change or blur the brands, and then sell 'em." "that's what i thought, too," acknowledged dick. "well, i must say i didn't think much about it," confessed bud. "when i saw del pinzo and his gang in there all i wanted to do was to come to hand-grips with 'em. i forgot all about the cattle. but after we'd chased along a bit i did begin to wonder where my animals were--_our_ animals, i should say," he corrected himself with a glance at his cousins. however, they understood. "they must have gotten the cattle over to double z, or wherever it is they dispose of 'em," suggested dick. "they couldn't--not in this short time," declared slim. "we followed 'em too close. besides, there isn't a sign of any cattle having been here, nor in that place where we surprised th' head greaser and his gang. not a sign of cattle!" he looked up and down the gorge, as did the other cowboys. but not even the sharpest eye could detect the faintest "sign" of the steers having been driven along the passage. "they must have them hidden somewhere," said dick. "we'd better go back to the place where the sign petered out. there must be some opening there out of the main canyon." "if there is it's so well hid that it takes sharper eyes than i've got to find it," declared snake, and he was noted for his far-seeing and clear vision. "go _back_!" exclaimed north impulsively. "we aren't going back, are we, until we get del pinzo and his gang?" "shoot 'em up--that's what i advise!" cried yellin' kid. there was a moment's pause, and bud spoke. "we're got two things to do," said the boy rancher. "one is to get our cattle back, and the other is to nab the rustlers. but it's more important to get the cattle, i think. "if we don't do that our ranch experiment will be a failure," he went on. "but, of course, for the sake of other ranchers, it would be a mighty good thing if we could put del pinzo and his rustler crowd out of business." "can't we do both?" asked nort. "that's what i was coming to," his cousin continued. "if we can get on the trail of the hidden steers--for hidden they are, i'm sure--we can haze them back to the valley. then we can keep on after this crowd," and he nodded toward the winding trail that led down the narrow defile. "then you think we'd better go back!" asked dick. "let's see what slim says" answered bud. naturally he would turn to his father's foreman for advice. "oh, you're leavin' it t' me, are you?" asked slim, as he finished rolling his cigarette, a feat he could accomplish with one hand. then he lighted it, took a satisfying puff and went on: "if you ask my advice i'd say to go back an' see if you can't locate the cattle. as bud remarks, they're dollars an' cents. th' rustlers aren't, though it would be a mighty good stunt t' wipe 'em off th' face of this cow country. but maybe we can attend to _them_ later." "turn back she is!" exclaimed bud, accepting, as did the others, the advice of slim as being final. "we'll see if we can find the cattle, and then haze them to a safe place. after that we'll nab del pinzo and his bunch--if we can," he added, as a saving clause. "suits me!" remarked yellin' kid, taking off his hat and looking at the two bullet holes. "that nabbin' part is what i want t' play at," and his grin suggested that when he and the greaser met there would be some interesting happenings. it having been thus decided that the pursuit would be abandoned for the time being, a sort of council of war was held to settle on the next course. "i say grub!" exclaimed bud, knowing that the suggestion would come with better grace from him than from some of the men who were working for him and his father. "let's eat!" there was no debate on this question and when the ponies had been turned loose to graze on what scanty grass they could find, a fire was made and preparations started for feeding the hungry posse. for they were that--both hungry and a posse, bent on the capture of the lawless rustlers. though, for the time, righteous revenge was given over to the more practical side of the question--getting back the cattle. probably you do not need to be told that little time was wasted over the meal, simple as it was. cowboys, on the trail, or otherwise engaged in their work of the ranch or range, do not spend much time over the pleasures of the appetite. there is a time for feasting, and a time for chasing cattle rustlers, and there was no sense in combining the two. that, evidently, was the thought in the minds of bud and his friends, for they hurried through their eating, and, having rested the horses, were soon in saddles again. "now," remarked bud, talking the matter over with slim, "what is the best plan?" "to get back, as fast as we can, t' th' place where we saw th' last signs of th' cattle," was the foreman's answer. "the unravelin' of th' skein of mystery, t' use a poetical expression, bud, is there!" they all agreed with this view of it, and after a short ride down the defile, to see, if by chance, any of the del pinzo crowd might be in evidence, or returning, the back trail was taken. "we aren't going to discover much this day," observed bud, as he rode slowly along between nort and dick. "why, did you see a black rabbit?" nort asked, remembering what had happened when a similar incident occurred, just before the strange events narrated in the chapter preceding this. "no, i didn't see a black jack," bud answered. "but it won't be long until dark, for we don't get the full benefit of the afternoon sun down in this gorge. and we can't do anything except by daylight. no use looking for sign in the dark." "that's right," agreed nort. "but i was afraid it was a black rabbit you'd seen." "as if we didn't have enough bad luck without that," commented dick. "it's as bad, losing your herd as it is not to have enough water to give 'em what they need," and he referred to the time when, by the efforts of this same del pinzo, the supply for the reservoir of happy valley was cut off. "oh, well, it might be worse," observed bud, with a sort of cheerful, philosophical air, for he was of rather a happy disposition. "how?" asked snake, for he was rather "sore" because del pinzo and the rustlers had escaped. perhaps snake felt that he might have gone in and captured the outlaws single-handed when he was on the lone spying expedition. "well, i might never have had any cattle for those fellows to steal," went on bud. "but say, boys," he went on, as they came to a place where the trail seemed to divide. "let's take this other road back. it looks a bit easier, and we want to favor the ponies all we can." "go ahead," advised slim, to whom bud looked for confirmation of his plan. "anything that makes it easier for th' horses makes it more sure for us. and we may have a long hunt ahead of us." the care taken by the boy ranchers and their friends of their animals was not exaggerated, nor unusual. in the west so much depends on a man's horse--his comfort and very life, often--that it is a foolish fellow, indeed, who will not bestow at least some thought and care on his horse. the animal becomes a trusted companion and friend to the cowboys and prospectors. so, in order, as he hoped, to provide an easier means of getting back to the place they wished to reach, bud led the way along a different trail on the retreat. it was practically a retreat, though one they had selected for themselves, since the outlaws had distanced them. it was rather a dejected bunch of boy ranchers and their friends that were now back-trailing. there was not much talk, after the excitement of the attack which had "petered out," and even bud, gay and cheerful as he usually was, now seemed to have little to say. it was dick who startled them all by suddenly exclaiming: "look ahead there! isn't that a man on the trail?" he, with nort and bud were in advance of the others. dick pointed toward the place where he thought he saw something suspicious. "i don't glimpse anything," observed nort. "nor i," said his cousin. "he's gone now," dick stated. "but i did see some one, and i'm almost sure it was a greaser. looked just like one of their hats." "what is it!" called slim, for he caught snatches of the rather excited talk of the boys. "dick thought he saw one of the del pinzo gang," answered bud. "maybe he's the fellow i cracked on the head," suggested snake. for they had lost sight of that individual in the mad rush into the canyon, and had not seen him when they turned back. "say, wouldn't it be a good thing to capture him?" asked bud eagerly. "we could make him tell where the others are, and where our cattle are hidden." "if we can get him," conceded slim. "there he is again!" cried dick. "come on, fellows!" disregarding, or forgetting the travel-weary horses, the ranch lad urged his own steed ahead at as rapid a pace as the animal could be induced to develop in a spurt. "take it easy!" advised nort to his brother, but he might as well have called to the wind, for dick was off and away. "i don't see anything!" cried bud, and though he had looked eagerly forward at dick's call he had glimpsed neither hat nor face of any personage who might be suspected of being one of the del pinzo gang. but, even with that, bud was not going to miss a chance to be in at the finish of whatever was about to happen, so he spurred his animal forward. "come on, boys!" cried slim to his comrades. "we can't let those youngsters tackle this game alone--'specially when if there's one of the rustlers there may be more. _pronto_!" he galloped forward, as did the others, along the new trail that bud had suggested taking. but dick was in the lead, and, in a few seconds, was out of sight beyond an outcropping ledge of rock, which narrowed the trail at this particular point. "watch your step there, boys!" cried snake, as he saw what was likely to prove a bad turning. "i don't see how dick got around it as he did, taking it at the gallop," he went on. and, as it happened, dick had not exactly made it, for when bud and nort reached the dangerous turn, slightly after dick had disappeared abound it, they saw no sight of their companion. "pull up!" cried bud sharply. "there's something wrong!" nort was beginning to think so himself, and he hauled his steed back with such good will and energy that the animal was almost on its haunches. "where in the world did he go?" cried bud. nort asked the same question, for there lay the narrow trail before them, running along a ledge, with a shelving bank of shale and sand on one side and a towering face of rock on the other. snake purdee raced at such speed around the turn, in spite of his own admonition to the boy ranchers, that the cowboy nearly ran down bud and nort. "where's dick?" cried snake, at once aware that the stout lad was not in sight. "he's vamoosed--somewhere," said bud. "maybe he met-up with that greaser and----" at that moment, however, there came a cry, unmistakably of distress, seemingly from some distance ahead and down below the high and narrow trail on which the party had come to a halt. "there's dick now!" cried nort, recognizing his brother's voice. "where in the world is he?" asked bud, looking about. in answer snake pointed down the sloping bank of shale and sand, and there, at the bottom, was dick, half buried in the soft material, and his horse, with twisted saddle, was standing near by, looking rather the worse for wear. and if the countenance of the animal had been visible it would doubtless have shown pained surprise. "what's' the matter? what you doing down there?" called nort to his brother, as dick proceeded to extricate himself from the sand and shale that covered him almost to his neck. "you don't s'pose i'm down here for fun, do you?" floated up the somewhat sarcastic answer. "i came around that turn too fast and the horse just sat down at the edge and slid here. it's lucky i'm not killed!" "it sure is!" agreed slim. "you want to take a strange trail easy, boy. are you hurt--or your horse?" dick was about two hundred feet below them at the foot of the slope. he got up and limped over to his animal. "guess he's all right," was the reply. "how about you?" asked bud, for dick had followed the real westerner's habit of looking first to his steed. "oh, i'm scratched up a bit, and lame," was the rueful reply, "but i guess nothing is busted unless it's one of my girths." the others watched him, while he straightened his saddle, which had slipped around under the horse. then dick called up: "it's all right. i can ride him, i reckon," which he proved by vaulting into the saddle. "how am i going to get back up there, though?" he asked. "it's as slippery as an iceberg." "you can't get up," snake called down. "don't try it. the trail up here goes along the same direction as the one down there. keep on it until we join you." which dick did, his pony, fortunately, proving to have suffered no injuries in the unexpected slide down the hill. and thus, by a narrow margin, was an accident diverted. for had the slope down which dick plunged, because of taking the turn too suddenly, been of rock, both he and the horse might have been badly hurt, if not killed. "keep a lookout for that greaser," called dick up to his chums above him. "i don't believe you saw any," retorted slim. "there aren't any signs of him here." nor were there, though the cowboys made careful scrutiny. and afterward dick admitted that he might have mistaken the fluttering of a bush for the hat of someone he thought a member of del pinzo's gang. in a short time the upper path merged into the trail below, and dick rejoined his friends, exhibiting some scratches sustained in his perilous slide. together the posse rode on, making a trail back to the main defile, and out of the one down which the greaser and his gang had turned, where they had been discovered by dick. and then bud's prediction came true. the sun, which never shone directly into the main canyon for any great length of time, began to set, bringing gloom into the defile long before it would make its appearance on the level country up above. seeing the gathering darkness, slim advised calling a halt, and this was done several miles beyond the place where the last trace of the stolen cattle had been observed. "shall we camp here!" asked bud, deferring to the foreman, as was natural under the circumstances. "we've got grass and water," slim remarked, indicating a spring toward which, even then, some of the horses were hastening. "water for the ponies and us, grass for the animals, and there ought to be some grub left." "there is," said snake purdee, who had assumed, or been given (it did not much matter which) the office of commissary. "we brought along plenty." "and we may need it before we reach the end of the trail," remarked bud. "i don't believe it's going to be easy to find where those cattle disappeared to." "there's only two ways, or at th' most three, in which they could be kept away from us," said slim, as he slid from his saddle. "what are they?" asked dick, who, like his brother, was always eager to learn from a true son of the west, such as was the foreman of diamond x. "well," slim resumed, "they've either been driven down some side passage, or gorge, such like as we found del pinzo in, or they were back-tracked to th' open an' driven off there th' same night they was run off." "that might be," admitted bud. "i didn't think of a back track." "well, i did," slim said, "but the signs of it was so faint i passed it up." a back trail, i might explain, is where an animal, or several of them, or even a human, for that matter, turns and retraces the way first traveled. a fox, fleeing before the hounds, will often do this, and as the scent does not indicate the direction in which reynard is running, the dogs are often deceived. but in the case of the fox the imprints of the animal's paws are so light that perhaps only with a microscope could it be told when he had "back-tracked." except, of course, in some place where soft mud might retain the impression of both trails. in the case of a large body of cattle, also, though the scent would not be relied upon, it would be difficult for the casual, or, in some cases, even the trained observer, to say where the herd had been turned and driven back over the same course originally taken. thus pursuers would be baffled. and when to this is added the fact that the floor of the gorge was of rock, in the main, which did not take, or retain, any impressions, the puzzle was all the more difficult to solve. "well, we'll see what happens in the morning," observed bud, as preparations for the camp went on. the usual watches were set that night, two of the posse being constantly on guard. it was rather nervous work for the boy ranchers, especially nort and dick, as they started at every chance sound which seemed to echo so loudly in the darkness. and once dick, who was taking the tour of duty with yellin' kid, suddenly fired at an object he saw moving. it was only a luckless coyote, as was evidenced by the howl of pain that followed the report of dick's gun, and then the night was made hideous and sleepless, for the time, by the chorus of weird howls from the other slinking beasts who were hanging about, hoping for something to eat. however, it was nearly morning when dick did his shooting, and a little later they all turned out for an early breakfast, the odor of the coffee and sizzling bacon producing an aroma finer than that of the most costly french perfume. "and now for the day's work!" exclaimed bud, when they were once more ready to set off on the trail. "and may we find something!" was the fervent petition of dick. off they started, refreshed by the night's halt and eager for what lay before them. i shall not weary you by a recital of all the minor incidents of the day, how they found many false trails and leads, several of which at first seemed promising, but all of which led to nothing. it was bud who made the real discovery which, eventually, led to the solving of the mystery. bud had alighted from his pony, when the halt was made for the noonday lunch, and was climbing up the side of the rocky hill which extended for miles and formed one wall of the gorge. "looking for gold?" asked dick, as he saw his cousin pick up and examine several rocks. "sure!" was the laughing answer. "might find the bones of another triceratops, too!" bud reached forward to pick up something else, and a rock slipped from beneath his foot. he had been resting heavily on it, and the sudden lurch threw him backward. to save himself he clutched at the nearest object, which happened to be a bush growing in the side of the hill. for a moment it seemed that this would save the lad from at least sliding down the declivity, but the bush was not deeply rooted and, in another moment pulled out in the ranch boy's hands. he flung up his arms, and almost toppled over backward, but managed to throw himself forward, and then he slid down several feet. "hurt!" called up dick, ready to hasten to his cousin's aid. "no, but my shoes are full of gravel. next time i come up a place like this i----" bud suddenly ceased speaking, and began to scramble up the side of the shale-covered hill almost as fast as he had slid down. then, as he reached the place whence the bush had pulled out he seemed to be looking into some crevice or opening. a moment later he turned, looked down on the party gathered in the defile below him, and shouted: "i've found 'em! i've found 'em! here they are, in one of the queerest places you can imagine! come up here and look!" chapter xxiii the fight scrambling up the side of the gorge, slipping and sliding back, almost like the frog in the well, dick, nort and the cowboys reached bud's side. he maintained his footing only by constantly working his way upward, for the shale, at this point, was almost like fine sand, and kept slipping down, taking the boy rancher with it. but there were bushes growing here and there, and by holding to these, taking care not to pull them out by the roots, bud managed to stay about where he had been when he made the amazing discovery. for it was an amazing discovery, as all the others admitted when they reached his side, and looked through the fissure which had been disclosed when bud pulled out the big bush by which he tried to save himself a fall. "what is it?' cried nort. "and where are they?" demanded dick. "it's our cattle! they're inside there--a place like a football stadium only there aren't any seats," explained bud, breathlessly. by this time he was surrounded by the others, all maintaining a precarious foothold in the shifting shale. and what they saw caused them all to join with bud in wondering amazement. for there, in what was a great natural bowl of the earth, with partly sloping green sides, and with a floor covered by grass, with a pool of sparkling water in the centre, were the missing cattle! the whole of the big herd that had been driven away from happy valley was there, it seemed. there they were, in that vast, natural amphitheatre with food and water at hand, and, apparently, as content as when they grazed on the range of the boy ranchers. "by all the rattlers that ever rattled!" cried snake. "we sure have found 'em!" "and they're all right, too!" added yellin' kid, as he gazed through the crack which had been opened when bud pulled out the bush. for it was only through the crack that they were able to view the steers contentedly feeding and drinking within that vast bowl. that is what it was--bowl much more immense in size than the one where yale battles with princeton and harvard. more immense than the palmer stadium at old nassau. the walls towered higher, and it was greater in diameter. it was almost a perfect bowl in shape--that is as perfect as so natural a formation could be. "but how did the cattle ever get in there!" exclaimed nort. "and how are we going to get them out?" asked dick. for it seemed, at first sight, that there was no entrance or egress. and certainly nothing could get in over the top, or out that way. for though the sides of the great, natural bowl were green up to a certain distance, beyond that, and between the rim and a point half way down, they were almost perpendicular in straightness. and, being of rock, they would, it seemed, afford scarcely a foot or hand-hold for the most expert "human fly." "there must be a way in," declared slim. "and out, too," added yellin' kid. "those rustlers never would have driven th' steers in here unless there was some way of getting 'em out." "but what is this place, anyhow!" asked nort. "it looks like the yale bowl, but it never could have been built by man." "it wasn't," said bud. "it's the crater of an extinct volcano. it has been filled up, with land-slides, probably, and the winds and the birds have brought grass seeds here, year after year, until it makes a regular corral for cattle. there's water, too, which isn't surprising. that's what it is, an old volcano crater. i heard there was one around here, but i never had time to look for it." "yes, i've heard of it myself," admitted slim, "but i didn't think it was like this. let's have another look." dick and nort moved aside to give the foreman a place of advantage, and when he had looked through a spot where the crack was wider he said: "i see where they can get th' cattle out. here, take a look, bud," and slim handed the ranch lad a pair of field glasses that had been brought along in case of emergency. they were of value now. "down at th' far end, and a little to the left of centre," slim directed bud's gaze. "there's a sort of fence of trees piled up. that's th' entrance all right--or one of 'em." "you're right!" agreed bud when he had taken a careful observation. "but is there more than one!" "must be," said slim. "the rustlers never drove th' cattle in away around _there_. they sent 'em in from _this_ end. th' trail ends right here, an' it's here where th' rustlers drove th' cattle in." "but where?" asked bud. "there isn't a sign of an opening!" "because they closed it after them," went on the foreman. "i begin to see it now. there must have been a break in the wall of the old crater right about here. they drove th' cattle in an' it was an easy matter t' let some of th' dirt slide down an' fill it up again. let's take a look with a view t' seein' if i'm right." it is easier to find a clue when you know just what you are looking for. and it did not take long for the experienced eyes of the cow punchers to discover where earth and shale from above had been recently dislodged and allowed to slide down to cover what must have been the same sort of natural opening into the side of the wall as that at the far end, closed by a fence of trees. this was to keep the cattle in without men being needed to ride herd. "yes, it does look as if they'd taken 'em in here," said bud, when it was found that the trail of the steers led to the foot of the crater wall, where all signs stopped. "if we had looked up a little, instead of sticking so close to the ground, we might have seen this clue before." "all in good time," observed slim. "the question is, now, how can we get in there?" "it will be easy enough," suggested nort. "all you'll have to do will be to enlarge the crack we looked through." "that's all right for us getting inside that crater," observed dick, "but what about our horses? they can't scramble up there." "then what can we do?" asked bud. "ride around to the other entrance?" "that would take too long," answered the foreman. "i fancy that del pinzo and his gang are on their way to this natural corral now, t' drive out th' cattle they stole from us. we've got t' get ahead of 'em!" "but how?" bud wanted to know. "i think we can dig out enough of th' shale an' dirt they slid int' th' opening, so that we can get th' horses through," slim answered. "we ought t' have shovels, but we can use sticks t' dig with. it will take longer, but it's the best we can do." little time was lost in putting this plan into operation. with a hatchet, which formed part of their camp equipment, some strong poles were cut from one of the few trees that grew on the slope of the gorge, and with these digging operations began. it was slow work, but many hands were engaged and soon an opening was made so that entrance could be had to the original crack in the rocky side of the bowl. for it was by this crack that the cattle had been driven in. and the crack had only been partly filled with broken rock and earth to conceal it from view. "yes, they did come in this way!" cried bud as he and the others urged their horses through the opening and into the bowl proper--the crater of the extinct volcano. "look, plenty of signs!" there was no doubt of it. the rustlers had driven the cattle into the defile, hazed them along until they reached the opening into this great natural hiding place, and then the rest was easy. the animals had been run into this solitary place, passing through the narrow, fissure-like opening in the rocky wall, a crack similar to, but larger, than the opening through which bud had made his discovery. then shale and dirt had been started, in a miniature avalanche, down the side of the slope, effectually hiding the means by which the cattle were secreted away. "no wonder we thought an airship had been used," commented dick. before them lay the vast crater of the old volcano, inactive for centuries. nature had covered the hard lava with a layer of soil in which grew rich grass. and nature had further made the place an ideal corral for cattle by supplying a large spring of water. it was a "rustler's paradise," to quote slim degnan. as the boy ranchers rode into the amphitheatre, the cattle at the far end, and in the middle, stopped grazing to look at them. "we're friends of yours!" called bud, waving his hat in the joy at finding his lost stock. "yes, but here come some fellows who aren't!" shouted yellin' kid. "where?" asked bud, quickly. "there!" kid pointed to the far end of the crater, if one may use the word "end" in referring to a circular bowl. the cowboy posse saw, riding at top speed into the great depression, a crowd of men, who, as they came nearer, could be recognized as the del pinzo gang. the greaser leader was not in evidence, however. "they're after the cattle!" cried nort. "well, they won't get 'em without a fight!" shouted bud. he drew his weapon, an example followed by the others, and as the two parties, one representing law and order and the other the wild, reckless element, started toward each other, the fight began. chapter xxiv a desperate chance "come on, fellows; come on!" yelled bud, as he clapped his heels against the sides of his pony and rushed toward the rustlers. "give 'em all they got coming!" "we're with you!" cried nort. "a fight to the finish!" shouted dick. the boy ranchers had their weapons out, as, indeed, had every one of the following cowboys. nor was del pinzo's gang a whit behind in this, though their lawless leader did not seem to be present. the sun gleamed on the flashing ornaments of silver worn by some of the mexican greasers as they rode to the fray. "don't ride too far, bud!" called slim, for the boys were inclined to be reckless. "we've got to ride 'em down or they'll have all the cattle out of that far opening before we get there!" bud answered. and, as he replied he fired one shot in the air, over the heads of the enemy. for bud bore in mind his father's injunction, not to shoot to wound unless it was absolutely necessary. and bud thought perhaps a strong show of force would awe the rustlers, causing them to retreat. however, they were in too strong force for this. and as the boy ranchers and their friends rode on into the vast, natural, volcanic bowl, and were able to take note of their foes, they saw that the rustlers outnumbered them two to one. bud's shot--the first of the fight--was the signal for general firing, though, as usual in such engagements, the initial fusilade was wild on both sides; mercifully so, it seemed ordered, for no one was hurt by the opening volley. "there's going to be a hot time!" shouted yellin' kid, as he spurred forward. "and i don't see th' skunk that spoiled my hat! where is he?" "del pinzo would rather his men'd get th' lickin's!" answered snake. "he's hidin' out, i reckon." "i'd like to find his hole!" said yellin' kid. the clashing forces were nearer each other now, with the bunch of happy valley steers in between, but off to one side. in order that you may better understand what follows, and the positions of the contending parties, i will explain the situation briefly. the boy ranchers and their friends had ridden in on what i might call the north end of the volcanic crater, in which bowl the rustlers had hidden the cattle. the opening by which the cattle had been placed in the bowl had been closed by a slide of dirt and shale but this had been partly cleared away by our friends so they could ride through the crack. at what may be termed the south end of the crater was a larger opening, wide enough, in fact, for several horsemen to ride abreast or a large herd of cattle to be driven through. this opening had been roughly fenced off to keep in the cattle. and it was through this opening that the rustlers had ridden, advancing to meet the force of the boy ranchers coming from the north. the cattle had been feeding in the centre of the bowl, but as the two parties began the fight, the steers drew off to the west. it was evidently the intention of the rustlers to take out the cattle if possible. whether they could succeed in driving them away in spite of the pursuit of the rightful owners, or whether they hoped to hide them in some other secret place did not develop. at any rate, here were the two contending parties racing toward each other, and firing as they galloped forward. and when they were all out in the open it was evident that the rustlers far outnumbered the boy ranchers and their friends. one thing, however, was in favor of bud and the others with him. they had advanced farther into the bowl than had the rustlers, and were past the centre when the actual fray began. using the illustration of a football game, to which i am tempted because of the location of the fray, i might remark that the ball was now over the centre line and well into the enemy's territory. it was up to bud and his followers to rush it over for a touchdown. but the rustlers were not going to give up without a sharp fight. they had come to take away the cattle, and this they now endeavored to do. several greasers separated from the main body and began to circle around with the evident intention of cutting out a bunch of steers, to drive them to the larger opening, where the fence had been torn down. "we've got to stop that!" shouted slim. "here, snake, you and kid ride over and see what you can do!" the two cowboys, shouting at the tops of their voices, wheeled to one side and started toward half a dozen greasers. the odds were not so great as they seemed, for right and justice were on the side of the cowboys. suddenly dick, who was riding between bud and nort, gave a little cry, and his weapon dropped from his right hand, on which a spot of blood appeared. "hit?" asked nort. "only a scratch," dick answered. he halted his pony, snatched his neckerchief off and, with the help of his brother, bound up the wound. it was decidedly more than a scratch, being a deep cut where a glancing bullet had hit, and dick's hand would be out of commission for some time. "but i can fire with my left," he added, a feat to which he was equal, "and star guides by knee pressure." he was riding a pony he had taught to obey directions by means of pressure of the cowboy's knees on either side. and dick had been practicing left hand shooting for some time. his gun restored to him, he rode on with his brother and cousin. with sudden yells, accompanied by as sudden a rush, a band of the greasers now rode straight for bud, dick, nort and some of the diamond x outfit with our heroes. so fierce was the attack, and in such numbers, that there was nothing for our friends to do but retreat, for the time being at least. this attack took place in a part of the bowl where there were a large number of immense boulders scattered. seeing that these formed a natural protection, or breastwork, bud called to his cousins and the men to get behind the stones. "make the horses lie down!" was his advice. "we'll fight indian fashion!" and, at this point, at least, this became the style of the battle. the greasers rode fast, endeavoring to cut off bud and his party, but the latter reached the haven of rocks first, and with the horses on their sides, positions the steeds were glad enough to assume, doubtless, the advantage was on the side of the boy ranchers. they were protected by rocks, from behind which they could fire, while the enemy was in the open. but the enemy far outnumbered our friends, and the latter, for the time being, were in the position of persons besieged. for, no sooner had the greasers seen what was the object of bud and his followers, than the lawless ones took such small shelter as they could find, some behind their prostrate horses, and began firing at the boy ranchers' party. and as the renegade mexicans were, in a number of cases, armed with rifles, the odds against bud and his chums were increased. true, the greasers were not good marksmen, but a rifle in the hands of even a poor shooter is often more than a match for a . revolver in the hands of an expert. "pick 'em off!" cried bud, as bullets zinged their way in among the rocks behind which he and his friends were hidden. "pick 'em off, but don't expose yourself!" this was good advice if it could have been followed, but to fire effectively it was necessary for those of the diamond x outfit to take aim over, or to one side, of the rocks, and when this was done, some part of the body was exposed. at such times the watching greasers fired. it was now an actual state of siege as far as bud and his immediate companions were concerned, and they were outnumbered. several of bud's party, including nort this time, had been slightly wounded. but, in turn, they had wounded some greasers, too, one vitally, as was learned later. meanwhile, snake and kid were having their own troubles with the party of greasers they had been sent off to intercept and prevent from driving off the cattle. more mexicans had joined their comrades, and kid and snake were obliged to beat a retreat, joining slim and his forces, who were fighting the main, and larger body of rustlers. and it was while these two separate fights were going on, and while the greasers that had forced kid and snake to retire were gathering together a bunch of cattle to drive out of the main opening, that dick, who was readjusting the bandage on his hand, saw something that made his heart sink. this was a sight of another body of greasers riding into the bowl from the south end--a body of mexican horsemen led by del pinzo himself. "i guess it's all up with us now," said dick to his brother, calling the latter's attention to the reinforcements of the enemy. "that's what that half-breed was hanging back for. he wanted to get us well mixed up, and now he'll drive off the cattle." "whew!" whistled nort. "it does look that way. what we going to do, dick?" the two brothers were behind a great boulder, off to one side. bud and some of the cowboys were replying to a brisk fire on the part of the besieging greasers. for a moment, after having tied the bandage on his hand, dick did not answer. then, as if an inspiration came to him, he said: "it's only a chance, nort, and a desperate chance at that. but maybe we can do it! did you ever read kipling's 'drums of the fore and aft'?" "sure! but what's that got to do with this?" "a lot. you and i are going to be the 'drums' and these are going to play the tune," and he tapped his . . "come on," he added, motioning to his brother. "as i said, it's a desperate chance, but it may do the trick!" chapter xxv lieutenant wayne not to mystify you, when there is no need for it, i will say that the scheme dick had hit upon was simple enough. if you recall kipling's famous story you know that two drummer boys, of a british regiment in india, when the main body was being defeated by a horde of natives, slipped quietly off to one side, and, by hiding behind rocks, played the fife and beat the drum to such advantage that the heathens thought another regiment was approaching to take them in the rear, while the british force was so heartened by hearing the familiar strains that they rallied, the retreat was stopped and the day won. dick and nort had no fife or drum, and, if they had possessed those instruments, it is doubtful if they could have performed on them with any credit to themselves. each of them was slightly wounded, but they possessed their guns and had a plentiful supply of ammunition, and it was dick's idea to use this. "we'll slide out, crawl along that gully there," and he pointed to nort the one he meant, "and we'll take 'em on the flank. by keeping behind the rocks, and firing fast, we can make 'em think, maybe, that another force is coming." "you well said it--_maybe_," murmured nort. "but at that, the idea isn't so bad. they may hold us here all day, and with slim and his bunch having their hands full, it looks as if the cattle would be driven off." for while some of the rustlers were holding bud and his band in check behind the rocks, and while others were fighting slim and his cowboys, still others were driving the cattle toward the opening in the old volcano bowl. it was dick's idea that if by a cross fire on the part of himself and his brother, hidden among the rocks, they could scare away the band besieging bud and his friends, a diversion might be created which would rout the enemy. at any rate, it was worth trying. bud was busy, as nort and dick slipped off, tying a bandage on the arm of one of the cowboys who had been shot. and the brothers were glad to try their desperate venture unnoticed, for they did not want to explain. and they did not want to be observed going away, as it looked a little like desertion in the face of the enemy. but, for the time being, there was a lull in the fighting. the greasers who had been holding bud's force behind the rocks, had quieted down. the fighting between slim and his cowboys out in the open, however, was going on fiercely, and several had fallen on both sides. once dick and nort were down in a gully, off to the right of the rocks behind which the band had taken shelter, the eastern lads were screened from observation, both by their friends and by the greasers. "cut along, north!" advised dick, and, in spite of their wounds, the boy ranchers ran in crouching positions, their guns in readiness. it did not take them long to reach a point which they regarded as favorable for the trick they were going to play--for it was nothing more nor less than a trick. if they could succeed, by quick firing, in deceiving the enemy, and causing a retreat, a sudden rush on the part of bud and his friends might turn the scale. "all ready?" asked dick of his brother, as they reached some sheltering rocks on the flank of the party besieging bud. "wait until i lay a lot of cartridges ready on the ground. it will be easier to reload them." "good idea. i'll do the same." it was rather awkward for dick, with his wounded right hand, to reload his gun, but he could manage after a fashion, though not so well as nort, whose hurt was in his upper left arm. the lads saw to it that their weapons were ready, with a goodly supply of cartridges in front of them. nort looked across at dick, behind the sheltering rock, and at a nod from the latter they both began firing. the effect on the greasers, poorly screened as they were, was instantaneous. several leaped to their feet and turned in surprise toward the sound of firing on their flank. these made good targets, and by firing at them dick and nort brought more than one to the ground. bud and his companions, hearing the firing in a new direction, where, as yet they did not know they had supporters, were also taken by surprise, but it was of another nature. "come on! rush 'em!" yelled bud, when he had looked around, and, missing dick and nort, guessed what had happened. "we've got 'em in a cross fire now! rush 'em!" but the greasers, disheartened by the firing of dick and nort on their flank, did not stop to be rushed. those who were able leaped up and ran toward their horses, which had strayed off to one side. bud and his party emerged from behind the rocks, firing as they rushed the enemy. "this is the stuff, dick!" shouted nort, as he reloaded his gun and sent another fusilade of bullets into the ranks of the now retreating greasers. "i'm glad it worked!" remarked the proposer of the kipling scheme. "now we can go help slim and his bunch. they're having trouble!" indeed the tide of battle did seem to be turning against the foreman and his forces. they were outnumbered, and had lost several cowboys, by wounds if not by death--just which it was impossible to determine then. and, meanwhile, the other greasers, under the leadership of the wily del pinzo, were hazing the cattle toward the main entrance. "good work, boys! great work!" bud greeted his cousins with as he rode out to meet them, when the besieging greasers had been routed by the cross fire of the two lads. "how'd you think of it?" "it was dick," spoke nort. "it was kipling!" dick answered. "get mounted and join us!" bud requested. "we've got to help slim!" this was evident, as the foreman and his cowboys were now hard pressed. but as nort and dick rejoined bud, having leaped to their saddles they, as well as the others from diamond x caught sight of something which, for the moment made them sick at heart. for the sight was that of another body of horsemen riding into the old volcano bowl. on they cantered, the sun glinting on their arms. "more of del pinzo's rustlers!" burst out bud. "we may as well give up! they're too many for us!" but he did not pull rein, intending it seemed, to fight it out to the bitter end. a cry from dick was the cause of wonderment. he pointed to the new body of advancing horsemen. "look! look!" dick shouted. "those aren't greasers! they aren't rustlers or del pinzo's gang! they're united states troopers! by all the jack rabbits that ever jumped we've got the rustlers now! the united states cavalry is on the job!" and a moment later, as the notes of a bugle gave a musical order, causing the advancing troop to deploy to right and left, it was evident that the tide of battle had turned in favor of the boy ranchers and their friends. for the newcomers were, in reality, a troop of united states regulars, and with a dash and vim, exceeded nowhere in the world, and among no other fighters, this band of grim-faced men entered into action. carbines were unslung and their short and ugly bark was added to the din. "come on, fellows!" "now we've got 'em!" "over the line!" "touchdown!" these were only a few of the excited shouts of the boy ranchers themselves, while the cowboys of diamond x riding into the fray with new hearts, sent up their shrill, yipping yells. it was all over then but the shouting, so to speak. the greasers were fairly trapped--del pinzo and all his gang. in vain they attempted to ride around and escape by the main entrance. but the troopers had stationed a guard there, and the bowl was "bottled up." one or two greasers, sneaking around to the north, did manage to escape through the crack by which bud and his friends had entered, though the main body was captured and the cattle saved. "whew, but that was hot work!" commented bud, toward sundown, when the rustlers had been caught, disarmed and corraled under guard. "you told the truth for once," remarked dick, whose wound had been rebandaged by the surgeon accompanying the troopers. "and i guess this is the end of del pinzo," remarked nort, for the outlaw greaser half-breed had been caught red-handed, so to speak. "i hope so," mused bud. "but we paid a price for it." "and so did they," observed slim. "we accounted for quite a few, but i'm sorry for our boys." several of the diamond x outfit had been grievously wounded, and one was killed outright. but the casualties on the side of the enemy were greater. the fight was over. the cattle of the boy ranchers were saved, and the rustlers captured. tired horses were staked out near grass and water, and while the cavalry established their camp, bud and his friends began to wonder how it was the troopers had arrived in the nick of time. "well, it was more by chance than anything else," said captain parker, who was in command. "we'd been on the trail of these outlaws for some time, and finally we saw a chance to corner them. it was due to the work of lieutenant wayne that we were able so to effectually bag them here, though. he has been on scout duty in this section for some time, endeavoring to get information so that we might round up this gang." "lieutenant wayne," repeated bud, wonderingly. "yes, here he comes now. he says he knows you boys." "knows us!" murmured dick, as a trooper approached, saluting his superior and smiling at the boy ranchers. "yes, don't you know me?" asked lieutenant wayne, holding out his hand to bud. "perhaps if i had on my glasses, you would be better able to----" "four eyes!" burst out nort. "at least--i beg your pardon--henry--er--mr. mellon--lieutenant wayne!" he stammered. "yes, four eyes!" was the laughing answer of the trooper. "those glasses were only fakes! i wore them as a sort of disguise, and very effectual they were, it seems." "four eyes!" gasped bud. "and were you in the united states cavalry all the while?" "yes, on scout, or detached duty," was the answer. "the government has had many complaints of this band of del pinzo's rustlers, and we were detailed to put them out of business. i was assigned to go on duty as a cowboy, which wasn't so hard, as i had been one nearly all my life before joining the army. i worked on several ranches, picking up bits of information here and there, and i completed all i needed to get in happy valley," he added. "and we never tumbled!" remarked dick. "glad you didn't!" laughed lieutenant wayne, to give him his proper title. "i thought you were suspicious of me, more than once, though," he said. "we were, after you built that signal lantern on the watch tower--you did do that, didn't you?" asked bud. "yes, but only as a decoy for the rustlers. i managed to overhear some of their plans, and part of their scheme called for a light on the tower when the time was ripe for a raid on your cattle, boys. so i flashed the signal myself, and, indirectly, it led to this capture today. for i joined my troop right after that, and we have been rounding the rascals up ever since. "we knew they had made a big raid at your place, but we didn't know where they had hidden the cattle until i happened to think of this old crater, which i discovered one day when i was working for you, bud. so we made our way here and--well, this is the end, i believe," he added, as he looked over at the bunch of miserable prisoners. "i hope it's the end," said bud. "we want to get back to business. and i'm sorry we suspected you, lieutenant." "oh, that's all right. in fact, i'm glad you did. it shows i lived up to the character i was supposed to represent." there is little more to tell. that night, around the campfire many things, hitherto a mystery, were explained. the stethoscope the boys found was the property of lieutenant wayne. he had dropped it when paying a secret visit to happy valley. he had intended to pose as a doctor to deceive the rustlers, but, on losing the stethoscope he gave up that plan. it is needless to say that he had nothing to do with the robbery at diamond x, the real thieves never being discovered. lieutenant wayne apologized for cutting his way from bud's tent the night he disappeared after the signal from the tower. this was the only way he could disappear and accomplish his plans, he said. and it was he who had fired and broken the bottle, and had also fired mysterious signal shots, in order to play up to his character of being in with the rustlers. "though the bottle-breaking was only a joke i indulged in," he admitted, "i'm sorry it worried you so." the soldier, of course, had nothing to do with the prairie fire, and who set it, if it was set, was not discovered. lieutenant wayne finally recovered his black horse cinder, the animal having made its way back to curly q ranch, where the officer once posed as a cowboy. the cattle first stolen by the rustlers were not recovered, but it was found that when they seemed they had been spirited off in an airship they had been merely back-tracked and hidden until an opportune time to dispose of them. del pinzo's gang was in hiding, waiting for a chance to drive off the main body of steers, when they were surprised by our heroes. whether hank fisher was in with the rustlers was not decided, though suspicions pointed toward him. the outlaws were sentenced to long terms after being captured by the troopers, and their secret meeting place, having been discovered, was destroyed. after these explanations had been made, it was decided not to try to drive the cattle out of the crater until the next day. the night passed without incident, though none of the boy ranchers turned in early. they were too excited, and they wanted to talk over what had happened. the existence of the old crater was not generally known, but del pinzo and his rustlers appeared to have the secret of it. they had driven off bud's cattle, put them into the natural corral and then filled in, with dirt, the only entrance visible from the defile trail leading from happy valley. they intended to use the larger opening out of the bowl, to the south, to get the cattle away. but their plans were frustrated. the next day the troopers drove off before them the discomfitted del pinzo and his disheartened followers, yellin' kid taking the mexican's elaborate hat to replace the cowboy's with the bullet holes. lieutenant wayne said farewell to the boy ranchers, promising to come and see them again, in his real character. the wounded were transported as tenderly as possible out of the main egress from the bowl, it being impractical to use the other. and it was from this larger entrance, after the fence had been torn away, that the cattle were driven, by a long winding trail amid the mountains back to happy valley. only a few were lost by the raid, which was the largest ever perpetrated by the rustlers in that part of the country. "but i guess, now that the troopers have del pinzo, and not the local authorities with their flimsy town jails, that this greaser won't be foot-loose for some time," observed bud, when, once more, the boy ranchers were back in camp. "i don't want to hear his name again," murmured dick, nursing his wounded hand. "and to think that four eyes was working in our interests when we thought him a spy! that was pretty good!" laughed nort. "yes, it all worked out pretty well," spoke bud. "and do you know what i'd like to do? i'd like dad to buy that old volcano crater for us. it would be a peach of a place where we could winter a herd of cattle, and have 'em fat for spring selling. i'm going to speak to him about it," he concluded. "well, you can speak right now, for here he comes, and your mother and sister, too," added dick, as mr. merkel's auto chugged down the trail from diamond x. "well, boys, i hear you beat del pinzo at his own game!" greeted the rancher, while nell expressed her sorrow at dick's wound, to the somewhat jealous regard of nort, whose hurt was more slight. "yes, he's where he won't blur any more brands right away," bud answered. "but it looked like touch and go for a while. the troopers came just in time!" "well, you fellows seem to know how to take care of yourselves and the cattle," observed bud's father. "guess i'll turn one of my main ranches over to you. what say?" but the boys did not answer. they were busy eating slices of a large chocolate cake that nell had brought over. this is reason enough, isn't it? however, the adventures of our heroes did not end with the capture of the rustlers. and those of you who wish to follow them further may do so in the next volume of this series which will be entitled: "the boy ranchers among the indians; or trailing the yaquis." in that volume we shall meet many of our old friends again, and, should bud permit it, i may tell you about zip foster. but with the capture of del pinzo, and his rustlers, this book is finished. the end [illustration: dorothy and the wizard] [illustration: picking the princess.] dorothy and the wizard in oz by l. frank baum author of the wizard of oz, the land of oz, ozma of oz, etc. illustrated by john r. neill books of wonder william morrow & co., inc. new york [illustration] copyright by l. frank baum all rights reserved * * * * * [illustration] dedicated to harriet a. b. neal. * * * * * to my readers it's no use; no use at all. the children won't let me stop telling tales of the land of oz. i know lots of other stories, and i hope to tell them, some time or another; but just now my loving tyrants won't allow me. they cry: "oz--oz! more about oz, mr. baum!" and what can i do but obey their commands? this is our book--mine and the children's. for they have flooded me with thousands of suggestions in regard to it, and i have honestly tried to adopt as many of these suggestions as could be fitted into one story. after the wonderful success of "ozma of oz" it is evident that dorothy has become a firm fixture in these oz stories. the little ones all love dorothy, and as one of my small friends aptly states: "it isn't a real oz story without her." so here she is again, as sweet and gentle and innocent as ever, i hope, and the heroine of another strange adventure. there were many requests from my little correspondents for "more about the wizard." it seems the jolly old fellow made hosts of friends in the first oz book, in spite of the fact that he frankly acknowledged himself "a humbug." the children had heard how he mounted into the sky in a balloon and they were all waiting for him to come down again. so what could i do but tell "what happened to the wizard afterward"? you will find him in these pages, just the same humbug wizard as before. there was one thing the children demanded which i found it impossible to do in this present book: they bade me introduce toto, dorothy's little black dog, who has many friends among my readers. but you will see, when you begin to read the story, that toto was in kansas while dorothy was in california, and so she had to start on her adventure without him. in this book dorothy had to take her kitten with her instead of her dog; but in the next oz book, if i am permitted to write one, i intend to tell a good deal about toto's further history. princess ozma, whom i love as much as my readers do, is again introduced in this story, and so are several of our old friends of oz. you will also become acquainted with jim the cab-horse, the nine tiny piglets, and eureka, the kitten. i am sorry the kitten was not as well behaved as she ought to have been; but perhaps she wasn't brought up properly. dorothy found her, you see, and who her parents were nobody knows. i believe, my dears, that i am the proudest story-teller that ever lived. many a time tears of pride and joy have stood in my eyes while i read the tender, loving, appealing letters that come to me in almost every mail from my little readers. to have pleased you, to have interested you, to have won your friendship, and perhaps your love, through my stories, is to my mind as great an achievement as to become president of the united states. indeed, i would much rather be your story-teller, under these conditions, than to be the president. so you have helped me to fulfill my life's ambition, and i am more grateful to you, my dears, than i can express in words. i try to answer every letter of my young correspondents; yet sometimes there are so many letters that a little time must pass before you get your answer. but be patient, friends, for the answer will surely come, and by writing to me you more than repay me for the pleasant task of preparing these books. besides, i am proud to acknowledge that the books are partly yours, for your suggestions often guide me in telling the stories, and i am sure they would not be half so good without your clever and thoughtful assistance. l. frank baum coronado, . list of chapters chapter page the earthquake the glass city the arrival of the wizard the vegetable kingdom dorothy picks the princess the mangaboos prove dangerous into the black pit and out again the valley of voices they fight the invisible bears the braided man of pyramid mt they meet the wooden gargoyles a wonderful escape the den of the dragonettes ozma uses the magic belt old friends are reunited jim, the cab-horse the nine tiny piglets the trial of eureka, the kitten the wizard performs another trick zeb returns to the ranch [illustration] chapter . the earthquake the train from 'frisco was very late. it should have arrived at hugson's siding at midnight, but it was already five o'clock and the gray dawn was breaking in the east when the little train slowly rumbled up to the open shed that served for the station-house. as it came to a stop the conductor called out in a loud voice: "hugson's siding!" at once a little girl rose from her seat and walked to the door of the car, carrying a wicker suit-case in one hand and a round bird-cage covered up with newspapers in the other, while a parasol was tucked under her arm. the conductor helped her off the car and then the engineer started his train again, so that it puffed and groaned and moved slowly away up the track. the reason he was so late was because all through the night there were times when the solid earth shook and trembled under him, and the engineer was afraid that at any moment the rails might spread apart and an accident happen to his passengers. so he moved the cars slowly and with caution. the little girl stood still to watch until the train had disappeared around a curve; then she turned to see where she was. the shed at hugson's siding was bare save for an old wooden bench, and did not look very inviting. as she peered through the soft gray light not a house of any sort was visible near the station, nor was any person in sight; but after a while the child discovered a horse and buggy standing near a group of trees a short distance away. she walked toward it and found the horse tied to a tree and standing motionless, with its head hanging down almost to the ground. it was a big horse, tall and bony, with long legs and large knees and feet. she could count his ribs easily where they showed through the skin of his body, and his head was long and seemed altogether too big for him, as if it did not fit. his tail was short and scraggly, and his harness had been broken in many places and fastened together again with cords and bits of wire. the buggy seemed almost new, for it had a shiny top and side curtains. getting around in front, so that she could look inside, the girl saw a boy curled up on the seat, fast asleep. she set down the bird-cage and poked the boy with her parasol. presently he woke up, rose to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes briskly. "hello!" he said, seeing her, "are you dorothy gale?" "yes," she answered, looking gravely at his tousled hair and blinking gray eyes. "have you come to take me to hugson's ranch?" "of course," he answered. "train in?" "i couldn't be here if it wasn't," she said. he laughed at that, and his laugh was merry and frank. jumping out of the buggy he put dorothy's suit-case under the seat and her bird-cage on the floor in front. "canary-birds?" he asked. "oh, no; it's just eureka, my kitten. i thought that was the best way to carry her." the boy nodded. "eureka's a funny name for a cat," he remarked. "i named my kitten that because i found it," she explained. "uncle henry says 'eureka' means 'i have found it.'" "all right; hop in." she climbed into the buggy and he followed her. then the boy picked up the reins, shook them, and said "gid-dap!" the horse did not stir. dorothy thought he just wiggled one of his drooping ears, but that was all. "gid-dap!" called the boy, again. the horse stood still. "perhaps," said dorothy, "if you untied him, he would go." the boy laughed cheerfully and jumped out. "guess i'm half asleep yet," he said, untying the horse. "but jim knows his business all right--don't you, jim?" patting the long nose of the animal. then he got into the buggy again and took the reins, and the horse at once backed away from the tree, turned slowly around, and began to trot down the sandy road which was just visible in the dim light. "thought that train would never come," observed the boy. "i've waited at that station for five hours." "we had a lot of earthquakes," said dorothy. "didn't you feel the ground shake?" "yes; but we're used to such things in california," he replied. "they don't scare us much." [illustration: dorothy poked the boy with her parasol.] "the conductor said it was the worst quake he ever knew." "did he? then it must have happened while i was asleep," he said, thoughtfully. "how is uncle henry?" she enquired, after a pause during which the horse continued to trot with long, regular strides. "he's pretty well. he and uncle hugson have been having a fine visit." "is mr. hugson your uncle?" she asked. "yes. uncle bill hugson married your uncle henry's wife's sister; so we must be second cousins," said the boy, in an amused tone. "i work for uncle bill on his ranch, and he pays me six dollars a month and my board." "isn't that a great deal?" she asked, doubtfully. "why, it's a great deal for uncle hugson, but not for me. i'm a splendid worker. i work as well as i sleep," he added, with a laugh. "what is your name?" asked dorothy, thinking she liked the boy's manner and the cheery tone of his voice. "not a very pretty one," he answered, as if a little ashamed. "my whole name is zebediah; but folks just call me 'zeb.' you've been to australia, haven't you?" "yes; with uncle henry," she answered. "we got to san francisco a week ago, and uncle henry went right on to hugson's ranch for a visit while i stayed a few days in the city with some friends we had met." "how long will you be with us?" he asked. "only a day. tomorrow uncle henry and i must start back for kansas. we've been away for a long time, you know, and so we're anxious to get home again." the boy flicked the big, boney horse with his whip and looked thoughtful. then he started to say something to his little companion, but before he could speak the buggy began to sway dangerously from side to side and the earth seemed to rise up before them. next minute there was a roar and a sharp crash, and at her side dorothy saw the ground open in a wide crack and then come together again. "goodness!" she cried, grasping the iron rail of the seat. "what was that?" "that was an awful big quake," replied zeb, with a white face. "it almost got us that time, dorothy." the horse had stopped short, and stood firm as a rock. zeb shook the reins and urged him to go, but jim was stubborn. then the boy cracked his whip and touched the animal's flanks with it, and after a low moan of protest jim stepped slowly along the road. neither the boy nor the girl spoke again for some minutes. there was a breath of danger in the very air, and every few moments the earth would shake violently. jim's ears were standing erect upon his head and every muscle of his big body was tense as he trotted toward home. he was not going very fast, but on his flanks specks of foam began to appear and at times he would tremble like a leaf. the sky had grown darker again and the wind made queer sobbing sounds as it swept over the valley. suddenly there was a rending, tearing sound, and the earth split into another great crack just beneath the spot where the horse was standing. with a wild neigh of terror the animal fell bodily into the pit, drawing the buggy and its occupants after him. dorothy grabbed fast hold of the buggy top and the boy did the same. the sudden rush into space confused them so that they could not think. blackness engulfed them on every side, and in breathless silence they waited for the fall to end and crush them against jagged rocks or for the earth to close in on them again and bury them forever in its dreadful depths. the horrible sensation of falling, the darkness and the terrifying noises, proved more than dorothy could endure and for a few moments the little girl lost consciousness. zeb, being a boy, did not faint, but he was badly frightened, and clung to the buggy seat with a tight grip, expecting every moment would be his last. [illustration] [illustration] chapter . the glass city when dorothy recovered her senses they were still falling, but not so fast. the top of the buggy caught the air like a parachute or an umbrella filled with wind, and held them back so that they floated downward with a gentle motion that was not so very disagreeable to bear. the worst thing was their terror of reaching the bottom of this great crack in the earth, and the natural fear that sudden death was about to overtake them at any moment. crash after crash echoed far above their heads, as the earth came together where it had split, and stones and chunks of clay rattled around them on every side. these they could not see, but they could feel them pelting the buggy top, and jim screamed almost like a human being when a stone overtook him and struck his boney body. they did not really hurt the poor horse, because everything was falling together; only the stones and rubbish fell faster than the horse and buggy, which were held back by the pressure of the air, so that the terrified animal was actually more frightened than he was injured. how long this state of things continued dorothy could not even guess, she was so greatly bewildered. but bye and bye, as she stared ahead into the black chasm with a beating heart, she began to dimly see the form of the horse jim--his head up in the air, his ears erect and his long legs sprawling in every direction as he tumbled through space. also, turning her head, she found that she could see the boy beside her, who had until now remained as still and silent as she herself. dorothy sighed and commenced to breathe easier. she began to realize that death was not in store for her, after all, but that she had merely started upon another adventure, which promised to be just as queer and unusual as were those she had before encountered. with this thought in mind the girl took heart and leaned her head over the side of the buggy to see where the strange light was coming from. far below her she found six great glowing balls suspended in the air. the central and largest one was white, and reminded her of the sun. around it were arranged, like the five points of a star, the other five brilliant balls; one being rose colored, one violet, one yellow, one blue and one orange. this splendid group of colored suns sent rays darting in every direction, and as the horse and buggy--with dorothy and zeb--sank steadily downward and came nearer to the lights, the rays began to take on all the delicate tintings of a rainbow, growing more and more distinct every moment until all the space was brilliantly illuminated. dorothy was too dazed to say much, but she watched one of jim's big ears turn to violet and the other to rose, and wondered that his tail should be yellow and his body striped with blue and orange like the stripes of a zebra. then she looked at zeb, whose face was blue and whose hair was pink, and gave a little laugh that sounded a bit nervous. "isn't it funny?" she said. the boy was startled and his eyes were big. dorothy had a green streak through the center of her face where the blue and yellow lights came together, and her appearance seemed to add to his fright. "i--i don't s-s-see any-thing funny--'bout it!" he stammered. [illustration: horse, buggy and all fell slowly.] just then the buggy tipped slowly over upon its side, the body of the horse tipping also. but they continued to fall, all together, and the boy and girl had no difficulty in remaining upon the seat, just as they were before. then they turned bottom side up, and continued to roll slowly over until they were right side up again. during this time jim struggled frantically, all his legs kicking the air; but on finding himself in his former position the horse said, in a relieved tone of voice: "well, that's better!" dorothy and zeb looked at one another in wonder. "can your horse talk?" she asked. "never knew him to, before," replied the boy. "those were the first words i ever said," called out the horse, who had overheard them, "and i can't explain why i happened to speak then. this is a nice scrape you've got me into, isn't it?" "as for that, we are in the same scrape ourselves," answered dorothy, cheerfully. "but never mind; something will happen pretty soon." "of course," growled the horse; "and then we shall be sorry it happened." zeb gave a shiver. all this was so terrible and unreal that he could not understand it at all, and so had good reason to be afraid. swiftly they drew near to the flaming colored suns, and passed close beside them. the light was then so bright that it dazzled their eyes, and they covered their faces with their hands to escape being blinded. there was no heat in the colored suns, however, and after they had passed below them the top of the buggy shut out many of the piercing rays so that the boy and girl could open their eyes again. "we've got to come to the bottom some time," remarked zeb, with a deep sigh. "we can't keep falling forever, you know." "of course not," said dorothy. "we are somewhere in the middle of the earth, and the chances are we'll reach the other side of it before long. but it's a big hollow, isn't it?" "awful big!" answered the boy. "we're coming to something now," announced the horse. at this they both put their heads over the side of the buggy and looked down. yes; there was land below them; and not so very far away, either. but they were floating very, very slowly--so slowly that it could no longer be called a fall--and the children had ample time to take heart and look about them. they saw a landscape with mountains and plains, lakes and rivers, very like those upon the earth's surface; but all the scene was splendidly colored by the variegated lights from the six suns. here and there were groups of houses that seemed made of clear glass, because they sparkled so brightly. "i'm sure we are in no danger," said dorothy, in a sober voice. "we are falling so slowly that we can't be dashed to pieces when we land, and this country that we are coming to seems quite pretty." "we'll never get home again, though!" declared zeb, with a groan. "oh, i'm not so sure of that," replied the girl. "but don't let us worry over such things, zeb; we can't help ourselves just now, you know, and i've always been told it's foolish to borrow trouble." the boy became silent, having no reply to so sensible a speech, and soon both were fully occupied in staring at the strange scenes spread out below them. they seemed to be falling right into the middle of a big city which had many tall buildings with glass domes and sharp-pointed spires. these spires were like great spear-points, and if they tumbled upon one of them they were likely to suffer serious injury. jim the horse had seen these spires, also, and his ears stood straight up with fear, while dorothy and zeb held their breaths in suspense. but no; they floated gently down upon a broad, flat roof, and came to a stop at last. when jim felt something firm under his feet the poor beast's legs trembled so much that he could hardly stand; but zeb at once leaped out of the buggy to the roof, and he was so awkward and hasty that he kicked over dorothy's birdcage, which rolled out upon the roof so that the bottom came off. at once a pink kitten crept out of the upset cage, sat down upon the glass roof, and yawned and blinked its round eyes. "oh," said dorothy. "there's eureka." "first time i ever saw a pink cat," said zeb. "eureka isn't pink; she's white. it's this queer light that gives her that color." "where's my milk?" asked the kitten, looking up into dorothy's face. "i'm 'most starved to death." "oh, eureka! can you talk?" "talk! am i talking? good gracious, i believe i am. isn't it funny?" asked the kitten. "it's all wrong," said zeb, gravely. "animals ought not to talk. but even old jim has been saying things since we had our accident." "i can't see that it's wrong," remarked jim, in his gruff tones. "at least, it isn't as wrong as some other things. what's going to become of us now?" "i don't know," answered the boy, looking around him curiously. the houses of the city were all made of glass, so clear and transparent that one could look through the walls as easily as though a window. dorothy saw, underneath the roof on which she stood, several rooms used for rest chambers, and even thought she could make out a number of queer forms huddled into the corners of these rooms. the roof beside them had a great hole smashed through it, and pieces of glass were lying scattered in every direction. a near by steeple had been broken off short and the fragments lay heaped beside it. other buildings were cracked in places or had corners chipped off from them; but they must have been very beautiful before these accidents had happened to mar their perfection. the rainbow tints from the colored suns fell upon the glass city softly and gave to the buildings many delicate, shifting hues which were very pretty to see. but not a sound had broken the stillness since the strangers had arrived, except that of their own voices. they began to wonder if there were no people to inhabit this magnificent city of the inner world. suddenly a man appeared through a hole in the roof next to the one they were on and stepped into plain view. he was not a very large man, but was well formed and had a beautiful face--calm and serene as the face of a fine portrait. his clothing fitted his form snugly and was gorgeously colored in brilliant shades of green, which varied as the sunbeams touched them but was not wholly influenced by the solar rays. the man had taken a step or two across the glass roof before he noticed the presence of the strangers; but then he stopped abruptly. there was no expression of either fear or surprise upon his tranquil face, yet he must have been both astonished and afraid; for after his eyes had rested upon the ungainly form of the horse for a moment he walked rapidly to the furthest edge of the roof, his head turned back over his shoulder to gaze at the strange animal. "look out!" cried dorothy, who noticed that the beautiful man did not look where he was going; "be careful, or you'll fall off!" but he paid no attention to her warning. he reached the edge of the tall roof, stepped one foot out into the air, and walked into space as calmly as if he were on firm ground. the girl, greatly astonished, ran to lean over the edge of the roof, and saw the man walking rapidly through the air toward the ground. soon he reached the street and disappeared through a glass doorway into one of the glass buildings. "how strange!" she exclaimed, drawing a long breath. "yes; but it's lots of fun, if it _is_ strange," remarked the small voice of the kitten, and dorothy turned to find her pet walking in the air a foot or so away from the edge of the roof. "come back, eureka!" she called, in distress, "you'll certainly be killed." "i have nine lives," said the kitten, purring softly as it walked around in a circle and then came back to the roof; "but i can't lose even one of them by falling in this country, because i really couldn't manage to fall if i wanted to." "does the air bear up your weight?" asked the girl. "of course; can't you see?" and again the kitten wandered into the air and back to the edge of the roof. "it's wonderful!" said dorothy. "suppose we let eureka go down to the street and get some one to help us," suggested zeb, who had been even more amazed than dorothy at these strange happenings. "perhaps we can walk on the air ourselves," replied the girl. zeb drew back with a shiver. "i wouldn't dare try," he said. "may be jim will go," continued dorothy, looking at the horse. "and may be he won't!" answered jim. "i've tumbled through the air long enough to make me contented on this roof." "but we didn't tumble to the roof," said the girl; "by the time we reached here we were floating very slowly, and i'm almost sure we could float down to the street without getting hurt. eureka walks on the air all right." "eureka weighs only about half a pound," replied the horse, in a scornful tone, "while i weigh about half a ton." "you don't weigh as much as you ought to, jim," remarked the girl, shaking her head as she looked at the animal. "you're dreadfully skinny." "oh, well; i'm old," said the horse, hanging his head despondently, "and i've had lots of trouble in my day, little one. for a good many years i drew a public cab in chicago, and that's enough to make anyone skinny." "he eats enough to get fat, i'm sure," said the boy, gravely. "do i? can you remember any breakfast that i've had today?" growled jim, as if he resented zeb's speech. "none of us has had breakfast," said the boy; "and in a time of danger like this it's foolish to talk about eating." "nothing is more dangerous than being without food," declared the horse, with a sniff at the rebuke of his young master; "and just at present no one can tell whether there are any oats in this queer country or not. if there are, they are liable to be glass oats!" [illustration: "come on, jim! it's all right."] "oh, no!" exclaimed dorothy. "i can see plenty of nice gardens and fields down below us, at the edge of this city. but i wish we could find a way to get to the ground." "why don't you walk down?" asked eureka. "i'm as hungry as the horse is, and i want my milk." "will you try it, zeb" asked the girl, turning to her companion. zeb hesitated. he was still pale and frightened, for this dreadful adventure had upset him and made him nervous and worried. but he did not wish the little girl to think him a coward, so he advanced slowly to the edge of the roof. dorothy stretched out a hand to him and zeb put one foot out and let it rest in the air a little over the edge of the roof. it seemed firm enough to walk upon, so he took courage and put out the other foot. dorothy kept hold of his hand and followed him, and soon they were both walking through the air, with the kitten frisking beside them. "come on, jim!" called the boy. "it's all right." jim had crept to the edge of the roof to look over, and being a sensible horse and quite experienced, he made up his mind that he could go where the others did. so, with a snort and a neigh and a whisk of his short tail he trotted off the roof into the air and at once began floating downward to the street. his great weight made him fall faster than the children walked, and he passed them on the way down; but when he came to the glass pavement he alighted upon it so softly that he was not even jarred. "well, well!" said dorothy, drawing a long breath, "what a strange country this is." people began to come out of the glass doors to look at the new arrivals, and pretty soon quite a crowd had assembled. there were men and women, but no children at all, and the folks were all beautifully formed and attractively dressed and had wonderfully handsome faces. there was not an ugly person in all the throng, yet dorothy was not especially pleased by the appearance of these people because their features had no more expression than the faces of dolls. they did not smile nor did they frown, or show either fear or surprise or curiosity or friendliness. they simply stared at the strangers, paying most attention to jim and eureka, for they had never before seen either a horse or a cat and the children bore an outward resemblance to themselves. pretty soon a man joined the group who wore a glistening star in the dark hair just over his forehead. he seemed to be a person of authority, for the others pressed back to give him room. after turning his composed eyes first upon the animals and then upon the children he said to zeb, who was a little taller than dorothy: "tell me, intruder, was it you who caused the rain of stones?" for a moment the boy did not know what he meant by this question. then, remembering the stones that had fallen with them and passed them long before they had reached this place, he answered: "no, sir; we didn't cause anything. it was the earthquake." the man with the star stood for a time quietly thinking over this speech. then he asked: "what is an earthquake?" "i don't know," said zeb, who was still confused. but dorothy, seeing his perplexity, answered: "it's a shaking of the earth. in this quake a big crack opened and we fell through--horse and buggy, and all--and the stones got loose and came down with us." the man with the star regarded her with his calm, expressionless eyes. "the rain of stones has done much damage to our city," he said; "and we shall hold you responsible for it unless you can prove your innocence." "how can we do that?" asked the girl. "that i am not prepared to say. it is your affair, not mine. you must go to the house of the sorcerer, who will soon discover the truth." "where is the house of the sorcerer?" the girl enquired. "i will lead you to it. come!" he turned and walked down the street, and after a moment's hesitation dorothy caught eureka in her arms and climbed into the buggy. the boy took his seat beside her and said: "gid-dap, jim." as the horse ambled along, drawing the buggy, the people of the glass city made way for them and formed a procession in their rear. slowly they moved down one street and up another, turning first this way and then that, until they came to an open square in the center of which was a big glass palace having a central dome and four tall spires on each corner. [illustration] chapter . the arrival of the wizard the doorway of the glass palace was quite big enough for the horse and buggy to enter, so zeb drove straight through it and the children found themselves in a lofty hall that was very beautiful. the people at once followed and formed a circle around the sides of the spacious room, leaving the horse and buggy and the man with the star to occupy the center of the hall. "come to us, oh, gwig!" called the man, in a loud voice. instantly a cloud of smoke appeared and rolled over the floor; then it slowly spread and ascended into the dome, disclosing a strange personage seated upon a glass throne just before jim's nose. he was formed just as were the other inhabitants of this land and his clothing only differed from theirs in being bright yellow. but he had no hair at all, and all over his bald head and face and upon the backs of his hands grew sharp thorns like those found on the branches of rose-bushes. there was even a thorn upon the tip of his nose and he looked so funny that dorothy laughed when she saw him. the sorcerer, hearing the laugh, looked toward the little girl with cold, cruel eyes, and his glance made her grow sober in an instant. "why have you dared to intrude your unwelcome persons into the secluded land of the mangaboos?" he asked, sternly. "'cause we couldn't help it," said dorothy. "why did you wickedly and viciously send the rain of stones to crack and break our houses?" he continued. "we didn't," declared the girl. "prove it!" cried the sorcerer. "we don't have to prove it," answered dorothy, indignantly. "if you had any sense at all you'd known it was the earthquake." "we only know that yesterday came a rain of stones upon us, which did much damage and injured some of our people. today came another rain of stones, and soon after it you appeared among us." "by the way," said the man with the star, looking steadily at the sorcerer, "you told us yesterday that there would not be a second rain of stones. yet one has just occurred that was even worse than the first. what is your sorcery good for if it cannot tell us the truth?" "my sorcery does tell the truth!" declared the thorn-covered man. "i said there would be but one rain of stones. this second one was a rain of people-and-horse-and-buggy. and some stones came with them." "will there be any more rains?" asked the man with the star. "no, my prince." "neither stones nor people?" "no, my prince." "are you sure?" "quite sure, my prince. my sorcery tells me so." just then a man came running into the hall and addressed the prince after making a low bow. "more wonders in the air, my lord," said he. immediately the prince and all of his people flocked out of the hall into the street, that they might see what was about to happen. dorothy and zeb jumped out of the buggy and ran after them, but the sorcerer remained calmly in his throne. far up in the air was an object that looked like a balloon. it was not so high as the glowing star of the six colored suns, but was descending slowly through the air--so slowly that at first it scarcely seemed to move. the throng stood still and waited. it was all they could do, for to go away and leave that strange sight was impossible; nor could they hurry its fall in any way. the earth children were not noticed, being so near the average size of the mangaboos, and the horse had remained in the house of the sorcerer, with eureka curled up asleep on the seat of the buggy. gradually the balloon grew bigger, which was proof that it was settling down upon the land of the mangaboos. dorothy was surprised to find how patient the people were, for her own little heart was beating rapidly with excitement. a balloon meant to her some other arrival from the surface of the earth, and she hoped it would be some one able to assist her and zeb out of their difficulties. in an hour the balloon had come near enough for her to see a basket suspended below it; in two hours she could see a head looking over the side of the basket; in three hours the big balloon settled slowly into the great square in which they stood and came to rest on the glass pavement. then a little man jumped out of the basket, took off his tall hat, and bowed very gracefully to the crowd of mangaboos around him. he was quite an old little man, and his head was long and entirely bald. "why," cried dorothy, in amazement, "it's oz!" the little man looked toward her and seemed as much surprised as she was. but he smiled and bowed as he answered: "yes, my dear; i am oz, the great and terrible. eh? and you are little dorothy, from kansas. i remember you very well." "who did you say it was?" whispered zeb to the girl. "it's the wonderful wizard of oz. haven't you heard of him?" just then the man with the star came and stood before the wizard. "sir," said he, "why are you here, in the land of the mangaboos?" "didn't know what land it was, my son," returned the other, with a pleasant smile; "and, to be honest, i didn't mean to visit you when i started out. i live on top of the earth, your honor, which is far better than living inside it; but yesterday i went up in a balloon, and when i came down i fell into a big crack in the earth, caused by an earthquake. i had let so much gas out of my balloon that i could not rise again, and in a few minutes the earth closed over my head. so i continued to descend until i reached this place, and if you will show me a way to get out of it, i'll go with pleasure. sorry to have troubled you; but it couldn't be helped." the prince had listened with attention. said he: "this child, who is from the crust of the earth, like yourself, called you a wizard. is not a wizard something like a sorcerer?" "it's better," replied oz, promptly. "one wizard is worth three sorcerers." "ah, you shall prove that," said the prince. "we mangaboos have, at the present time, one of the most wonderful sorcerers that ever was picked from a bush; but he sometimes makes mistakes. do you ever make mistakes?" "never!" declared the wizard, boldly. "oh, oz!" said dorothy; "you made a lot of mistakes when you were in the marvelous land of oz." "nonsense!" said the little man, turning red--although just then a ray of violet sunlight was on his round face. "come with me," said the prince to him. "i wish you to meet our sorcerer." the wizard did not like this invitation, but he could not refuse to accept it. so he followed the prince into the great domed hall, and dorothy and zeb came after them, while the throng of people trooped in also. there sat the thorny sorcerer in his chair of state, and when the wizard saw him he began to laugh, uttering comical little chuckles. "what an absurd creature!" he exclaimed. "he may look absurd," said the prince, in his quiet voice; "but he is an excellent sorcerer. the only fault i find with him is that he is so often wrong." "i am never wrong," answered the sorcerer. "only a short time ago you told me there would be no more rain of stones or of people," said the prince. "well, what then?" "here is another person descended from the air to prove you were wrong." "one person cannot be called 'people,'" said the sorcerer. "if two should come out of the sky you might with justice say i was wrong; but unless more than this one appears i will hold that i was right." "very clever," said the wizard, nodding his head as if pleased. "i am delighted to find humbugs inside the earth, just the same as on top of it. were you ever with a circus, brother?" "no," said the sorcerer. "you ought to join one," declared the little man seriously. "i belong to bailum & barney's great consolidated shows--three rings in one tent and a menagerie on the side. it's a fine aggregation, i assure you." "what do you do?" asked the sorcerer. "i go up in a balloon, usually, to draw the crowds to the circus. but i've just had the bad luck to come out of the sky, skip the solid earth, and land lower down than i intended. but never mind. it isn't everybody who gets a chance to see your land of the gabazoos." "mangaboos," said the sorcerer, correcting him. "if you are a wizard you ought to be able to call people by their right names." "oh, i'm a wizard; you may be sure of that. just as good a wizard as you are a sorcerer." "that remains to be seen," said the other. "if you are able to prove that you are better," said the prince to the little man, "i will make you the chief wizard of this domain. otherwise--" "what will happen otherwise?" asked the wizard. "i will stop you from living, and forbid you to be planted," returned the prince. "that does not sound especially pleasant," said the little man, looking at the one with the star uneasily. "but never mind. i'll beat old prickly, all right." "my name is gwig," said the sorcerer, turning his heartless, cruel eyes upon his rival. "let me see you equal the sorcery i am about to perform." he waved a thorny hand and at once the tinkling of bells was heard, playing sweet music. yet, look where she would, dorothy could discover no bells at all in the great glass hall. the mangaboo people listened, but showed no great interest. it was one of the things gwig usually did to prove he was a sorcerer. now was the wizard's turn, so he smiled upon the assemblage and asked: "will somebody kindly loan me a hat?" no one did, because the mangaboos did not wear hats, and zeb had lost his, somehow, in his flight through the air. "ahem!" said the wizard, "will somebody please loan me a handkerchief?" but they had no handkerchiefs, either. "very good," remarked the wizard. "i'll use my own hat, if you please. now, good people, observe me carefully. you see, there is nothing up my sleeve and nothing concealed about my person. also, my hat is quite empty." he took off his hat and held it upside down, shaking it briskly. "let me see it," said the sorcerer. he took the hat and examined it carefully, returning it afterward to the wizard. "now," said the little man, "i will create something out of nothing." he placed the hat upon the glass floor, made a pass with his hand, and then removed the hat, displaying a little white piglet no bigger than a mouse, which began to run around here and there and to grunt and squeal in a tiny, shrill voice. the people watched it intently, for they had never seen a pig before, big or little. the wizard reached out, caught the wee creature in his hand, and holding its head between one thumb and finger and its tail between the other thumb and finger he pulled it apart, each of the two parts becoming a whole and separate piglet in an instant. he placed one upon the floor, so that it could run around, and pulled apart the other, making three piglets in all; and then one of these was pulled apart, making four piglets. the wizard continued this surprising performance until nine tiny piglets were running about at his feet, all squealing and grunting in a very comical way. "now," said the wizard of oz, "having created something from nothing, i will make something nothing again." with this he caught up two of the piglets and pushed them together, so that the two were one. then he caught up another piglet and pushed it into the first, where it disappeared. and so, one by one, the nine tiny piglets were pushed together until but a single one of the creatures remained. this the wizard placed underneath his hat and made a mystic sign above it. when he removed his hat the last piglet had disappeared entirely. the little man gave a bow to the silent throng that had watched him, and then the prince said, in his cold, calm voice: "you are indeed a wonderful wizard, and your powers are greater than those of my sorcerer." "he will not be a wonderful wizard long," remarked gwig. "why not?" enquired the wizard. "because i am going to stop your breath," was the reply. "i perceive that you are curiously constructed, and that if you cannot breathe you cannot keep alive." the little man looked troubled. "how long will it take you to stop my breath?" he asked. "about five minutes. i'm going to begin now. watch me carefully." he began making queer signs and passes toward the wizard; but the little man did not watch him long. instead, he drew a leathern case from his pocket and took from it several sharp knives, which he joined together, one after another, until they made a long sword. by the time he had attached a handle to this sword he was having much trouble to breathe, as the charm of the sorcerer was beginning to take effect. so the wizard lost no more time, but leaping forward he raised the sharp sword, whirled it once or twice around his head, and then gave a mighty stroke that cut the body of the sorcerer exactly in two. dorothy screamed and expected to see a terrible sight; but as the two halves of the sorcerer fell apart on the floor she saw that he had no bones or blood inside of him at all, and that the place where he was cut looked much like a sliced turnip or potato. "why, he's vegetable!" cried the wizard, astonished. "of course," said the prince. "we are all vegetable, in this country. are you not vegetable, also?" "no," answered the wizard. "people on top of the earth are all meat. will your sorcerer die?" "certainly, sir. he is really dead now, and will wither very quickly. so we must plant him at once, that other sorcerers may grow upon his bush," continued the prince. "what do you mean by that?" asked the little wizard, greatly puzzled. "if you will accompany me to our public gardens," replied the prince, "i will explain to you much better than i can here the mysteries of our vegetable kingdom." [illustration: the wizard cut the sorcerer exactly in two.] chapter . the vegetable kingdom after the wizard had wiped the dampness from his sword and taken it apart and put the pieces into their leathern case again, the man with the star ordered some of his people to carry the two halves of the sorcerer to the public gardens. jim pricked up his ears when he heard they were going to the gardens, and wanted to join the party, thinking he might find something proper to eat; so zeb put down the top of the buggy and invited the wizard to ride with them. the seat was amply wide enough for the little man and the two children, and when jim started to leave the hall the kitten jumped upon his back and sat there quite contentedly. so the procession moved through the streets, the bearers of the sorcerer first, the prince next, then jim drawing the buggy with the strangers inside of it, and last the crowd of vegetable people who had no hearts and could neither smile nor frown. the glass city had several fine streets, for a good many people lived there; but when the procession had passed through these it came upon a broad plain covered with gardens and watered by many pretty brooks that flowed through it. there were paths through these gardens, and over some of the brooks were ornamental glass bridges. dorothy and zeb now got out of the buggy and walked beside the prince, so that they might see and examine the flowers and plants better. "who built these lovely bridges?" asked the little girl. "no one built them," answered the man with the star. "they grow." "that's queer," said she. "did the glass houses in your city grow, too?" "of course," he replied. "but it took a good many years for them to grow as large and fine as they are now. that is why we are so angry when a rain of stones comes to break our towers and crack our roofs." "can't you mend them?" she enquired. "no; but they will grow together again, in time, and we must wait until they do." they first passed through many beautiful gardens of flowers, which grew nearest the city; but dorothy could hardly tell what kind of flowers they were, because the colors were constantly changing under the shifting lights of the six suns. a flower would be pink one second, white the next, then blue or yellow; and it was the same way when they came to the plants, which had broad leaves and grew close to the ground. when they passed over a field of grass jim immediately stretched down his head and began to nibble. "a nice country this is," he grumbled, "where a respectable horse has to eat pink grass!" "it's violet," said the wizard, who was in the buggy. "now it's blue," complained the horse. "as a matter of fact, i'm eating rainbow grass." "how does it taste?" asked the wizard. "not bad at all," said jim. "if they give me plenty of it i'll not complain about its color." by this time the party had reached a freshly plowed field, and the prince said to dorothy: "this is our planting-ground." several mangaboos came forward with glass spades and dug a hole in the ground. then they put the two halves of the sorcerer into it and covered him up. after that other people brought water from a brook and sprinkled the earth. "he will sprout very soon," said the prince, "and grow into a large bush, from which we shall in time be able to pick several very good sorcerers." "do all your people grow on bushes?" asked the boy. "certainly," was the reply. "do not all people grow upon bushes where you came from, on the outside of the earth." "not that i ever heard of." "how strange! but if you will come with me to one of our folk gardens i will show you the way we grow in the land of the mangaboos." it appeared that these odd people, while they were able to walk through the air with ease, usually moved upon the ground in the ordinary way. there were no stairs in their houses, because they did not need them, but on a level surface they generally walked just as we do. the little party of strangers now followed the prince across a few more of the glass bridges and along several paths until they came to a garden enclosed by a high hedge. jim had refused to leave the field of grass, where he was engaged in busily eating; so the wizard got out of the buggy and joined zeb and dorothy, and the kitten followed demurely at their heels. inside the hedge they came upon row after row of large and handsome plants with broad leaves gracefully curving until their points nearly reached the ground. in the center of each plant grew a daintily dressed mangaboo, for the clothing of all these creatures grew upon them and was attached to their bodies. the growing mangaboos were of all sizes, from the blossom that had just turned into a wee baby to the full-grown and almost ripe man or woman. on some of the bushes might be seen a bud, a blossom, a baby, a half-grown person and a ripe one; but even those ready to pluck were motionless and silent, as if devoid of life. this sight explained to dorothy why she had seen no children among the mangaboos, a thing she had until now been unable to account for. "our people do not acquire their real life until they leave their bushes," said the prince. "you will notice they are all attached to the plants by the soles of their feet, and when they are quite ripe they are easily separated from the stems and at once attain the powers of motion and speech. so while they grow they cannot be said to really live, and they must be picked before they can become good citizens." "how long do you live, after you are picked?" asked dorothy. "that depends upon the care we take of ourselves," he replied. "if we keep cool and moist, and meet with no accidents, we often live for five years. i've been picked over six years, but our family is known to be especially long lived." "do you eat?" asked the boy. "eat! no, indeed. we are quite solid inside our bodies, and have no need to eat, any more than does a potato." "but the potatoes sometimes sprout," said zeb. "and sometimes we do," answered the prince; "but that is considered a great misfortune, for then we must be planted at once." "where did you grow?" asked the wizard. "i will show you," was the reply. "step this way, please." he led them within another but smaller circle of hedge, where grew one large and beautiful bush. "this," said he, "is the royal bush of the mangaboos. all of our princes and rulers have grown upon this one bush from time immemorial." they stood before it in silent admiration. on the central stalk stood poised the figure of a girl so exquisitely formed and colored and so lovely in the expression of her delicate features that dorothy thought she had never seen so sweet and adorable a creature in all her life. the maiden's gown was soft as satin and fell about her in ample folds, while dainty lace-like traceries trimmed the bodice and sleeves. her flesh was fine and smooth as polished ivory, and her poise expressed both dignity and grace. "who is this?" asked the wizard, curiously. the prince had been staring hard at the girl on the bush. now he answered, with a touch of uneasiness in his cold tones: "she is the ruler destined to be my successor, for she is a royal princess. when she becomes fully ripe i must abandon the sovereignty of the mangaboos to her." "isn't she ripe now?" asked dorothy. he hesitated. "not quite," said he, finally. "it will be several days before she needs to be picked, or at least that is my judgment. i am in no hurry to resign my office and be planted, you may be sure." "probably not," declared the wizard, nodding. "this is one of the most unpleasant things about our vegetable lives," continued the prince, with a sigh, "that while we are in our full prime we must give way to another, and be covered up in the ground to sprout and grow and give birth to other people." "i'm sure the princess is ready to be picked," asserted dorothy, gazing hard at the beautiful girl on the bush. "she's as perfect as she can be." "never mind," answered the prince, hastily, "she will be all right for a few days longer, and it is best for me to rule until i can dispose of you strangers, who have come to our land uninvited and must be attended to at once." "what are you going to do with us?" asked zeb. "that is a matter i have not quite decided upon," was the reply. "i think i shall keep this wizard until a new sorcerer is ready to pick, for he seems quite skillful and may be of use to us. but the rest of you must be destroyed in some way, and you cannot be planted, because i do not wish horses and cats and meat people growing all over our country." "you needn't worry," said dorothy. "we wouldn't grow under ground, i'm sure." "but why destroy my friends?" asked the little wizard. "why not let them live?" "they do not belong here," returned the prince. "they have no right to be inside the earth at all." "we didn't ask to come down here; we fell," said dorothy. "that is no excuse," declared the prince, coldly. the children looked at each other in perplexity, and the wizard sighed. eureka rubbed her paw on her face and said in her soft, purring voice: "he won't need to destroy _me_, for if i don't get something to eat pretty soon i shall starve to death, and so save him the trouble." "if he planted you, he might grow some cat-tails," suggested the wizard. "oh, eureka! perhaps we can find you some milk-weeds to eat," said the boy. "phoo!" snarled the kitten; "i wouldn't touch the nasty things!" "you don't need milk, eureka," remarked dorothy; "you are big enough now to eat any kind of food." "if i can get it," added eureka. "i'm hungry myself," said zeb. "but i noticed some strawberries growing in one of the gardens, and some melons in another place. these people don't eat such things, so perhaps on our way back they will let us get them." "never mind your hunger," interrupted the prince. "i shall order you destroyed in a few minutes, so you will have no need to ruin our pretty melon vines and berry bushes. follow me, please, to meet your doom." chapter . dorothy picks the princess the words of the cold and moist vegetable prince were not very comforting, and as he spoke them he turned away and left the enclosure. the children, feeling sad and despondent, were about to follow him when the wizard touched dorothy softly on her shoulder. "wait!" he whispered. "what for?" asked the girl. "suppose we pick the royal princess," said the wizard. "i'm quite sure she's ripe, and as soon as she comes to life she will be the ruler, and may treat us better than that heartless prince intends to." "all right!" exclaimed dorothy, eagerly. "let's pick her while we have the chance, before the man with the star comes back." so together they leaned over the great bush and each of them seized one hand of the lovely princess. "pull!" cried dorothy, and as they did so the royal lady leaned toward them and the stems snapped and separated from her feet. she was not at all heavy, so the wizard and dorothy managed to lift her gently to the ground. the beautiful creature passed her hands over her eyes an instant, tucked in a stray lock of hair that had become disarranged, and after a look around the garden made those present a gracious bow and said, in a sweet but even toned voice: "i thank you very much." "we salute your royal highness!" cried the wizard, kneeling and kissing her hand. just then the voice of the prince was heard calling upon them to hasten, and a moment later he returned to the enclosure, followed by a number of his people. instantly the princess turned and faced him, and when he saw that she was picked the prince stood still and began to tremble. "sir," said the royal lady, with much dignity, "you have wronged me greatly, and would have wronged me still more had not these strangers come to my rescue. i have been ready for picking all the past week, but because you were selfish and desired to continue your unlawful rule, you left me to stand silent upon my bush." "i did not know that you were ripe," answered the prince, in a low voice. "give me the star of royalty!" she commanded. slowly he took the shining star from his own brow and placed it upon that of the princess. then all the people bowed low to her, and the prince turned and walked away alone. what became of him afterward our friends never knew. the people of mangaboo now formed themselves into a procession and marched toward the glass city to escort their new ruler to her palace and to perform those ceremonies proper to the occasion. but while the people in the procession walked upon the ground the princess walked in the air just above their heads, to show that she was a superior being and more exalted than her subjects. no one now seemed to pay any attention to the strangers, so dorothy and zeb and the wizard let the train pass on and then wandered by themselves into the vegetable gardens. they did not bother to cross the bridges over the brooks, but when they came to a stream they stepped high and walked in the air to the other side. this was a very interesting experience to them, and dorothy said: "i wonder why it is that we can walk so easily in the air." "perhaps," answered the wizard, "it is because we are close to the center of the earth, where the attraction of gravitation is very slight. but i've noticed that many queer things happen in fairy countries." "is this a fairy country?" asked the boy. "of course it is," returned dorothy, promptly. "only a fairy country could have veg'table people; and only in a fairy country could eureka and jim talk as we do." "that's true," said zeb, thoughtfully. in the vegetable gardens they found the strawberries and melons, and several other unknown but delicious fruits, of which they ate heartily. but the kitten bothered them constantly by demanding milk or meat, and called the wizard names because he could not bring her a dish of milk by means of his magical arts. as they sat upon the grass watching jim, who was still busily eating, eureka said: "i don't believe you are a wizard at all!" "no," answered the little man, "you are quite right. in the strict sense of the word i am not a wizard, but only a humbug." "the wizard of oz has always been a humbug," agreed dorothy. "i've known him for a long time." "if that is so," said the boy, "how could he do that wonderful trick with the nine tiny piglets?" "don't know," said dorothy, "but it must have been humbug." "very true," declared the wizard, nodding at her. "it was necessary to deceive that ugly sorcerer and the prince, as well as their stupid people; but i don't mind telling you, who are my friends, that the thing was only a trick." "but i saw the little pigs with my own eyes!" exclaimed zeb. "so did i," purred the kitten. "to be sure," answered the wizard. "you saw them because they were there. they are in my inside pocket now. but the pulling of them apart and pushing them together again was only a sleight-of-hand trick." "let's see the pigs," said eureka, eagerly. the little man felt carefully in his pocket and pulled out the tiny piglets, setting them upon the grass one by one, where they ran around and nibbled the tender blades. "they're hungry, too," he said. "oh, what cunning things!" cried dorothy, catching up one and petting it. "be careful!" said the piglet, with a squeal, "you're squeezing me!" "dear me!" murmured the wizard, looking at his pets in astonishment. "they can actually talk!" "may i eat one of them?" asked the kitten, in a pleading voice. "i'm awfully hungry." "why, eureka," said dorothy, reproachfully, "what a cruel question! it would be dreadful to eat these dear little things." "i should say so!" grunted another of the piglets, looking uneasily at the kitten; "cats are cruel things." "i'm not cruel," replied the kitten, yawning. "i'm just hungry." "you cannot eat my piglets, even if you are starving," declared the little man, in a stern voice. "they are the only things i have to prove i'm a wizard." "how did they happen to be so little?" asked dorothy. "i never saw such small pigs before." "they are from the island of teenty-weent," said the wizard, "where everything is small because it's a small island. a sailor brought them to los angeles and i gave him nine tickets to the circus for them." "but what am i going to eat?" wailed the kitten, sitting in front of dorothy and looking pleadingly into her face. "there are no cows here to give milk; or any mice, or even grasshoppers. and if i can't eat the piglets you may as well plant me at once and raise catsup." "i have an idea," said the wizard, "that there are fishes in these brooks. do you like fish?" "fish!" cried the kitten. "do i like fish? why, they're better than piglets--or even milk!" "then i'll try to catch you some," said he. "but won't they be veg'table, like everything else here?" asked the kitten. "i think not. fishes are not animals, and they are as cold and moist as the vegetables themselves. there is no reason, that i can see, why they may not exist in the waters of this strange country." then the wizard bent a pin for a hook and took a long piece of string from his pocket for a fish-line. the only bait he could find was a bright red blossom from a flower; but he knew fishes are easy to fool if anything bright attracts their attention, so he decided to try the blossom. having thrown the end of his line in the water of a nearby brook he soon felt a sharp tug that told him a fish had bitten and was caught on the bent pin; so the little man drew in the string and, sure enough, the fish came with it and was landed safely on the shore, where it began to flop around in great excitement. [illustration: in the garden of the mangaboos.] the fish was fat and round, and its scales glistened like beautifully cut jewels set close together; but there was no time to examine it closely, for eureka made a jump and caught it between her claws, and in a few moments it had entirely disappeared. "oh, eureka!" cried dorothy, "did you eat the bones?" "if it had any bones, i ate them," replied the kitten, composedly, as it washed its face after the meal. "but i don't think that fish had any bones, because i didn't feel them scratch my throat." "you were very greedy," said the girl. "i was very hungry," replied the kitten. the little pigs had stood huddled in a group, watching this scene with frightened eyes. "cats are dreadful creatures!" said one of them. "i'm glad we are not fishes!" said another. "don't worry," dorothy murmured, soothingly, "i'll not let the kitten hurt you." then she happened to remember that in a corner of her suit-case were one or two crackers that were left over from her luncheon on the train, and she went to the buggy and brought them. eureka stuck up her nose at such food, but the tiny piglets squealed delightedly at the sight of the crackers and ate them up in a jiffy. "now let us go back to the city," suggested the wizard. "that is, if jim has had enough of the pink grass." the cab-horse, who was browsing near, lifted his head with a sigh. "i've tried to eat a lot while i had the chance," said he, "for it's likely to be a long while between meals in this strange country. but i'm ready to go, now, at any time you wish." so, after the wizard had put the piglets back into his inside pocket, where they cuddled up and went to sleep, the three climbed into the buggy and jim started back to the town. "where shall we stay?" asked the girl. "i think i shall take possession of the house of the sorcerer," replied the wizard; "for the prince said in the presence of his people that he would keep me until they picked another sorcerer, and the new princess won't know but that we belong there." they agreed to this plan, and when they reached the great square jim drew the buggy into the big door of the domed hall. "it doesn't look very homelike," said dorothy, gazing around at the bare room. "but it's a place to stay, anyhow." "what are those holes up there?" enquired the boy, pointing to some openings that appeared near the top of the dome. "they look like doorways," said dorothy; "only there are no stairs to get to them." "you forget that stairs are unnecessary," observed the wizard. "let us walk up, and see where the doors lead to." with this he began walking in the air toward the high openings, and dorothy and zeb followed him. it was the same sort of climb one experiences when walking up a hill, and they were nearly out of breath when they came to the row of openings, which they perceived to be doorways leading into halls in the upper part of the house. following these halls they discovered many small rooms opening from them, and some were furnished with glass benches, tables and chairs. but there were no beds at all. "i wonder if these people never sleep," said the girl. "why, there seems to be no night at all in this country," zeb replied. "those colored suns are exactly in the same place they were when we came, and if there is no sunset there can be no night." "very true," agreed the wizard. "but it is a long time since i have had any sleep, and i'm tired. so i think i shall lie down upon one of these hard glass benches and take a nap." "i will, too," said dorothy, and chose a little room at the end of the hall. zeb walked down again to unharness jim, who, when he found himself free, rolled over a few times and then settled down to sleep, with eureka nestling comfortably beside his big, boney body. then the boy returned to one of the upper rooms, and in spite of the hardness of the glass bench was soon deep in slumberland. [illustration] chapter . the mangaboos prove dangerous when the wizard awoke the six colored suns were shining down upon the land of the mangaboos just as they had done ever since his arrival. the little man, having had a good sleep, felt rested and refreshed, and looking through the glass partition of the room he saw zeb sitting up on his bench and yawning. so the wizard went in to him. "zeb," said he, "my balloon is of no further use in this strange country, so i may as well leave it on the square where it fell. but in the basket-car are some things i would like to keep with me. i wish you would go and fetch my satchel, two lanterns, and a can of kerosene oil that is under the seat. there is nothing else that i care about." so the boy went willingly upon the errand, and by the time he had returned dorothy was awake. then the three held a counsel to decide what they should do next, but could think of no way to better their condition. "i don't like these veg'table people," said the little girl. "they're cold and flabby, like cabbages, in spite of their prettiness." "i agree with you. it is because there is no warm blood in them," remarked the wizard. "and they have no hearts; so they can't love anyone--not even themselves," declared the boy. "the princess is lovely to look at," continued dorothy, thoughtfully; "but i don't care much for her, after all. if there was any other place to go, i'd like to go there." "but _is_ there any other place?" asked the wizard. "i don't know," she answered. just then they heard the big voice of jim the cab-horse calling to them, and going to the doorway leading to the dome they found the princess and a throng of her people had entered the house of the sorcerer. so they went down to greet the beautiful vegetable lady, who said to them: "i have been talking with my advisors about you meat people, and we have decided that you do not belong in the land of the mangaboos and must not remain here." "how can we go away?" asked dorothy. "oh, you cannot go away, of course; so you must be destroyed," was the answer. "in what way?" enquired the wizard. "we shall throw you three people into the garden of the twining vines," said the princess, "and they will soon crush you and devour your bodies to make themselves grow bigger. the animals you have with you we will drive to the mountains and put into the black pit. then our country will be rid of all its unwelcome visitors." "but you are in need of a sorcerer," said the wizard, "and not one of those growing is yet ripe enough to pick. i am greater than any thorn-covered sorcerer that ever grew in your garden. why destroy me?" "it is true we need a sorcerer," acknowledged the princess, "but i am informed that one of our own will be ready to pick in a few days, to take the place of gwig, whom you cut in two before it was time for him to be planted. let us see your arts, and the sorceries you are able to perform. then i will decide whether to destroy you with the others or not." at this the wizard made a bow to the people and repeated his trick of producing the nine tiny piglets and making them disappear again. he did it very cleverly, indeed, and the princess looked at the strange piglets as if she were as truly astonished as any vegetable person could be. but afterward she said: "i have heard of this wonderful magic. but it accomplishes nothing of value. what else can you do?" the wizard tried to think. then he jointed together the blades of his sword and balanced it very skillfully upon the end of his nose. but even that did not satisfy the princess. just then his eye fell upon the lanterns and the can of kerosene oil which zeb had brought from the car of his balloon, and he got a clever idea from those commonplace things. "your highness," said he, "i will now proceed to prove my magic by creating two suns that you have never seen before; also i will exhibit a destroyer much more dreadful than your clinging vines." so he placed dorothy upon one side of him and the boy upon the other and set a lantern upon each of their heads. "don't laugh," he whispered to them, "or you will spoil the effect of my magic." [illustration: "now, princess," exclaimed the wizard.] then, with much dignity and a look of vast importance upon his wrinkled face, the wizard got out his match-box and lighted the two lanterns. the glare they made was very small when compared with the radiance of the six great colored suns; but still they gleamed steadily and clearly. the mangaboos were much impressed because they had never before seen any light that did not come directly from their suns. next the wizard poured a pool of oil from the can upon the glass floor, where it covered quite a broad surface. when he lighted the oil a hundred tongues of flame shot up, and the effect was really imposing. "now, princess," exclaimed the wizard, "those of your advisors who wished to throw us into the garden of clinging vines must step within this circle of light. if they advised you well, and were in the right, they will not be injured in any way. but if any advised you wrongly, the light will wither him." the advisors of the princess did not like this test; but she commanded them to step into the flame and one by one they did so, and were scorched so badly that the air was soon filled with an odor like that of baked potatoes. some of the mangaboos fell down and had to be dragged from the fire, and all were so withered that it would be necessary to plant them at once. "sir," said the princess to the wizard, "you are greater than any sorcerer we have ever known. as it is evident that my people have advised me wrongly, i will not cast you three people into the dreadful garden of the clinging vines; but your animals must be driven into the black pit in the mountain, for my subjects cannot bear to have them around." the wizard was so pleased to have saved the two children and himself that he said nothing against this decree; but when the princess had gone both jim and eureka protested they did not want to go to the black pit, and dorothy promised she would do all that she could to save them from such a fate. for two or three days after this--if we call days the periods between sleep, there being no night to divide the hours into days--our friends were not disturbed in any way. they were even permitted to occupy the house of the sorcerer in peace, as if it had been their own, and to wander in the gardens in search of food. once they came near to the enclosed garden of the clinging vines, and walking high into the air looked down upon it with much interest. they saw a mass of tough green vines all matted together and writhing and twisting around like a nest of great snakes. everything the vines touched they crushed, and our adventurers were indeed thankful to have escaped being cast among them. whenever the wizard went to sleep he would take the nine tiny piglets from his pocket and let them run around on the floor of his room to amuse themselves and get some exercise; and one time they found his glass door ajar and wandered into the hall and then into the bottom part of the great dome, walking through the air as easily as eureka could. they knew the kitten, by this time, so they scampered over to where she lay beside jim and commenced to frisk and play with her. the cab-horse, who never slept long at a time, sat upon his haunches and watched the tiny piglets and the kitten with much approval. "don't be rough!" he would call out, if eureka knocked over one of the round, fat piglets with her paw; but the pigs never minded, and enjoyed the sport very greatly. suddenly they looked up to find the room filled with the silent, solemn-eyed mangaboos. each of the vegetable folks bore a branch covered with sharp thorns, which was thrust defiantly toward the horse, the kitten and the piglets. "here--stop this foolishness!" jim roared, angrily; but after being pricked once or twice he got upon his four legs and kept out of the way of the thorns. the mangaboos surrounded them in solid ranks, but left an opening to the doorway of the hall; so the animals slowly retreated until they were driven from the room and out upon the street. here were more of the vegetable people with thorns, and silently they urged the now frightened creatures down the street. jim had to be careful not to step upon the tiny piglets, who scampered under his feet grunting and squealing, while eureka, snarling and biting at the thorns pushed toward her, also tried to protect the pretty little things from injury. slowly but steadily the heartless mangaboos drove them on, until they had passed through the city and the gardens and come to the broad plains leading to the mountain. "what does all this mean, anyhow?" asked the horse, jumping to escape a thorn. "why, they are driving us toward the black pit, into which they threatened to cast us," replied the kitten. "if i were as big as you are, jim, i'd fight these miserable turnip-roots!" "what would you do?" enquired jim. "i'd kick out with those long legs and iron-shod hoofs." "all right," said the horse; "i'll do it." an instant later he suddenly backed toward the crowd of mangaboos and kicked out his hind legs as hard as he could. a dozen of them smashed together and tumbled to the ground, and seeing his success jim kicked again and again, charging into the vegetable crowd, knocking them in all directions and sending the others scattering to escape his iron heels. eureka helped him by flying into the faces of the enemy and scratching and biting furiously, and the kitten ruined so many vegetable complexions that the mangaboos feared her as much as they did the horse. but the foes were too many to be repulsed for long. they tired jim and eureka out, and although the field of battle was thickly covered with mashed and disabled mangaboos, our animal friends had to give up at last and allow themselves to be driven to the mountain. [illustration] chapter . into the black pit and out again when they came to the mountain it proved to be a rugged, towering chunk of deep green glass, and looked dismal and forbidding in the extreme. half way up the steep was a yawning cave, black as night beyond the point where the rainbow rays of the colored suns reached into it. the mangaboos drove the horse and the kitten and the piglets into this dark hole and then, having pushed the buggy in after them--for it seemed some of them had dragged it all the way from the domed hall--they began to pile big glass rocks within the entrance, so that the prisoners could not get out again. "this is dreadful!" groaned jim. "it will be about the end of our adventures, i guess." "if the wizard was here," said one of the piglets, sobbing bitterly, "he would not see us suffer so." "we ought to have called him and dorothy when we were first attacked," added eureka. "but never mind; be brave, my friends, and i will go and tell our masters where you are, and get them to come to your rescue." the mouth of the hole was nearly filled up now, but the kitten gave a leap through the remaining opening and at once scampered up into the air. the mangaboos saw her escape, and several of them caught up their thorns and gave chase, mounting through the air after her. eureka, however, was lighter than the mangaboos, and while they could mount only about a hundred feet above the earth the kitten found she could go nearly two hundred feet. so she ran along over their heads until she had left them far behind and below and had come to the city and the house of the sorcerer. there she entered in at dorothy's window in the dome and aroused her from her sleep. as soon as the little girl knew what had happened she awakened the wizard and zeb, and at once preparations were made to go to the rescue of jim and the piglets. the wizard carried his satchel, which was quite heavy, and zeb carried the two lanterns and the oil can. dorothy's wicker suit-case was still under the seat of the buggy, and by good fortune the boy had also placed the harness in the buggy when he had taken it off from jim to let the horse lie down and rest. so there was nothing for the girl to carry but the kitten, which she held close to her bosom and tried to comfort, for its little heart was still beating rapidly. some of the mangaboos discovered them as soon as they left the house of the sorcerer; but when they started toward the mountain the vegetable people allowed them to proceed without interference, yet followed in a crowd behind them so that they could not go back again. before long they neared the black pit, where a busy swarm of mangaboos, headed by their princess, was engaged in piling up glass rocks before the entrance. "stop, i command you!" cried the wizard, in an angry tone, and at once began pulling down the rocks to liberate jim and the piglets. instead of opposing him in this they stood back in silence until he had made a good-sized hole in the barrier, when by order of the princess they all sprang forward and thrust out their sharp thorns. [illustration: through the black pit.] dorothy hopped inside the opening to escape being pricked, and zeb and the wizard, after enduring a few stabs from the thorns, were glad to follow her. at once the mangaboos began piling up the rocks of glass again, and as the little man realized that they were all about to be entombed in the mountain he said to the children: "my dears, what shall we do? jump out and fight?" "what's the use?" replied dorothy. "i'd as soon die here as live much longer among those cruel and heartless people." "that's the way i feel about it," remarked zeb, rubbing his wounds. "i've had enough of the mangaboos." "all right," said the wizard; "i'm with you, whatever you decide. but we can't live long in this cavern, that's certain." noticing that the light was growing dim he picked up his nine piglets, patted each one lovingly on its fat little head, and placed them carefully in his inside pocket. zeb struck a match and lighted one of the lanterns. the rays of the colored suns were now shut out from them forever, for the last chinks had been filled up in the wall that separated their prison from the land of the mangaboos. "how big is this hole?" asked dorothy. "i'll explore it and see," replied the boy. so he carried the lantern back for quite a distance, while dorothy and the wizard followed at his side. the cavern did not come to an end, as they had expected it would, but slanted upward through the great glass mountain, running in a direction that promised to lead them to the side opposite the mangaboo country. "it isn't a bad road," observed the wizard, "and if we followed it it might lead us to some place that is more comfortable than this black pocket we are now in. i suppose the vegetable folk were always afraid to enter this cavern because it is dark; but we have our lanterns to light the way, so i propose that we start out and discover where this tunnel in the mountain leads to." the others agreed readily to this sensible suggestion, and at once the boy began to harness jim to the buggy. when all was in readiness the three took their seats in the buggy and jim started cautiously along the way, zeb driving while the wizard and dorothy each held a lighted lantern so the horse could see where to go. sometimes the tunnel was so narrow that the wheels of the buggy grazed the sides; then it would broaden out as wide as a street; but the floor was usually smooth, and for a long time they travelled on without any accident. jim stopped sometimes to rest, for the climb was rather steep and tiresome. "we must be nearly as high as the six colored suns, by this time," said dorothy. "i didn't know this mountain was so tall." "we are certainly a good distance away from the land of the mangaboos," added zeb; "for we have slanted away from it ever since we started." but they kept steadily moving, and just as jim was about tired out with his long journey the way suddenly grew lighter, and zeb put out the lanterns to save the oil. to their joy they found it was a white light that now greeted them, for all were weary of the colored rainbow lights which, after a time, had made their eyes ache with their constantly shifting rays. the sides of the tunnel showed before them like the inside of a long spy-glass, and the floor became more level. jim hastened his lagging steps at this assurance of a quick relief from the dark passage, and in a few moments more they had emerged from the mountain and found themselves face to face with a new and charming country. [illustration] chapter . the valley of voices by journeying through the glass mountain they had reached a delightful valley that was shaped like the hollow of a great cup, with another rugged mountain showing on the other side of it, and soft and pretty green hills at the ends. it was all laid out into lovely lawns and gardens, with pebble paths leading through them and groves of beautiful and stately trees dotting the landscape here and there. there were orchards, too, bearing luscious fruits that are all unknown in our world. alluring brooks of crystal water flowed sparkling between their flower-strewn banks, while scattered over the valley were dozens of the quaintest and most picturesque cottages our travelers had ever beheld. none of them were in clusters, such as villages or towns, but each had ample grounds of its own, with orchards and gardens surrounding it. as the new arrivals gazed upon this exquisite scene they were enraptured by its beauties and the fragrance that permeated the soft air, which they breathed so gratefully after the confined atmosphere of the tunnel. several minutes were consumed in silent admiration before they noticed two very singular and unusual facts about this valley. one was that it was lighted from some unseen source; for no sun or moon was in the arched blue sky, although every object was flooded with a clear and perfect light. the second and even more singular fact was the absence of any inhabitant of this splendid place. from their elevated position they could overlook the entire valley, but not a single moving object could they see. all appeared mysteriously deserted. the mountain on this side was not glass, but made of a stone similar to granite. with some difficulty and danger jim drew the buggy over the loose rocks until he reached the green lawns below, where the paths and orchards and gardens began. the nearest cottage was still some distance away. "isn't it fine?" cried dorothy, in a joyous voice, as she sprang out of the buggy and let eureka run frolicking over the velvety grass. "yes, indeed!" answered zeb. "we were lucky to get away from those dreadful vegetable people." "it wouldn't be so bad," remarked the wizard, gazing around him, "if we were obliged to live here always. we couldn't find a prettier place, i'm sure." he took the piglets from his pocket and let them run on the grass, and jim tasted a mouthful of the green blades and declared he was very contented in his new surroundings. "we can't walk in the air here, though," called eureka, who had tried it and failed; but the others were satisfied to walk on the ground, and the wizard said they must be nearer the surface of the earth than they had been in the mangaboo country, for everything was more homelike and natural. "but where are the people?" asked dorothy. the little man shook his bald head. "can't imagine, my dear," he replied. they heard the sudden twittering of a bird, but could not find the creature anywhere. slowly they walked along the path toward the nearest cottage, the piglets racing and gambolling beside them and jim pausing at every step for another mouthful of grass. presently they came to a low plant which had broad, spreading leaves, in the center of which grew a single fruit about as large as a peach. the fruit was so daintily colored and so fragrant, and looked so appetizing and delicious that dorothy stopped and exclaimed: "what is it, do you s'pose?" the piglets had smelled the fruit quickly, and before the girl could reach out her hand to pluck it every one of the nine tiny ones had rushed in and commenced to devour it with great eagerness. "it's good, anyway," said zeb, "or those little rascals wouldn't have gobbled it up so greedily." "where are they?" asked dorothy, in astonishment. they all looked around, but the piglets had disappeared. "dear me!" cried the wizard; "they must have run away. but i didn't see them go; did you?" "no!" replied the boy and the girl, together. "here,--piggy, piggy, piggy!" called their master, anxiously. several squeals and grunts were instantly heard at his feet, but the wizard could not discover a single piglet. "where are you?" he asked. "why, right beside you," spoke a tiny voice. "can't you see us?" [illustration: "are there really people in this room?"] "no," answered the little man, in a puzzled tone. "we can see you," said another of the piglets. the wizard stooped down and put out his hand, and at once felt the small fat body of one of his pets. he picked it up, but could not see what he held. "it is very strange," said he, soberly. "the piglets have become invisible, in some curious way." "i'll bet it's because they ate that peach!" cried the kitten. "it wasn't a peach, eureka," said dorothy. "i only hope it wasn't poison." "it was fine, dorothy," called one of the piglets. "we'll eat all we can find of them," said another. "but _we_ mus'n't eat them," the wizard warned the children, "or we too may become invisible, and lose each other. if we come across another of the strange fruit we must avoid it." calling the piglets to him he picked them all up, one by one, and put them away in his pocket; for although he could not see them he could feel them, and when he had buttoned his coat he knew they were safe for the present. the travellers now resumed their walk toward the cottage, which they presently reached. it was a pretty place, with vines growing thickly over the broad front porch. the door stood open and a table was set in the front room, with four chairs drawn up to it. on the table were plates, knives and forks, and dishes of bread, meat and fruits. the meat was smoking hot and the knives and forks were performing strange antics and jumping here and there in quite a puzzling way. but not a single person appeared to be in the room. "how funny!" exclaimed dorothy, who with zeb and the wizard now stood in the doorway. a peal of merry laughter answered her, and the knives and forks fell to the plates with a clatter. one of the chairs pushed back from the table, and this was so astonishing and mysterious that dorothy was almost tempted to run away in fright. "here are strangers, mama!" cried the shrill and childish voice of some unseen person. "so i see, my dear," answered another voice, soft and womanly. "what do you want?" demanded a third voice, in a stern, gruff accent. "well, well!" said the wizard; "are there really people in this room?" "of course," replied the man's voice. "and--pardon me for the foolish question--but, are you all invisible?" "surely," the woman answered, repeating her low, rippling laughter. "are you surprised that you are unable to see the people of voe?" "why, yes," stammered the wizard. "all the people i have ever met before were very plain to see." "where do you come from, then?" asked the woman, in a curious tone. "we belong upon the face of the earth," explained the wizard, "but recently, during an earthquake, we fell down a crack and landed in the country of the mangaboos." "dreadful creatures!" exclaimed the woman's voice. "i've heard of them." "they walled us up in a mountain," continued the wizard; "but we found there was a tunnel through to this side, so we came here. it is a beautiful place. what do you call it?" "it is the valley of voe." "thank you. we have seen no people since we arrived, so we came to this house to enquire our way." "are you hungry?" asked the woman's voice. "i could eat something," said dorothy. "so could i," added zeb. "but we do not wish to intrude, i assure you," the wizard hastened to say. "that's all right," returned the man's voice, more pleasantly than before. "you are welcome to what we have." as he spoke the voice came so near to zeb that he jumped back in alarm. two childish voices laughed merrily at this action, and dorothy was sure they were in no danger among such light-hearted folks, even if those folks couldn't be seen. "what curious animal is that which is eating the grass on my lawn?" enquired the man's voice. "that's jim," said the girl. "he's a horse." "what is he good for?" was the next question. "he draws the buggy you see fastened to him, and we ride in the buggy instead of walking," she explained. "can he fight?" asked the man's voice. "no! he can kick pretty hard with his heels, and bite a little; but jim can't 'zactly fight," she replied. "then the bears will get him," said one of the children's voices. "bears!" exclaimed dorothy. "are these bears here?" "that is the one evil of our country," answered the invisible man. "many large and fierce bears roam in the valley of voe, and when they can catch any of us they eat us up; but as they cannot see us, we seldom get caught." "are the bears invis'ble, too?" asked the girl. "yes; for they eat of the dama-fruit, as we all do, and that keeps them from being seen by any eye, whether human or animal." "does the dama-fruit grow on a low bush, and look something like a peach?" asked the wizard. "yes," was the reply. "if it makes you invis'ble, why do you eat it?" dorothy enquired. "for two reasons, my dear," the woman's voice answered. "the dama-fruit is the most delicious thing that grows, and when it makes us invisible the bears cannot find us to eat us up. but now, good wanderers, your luncheon is on the table, so please sit down and eat as much as you like." [illustration] chapter . they fight the invisible bears the strangers took their seats at the table willingly enough, for they were all hungry and the platters were now heaped with good things to eat. in front of each place was a plate bearing one of the delicious dama-fruit, and the perfume that rose from these was so enticing and sweet that they were sorely tempted to eat of them and become invisible. but dorothy satisfied her hunger with other things, and her companions did likewise, resisting the temptation. "why do you not eat the damas?" asked the woman's voice. "we don't want to get invis'ble," answered the girl. "but if you remain visible the bears will see you and devour you," said a girlish young voice, that belonged to one of the children. "we who live here much prefer to be invisible; for we can still hug and kiss one another, and are quite safe from the bears." "and we do not have to be so particular about our dress," remarked the man. "and mama can't tell whether my face is dirty or not!" added the other childish voice, gleefully. "but i make you wash it, every time i think of it," said the mother; "for it stands to reason your face is dirty, ianu, whether i can see it or not." dorothy laughed and stretched out her hands. "come here, please--ianu and your sister--and let me feel of you," she requested. they came to her willingly, and dorothy passed her hands over their faces and forms and decided one was a girl of about her own age and the other a boy somewhat smaller. the girl's hair was soft and fluffy and her skin as smooth as satin. when dorothy gently touched her nose and ears and lips they seemed to be well and delicately formed. "if i could see you i am sure you would be beautiful," she declared. the girl laughed, and her mother said: "we are not vain in the valley of voe, because we can not display our beauty, and good actions and pleasant ways are what make us lovely to our companions. yet we can see and appreciate the beauties of nature, the dainty flowers and trees, the green fields and the clear blue of the sky." "how about the birds and beasts and fishes?" asked zeb. "the birds we cannot see, because they love to eat of the damas as much as we do; yet we hear their sweet songs and enjoy them. neither can we see the cruel bears, for they also eat the fruit. but the fishes that swim in our brooks we can see, and often we catch them to eat." "it occurs to me you have a great deal to make you happy, even while invisible," remarked the wizard. "nevertheless, we prefer to remain visible while we are in your valley." just then eureka came in, for she had been until now wandering outside with jim; and when the kitten saw the table set with food she cried out: "now you must feed me, dorothy, for i'm half starved." the children were inclined to be frightened by the sight of the small animal, which reminded them of the bears; but dorothy reassured them by explaining that eureka was a pet and could do no harm even if she wished to. then, as the others had by this time moved away from the table, the kitten sprang upon the chair and put her paws upon the cloth to see what there was to eat. to her surprise an unseen hand clutched her and held her suspended in the air. eureka was frantic with terror, and tried to scratch and bite, so the next moment she was dropped to the floor. "did you see that, dorothy?" she gasped. "yes, dear," her mistress replied; "there are people living in this house, although we cannot see them. and you must have better manners, eureka, or something worse will happen to you." she placed a plate of food upon the floor and the kitten ate greedily. "give me that nice-smelling fruit i saw on the table," she begged, when she had cleaned the plate. "those are damas," said dorothy, "and you must never even taste them, eureka, or you'll get invis'ble, and then we can't see you at all." the kitten gazed wistfully at the forbidden fruit. "does it hurt to be invis'ble?" she asked. "i don't know," dorothy answered; "but it would hurt me dre'fully to lose you." "very well, i won't touch it," decided the kitten; "but you must keep it away from me, for the smell is very tempting." "can you tell us, sir or ma'am," said the wizard, addressing the air because he did not quite know where the unseen people stood, "if there is any way we can get out of your beautiful valley, and on top of the earth again." "oh, one can leave the valley easily enough," answered the man's voice; "but to do so you must enter a far less pleasant country. as for reaching the top of the earth, i have never heard that it is possible to do that, and if you succeeded in getting there you would probably fall off." "oh, no," said dorothy, "we've been there, and we know." "the valley of voe is certainly a charming place," resumed the wizard; "but we cannot be contented in any other land than our own, for long. even if we should come to unpleasant places on our way it is necessary, in order to reach the earth's surface, to keep moving on toward it." "in that case," said the man, "it will be best for you to cross our valley and mount the spiral staircase inside the pyramid mountain. the top of that mountain is lost in the clouds, and when you reach it you will be in the awful land of naught, where the gargoyles live." "what are gargoyles?" asked zeb. "i do not know, young sir. our greatest champion, overman-anu, once climbed the spiral stairway and fought nine days with the gargoyles before he could escape them and come back; but he could never be induced to describe the dreadful creatures, and soon afterward a bear caught him and ate him up." the wanderers were rather discouraged by this gloomy report, but dorothy said with a sigh: "if the only way to get home is to meet the gurgles, then we've got to meet 'em. they can't be worse than the wicked witch or the nome king." "but you must remember you had the scarecrow and the tin woodman to help you conquer those enemies," suggested the wizard. "just now, my dear, there is not a single warrior in your company." "oh, i guess zeb could fight if he had to. couldn't you, zeb?" asked the little girl. "perhaps; if i had to," answered zeb, doubtfully. "and you have the jointed sword that you chopped the veg'table sorcerer in two with," the girl said to the little man. "true," he replied; "and in my satchel are other useful things to fight with." "what the gargoyles most dread is a noise," said the man's voice. "our champion told me that when he shouted his battle-cry the creatures shuddered and drew back, hesitating to continue the combat. but they were in great numbers, and the champion could not shout much because he had to save his breath for fighting." "very good," said the wizard; "we can all yell better than we can fight, so we ought to defeat the gargoyles." "but tell me," said dorothy, "how did such a brave champion happen to let the bears eat him? and if he was invis'ble, and the bears invis'ble, who knows that they really ate him up?" "the champion had killed eleven bears in his time," returned the unseen man; "and we know this is true because when any creature is dead the invisible charm of the dama-fruit ceases to be active, and the slain one can be plainly seen by all eyes. when the champion killed a bear everyone could see it; and when the bears killed the champion we all saw several pieces of him scattered about, which of course disappeared again when the bears devoured them." they now bade farewell to the kind but unseen people of the cottage, and after the man had called their attention to a high, pyramid-shaped mountain on the opposite side of the valley, and told them how to travel in order to reach it, they again started upon their journey. they followed the course of a broad stream and passed several more pretty cottages; but of course they saw no one, nor did any one speak to them. fruits and flowers grew plentifully all about, and there were many of the delicious damas that the people of voe were so fond of. about noon they stopped to allow jim to rest in the shade of a pretty orchard, and while they plucked and ate some of the cherries and plums that grew there a soft voice suddenly said to them: "there are bears near by. be careful." the wizard got out his sword at once, and zeb grabbed the horse-whip. dorothy climbed into the buggy, although jim had been unharnessed from it and was grazing some distance away. the owner of the unseen voice laughed lightly and said: "you cannot escape the bears that way." "how _can_ we 'scape?" asked dorothy, nervously, for an unseen danger is always the hardest to face. "you must take to the river," was the reply. "the bears will not venture upon the water." "but we would be drowned!" exclaimed the girl. "oh, there is no need of that," said the voice, which from its gentle tones seemed to belong to a young girl. "you are strangers in the valley of voe, and do not seem to know our ways; so i will try to save you." the next moment a broad-leaved plant was jerked from the ground where it grew and held suspended in the air before the wizard. [illustration: escaping the invisible bears.] "sir," said the voice, "you must rub these leaves upon the soles of all your feet, and then you will be able to walk upon the water without sinking below the surface. it is a secret the bears do not know, and we people of voe usually walk upon the water when we travel, and so escape our enemies." "thank you!" cried the wizard, joyfully, and at once rubbed a leaf upon the soles of dorothy's shoes and then upon his own. the girl took a leaf and rubbed it upon the kitten's paws, and the rest of the plant was handed to zeb, who, after applying it to his own feet, carefully rubbed it upon all four of jim's hoofs and then upon the tires of the buggy-wheels. he had nearly finished this last task when a low growling was suddenly heard and the horse began to jump around and kick viciously with his heels. "quick! to the water, or you are lost!" cried their unseen friend, and without hesitation the wizard drew the buggy down the bank and out upon the broad river, for dorothy was still seated in it with eureka in her arms. they did not sink at all, owing to the virtues of the strange plant they had used, and when the buggy was in the middle of the stream the wizard returned to the bank to assist zeb and jim. the horse was plunging madly about, and two or three deep gashes appeared upon its flanks, from which the blood flowed freely. "run for the river!" shouted the wizard, and jim quickly freed himself from his unseen tormenters by a few vicious kicks and then obeyed. as soon as he trotted out upon the surface of the river he found himself safe from pursuit, and zeb was already running across the water toward dorothy. as the little wizard turned to follow them he felt a hot breath against his cheek and heard a low, fierce growl. at once he began stabbing at the air with his sword, and he knew that he had struck some substance because when he drew back the blade it was dripping with blood. the third time that he thrust out the weapon there was a loud roar and a fall, and suddenly at his feet appeared the form of a great red bear, which was nearly as big as the horse and much stronger and fiercer. the beast was quite dead from the sword thrusts, and after a glance at its terrible claws and sharp teeth the little man turned in a panic and rushed out upon the water, for other menacing growls told him more bears were near. on the river, however, the adventurers seemed to be perfectly safe. dorothy and the buggy had floated slowly down stream with the current of the water, and the others made haste to join her. the wizard opened his satchel and got out some sticking-plaster with which he mended the cuts jim had received from the claws of the bears. "i think we'd better stick to the river, after this," said dorothy. "if our unknown friend hadn't warned us, and told us what to do, we would all be dead by this time." "that is true," agreed the wizard, "and as the river seems to be flowing in the direction of the pyramid mountain it will be the easiest way for us to travel." zeb hitched jim to the buggy again, and the horse trotted along and drew them rapidly over the smooth water. the kitten was at first dreadfully afraid of getting wet, but dorothy let her down and soon eureka was frisking along beside the buggy without being scared a bit. once a little fish swam too near the surface, and the kitten grabbed it in her mouth and ate it up as quick as a wink; but dorothy cautioned her to be careful what she ate in this valley of enchantments, and no more fishes were careless enough to swim within reach. after a journey of several hours they came to a point where the river curved, and they found they must cross a mile or so of the valley before they came to the pyramid mountain. there were few houses in this part, and few orchards or flowers; so our friends feared they might encounter more of the savage bears, which they had learned to dread with all their hearts. "you'll have to make a dash, jim," said the wizard, "and run as fast as you can go." "all right," answered the horse; "i'll do my best. but you must remember i'm old, and my dashing days are past and gone." all three got into the buggy and zeb picked up the reins, though jim needed no guidance of any sort. the horse was still smarting from the sharp claws of the invisible bears, and as soon as he was on land and headed toward the mountain the thought that more of those fearsome creatures might be near acted as a spur and sent him galloping along in a way that made dorothy catch her breath. then zeb, in a spirit of mischief, uttered a growl like that of the bears, and jim pricked up his ears and fairly flew. his boney legs moved so fast they could scarcely be seen, and the wizard clung fast to the seat and yelled "whoa!" at the top of his voice. "i--i'm 'fraid he's--he's running away!" gasped dorothy. "i _know_ he is," said zeb; "but no bear can catch him if he keeps up that gait--and the harness or the buggy don't break." jim did not make a mile a minute; but almost before they were aware of it he drew up at the foot of the mountain, so suddenly that the wizard and zeb both sailed over the dashboard and landed in the soft grass--where they rolled over several times before they stopped. dorothy nearly went with them, but she was holding fast to the iron rail of the seat, and that saved her. she squeezed the kitten, though, until it screeched; and then the old cab-horse made several curious sounds that led the little girl to suspect he was laughing at them all. [illustration] chapter . the braided man of pyramid mountain the mountain before them was shaped like a cone and was so tall that its point was lost in the clouds. directly facing the place where jim had stopped was an arched opening leading to a broad stairway. the stairs were cut in the rock inside the mountain, and they were broad and not very steep, because they circled around like a cork-screw, and at the arched opening where the flight began the circle was quite big. at the foot of the stairs was a sign reading: warning. these steps lead to the land of the gargoyles. danger! keep out. "i wonder how jim is ever going to draw the buggy up so many stairs," said dorothy, gravely. "no trouble at all," declared the horse, with a contemptuous neigh. "still, i don't care to drag any passengers. you'll all have to walk." "suppose the stairs get steeper?" suggested zeb, doubtfully. "then you'll have to boost the buggy-wheels, that's all," answered jim. "we'll try it, anyway," said the wizard. "it's the only way to get out of the valley of voe." so they began to ascend the stairs, dorothy and the wizard first, jim next, drawing the buggy, and then zeb to watch that nothing happened to the harness. the light was dim, and soon they mounted into total darkness, so that the wizard was obliged to get out his lanterns to light the way. but this enabled them to proceed steadily until they came to a landing where there was a rift in the side of the mountain that let in both light and air. looking through this opening they could see the valley of voe lying far below them, the cottages seeming like toy houses from that distance. after resting a few moments they resumed their climb, and still the stairs were broad and low enough for jim to draw the buggy easily after him. the old horse panted a little, and had to stop often to get his breath. at such times they were all glad to wait for him, for continually climbing up stairs is sure to make one's legs ache. they wound about, always going upward, for some time. the lights from the lanterns dimly showed the way, but it was a gloomy journey, and they were pleased when a broad streak of light ahead assured them they were coming to a second landing. here one side of the mountain had a great hole in it, like the mouth of a cavern, and the stairs stopped at the near edge of the floor and commenced ascending again at the opposite edge. the opening in the mountain was on the side opposite to the valley of voe, and our travellers looked out upon a strange scene. below them was a vast space, at the bottom of which was a black sea with rolling billows, through which little tongues of flame constantly shot up. just above them, and almost on a level with their platform, were banks of rolling clouds which constantly shifted position and changed color. the blues and greys were very beautiful, and dorothy noticed that on the cloud banks sat or reclined fleecy, shadowy forms of beautiful beings who must have been the cloud fairies. mortals who stand upon the earth and look up at the sky cannot often distinguish these forms, but our friends were now so near to the clouds that they observed the dainty fairies very clearly. "are they real?" asked zeb, in an awed voice. "of course," replied dorothy, softly. "they are the cloud fairies." "they seem like open-work," remarked the boy, gazing intently. "if i should squeeze one, there wouldn't be anything left of it." in the open space between the clouds and the black, bubbling sea far beneath, could be seen an occasional strange bird winging its way swiftly through the air. these birds were of enormous size, and reminded zeb of the rocs he had read about in the arabian nights. they had fierce eyes and sharp talons and beaks, and the children hoped none of them would venture into the cavern. "well, i declare!" suddenly exclaimed the little wizard. "what in the world is this?" they turned around and found a man standing on the floor in the center of the cave, who bowed very politely when he saw he had attracted their attention. he was a very old man, bent nearly double; but the queerest thing about him was his white hair and beard. these were so long that they reached to his feet, and both the hair and the beard were carefully plaited into many braids, and the end of each braid fastened with a bow of colored ribbon. "where did you come from?" asked dorothy, wonderingly. "no place at all," answered the man with the braids; "that is, not recently. once i lived on top the earth, but for many years i have had my factory in this spot--half way up pyramid mountain." "are we only half way up?" enquired the boy, in a discouraged tone. "i believe so, my lad," replied the braided man. "but as i have never been in either direction, down or up, since i arrived, i cannot be positive whether it is exactly half way or not." "have you a factory in this place?" asked the wizard, who had been examining the strange personage carefully. "to be sure," said the other. "i am a great inventor, you must know, and i manufacture my products in this lonely spot." "what are your products?" enquired the wizard. "well, i make assorted flutters for flags and bunting, and a superior grade of rustles for ladies' silk gowns." "i thought so," said the wizard, with a sigh. "may we examine some of these articles?" [illustration: the cloud fairies.] [illustration: the braided man.] "yes, indeed; come into my shop, please," and the braided man turned and led the way into a smaller cave, where he evidently lived. here, on a broad shelf, were several card-board boxes of various sizes, each tied with cotton cord. "this," said the man, taking up a box and handling it gently, "contains twelve dozen rustles--enough to last any lady a year. will you buy it, my dear?" he asked, addressing dorothy. "my gown isn't silk," she said, smiling. "never mind. when you open the box the rustles will escape, whether you are wearing a silk dress or not," said the man, seriously. then he picked up another box. "in this," he continued, "are many assorted flutters. they are invaluable to make flags flutter on a still day, when there is no wind. you, sir," turning to the wizard, "ought to have this assortment. once you have tried my goods i am sure you will never be without them." "i have no money with me," said the wizard, evasively. "i do not want money," returned the braided man, "for i could not spend it in this deserted place if i had it. but i would like very much a blue hair-ribbon. you will notice my braids are tied with yellow, pink, brown, red, green, white and black; but i have no blue ribbons." "i'll get you one!" cried dorothy, who was sorry for the poor man; so she ran back to the buggy and took from her suit-case a pretty blue ribbon. it did her good to see how the braided man's eyes sparkled when he received this treasure. "you have made me very, very happy, my dear!" he exclaimed; and then he insisted on the wizard taking the box of flutters and the little girl accepting the box of rustles. "you may need them, some time," he said, "and there is really no use in my manufacturing these things unless somebody uses them." "why did you leave the surface of the earth?" enquired the wizard. "i could not help it. it is a sad story, but if you will try to restrain your tears i will tell you about it. on earth i was a manufacturer of imported holes for american swiss cheese, and i will acknowledge that i supplied a superior article, which was in great demand. also i made pores for porous plasters and high-grade holes for doughnuts and buttons. finally i invented a new adjustable post-hole, which i thought would make my fortune. i manufactured a large quantity of these post-holes, and having no room in which to store them i set them all end to end and put the top one in the ground. that made an extraordinary long hole, as you may imagine, and reached far down into the earth; and, as i leaned over it to try to see to the bottom, i lost my balance and tumbled in. unfortunately, the hole led directly into the vast space you see outside this mountain; but i managed to catch a point of rock that projected from this cavern, and so saved myself from tumbling headlong into the black waves beneath, where the tongues of flame that dart out would certainly have consumed me. here, then, i made my home; and although it is a lonely place i amuse myself making rustles and flutters, and so get along very nicely." when the braided man had completed this strange tale dorothy nearly laughed, because it was all so absurd; but the wizard tapped his forehead significantly, to indicate that he thought the poor man was crazy. so they politely bade him good day, and went back to the outer cavern to resume their journey. [illustration] chapter . they meet the wooden gargoyles another breathless climb brought our adventurers to a third landing where there was a rift in the mountain. on peering out all they could see was rolling banks of clouds, so thick that they obscured all else. but the travellers were obliged to rest, and while they were sitting on the rocky floor the wizard felt in his pocket and brought out the nine tiny piglets. to his delight they were now plainly visible, which proved that they had passed beyond the influence of the magical valley of voe. "why, we can see each other again!" cried one, joyfully. "yes," sighed eureka; "and i also can see you again, and the sight makes me dreadfully hungry. please, mr. wizard, may i eat just one of the fat little piglets? you'd never miss _one_ of them, i'm sure!" "what a horrid, savage beast!" exclaimed a piglet; "and after we've been such good friends, too, and played with one another!" "when i'm not hungry, i love to play with you all," said the kitten, demurely; "but when my stomach is empty it seems that nothing would fill it so nicely as a fat piglet." "and we trusted you so!" said another of the nine, reproachfully. "and thought you were respectable!" said another. "it seems we were mistaken," declared a third, looking at the kitten timorously, "no one with such murderous desires should belong to our party, i'm sure." "you see, eureka," remarked dorothy, reprovingly, "you are making yourself disliked. there are certain things proper for a kitten to eat; but i never heard of a kitten eating a pig, under _any_ cir'stances." "did you ever see such little pigs before?" asked the kitten. "they are no bigger than mice, and i'm sure mice are proper for me to eat." "it isn't the bigness, dear; its the variety," replied the girl. "these are mr. wizard's pets, just as you are my pet, and it wouldn't be any more proper for you to eat them than it would be for jim to eat you." "and that's just what i shall do if you don't let those little balls of pork alone," said jim, glaring at the kitten with his round, big eyes. "if you injure any one of them i'll chew you up instantly." the kitten looked at the horse thoughtfully, as if trying to decide whether he meant it or not. "in that case," she said, "i'll leave them alone. you haven't many teeth left, jim, but the few you have are sharp enough to make me shudder. so the piglets will be perfectly safe, hereafter, as far as i am concerned." "that is right, eureka," remarked the wizard, earnestly. "let us all be a happy family and love one another." eureka yawned and stretched herself. "i've always loved the piglets," she said; "but they don't love me." "no one can love a person he's afraid of," asserted dorothy. "if you behave, and don't scare the little pigs, i'm sure they'll grow very fond of you." the wizard now put the nine tiny ones back into his pocket and the journey was resumed. "we must be pretty near the top, now," said the boy, as they climbed wearily up the dark, winding stairway. "the country of the gurgles can't be far from the top of the earth," remarked dorothy. "it isn't very nice down here. i'd like to get home again, i'm sure." no one replied to this, because they found they needed all their breath for the climb. the stairs had become narrower and zeb and the wizard often had to help jim pull the buggy from one step to another, or keep it from jamming against the rocky walls. at last, however, a dim light appeared ahead of them, which grew clearer and stronger as they advanced. "thank goodness we're nearly there!" panted the little wizard. jim, who was in advance, saw the last stair before him and stuck his head above the rocky sides of the stairway. then he halted, ducked down and began to back up, so that he nearly fell with the buggy onto the others. "let's go down again!" he said, in his hoarse voice. "nonsense!" snapped the tired wizard. "what's the matter with you, old man?" "everything," grumbled the horse. "i've taken a look at this place, and it's no fit country for real creatures to go to. everything's dead, up there--no flesh or blood or growing thing anywhere." "never mind; we can't turn back," said dorothy; "and we don't intend to stay there, anyhow." "it's dangerous," growled jim, in a stubborn tone. "see here, my good steed," broke in the wizard, "little dorothy and i have been in many queer countries in our travels, and always escaped without harm. we've even been to the marvelous land of oz--haven't we, dorothy?--so we don't much care what the country of the gargoyles is like. go ahead, jim, and whatever happens we'll make the best of it." "all right," answered the horse; "this is your excursion, and not mine; so if you get into trouble don't blame me." with this speech he bent forward and dragged the buggy up the remaining steps. the others followed and soon they were all standing upon a broad platform and gazing at the most curious and startling sight their eyes had ever beheld. "the country of the gargoyles is all wooden!" exclaimed zeb; and so it was. the ground was sawdust and the pebbles scattered around were hard knots from trees, worn smooth in course of time. there were odd wooden houses, with carved wooden flowers in the front yards. the tree-trunks were of coarse wood, but the leaves of the trees were shavings. the patches of grass were splinters of wood, and where neither grass nor sawdust showed was a solid wooden flooring. wooden birds fluttered among the trees and wooden cows were browsing upon the wooden grass; but the most amazing things of all were the wooden people--the creatures known as gargoyles. these were very numerous, for the palace was thickly inhabited, and a large group of the queer people clustered near, gazing sharply upon the strangers who had emerged from the long spiral stairway. the gargoyles were very small of stature, being less than three feet in height. their bodies were round, their legs short and thick and their arms extraordinarily long and stout. their heads were too big for their bodies and their faces were decidedly ugly to look upon. some had long, curved noses and chins, small eyes and wide, grinning mouths. others had flat noses, protruding eyes, and ears that were shaped like those of an elephant. there were many types, indeed, scarcely two being alike; but all were equally disagreeable in appearance. the tops of their heads had no hair, but were carved into a variety of fantastic shapes, some having a row of points or balls around the top, other designs resembling flowers or vegetables, and still others having squares that looked like waffles cut criss-cross on their heads. they all wore short wooden wings which were fastened to their wooden bodies by means of wooden hinges with wooden screws, and with these wings they flew swiftly and noiselessly here and there, their legs being of little use to them. this noiseless motion was one of the most peculiar things about the gargoyles. they made no sounds at all, either in flying or trying to speak, and they conversed mainly by means of quick signals made with their wooden fingers or lips. neither was there any sound to be heard anywhere throughout the wooden country. the birds did not sing, nor did the cows moo; yet there was more than ordinary activity everywhere. the group of these queer creatures which was discovered clustered near the stairs at first remained staring and motionless, glaring with evil eyes at the intruders who had so suddenly appeared in their land. in turn the wizard and the children, the horse and the kitten, examined the gargoyles with the same silent attention. "there's going to be trouble, i'm sure," remarked the horse. "unhitch those tugs, zeb, and set me free from the buggy, so i can fight comfortably." "jim's right," sighed the wizard. "there's going to be trouble, and my sword isn't stout enough to cut up those wooden bodies--so i shall have to get out my revolvers." he got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to look at. "what harm can the gurgles do?" asked dorothy. "they have no weapons to hurt us with." "each of their arms is a wooden club," answered the little man, "and i'm sure the creatures mean mischief, by the looks of their eyes. even these revolvers can merely succeed in damaging a few of their wooden bodies, and after that we will be at their mercy." "but why fight at all, in that case?" asked the girl. "so i may die with a clear conscience," returned the wizard, gravely. "it's every man's duty to do the best he knows how; and i'm going to do it." "wish i had an axe," said zeb, who by now had unhitched the horse. "if we had known we were coming we might have brought along several other useful things," responded the wizard. "but we dropped into this adventure rather unexpectedly." the gargoyles had backed away a distance when they heard the sound of talking, for although our friends had spoken in low tones their words seemed loud in the silence surrounding them. but as soon as the conversation ceased the grinning, ugly creatures arose in a flock and flew swiftly toward the strangers, their long arms stretched out before them like the bowsprits of a fleet of sail-boats. the horse had especially attracted their notice, because it was the biggest and strangest creature they had ever seen; so it became the center of their first attack. but jim was ready for them, and when he saw them coming he turned his heels toward them and began kicking out as hard as he could. crack! crash! bang! went his iron-shod hoofs against the wooden bodies of the gargoyles, and they were battered right and left with such force that they scattered like straws in the wind. but the noise and clatter seemed as dreadful to them as jim's heels, for all who were able swiftly turned and flew away to a great distance. the others picked themselves up from the ground one by one and quickly rejoined their fellows, so for a moment the horse thought he had won the fight with ease. but the wizard was not so confident. "those wooden things are impossible to hurt," he said, "and all the damage jim has done to them is to knock a few splinters from their noses and ears. that cannot make them look any uglier, i'm sure, and it is my opinion they will soon renew the attack." "what made them fly away?" asked dorothy. "the noise, of course. don't you remember how the champion escaped them by shouting his battle-cry?" "suppose we escape down the stairs, too," suggested the boy. "we have time, just now, and i'd rather face the invis'ble bears than those wooden imps." "no," returned dorothy, stoutly, "it won't do to go back, for then we would never get home. let's fight it out." "that is what i advise," said the wizard. "they haven't defeated us yet, and jim is worth a whole army." but the gargoyles were clever enough not to attack the horse the next time. they advanced in a great swarm, having been joined by many more of their kind, and they flew straight over jim's head to where the others were standing. the wizard raised one of his revolvers and fired into the throng of his enemies, and the shot resounded like a clap of thunder in that silent place. some of the wooden beings fell flat upon the ground, where they quivered and trembled in every limb; but most of them managed to wheel and escape again to a distance. zeb ran and picked up one of the gargoyles that lay nearest to him. the top of its head was carved into a crown and the wizard's bullet had struck it exactly in the left eye, which was a hard wooden knot. half of the bullet stuck in the wood and half stuck out, so it had been the jar and the sudden noise that had knocked the creature down, more than the fact that it was really hurt. before this crowned gargoyle had recovered himself zeb had wound a strap several times around its body, confining its wings and arms so that it could not move. then, having tied the wooden creature securely, the boy buckled the strap and tossed his prisoner into the buggy. by that time the others had all retired. [illustration] chapter . a wonderful escape for a while the enemy hesitated to renew the attack. then a few of them advanced until another shot from the wizard's revolver made them retreat. "that's fine," said zeb. "we've got 'em on the run now, sure enough." "but only for a time," replied the wizard, shaking his head gloomily. "these revolvers are good for six shots each, but when those are gone we shall be helpless." the gargoyles seemed to realize this, for they sent a few of their band time after time to attack the strangers and draw the fire from the little man's revolvers. in this way none of them was shocked by the dreadful report more than once, for the main band kept far away and each time a new company was sent into the battle. when the wizard had fired all of his twelve bullets he had caused no damage to the enemy except to stun a few by the noise, and so he was no nearer to victory than in the beginning of the fray. [illustration: the wizard fired into the throng.] "what shall we do now?" asked dorothy, anxiously. "let's yell--all together," said zeb. "and fight at the same time," added the wizard. "we will get near jim, so that he can help us, and each one must take some weapon and do the best he can. i'll use my sword, although it isn't much account in this affair. dorothy must take her parasol and open it suddenly when the wooden folks attack her. i haven't anything for you, zeb." "i'll use the king," said the boy, and pulled his prisoner out of the buggy. the bound gargoyle's arms extended far out beyond its head, so by grasping its wrists zeb found the king made a very good club. the boy was strong for one of his years, having always worked upon a farm; so he was likely to prove more dangerous to the enemy than the wizard. when the next company of gargoyles advanced, our adventurers began yelling as if they had gone mad. even the kitten gave a dreadfully shrill scream and at the same time jim the cab-horse neighed loudly. this daunted the enemy for a time, but the defenders were soon out of breath. perceiving this, as well as the fact that there were no more of the awful "bangs" to come from the revolvers, the gargoyles advanced in a swarm as thick as bees, so that the air was filled with them. dorothy squatted upon the ground and put up her parasol, which nearly covered her and proved a great protection. the wizard's sword-blade snapped into a dozen pieces at the first blow he struck against the wooden people. zeb pounded away with the gargoyle he was using as a club until he had knocked down dozens of foes; but at the last they clustered so thickly about him that he no longer had room in which to swing his arms. the horse performed some wonderful kicking and even eureka assisted when she leaped bodily upon the gargoyles and scratched and bit at them like a wild-cat. but all this bravery amounted to nothing at all. the wooden things wound their long arms around zeb and the wizard and held them fast. dorothy was captured in the same way, and numbers of the gargoyles clung to jim's legs, so weighting him down that the poor beast was helpless. eureka made a desperate dash to escape and scampered along the ground like a streak; but a grinning gargoyle flew after her and grabbed her before she had gone very far. all of them expected nothing less than instant death; but to their surprise the wooden creatures flew into the air with them and bore them far away, over miles and miles of wooden country, until they came to a wooden city. the houses of this city had many corners, being square and six-sided and eight-sided. they were tower-like in shape and the best of them seemed old and weather-worn; yet all were strong and substantial. to one of these houses which had neither doors nor windows, but only one broad opening far up underneath the roof, the prisoners were brought by their captors. the gargoyles roughly pushed them into the opening, where there was a platform, and then flew away and left them. as they had no wings the strangers could not fly away, and if they jumped down from such a height they would surely be killed. the creatures had sense enough to reason that way, and the only mistake they made was in supposing the earth people were unable to overcome such ordinary difficulties. jim was brought with the others, although it took a good many gargoyles to carry the big beast through the air and land him on the high platform, and the buggy was thrust in after him because it belonged to the party and the wooden folks had no idea what it was used for or whether it was alive or not. when eureka's captor had thrown the kitten after the others the last gargoyle silently disappeared, leaving our friends to breathe freely once more. "what an awful fight!" said dorothy, catching her breath in little gasps. "oh, i don't know," purred eureka, smoothing her ruffled fur with her paw; "we didn't manage to hurt anybody, and nobody managed to hurt us." "thank goodness we are together again, even if we are prisoners," sighed the little girl. "i wonder why they didn't kill us on the spot," remarked zeb, who had lost his king in the struggle. "they are probably keeping us for some ceremony," the wizard answered, reflectively; "but there is no doubt they intend to kill us as dead as possible in a short time." "as dead as poss'ble would be pretty dead, wouldn't it?" asked dorothy. "yes, my dear. but we have no need to worry about that just now. let us examine our prison and see what it is like." the space underneath the roof, where they stood, permitted them to see on all sides of the tall building, and they looked with much curiosity at the city spread out beneath them. everything visible was made of wood, and the scene seemed stiff and extremely unnatural. from their platform a stair descended into the house, and the children and the wizard explored it after lighting a lantern to show them the way. several stories of empty rooms rewarded their search, but nothing more; so after a time they came back to the platform again. had there been any doors or windows in the lower rooms, or had not the boards of the house been so thick and stout, escape would have been easy; but to remain down below was like being in a cellar or the hold of a ship, and they did not like the darkness or the damp smell. in this country, as in all others they had visited underneath the earth's surface, there was no night, a constant and strong light coming from some unknown source. looking out, they could see into some of the houses near them, where there were open windows in abundance, and were able to mark the forms of the wooden gargoyles moving about in their dwellings. "this seems to be their time of rest," observed the wizard. "all people need rest, even if they are made of wood, and as there is no night here they select a certain time of the day in which to sleep or doze." "i feel sleepy myself," remarked zeb, yawning. "why, where's eureka?" cried dorothy, suddenly. they all looked around, but the kitten was no place to be seen. "she's gone out for a walk," said jim, gruffly. "where? on the roof?" asked the girl. "no; she just dug her claws into the wood and climbed down the sides of this house to the ground." "she couldn't climb _down_, jim," said dorothy. "to climb means to go up." "who said so?" demanded the horse. "my school-teacher said so; and she knows a lot, jim." "to 'climb down' is sometimes used as a figure of speech," remarked the wizard. "well, this was a figure of a cat," said jim, "and she _went_ down, anyhow, whether she climbed or crept." "dear me! how careless eureka is," exclaimed the girl, much distressed. "the gurgles will get her, sure!" "ha, ha!" chuckled the old cab-horse; "they're not 'gurgles,' little maid; they're gargoyles." "never mind; they'll get eureka, whatever they're called." "no they won't," said the voice of the kitten, and eureka herself crawled over the edge of the platform and sat down quietly upon the floor. "wherever have you been, eureka?" asked dorothy, sternly. "watching the wooden folks. they're too funny for anything, dorothy. just now they are all going to bed, and--what do you think?--they unhook the hinges of their wings and put them in a corner until they wake up again." "what, the hinges?" "no; the wings." "that," said zeb, "explains why this house is used by them for a prison. if any of the gargoyles act badly, and have to be put in jail, they are brought here and their wings unhooked and taken away from them until they promise to be good." the wizard had listened intently to what eureka had said. "i wish we had some of those loose wings," he said. "could we fly with them?" asked dorothy. "i think so. if the gargoyles can unhook the wings then the power to fly lies in the wings themselves, and not in the wooden bodies of the people who wear them. so, if we had the wings, we could probably fly as well as they do--at least while we are in their country and under the spell of its magic." "but how would it help us to be able to fly?" questioned the girl. "come here," said the little man, and took her to one of the corners of the building. "do you see that big rock standing on the hillside yonder?" he continued, pointing with his finger. "yes; it's a good way off, but i can see it," she replied. "well, inside that rock, which reaches up into the clouds, is an archway very much like the one we entered when we climbed the spiral stairway from the valley of voe. i'll get my spy-glass, and then you can see it more plainly." he fetched a small but powerful telescope, which had been in his satchel, and by its aid the little girl clearly saw the opening. "where does it lead to?" she asked. "that i cannot tell," said the wizard; "but we cannot now be far below the earth's surface, and that entrance may lead to another stairway that will bring us on top of our world again, where we belong. so, if we had the wings, and could escape the gargoyles, we might fly to that rock and be saved." "i'll get you the wings," said zeb, who had thoughtfully listened to all this. "that is, if the kitten will show me where they are." "but how can you get down?" enquired the girl, wonderingly. for answer zeb began to unfasten jim's harness, strap by strap, and to buckle one piece to another until he had made a long leather strip that would reach to the ground. [illustration: the fight with the gargoyles.] "i can climb down that, all right," he said. "no you can't," remarked jim, with a twinkle in his round eyes. "you may _go_ down, but you can only _climb_ up." "well, i'll climb up when i get back, then," said the boy, with a laugh. "now, eureka, you'll have to show me the way to those wings." "you must be very quiet," warned the kitten; "for if you make the least noise the gargoyles will wake up. they can hear a pin drop." "i'm not going to drop a pin," said zeb. he had fastened one end of the strap to a wheel of the buggy, and now he let the line dangle over the side of the house. "be careful," cautioned dorothy, earnestly. "i will," said the boy, and let himself slide over the edge. the girl and the wizard leaned over and watched zeb work his way carefully downward, hand over hand, until he stood upon the ground below. eureka clung with her claws to the wooden side of the house and let herself down easily. then together they crept away to enter the low doorway of a neighboring dwelling. the watchers waited in breathless suspense until the boy again appeared, his arms now full of the wooden wings. when he came to where the strap was hanging he tied the wings all in a bunch to the end of the line, and the wizard drew them up. then the line was let down again for zeb to climb up by. eureka quickly followed him, and soon they were all standing together upon the platform, with eight of the much prized wooden wings beside them. the boy was no longer sleepy, but full of energy and excitement. he put the harness together again and hitched jim to the buggy. then, with the wizard's help, he tried to fasten some of the wings to the old cab-horse. this was no easy task, because half of each one of the hinges of the wings was missing, it being still fastened to the body of the gargoyle who had used it. however, the wizard went once more to his satchel--which seemed to contain a surprising variety of odds and ends--and brought out a spool of strong wire, by means of which they managed to fasten four of the wings to jim's harness, two near his head and two near his tail. they were a bit wiggley, but secure enough if only the harness held together. the other four wings were then fastened to the buggy, two on each side, for the buggy must bear the weight of the children and the wizard as it flew through the air. [illustration: jim fluttered and floundered through the air.] these preparations had not consumed a great deal of time, but the sleeping gargoyles were beginning to wake up and move around, and soon some of them would be hunting for their missing wings. so the prisoners resolved to leave their prison at once. they mounted into the buggy, dorothy holding eureka safe in her lap. the girl sat in the middle of the seat, with zeb and the wizard on each side of her. when all was ready the boy shook the reins and said: "fly away, jim!" "which wings must i flop first?" asked the cab-horse, undecidedly. "flop them all together," suggested the wizard. "some of them are crooked," objected the horse. "never mind; we will steer with the wings on the buggy," said zeb. "just you light out and make for that rock, jim; and don't waste any time about it, either." so the horse gave a groan, flopped its four wings all together, and flew away from the platform. dorothy was a little anxious about the success of their trip, for the way jim arched his long neck and spread out his bony legs as he fluttered and floundered through the air was enough to make anybody nervous. he groaned, too, as if frightened, and the wings creaked dreadfully because the wizard had forgotten to oil them; but they kept fairly good time with the wings of the buggy, so that they made excellent progress from the start. the only thing that anyone could complain of with justice was the fact that they wobbled first up and then down, as if the road were rocky instead of being as smooth as the air could make it. the main point, however, was that they flew, and flew swiftly, if a bit unevenly, toward the rock for which they had headed. some of the gargoyles saw them, presently, and lost no time in collecting a band to pursue the escaping prisoners; so that when dorothy happened to look back she saw them coming in a great cloud that almost darkened the sky. [illustration] chapter . the den of the dragonettes our friends had a good start and were able to maintain it, for with their eight wings they could go just as fast as could the gargoyles. all the way to the great rock the wooden people followed them, and when jim finally alighted at the mouth of the cavern the pursuers were still some distance away. "but, i'm afraid they'll catch us yet," said dorothy, greatly excited. "no; we must stop them," declared the wizard. "quick zeb, help me pull off these wooden wings!" they tore off the wings, for which they had no further use, and the wizard piled them in a heap just outside the entrance to the cavern. then he poured over them all the kerosene oil that was left in his oil-can, and lighting a match set fire to the pile. the flames leaped up at once and the bonfire began to smoke and roar and crackle just as the great army of wooden gargoyles arrived. the creatures drew back at once, being filled with fear and horror; for such a dreadful thing as a fire they had never before known in all the history of their wooden land. inside the archway were several doors, leading to different rooms built into the mountain, and zeb and the wizard lifted these wooden doors from their hinges and tossed them all on the flames. "that will prove a barrier for some time to come," said the little man, smiling pleasantly all over his wrinkled face at the success of their stratagem. "perhaps the flames will set fire to all that miserable wooden country, and if it does the loss will be very small and the gargoyles never will be missed. but come, my children; let us explore the mountain and discover which way we must go in order to escape from this cavern, which is getting to be almost as hot as a bake-oven." to their disappointment there was within this mountain no regular flight of steps by means of which they could mount to the earth's surface. a sort of inclined tunnel led upward for a way, and they found the floor of it both rough and steep. then a sudden turn brought them to a narrow gallery where the buggy could not pass. this delayed and bothered them for a while, because they did not wish to leave the buggy behind them. it carried their baggage and was useful to ride in wherever there were good roads, and since it had accompanied them so far in their travels they felt it their duty to preserve it. so zeb and the wizard set to work and took off the wheels and the top, and then they put the buggy edgewise, so it would take up the smallest space. in this position they managed, with the aid of the patient cab-horse, to drag the vehicle through the narrow part of the passage. it was not a great distance, fortunately, and when the path grew broader they put the buggy together again and proceeded more comfortably. but the road was nothing more than a series of rifts or cracks in the mountain, and it went zig-zag in every direction, slanting first up and then down until they were puzzled as to whether they were any nearer to the top of the earth than when they had started, hours before. "anyhow," said dorothy, "we've 'scaped those awful gurgles, and that's _one_ comfort!" [illustration: "why it's a dragon!"] "probably the gargoyles are still busy trying to put out the fire," returned the wizard. "but even if they succeeded in doing that it would be very difficult for them to fly amongst these rocks; so i am sure we need fear them no longer." once in a while they would come to a deep crack in the floor, which made the way quite dangerous; but there was still enough oil in the lanterns to give them light, and the cracks were not so wide but that they were able to jump over them. sometimes they had to climb over heaps of loose rock, where jim could scarcely drag the buggy. at such times dorothy, zeb and the wizard all pushed behind, and lifted the wheels over the roughest places; so they managed, by dint of hard work, to keep going. but the little party was both weary and discouraged when at last, on turning a sharp corner, the wanderers found themselves in a vast cave arching high over their heads and having a smooth, level floor. the cave was circular in shape, and all around its edge, near to the ground, appeared groups of dull yellow lights, two of them being always side by side. these were motionless at first, but soon began to flicker more brightly and to sway slowly from side to side and then up and down. "what sort of a place is this?" asked the boy, trying to see more clearly through the gloom. "i cannot imagine, i'm sure," answered the wizard, also peering about. "woogh!" snarled eureka, arching her back until her hair stood straight on end; "it's a den of alligators, or crocodiles, or some other dreadful creatures! don't you see their terrible eyes?" "eureka sees better in the dark than we can," whispered dorothy. "tell us, dear, what do the creatures look like?" she asked, addressing her pet. "i simply can't describe 'em," answered the kitten, shuddering. "their eyes are like pie-plates and their mouths like coal-scuttles. but their bodies don't seem very big." "where are they?" enquired the girl. "they are in little pockets all around the edge of this cavern. oh, dorothy--you can't imagine what horrid things they are! they're uglier than the gargoyles." "tut-tut! be careful how you criticise your neighbors," spoke a rasping voice near by. "as a matter of fact you are rather ugly-looking creatures yourselves, and i'm sure mother has often told us we were the loveliest and prettiest things in all the world." hearing these words our friends turned in the direction of the sound, and the wizard held his lanterns so that their light would flood one of the little pockets in the rock. "why, it's a dragon!" he exclaimed. "no," answered the owner of the big yellow eyes which were blinking at them so steadily; "you are wrong about that. we hope to grow to be dragons some day, but just now we're only dragonettes." "what's that?" asked dorothy, gazing fearfully at the great scaley head, the yawning mouth and the big eyes. "young dragons, of course; but we are not allowed to call ourselves real dragons until we get our full growth," was the reply. "the big dragons are very proud, and don't think children amount to much; but mother says that some day we will all be very powerful and important." "where is your mother?" asked the wizard, anxiously looking around. "she has gone up to the top of the earth to hunt for our dinner. if she has good luck she will bring us an elephant, or a brace of rhinoceri, or perhaps a few dozen people to stay our hunger." "oh; are you hungry?" enquired dorothy, drawing back. "very," said the dragonette, snapping its jaws. "and--and--do you eat people?" "to be sure, when we can get them. but they've been very scarce for a few years and we usually have to be content with elephants or buffaloes," answered the creature, in a regretful tone. "how old are you?" enquired zeb, who stared at the yellow eyes as if fascinated. "quite young, i grieve to say; and all of my brothers and sisters that you see here are practically my own age. if i remember rightly, we were sixty-six years old the day before yesterday." "but that isn't young!" cried dorothy, in amazement. "no?" drawled the dragonette; "it seems to me very babyish." "how old is your mother?" asked the girl. "mother's about two thousand years old; but she carelessly lost track of her age a few centuries ago and skipped several hundreds. she's a little fussy, you know, and afraid of growing old, being a widow and still in her prime." "i should think she would be," agreed dorothy. then, after a moment's thought, she asked: "are we friends or enemies? i mean, will you be good to us, or do you intend to eat us?" "as for that, we dragonettes would love to eat you, my child; but unfortunately mother has tied all our tails around the rocks at the back of our individual caves, so that we can not crawl out to get you. if you choose to come nearer we will make a mouthful of you in a wink; but unless you do you will remain quite safe." there was a regretful accent in the creature's voice, and at the words all the other dragonettes sighed dismally. dorothy felt relieved. presently she asked: "why did your mother tie your tails?" "oh, she is sometimes gone for several weeks on her hunting trips, and if we were not tied we would crawl all over the mountain and fight with each other and get into a lot of mischief. mother usually knows what she is about, but she made a mistake this time; for you are sure to escape us unless you come too near, and you probably won't do that." "no, indeed!" said the little girl. "we don't wish to be eaten by such awful beasts." "permit me to say," returned the dragonette, "that you are rather impolite to call us names, knowing that we cannot resent your insults. we consider ourselves very beautiful in appearance, for mother has told us so, and she knows. and we are of an excellent family and have a pedigree that i challenge any humans to equal, as it extends back about twenty thousand years, to the time of the famous green dragon of atlantis, who lived in a time when humans had not yet been created. can you match that pedigree, little girl?" "well," said dorothy, "i was born on a farm in kansas, and i guess that's being just as 'spectable and haughty as living in a cave with your tail tied to a rock. if it isn't i'll have to stand it, that's all." "tastes differ," murmured the dragonette, slowly drooping its scaley eyelids over its yellow eyes, until they looked like half-moons. being reassured by the fact that the creatures could not crawl out of their rock-pockets, the children and the wizard now took time to examine them more closely. the heads of the dragonettes were as big as barrels and covered with hard, greenish scales that glittered brightly under the light of the lanterns. their front legs, which grew just back of their heads, were also strong and big; but their bodies were smaller around than their heads, and dwindled away in a long line until their tails were slim as a shoe-string. dorothy thought, if it had taken them sixty-six years to grow to this size, that it would be fully a hundred years more before they could hope to call themselves dragons, and that seemed like a good while to wait to grow up. "it occurs to me," said the wizard, "that we ought to get out of this place before the mother dragon comes back." "don't hurry," called one of the dragonettes; "mother will be glad to meet you, i'm sure." "you may be right," replied the wizard, "but we're a little particular about associating with strangers. will you kindly tell us which way your mother went to get on top the earth?" "that is not a fair question to ask us," declared another dragonette. "for, if we told you truly, you might escape us altogether; and if we told you an untruth we would be naughty and deserve to be punished." "then," decided dorothy, "we must find our way out the best we can." they circled all around the cavern, keeping a good distance away from the blinking yellow eyes of the dragonettes, and presently discovered that there were two paths leading from the wall opposite to the place where they had entered. they selected one of these at a venture and hurried along it as fast as they could go, for they had no idea when the mother dragon would be back and were very anxious not to make her acquaintance. [illustration] chapter . ozma uses the magic belt for a considerable distance the way led straight upward in a gentle incline, and the wanderers made such good progress that they grew hopeful and eager, thinking they might see sunshine at any minute. but at length they came unexpectedly upon a huge rock that shut off the passage and blocked them from proceeding a single step farther. this rock was separate from the rest of the mountain and was in motion, turning slowly around and around as if upon a pivot. when first they came to it there was a solid wall before them; but presently it revolved until there was exposed a wide, smooth path across it to the other side. this appeared so unexpectedly that they were unprepared to take advantage of it at first, and allowed the rocky wall to swing around again before they had decided to pass over. but they knew now that there was a means of escape and so waited patiently until the path appeared for the second time. the children and the wizard rushed across the moving rock and sprang into the passage beyond, landing safely though a little out of breath. jim the cab-horse came last, and the rocky wall almost caught him; for just as he leaped to the floor of the further passage the wall swung across it and a loose stone that the buggy wheels knocked against fell into the narrow crack where the rock turned, and became wedged there. they heard a crunching, grinding sound, a loud snap, and the turn-table came to a stop with its broadest surface shutting off the path from which they had come. "never mind," said zeb, "we don't want to get back, anyhow." "i'm not so sure of that," returned dorothy. "the mother dragon may come down and catch us here." "it is possible," agreed the wizard, "if this proves to be the path she usually takes. but i have been examining this tunnel, and i do not see any signs of so large a beast having passed through it." "then we're all right," said the girl, "for if the dragon went the other way she can't poss'bly get to us now." "of course not, my dear. but there is another thing to consider. the mother dragon probably knows the road to the earth's surface, and if she went the other way then we have come the wrong way," said the wizard, thoughtfully. "dear me!" cried dorothy. "that would be unlucky, wouldn't it?" "very. unless this passage also leads to the top of the earth," said zeb. "for my part, if we manage to get out of here i'll be glad it isn't the way the dragon goes." "so will i," returned dorothy. "it's enough to have your pedigree flung in your face by those saucy dragonettes. no one knows what the mother might do." they now moved on again, creeping slowly up another steep incline. the lanterns were beginning to grow dim, and the wizard poured the remaining oil from one into the other, so that the one light would last longer. but their journey was almost over, for in a short time they reached a small cave from which there was no further outlet. they did not realize their ill fortune at first, for their hearts were gladdened by the sight of a ray of sunshine coming through a small crack in the roof of the cave, far overhead. that meant that their world--the real world--was not very far away, and that the succession of perilous adventures they had encountered had at last brought them near the earth's surface, which meant home to them. but when the adventurers looked more carefully around them they discovered that they were in a strong prison from which there was no hope of escape. "but we're _almost_ on earth again," cried dorothy, "for there is the sun--the most _beau'ful_ sun that shines!" and she pointed eagerly at the crack in the distant roof. "almost on earth isn't being there," said the kitten, in a discontented tone. "it wouldn't be possible for even me to get up to that crack--or through it if i got there." "it appears that the path ends here," announced the wizard, gloomily. "and there is no way to go back," added zeb, with a low whistle of perplexity. "i was sure it would come to this, in the end," remarked the old cab-horse. "folks don't fall into the middle of the earth and then get back again to tell of their adventures--not in real life. and the whole thing has been unnatural because that cat and i are both able to talk your language, and to understand the words you say." "and so can the nine tiny piglets," added eureka. "don't forget them, for i may have to eat them, after all." "i've heard animals talk before," said dorothy, "and no harm came of it." "were you ever before shut up in a cave, far under the earth, with no way of getting out?" enquired the horse, seriously. "no," answered dorothy. "but don't you lose heart, jim, for i'm sure this isn't the end of our story, by any means." the reference to the piglets reminded the wizard that his pets had not enjoyed much exercise lately, and must be tired of their prison in his pocket. so he sat down upon the floor of the cave, brought the piglets out one by one, and allowed them to run around as much as they pleased. "my dears," he said to them, "i'm afraid i've got you into a lot of trouble, and that you will never again be able to leave this gloomy cave." "what's wrong?" asked a piglet. "we've been in the dark quite a while, and you may as well explain what has happened." the wizard told them of the misfortune that had overtaken the wanderers. "well," said another piglet, "you are a wizard, are you not?" "i am," replied the little man. "then you can do a few wizzes and get us out of this hole," declared the tiny one, with much confidence. "i could if i happened to be a real wizard," returned the master sadly. "but i'm not, my piggy-wees; i'm a humbug wizard." "nonsense!" cried several of the piglets, together. "you can ask dorothy," said the little man, in an injured tone. "it's true enough," returned the girl, earnestly. "our friend oz is merely a humbug wizard, for he once proved it to me. he can do several very wonderful things--if he knows how. but he can't wiz a single thing if he hasn't the tools and machinery to work with." "thank you, my dear, for doing me justice," responded the wizard, gratefully. "to be accused of being a real wizard, when i'm not, is a slander i will not tamely submit to. but i am one of the greatest humbug wizards that ever lived, and you will realize this when we have all starved together and our bones are scattered over the floor of this lonely cave." "i don't believe we'll realize anything, when it comes to that," remarked dorothy, who had been deep in thought. "but i'm not going to scatter my bones just yet, because i need them, and you prob'ly need yours, too." "we are helpless to escape," sighed the wizard. "_we_ may be helpless," answered dorothy, smiling at him, "but there are others who can do more than we can. cheer up, friends. i'm sure ozma will help us." "ozma!" exclaimed the wizard. "who is ozma?" "the girl that rules the marvelous land of oz," was the reply. "she's a friend of mine, for i met her in the land of ev, not long ago, and went to oz with her." "for the second time?" asked the wizard, with great interest. "yes. the first time i went to oz i found you there, ruling the emerald city. after you went up in a balloon, and escaped us, i got back to kansas by means of a pair of magical silver shoes." "i remember those shoes," said the little man, nodding. "they once belonged to the wicked witch. have you them here with you?" "no; i lost them somewhere in the air," explained the child. "but the second time i went to the land of oz i owned the nome king's magic belt, which is much more powerful than were the silver shoes." "where is that magic belt?" enquired the wizard, who had listened with great interest. "ozma has it; for its powers won't work in a common, ordinary country like the united states. anyone in a fairy country like the land of oz can do anything with it; so i left it with my friend the princess ozma, who used it to wish me in australia with uncle henry." "and were you?" asked zeb, astonished at what he heard. "of course; in just a jiffy. and ozma has an enchanted picture hanging in her room that shows her the exact scene where any of her friends may be, at any time she chooses. all she has to do is to say: 'i wonder what so-and-so is doing,' and at once the picture shows where her friend is and what the friend is doing. that's _real_ magic, mr. wizard; isn't it? well, every day at four o'clock ozma has promised to look at me in that picture, and if i am in need of help i am to make her a certain sign and she will put on the nome king's magic belt and wish me to be with her in oz." "do you mean that princess ozma will see this cave in her enchanted picture, and see all of us here, and what we are doing?" demanded zeb. "of course; when it is four o'clock," she replied, with a laugh at his startled expression. "and when you make a sign she will bring you to her in the land of oz?" continued the boy. "that's it, exactly; by means of the magic belt." "then," said the wizard, "you will be saved, little dorothy; and i am very glad of it. the rest of us will die much more cheerfully when we know you have escaped our sad fate." "_i_ won't die cheerfully!" protested the kitten. "there's nothing cheerful about dying that i could ever see, although they say a cat has nine lives, and so must die nine times." "have you ever died yet?" enquired the boy. "no, and i'm not anxious to begin," said eureka. "don't worry, dear," dorothy exclaimed, "i'll hold you in my arms, and take you with me." "take us, too!" cried the nine tiny piglets, all in one breath. "perhaps i can," answered dorothy. "i'll try." "couldn't you manage to hold me in your arms?" asked the cab-horse. dorothy laughed. "i'll do better than that," she promised, "for i can easily save you all, once i am myself in the land of oz." "how?" they asked. "by using the magic belt. all i need do is to wish you with me, and there you'll be--safe in the royal palace!" "good!" cried zeb. "i built that palace, and the emerald city, too," remarked the wizard, in a thoughtful tone, "and i'd like to see them again, for i was very happy among the munchkins and winkies and quadlings and gillikins." "who are they?" asked the boy. "the four nations that inhabit the land of oz," was the reply. "i wonder if they would treat me nicely if i went there again." "of course they would!" declared dorothy. "they are still proud of their former wizard, and often speak of you kindly." "do you happen to know whatever became of the tin woodman and the scarecrow?" he enquired. "they live in oz yet," said the girl, "and are very important people." "and the cowardly lion?" "oh, he lives there too, with his friend the hungry tiger; and billina is there, because she liked the place better than kansas, and wouldn't go with me to australia." "i'm afraid i don't know the hungry tiger and billina," said the wizard, shaking his head. "is billina a girl?" "no; she's a yellow hen, and a great friend of mine. you're sure to like billina, when you know her," asserted dorothy. "your friends sound like a menagerie," remarked zeb, uneasily. "couldn't you wish me in some safer place than oz." "don't worry," replied the girl. "you'll just love the folks in oz, when you get acquainted. what time is it, mr. wizard?" the little man looked at his watch--a big silver one that he carried in his vest pocket. "half-past three," he said. "then we must wait for half an hour," she continued; "but it won't take long, after that, to carry us all to the emerald city." they sat silently thinking for a time. then jim suddenly asked: "are there any horses in oz?" "only one," replied dorothy, "and he's a sawhorse." "a what?" "a sawhorse. princess ozma once brought him to life with a witch-powder, when she was a boy." "was ozma once a boy?" asked zeb, wonderingly. "yes; a wicked witch enchanted her, so she could not rule her kingdom. but she's a girl now, and the sweetest, loveliest girl in all the world." "a sawhorse is a thing they saw boards on," remarked jim, with a sniff. "it is when it's not alive," acknowledged the girl. "but this sawhorse can trot as fast as you can, jim; and he's very wise, too." "pah! i'll race the miserable wooden donkey any day in the week!" cried the cab-horse. dorothy did not reply to that. she felt that jim would know more about the saw-horse later on. the time dragged wearily enough to the eager watchers, but finally the wizard announced that four o'clock had arrived, and dorothy caught up the kitten and began to make the signal that had been agreed upon to the far-away, invisible ozma. "nothing seems to happen," said zeb, doubtfully. "oh, we must give ozma time to put on the magic belt," replied the girl. she had scarcely spoken the words when she suddenly disappeared from the cave, and with her went the kitten. there had been no sound of any kind and no warning. one moment dorothy sat beside them with the kitten in her lap, and a moment later the horse, the piglets, the wizard and the boy were all that remained in the underground prison. [illustration: dorothy made the signal.] "i believe we will soon follow her," announced the wizard, in a tone of great relief; "for i know something about the magic of the fairyland that is called the land of oz. let us be ready, for we may be sent for any minute." he put the piglets safely away in his pocket again and then he and zeb got into the buggy and sat expectantly upon the seat. "will it hurt?" asked the boy, in a voice that trembled a little. "not at all," replied the wizard. "it will all happen as quick as a wink." and that was the way it did happen. the cab-horse gave a nervous start and zeb began to rub his eyes to make sure he was not asleep. for they were in the streets of a beautiful emerald-green city, bathed in a grateful green light that was especially pleasing to their eyes, and surrounded by merry faced people in gorgeous green-and-gold costumes of many extraordinary designs. before them were the jewel-studded gates of a magnificent palace, and now the gates opened slowly as if inviting them to enter the courtyard, where splendid flowers were blooming and pretty fountains shot their silvery sprays into the air. zeb shook the reins to rouse the cab-horse from his stupor of amazement, for the people were beginning to gather around and stare at the strangers. "gid-dap!" cried the boy, and at the word jim slowly trotted into the courtyard and drew the buggy along the jewelled driveway to the great entrance of the royal palace. [illustration] chapter . old friends are reunited many servants dressed in handsome uniforms stood ready to welcome the new arrivals, and when the wizard got out of the buggy a pretty girl in a green gown cried out in surprise: "why, it's oz, the wonderful wizard, come back again!" the little man looked at her closely and then took both the maiden's hands in his and shook them cordially. "on my word," he exclaimed, "it's little jellia jamb--as pert and pretty as ever!" "why not, mr. wizard?" asked jellia, bowing low. "but i'm afraid you cannot rule the emerald city, as you used to, because we now have a beautiful princess whom everyone loves dearly." "and the people will not willingly part with her," added a tall soldier in a captain-general's uniform. the wizard turned to look at him. "did you not wear green whiskers at one time?" he asked. "yes," said the soldier; "but i shaved them off long ago, and since then i have risen from a private to be the chief general of the royal armies." "that's nice," said the little man. "but i assure you, my good people, that i do not wish to rule the emerald city," he added, earnestly. "in that case you are very welcome!" cried all the servants, and it pleased the wizard to note the respect with which the royal retainers bowed before him. his fame had not been forgotten in the land of oz, by any means. "where is dorothy?" enquired zeb, anxiously, as he left the buggy and stood beside his friend the little wizard. "she is with the princess ozma, in the private rooms of the palace," replied jellia jamb. "but she has ordered me to make you welcome and to show you to your apartments." the boy looked around him with wondering eyes. such magnificence and wealth as was displayed in this palace was more than he had ever dreamed of, and he could scarcely believe that all the gorgeous glitter was real and not tinsel. "what's to become of me?" asked the horse, uneasily. he had seen considerable of life in the cities in his younger days, and knew that this regal palace was no place for him. it perplexed even jellia jamb, for a time, to know what to do with the animal. the green maiden was much astonished at the sight of so unusual a creature, for horses were unknown in this land; but those who lived in the emerald city were apt to be astonished by queer sights, so after inspecting the cab-horse and noting the mild look in his big eyes the girl decided not to be afraid of him. "there are no stables here," said the wizard, "unless some have been built since i went away." "we have never needed them before," answered jellia; "for the sawhorse lives in a room of the palace, being much smaller and more natural in appearance than this great beast you have brought with you." "do you mean that i'm a freak?" asked jim, angrily. "oh, no," she hastened to say, "there may be many more like you in the place you came from, but in oz any horse but a sawhorse is unusual." this mollified jim a little, and after some thought the green maiden decided to give the cab-horse a room in the palace, such a big building having many rooms that were seldom in use. so zeb unharnessed jim, and several of the servants then led the horse around to the rear, where they selected a nice large apartment that he could have all to himself. then jellia said to the wizard: "your own room--which was back of the great throne room--has been vacant ever since you left us. would you like it again?" "yes, indeed!" returned the little man. "it will seem like being at home again, for i lived in that room for many, many years." he knew the way to it, and a servant followed him, carrying his satchel. zeb was also escorted to a room--so grand and beautiful that he almost feared to sit in the chairs or lie upon the bed, lest he might dim their splendor. in the closets he discovered many fancy costumes of rich velvets and brocades, and one of the attendants told him to dress himself in any of the clothes that pleased him and to be prepared to dine with the princess and dorothy in an hour's time. opening from the chamber was a fine bath-room having a marble tub with perfumed water; so the boy, still dazed by the novelty of his surroundings, indulged in a good bath and then selected a maroon velvet costume with silver buttons to replace his own soiled and much worn clothing. there were silk stockings and soft leather slippers with diamond buckles to accompany his new costume, and when he was fully dressed zeb looked much more dignified and imposing than ever before in his life. he was all ready when an attendant came to escort him to the presence of the princess; he followed bashfully and was ushered into a room more dainty and attractive than it was splendid. here he found dorothy seated beside a young girl so marvelously beautiful that the boy stopped suddenly with a gasp of admiration. but dorothy sprang up and ran to seize her friend's hand, drawing him impulsively toward the lovely princess, who smiled most graciously upon her guest. then the wizard entered, and his presence relieved the boy's embarrassment. the little man was clothed in black velvet, with many sparkling emerald ornaments decorating his breast; but his bald head and wrinkled features made him appear more amusing than impressive. ozma had been quite curious to meet the famous man who had built the emerald city and united the munchkins, gillikins, quadlings and winkies into one people; so when they were all four seated at the dinner table the princess said: "please tell me, mr. wizard, whether you called yourself oz after this great country, or whether you believe my country is called oz after you. it is a matter that i have long wished to enquire about, because you are of a strange race and my own name is ozma. no one, i am sure, is better able to explain this mystery than you." "that is true," answered the little wizard; "therefore it will give me pleasure to explain my connection with your country. in the first place, i must tell you that i was born in omaha, and my father, who was a politician, named me oscar zoroaster phadrig isaac norman henkle emmannuel ambroise diggs, diggs being the last name because he could think of no more to go before it. taken altogether, it was a dreadfully long name to weigh down a poor innocent child, and one of the hardest lessons i ever learned was to remember my own name. when i grew up i just called myself o. z., because the other initials were p-i-n-h-e-a-d; and that spelled 'pinhead,' which was a reflection on my intelligence." "surely no one could blame you for cutting your name short," said ozma, sympathetically. "but didn't you cut it almost too short?" "perhaps so," replied the wizard. "when a young man i ran away from home and joined a circus. i used to call myself a wizard, and do tricks of ventriloquism." "what does that mean?" asked the princess. "throwing my voice into any object i pleased, to make it appear that the object was speaking instead of me. also i began to make balloon ascensions. on my balloon and on all the other articles i used in the circus i painted the two initials: 'o. z.', to show that those things belonged to me. "one day my balloon ran away with me and brought me across the deserts to this beautiful country. when the people saw me come from the sky they naturally thought me some superior creature, and bowed down before me. i told them i was a wizard, and showed them some easy tricks that amazed them; and when they saw the initials painted on the balloon they called me oz." "now i begin to understand," said the princess, smiling. "at that time," continued the wizard, busily eating his soup while talking, "there were four separate countries in this land, each one of the four being ruled by a witch. but the people thought my power was greater than that of the witches; and perhaps the witches thought so too, for they never dared oppose me. i ordered the emerald city to be built just where the four countries cornered together, and when it was completed i announced myself the ruler of the land of oz, which included all the four countries of the munchkins, the gillikins, the winkies and the quadlings. over this land i ruled in peace for many years, until i grew old and longed to see my native city once again. so when dorothy was first blown to this place by a cyclone i arranged to go away with her in a balloon; but the balloon escaped too soon and carried me back alone. after many adventures i reached omaha, only to find that all my old friends were dead or had moved away. so, having nothing else to do, i joined a circus again, and made my balloon ascensions until the earthquake caught me." "that is quite a history," said ozma; "but there is a little more history about the land of oz that you do not seem to understand--perhaps for the reason that no one ever told it you. many years before you came here this land was united under one ruler, as it is now, and the ruler's name was always 'oz', which means in our language 'great and good'; or, if the ruler happened to be a woman, her name was always 'ozma.' but once upon a time four witches leagued together to depose the king and rule the four parts of the kingdom themselves; so when the ruler, my grandfather, was hunting one day, one wicked witch named mombi stole him and carried him away, keeping him a close prisoner. then the witches divided up the kingdom, and ruled the four parts of it until you came here. that was why the people were so glad to see you, and why they thought from your initials that you were their rightful ruler." "but, at that time," said the wizard, thoughtfully, "there were two good witches and two wicked witches ruling in the land." "yes," replied ozma, "because a good witch had conquered mombi in the north and glinda the good had conquered the evil witch in the south. but mombi was still my grandfather's jailor, and afterward my father's jailor. when i was born she transformed me into a boy, hoping that no one would ever recognize me and know that i was the rightful princess of the land of oz. but i escaped from her and am now the ruler of my people." "i am very glad of that," said the wizard, "and hope you will consider me one of your most faithful and devoted subjects." "we owe a great deal to the wonderful wizard," continued the princess, "for it was you who built this splendid emerald city." "your people built it," he answered. "i only bossed the job, as we say in omaha." "but you ruled it wisely and well for many years," said she, "and made the people proud of your magical art. so, as you are now too old to wander abroad and work in a circus, i offer you a home here as long as you live. you shall be the official wizard of my kingdom, and be treated with every respect and consideration." "i accept your kind offer with gratitude, gracious princess," the little man said, in a soft voice, and they could all see that tear-drops were standing in his keen old eyes. it meant a good deal to him to secure a home like this. "he's only a humbug wizard, though," said dorothy, smiling at him. "and that is the safest kind of a wizard to have," replied ozma, promptly. "oz can do some good tricks, humbug or no humbug," announced zeb, who was now feeling more at ease. "he shall amuse us with his tricks tomorrow," said the princess. "i have sent messengers to summon all of dorothy's old friends to meet her and give her welcome, and they ought to arrive very soon, now." indeed, the dinner was no sooner finished than in rushed the scarecrow, to hug dorothy in his padded arms and tell her how glad he was to see her again. the wizard was also most heartily welcomed by the straw man, who was an important personage in the land of oz. "how are your brains?" enquired the little humbug, as he grasped the soft, stuffed hands of his old friend. "working finely," answered the scarecrow. "i'm very certain, oz, that you gave me the best brains in the world, for i can think with them day and night, when all other brains are fast asleep." [illustration: dorothy and ozma.] "how long did you rule the emerald city, after i left here?" was the next question. "quite awhile, until i was conquered by a girl named general jinjur. but ozma soon conquered her, with the help of glinda the good, and after that i went to live with nick chopper, the tin woodman." just then a loud cackling was heard outside; and, when a servant threw open the door with a low bow, a yellow hen strutted in. dorothy sprang forward and caught the fluffy fowl in her arms, uttering at the same time a glad cry. "oh, billina!" she said; "how fat and sleek you've grown." "why shouldn't i?" asked the hen, in a sharp, clear voice. "i live on the fat of the land--don't i, ozma?" "you have everything you wish for," said the princess. around billina's neck was a string of beautiful pearls, and on her legs were bracelets of emeralds. she nestled herself comfortably in dorothy's lap until the kitten gave a snarl of jealous anger and leaped up with a sharp claw fiercely bared to strike billina a blow. but the little girl gave the angry kitten such a severe cuff that it jumped down again without daring to scratch. "how horrid of you, eureka!" cried dorothy. "is that the way to treat my friends?" "you have queer friends, seems to me," replied the kitten, in a surly tone. "seems to me the same way," said billina, scornfully, "if that beastly cat is one of them." "look here!" said dorothy, sternly. "i won't have any quarrelling in the land of oz, i can tell you! everybody lives in peace here, and loves everybody else; and unless you two, billina and eureka, make up and be friends, i'll take my magic belt and wish you both home again, _immejitly_. so, there!" they were both much frightened at the threat, and promised meekly to be good. but it was never noticed that they became very warm friends, for all of that. and now the tin woodman arrived, his body most beautifully nickle-plated, so that it shone splendidly in the brilliant light of the room. the tin woodman loved dorothy most tenderly, and welcomed with joy the return of the little old wizard. "sir," said he to the latter, "i never can thank you enough for the excellent heart you once gave me. it has made me many friends, i assure you, and it beats as kindly and lovingly today as it ever did." "i'm glad to hear that," said the wizard. "i was afraid it would get moldy in that tin body of yours." "not at all," returned nick chopper. "it keeps finely, being preserved in my air-tight chest." zeb was a little shy when first introduced to these queer people; but they were so friendly and sincere that he soon grew to admire them very much, even finding some good qualities in the yellow hen. but he became nervous again when the next visitor was announced. "this," said princess ozma, "is my friend mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e., who assisted me one time when i was in great distress, and is now the dean of the royal college of athletic science." "ah," said the wizard; "i'm pleased to meet so distinguished a personage." "h. m.," said the woggle-bug, pompously, "means highly magnified; and t. e. means thoroughly educated. i am, in reality, a very big bug, and doubtless the most intelligent being in all this broad domain." "how well you disguise it," said the wizard. "but i don't doubt your word in the least." "nobody doubts it, sir," replied the woggle-bug, and drawing a book from its pocket the strange insect turned its back on the company and sat down in a corner to read. nobody minded this rudeness, which might have seemed more impolite in one less thoroughly educated; so they straightway forgot him and joined in a merry conversation that kept them well amused until bed-time arrived. [illustration] chapter . jim, the cab-horse jim the cab-horse found himself in possession of a large room with a green marble floor and carved marble wainscoting, which was so stately in its appearance that it would have awed anyone else. jim accepted it as a mere detail, and at his command the attendants gave his coat a good rubbing, combed his mane and tail, and washed his hoofs and fetlocks. then they told him dinner would be served directly and he replied that they could not serve it too quickly to suit his convenience. first they brought him a steaming bowl of soup, which the horse eyed in dismay. "take that stuff away!" he commanded. "do you take me for a salamander?" they obeyed at once, and next served a fine large turbot on a silver platter, with drawn gravey poured over it. "fish!" cried jim, with a sniff. "do you take me for a tom-cat? away with it!" the servants were a little discouraged, but soon they brought in a great tray containing two dozen nicely roasted quail on toast. "well, well!" said the horse, now thoroughly provoked. "do you take me for a weasel? how stupid and ignorant you are, in the land of oz, and what dreadful things you feed upon! is there nothing that is decent to eat in this palace?" the trembling servants sent for the royal steward, who came in haste and said: "what would your highness like for dinner?" "highness!" repeated jim, who was unused to such titles. "you are at least six feet high, and that is higher than any other animal in this country," said the steward. "well, my highness would like some oats," declared the horse. "oats? we have no whole oats," the steward replied, with much defference. "but there is any quantity of oatmeal, which we often cook for breakfast. oatmeal is a breakfast dish," added the steward, humbly. "i'll make it a dinner dish," said jim. "fetch it on, but don't cook it, as you value your life." you see, the respect shown the worn-out old cab-horse made him a little arrogant, and he forgot he was a guest, never having been treated otherwise than as a servant since the day he was born, until his arrival in the land of oz. but the royal attendants did not heed the animal's ill temper. they soon mixed a tub of oatmeal with a little water, and jim ate it with much relish. then the servants heaped a lot of rugs upon the floor and the old horse slept on the softest bed he had ever known in his life. in the morning, as soon as it was daylight, he resolved to take a walk and try to find some grass for breakfast; so he ambled calmly through the handsome arch of the doorway, turned the corner of the palace, wherein all seemed asleep, and came face to face with the sawhorse. jim stopped abruptly, being startled and amazed. the sawhorse stopped at the same time and stared at the other with its queer protruding eyes, which were mere knots in the log that formed its body. the legs of the sawhorse were four sticks driven into holes bored in the log; its tail was a small branch that had been left by accident and its mouth a place chopped in one end of the body which projected a little and served as a head. the ends of the wooden legs were shod with plates of solid gold, and the saddle of the princess ozma, which was of red leather set with sparkling diamonds, was strapped to the clumsy body. [illustration: "for goodness sake, what sort of a being are you?"] jim's eyes stuck out as much as those of the sawhorse, and he stared at the creature with his ears erect and his long head drawn back until it rested against his arched neck. in this comical position the two horses circled slowly around each other for a while, each being unable to realize what the singular thing might be which it now beheld for the first time. then jim exclaimed: "for goodness sake, what sort of a being are you?" "i'm a sawhorse," replied the other. "oh; i believe i've heard of you," said the cab-horse; "but you are unlike anything that i expected to see." "i do not doubt it," the sawhorse observed, with a tone of pride. "i am considered quite unusual." "you are, indeed. but a rickety wooden thing like you has no right to be alive." "i couldn't help it," returned the other, rather crestfallen. "ozma sprinkled me with a magic powder, and i just had to live. i know i'm not much account; but i'm the only horse in all the land of oz, so they treat me with great respect." "you, a horse!" "oh, not a real one, of course. there are no real horses here at all. but i'm a splendid imitation of one." jim gave an indignant neigh. "look at me!" he cried. "behold a real horse!" the wooden animal gave a start, and then examined the other intently. "is it possible that you are a real horse?" he murmured. "not only possible, but true," replied jim, who was gratified by the impression he had created. "it is proved by my fine points. for example, look at the long hairs on my tail, with which i can whisk away the flies." "the flies never trouble me," said the saw-horse. "and notice my great strong teeth, with which i nibble the grass." "it is not necessary for me to eat," observed the saw-horse. "also examine my broad chest, which enables me to draw deep, full breaths," said jim, proudly. "i have no need to breathe," returned the other. "no; you miss many pleasures," remarked the cab-horse, pityingly. "you do not know the relief of brushing away a fly that has bitten you, nor the delight of eating delicious food, nor the satisfaction of drawing a long breath of fresh, pure air. you may be an imitation of a horse, but you're a mighty poor one." "oh, i cannot hope ever to be like you," sighed the sawhorse. "but i am glad to meet at last a real horse. you are certainly the most beautiful creature i ever beheld." this praise won jim completely. to be called beautiful was a novelty in his experience. said he: "your chief fault, my friend, is in being made of wood, and that i suppose you cannot help. real horses, like myself, are made of flesh and blood and bones." "i can see the bones all right," replied the sawhorse, "and they are admirable and distinct. also i can see the flesh. but the blood, i suppose, is tucked away inside." "exactly," said jim. "what good is it?" asked the sawhorse. jim did not know, but he would not tell the sawhorse that. "if anything cuts me," he replied, "the blood runs out to show where i am cut. you, poor thing! cannot even bleed when you are hurt." "but i am never hurt," said the sawhorse. "once in a while i get broken up some, but i am easily repaired and put in good order again. and i never feel a break or a splinter in the least." jim was almost tempted to envy the wooden horse for being unable to feel pain; but the creature was so absurdly unnatural that he decided he would not change places with it under any circumstances. "how did you happen to be shod with gold?" he asked. "princess ozma did that," was the reply; "and it saves my legs from wearing out. we've had a good many adventures together, ozma and i, and she likes me." the cab-horse was about to reply when suddenly he gave a start and a neigh of terror and stood trembling like a leaf. for around the corner had come two enormous savage beasts, treading so lightly that they were upon him before he was aware of their presence. jim was in the act of plunging down the path to escape when the sawhorse cried out: "stop, my brother! stop, real horse! these are friends, and will do you no harm." jim hesitated, eyeing the beasts fearfully. one was an enormous lion with clear, intelligent eyes, a tawney mane bushy and well kept, and a body like yellow plush. the other was a great tiger with purple stripes around his lithe body, powerful limbs, and eyes that showed through the half closed lids like coals of fire. the huge forms of these monarchs of the forest and jungle were enough to strike terror to the stoutest heart, and it is no wonder jim was afraid to face them. but the sawhorse introduced the stranger in a calm tone, saying, "this, noble horse, is my friend the cowardly lion, who is the valiant king of the forest, but at the same time a faithful vassal of princess ozma. and this is the hungry tiger, the terror of the jungle, who longs to devour fat babies but is prevented by his conscience from doing so. these royal beasts are both warm friends of little dorothy and have come to the emerald city this morning to welcome her to our fairyland." hearing these words jim resolved to conquer his alarm. he bowed his head with as much dignity as he could muster toward the savage looking beasts, who in return nodded in a friendly way. "is not the real horse a beautiful animal?" asked the sawhorse admiringly. "that is doubtless a matter of taste," returned the lion. "in the forest he would be thought ungainly, because his face is stretched out and his neck is uselessly long. his joints, i notice, are swollen and overgrown, and he lacks flesh and is old in years." "and dreadfully tough," added the hungry tiger, in a sad voice. "my conscience would never permit me to eat so tough a morsel as the real horse." "i'm glad of that," said jim; "for i, also, have a conscience, and it tells me not to crush in your skull with a blow of my powerful hoof." if he thought to frighten the striped beast by such language he was mistaken. the tiger seemed to smile, and winked one eye slowly. "you have a good conscience, friend horse," it said, "and if you attend to its teachings it will do much to protect you from harm. some day i will let you try to crush in my skull, and afterward you will know more about tigers than you do now." "any friend of dorothy," remarked the cowardly lion, "must be our friend, as well. so let us cease this talk of skull crushing and converse upon more pleasant subjects. have you breakfasted, sir horse?" "not yet," replied jim. "but here is plenty of excellent clover, so if you will excuse me i will eat now." "he's a vegetarian," remarked the tiger, as the horse began to munch the clover. "if i could eat grass i would not need a conscience, for nothing could then tempt me to devour babies and lambs." just then dorothy, who had risen early and heard the voices of the animals, ran out to greet her old friends. she hugged both the lion and the tiger with eager delight, but seemed to love the king of beasts a little better than she did his hungry friend, having known him longer. by the time they had indulged in a good talk and dorothy had told them all about the awful earthquake and her recent adventures, the breakfast bell rang from the palace and the little girl went inside to join her human comrades. as she entered the great hall a voice called out, in a rather harsh tone: "what! are _you_ here again?" "yes, i am," she answered, looking all around to see where the voice came from. "what brought you back?" was the next question, and dorothy's eye rested on an antlered head hanging on the wall just over the fireplace, and caught its lips in the act of moving. "good gracious!" she exclaimed. "i thought you were stuffed." "so i am," replied the head. "but once on a time i was part of the gump, which ozma sprinkled with the powder of life. i was then for a time the head of the finest flying machine that was ever known to exist, and we did many wonderful things. afterward the gump was taken apart and i was put back on this wall; but i can still talk when i feel in the mood, which is not often." "it's very strange," said the girl. "what were you when you were first alive?" "that i have forgotten," replied the gump's head, "and i do not think it is of much importance. but here comes ozma; so i'd better hush up, for the princess doesn't like me to chatter since she changed her name from tip to ozma." just then the girlish ruler of oz opened the door and greeted dorothy with a good-morning kiss. the little princess seemed fresh and rosy and in good spirits. "breakfast is served, dear," she said, "and i am hungry. so don't let us keep it waiting a single minute." [illustration] [illustration: jim stood trembling like a leaf.] chapter . the nine tiny piglets after breakfast ozma announced that she had ordered a holiday to be observed throughout the emerald city, in honor of her visitors. the people had learned that their old wizard had returned to them and all were anxious to see him again, for he had always been a rare favorite. so first there was to be a grand procession through the streets, after which the little old man was requested to perform some of his wizardries in the great throne room of the palace. in the afternoon there were to be games and races. the procession was very imposing. first came the imperial cornet band of oz, dressed in emerald velvet uniforms with slashes of pea-green satin and buttons of immense cut emeralds. they played the national air called "the oz spangled banner," and behind them were the standard bearers with the royal flag. this flag was divided into four quarters, one being colored sky-blue, another pink, a third lavender and a fourth white. in the center was a large emerald-green star, and all over the four quarters were sewn spangles that glittered beautifully in the sunshine. the colors represented the four countries of oz, and the green star the emerald city. just behind the royal standard-bearers came the princess ozma in her royal chariot, which was of gold encrusted with emeralds and diamonds set in exquisite designs. the chariot was drawn on this occasion by the cowardly lion and the hungry tiger, who were decorated with immense pink and blue bows. in the chariot rode ozma and dorothy, the former in splendid raiment and wearing her royal coronet, while the little kansas girl wore around her waist the magic belt she had once captured from the nome king. following the chariot came the scarecrow mounted on the sawhorse, and the people cheered him almost as loudly as they did their lovely ruler. behind him stalked with regular, jerky steps, the famous machine-man called tik-tok, who had been wound up by dorothy for the occasion. tik-tok moved by clockwork, and was made all of burnished copper. he really belonged to the kansas girl, who had much respect for his thoughts after they had been properly wound and set going; but as the copper man would be useless in any place but a fairy country dorothy had left him in charge of ozma, who saw that he was suitably cared for. there followed another band after this, which was called the royal court band, because the members all lived in the palace. they wore white uniforms with real diamond buttons and played "what is oz without ozma" very sweetly. then came professor woggle-bug, with a group of students from the royal college of scientific athletics. the boys wore long hair and striped sweaters and yelled their college yell every other step they took, to the great satisfaction of the populace, which was glad to have this evidence that their lungs were in good condition. the brilliantly polished tin woodman marched next, at the head of the royal army of oz which consisted of twenty-eight officers, from generals down to captains. there were no privates in the army because all were so courageous and skillful that they had been promoted one by one until there were no privates left. jim and the buggy followed, the old cab-horse being driven by zeb while the wizard stood up on the seat and bowed his bald head right and left in answer to the cheers of the people, who crowded thick about him. taken altogether the procession was a grand success, and when it had returned to the palace the citizens crowded into the great throne room to see the wizard perform his tricks. the first thing the little humbug did was to produce a tiny white piglet from underneath his hat and pretend to pull it apart, making two. this act he repeated until all of the nine tiny piglets were visible, and they were so glad to get out of his pocket that they ran around in a very lively manner. the pretty little creatures would have been a novelty anywhere, so the people were as amazed and delighted at their appearance as even the wizard could have desired. when he had made them all disappear again ozma declared she was sorry they were gone, for she wanted one of them to pet and play with. so the wizard pretended to take one of the piglets out of the hair of the princess (while really he slyly took it from his inside pocket) and ozma smiled joyously as the creature nestled in her arms, and she promised to have an emerald collar made for its fat neck and to keep the little squealer always at hand to amuse her. afterward it was noticed that the wizard always performed his famous trick with eight piglets, but it seemed to please the people just as well as if there had been nine of them. in his little room back of the throne room the wizard had found a lot of things he had left behind him when he went away in the balloon, for no one had occupied the apartment in his absence. there was enough material there to enable him to prepare several new tricks which he had learned from some of the jugglers in the circus, and he had passed part of the night in getting them ready. so he followed the trick of the nine tiny piglets with several other wonderful feats that greatly delighted his audience and the people did not seem to care a bit whether the little man was a humbug wizard or not, so long as he succeeded in amusing them. they applauded all his tricks and at the end of the performance begged him earnestly not to go away again and leave them. "in that case," said the little man, gravely, "i will cancel all of my engagements before the crowned heads of europe and america and devote myself to the people of oz, for i love you all so well that i can deny you nothing." after the people had been dismissed with this promise our friends joined princess ozma at an elaborate luncheon in the palace, where even the tiger and the lion were sumptuously fed and jim the cab-horse ate his oatmeal out of a golden bowl with seven rows of rubies, sapphires and diamonds set around the rim of it. in the afternoon they all went to a great field outside the city gates where the games were to be held. there was a beautiful canopy for ozma and her guests to sit under and watch the people run races and jump and wrestle. you may be sure the folks of oz did their best with such a distinguished company watching them, and finally zeb offered to wrestle with a little munchkin who seemed to be the champion. in appearance he was twice as old as zeb, for he had long pointed whiskers and wore a peaked hat with little bells all around the brim of it, which tinkled gaily as he moved. but although the munchkin was hardly tall enough to come to zeb's shoulder he was so strong and clever that he laid the boy three times on his back with apparent ease. zeb was greatly astonished at his defeat, and when the pretty princess joined her people in laughing at him he proposed a boxing-match with the munchkin, to which the little ozite readily agreed. but the first time that zeb managed to give him a sharp box on the ears the munchkin sat down upon the ground and cried until the tears ran down his whiskers, because he had been hurt. this made zeb laugh, in turn, and the boy felt comforted to find that ozma laughed as merrily at her weeping subject as she had at him. just then the scarecrow proposed a race between the sawhorse and the cab-horse; and although all the others were delighted at the suggestion the sawhorse drew back, saying: "such a race would not be fair." "of course not," added jim, with a touch of scorn; "those little wooden legs of yours are not half as long as my own." "it isn't that," said the sawhorse, modestly; "but i never tire, and you do." "bah!" cried jim, looking with great disdain at the other; "do you imagine for an instant that such a shabby imitation of a horse as you are can run as fast as i?" "i don't know, i'm sure," replied the sawhorse. "that is what we are trying to find out," remarked the scarecrow. "the object of a race is to see who can win it--or at least that is what my excellent brains think." "once, when i was young," said jim, "i was a race horse, and defeated all who dared run against me. i was born in kentucky, you know, where all the best and most aristocratic horses come from." "but you're old, now, jim," suggested zeb. "old! why, i feel like a colt today," replied jim. "i only wish there was a real horse here for me to race with. i'd show the people a fine sight, i can tell you." "then why not race with the sawhorse?" enquired the scarecrow. "he's afraid," said jim. "oh, no," answered the sawhorse. "i merely said it wasn't fair. but if my friend the real horse is willing to undertake the race i am quite ready." so they unharnessed jim and took the saddle off the sawhorse, and the two queerly matched animals were stood side by side for the start. "when i say 'go!'" zeb called to them, "you must dig out and race until you reach those three trees you see over yonder. then circle 'round them and come back again. the first one that passes the place where the princess sits shall be named the winner. are you ready?" "i suppose i ought to give the wooden dummy a good start of me," growled jim. "never mind that," said the sawhorse. "i'll do the best i can." "go!" cried zeb; and at the word the two horses leaped forward and the race was begun. [illustration: the wizard took a piglet from ozma's hair.] jim's big hoofs pounded away at a great rate, and although he did not look very graceful he ran in a way to do credit to his kentucky breeding. but the sawhorse was swifter than the wind. its wooden legs moved so fast that their twinkling could scarcely be seen, and although so much smaller than the cab-horse it covered the ground much faster. before they had reached the trees the sawhorse was far ahead, and the wooden animal returned to the starting place and was being lustily cheered by the ozites before jim came panting up to the canopy where the princess and her friends were seated. [illustration: the hungry tiger teaches jim a lesson.] i am sorry to record the fact that jim was not only ashamed of his defeat but for a moment lost control of his temper. as he looked at the comical face of the sawhorse he imagined that the creature was laughing at him; so in a fit of unreasonable anger he turned around and made a vicious kick that sent his rival tumbling head over heels upon the ground, and broke off one of its legs and its left ear. an instant later the tiger crouched and launched its huge body through the air swift and resistless as a ball from a cannon. the beast struck jim full on his shoulder and sent the astonished cab-horse rolling over and over, amid shouts of delight from the spectators, who had been horrified by the ungracious act he had been guilty of. when jim came to himself and sat upon his haunches he found the cowardly lion crouched on one side of him and the hungry tiger on the other, and their eyes were glowing like balls of fire. "i beg your pardon, i'm sure," said jim, meekly. "i was wrong to kick the sawhorse, and i am sorry i became angry at him. he has won the race, and won it fairly; but what can a horse of flesh do against a tireless beast of wood?" hearing this apology the tiger and the lion stopped lashing their tails and retreated with dignified steps to the side of the princess. "no one must injure one of our friends in our presence," growled the lion; and zeb ran to jim and whispered that unless he controlled his temper in the future he would probably be torn to pieces. then the tin woodman cut a straight and strong limb from a tree with his gleaming axe and made a new leg and a new ear for the sawhorse; and when they had been securely fastened in place princess ozma took the coronet from her own head and placed it upon that of the winner of the race. said she: "my friend, i reward you for your swiftness by proclaiming you prince of horses, whether of wood or of flesh; and hereafter all other horses--in the land of oz, at least--must be considered imitations, and you the real champion of your race." there was more applause at this, and then ozma had the jewelled saddle replaced upon the sawhorse and herself rode the victor back to the city at the head of the grand procession. "i ought to be a fairy," grumbled jim, as he slowly drew the buggy home; "for to be just an ordinary horse in a fairy country is to be of no account whatever. it's no place for us, zeb." "it's lucky we got here, though," said the boy; and jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him. [illustration] chapter . the trial of eureka the kitten several days of festivity and merry-making followed, for such old friends did not often meet and there was much to be told and talked over between them, and many amusements to be enjoyed in this delightful country. ozma was happy to have dorothy beside her, for girls of her own age with whom it was proper for the princess to associate were very few, and often the youthful ruler of oz was lonely for lack of companionship. it was the third morning after dorothy's arrival, and she was sitting with ozma and their friends in a reception room, talking over old times, when the princess said to her maid: "please go to my boudoir, jellia, and get the white piglet i left on the dressing-table. i want to play with it." jellia at once departed on the errand, and she was gone so long that they had almost forgotten her mission when the green robed maiden returned with a troubled face. "the piglet is not there, your highness," said she. "not there!" exclaimed ozma. "are you sure?" "i have hunted in every part of the room," the maid replied. "was not the door closed?" asked the princess. "yes, your highness; i am sure it was; for when i opened it dorothy's white kitten crept out and ran up the stairs." hearing this, dorothy and the wizard exchanged startled glances, for they remembered how often eureka had longed to eat a piglet. the little girl jumped up at once. "come, ozma," she said, anxiously; "let us go ourselves to search for the piglet." so the two went to the dressing-room of the princess and searched carefully in every corner and among the vases and baskets and ornaments that stood about the pretty boudoir. but not a trace could they find of the tiny creature they sought. dorothy was nearly weeping, by this time, while ozma was angry and indignant. when they returned to the others the princess said: "there is little doubt that my pretty piglet has been eaten by that horrid kitten, and if that is true the offender must be punished." "i don't b'lieve eureka would do such a dreadful thing!" cried dorothy, much distressed. "go and get my kitten, please, jellia, and we'll hear what she has to say about it." the green maiden hastened away, but presently returned and said: "the kitten will not come. she threatened to scratch my eyes out if i touched her." "where is she?" asked dorothy. "under the bed in your own room," was the reply. so dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed. "come here, eureka!" she said. "i won't," answered the kitten, in a surly voice. "oh, eureka! why are you so bad?" the kitten did not reply. "if you don't come to me, right away," continued dorothy, getting provoked, "i'll take my magic belt and wish you in the country of the gurgles." "why do you want me?" asked eureka, disturbed by this threat. "you must go to princess ozma. she wants to talk to you." "all right," returned the kitten, creeping out. "i'm not afraid of ozma--or anyone else." dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence. "tell me, eureka," said the princess, gently: "did you eat my pretty piglet?" "i won't answer such a foolish question," asserted eureka, with a snarl. "oh, yes you will, dear," dorothy declared. "the piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when jellia opened the door. so, if you are innocent, eureka, you must tell the princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet." "who accuses me?" asked the kitten, defiantly. "no one," answered ozma. "your actions alone accuse you. the fact is that i left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must hove stolen in without my knowing it. when next the door was opened you ran out and hid yourself--and the piglet was gone." "that's none of my business," growled the kitten. "don't be impudent, eureka," admonished dorothy. "it is you who are impudent," said eureka, "for accusing me of such a crime when you can't prove it except by guessing." ozma was now greatly incensed by the kitten's conduct. she summoned her captain-general, and when the long, lean officer appeared she said: "carry this cat away to prison, and keep her in safe confinement until she is tried by law for the crime of murder." so the captain-general took eureka from the arms of the now weeping dorothy and in spite of the kitten's snarls and scratches carried it away to prison. "what shall we do now?" asked the scarecrow, with a sigh, for such a crime had cast a gloom over all the company. "i will summon the court to meet in the throne room at three o'clock," replied ozma. "i myself will be the judge, and the kitten shall have a fair trial." "what will happen if she is guilty?" asked dorothy. "she must die," answered the princess. "nine times?" enquired the scarecrow. "as many times as is necessary," was the reply. "i will ask the tin woodman to defend the prisoner, because he has such a kind heart i am sure he will do his best to save her. and the woggle-bug shall be the public accuser, because he is so learned that no one can deceive him." "who will be the jury?" asked the tin woodman. [illustration: portrait of the wizard of oz.] "there ought to be several animals on the jury," said ozma, "because animals understand each other better than we people understand them. so the jury shall consist of the cowardly lion, the hungry tiger, jim the cab-horse, the yellow hen, the scarecrow, the wizard, tik-tok the machine man, the sawhorse and zeb of hugson's ranch. that makes the nine which the law requires, and all my people shall be admitted to hear the testimony." they now separated to prepare for the sad ceremony; for whenever an appeal is made to law sorrow is almost certain to follow--even in a fairyland like oz. but it must be stated that the people of that land were generally so well-behaved that there was not a single lawyer amongst them, and it had been years since any ruler had sat in judgment upon an offender of the law. the crime of murder being the most dreadful crime of all, tremendous excitement prevailed in the emerald city when the news of eureka's arrest and trial became known. the wizard, when he returned to his own room, was exceedingly thoughtful. he had no doubt eureka had eaten his piglet, but he realized that a kitten cannot be depended upon at all times to act properly, since its nature is to destroy small animals and even birds for food, and the tame cat that we keep in our houses today is descended from the wild cat of the jungle--a very ferocious creature, indeed. the wizard knew that if dorothy's pet was found guilty and condemned to death the little girl would be made very unhappy; so, although he grieved over the piglet's sad fate as much as any of them, he resolved to save eureka's life. sending for the tin woodman the wizard took him into a corner and whispered: "my friend, it is your duty to defend the white kitten and try to save her, but i fear you will fail because eureka has long wished to eat a piglet, to my certain knowledge, and my opinion is that she has been unable to resist the temptation. yet her disgrace and death would not bring back the piglet, but only serve to make dorothy unhappy. so i intend to prove the kitten's innocence by a trick." he drew from his inside pocket one of the eight tiny piglets that were remaining and continued: "this creature you must hide in some safe place, and if the jury decides that eureka is guilty you may then produce this piglet and claim it is the one that was lost. all the piglets are exactly alike, so no one can dispute your word. this deception will save eureka's life, and then we may all be happy again." "i do not like to deceive my friends," replied the tin woodman; "still, my kind heart urges me to save eureka's life, and i can usually trust my heart to do the right thing. so i will do as you say, friend wizard." after some thought he placed the little pig inside his funnel-shaped hat, and then put the hat upon his head and went back to his room to think over his speech to the jury. chapter . the wizard performs another trick at three o'clock the throne room was crowded with citizens, men, women and children being eager to witness the great trial. princess ozma, dressed in her most splendid robes of state, sat in the magnificent emerald throne, with her jewelled sceptre in her hand and her sparkling coronet upon her fair brow. behind her throne stood the twenty-eight officers of her army and many officials of the royal household. at her right sat the queerly assorted jury--animals, animated dummies and people--all gravely prepared to listen to what was said. the kitten had been placed in a large cage just before the throne, where she sat upon her haunches and gazed through the bars at the crowds around her, with seeming unconcern. and now, at a signal from ozma, the woggle-bug arose and addressed the jury. his tone was pompous and he strutted up and down in an absurd attempt to appear dignified. "your royal highness and fellow citizens," he began; "the small cat you see a prisoner before you is accused of the crime of first murdering and then eating our esteemed ruler's fat piglet--or else first eating and then murdering it. in either case a grave crime has been committed which deserves a grave punishment." "do you mean my kitten must be put in a grave?" asked dorothy. "don't interrupt, little girl," said the woggle-bug. "when i get my thoughts arranged in good order i do not like to have anything upset them or throw them into confusion." "if your thoughts were any good they wouldn't become confused," remarked the scarecrow, earnestly. "my thoughts are always----" "is this a trial of thoughts, or of kittens?" demanded the woggle-bug. "it's a trial of one kitten," replied the scarecrow; "but your manner is a trial to us all." "let the public accuser continue," called ozma from her throne, "and i pray you do not interrupt him." "the criminal who now sits before the court licking her paws," resumed the woggle-bug, "has long desired to unlawfully eat the fat piglet, which was no bigger than a mouse. and finally she made a wicked plan to satisfy her depraved appetite for pork. i can see her, in my mind's eye----" "what's that?" asked the scarecrow. "i say i can see her in my mind's eye----" "the mind has no eye," declared the scarecrow. "it's blind." "your highness," cried the woggle-bug, appealing to ozma, "have i a mind's eye, or haven't i?" "if you have, it is invisible," said the princess. "very true," returned the woggle-bug, bowing. "i say i see the criminal, in my mind's eye, creeping stealthily into the room of our ozma and secreting herself, when no one was looking, until the princess had gone away and the door was closed. then the murderer was alone with her helpless victim, the fat piglet, and i see her pounce upon the innocent creature and eat it up----" "are you still seeing with your mind's eye?" enquired the scarecrow. "of course; how else could i see it? and we know the thing is true, because since the time of that interview there is no piglet to be found anywhere." [illustration: eureka in court.] "i suppose, if the cat had been gone, instead of the piglet, your mind's eye would see the piglet eating the cat," suggested the scarecrow. "very likely," acknowledged the woggle-bug. "and now, fellow citizens and creatures of the jury, i assert that so awful a crime deserves death, and in the case of the ferocious criminal before you--who is now washing her face--the death penalty should be inflicted nine times." there was great applause when the speaker sat down. then the princess spoke in a stern voice: "prisoner, what have you to say for yourself? are you guilty, or not guilty?" "why, that's for you to find out," replied eureka. "if you can prove i'm guilty, i'll be willing to die nine times, but a mind's eye is no proof, because the woggle-bug has no mind to see with." "never mind, dear," said dorothy. then the tin woodman arose and said: "respected jury and dearly beloved ozma, i pray you not to judge this feline prisoner unfeelingly. i do not think the innocent kitten can be guilty, and surely it is unkind to accuse a luncheon of being a murder. eureka is the sweet pet of a lovely little girl whom we all admire, and gentleness and innocence are her chief virtues. look at the kitten's intelligent eyes;" (here eureka closed her eyes sleepily) "gaze at her smiling countenance!" (here eureka snarled and showed her teeth) "mark the tender pose of her soft, padded little hands!" (here eureka bared her sharp claws and scratched at the bars of the cage.) "would such a gentle animal be guilty of eating a fellow creature? no; a thousand times, no!" "oh, cut it short," said eureka; "you've talked long enough." "i'm trying to defend you," remonstrated the tin woodman. "then say something sensible," retorted the kitten. "tell them it would be foolish for me to eat the piglet, because i had sense enough to know it would raise a row if i did. but don't try to make out i'm too innocent to eat a fat piglet if i could do it and not be found out. i imagine it would taste mighty good." "perhaps it would, to those who eat," remarked the tin woodman. "i myself, not being built to eat, have no personal experience in such matters. but i remember that our great poet once said: "'to eat is sweet when hunger's seat demands a treat of savory meat.' "take this into consideration, friends of the jury, and you will readily decide that the kitten is wrongfully accused and should be set at liberty." when the tin woodman sat down no one applauded him, for his arguments had not been very convincing and few believed that he had proved eureka's innocence. as for the jury, the members whispered to each other for a few minutes and then they appointed the hungry tiger their spokesman. the huge beast slowly arose and said: "kittens have no consciences, so they eat whatever pleases them. the jury believes the white kitten known as eureka is guilty of having eaten the piglet owned by princess ozma, and recommends that she be put to death in punishment of the crime." the judgment of the jury was received with great applause, although dorothy was sobbing miserably at the fate of her pet. the princess was just about to order eureka's head chopped off with the tin woodman's axe when that brilliant personage once more arose and addressed her. "your highness," said he, "see how easy it is for a jury to be mistaken. the kitten could not have eaten your piglet--for here it is!" he took off his funnel hat and from beneath it produced a tiny white piglet, which he held aloft that all might see it clearly. ozma was delighted and exclaimed, eagerly: "give me my pet, nick chopper!" and all the people cheered and clapped their hands, rejoicing that the prisoner had escaped death and been proved to be innocent. as the princess held the white piglet in her arms and stroked its soft hair she said: "let eureka out of the cage, for she is no longer a prisoner, but our good friend. where did you find my missing pet, nick chopper?" "in a room of the palace," he answered. "justice," remarked the scarecrow, with a sigh, "is a dangerous thing to meddle with. if you hadn't happened to find the piglet, eureka would surely have been executed." "but justice prevailed at the last," said ozma, "for here is my pet, and eureka is once more free." "i refuse to be free," cried the kitten, in a sharp voice, "unless the wizard can do his trick with eight piglets. if he can produce but seven, then this it not the piglet that was lost, but another one." "hush, eureka!" warned the wizard. "don't be foolish," advised the tin woodman, "or you may be sorry for it." "the piglet that belonged to the princess wore an emerald collar," said eureka, loudly enough for all to hear. "so it did!" exclaimed ozma. "this cannot be the one the wizard gave me." "of course not; he had nine of them, altogether," declared eureka; "and i must say it was very stingy of him not to let me eat just a few. but now that this foolish trial is ended, i will tell you what really became of your pet piglet." at this everyone in the throne room suddenly became quiet, and the kitten continued, in a calm, mocking tone of voice: "i will confess that i intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so i crept into the room where it was kept while the princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair. when ozma went away she closed the door and left her pet on the table. at once i jumped up and told the piglet not to make a fuss, for he would be inside of me in half a second; but no one can teach one of these creatures to be reasonable. instead of keeping still, so i could eat him comfortably, he trembled so with fear that he fell off the table into a big vase that was standing on the floor. the vase had a very small neck, and spread out at the top like a bowl. at first the piglet stuck in the neck of the vase and i thought i should get him, after all, but he wriggled himself through and fell down into the deep bottom part--and i suppose he's there yet." all were astonished at this confession, and ozma at once sent an officer to her room to fetch the vase. when he returned the princess looked down the narrow neck of the big ornament and discovered her lost piglet, just as eureka had said she would. there was no way to get the creature out without breaking the vase, so the tin woodman smashed it with his axe and set the little prisoner free. then the crowd cheered lustily and dorothy hugged the kitten in her arms and told her how delighted she was to know that she was innocent. "but why didn't you tell us at first?" she asked. "it would have spoiled the fun," replied the kitten, yawning. ozma gave the wizard back the piglet he had so kindly allowed nick chopper to substitute for the lost one, and then she carried her own into the apartments of the palace where she lived. and now, the trial being over, the good citizens of the emerald city scattered to their homes, well content with the day's amusement. chapter . zeb returns to the ranch eureka was much surprised to find herself in disgrace; but she was, in spite of the fact that she had not eaten the piglet. for the folks of oz knew the kitten had tried to commit the crime, and that only an accident had prevented her from doing so; therefore even the hungry tiger preferred not to associate with her. eureka was forbidden to wander around the palace and was made to stay in confinement in dorothy's room; so she began to beg her mistress to send her to some other place where she could enjoy herself better. dorothy was herself anxious to get home, so she promised eureka they would not stay in the land of oz much longer. the next evening after the trial the little girl begged ozma to allow her to look in the enchanted picture, and the princess readily consented. she took the child to her room and said: "make your wish, dear, and the picture will show the scene you desire to behold." then dorothy found, with the aid of the enchanted picture, that uncle henry had returned to the farm in kansas, and she also saw that both he and aunt em were dressed in mourning, because they thought their little niece had been killed by the earthquake. "really," said the girl, anxiously, "i must get back as soon as poss'ble to my own folks." zeb also wanted to see his home, and although he did not find anyone mourning for him, the sight of hugson's ranch in the picture made him long to get back there. "this is a fine country, and i like all the people that live in it," he told dorothy. "but the fact is, jim and i don't seem to fit into a fairyland, and the old horse has been begging me to go home again ever since he lost the race. so, if you can find a way to fix it, we'll be much obliged to you." "ozma can do it, easily," replied dorothy. "tomorrow morning i'll go to kansas and you can go to californy." [illustration: "i'm much obliged for all your kindness."] that last evening was so delightful that the boy will never forget it as long as he lives. they were all together (except eureka) in the pretty rooms of the princess, and the wizard did some new tricks, and the scarecrow told stories, and the tin woodman sang a love song in a sonorous, metallic voice, and everybody laughed and had a good time. then dorothy wound up tik-tok and he danced a jig to amuse the company, after which the yellow hen related some of her adventures with the nome king in the land of ev. the princess served delicious refreshments to those who were in the habit of eating, and when dorothy's bed time arrived the company separated after exchanging many friendly sentiments. next morning they all assembled for the final parting, and many of the officials and courtiers came to look upon the impressive ceremonies. dorothy held eureka in her arms and bade her friends a fond good-bye. "you must come again, some time," said the little wizard; and she promised she would if she found it possible to do so. "but uncle henry and aunt em need me to help them," she added, "so i can't ever be very long away from the farm in kansas." ozma wore the magic belt; and, when she had kissed dorothy farewell and had made her wish, the little girl and her kitten disappeared in a twinkling. "where is she?" asked zeb, rather bewildered by the suddenness of it. "greeting her uncle and aunt in kansas, by this time," returned ozma, with a smile. then zeb brought out jim, all harnessed to the buggy, and took his seat. "i'm much obliged for all your kindness," said the boy, "and very grateful to you for saving my life and sending me home again after all the good times i've had. i think this is the loveliest country in the world; but not being fairies jim and i feel we ought to be where we belong--and that's at the ranch. good-bye, everybody!" he gave a start and rubbed his eyes. jim was trotting along the well-known road, shaking his ears and whisking his tail with a contented motion. just ahead of them were the gates of hugson's ranch, and uncle hugson now came out and stood with uplifted arms and wide open mouth, staring in amazement. "goodness gracious! it's zeb--and jim, too!" he exclaimed. "where in the world have you been, my lad?" "why, in the world, uncle," answered zeb, with a laugh. the end [illustration] [frontispiece: missing from book] the boy ranchers or _solving the mystery at diamond x_ by willard f. baker author of "the boy ranchers in camp," "the boy ranchers on the trail," etc. _illustrated_ new york cupples & leon company the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker mo. cloth. frontispiece the boy ranchers or solving the mystery at diamond x the boy ranchers in camp or the water fight at diamond x the boy ranchers on the trail or the diamond x after cattle rustlers _other volumes in preparation_ cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by copples & leon company the boy ranchers printed in u. s. a. contents chapter i "some ridin'!" ii a call fob help iii a mysterious search iv suspicions v hitting the trail vi the rustlers vii a cry in the night viii "the professor'" ix "what does it mean?" x del pinzo xi bad business xii riding herd xiii the attempt foiled xiv the stampede xv lost xvi the vision xvii the night camp xviii queer operations xix prisoners xx the diamond x brand xxi the escape xxii back to the ranch xxiii closing in xxiv the fight xxv the triceratops the boy ranchers chapter i "some ridin'!" two riders slumped comfortably in their saddles as the ponies slowly ambled along. the sun was hot, and the dust stifling, a cloud of it forming a floating screen about the horsemen and progressing with them down the trail. one of the riders, a tall, lanky and weather-beaten cowboy, taking a long breath, raised his voice in what he doubtless intended to be a song. it was, however, more a cry of anguish as he bellowed forth: "leave me alone with a rope an' a saddle, fold my spurs under my haid! give me a can of them sweet, yaller peaches, 'cause why? my true-love is daid!" "bad as all that; is it, slim?" asked the other, who, now that he had partly emerged from the cloud of dust, could be seen as a lad of about sixteen. he, like the other, older rider, was attired cowboy fashion. "eh? what's that, bud?" inquired the lanky one, seeming to arouse as if from a day dream. "see suthin'?" "nope. i was just sort of remarking about that sad song, and----" "oh, shucks! _that_ wa'n't sad!" declared slim degnan, foreman of the diamond x ranch. "guess i wa'n't really payin' much attention to what i was singin', but if you want a real sad lament----" "no, i don't!" laughed bud merkel, whose father was the owner of diamond x ranch. "not that i blame you for feeling sort of down and out," he added. "oh, i don't feel _bad_, bud!" came the hasty rejoinder. "we did have more'n a ride than i figgered on, but i don't aim to put up no kick. it's all in the day's work. you don't seem to mind it." "i should say not! we had a bully time. i'd spend another night out in the open if we had to. i like it!" "yes, you seem to take to it like a duck does to water," added slim. "but it's a shame to mention ducks in the same chapter with this atmosphere! zow hippy! but it's hot an' dusty an' thirsty! come along there, you old hunk of jerked beef!" he added to his pony, giving a gentle reminder with the spurs and pulling on the reins. the pony made a feeble attempt to increase its gait, but it was no more than an attempt. the animal that was ridden by bud--a pinto--started to follow the example of the other. "regular mud-turtle gallop," commented the foreman. "they'll go faster when they top the rise, and see the corral," commented bud. "an' smell water! that's what i want, a long, sizzling, sozzling drink of water!" cried slim, whose name fitted him better than did his clothes. then he broke forth again with: "oh, leave me alone with a rope an' a saddle----" slowly the riders plodded along. the sun seemed to grow more hot and the dust more thick. as they approached a hill, beyond which lay the corral and ranch buildings of diamond x, bud drew rein, thus halting his pony. "let's give 'em a breather before we hit the hill," he suggested to the foreman. "i'm agreeable, son," was the foreman's easy comment as he slung one leg over the saddle and sat sideways. slim degnan and bud had ridden off to look for a break in one of the many long lines of wire fences that kept the stock of diamond x somewhat within bounds, and it had taken longer to locate and repair the break than they had counted on. they had been obliged to remain out all night--not that this was unusual, only they had not exactly prepared for it--and, in consequence, did not have all the ordinary comforts. but, as bud had said, he had not minded it. however, the ponies were rather used up, and the riders in the same condition, and it was with equal feelings of relief that they came within sight of the last hill that lay between them and the ranch. "well, might as well mosey along," spoke slim, at length. "sooner we get some water inside us, an' th' ponies, th' better we'll all be." "i reckon," agreed bud. "but i don't believe zip foster could have done the job any quicker than we did." "who?" queried slim, with a quizzical look at his companion. "zip foster," answered bud. "never heard of him. what outfit does he ride for?" asked the foreman, but he saved bud the embarrassment of answer by suddenly rising in his saddle and looking off in the distance. bud had his own reasons for not answering that seemingly natural question, and he was glad of the diversion, though he was not at once aware of what had caused it. but he followed the direction of the foreman's gaze, and, like him, saw arising in the still air, about two miles away, a thin thread of smoke--a mere wisp, as though it had dangled down from some fleecy cloud. but the smoke was ascending and was not the beginning of a fog descending. "can't be any of our boys," murmured slim. "they aren't out on round-up yet. an' it's too early for grub." "indians?" questioned bud. sometimes the bucks from a neighboring reservation felt the call of the wild, and slipped out to have a forbidden feast on some cattleman's stock, only to be brought up with a round turn by the government soldiers. "don't think so," remarked slim. "they don't have much chance t' practice their wiles, but, with all that, they know enough not t' make a fire that smokes. must be some strangers. if it's any of them ornery sheep men," he exclaimed, "i'd feel like----" "they wouldn't dare!" exclaimed bud, for being the son of a cattle-ranchman he had come to dislike and despise the sheep herders, whose flocks ate so closely as to ruin the feeding range for steers. the sheep would crop grass down to the very roots, setting back its growth for many months. "no, i don't reckon it would be sheepers," murmured slim. "wa'al, mebby they know at the ranch. we'll be headin' home now, i guess. come on there, you old tumble-bug!" he called to his horse, and then he raised his voice and roared: "leave me alone with a rope an' a saddle, fold my spurs under my haid! give me a can of them sweet, yaller peaches, 'cause why? my true-love is daid!" slim's horse started off on a lope, freshened by the rest, and bud's followed. they topped the rise, and, then as the animals came within sight and smell of their stables, and caught the whiff of ever-welcome water, they dashed down the slope toward the green valley in which nestled the corral and buildings of diamond x ranch. "if i wasn't so doggoned tired," said slim to bud as they prepared to pull up on reaching the corral, "i'd ride over after supper, and see what that smoke was. i don't perzactly like it." "maybe i'll go," offered bud. "if it _should_ happen to be sheepers, dad'll want to know it." "he shore will, son. but--zow hippy! what's going on here?" cried slim. he pointed toward the corral of the ranch--a fenced-off field where the cowboys kept their string of ponies when the animals were not in use. here, too, spare animals were held against the time of need. just now a crowd of cowboys surrounded this corral. some were perched on the rails of the fence, and others leaned over. some were swinging their hats as though in encouragement, and one was rapidly emptying his gun on the defenseless air, which was further torn and shattered by wild yells. as the two wayfarers neared the corral, there dashed from among the cattle punchers surrounding it an exceedingly fat cowboy, whose face, wreathed in smiles, was also wet with perspiration. he swung his hat around in a circle and yelled shrilly: "some ridin', boys! some ridin'! go to it!" "what's the matter, babe?" asked slim, of his assistant who had thus given vent to his feelings. "go look! it's so good i don't want to spoil it!" laughed the fat one. "two tenderfoots--oh, my--hole me up, somebody!" he begged. "some ridin'!" bud had a glimpse, in the corral, of a youth about his own age, flying rapidly around the enclosure on the back of a bucking bronco. the lad was holding on with both arms around the horn of the saddle. "get him off!" cried bud in a high pitched voice, as he recognized the pony to which the strange lad was clinging. "tartar will kill him! get him off!" chapter ii a call for help without waiting for his pony to come to a stop, bud fairly flung himself out of the saddle, and with his rope, or lariat, coiled on his arm he ran toward the corral. "what's matter?" demanded babe milton, the assistant foreman, pausing in his repeated exclamations of: "some ridin'! some ridin'!" "don't you fellows know any better than to let a tenderfoot ride tartar?" cried bud. "that horse is next door to an outlaw, and you wouldn't get on him yourself, babe!" "you said an earful!" came the quick response. "i wouldn't!" "then how'd you come to let this fellow on? who is he, anyhow?" cried bud, as he slipped through a hunch of cowboys who opened to let him pass. "fresh tenderfoot," some one said. "he would ride!" added another. "says he's your cousin," added a third ranch hand. "my _cousin_!" cried bud. then he did not stop to do any more talking. he leaped the fence of the corral, and, as he did so he became aware of another stranger--a tenderfoot like the lad on tartar--standing within the fenced-off place. this lad, who bore all the marks of a newly-arrived easterner, was rather short and stout--not to say fat. he stood beside an ancient and venerable cow pony, which was never ridden when there was anything else in the corral to throw a saddle on. and this lad was gazing with fear-widened eyes at the figure of the other lad. "get off, nort! get off!" cried this stout lad. "don't tell him to do that!" ordered bud sharply. "he'll break his neck sure! stick, and i'll rope tartar!" he shouted, trying to make his voice heard above the thunder of the feet of the half-maddened horse, and the now somewhat subdued shouts of the cowboys. bud merkel knew his business. he had not lived all his sixteen years on his father's ranch not to learn how to throw a skillful rope, and he now took his position just within the corral, and at a place where he could intercept the dashing outlaw, tartar, as the animal came around again with the flapping lad clinging to his back. "can you manage, bud?" called slim, from his cross seat in his saddle, where he was looking on. "i'll get him!" was the grim answer. many thoughts were shooting through the mind of bud merkel, not the least of which was the remark of babe milton to the effect that the lad on tartar was bud's cousin. "then the other must be, too," thought bud as he swung his rope and directed a quick glance at the fat lad now hugging the inner rails of the corral fence. "but how'd they get here, and what made him try that outlaw?" however, this was no time to spend in asking oneself questions. there was need of action, and it came a moment later. hissing and swishing through the air, the coils of bud's lariat fell around the neck of the plunging, rearing, running tartar. in another instant bud had taken a turn or two around a post, and, by carefully applying a snubbing pressure, the pony was brought to a stop. "get down--quick!" ordered bud when the horse was quiet enough to permit of this. and as the other lad obeyed, and shook himself together, limping over toward bud the latter asked: "are you hurt?" "not a bit," was the laughing answer. "i could 'a' stuck on. he couldn't throw me." "don't you fool yourself!" exclaimed bud, while some of the cowboys went into the corral and loosened his lariat from the neck of the now subdued animal. tartar, once the offending stranger was no longer on his back, seemed normal. "don't you fool yourself! you couldn't have stayed on a second longer." "betcher i could!" came the quick response. "if you'll rope him again----" "cut it out, nort!" came from the fat lad, who looked enough like the daring rider to be his brother, as, indeed, he was. "oh, let me alone, dick!" snapped the other. "i can ride!" "some ridin'! oh, boy, some ridin'!" murmured the fat assistant foreman of diamond x, while his companions grinned. "you may know how to ride an ordinary horse," admitted bud with a smile, as he coiled the rope which one of the men handed to him. "but tartar isn't a regular pony. he's an outlaw, and even del pinzo won't take a chance on him. i don't see how they come to let you," he added, gazing somewhat reproachfully at the assembled cowboys. they had begun to slink away, for they recognized the pseudo-authority held by the son of the ranch owner. still they could justify their action, somewhat. "he _wanted_ to ride," declared babe milton. "would have it so, and we roped tartar for him. i told him your pa wouldn't like it if he was here, but----" "i reckon you thought you'd see some fun," said bud, half smiling, for though he realized that the strange lad had been in some danger, he also realized that the cowboys, fond as they were of fun and practical jokes, would not have allowed the matter to go too far. "it's up to me!" declared the slim lad, trying to brush some of the dust and horse hair from his clothes. "'tisn't their fault at all." "good kid," murmured some of the cowboys, glad to be thus vindicated. "i told him to keep off," said the fat lad, following bud and the daring rider from the corral. "i told him to pick a quiet horse, but he said he wanted a bucker." "he shore got it," chuckled slim degnan, as he ambled along. "he shore did!" "well, i'm glad you're not hurt," exclaimed bud. "i guess you're my cousins; aren't you?" he asked, holding out his brown, muscular hand to grasp the rather thinner and whiter palm of the lad who had been on tartar. "yes, i'm nort," was the response. "this is dick, my brother. we're going to stay all summer--if you'll keep us," he added, with a whimsical smile. "and after this i'll let you pick my horses for me." "it'll be safer, until you learn to ride," said bud. "i mean learn to ride western cow ponies," he added quickly, for he did not want to assume this other lad could not ride. "i guess i don't know so much as i thought i did," confessed nort. "though i did ride a lot at the academy." "well, come on to the house," invited bud. "dad's away, but mother's there. have you met her?" "no," answered nort. "we just got here. you see we came ahead of time. happened to meet one of your wagons over at the depot, and rode out here in it. i sort of lost my head when i struck the ranch and wanted a ride right off the bat. i had it, too!" he added with a smile. "dad said something about you moseying out this way before snow flew," spoke bud, as he walked with his cousins toward the main ranch house, which stood in the midst of a number of low red buildings, itself of the same structure and color. "but i didn't expect you so soon, or i'd 'a' been over to the station." "it was all right--we didn't want any fussing," said nort. "and, as i say, we started sooner than we expected. didn't even write." "no, i guess you didn't," admitted bud. "dad sort of mentioned, casual like, that you'd be along sooner or later, but he didn't get any word from you recently." "well, we're here, anyhow," spoke dick, the fat youth, with a sigh of evident relief, as he looked back toward the corral. "i just got in myself," said bud. "been away two days mending fence. had to sleep out one night, and we weren't exactly prepared for it. but i'm mighty glad you've come! we can have some corking times. i'll get you ponies that'll be--er--better to ride than tartar," he said, substituting the word "better" for that of "safer" which, at first, he had intended to use. "that's good!" exclaimed dick. "i don't claim to be any rider, though i can stick to the saddle once i land there," and he shot a side glance at his more impulsive brother. "oh, i could 'a' stuck if there'd been a _saddle_," declared nort. "that was the trouble. i'll ride tartar yet!" he cried. "better go slow," advised bud. "but there's mother in the door now, and i can smell grub. she'll be surprised to see you." "who's that girl?" asked dick, as he noticed one standing beside the stout, motherly-looking woman in the doorway of the ranch house. "that's my sister nell," remarked bud. "nell! say, she has grown!" cried nort. "i didn't know she was that big!" "oh, this is a good country for growing up in!" laughed bud. "here's nort and dick, mother!" he called. "well, land sakes! i never expected to see _you_ two!" cried mrs. merkel, hastily wiping off her mouth with the corner of her apron, preparatory to kissing her nephews. "land! but you've grown!" "not any more than nell!" declared dick, as he kissed his aunt and girl cousin, an example gladly followed by nort. for once the fat lad had beaten his slim brother to it. "why didn't you write? we didn't know you were coming for a month yet! where's your trunks? how'd you get here? come in and wash up and we'll have supper!" all this mrs. merkel showered on the two "tenderfeet" in a breath, at the same time fairly "shooing" them into the house as a motherly hen might direct her chickens toward the feeding coop. "oh, we just pulled up stakes and lit out," laughed nort. "we got tired of the east. oh, but it's great here!" he exclaimed, as he looked back before entering the house, and saw, through the clear air, the wonderful blue sky, and, in the distance, a range of mountains. "it's just what i dreamed it would be," he softly murmured. "glad you like it! we'll have some swell times!" voiced bud. "but you want to get those duds off," he added, as he glanced at his cousin's clothes. "we sure do!" declared nick. "we've got outfits in our trunks. they're in the wagon. maybe they aren't just the proper clothes for a ranch, but they're old things----" "the older the better!" interrupted bud, and he was about to follow his cousins inside when nell exclaimed: "some one is coming! look!" they all turned to observe a solitary horseman riding at top speed for the group of ranch buildings. he came from the direction where bud and the foreman had seen the slim wisp of smoke about an hour before, and as he rode, the man shouted above the thundering thuds of his horse's hoofs: "help! help! can't you send help!" chapter iii a mysterious search nort and dick shannon, bud's "city cousins," seemed to realize, as did the young rancher, his mother and sister, that something was wrong. prepared as nort and dick were for strange and sensational happenings in the west, they sensed that this was out of the ordinary. the solitary rider had also attracted the attention of the cowboys who, the excitement at the corral being over, had turned toward their bunk house to prepare for the evening meal. slim degnan, the foreman, babe, his assistant, and one or two others started forward as if to intercept the horseman. but a cowboy on foot is like a sailor off the deck--out of his element. they wore high-heeled shoes--boots made especially for the use of spurs, and they were not capable of rapid progress except on their steeds. the lone rider was past them in a flash, turning into the lane that led toward the ranch house, where bud and the others could not be seen, having turned at the call for help. "what's the matter of him--locoed?" asked babe. "looks that way," murmured slim. "but ma merkel will know how to handle him, and bud has his gun. still, i don't know but we'd better mosey up that way, so as to sort of back the boy up, as long as his dad's away." "my idea coincides," murmured babe. "we'll prospect along up there," he called to the other cowboys, some of whom seemed to show a desire to rush to a possible rescue. "it'll be all right." by the time the foreman and his assistant had reached the porch on which stood the two tenderfeet eastern lads, with bud, his mother and sister, the lone horseman had dismounted, not with any degree of skill, however, but slipping off as though greatly fatigued, or rendered limp from fright. "can you send help to him?" he gasped, pointing back in the direction whence he had come. "if you don't they may kill him! oh, such men! such men!" "kill who? what's the matter? what sort of help do you need?" asked bud quickly, while nort and dick looked at the excited man. he bore none of the marks of the west. his garb was of the east as his riding had been, though he sat a fairly good saddle, or he never could have ridden at the speed he did. but he had a good horse. even dick and nort knew enough about animals to tell that. the pony, his sides heaving and his nostrils distended, gave this not altogether mute evidence of his race against time. "it's professor wright," came the panting answer. "he's off there--with his prospecting party. i'm his assistant!" "i thought he looked like a professor," murmured dick to nort. "keep still!" sharply commanded nort. "i am professor j. elwell blair," went on the still greatly excited rider, "an assistant to professor wright. we are camped about three miles from here, over there," and he waved his hand toward where bud and slim, on their homeward ride, had seen the wisp of smoke. "some mexicans threaten to attack us," went on the man who called himself professor blair. "in fact they had already started when professor wright bade me ride for help. we knew there was a ranch over in this direction. can you send us help?" he asked anxiously. "sure!" exclaimed bud. "oh, if your father were only here!" murmured mrs. merkel. "our boys are enough!" declared nell, with sparkling eyes. "i wish i might go!" she added. "can't i?" "no indeed!" declared her mother. "the idea! you must take slim with you!" she called after bud, for he was already half way down the lane leading to the corral, calling on professor blair to follow, and shouting to nort and dick: "come on, if you want to see some lively doings!" bud invited. "we sure do!" yelled nort. "hadn't we better change our clothes?" asked the slower dick. "change nothin'!" cried nort. "leave your coat off if you want to! i'm going to shed mine!" and shed it he did, dropping it on the ground as he leaped forward. "what is it, bud?" asked slim degnan, as he and babe, on their way to the house, met the fleeing young rancher, who had even distanced professor blair, though the latter had again mounted his tired horse. "don't know--exactly," came the answer. "he's a stranger," and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder back toward the professor. "he and a party are camped over in the hills--where we saw the smoke a while back," he explained further. "he says a bunch of greasers are trying to do up his boss. wants help!" "wa'al, he come to th' right place," remarked babe milton briefly, as, with more speed than you would have believed he possessed, he ran toward the corral. already several cowboys, sensing that something was wrong, had begun to catch and saddle enough ponies to provide mounts for bud, the foreman and his fat helper. "give my cousins baldy and gimp!" cried bud to one of the cowboys who were in the corral. "you can ride those, even if you haven't got your old clothes on," he added. "lively now!" cried the foreman, assuming, as was his right, command of the little cavalcade. in less time than it takes to tell it, they were riding along the trail, directed by professor blair, whose horse seemed, somehow, to have recovered its wind sufficiently to keep pace with the fresher steeds. "are you all right, fellows?" bud called back to his cousins, as he, himself, spurred ahead alongside slim and babe. nort and dick formed the rear guard with the professor. "sure!" declared nort. "oh, boy! a fight the first day we get here, dick!" he yelled to his brother. "don't be too sure," called hack bud. "these greasers may hit the trail as soon as we head into sight." "greasers are mexicans, aren't they?" asked dick. "yes," answered professor blair, who rode between the two easterners. "we had to engage some, and i believe a few indians, also, in our prospecting work. our own men are all right, but we were attacked by some strange mexicans and indians--or we were about to be attacked, when i rode off for help." "what started the row?" asked bud. the question seemed to embarrass professor blair. "the mexicans seem to think we have something of value, or at least know where valuables may be," he answered. "i believe they think we are after desert gold, and though we have found some----" "you have found _gold_!" cried bud. "no! no! it is a false rumor!" hastily declared the professor. "but professor wright has been obliged to keep secret the object of his search, and perhaps the mystery surrounding it has been misconstrued by the ignorant men. they declare we are after gold, but it is something far more valuable, though i am not allowed to disclose what----" he was interrupted by the sound of distant shooting, followed by faint yells. bud merkel clapped spurs to his horse and shot forward, while professor blair excitedly exclaimed: "oh, they are killing him! they are killing him!" chapter iv suspicions with distinct feelings of joy, and no alarm whatever, nort and dick watched the hands of slim and babe slide toward their holsters, where nestled their . guns. bud had taken his off, on reaching the house, and his two "city" cousins found themselves wishing that they wore those ugly but effective weapons. it was not that bud was a "gun man," nor was either the ranch foreman or his fat assistant. but as the classical saying has it: "you don't always need a gun out west, but when you do need it you need it mighty bad, and mighty sudden!" the guns, by which are meant revolvers of heavy calibre, were used for many other purposes than shooting at human beings. they were almost a necessity for a lone rider to signal for help, or indicate the need of certain action, and more than one cowboy owed his life to his gun, either in turning aside a stampede of steers, or against some human or animal enemy. it had been the hope of norton, and richard shannon, as soon they learned they were to spend some time at their uncle's ranch, to "pack a gun," but their advent and arrival had been so sudden, and their time so crowded since reaching diamond x, that they had to dispense with these luxuries, or necessities, according to the way you regard them. but the two eastern lads grinned happily at one another as they galloped along, and saw the foreman and his fat helper with their heavy weapons out of their holsters. "left mine home!" muttered bud, as his hand, too, instinctively sought the leather sheath. professor blair, as he had called himself, did not seemed to be armed. "they shore is some row going on!" exclaimed slim, as he clapped spurs to his already well-doing horse, and shot ahead of the others. "how many in your bunch?" he called to the professor. "there are four of us--professor wright, myself and two helpers, edward newton and silas thorpe," was the answer. "but the other day we engaged some mexicans and burros, so our party is now about eight." "and how many are trying to rush you?" asked the foreman, slightly checking his horse to accommodate its pace to the slower gait of the professor's animal. "i don't know. there seemed about a dozen who were threatening professor wright when he told me to go for help." "not such bad odds," murmured bud. "is it a real fight?" asked nort, his eyes sparkling. "sounds like it," commented the western ranch lad. "but we'll have to lay low. no guns," he added regretfully. dick turned to look back toward the ranch buildings, now out of sight owing to the uneven nature of the country. he might have been calculating whether it would be possible to go back and get weapons. but he said nothing on this score, though he did let out an exclamation: "there's another bunch coming along the path." "don't say _path_--it's a _trail_," corrected bud with a smile. "and that's some of our bunch," he added. "cowboys from diamond x. guess mother sent them after us, thinking we'd tackled too big a job alone." "and it does sound like a lively fracas," observed babe milton, wiping his wet and glistening face with the big handkerchief that adorned his neck, and the neck of every cowboy that nort and dick had so far observed since coming to the "cow country." these sometimes gaudy handkerchiefs were not mere ornaments. they served the same purpose to which babe was then devoting his, and as the eastern lads learned later, the silk or cotton squares formed very effective protection to nose and mouth while riding range in the thick, heavy dust stirred up by the feet of thousands of cattle. so, like the "chaps," the high-heeled boots, the handkerchiefs and the guns, each part of the equipment of a cowboy, has its use. "hi! they's some shootin'!" cried slim, as he spurred forward again, having learned what he wished of the professor. "oh, don't let them kill him!" begged the scientist. "it is all a mistake--thinking we are after gold--but they'll make any excuse to try to rob us and get the secret." "what secret?" asked bud, but just then a renewed outburst of shots, punctured by shrill yells, told of the need of action as against words. "they'll kill him! they'll kill him!" moaned professor blair. "'tain't all one sided!" declared slim degnan to bud, nort and dick, as the three boys managed to get their ponies on a line with the sturdy beast of the foreman. "there's two sets of shootin' goin' on there!" the sound of fighting, and yells, whether of defiance or fear, increased in volume now, and came from a little glade at the base of the wooded foothills, which formed a sort of stepping stone to the grim mountains behind them, along the base of which flowed a river. these hills, or part of them, marked one of the limits of diamond x ranch, though at another point the holdings of bud's father extended well to the summit of one of the mountains. urging on their horses by heels and voices, the little party swept into the glade, following a path, or "trail," as it should be called. this trail had been worn by countless cattle going to the river to drink, and the feet of the ponies now clattered along it. a moment later, swinging around a little clump of trees, greasewoods and sagebush, bud and his cousins saw a sight which thrilled them through and though, though perhaps bud was more accustomed to such stirring scenes than were the city lads. in the midst of an encampment of tents, several men were kneeling down, using packs and baggage as a barricade. they were firing over this line of defense at objects unseen, but which, as the white puffs of smoke showed every now and then, were easily guessed to be humans, with more or less sinister motives. there was a regular fusillade, as the party of cowboys approached, and in addition a series of sharp and wild yells which, now that the scene was reached, could be heard as arising from the underbrush outside the camp. the attackers of professor wright, for he later proved to be the owner of the camp, were using their voices as well as their weapons to intimidate the defenders. "greasers and some indians!" cried slim, as he swept on along the trail. "come on, boys!" he yelled and instantly his gun was in action, as was that of babe milton. "oh, why didn't i bring mine?" mourned bud. "tough luck!" exclaimed nort. the advent of the rescue party had an instant effect. no sooner had slim and babe begun firing than there was silence on the part of the attackers. a few scattering shots were fired, one or two more wild yells smote the air and then there was more silence. "that settles 'em," grimly observed slim, as he began to reload his weapon, an example followed by babe. at the same time those in the little camp, who had had their backs turned toward the rescue party, swung about with evident signs of relief on their faces. a tall, slim man, with prematurely gray hair, stepped forward, resting the butt of his rifle on the ground as he surveyed the newcomers. then his eyes sought those of professor blair. "i see that you found help," he remarked quietly. "and just in time, too. they were about to rush us, i fear." "i'm glad we came in time," the other scientist remarked. "i don't know your names, gentlemen," he went on, turning to bud and the others, "but this is my chief, professor hendryx wright." "i shall take some other occasion to thank you," spoke professor wright, with a smile that included all the rescuers from slim to dick. "but just now one of my men, possibly two, need attention from a doctor. they have been shot." "better let me have a look at 'em," suggested slim. "i'm not a doctor, but that brand isn't plenty out here. if they're too bad, we can take your men to the ranch. where are they?" professor wright waved his hand toward one of the tents, and while slim dismounted to make his way there, bud and his cousins had time to look about them. in addition to four white men, which included the two professors, and two who were apparently assistants, there were several mexicans or half-breeds. these were all armed and had, in common with their white employers, been firing at the attacking party. of the latter no glimpse had been had. they seemed to have vanished into the forest with the approach of the rescuers. "do you have things like this happen every day, bud?" asked nort, with sparkling eyes, as the foreman disappeared into the tent where the wounded men lay. "no, indeed. this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you fellows. i didn't even know this camp was here." "what do you reckon it is?" asked dick. "give it up," answered bud. "i reckon even zip foster couldn't make anything of this." "who's zip foster?" asked nort. "that's what a lot of us would give a deal to know, son," chuckled babe, who was rapidly making a survey of the camp. "he's a secret friend of bud's, an'----" "oh, cut it out!" exclaimed bud, and even his tan did not altogether hide the blood that surged into his face. while the two professors were conversing together in low tones, and their helpers, including two white men (evidently the ed newton and silas thorp spoken of by professor blair) were putting to rights the somewhat disrupted camp, slim, the foreman, came from the tent. "they're not much hurt," he declared. "only flesh wounds, but they ought to be treated with some dope i've got at the ranch house. they can ride over, and i'll fix 'em up as best i can," he offered. "you are very kind," murmured professor wright. "but it might be dangerous for them to do so." "dangerous!" exclaimed slim. "yes, i mean it might inflame their wounds." "oh! yes, it might," agreed the foreman after a moment of thought. "wa'al, i can send one of the boys back for the medicine. here they come now," he added, as, with whoops of delight at the prospect of a fight, a troop of other cowboys from the diamond x ranch rode up. as bud had surmised, his mother had sent them after the advance party. "what's the row?" cried "yellin' kid" watson, as he unlimbered his gun. it needed but one utterance of his to establish his nickname. he shouted almost every word he used. "all over," said slim, succinctly. "don't know just what it's about, but it's all over." the newcomers rode their horses into the camp, and yellin' kid, whose animal was a bit restive, nearly brought down one of the small tents. as it swayed, a flap opening because of the breaking of one of the ropes, professor wright sprang forward with a sharp cry. "don't go in there! no one must enter that tent!" sharply commanded the scientist. "i wasn't aimin' to," remarked yellin' kid somewhat tartly and in rather grieved tones. "come out of that, you soap footer!" he cried to his steed. "what do you mean, slippin' all over creation?" he backed his animal away, but professor wright, summoning to his side professor blair, quickly fastened the tent shut again, paying no heed during this operation, to the cowboys. "seems mighty much afraid we'll see something we hadn't a right to," commented bud to his cousins. "yes, he does act queer," agreed dick. "suspicious, i call it!" whispered nort. he was impulsive, and much more prone, than was his brother, to ascribe motives to others. "maybe, after all, they have gold in there!" he said. chapter v hitting the trail bud merkel shook his head as nort shannon offered this possible explanation of the action of professor wright. "never's been any gold found in these regions all the years i've lived here," he said. "there's always a first time," countered nort, while the cowboys gazed about them, talking in low voices. "it must be something else," said bud. "this is a prospecting bunch, it's easy to see that, but they're not after gold. these two professors are from some eastern college, i take it," he went on. "they may be after specimens of plants, or stones. using their vacation this way. i've heard of it being done." "that's right!" chimed in dick. "two of the professors from our academy spent all one summer in the adirondacks, getting material for a new geology book they were writing. maybe that's what these professors are doing," he suggested. "then why are they keeping so blamed secret about it for?" asked nort, impulsively. "there's no crime in getting rock specimens, or in making up a new geology, only i wouldn't want to do it," he finished with a grin. "i get enough of study all winter. we came out here to have fun!" "and we've started in right!" declared his brother. "fun and excitement." "i reckon we'll have to let these fellows have their way," murmured bud. "they aren't on our ranch, and this is a free country. they may have permission from the double z people to look for specimens here." "is this double z land?" asked dick. "right about here is," answered bud. "our line runs over there, and back where we came from," and he motioned toward the ranch buildings. "better be hitting the home trail too, soon," he commented. "it'll be dark in no time, and i'm as hungry as they make 'em!" "you said something then!" declared babe. "i don't see that we can do anything more here--they don't appear to want us overly much," he added. perhaps professor wright was aware that a little feeling had arisen over his hasty warning to yellin' kid, for he hastened toward the foreman and said: "i shall be most grateful to you if you will send over something for the two wounded men. i don't like to let them go to your place, hurt as they are, and i don't like to deplete my force. those rascals may return." "that's right," agreed slim. "wa'al, i reckon we can accommodate you. i'll send one of the boys back with a bottle of antiseptic stuff right after grub. wash out the wounds, pour some of this stuff on and bind 'em up. the men'll be all right. greasers don't mind a little thing like a bullet through the arm or leg. you know 'em?" "no, i only hired them three days ago to help with our camp outfit. some of my men deserted, and i have reason to believe it was some of them who led the attack on us." "any special reason why they should shoot you up?" asked slim. "that is if it isn't askin' a personal question," he added, mindful of the reception accorded yellin' kid. "it is all due to a foolish mistake," said professor wright, with a quick glance at his assistant, professor blair. "we are here on a scientific mission, as perhaps professor blair told you, and a few of the deluded men i engaged to help me make some excavations imagine i am after gold. that is far from the truth, for----" "it is far more valuable than gold!" exclaimed professor blair. "eh--well, yes, in a way," said the chief, as bud caught a look of warning flashed at the man who had ridden for help. "but that is neither here nor there," went on professor wright. "the point of the matter is that i had to discharge the leader of my uneducated helpers because he persisted in trying to find out what we were after. he took some of the men with him, necessitating the hiring of others. then the climax came this afternoon, when, unexpectedly, we were attacked. in my wanderings i had seen your ranch buildings, and i ventured to hope you would send us help when i dispatched my assistant to you." "wa'al, we did what we could," said slim. "of course you know your own business best, but i wouldn't take any chances with greasers. they may come back, if you have any valuables here." "we have," said professor wright, with a glance at the tent, the flaps of which he had tightly closed. "but i do not fancy they will again attack us soon. we wounded some of them before you came, and we shall now be on our guard. if i can have the antiseptics for those two men, i shall be grateful." "i'll send 'em over later," promised slim, and then he called to the cowboys: "don't 'pear to be much further need of us, boys. let's mosey back!" and while the cavalcade was on the trail leading to diamond x ranch, bud's cousins had a chance to tell him how it was they had come west so unexpectedly. they had long been promised by their parents that they might spend a summer in the great open, but, for one reason or another, the visit had been postponed from time to time. but about a week back mr. shannon found that his business called him to south america. he decided to take his wife with him, and this would break up their home for the time being. "so he decided to let us hit the train for here," explained nort, whose name, as you may have guessed, was norton. "we didn't take time to write--just packed up and came on," he added. "we did telegraph," said dick. "but we knew we could find you, whether you met us or not, bud." "i never got your message, and i don't believe dad did, either," remarked the young rancher. "but he may have for all that. he's been terrible busy lately, arranging for a big shipment of steers, and our telephone has been out of order, so maybe they tried to 'phone the message to us and could not raise us, and it got laid aside. but i'm sure glad you're here now." "so are we!" exclaimed dick. "do you mean to say you have a telephone?" asked nort, with something of disappointment in his voice. "of course!" laughed bud. "this is a big ranch, and we couldn't get along without a 'phone. we're hooked up with other ranches, and we have a private line of our own from one ranch to the other. we're on the long distance, too. oh, we couldn't manage without the wire." "it doesn't seem like the wild west, if you have a _'phone_," complained nort. "oh, you will find it wild enough!" declared bud. "didn't you get your fill on tartar, and haven't you seen a real man-fight first crack out of the box?" "yes, i had all i wanted on tartar," confessed nort with a smile. "i hope your dad won't think i was too fresh, getting on one of his horses without having permission," he said. "tartar was the one who was fresh," laughed bud. "but the boys shouldn't have allowed you on him." "that was my fault," confessed impulsive nort. "as i told you, dick and i arrived at the station without being expected by you, as it now turns out. we scouted around, and found one of your wagon outfits there, and of course the driver was decent enough to bring us in. "i saw that corral full of ponies first shot, and as i can ride--a little----" he quickly qualified his statement, "i just hopped aboard the liveliest pinto in the pack." "you sure did pick a lively one!" chuckled bud. "i don't see how you stayed on as long as you did. tartar is next door to an outlaw. he's a bucker and a roller, and they do say he killed a man once. i don't see why dad keeps him. there aren't two men around here who can ride him." "well, i'm not going to qualify," declared nort. "but, as i said, when dick and i arrived we didn't stop to do any thinking. we hit the corral, and though some of the men did warn me, i was foolish enough to try and stick on that wild colt. you came along just in time." "yes, there might have been trouble," agreed bud. "you'll have all the riding you want if you stick around here. we don't know what walking means on diamond x, though dad does talk of getting a flivver. i wish he would." "there's lots of level country around here," observed dick. "plenty, and the other kind too," added bud nodding toward the hills at their backs. "well, we sure will have good times." "we want work, too," declared nort. "we want to learn to be ranchers." "you'll have that chance, too," declared his western cousin. "but now let's lope along a little faster. if we don't get to the table the same time as the boys there won't be a smell left. supper's going to be late to-night." for a time the pace forbade conversation. the only sounds were the beating of hoofs on the ground, the clatter of buckles and the squeak of damp leather. then the cowboys, and the young ranchers, trotted down the slope that led to the corral, and nort and dick had a glimpse, in the doorway of the ranch house, of their aunt. a quick survey of the party told mrs. merkel that there had been no casualties, and, with a satisfied sigh, she went back in the house, and began to put the supper on the table, with the assistance of nell and two women workers. "the boys'll eat us out of house and home to-night," she remarked to nell. "it's lucky we have plenty," commented bud's pretty sister. and plenty there was, as dick and nort amply testified to a little later, as they drew chairs to a long table at which they sat with the ranch hands, who had made hasty toilets after their fast ride. for a time there was heard only the rattle of table utensils, but, with the sharp edge of appetites dulled, talk and joking retort ran about the board. bud took his part, but the two easterners were silent, preferring to listen and learn. and they picked up many a gem of slang from the repartee that flashed forth. "any of you boys ever see that outfit before?" asked bud's mother, when an account of the professor's camp had been given. no one had, but "snake" purdee, so called because of his deadly fear of rattlers that were occasionally met with, remarked, after disposing of a mouthful of biscuit: "some of the double z boys was tellin' me of a locoed tenderfoot who was grubbin' for diamonds, or suthin' like that, an' i reckon this is him." "shouldn't wonder," commented mrs. merkel. "you say you're going to send over some liniment?" she asked the foreman. "i was aimin' to do it," he answered. "that is if you----" "oh, of course!" interrupted mrs. merkel. "one of the boys can ride over this evening. i don't want anybody to suffer when i can help." nort nudged bud under the table. "can't we go, too?" asked the city lad. bud hesitated a moment and then answered: "why, yes, i reckon so." to his mother he said: "i'll ride over, too, with nort and dick." "will it be safe?" asked mrs. merkel, with a quick look at the foreman. "i wish mr. merkel would come." "oh, it'll be _safe_ enough," the foreman answered. "those greasers won't come back, especially after dark. they'll lay low. i'll send babe over with the boys." "oh, joy!" murmured nort, and the eyes of dick sparkled. this was living life as they had dreamed it--a night ride to a camp that had been attacked by savage men! "get on some other clothes," suggested bud to his cousins, as they left the table. "you'll spoil those in no time, on a horse." "all right," agreed dick, and soon he and his brother had made the change. if not exactly attired as were the cowboys, their outfits were sufficiently practical for the time being. "can't we have guns?" asked nort, while some of the ranch hands were saddling ponies for the little party that was to take the antiseptics to the wounded men. "know how to shoot?" asked babe, who felt his responsibility at taking two tenderfeet on the trail at night. "a little," admitted nort, and dick nodded in agreement. "wa'al, i don't reckon you'll have any use for 'em," said the assistant foreman, "but it's just as well to pack 'em. i'll get you a couple guns," and he started toward the bunk house while bud and his cousins mounted their ponies and prepared to take the trail. "they'll do," babe said to bud in a low voice, after passing to dick and nort the guns. "lots to learn, but they've got the grit, and they ain't too much set up. they'll do." then they hit the trail. chapter vi the rustlers diamond x ranch was one of the largest in that part of the country. mr. merkel's holdings were in one of our western states, not far from the mexican border, which fact was not altogether pleasing to him. it made it too easy for cattle thieves to operate, and more than once diamond x had suffered from depredations of the "rustlers," as they were called, doubtless from the fact that they "rustled" or "hustled" cattle that were not their own, off lawful ranges. but it was all part of the day's work, and mr. merkel's ranches were too valuable to be disposed of easily, even though their proximity to mexico, the home of lawless "greasers" and half breeds, was too close for ease of mind. diamond x, like many other western ranches, took its name from the brand used to mark the cattle that fed on its succulent grass and drank its abundant water. the brand was a diamond with the letter x in the centre, a mark easily recognized, even at a distance. other marks were used on other and adjoining ranches, mr. merkel owning two others, one of which went by the name square m, from the fact that the distinguishing brand was a square with the letter m inside. the other's mark was a triangle with a b in it, that ranch being known among the cowboys as the triangle b. double z was a ranch adjoining that of the diamond x on the north, hank fisher being the proprietor, while to the west was the circle t ranch, its cattle being marked with a large circle, in which the letter t appeared, it being owned by thomas ogden, a friend of mr. merkel. "gosh! but your father has a lot of cows!" exclaimed nort, as he and his brother rode along through the early evening, beside bud. "must be a million of 'em," added the city youth as, from a rise, he caught a glimpse of many herds, some restrained from wandering by fenced ranges, and others being slowly driven along by cowboys, who waved to babe, bud, and the city lads. "not quite a million!" laughed bud. "and we don't call 'em _cows_, though some of 'em are, of course. they're cattle, or steers. mother keeps a cow or two for the sake of the milk, and of course our men are called cowboys, or punchers, and this is cow country. but we don't speak of 'em as herds of cows." "glad you told me," murmured nort. "i'm going to be a ranchman some day, and i want to learn all i can." "same here!" commented his brother. it was a wondrously beautiful night, calm and clear, with the stars shining overhead more brightly than nort and dick had ever before seen them. it is the clearness of the atmosphere in the west that renders objects so plain at a distance, that brings out the beauty of the stars and which also enables such wonderful moving pictures to be made. in the east the day is rare when there is not some haze. it is just the reverse in the west. through the silent night rode the boy ranchers, for nort and dick were beginning to think of themselves in that class. the cousins rode together, with babe in the rear, lugging the bottles of antiseptics that were destined for the injured men. "what are those cowboys riding around the cattle for?" asked nort, as they turned aside from a large herd restlessly moving amid a constant dull rumble. "they're driving 'em over to the railroad, to be shipped," explained bud. "that's what dad raises cattle for--ships 'em away for beef. this bunch has been fattened up on a range we keep specially for that. this is a good time to sell now, prices are high, so we're disposing of as many as we can. "the cowboys will drive 'em to the railroad, taking their time, so as not to run all the fat off the steers. the heavier they are the more money we get for 'em. i guess they won't go much farther to-night, though," he added, with a look back at the herd they had passed. "this is the first day they've been driven, and we always go a bit slow at first." "say, but it's great! wonderful!" exclaimed nort, half rising in his stirrups and breathing deep of the pure, keen air, for it was now chilly. "you said an earful!" commented his brother. "i wouldn't have missed this for anything!" "glad you like it," murmured bud. "what's that--a wolf? a prairie wolf?" asked nort, suddenly as a sort of whine broke the silence of the night, punctuated otherwise only by the soft footfalls of the horses. "wolf? no!" chuckled bud. "don't let babe hear you say that. it's him--singing! lots of the men do it." as bud's whisper died away, the assistant foreman let his voice soar from a whine into a more or less of a roar, as he intoned: "oh, sing to me not of the joys of a city where innocent cowboys are left in a trance. give me a hoss, an' some room to do ridin', when i am daid bring me back to the ranch!" "does he get that way often?" asked dick in a whisper, as the cowboy began on the second verse of what promised to be a lengthy song. "more or less!" answered bud. "the cowboys sing a lot, and some haven't half bad voices. the songs, too, are corkers, some of 'em. they sing 'cause it's lonesome ridin' line, and then, too, it seems to sort of soothe the cattle. dad has told us, lots of times, where a stampede has been stopped just by the bunch singing songs." "good idea," commented nort. "oh, but this is the life for me!" he chanted. "only this ride isn't lasting long enough," said dick. "that's the camp, down in there; isn't it?" he asked his cousin, pointing ahead toward where, in the light of the newly risen moon, could be observed some white objects. "those are the professors' tents," declared bud. "we got here sooner than i expected. talking to you chaps made the time pass quickly." "what do you think of those fellows, anyhow?" asked nort, in a low voice of his cousin. it was evident he referred to the two scientists who had been attacked that afternoon. "i don't know what to think," admitted bud, frankly. "i never heard of anything in this part of the country, more valuable than gold, that was worth prospecting after. there hasn't even any gold been found, as far as i know, though there were rumors that once a prospector made a lucky strike about ten miles from here. but these men do seem to have something they're afraid will be taken from them." "well, it needn't worry us," commented dick. "we're going to be cow punchers--not miners." "you said it!" declared nort. by this time they were within the range of several fires gleaming in the midst of the camp of the scientists, and a moment later professor blair emerged from the tent that had been so jealously guarded during the day. "oh, it's you; is it?" he asked as he recognized the boys and babe. "it is very kind of you, to take this trouble." "'sall right," remarked the assistant foreman, as he handed over the bottles of medicine. "tell th' boss to use it just as it is--don't need any dilutin' with water." "oh, you mean professor wright," said the other, so translating the cowboy's use of the word "boss." "yep," answered babe. "tell the boss to use it straight." "well, he isn't here just now," said the other. "the men who were shot seem to be doing well, however. i'll attend to them myself. thank you again." his voice was cultured and his manner pleasant. but it was evident that he invited no confidences. little could be made out, even in the moonlight and the gleam of the fire, save the usual scattered camp outfits, and the white tents. the boy ranchers and babe had done what they set out to do--deliver the medicine, and no incident had marked their trip, unless the singing of the assistant foreman can be called such. "some of us'll ride over to-morrow," promised babe, as he and the boys turned to take the trail back to the ranch. "thank you, but we may not be here," remarked professor blair. "we may move on. but thank you, just the same." "don't mention it," begged babe, slightly sarcastic of the other's cultured accent and words. "we aim to please, an' be neighborly." "of which you have given ample evidence," was the rejoinder. "guess that'll hold him for a while," murmured bud to his cousins. "good-nights" were called and the outfit from diamond x ranch was on its way again. nort and dick were eagerly questioning bud about western matters, learning to their delight that there would be chances to go hunting and fishing after the big round-up, and babe was beginning on about the forty-seventh verse of his favorite song, when bud suddenly stopped in the midst of telling some incident, and gazed intently across the rolling range. "what's the matter?" asked dick in a whisper, for the silence of the night, and the strangeness of their surroundings, seemed to call for whispers. "i thought i saw cattle moving," said bud. "yes, i do!" he went on, quickly. "look, babe!" babe broke off his song at a point where a dying cowboy was begging to be "toted back to the chuck house," and looked to where the boy rancher pointed. "that's it, shore as rattlers!" the assistant foreman said. "it's about time they tried suthin' like this! got your guns, boys?" "what for?" asked nort, a thrill of excitement leaping through his veins. "what is there to shoot?" "rustlers!" said bud, grimly. "somebody--greasers, likely--are trying to run off some of our fat steers! come on, we'll ride 'em down!" he clapped spurs to his horse, an example followed by nort and dick, but, quick as they were, babe had shot ahead of them, and in the moonlight the city lads caught the gleam of his gun as he pulled it from the holster. chapter vii a cry in the night needless to say that nort and dick were thrilled through and through. having lived in a city nearly all of their lives, though with the usual city lad's dreamings of adventures in the open, of camps, of desperate measures against desperate men, they had never hoped for this. "crickity! think of it!" hoarsely whispered nort to his brother as they galloped along side by side. "we haven't been here a day yet, and we're run into cattle rustlers!" "great!" commented dick. "oh, boy!" "we haven't run into 'em yet, that's the trouble," spoke bud grimly, as his pony worked in between the two brothers. "but we will in a little while--babe'll fix 'em." "can't we take a hand?" asked nort eagerly, as his hand sought the weapon at his side. "we may have to," bud admitted, "but dad doesn't think i'm old enough, yet, to mix up in a man-sized fight. maybe he's right, but he always tells me to hold back until i'm needed." "we can take a hand _then_, can't we?" asked nort eagerly. "sure thing!" exclaimed bud. "but there may not be any need of a scrap. these rustlers know they're caught now, and they may run for it. they can't get away with the steers, anyhow, without a fight. of course if they get babe covered--and us--they'll make their getaway, but he may bluff 'em off." "what does it all mean, anyhow?" asked dick, as the assistant foreman spurred off through the night, following the trail of the now running steers. if there were rustlers driving the cattle away the men themselves gave no sign, but remained hidden. "it means cattle rustlers--that's all," explained bud, as he led the way for his cousins to follow, since the young representative of the diamond x ranch knew the trail. "rustlers are just men who take other folk's cattle, drive 'em off, change the brands and sell 'em wherever they can. sometimes they get away with it and sometimes they don't!" "and are they running off your dad's cattle now?" asked nort. "looks that way," admitted bud, "though i haven't seen any of the men doing it. you know some of our cowboys drove in a bunch of fat steers from one of dad's distant ranches the other day. they're being taken over to the railroad to be shipped. not the station where you fellows came in, but another, about two days' trip from here. it's a bunch of these cattle that's being hazed away from us, i reckon." "i didn't know they hazed steers, like they do college freshmen," ventured dick. "hazing cattle means to sort of work 'em along easy like--drive 'em where you want to go," explained bud. "we have to do a lot of hazing when we have the round-up--that's when the cattle owners send their cowboys to collect the animals that have been feeding on the open range during the year. each man separates into a bunch the cattle with his brands, and also the little calves, or the mavericks, and hazes them toward his corrals." "what's mavericks?" asked nort. he could not forbear the question, even though considerable excitement seemed just in the offing. he wanted to learn all he could about ranch life. "a maverick gets its name from an old texas ranchman named sam maverick," answered bud. "he didn't brand his cattle, and one day, during a stampede, his steers mixed in with a lot more that were branded. he and his men cut them out and hazed over to his range all cattle that weren't branded. every cow, calf or steer that didn't have a brand on was called one of maverick's, and so we call, now, any unbranded animal a 'maverick.' anybody who finds it can brand it and claim it as his, though; in some places all the mavericks are bunched together and divided. but say, i wonder what babe's doing, anyhow? i haven't heard a shot, and he must be up to that bunch of rustlers now, if that's what they were." "what else could they be?" asked nort. "i don't know," bud replied. "anyhow, here's some of the cattle. look out you don't run into 'em!" he called sharply, as he pulled in his pony. he spoke just in time to warn nort and dick, for, in another instant, they found themselves among the tail-enders of a bunch of cattle that had run from them at first. no men were in sight--not even babe--and there was a haze of clouds over the moon now, and a sort of fog close to the ground, that prevented clear vision. "are these your cattle?" asked dick. "tell you in a minute," responded the young cattleman. he rode up alongside one of the animals and focused on its rump the gleam from an electric flash light. bud carried one of these mighty handy pocket articles, which are much more effective than matches for making observations at night. in the bright gleam of the little light the boy ranchers saw, plainly branded in the hide of the animal, a large diamond, with the letter x in the centre. "dad's stock--all of 'em, i reckon!" exclaimed bud, as he flashed his torch on others in the bunch, revealing more of the diamond x brand. "but where are the rustlers?" asked nort, in a tense whisper, and his hand sought the holster where his newly-acquired weapon rested. "i don't know," began bud. "they may have ridden off, or it may be that----" he stopped suddenly and listened. dick and nort heard, as did bud, the rapid approach of a horseman. in an instant bud had switched off his pocket electric light, and then in the half hazy light of the partly obscured moon he and his cousins peered forward. nort and dick had drawn their guns, an example set them by bud. "don't do any shooting until you hear me," ordered bud. "there may be no need of it!" the rider, unseen as yet, was coming nearer and nearer, the thud of his horse's feet pounding hard on the turf. he seemed to be approaching from the direction in which babe had disappeared. in another instant the rider was pulling his horse to a quick stop beside bud's animal, and when a beam of misty moonlight flashed out from beneath a cloud it was seen that the assistant foreman of diamond x ranch had returned. "oh!" exclaimed nort, and there was almost a note of disappointment in his voice because the rider did not develop into a cattle rustler. "did you see any of 'em?" asked bud eagerly. "not a hair," answered babe milton, who proved that he could be active enough when occasion called for it, in spite of his size and weight. "but i heard some one riding off down the gully, and if it was any of our boys, or any of the fellows around here, they wouldn't have run. besides, these steers belong to the bunch happy day is hazin' over to the railroad. they didn't get cut out by themselves." "not much," agreed bud, while nort and dick listened eagerly. "so i'm going on a little farther," said babe. "you fellows stay here, and if i don't get back in an hour--well, you'll know something happened." "can't we come?" asked dick, eagerly. "you'd better stay here," advised babe. "somebody'll have to ride herd on these steers, and i can deal with those rascals better'n you boys--though i may need your help later. anyhow, bud, you stay here, and herd 'em in till i get back--if i do." "and if you don't?" asked bud. there was a world of meaning in those few words, for cattle rustlers were desperate men. "if i don't, ride back to the ranch an' tell the boss," spoke babe simply, as if it was all in the day's work--or night's. "all right," agreed bud. he realized that though he was the son of the owner of diamond x ranch, in this case the word of babe exceeded even his heritage. turning his horse quickly, after a brief examination of his saddle girths, babe spurred away into the haze of the cloudy moonlight, leaving the boy ranchers to guard the cattle. the animals, after their run, were content to remain quiet now, moving about a bit uneasily, and rumbling as if in protest now and then. they were all full-grown beasts, ready for the market, and valuable. "s'pose he'll get any of 'em?" whispered nort. "can't say," answered bud, briefly. "babe generally does get what he goes after, though." this was significant. in silence, broken only by the occasional lowing of the cattle, the boy ranchers waited--waited for they knew not what. and then, as suddenly as an explosion, came a cry in the night--and such a cry! an unearthly noise of long drawn out howling notes, mingled with roars, the crescendo effect ending in a peal of weird yells that were like the cries of a laughing hyena, mingled with the sardonic wails of a baboon. chapter viii "the professor!" loud and long drawn out was that weird cry of the night. it sent shivers down the spines of nort and dick, and they both confessed, afterward, that if they had not been wearing the heavy range hats, supplied them by bud, that their hair would surely have risen and stood up straight. then, as suddenly as it had come to them out of the half darkness, the fiendish noise ceased, dying away in what seemed to be sobbing, insane laughter. with a swallow or two, to wet his parched lips and fear-dried throat, dick asked in a whisper: "what--what was that?" like an echo came his brother's question: "was somebody killed?" bud's hearty laugh relieved the tension. "it was only a coyote," said the boy from the ranch. "a _coyote_!" repeated nort and dick in unison. "yes; you'll see plenty of 'em, and you must have heard of 'em. little animals, sort of half wolf, half dog. they hang about for something to eat, and they sure can howl!" "_howl!_" exclaimed nort. "if that's a _howl_ i want to know it! of all the infernal noises----" "you said it!" exclaimed his brother. "was that his death cry, bud? did babe shoot one?" "no, of course not. it isn't as easy to shoot one of the pesky coyotes as you'd think, and it isn't much use. they don't do any particular harm around here. besides, you didn't hear any shooting; did you?" dick was forced to admit that he had not, and he reproved himself for not using his faculties to better advantage. he was beginning to realize that if he was to be a westerner, an outdoor lad and a rancher, he must learn to observe, something that bud had already acquired in large measure. "do they always howl that way?" asked nort, as he shoved back into his holster the gun he had half drawn again. "not always--lots of times it's worse!" chuckled bud. "_worse!_" cried dick. "i don't see how it could be. what do they do it for?" he asked, as, once again, that strange cry welled forth on the night. "oh, just to keep each other company, i reckon," answered bud. "same as dogs bark. this may be a lone coyote calling to his mate; or he may be summoning the pack to feed on a dead calf, or something like that. i reckon they always howl pretty free on moonlight nights. we're used to 'em." "don't believe i'd get used to that if i lived here a hundred years," commented dick, as, for the third time, the cry rose and fell, even louder and more horrible than before. "the cattle don't mind 'em," said bud. "in fact it seems to sort of soothe 'em. look, some of the steers are lying down." this was so. in the clearer moonlight which prevailed for a few moments, the lads from the city saw numbers of the bunch of cattle resting easily on the grass. they were either tired out from the rapid pace at which they had been driven, or had concluded that they were to stay there for the night. "come on," suggested bud, a moment later, as he urged his horse forward. "hit it up!" "where?" asked dick. "we'll ride herd for a few minutes, to make sure none of 'em stray off. i can't see just how many there are in this bunch, the light is so uncertain." nort and dick followed their cousin, slowly circling the bunch of cattle on which an attempt had been made to drive off. there were about fifty, as bud roughly estimated, when he and his cousins had completed the circuit, thus "riding herd," as it is called, to distinguish it from "riding line," when the cowboys move slowly up and down along the line of fences that enclose the more modern ranches. diamond x ranch consisted of both sorts. mr. merkel owned a number of large expanses of land, completely fenced in, and on these grazed thousands of cattle. he also took advantage of the open range, letting some of his animals mingle on those vast expanses in common with steers and cows from other ranches. some of the open range was richer in grass than the fenced-in portions, but there was a certain amount of additional work attached to the use of the open range. it meant round-ups twice a year, and the branding of cattle which were claimed as the property of the different owners. in places where there were no fences to keep the animals from straying it was often necessary to "ride herd." that is, the cowboys, night and day, rode slowly around the bunch of steers, keeping them from straying or stampeding. at times they were "hazed," or driven to other feeding places, or to water, until such time as they were collected and driven to the railroad to be shipped. where stout wire fences held the cattle within bounds the work of the cowboys was easier, but even here "riding line" was necessary, as one could never tell when a break might be made in the fence, or when rustlers might cut the wire, to enable them to drive off a choice herd, or part of it. so the boy ranchers rode herd, in a fashion, the two city lads gazing off through the half darkness, across the rolling prairies where, for all they knew, babe might be trailing the rustlers or engaged in a desperate fight with them. "though i reckon he didn't come up to 'em," ventured bud, after a wait of half an hour, during which no sign or sound had come from the assistant foreman. "will he come back here?' asked nort. "sure--if he can," answered bud, significantly. "how long'll we wait?" asked dick. "can't say--exactly," answered bud. "but say, i forgot about you fellows," he went on, quickly. "you've traveled all day, and must be tired. it isn't far back to the ranch, and i can start you on the plain trail. i don't mind staying here alone--i've done it before." "go back? i guess not!" exclaimed nort. "forget it!" advised dick. "this is just what we want!" "well, if you like it," began bud, "i s'pose----" "like it?" cried the two city lads in unison. "it's just what we came out for," added nort. "well, morning'll come, sooner or later, though i expect babe'll be back long before then," bud went on. "those rustlers have probably given him the slip, and----" "hark!" suddenly whispered nort. "i hear some one coming." the noise of an approaching horse could be made out. it was approaching slowly, seeming to stumble now and then. there was an uneasy movement among the cattle, and the boys peered eagerly forward, their hands on the butts of their guns in the holsters. "is it babe?" whispered dick. "i don't know," answered bud. "doesn't ride like him, but----" a moment later, from out of the shadow cast by the cattle, a solitary horseman rode, almost stumbling along. at first he could not clearly be made out but suddenly the haze cleared from the moon, and with startled eyes the boys recognized the rider. "the professor!" gasped bud, and nort and dick knew the horseman for the scientist from the mysterious camp they had recently left--professor hendryx wright! chapter ix "what does it mean?" mutual recognition, followed by half suppressed and surprised exclamations, followed the advent of professor wright on the scene. he had been pursuing his way, whether peaceful or otherwise the boy ranchers could not determine, until he unexpectedly stumbled on bud, nort and dick riding herd--said herd being the bunch of diamond x cattle some one had tried to haze away. "oh!" murmured professor wright, as the growing illumination, caused by the moon coming out more clearly, revealed him to the boys and them to him. "were you--er--looking for me?" he asked in his usual cultured tones. "not exactly," replied bud. "we were just over to your camp, to leave the stuff for the men, and you weren't there." "no, i had to leave," said the professor, smoothly. "i am going back now. i am sorry i missed you." "you didn't!" bud said grimly to himself. and then the scientist seemed to realize this for he added: "i mean i am sorry i was not there to thank you. it was very kind of you to help the men. i'm sorry this trouble occurred." "oh, we're always glad to help," spoke bud. "out west you never know when you're going to need help yourself, so it's always a good plan to have a balance in your favor." "yes, i should say that was so," spoke the professor thoughtfully. "you found everything all right, at my camp?" he asked, rather than stated. "all right--yes," answered bud. "we left the stuff with professor blair. he said you were out." "yes, i had to make a little trip. but aren't you off your road?" he asked the boys. "i mean doesn't your ranch lie over there?" and he pointed in the proper direction. "it does," assented bud. "but we've got to look out for these cattle." "oh, i see. you are 'riding herd,' as i believe it is called." "in a way--yes," spoke bud and then he went on boldly: "some rustlers tried to haze this bunch over the river, but we caught 'em!" "caught them?" repeated the professor quickly. "well, our assistant foreman is after 'em now," bud explained. "we're waiting here for him to come back. we thought you were babe as you came along, but as soon as i heard your horse i knew it couldn't be him. he doesn't ride--er--just that way." "i realize that i shall never become a horseman," said the professor dryly, and with a little half smile, visible in the moonlight. "but i can ride enough for my purpose." bud, as well as nort and dick, found themselves wondering just what the professor's "purpose" was. however he did not seem inclined to disclose it, for he pulled up his horse, which was idly cropping the grass, and said: "well, i must be going. thank you, again, for your kindness. i hope we may meet again. good-night!" he urged his animal onward, and a moment later was lost in the darkness, as a thicker cloud than any that had yet obscured it, covered the moon. for several seconds the three boy ranchers remained, looking off in the gloom which had swallowed up the mysterious scientist. for that he was mysterious none of the lads could deny. "wonder where he had been?" mused bud in a low voice, for in that silent, dark open place voices carried almost as clearly as across water, and he was cautious. "search me!" declared nort. "guess he didn't expect to see us," added dick. "say!" suddenly exclaimed nort, urging his horse against bud's in his eagerness and excitement, "maybe he was one of the cattle rustlers, bud! he circled around and rode back after he found he couldn't get away with the steers, and that babe was on his trail. that's what it is!" "no," spoke bud, quietly. "there's something queer about that man--professor wright as he calls himself--but he isn't the kind that rustles cattle. cattle thieves don't make a permanent camp. they're wanderers--mostly greasers, indians and half breeds, with a bad white man mixing in--and they don't stay long in one place." "don't you think he had anything to do with trying to drive off your cattle?" asked nort. "well, you can't be altogether sure of anything in this world," half drawled bud, "but it doesn't seem reasonable." "but he came from the direction to where those men ran that were driving away the cattle," said dick. "wonder if he met babe?" "you can ask him," said bud. "here comes babe now." the two other lads were not aware of the approach of the assistant foreman of diamond x, but bud's quick ears had caught the faint sound of the horse's feet approaching, and in another moment babe rode up from a little clump of greasewood shrubs, which growth, to the eastern lads, had resembled sumac at first. "find 'em, babe?" asked bud in a low voice. "nope! they razzled off 'fore i could get up to 'em. all right here?" he asked, though a look convinced him there had been no serious trouble, at least. "all serene," answered bud. "did you meet the professor?" he inquired. "the professor?" babe's tone of voice, indicating surprise, was answer enough. but bud went into particulars, telling how the scientist had ridden up on them a little while before. "no, he didn't come nigh me!" declared babe. "mighty funny, too," he went on. "could he be one of the rustlers?" asked nort, eagerly. "oh, he _could_, i reckon," admitted babe. "but it doesn't seem reasonable. guess he wouldn't head back this way if he'd tried to run off some diamond x stock. i'd like to know where those fellows slipped to," he said, musingly. "well, they didn't get anything, anyhow," declared nort. "not much, that's a fact, son," drawled babe, as he eased himself down off his pony, for he wanted to stretch his legs. "course i don't know how many there ought to be in this bunch," and he looked over the small herd that had now settled quietly for the night. "but they didn't get away with much. you fellows might as well ride on back, and send out some of the boys," he added. "your ma'll be wondering about you, bud." "yes, i reckon she will, 'specially as i have some tenderfeet with me," and he laughed good-naturedly. "don't go back on our account!" exclaimed nort. "we can camp out here all right." "it'll be pretty dry camping," chuckled babe, "an' there's no need of it. slim will be wanting to know how we made out, and he may get a report on the rustlers, not knowing that we headed 'em off. so it's just as well for you lads to go back. you can send out some of the night men, and i'll follow you as soon as i'm relieved," he added. this seemed the best plan and back toward the ranch headquarters rode bud, dick and nort, leaving babe in charge of the small herd, a task easy to fulfill now, as the animals were quiet. the weird howls of the coyotes followed the lads almost to the ranch houses, and the advent of the three, with the story they told, created no little excitement. cattle rustling was not common enough to be a regular part of the day's work. "zing zowie!" exclaimed slim degnan as he heard the particulars. "you fellows landed feet first right into some doin's!" he added, looking at nort and dick. "we sure did!" exclaimed the city lads, much pleased in spite of being weary. a little later, while bud and his cousins were eating what might be called a midnight lunch that mrs. merkel set out for them in the cozy living-room of the ranch house, two cowboys rode off to relieve babe. "and now it's time for you tenderfeet to turn in," said mrs. merkel to nort and dick. "i told your mother i'd look after you as i would bud, if she'd let you come out, and, now you're here, i'm going to keep my word. turn in, all three of you!" and, for once in their lives, the boys were glad to go to bed without arguing, for the tenderfeet, at least, were dog tired. no further trace of the cattle rustlers was discovered, if indeed there had been any. all the evidence there was lay in the sight bud and the others had caught of a stray bunch of steers being hazed over toward the river, across which lay open range. the cowboys who relieved babe reported nothing out of the ordinary as having happened during their night vigil. mr. merkel came home that day, the second of the eastern boys' stay at diamond x ranch, and the cattleman warmly welcomed his nephews. "we'll fit you out to be regular ranchers!" he declared, and in less than a week nort and dick felt that they were, indeed, on their way to this enviable goal. they were provided with sheepskin chaps, such as bud and the other cowboys wore--chaps being in the nature of overalls, and affording much needed protection to the legs when riding amid a bunch of milling steers. the eastern lads were given complete outfits, from the rather awkward high-heeled boots to the broad-brimmed range hats, and they wore their handkerchiefs, or "neckerchiefs," most proudly. these neckerchiefs were more than ornaments. in the choking dust, often strongly alkali, the squares, pulled up over nose and mouth, gave needed relief and protection. "suppose we ride over and see if there's been any more trouble at the professor's camp?" suggested nort to bud one day. "good idea!" declared dick. "all right, if you want to," assented bud. "dad was sort of mentioning that he'd like to hear how the shot men were getting on. we can make it easy before supper." together the boy ranchers trotted over the gently rolling land toward the foothills, in the midst of which the camp lay. as they drew near bud scanned the horizon for a sign of smoke, such as he and slim had observed once before. but there was no trace. "shouldn't wonder but what they'd vamoosed," he said. "lit out, you mean?" asked nort. "yeppie! there doesn't seem to be any signs of life." and as they rode into the site of the camp the reason for this became plain. the camp was deserted. the tents were down, and all that remained were emptied tin cans, broken boxes and the cold ashes of the fires. but over on the side of the hill, where there was an outcropping of red sandstone, curious marks showed. they were the marks of digging and excavating on rather a large scale, and as bud caught sight of these mute evidences of operations he uttered a low whistle of surprise. "what does it mean?" asked nort. chapter x del pinzo characteristic it was of bud merkel not to answer at once the sharp and excited question of his cousin. living all his life in the west, as he had done, and most of it having been spent on his father's ranches, bud had unconsciously acquired the valuable habit of observation--and quiet observation at that. he wanted to look about and notice the "sign" before he gave his opinion. in this he was like the indians, whence, doubtless, our own plainsmen developed the habit of looking twice before they spoke once. i don't mean to say that bud was not a regular fellow, or that he was not at times almost as impulsive as nort. he was like the majority of boys, but on this occasion, when it appeared that something unusual was afoot, bud held back his opinion for a moment. "well, what do you think of it?" asked nort again, as eagerly as before. "doesn't this look like they'd been digging for gold?" "i should say it did!" cried dick, no less eager, now, than his brother. "those professors saying they weren't after the yellow boys was all bunk and bluff! they did it to throw us off the track, so we wouldn't try to have a hand in it. they've been mining here, bud, as sure as guns!" bud slowly shook his head. "why not?" asked nort, seeing his cousin's denial of the theory that fitted in so well with his own ideas. "well, they don't mine this way--that is, i've never seen any done in this fashion, and i've been in several mining localities," spoke bud. "this looks more like they'd been prospecting for water, digging here, there and everywhere. but there wasn't any need of that, for here's a good spring of water, and the river isn't so far away. this is a good watered country, and that's what makes it so valuable for cattle--you've got to have grass and water and we've got that on diamond x." "but what do you s'pose this all means?" asked nort again, as he slipped from his saddle, and, by pulling the reins forward, over his pony's head, thus gave that animal the universal sign of the plains that it was not to wander. "i don't know," bud was frank to say, as he shook his head. "they sure have been tearing up the ground," he added, as he noticed on the side hill, where there was an outcropping of red sandstone, that many excavations had been made. "if it isn't gold maybe it's silver," suggested dick, willing to accept a theory of less valuable metal. "or diamonds!" and his eyes gleamed as he overmatched his brother's guess. "nothing doin!" laughed bud. "of course there are silver mines not far from here, down mexico way, and diamonds have been found in the united states, but not around this locality." "well, what's your theory?" asked nort of the more experienced boy rancher. "here we've been gassing along, saying what we thought, and we don't know any of the ins and outs of the matter. you're right on the ground, and you've lived here all your life, so you ought to have some idea of what it all means." "but i don't!" exclaimed bud. "wish i did," he added, as he joined his cousins on foot, walking about the debris of the camp, while the ponies sniffed, here and there, sometimes finding a choice morsel which they daintily lipped before eating. "you'd say they were hunting for something, wouldn't you?" asked nort. "yes, i'd go that far," admitted bud. "and they didn't find it," put in dick. "what makes you think so?" asked the young rancher quickly. "well, there isn't any hole, or any excavation, where they could have taken out a treasure chest, or bags of hidden gold; not to say mined gold," went on dick. "in all the stories of recovered treasure i ever read, they always left a hole where they took out the stuff. there isn't any hole like that here, though there's enough to show that plenty of digging went on." "i don't believe they've been after any gold, or anything like that," declared bud. "that professor man said so, but----" "but was he telling the truth?" asked nort. "that's what we got to figure on." "i s'pose," agreed bud. "and from what i know of the country and sizing up this outfit, i'd say he was--they aren't after gold." "what then?" asked dick. "a man--two men like professor blair and professor wright don't hire an outfit such as they had, and prospect for nothing!" "you are right," quietly agreed bud. "they're after something, but i reckon it's something we don't know anything about." "maybe they were trying to run off some of your cattle, or some steers from the circle t," suggested nort. "cattle rustlers; eh, bud?" "if they're cattle rustlers they're a new kind," said the ranch boy. "but of course it's possible. it may be they've gone into cattle rustling on a new scale, to throw everybody off the track, and finding out we were on to their curves, or maybe on account of having a fight among themselves, they couldn't turn the trick." "that's right!" exclaimed nort, in his impulsive way. "maybe instead of being attacked by greasers and indians, who thought they could get some gold, the professor's bunch had a fight among themselves, and that's how those two men got hurt." "it's possible," admitted bud. "but, as zip foster would say, i don't believe that's the right of it either." "would zip foster know what all this meant?" asked dick, waving his hand toward the deserted camp. "maybe," murmured bud, turning quickly aside. "but there's no use staying here any longer. we can't learn anything here. might as well get back to the ranch. if you fellows are ever going to learn to throw a rope, you've got to do some practicing." "what's the matter with doing it here?" asked dick. "we've got ropes with us." to each saddle was looped the cowboy's most dependable friend aside from his horse and his gun--the ever-present lariat. bud was an accomplished swinger of the rope, and dick and nort had been practicing hard since coming to diamond x. "yes, we can try a few throws here," said bud, as he walked toward his horse. "i'll sit up here and watch you two," he went on, as he leaped to his saddle, and pulled up his pony which had, as was usual, started off the moment he felt a weight on his back. "i can see you better up here," bud went on. "try it standing first. tackle some of those stumps, and for cat's sake remember to keep your palms up when you shoot the rope out. you'll never be accurate until you do." the brothers tried, one after the other, and bud encouraged them by saying that they were improving. "now you show us," begged nort, when his arm began to ache, for throwing a long coiled rope is no easy task. "all right," agreed bud. "but i'll try it from the saddle. it comes more natural to me that way, and nine times out of ten you do all your roping from the saddle. of course this isn't regular, for you don't generally rope standing objects," he went on. "sock isn't used to that, and he expects a pull on the rope after i fling it. but i'll try for that stump you fellows have been mistreating," and bud laughed. he rode sock, his pinto pony, off a little way, coiling his rope in readiness as he did so. then, wheeling quickly, and with a wild, inspiring "yip-yippi!" the young rancher came riding fast toward a low, broad stump the two other lads had, more or less successfully, been trying to rope. his right hand shot out, palm up, his cousins noticed, and the rope went twisting and turning through the air, lengthening out like a long, thin snake, and almost hissing like one. instinctively, as though roping a steer, bud prepared himself for the pull that always followed. sock, the intelligent pony, braced his feet to hold back as soon as he sensed that bud had thrown the rope. for sock had been taught that he must always do this when a steer was being roped, and though he could distinguish between a stump and an animal, bud's action seemed to call for co-operation on sock's part. the coils of the lariat whirled through the air, and, just as they were about to settle over the stump, there was a sudden movement in a leaf-filled hole beside the remains of what had once been a big tree. up out of this burrow, or hole, where he had been lying asleep among dried leaves and grass that concealed him from the boys, rose a human figure. he was so close to the stump and he rose up in such a manner leaning slightly over, as if dazed from too sudden awakening from a sound slumber, that he received the noose of bud's rope fairly about his shoulders! so suddenly did the man appear, popping out of the hole beside the stump like a jack in the box, that sock was startled, and pranced back, exactly as he would have done in order to drag a refractory steer off its feet. and this was just what took place with the man. the noose tightened about his middle and he was dragged over the flat top of the stump, yelling and shouting in protest. nort and dick did not know what to think--whether it was an accident, or a bit of play arranged for their benefit by their cousin. but a look at bud's face was enough to convince them that he was as much surprised as were they. there was a series of shrill yells of protest from the roped man--shrill language which nort and dick recognized as mexican-spanish, and then, as bud stopped his pony, and the rope loosened, the man stood up. he scowled at the boys--a menacing figure of a greaser, dirty and unkempt. "del pinzo!" gasped bud, as he recognized the fellow. "del pinzo! i didn't know you were near that stump!" the man's answer was a deeper scowl, and his hand went toward the holster at his hip--a holster that nort and dick noted with relief was empty. for del pinzo's gun had fallen out as he was dragged by bud's lasso from the hole beside the stump where he had been hiding. chapter xi bad business "my mistake, del pinzo! my mistake!" exclaimed bud, smiling as good-naturedly as possible under the circumstances. the young rancher leaped from sock (so called because he had one white foot that looked exactly as if he had on a sock) and approached the mexican, who had begun to loosen the lariat from around his body. "i sure didn't know you were there, del pinzo," went on bud, soothingly. "i was just showing these tenderfeet how to throw a rope, _pronto_,--when up you sprout, and get the benefit of it. hope i didn't ruffle you any?" asked bud. "hum! too much _pronto_!" muttered the man, but his face lost some of its scowl as he realized it had been an accident. "what's _pronto_?" whispered dick to nort, noting that his brother had half drawn his gun, though there was no need of this action. "means quick," translated bud, who overheard the question. "i was a little too quick with my rope. but i didn't know anybody was behind that stump." "nor i," said dick, while bud began gathering in the length of his lariat. "i--sleep!" said the mexican; with some of the gutturalness of the indian. "no got a right to sleep?" he asked, half sarcastically, as he recovered his gun from where it had slipped from its holster. "sure you got a right to sleep," admitted bud cheerfully. "this isn't diamond x land, nor yet double z," he added, with a quick glance around. "not that you wouldn't have a right to take a snooze if it _was_ diamond x," bud went on. "well, i reckon we'll mosey along," he said slowly, making a sign to dick and nort to mount their ponies. "got to get back to the ranch." "um!" was all the remark del pinzo made as he brushed himself off. bather a useless proceeding it would appear, for he was always dirty and unkempt to the last degree. "who is he?" asked dick of bud as the three boy ranchers rode along the homeward trail, now out of earshot of the man bud had so unceremoniously roped. "oh, he's a sort of mexican half breed," was the answer. "not very safe to have on the range during round-up." "why not?" asked nort, as he turned to catch a last glimpse of the mexican slinking off amid the foothills. "well, he and his kind don't stop to look at the brand on a steer if they happen to feel hungry," explained bud. "they'll cut one out of the herd, or appropriate a maverick, or an unbranded calf, and feast up on it. they'll skin it, salt down the hide after they blur the brand, and get away with it." "what's blurring a brand?" asked dick. "putting a hot iron on it over the brand that's already there," explained bud. "some brands can be changed from one to another without much trouble, but when this can't be done a cattle thief will simply make a botch of the brand, and it's a pretty slick ranchman who will swear, out of hundreds of steers and calves, that any particular one is his, if he can't make out the brand or earmarks clearly." "earmarks?" questioned nort. "sometimes we clip a piece out of a calf's ear," explained bud, "as well as branding 'em. each ranchman has his own particular earmark for his cattle. but either may be botched or blurred by a thief if he's cute enough." "and does this del pinzo do that?" asked nort, a little thrilled at having been in such close association with a cattle thief. "i wouldn't put it past him, and the gang he hangs out with," bud answered. "maybe that's what he was up to when i roped him." "where does he hang out?" asked dick. "he's supposed to work on the double z ranch--hank fisher's place," was the reply. "and hank doesn't bear any too good a reputation around here." "maybe he was one of the men the professors hired, and who afterward turned against them," suggested dick. "maybe," assented bud. "i'd like to know what that camp meant," he murmured as he rode on with his cousins. "if they aren't after gold, they're after something, and they're making a secret of it," declared nort. "and meeting professor wright the night an attempt was made to steal some of your cattle, bud, makes it look as if the whole outfit might be trying to rustle off stock." "yes, it might, and again it might not," said the western lad. "i'd hate to think two decent-looking men, like professor blair and professor wright, would be cattle thieves. but you never can tell. their learned appearance may be all bluff. i'd sooner think it was del pinzo and his gang. but he may be working with the professors. anyhow, they haven't got away with anything yet, and they won't if dad's boys keep their eyes open. only i would like to solve the mystery of that camp," and he looked back toward the deserted one, where some strange excavations had been made. "maybe we can trail 'em and find where they've gone," suggested dick. "oh, we could find 'em if we wanted to," said bud. "an outfit like that can't travel along in a ranch country and not leave a trail like an old buffalo wallow. but will it be worth while--that's the question? we'll soon be busy with the round-up at diamond x, and no time for trailing mysteries." "well, the round-up won't last forever," said nort, "and when it's over we can see what all this means. it'll be a pack of fun!" "it sure will!" agreed his brother, "and we can stay here till snow flies." "and then you'll want to hit the trail for home," laughed bud. "though we don't get as severe storms as they do farther north, nor do they come so early. but it's bad enough, sometimes." "what's that?" suddenly asked dick, rising in his stirrups and pointing to two or three figures of horsemen, down in a little swale, or valley. they were evidently engaged in some lively occupation, for they were riding rapidly to and fro, and from a fire, about which knelt three figures, a curl of smoke arose. "they're stealing some of your cattle now!" cried nort. "come on! we'll capture 'em!" he spurred his horse forward, an act instinctively followed by his brother. bud, too, rode after them at a fast pace, but there was a smile on his countenance. "keep your shirts on, fellows!" he advised. "that's only some of the diamond x outfit branding stray calves they come across. but it'll give you a chance to see how it's done." riding rapidly across the open plains, where, here and there as they topped little hills the boys could see cattle grazing, the boy ranchers approached the group in the swale. after a quick inspection of the oncomers, the cowboys about the fire went on with what they were doing. two of them held down on the ground a struggling calf, while the cow-mother of the little beast, lowing and shaking her head, endeavored to break past two other cowboys who were heading her away from the scene of the branding operations. for that is what was going on. some of the diamond x cowboys had come upon an unbranded calf with its mother as they rode across the prairies. as they were on their employer's land they knew the unmarked animal must belong to him, and it ought to be at once permanently identified as mr. merkel's property. it was the work of but a moment for one of the cowboys to lasso the little bawling creature, and drag it to where he wanted it. while some of the cowboys held the calf, not taking the time to "hog tie" the creature, others headed off the frantic cow-mother. then a fire was made of greasewood twigs, and the branding iron, which one of the cowboys carried at his saddle, was put in the flames to heat. when hot enough it was pressed on the flank of the calf, burning into the hair and slightly into the hide, the diamond with the x in the centre--the mark of bud's father's cattle. as the men released the calf, it staggered to its feet, uttered a feeble bawl or two, and ran to its mother, who at once began to lick with her tongue the branded place. "where you headin', bud?" asked yellin' kid watson, one of the cowboys who had been engaged in the impromptu branding operations. "headin' home," answered the rancher's son. "then you haven't heard the news?" asked snake purdee. "what news?" asked bud, while nort and dick listened eagerly. "bad business," went on yellin' kid. "a lot of your dad's choice stock was run off from the far range a while ago. tar blake just rode in and give notice. bad business!" "i should say so!" agreed bud. "who did it; greasers or some of that outfit?" and he motioned back to the camp he and his cousins had just left. chapter xii riding herd yellin' kid, snake and the other cowboys stamped out the brands of the grease-wood fire, coiled their lariats and mounted their ponies before anyone answered bud's question. he did not repeat it, knowing the character of the men to whom he was speaking. then, as old billie dobb, who might have been a foreman a dozen times over if he had only proved more reliable, spoke up and said: "we don't know who did it, bud; an' your paw don't neither! tar just rid in with th' news, as we rid out to do some fence mendin'. we wanted to stop an' hear th' particulars, but your paw said for us to mosey over this way, an' we done so. he said if we seen you boys to send you home." "we're heading that way," bud answered. "we were just over to the camp where they had trouble the other night, but they've vamoosed." "can't see what they ever come here for," spoke yellin' kid. "an' it wouldn't s'prise me a bit if them fellers proved to be the cattle rustlers." "nor me," declared nort, impulsively, thus drawing attention to himself. "well, you know all we do, bud," spoke billie dobb. "maybe your paw'll have more news by th' time you get there. tell him you met us an' that we'll be back as soon as we find th' break an' fix it. it's a big bust, the report has it, an' he don't want th' cattle to stampede out." "all right, we're going," declared bud. "come on, fellows," he called to his cousins, and they galloped away toward the ranch headquarters, while the cowboys rode on their way, yellin' kid singing at the top of his voice. the boy ranchers passed the newly branded calf, its mother still licking the burned place, but the little creature did not seem much to mind what had happened, for it was eating grass. "who broke the fence?" asked nort, as he and dick rode along on either side of bud, whose horsemanship they were trying to imitate. "hard to say," was the answer. "sometimes it's greasers, and again indians, who hope to get a few cattle in the confusion if a herd gets out. then again something may have frightened the cattle themselves, and in a rush they may have broken through. generally it's the cattle themselves, and then we have to rush a bunch of cowboys to mend the break, some of 'em stringing new wire while others keep the steers, cows and calves from coming out on the open range." "say, there's been a lot of excitement since we came here!" declared nort, his eyes shining in delight at the prospect of more. "oh, there's always more or less going on like this," said bud. "if it isn't one thing it's another, though i must say we haven't had anything like those queer professors in some time." "i'd like to know what their game really is," remarked dick. "so would i!" exclaimed his more impulsive brother. "and i'd like to catch 'em at it when i had my gun loaded," and he tapped significantly the . on his hip. "don't be too fast with gun play," advised bud calmly. "you'll find, if you ever become a rancher, that you'll use more powder on coyotes, rattlers and in driving cattle the way you want 'em to go, than you will on humans. there isn't so much shooting out here as the writers of some books would make out." "well, if there's only a little, i'll be satisfied," said nort. they reached the headquarters of diamond x ranch without mishap, save that dick's pony stepped into a prairie dog's hole, and threw his rider over his head. but dick was rather stout, and cushioned with flesh as he was, a severe shaking-up was all the harm he suffered. "they're nasty things at night--prairie dogs' burrows," said bud. "but mostly a pony can see 'em in time to side-step. yours just didn't--that's all." "yes, he--didn't!" laughed dick, as he climbed back into the saddle. there was enough excitement at diamond x ranch to please even excitable nort. as the other cowboys had said, one of mr. merkel's men from a distant ranch--square m, to be exact--had ridden in to report that during the early morning hours several head of choice steers, that were being gotten ready for a rising market, had been driven off by rustlers. leaving his companions in charge of the remaining cattle, tar blake--who got his name from his very black whiskers--had ridden to headquarters to give the alarm. "well, we'll see if we can trail these scoundrels!" declared mr. merkel, as bud and his cousins rode up. "can't we go, dad?" asked bud, as eagerly as nort would have spoken. "maybe it's the bunch from the queer professors' camp. let us trail along!" "nope!" was the short answer from mr. merkel. "i've got other plans for you," he added quickly, and in a tone that took the sting out of his refusal. "you'll have plenty of excitement," he went on, "so don't look so down in the mouth, son. get something to eat, and then pack your outfit for a few days. you've got to ride herd, while i pull in as many men as i can spare to trail these rustlers." "what herd, dad?" asked bud. "over by square m?" and he named the ranch where the thieving had taken place that morning. "no, i want you to help haze that bunch from triangle b over to the railroad yard. they've been showing signs of uneasiness, and i don't want 'em to bolt when they're on the last stretch. you'll find 'em over by the bend. ride there, and tell charlie smith and hen wagner to come in. you'll relieve them. dirk blanchard will be with you, and so will chot ramsey, and you three ought to be able to bed 'em down to-night. drive 'em along easy. dirk knows how to do it, and there's plenty of water along the way. don't hurry 'em; if you do they'll work off all their fat, and beef is too high now to waste it by running it off the hoof. mosey along now!" and the ranchman turned from bud to give other orders. nort and dick, with one accord, started forward, but their cousin anticipated their appeal. "can't nort and dick come with me, dad?" asked bud. "sure thing--if they want to," answered mr. merkel. "as if we wouldn't want to!" murmured nort. "oh, boy!" "say! it'll be great--riding herd!" exclaimed dick. several hours later found the boy ranchers within sight of the four hundred or more steers and cows they were to guard, and gradually head over to the railroad stock yards, whence they would be shipped to a distant city, there to be sold to the profit of mr. merkel. "whoop-ee!" came a distant hail from one of the cowboys left to guard the triangle b cattle. "zip-sippy!" yelled bud in answer, and a little later he was introducing his cousins to the cowboys. "oh, boy! rustlers!" cried charlie smith, when informed that he and hen wagner were to form part of the pursuing posse. "just my rotten luck, i have to stay here!" complained dirk, while chot, to voice his disapproval of having to remain behind, slapped his pony with his hat and rode off over the prairie, only to return as fast as he went. it was his way of letting off steam. the two cowboys, who were to join the bunch from diamond x ranch, departed in haste, and then bud and his cousins made preparations for spending several nights and days in the open, riding herd and hazing the cattle to their destination. it was the season of warm nights, as well as days, though there was a certain coolness after dark. no tents were set up. each man, or boy, was provided with a canvas tarpaulin, which was all the protection needed. the prairie itself would be their beds, their saddles their pillows and the grass a combination mattress and spring. they had packed enough food with them, and, if needed, a calf could be killed and eaten. there were water holes in plenty--in fact, they could live off the land. over a fire of greasewood, while the hobbled ponies rolled on the ground, the bacon was soon sizzling and the coffee brewing. "gosh, but i'm hungry!" cried nort. "you said something!" declared his brother, while bud and the others smiled at the fresh enthusiasm of the easterners. there was really not much to do after darkness had settled down, for the cattle were comparatively quiet, and after a full day of eating the sweet grass, having drunk their fill of water, they were content to lie under the silent stars. but in order that none of the steers might start to stray away, and start a stampede, also in order that no thieves might sneak up in the darkness and "cut out" choice cattle, by this very operation also starting a panic, it was necessary to "ride herd." that is, the cowboys, of whom nort and dick now counted themselves two, took turns in slowly riding around the bunched cattle during the night hours. as the early hours were always the ones when it was most likely trouble would happen, the two veteran cowboys volunteered for this service, leaving bud and his cousins to make their beds, such as they were, near the little fire. the boy ranchers would relieve the others after midnight. so, wrapped in their tarpaulins, their heads resting on their saddles, and their feet to the fire, the three boys looked up at the silent stars. they talked in low voices at first, for the voice of man is soothing to cattle. now and then some cow lowed, or a steer snorted or bellowed. but, in the main, the animals were silent. and to this state bud and his cousins soon came, for they were tired with their rather long ride late that afternoon. "i wonder if any rustlers will come here?" spoke dick to his brother, when bud's regular breathing told that he had fallen asleep. "don't know--wish they would," nort answered, half drowsily. "well, i'm ready for 'em," murmured dick, as he felt of his gun where it lay in its holster at his side, though he had loosened his belt to lie down. the night became more silent and colder. the two other cowboys were on the far side of the herd now, working around in opposite circles, meeting and passing one another. it would soon be time for them to turn in, and bud and his cousins to turn out. nort was turning over to get into a more comfortable position, when he heard something hiss through the air with a swishing sound. for an instant he thought of rattlesnakes, but almost at once it was borne to his mind that he had heard this sound before--the swish of a lariat through the air. he sat up quickly, straining his eyes in the direction of the sound. just then a piece of the greasewood burned up brightly, and revealed to nort this sight. from somewhere in the darkness, beyond the circle of light, a lariat had coiled in among the lads. and as nort looked, the coils settled over the head of his brother dick. before nort could cry a warning, or scramble from under his tarpaulin, the rope tightened and dick was pulled from his resting place near the fire out into the darkness, his frightened yells awakening the echoes, and startling the cattle into uneasy action. chapter xiii the attempt foiled it was only a moment that surprise held nort motionless, sitting up there by the small fire of greasewood twigs, with the bunch of cattle moving uneasily in the darkness. then, with a yell that had in it both warning and encouragement, nort scrambled to his feet and made a grab for dick, who was being dragged off in the loop of a lariat, the other end being manipulated by some one unseen. "hold it, dick! hold it!" cried nort, as, many a time he had thus shouted encouragement to his brother on the football field. "hold it!" but dick was unable to do this. taken at a disadvantage, awakened from a half-sleep as he was, and dragged from a fairly comfortable bed, he was puzzled and confused, not to say frightened. but he was capable of yelling, and this he did to the best of his ability. "here! quit that! let up! what you doing?" shouted dick, for, as he said afterward, he thought it was one of the cowboys playing a trick on him, hazing a tenderfoot, perhaps, though dick proudly imagined that he was fast graduating from that class. the yells of the two brothers naturally awakened bud who, being more used to sleeping in the open than were his cousins, had almost at once gone soundly to sleep. but it did not take the young rancher long to rouse himself. "what's the matter? what's going on?" shouted bud, and nort had a glimpse of his cousin with his gun in his hand. this reminded nort that he had left his weapon under his tarpaulin, and he made a dash to get it, mentally blaming himself for not proving more true to his idea of the traditions of the west, and having his revolver always with him. with a quick motion of his foot, bud shoved some unburned sticks of greasewood into the blaze. they flared up, and the young ranchman wheeled quickly, and tried to pierce the gloom into which dick had been dragged. but that lad had not been idle during this strenuous time. he had felt the lariat tightening about the upper part of his body, and he had let out a frightened yell. but he had done more than yell. he had grasped the rope with both hands, in a quick, upward motion, and had succeeded in slipping it off, over his head, a task he would have been unable to perform had his enemy had daylight in his favor. but, as it was, dick succeeded in escaping the noose. "who is it? who did that?" yelled dick, as he managed to get to his feet, and staggered back toward his tarpaulin, evidently with the intention of seeking his gun. but there came no answer out of the gloom. bud and nort hurried over to dick, who was rather dazed and ruffled up from the experience he had undergone. "hurt?" asked nort, quickly. "not to speak of," answered dick. "was that one of the boys?" he asked, turning to bud. "one of our cowboys? no, they don't do such things," was the answer. "it must have been----" he was interrupted by the rapid thuds of hoofs and, an instant later, there dashed into the circle of light dirk and chot, two of the men who had been left when the others rode away to get on the trail of the rustlers. "what's the matter?" exclaimed dirk, reining in his pony so suddenly that the animal slid with his forefeet almost in the embers of the fire. "somebody tried to rope dick," answered bud. "i didn't see it, but i had a glimpse of him being dragged off on the end of a lariat." "i saw it come shooting in from out there," and nort waved his hand toward the darkness. "i _felt_ it!" grimly declared dick. "i just managed to slip it off in time." "you were lucky," commented chot. "let's see who it was," he added. "couldn't have been any of our lads," he said in a low voice. "i've known 'em to do such tricks, but not at a time like this. might have been some fresh puncher from double z, but if it was----" "come on!" interrupted dirk, satisfied from a glance that no harm had befallen dick. dirk wheeled his horse and rode off into the darkness, in the direction where the end of the lariat had disappeared, when the unseen thrower had pulled it to him after dick's escape. the two cowboys, who had been on the far side of the herd, had ridden hurriedly in on hearing the cries of the startled boys. and now they rushed off in the darkness, trying to find out who it was that had displayed such evil intentions. for it was a desperate thing to do. a little higher up and the rope would have encircled dick's neck, and it would have taken only a short time of pulling him across the ground to have choked him. he, himself, did not realize his danger until later. for a few moments, after the arrival of dirk and chot from the far side of the resting herd, and their subsequent dash off into the darkness, bud, nort and dick did nothing. they stood there around the greasewood fire, trying to understand clearly what had happened. then, from the herd of cattle came unmistakable signs of some disturbance. there were snorts and bellows, the mooing of cows and the stamping of hoofs. at the same time, from the far side, whence dirk and chot had ridden in, there came the murmur of voices. "rustlers!" cried bud, understanding at once what it all meant now. "dirk! chot! come on back! the rustlers are here! it's a trick! come on back!" "rustlers!" exclaimed nort. "yes!" shouted bud. "that's their game! they tried to scare us so they could work in from the other side, and run off a bunch of steers. dirk! chot!" he cried again, making a megaphone of his hands, and sending his cry out into the night. "whoo-oop!" came faintly back to the boys, and then the thud of rapidly moving hoofs mingled with the movement of the cattle. for the steers and cows that were being hazed to the railroad yard were now in motion. "put some more wood on!" cried bud. "if they stampede this way it may hold 'em back!" "will they stampede?" asked dick. "no telling. somebody's in among 'em, over on that side, trying to cut out a bunch. we've got to held 'em in if we can! get on your ponies!" it was the work of but a few seconds to do this. the ponies had been staked out not far from the fire, which was now burning brightly from the amount of greasewood piled on it. bud was first in the saddle, but his cousins were not far behind him. and, as they mounted, and started to ride around the herd, to hold the now frightened and uneasy animals in check, dirk and chot galloped in out of the distant darkness. "what's the matter?" shouted dirk. "rustlers!" yelled bud. "they tried that lasso stunt to draw you in from the far side, and now they're over there trying to cut out some steers." "well, i guess we'll have something to say about that!" grimly observed chot. "come on!" clapping spurs to his pony, he and dirk began the work of milling the cattle--that is, getting them to move around in a circle rather than dash off in a straight line stampede. this turning of the herd, into a circular instead of a straight movement, is the only way to save the lives of the animals, or prevent them from being driven off by thieves. dick and nort had been on diamond x ranch long enough to understand what was being attempted, and they joined with bud in the work. as chot and dirk rode back to take the stations they had left, firing their guns and shouting to turn the leaders, bud and his cousins did the same in their locality. as yet they had caught no sight of the rustlers, but it was very evident that these unscrupulous men were at work, trying to drive off some of the valuable animals, all fattened and ready for market. confused shouts came from the direction where chot and dirk had ridden. "lively, boys! lively!" cried bud to the two easterners, and he fired his gun in the air as he rode toward the cattle that seemed inclined to dash past the circle of firelight. following their cousin, dick and nort dashed in, also firing, and the five cowboys--for dick and nort were now entitled to be called that--finally succeeded in milling the cattle, and preventing the stampede. but it was hard work and it was nearly morning before the steers were quieted down after the excitement. the attempt of the rustlers had been foiled, for that time at least. chapter xiv the stampede "well, what do you make of it?" asked bud of dirk and chot, when all five had the first moment of respite from the strenuous work of quieting the excited cattle. they had met near the fire, which was only glowing dully, now that its flame was not needed to head off the steers. "don't just know what to say," answered the older cowboy. "it all came so sudden." "there must be two bands of rustlers around here," observed chot. "that is, unless those your dad is after, bud, gave him the slip and tried to operate here." "maybe there's only one gang, divided up for the night," suggested nort. "well, of course it's only guesswork," stated bud, "but i think this was an altogether different gang trying to put one over on us. and another thing--it was a greaser who roped dick." "a greaser!" cried chot. "what makes you think so?" "i had a glimpse of the noose," said bud. "it wasn't tied the way any cow puncher ties his. it was a greaser or i'll never speak to zip foster again!" "oh, you and your zip foster!" scoffed chot. "but it may be that it was a sneakin' mex trying his hand with the rope. you didn't see him, did you?" and he turned to dick. "no. the first i knew i was being snaked off, and i was mighty scared." "naturally," said dirk dryly. he wanted to let the tenderfoot know that it was not considered unmanly to show signs of fear under the circumstances. "did you get a look at 'em, chot?" asked bud, turning to the cowboys. "i mean when you rode out there just before they tried to stampede us." "didn't see hide nor hair of 'em," was the answer. "well, they didn't get away with what they started after," declared dirk. "and now, since it's so near morning, there isn't much use turning in until we have something to eat." "i'll make coffee and sizzle some bacon," offered bud, for he realized that he and his cousins had had some rest during the fore part of the night, while the cowboys were riding herd before the disturbance happened. "and can't we circle around the cattle?" asked nort. "we could keep 'em quiet while you ate," suggested dick. "they seem to be fairly quiet now," remarked dirk, "but it wouldn't do any harm to circle around 'em. if you have trouble, though," he added quickly, "fire your guns." "we will!" exclaimed nort, as he and dick sprang for their horses. the boy ranchers were eager thus to take their first tour of duty alone, and they were much disappointed when nothing happened. the steers were quiet, after their tiresome racing around in a circle. but that was better than having them stampede, with the possible killing of many. slowly the light grew in the east, turning from pale gray to rose tints, and then the sun came up, making the dew-laden grass sparkle brightly. the cattle, many of which had been lying down, got up, rear ends first, which is what always distinguishes the manner of a "cow critter" arising from that of a horse. across the range blew wisps of smoke from the greasewood camp fire, and then came the smell of bacon and coffee, than which there is no aroma more to be desired in the world. "um!" murmured nort, sniffing the air. "isn't that great?" cried his brother. "it will be, if we can get some," said nort, chuckling. but he need not have worried, for, a few minutes later, there floated to the ears of the boy ranchers the call of bud: "come an' get it!" the cattle, around which they had been slowly riding, needed no attention now, and in a short time the five cowboys--for nort and dick could truly be called by this name now--were eating an early breakfast. "one good thing came out of this fracas, anyhow," observed chot, as he passed his plate for more flapjacks and bacon, and replenished his tin cup with coffee. "what's that?" asked dick, feeling his neck where the rough rope had broken the skin slightly. "well, we'll get an early start," answered the cowboy, "and that's a lot when you're hazing steers to the railroad. every pound counts for the boss, and you can easily run off a thousand dollars by driving 'em along during the heat of the day. we can let 'em rest at noon if we start now." "that's the idea," said bud. a little later, the remains of the camp fire having been carefully stamped out, to prevent dry grass from catching, packs were slung up behind the saddles--said packs consisting of sleeping canvas, a few utensils and grub--and the start was made. the cattle were gradually headed in the direction it was desired that they should take--the shortest route to the railroad. nort rode up ahead with chot, while dick, bud and dirk kept to the rear to haze along the stragglers. there was not much trouble. the cattle had been watered and fed, and were in prime condition. at noon a halt was made to save the animals during the excessive heat, but toward evening they started off once more, and traveled until darkness fell. camp was made again out in the open. during the day no signs were seen of any rustlers, or other suspicious characters, and at night the young ranchers and the older cowboys took turns riding herd and standing guard. but nothing of moment occurred, the only sounds, aside from those made by the cattle themselves, being the unearthly yells and howls of the coyotes. in less than three days the bunch of cattle was safely delivered at the yards, where the responsibility of bud and his companions ended, the buyer taking charge of them for shipment. "did you get the rustlers, dad?" asked bud as he and his cousins, with dirk and chot, rode up to the ranch buildings after their successful trip. "no," answered mr. merkel, who was out waiting for his son and the others. "they got clean away." "did you see who they were?" asked dirk. "well, i have my suspicions," answered the ranchman. "and i'm not through yet. how'd you make out, boys?" they told him of the night scare and dick's narrow escape, and the eyes of bud's father glinted in anger. "up to tricks like that, are they?" he exclaimed. "well, i'd like to catch 'em at it!" "do you know what i think?" exclaimed bud with energy. "well, son, i can't say i do," spoke his father. "you generally skip around so like a jack rabbit, it's hard telling where you are. but shoot! what's your trouble?" "my trouble is," said bud slowly, "that i don't know enough about those professors and their gang!" "the professors!" exclaimed nort and dick. "that's what i said," went on bud. "i think their pretended search for something is only a bluff. they're high-grade cattle rustlers, that's what i think!" no one said anything for a few moments, and then mr. merkel remarked: "well, maybe you're right, bud. stranger things have happened. it might pay us to trail these fellows. certainly there was something queer about them." "mighty queer," agreed bud. "i began to suspect them after they tried to lasso dick." "do you think one of those men--professor wright or professor blair--tried to snake me off?" asked dick. "well, no, not one of them, personally," admitted bud. "they couldn't throw a rope over a molasses barrel. but they set some one up to it, i'll say!" "maybe," spoke mr. merkel musingly. "we'll have a look at their trail, if we can pick it up. but we've got a lot else to do first." indeed diamond x ranch was a busy place in those days. dick and nort could not have come at a better time, and they were such apt pupils that they soon acquired many of the ways of the cowboys, who were willing and anxious to teach them. in a comparatively short time the two "tenderfeet" were no longer called that. they could shoot fairly well, though they were not "quick on the draw," and they were becoming more and more expert with the rope every day. it was about two weeks after their experience with the unknown user of the lariat that bud and his cousins were sent to ride herd at the square m ranch, which was one of mr. merkel's holdings. he was planning to get a bunch of steers there ready for shipment, and a buyer was to come and look them over when they had been headed in from the open range to a large corral. bud and his cousins were to help drive the animals in. square m ranch, so called because the brand was the letter m in a square, was a good two days' ride from diamond x. but the boys had a fine time going, and found plenty to do when they arrived. gradually the cattle were gathered up, and worked toward the corral. they were within a day's ride of this haven, when, one afternoon, as bud, dick and nort were moving on ahead of the bunch, which was driven by several cowboys, bud looked back and let out a yell. "what's the matter?" cried nort. "stampede!" was the answer, "oh, boy! now look out for trouble!" chapter xv lost nort and dick had heard and read so much about a cattle stampede, and heard such a calamity discussed at the ranch house so often, that they rather welcomed, than otherwise, the announcement that one was being staged near them. this was before they realized the full import of it, and saw the danger. it was like a prairie fire--they had not realized it could be so terrible and menacing until they actually saw it. and see it they did. there was needed but a quick backward glance to show that a great fear, or rage, which is almost the same, had entered into the three hundred steers (more or less) that were being driven onward. at one moment the cattle had been progressing in what might be termed orderly fashion. now and then a steer would try to break out of the line of march, only to be quickly hazed in again by one of the cowboys, or one of the trio of boy ranchers. but now the whole herd had suddenly been galvanized into action, and that action took the form of running forward at top speed. it would not have been so bad, perhaps, if the stampede had started from in front. if the forward ranks of cattle had begun to race onward, those behind would simply have followed, and there would gradually have been a slackening up. of course then there would have been some danger, for the front steers might have slowed down first, while those at the rear still came on, trampling under their sharp hoofs those who were unlucky enough to fall. but, as it happened, the fright had first seized on the rear bunches of cattle and these had started to run, charging in upon those in front of them, who, in turn, were hurled forward until now, a few seconds after bud had shouted the alarm, the whole herd was in wild motion. "come on!" yelled bud. "ride for it! oh, zowie, boy! ride for it! ride like zip foster would!" and with voice, reins and spurs he urged his pony forward. "what do you aim to do?" shouted dick in his cousin's ear as the two thudded along side by side. "we've got to get far enough ahead so we can try to turn 'em!" yelled bud. "it's our only chance. ride straight ahead!" nort spurred up alongside of his cousin and brother, and, as he did so he yelled: "what you s'pose started 'em off, bud?" "haven't any time to do any s'posin' now!" was the grim answer. "ride on and say your prayers that your pony doesn't step in a prairie dog's hole. if he does--and you fall--good night!" the recent tenderfeet knew, without being told, what was meant. to go down before a herd of wild cattle, infuriated because they were frightened, would mean sure death and in horrible form. as nort looked back, to see what distance lay between himself and comrades, and the foremost of the herd, he saw several figures on horseback at one side of the running animals. at first he imagined these were diamond x cowboys who had been in the rear of the steers, and he thought they had ridden up to help the boy ranchers turn the stampeded animals. but another look showed him the men who had been in the rear still in those positions, though they were spurring forward at top speed. "look, bud!" cried nort. he pointed to the four figures--there were no more than that--at the left of the galloping herd. "rustlers--greasers!" shouted bud. "they started this stampede!" "what for?" dick wanted to know. "they can't hope to run off any under our eyes, can they?" "they're doing it to get fresh meat!" declared bud, who never ceased, all this while, to urge his pony forward, an example followed by his cousins with their horses. "they think some steer, or maybe half a dozen, will fall and be trampled to death. then they'll have all the beef they can eat--for nothing. they started this stampede, or i'll never speak to zip foster again." by this time, knowing bud as they did, nort and dick had ceased to ask about the mysterious zip foster. but nort could not forego the question: "how'd they do it?" "do what?" grunted bud, as he skillfully turned his pony away from a prairie dog's hole. "start this stampede." "hanged if i know. they might have been lying in wait for us to come along--hidden out on the range, and they may have all jumped up with whoops, waving their hats, and setting the steers off that way, when we didn't happen to be looking. but that's where the disturbance came from all right!" with snorts, bellows and heavy breathing the steers came on. some were old texas longhorns, but many of the cattle on the diamond x ranch, and the adjacent possessions of mr. merkel, had been dehorned. it was found that more animals could be packed in a car when they had no interfering horns, and the practice is becoming general of taking the horns off western stock. but even though some were without horns, this herd was sufficiently dangerous. the first thought of bud and his cousins was to put all the distance possible between them and the foremost of the steers. this they had now done. and it was becoming evident that unless some of the leaders tripped and went down, there was to be no disastrous piling up of animals one on the other. the leaders ran well, and the others followed. the rustlers, if such they were, seemed to realize that their desperate plan had failed, for, so far, not a beef had fallen. and the greasers, off to one side, dared not try to cut out, and run off, any animals. to have ventured into the midst of that charging herd would have been madness. "come on! let's see if we can turn 'em!" urged bud, drawing his gun, an example followed by nort and dick. led by the son of the owner of diamond x, the boy ranchers charged down on the oncoming herd, from which they had just ridden away. but now they had the advantage. they stood a better chance. if they could turn the leaders, sending them in a circle, the other animals would follow, and soon the whole bunch would be "milling," which is the most desired way to stop a stampede. "come on! come a ridin'! whoop-ee!" shrilly cried bud, yelling, waving his hat in one hand and firing in the air with his gun. nort and dick did likewise. straight at the cattle they rode. it was a desperate chance, but one that had to be taken. bud knew, if the others did not, that about a mile beyond lay a gully, led up to by a cliff, and if the steers and cows reached this, the leaders unable to stop, while the rear ranks pushed on, there would be a mass of piled-up, dead cattle to tell the story. "we've got to stop 'em!" shouted bud. and stop them, or, rather, turn them, the boy ranchers did. just when it seemed that the wild animals would rush over, and trample down the three lads, the foremost of the steers turned at a sharp angle, their hoofs skidding in the soil, and swung around. "now we've got 'em!" cried bud. "make 'em mill! make 'em mill!" and this is what the cattle did. around and around they ran, in a big, dusty circle, while the other diamond x cowboys rode up. "that was touch and go," said one of the older riders, when the herd was comparatively quiet. "what started 'em off, bud?" "didn't you see that bunch of greasers?" asked the rancher's son. the cowboys had not, it developed, and now, when the three boys tried to point out the rascals the quartette was not in sight. however, something else took the attention of bud and the older cowboys. this something was a small bunch of steers, galloping off by themselves, but not being hazed by any riders. "we can't lose them!" shouted bud. "they belong to dad! got to get 'em back!" "we'll go after 'em," offered nort and dick. "we can bring 'em back." "yes, i reckon you can, while we ride herd on these," said bud. "i don't want to take any more chances with 'em. haze the outlaws back this way, fellows!" eager to have this responsibility, and to do something "on their own," dick and his brother spurred away. and before they realized it, nort and dick found themselves down in a depression, whence they could catch sight neither of the small knot of cattle they had started out to haze back, nor the main herd. "say, where are we?" asked dick, slowing up his pony, and looking about him. he and nort were down in a green valley, with hills all around, but no sign of life--animal or human. "where are we?" nort paused a moment before replying. then, as he drew rein and listened, he said: "lost, i reckon!" chapter xvi the vision though nort spoke with an appearance of calmness, there was something in his voice that made dick catch his breath. it was not that the younger lad was exactly afraid, but he was on the verge of becoming so. "lost, eh?" repeated dick. then, as he saw a half smile on nort's face, and looked about on what was really a beautiful scene, his little worry seemed to vanish as mists roll away in the sun. "well, if we're lost it isn't such a bad place to be in, and i reckon we can easily find our way back. 'tisn't like being lost in the woods, as we once were." "no," agreed nort, "it isn't." they had gone camping once, with their father, and had wandered off in a forest, being "lost" all night, though, as it developed later, not far from their own folks. "and i don't see why we can't easily ride back the way we came," went on dick. "we can, if we find the way," agreed nort. "but i seem all turned around. and i don't like to go back without those cattle. we offered to ride off after 'em and bring 'em back, and we ought to do it." "but where are they?" asked dick, "and where's the main herd? that isn't so small that you could hide it in one of these valleys!" they were, as i have said, in the midst of a rolling country, where swales or valleys were interspersed with hills. one moment they had held in view the small bunch of steers that had wandered away from the main herd, but, in another instant, there was no sign of them. "listen, and see if you can hear anything," suggested nort. quietly the boy ranchers sat on their horses; the only sounds being the creaking of the damp saddle and stirrup leathers as the animals moved slightly. but there was no sound of lowing cows or snorting steers, and there came to the ears of nort and dick no distant shouts of bud and the cowboys, though the main herd, with the men in charge, could not have been more than two miles away. but, for all that, our heroes were as completely isolated as though a hundred miles distant from civilization. "i can't understand it!" murmured dick. "nor i," said nort, "it's just as if those cattle had dropped out of sight in a hole in the ground. maybe they did, dick." "what do you mean?" asked his brother. "i mean maybe those mysterious professors have been digging big mining holes around here, and that bunch of steers we were chasing just naturally slipped into one. we'd better look out, or we'll drop out of sight ourselves!" though he spoke half jokingly, there was some seriousness in nort's voice, and dick realized it. "those professors sure are queer, with their digging operations," dick agreed. "i'd like to know what they are after, and why they're hanging around diamond x." "well, i'd like to know that, too," said nort, "but first of all i'd like to know our way out of this place. there must be some way out, as we didn't have any trouble finding a way in." "of course we can get out," dick answered. "there aren't any trees to amount to anything, and we aren't fenced in. we can ride in any direction we like, and i say let's ride somewhere." "i'm with you," spoke his brother. "but the only trouble is we might be riding farther and farther away from bud and the rest of the fellows. why not try to locate that bunch of cattle we're after? they'll be heading directly away from the main herd, i take it, and if we locate them all we'll have to do will be to drive them right about face, and we'll get back where we belong." "all right, let's find the steers," assented dick. they started their ponies, which, doubtless, had been glad of the little breathing spell. but it was one thing to say find the missing steers, and another to do it. one swale seemed to so melt in with an adjoining one, and one hill to merge with its mate, that they all looked alike to the boys, who, as it developed afterward, kept working their way farther and farther off from their friends. "hang those steers! where are they, anyhow?" exclaimed nort after half an hour of search, during which no signs had been seen. "let's try over this way," suggested dick, turning to the left. though it might seem that in a fairly open country, composed of hills and vales, it would be hard to hide a bunch of cattle, still nort and dick, to their chagrin, did not find it difficult. they were completely baffled, and the longer they searched the more puzzled they were. "well, there's one thing about it," remarked dick, when they drew rein, "we shan't starve right away, and if we have to stay out all night we have the same accommodations we have had before," and he tapped the tarpaulin which formed part of his saddle pack. "oh, yes, we can camp out if we have to," agreed nort, "and i shan't mind that. but it's our failure to do the first job we tackled 'on our own' that gets my goat. bud will sure think we're tenderfeet for fair!" "yes, that is bad," agreed dick. "but it can't be helped. i never did see anything like the sudden way those cattle disappeared, and how we got lost." for that they were now completely lost, amid the low hills, was an accepted fact to the boys. they had ridden here and there, until, in mercy to their ponies, they pulled reins. yet they had gotten no farther on their way, nor had they seen sign of the cattle. it was growing late, too, and they realized that soon they must find a camping place for the night, unless they located the homeward trail. of course to bud, or any of the older cowboys of diamond x ranch, the problem that puzzled nort and dick would have been easy to solve. knowing the country as they did, the cowboys could easily have sensed which way to ride, even though the bunch of cattle might have eluded them. but the two easterners did not even know which way to head to get back to their friends. they were completely lost and turned about, and their situation was growing more desperate. i say "desperate," yet that word is used only in a comparative sense. they were in no immediate danger, for they were in the clean, open country, and not in a tangled forest or jungle. there were no wild beasts near, only peaceful cows and steers. they had coverings for the night, and greasewood shrubs, as well as a tree here and there amid the foothills, offered fuel for a fire. they had a small amount of "grub" with them, and they had passed several springs of water, so they would not thirst, and they had the means of making coffee, though no milk was at hand. so, all in all, their situation was not at all "desperate," though it was perhaps annoying. "let's fire our guns!" exclaimed nort suddenly. "we forgot all about them. bud told us they were mainly used for signaling out here, and we might let him and the rest know where we are by firing a few shots." "sure! go to it!" agreed dick. "but don't fire too many cartridges," he added. "why not?" "well, there's no telling when we may want the shells, and we haven't any too many." "that's so," agreed nort. "well, we'll each fire two, at intervals." this they did, but such echoes were aroused amid the hills by the reverberations of the reports that the lads doubted whether bud and the other cowboys could accurately determine whence the sound of the firing came. "we've done our best," said nort, after the fourth shot had gone echoing among the hills. "now let's ride on a little, and if we don't get out, or find those cattle, we'll pick a good place to camp for the night." this struck dick as being the best thing to do and they urged their tired ponies forward. dick was casting his looks about, seeking for a suitable place to make the night camp, when he was attracted by a shout from nort, who was off to one side. "did you find 'em?" cried dick, eagerly. "the cattle or our cowboys?" "no, but look!" yelled nort. "we're coming to a city!" he pointed toward the east and there, on the far side of a green valley, amid green hills, was the vision of a small city, on the banks of a good-sized river. as the boys watched they saw a steamer come up to a dock and stop, though the scene was too far away to give them more details. "now we're all right!" yelled dick. but, even as he spoke the vision faded from the eyes of the startled boys. it melted from sight as do some moving pictures, when the "fade out" is used. it was as though a veil of mist came between the vision and the boys, or as if some giant hand had wiped it from a great slate with a damp sponge. chapter xvii the night camp "well, what do you know about that?" exclaimed nort, as he turned to look at his brother, when the vision of the city on the river bank had disappeared. "were we dreaming, or did we really see something?" asked dick, passing his hand over his eyes in dazed fashion. "we saw something all right," asserted nort, "and i'm wondering if i saw the same thing you did--a city--the steamer and----" "i saw it, too," declared dick, interrupting his brother's recital. "but where did it go? a fog must have rolled up between us and it. but now we know which way to ride. i don't know what town that was, but they can tell us how to get back to diamond x ranch." "it's queer," murmured nort, as dick urged his horse in the direction of the vision they had just beheld. "what's queer?" asked dick. "seeing that town," his brother went on. "bud never said anything about the ranch being so near a place where they had a river steamer. there isn't a boat of that size on the river around here." "no," assented dick. "this must be farther down. anyhow, let's hit the trail for there. we aren't lost any more, i reckon." "doesn't seem," murmured nort. but, even as the two brothers urged their tired, broncos forward, another strange thing happened. in the very same place where they had seen the vision of the town and the steamer, only to witness it vanish, there appeared in sharp detail a large ranch, with its corrals, its bunk house and main buildings. "there! look!" cried dick. "there's diamond x!" nort shaded his eyes with his hands, and peered long and earnestly. "diamond x!" he murmured. "that isn't our ranch! our bunk house isn't so near the corral, and, besides----" then, even as he spoke, this vision vanished as had the other, being wiped out of sight; fading slowly as if some unseen operator in a movie booth had cut off his light. the brothers turned and stared at one another. suddenly the truth dawned upon them. "a _mirage_!" exclaimed nort. "that's what!" assented dick. "two mirages! we saw one after the other, a city and a ranch in the same place!" and that is what the visions had been--mirages, those strange phenomena of the west--of desert places--natural occurrences in localities where the air is abnormally clear, and where conditions combine to transpose distant scenes. of course the explanation is simple enough. of the mirage the dictionary says it is "an optical illusion arising from an unequal refraction in the lower strata of the atmosphere, causing images of remote objects to be seen double, distorted or inverted as if reflected in a mirror, or to appear as if suspended in the air." the word comes from a latin one, meaning "to look at," and that is about all you can do to a mirage--look at it. it is as unsubstantial as the air in which it is formed. there are many varieties of mirages seen in the west, and if the boys had seen a double one, or had the vision of the city and ranch been inverted, they might have sooner guessed the secret of it. but the particular mirages they had viewed had, through some trick of air refraction, been imposed on their eyesight rightside up, and wonderfully clear. i do not suppose all the stories that have been written of mirages are true, but it is certain that many strange tricks have been played on the eyesight of observers by these phenomena, and more than one luckless prospector, or cattleman, has followed these visions, only to be tantalized in the end by finding, just as nort and dick did, that they merely vanished, dissolving into nothing. telling of their experiences afterward, nort and dick declared that when they had visualized the steamer moving up to her dock, they had actually seen figures disembarking. "that _couldn't_ be!" declared bud. "your eyes must have been blinking and you _thought_ you saw figures. i've been fooled by mirages myself, but though you might make out something as large as a steamer moving, i never yet saw one of these visions clear enough so that you could make out people moving about. you can see a town, or a ranch, sometimes right side up, and sometimes upside down, but you can't make out people. i won't say that it is impossible, but i've never seen it, nor heard of anyone who has," the boy rancher concluded. "well, it was wonderful enough as it was," declared nort, and even those who have seen many mirages will agree with this, i think. "well, that sure was queer!" exclaimed nort, rubbing his eyes again. "and to think we might have ridden off, and tried to get to that ranch, or city." "i thought sure it was diamond x," declared dick. "well, i knew it wasn't, as soon as i saw how the buildings were located. but i thought it was some ranch. bud told me about these mirages, though i never thought they were as plain as that." "they sure do fool you!" laughed dick. "and now, before we get led astray by any more, let's get settled for the night. it looks as if we'd have to stay here." "yes, it does," agreed nort. he looked in the direction where the strange images had appeared in the air, seemingly suspended between the heaven and the earth. there were no more of the visions, the declining sun doubtless being in such a position as no longer to produce the necessary refraction, or bending of the light rays. "here's water," spoke nort, pointing to a spring bubbling out of the side of the hill. "we'll make a fire, and cook what we have." "but not all of it," stipulated dick. "we've got to save some for to-morrow. no telling how long we may be out on our own." "that's right," agreed nort. "though when our bacon and flour give out we can get one of those fellows--maybe," and he pointed to a big jack rabbit, almost as large as a dog, loping away. "yes, bud says they're good eating," assented dick. "the only thing is, can we knock one over with our guns?" "i'm not much of a shot, yet, but then a fellow ought to hit one of those jacks--when he isn't running," qualified nort, for the speed of these rabbits of the plains is almost beyond belief. indeed they put the speediest horse on his mettle, and a greyhound, or a similar breed of dog, is the only canine that can compete with them. "yes, no use shooting when they start racing," agreed dick. the lads slipped from their ponies, taking off the saddles which, later, they would use as pillows. and immediately the cow horses were relieved of their back burdens, they started to roll. this is the ideal recreation for the steeds of ranch or plain, for they get little of the rubbing down or care bestowed on other horses. their daily roll in the grass and dust keeps their coat in good condition. the ponies were pegged out by means of the lariats, which allowed them to graze or roll as they pleased. they were tied near a water hole, formed below the spring, so the animals had the three most desirable requisites--food, water and a place to disport themselves. nort and dick proceeded to make their camp. it was a simple operation. all they had to do was to gather some greasewood for the fire, and start to cook. later they would roll in their tarpaulins, with their heads on the saddles, and get what rest they could. fortunately the two boys had with them some cooking utensils, and also some bacon and flour with a supply of coffee. the flour was of the "prepared" variety. mixing it with water gave them batter for flapjacks, which were baked in the same skillet in which the bacon had first been fried. water for the coffee was at hand, and they had sugar for that beverage, though no milk, which might seem strange so near a ranch on which were many cattle. but ranches are for the raising of beef, and are not dairies, so milkless coffee was no hardship to the boys, though at diamond x milk was plentiful enough. the smell of the burning greasewood, the aroma of the bacon and coffee, not to mention that of the flapjacks, added zest to the appetites of the boys, if zest were needed, and soon they were eagerly eating. then, as night settled down they gathered a quantity of wood for the fire, looked to the fastenings of their ponies and stretched out under the light of the bright stars. they were--except for their ponies--alone amid the foothills, how far from diamond x ranch they could only guess. chapter xviii queer operations "feel sleepy?" asked nort of dick when they had stretched out under their canvas blankets, which might keep off the dew, but which were not very comfortable. "not specially," answered dick. "i'm thinking too much of all that's happened lately." "so 'm i. but i'm not worried because we're here; are you?" "not a bit of it! this is only fun! we wanted to see real western life and we're seeing it," dick went on. "this is what we came out here for. it isn't like anything else we ever did, and it only makes me all the more want to be a rancher." "you said it. only there are one or two things i'd like to know more about." "such as what, for instance?" asked the younger lad. "well, i'd like to know who it was that tried to snake you away with a lasso. i'd like to do the same to him. and i'd like to know more about those two strange professors, and what they're after." "i'm with you there," spoke dick, as he raised on one elbow to look toward where he had tethered his horse, the animal seeming to be suddenly excited about something. "only a coyote," remarked nort, as he caught sight of a slinking figure under the light of the stars. the boys had become used to these creatures which acted as scavengers of the plains. "i wonder if, after all, those professors can be hunting gold?" mused dick, when his horse had quieted down and resumed grazing. "according to what bud says there isn't any gold here and never has been," declared nort. "but there is a mystery about them and i'd give a lot to solve it. you see we tenderfeet don't count for much out on a ranch--that is, yet. we don't know much about roping or shooting or riding herd. of course we're learning, and bud and the others are as nice about it as they can be, but i can see they don't think overly much about our abilities; and i don't blame them. "but if we could solve this mystery about those professors, and maybe connect 'em up with some of the cattle rustling, why it would show bud we easterners amounted to something after all. i sure would like to get on the track of this mystery!" the time was to come, and soon, when nort and dick vividly recalled these words. "well, we're here--not that we know where it is--but we're here, and not in such bad shape," spoke dick. "we're lost, but i reckon bud will find us in the morning, or we'll come across the cattle we're looking for, or else diamond x ranch. "i hope so," mused nort. "i'd like to show these cowboys that we can pull off a trick or two ourselves." "well, i'm with you," and dick's voice took on a drowsy note. in spite of the fact that he had said he was thinking of many things, the riding of the day soon began to tell on both lads. "what's that?" suddenly called dick to nort, when they had, perhaps, been sleeping two or three hours. a wild, weird cry had echoed out in the silent night. "coyote," was the answer, sleepily given. "howlin' in a new way," murmured dick. indeed, accustomed as the boys were becoming to the voices of these animals, part fox, part dog and part wolf, there were always new elements seeming to enter into their cries. again the strange call was repeated, to be answered by the mate of the coyote farther off, and then came a perfect chorus of wild yells. the horses snorted, as if in contempt and the boys covered themselves with their tarpaulins and tried to slumber. but it was some little time before the echoes died away and quiet reigned. nort and dick did not awaken again that night, but their eyes opened when the sun shone on them, and, rather lame and stiff, they arose to get a frugal breakfast. their first look was to their horses, for to be without a mount in the vast distances of the west is almost a tragedy. but blaze and blackie, the two favorite steeds of nort and dick, were safely tethered. cowboys, on range or ranch, usually have a "string" of ponies, or broncos. this is needful, as there is such hard riding necessary at times (particularly at the round-up) that one horse could not stand the pace. so at the beginning of work several horses are assigned to each cow-puncher. of course he may own a horse of his own, and usually does, in fact, and this horse is his favorite. but he has several others to pick from. when nort and dick declared that they were going to be regular ranchers, or cowboys as a start, they were given a string of horses to pick from. but of these blaze, so called from a white streak down his head, was the favorite of nort. blackie was dick's choice, and the selection of the name was due to the color of the horse, it being almost perfect black. blaze and blackie were safe at the ends of their tether ropes--the lariats the boys carried coiled on their saddle horns during the day. breakfast over--and it was not a very substantial meal--the boys saddled their steeds and then looked at one another. "what are we going to do?" asked dick. "hit the trail--for somewhere," answered nort. "the trouble is there doesn't seem to be any trail to hit," spoke dick, rather grimly. "it would be easy, if there was only a cow path, to ride along it until we came to some place. but here, as soon as we ride out of one swale we're in another, and we don't get a sight of bud or the cattle we set out to haze back." "i wonder what he thinks of us?" mused nort. "oh, he must have sized up the situation, and so knows what has happened to us," declared dick. "he's probably out now, with some of the cowboys, looking for us." "i hope they bring something to eat," spoke nort. "we'll be on mighty short rations at noon, unless we can eat grass, the way the ponies do." "or knock over a jack," added dick. "they seem to be plentiful." as he spoke, one of the long-legged and longer-eared rabbits shot past, having paused to look at the strangers, who, doubtless in his mind, were usurping his land. "tell you what we ought to do," suggested nort as they mounted, having made fast their packs and trampled out the fire. "what?" asked dick. "we ought to ride to the top of the highest hill, and take a look. that ought to show something besides a mirage. i s'pose, if we had our wits about us, we'd know whether we ought to ride north, south, east or west," nort went on. "but, as it is, i don't know which way diamond x lies." they urged blaze and blackie up the slope of what they judged to be the highest hill in their vicinity. and as they gained the summit, and looked down into a valley on the other side, they saw something that caused them to both exclaim in surprise. "look!" cried nort. "there's some of our bunch!" he pointed to men and horses in a camp, of which white tents formed a part. "that isn't our crowd!" exclaimed dick. "that's the outfit of the two professors, and they're up to some mighty queer doings!" "digging for gold!" declared nort. but, as he spoke, there was a loud report down near the valley camp. men were seen running, as if from danger, and as the boys looked they saw a cloud of smoke roll up, and part of a side hill slide down. chapter xix prisoners "would you look at that!" shouted nort, pointing down into the valley. "they must be under bombardment! it's a battle, dick!" "nonsense!" cried the younger lad, not as impulsive as his brother. "they're blasting; that's what they're doing! trying to locate a pocket of gold, i reckon. but now we're all right, nort. they'll tell us how to get back to diamond x, even if they can't put us on the trail of the cattle we so stupidly missed." "well, maybe they can, and then again, maybe they can't," said nort slowly. "what do you mean?" asked dick. "well, they may be able to tell us the way to diamond x, but maybe they won't want to tell us where the missing cattle are." "you mean they may have taken 'em _themselves_?" asked dick, and there was surprise in his voice. "it's possible," declared nort. "but we can't find out much by staying up here. let's ride down and see what's going on. i reckon it's as you say--they have been blasting." at first no one paid any attention to the approach of dick and nort. the men who had run away as the blast let loose, now hurried back to peer into the excavation made by the explosion. and among those who thus eagerly sought to see the inner secrets of the earth, our heroes recognized professors blair and wright. these two scientists were foremost among the men standing on the edge of the hole that had been torn in the earth. "no success!" dick and nort heard professor wright say as he turned aside from the hole. "we must try lower down." "higher up, i should say," spoke professor blair. "oh, no. you must remember that the deposits are weighty, and would be brought lower and lower each year by gravity, as well as by the sliding action of the hill under the influence of erosion." "yes, you are correct, professor," admitted mr. blair, and then the two turned and beheld dick and nort at hand. surprise, and no very pleased surprise at that, was manifest on the faces of the two scientists as they viewed the boys. grouped around the professors were several mexicans, or greasers, a chinese, evidently the cook of the "outfit," and a number of workmen, unmistakably american. these last looked at the boys with scowling faces, though the two professors tried to force smiles to their lips. "oh, you are from circle t ranch, are you not?" asked professor blair of dick and nort. "you are the boys who were so kind as to bring the antiseptics for the wounded men, who, thanks to that treatment, are now doing well." "glad to hear it," said nort. "only we're not from circle t. we hail from diamond x." "strange names," murmured professor wright. "i don't see how you remember them, though i do recall, now, that diamond x is the proper term. we--er--i hardly expected to see you again," he said, haltingly. "nor we you," spoke nort, who seemed to be doing the talking for his brother and himself. "we started after some cattle, but they got away from us and we lost ourselves. you haven't seen them; have you? a bunch of steers with the square m brand on." "and if you've seen anything of diamond x ranch itself, up among these hills, i wish you'd tell us how to get to it," added dick, with a whimsical smile. "cattle! of why should we know of your cattle!" exclaimed a harsh voice behind the boys, and dick and nort, turning in their saddles, saw fairly glaring at them del pinzo, the unprepossessing mexican half breed. "do you think we have your steers--that we are _rustlers_?" demanded del pinzo fiercely. "no," said nort, seeing into what error he might be drawn. "i was only asking." "well, we haven't seen any of your cattle!" declared the mexican, or half breed, to give his correct title. "and we don't want you around here when we're----" "just a moment, del pinzo," interposed professor wright, and dick noticed a peculiar look pass between the two scientists. "you must excuse the zeal of one of our helpers," went on mr. wright. "he is doubtless afraid that you might get hurt in a blast." "yes! yes! blasts are dangerous!" said the half breed quickly, and it seemed as if he spoke in answer to a signal given by one of the scientists. "we are going to set off another." "it is just some research work we are undertaking," said professor blair, as he saw nort and dick looking around. "we have absented ourselves from our college to do some investigating, and it is necessary to blast, in some cases, to get at the lower deposits." both dick and nort said to each other, afterwards, that they did not believe these statements. "perhaps you boys had better come down to the tents," suggested professor wright. "as del pinzo says, blasts are dangerous, and the men are going to set off another. come to the tents," and with a wave of his hand he indicated the camp site, a level place amid the little and big hills all about. "thanks," murmured nort. "but are you going to be able to direct us how to find diamond x ranch?" "doubtless some of our men can tell you," said mr. wright. "have you eaten?" he asked. "we had a little," dick replied. "but----" "you can eat more, i have no doubt!" laughed professor blair, but his merriment seemed to be forced. "well, fortunately our larder is well stocked. come down and have something. how are all your friends?" "well, as far as we know, not having seen them since yesterday," answered dick. "you see we're not regular ranchers or cowboys yet, we're just learning." "one need not be told _that_!" sneered del pinzo, who had followed our heroes and the two professors down the slope. professor blair turned and looked sharply at the half breed. then the scientist, speaking, said: "del pinzo, perhaps you had better return and watch that the next blast harms no one. we would not want an accident." the half breed hesitated for a moment, and then murmured: "_si, senor!_" ("yes, sir!") he turned back up the hill, dick and nort continued down it toward the tents. "picket your horses and come in," invited professor wright, as he held open the flap of what was, evidently, the private dining tent of himself and his college companion. "i'll have sing wah fix you up a little feed." "this is mighty kind of you," murmured dick, as he and his brother sat at the folding camp table and ate hungrily. "and now all we want is to be put on the trail to diamond x," said nort, as they finished. "we'll let the cattle go, for the time being." he rose to leave the tent, followed by his brother, but, as the boys neared the flap a man, who, they remembered, had been called silas thorp, interposed his ugly bulk in front of them. "don't be in a hurry to leave, boys," he sneered. "why not?" hotly demanded nort. "because we'd like to keep you here a while," thorp went on. "i guess the professors would like to have you accept their hospitality a little longer." "is this true?" cried nort. "are we prisoners?" "well, that is rather a harsh word to use," said professor wright. "but we feel we must detain you--at least for a while!" chapter xx the diamond x brand nort and dick admitted to one another, afterward, that at first they believed the two professors to be joking. they imagined that the cultured scientists were merely indulging in a bit of fun, from much of which they were necessarily barred while in the class room. but a sharp look at the faces of the men who were at the head of an expedition, conducting a mysterious search, showed the boys that earnestness was the keynote. "you--you're going to keep us here?" questioned dick. "for a while, yes," said professor wright, and there was more snap and decision in his voice than before. "it is much your own fault," added professor blair. "_our_ fault!" spluttered nort, his temper rapidly rising. "why, what have we done except to help you when you needed it? and now all we ask is that you put us in the way of getting back to diamond x." "that is just it," said professor wright. "we don't want you to go back to diamond x at once." "why not?" hotly demanded nort. "what right have you got to hold us here? you can't! we'll get away in spite of you!" and his hand, half unconsciously, perhaps, moved toward his holster. but he was surprised to find his wrist seized in a firm grip, while he was violently swung around, his weapon being removed by some one who had come silently up behind him. and this some one was del pinzo, into whose sneering, crafty, swarthy face nort angrily gazed. before he could say anything, nort saw silas thorp slip up to dick, and take that lad's weapon out of the holster. dick had no time to draw it, even if such had been his intention, which, the lad said later, it was not. "what do you mean? what's this game anyhow? what right have you to keep us prisoners here and take our guns?" shouted nort. he took a step toward del pinzo, but there was something so sinister in the attitude of the half breed, albeit he did not menace the boy with the weapon, that nort shrank back. "i think you had better submit quietly," said professor blair. "we intend absolutely no violence, or ill-treatment of you, unless you make that necessary. we admit that perhaps we are acting illegally, and in an unusual manner, but, in a way, you brought this on yourselves, boys. you will not be detained long. in fact, if our plans work out right, you may depart for your ranch this evening." "acting illegally!" spluttered nort. "i should say you _were_! we'll have you arrested for this, you--you--big----" then nort stopped, for he realized that, though he might apply some well-deserved slang names to the two professors, neither of them was "big." they were small men--at least in stature. "but you haven't any right to hold us here prisoners!" declared dick, feeling that he must back up his brother in a firm protest. "we haven't done anything to you." "except to turn up where you aren't wanted!" broke in silas thorp. "if you'd minded your own business, and stayed away--let us alone--we wouldn't have to do this!" in surprise at such a statement, nort and dick looked at the two professors. mr. wright, with a wave of his hand toward his helper, to enjoin silence, made this statement: "mr. thorp has put the matter rather crudely, perhaps, but that is the state of the case. without going into details, boys, we are in this part of the country on a secret mission. we have almost accomplished what we are after, and, on the verge of the discovery, we do not wish to be balked. you happen to have stumbled upon us just when we are about to complete a wearisome search, which at least promises to be successful. "we have enemies who would be glad to frustrate our schemes, and it is to prevent these enemies from obtaining knowledge of our movements, of our location, and the location of that which we are seeking, that we are forced to detain you. we hope soon to end our mission, and, once we have gained possession of what we are after, we shall be most happy to restore you to liberty." he took breath after this somewhat lengthy address, and nort and dick looked at one another, more puzzled than before. what did it all mean? what was the queer secret of the professors, a secret that, somehow, seemed to involve diamond x? "do you mean that you're keeping us here because you're afraid we'll tell something about you?" burst out nort. "yes," answered professor blair. "we simply must keep our secret safe, now that we are on the verge of discovery." "but we wouldn't tell!" declared nort. "in fact we don't know anything about you--except that we've seen you once or twice. we don't know what your secret is--that is, we can only _guess_ at it." "that's just it!" interrupted professor wright. "you are the sort of lads who would make a correct guess, and then, when word of it got out, we would lose the fruits of many weary years of research." "but we wouldn't tell anyone!" promised dick. "all we know about it is that you're supposed to be prospecting for gold. there isn't any great crime, or secret, in that, unless you're trying to get gold off land that doesn't belong to you." "no, it isn't gold, nor anything like gold," spoke professor wright, in rather dreamy tones. "it is much more valuable than gold. i never would have endured the hardships i have for mere gold." "nor i," said his partner, and then, for the first time the same thought came to nort and dick--that these men might be lunatics, obsessed with a strange idea, and that they were searching for something that might be likened to a fading mirage. the boy ranchers looked at one another. if this was the explanation their position might be more dangerous than appeared. to be held captives by men who were mentally irresponsible, aided by an unscrupulous gang, of which del pinzo was a fair specimen, was not at all a reassuring thought. but nort and dick were not the ones to give up easily. "just what are you going to do?" asked nort, when it was evident that, unarmed as they were, resistance was out of the question for the time being. "simply hold you here for a few days--not more than a week at most," answered professor blair. "suppose we don't stay?" asked nort, sharply. "well, if you refuse to promise not to try to escape, we shall be forced to detain you as best we can," was the calm reply. "but we have no wish to use violence, and i think you will agree to submit quietly. be our guests, so to speak." "what if our friends come to rescue us?" asked dick. "well, we have thought of that," spoke professor wright. "if they come we shall have to do our best to--er--persuade them to go away again--that is unless we can bring our task to an end sooner than we expect, and that is possible. if we can bring that about--make the discovery we hope for--you will be at liberty to depart at that moment. otherwise you must stay here!" "well, we won't promise not to try to escape," declared nort, hotly. "we'll do our best, not only to get away, but to bring the police down on you, or bring whatever authority they have out here. if you're going to act this way we'll be justified in doing our worst!" "naturally," agreed professor wright, smoothly. "now that we have been made aware of your intentions we shall act accordingly. we shall be obliged to keep you under guard, but i assure you that if you do not act roughly neither will our guards. i am sorry you would not agree to our plan, and see matters in our light. it would have been so much more comfortable. and when we have explained, as we hope to do soon, you would appreciate our attitude." "well, all i can say now is that we _don't_ appreciate it!" snapped nort, "and we'll leave at the first opportunity!" "then we'll see that you get no opportunities!" sneered silas. "let's take 'em out, del!" as it was evident that the two professors meant what they said, and that the boys would be roughly handled if they did not submit quietly, they followed their captors out of the dining tent, in answer to signals from silas and the half breed that this was what was wanted. "here's going to be your stopping place," said silas, with another sneer, as he stopped in front of a small tent. "and let me tell you it will be best for you to take it easy. you may get into trouble if you try to leave!" to this nort and dick answered nothing. they were too angry to know what to say, but that they intended to submit quietly to this indignity was not in their natures. they cast quick glances about the camp before entering the tent, the flap of which del pinzo pulled back. the tent contained two cots and some small packing boxes for tables and chairs. "all right!" said nort, as he sized up the situation, and glanced back at the men who were his own and his brother's guards for the time being. "you can do your best to keep us here, and we'll do our best to get away. it'll be a fifty-fifty proposition!" nort was startled by an exclamation from dick. the latter was gazing at some commotion on the far side of the camp. looking out from the opened tent nort saw being driven, along the bank of a small brook that ran through the swale, several big steers. they were being hazed along by greasers on horses, and as the cattle splashed into the water, stopping to drink thirstily, the boy ranchers caught sight of the brands on their flanks. it was the mark of the diamond x ranch! chapter xxi the escape "get inside, you fellows, now!" roughly commanded silas thorp. "if you're going to act nasty we can do the same. you can make it easy or hard for yourselves, just as you choose." "we'll make it hard for you, before we finish!" threatened nort. at the sight of the steers bearing the diamond x brand, del pinzo had stepped out of the tent, but his place as guard, if such he might be called, was taken by another greaser, even less prepossessing in appearance, and apparently of less intelligence, but with as evil intentions. he scowled at the boys, and squatted down at the entrance to the canvas shelter. "here's where you're going to stay, though you can have the freedom of the camp if you promise not to try to leave," said silas. "we won't promise!" declared nort. "not on your life!" added dick, warmly. "then stay here, and there'll be trouble if you try to leave," threatened the man, who seemed to be a dried-up specimen of a museum attendant, which character, so nort said afterward, he forcibly called to mind. he spoke something, evidently in spanish, or the mexican variety of that language, to the fellow who had replaced del pinzo, and the man, who was making himself comfortable at the entrance of the tent, murmured: "_si, senor_!" "which means he'll do as he was told," spoke nort to dick in a low voice as silas passed out. "stick us with his knife or jab the business end of his gun in the small of our backs." "we mustn't give him the chance," spoke dick. "i should say not! we'll get away before he knows it." the brothers spoke together in low tones, but loudly enough for the guard to hear. however he showed no interest in what they said, from which they concluded he either understood no english, or pretended not to. "but we won't take a chance," decided nort. "we won't discuss anything we don't want him to overhear. it's likely they thought they could fool us by putting in a man we would evidently think couldn't understand our talk." "i get you," said dick, briefly. "but what do you think of those cattle?" and he nodded toward where could be heard the noise made by camp attendants driving the diamond x steers whither they were wanted to go. "just what i've been thinking all along," declared nort. "this outfit is a bunch of high-class cattle thieves!" he shot the words out forcibly, and looked keenly at the greaser guard to see if they made any impression on him. however, the mexican was either a perfect actor, or he did not understand what was said, for he gave no sign, and appeared to be in a brown study as he sat hunched up on the ground at the flap of the tent. "wonder what's going on?" mused dick, as the noise increased, the shouts of men mingling with the snorting and bellowing of cattle. "i'm going to take a look." he stepped forward to part the flaps of the tent, they having fallen together, but as he did so the greaser ripped out something fiercely in his own tongue, and his hand went toward a sheathed knife at his belt. "oh, keep your shirt on!" burst out dick. "i'm not going to run away--not just now," he added as a qualifying phrase. whether the man understood the words, or guessed that dick had no intention of escaping, was not made clear, but he offered no further objection to the act of the boys in pulling aside the flaps of the tent and looking out. they saw that the cattle which had been taken from the diamond x ranch--stolen as dick and nort believed--were being driven into a small, and evidently hastily-constructed corral, where they could get to the stream to drink. "they've got a regular system," remarked nort, as he saw the cattle being quieted down, once they were inside the improvised pen. "making a business of it," agreed dick. "but you wouldn't think such men as these two professors would frame it up to be cattle rustlers; would you?" "that isn't all they are," said nort. "that digging and blasting means something!" he pointed to where, on the side hill at the scene of the first explosion, the two scientists were evidently directing operations looking to another blast. professor wright and his aide seemed to pay no attention to the cattle that had been brought in. "this is a queer sort of game," said dick to his brother, as they went back in the tent and sat down on boxes at the heads of their cots. "i can't see to the bottom of it." "nor i, except that these fellows are doing something they don't want known. rustling cattle isn't all of it, by any means, but if the other isn't digging for gold, or something valuable, i give up." "but if they were after gold, why would they deny it?" asked dick. "you've got me!" admitted nort. "it sure is queer. but i wonder if they're going to starve us; and what's become of our ponies?" the last question was answered first, for dick pointed to where, off to one side, blaze and blackie were contentedly grazing, being pegged out, as were a number of other horses. and, an hour or so later, came the answer to the other question, for a man, who evidently acted as camp cook, came to the tent with a pot of coffee, some tin cups, and the head of a barrel used as a tray, on which was piled some food. had the viands been most uninviting, dick and nort would have eagerly welcomed them, for the boys were hungry. but, as a matter of fact, the food was clean, and well cooked. the two professors, whatever might be their game, evidently insisted on adequate culinary operations. "sail in!" exclaimed nort, as he smelled the appetizing odor of the hot coffee, and what appeared to be some mexican dish, cooked with plenty of beans, and more red peppers than the boys cared for. but, as i have said, they were hungry, and this is the best sauce in the world. none of the condiments so freely used by the mexicans was needed, and soon there was silence in the prisoners' tent, broken only by the clatter of knives and forks on the tin camp dishes. once or twice the greaser guard looked at the boys in what dick and nort both agreed, later, was a hungry style. the pot of coffee was much more than the boys needed, though they ate up all the food. and it was while feeling in his pockets for a toothpick that nort's fingers touched something which played a very prominent part in subsequent events. slowly nort drew forth a small bottle, and held it up so dick could see it, but so that it was concealed from the greaser at the tent entrance. and then dick noted that nort held up a four ounce flask of paregoric. nort had been suffering from toothache the past few days, though for some reason it had not bothered him since he and dick had become "lost." perhaps the excitement following that incident quieted the nerves. at any rate nort carried the bottle of paregoric with him, for one of the cowboys had recommended that this household mixture of opium, rubbed on the gums, would give relief. nort found that it did, and since then he had carried the bottle with him, pending the time he expected to visit a dentist. he now held this phial of paregoric up so dick could see, at the same time pointing first to the greaser and then to the coffee pot. "now?" asked dick, in reply to nort's obvious statement that he intended to administer some of the soporific to their guard. "to-night," was nort's answer, and then he put the bottle back in his pocket. dick's eyes lighted up. he knew the effect of a large dose of paregoric, comparatively harmless as it is in small quantities, or as nort used it. now a way seemed opened for the boys. if only they could command the other elements necessary for success. nort made sure of one, by pouring out a cup of coffee, liberally sweetening it with sugar from the barrel head tray, and setting the beverage to one side on the ground under his cot. the camp cook came to carry away what the boys had left--which was not much--and if he missed one cup he said nothing about it. perhaps this was because, just then, some of the cattle tried to break out of the corral, and there was a shout raised for help--to which the cook responded. but the greaser guard did not leave his place. evidently his orders were imperative. "when are you going to try it?" whispered dick to nort, as the shadows began to lengthen, and night settled down on the camp. "not until after dark--say about ten," replied nort in a low voice. "it will take about two hours for him to fall asleep, and then we can get out, get aboard our ponies and trust to luck." "if he only goes to sleep," sighed dick. "i'll give half the bottle full," whispered nort. the greaser paid no attention to their talk, but sat immobile at the tent flaps. during the time the boys had been held prisoners no one had come to their canvas shelter save the cook, who brought them a plentiful supper, and also another barrel-head tray for the guard. the day had passed with several blasts having been set off, though the effect of them, and the object, was concealed from the boy ranchers. in accordance with their plan, nort and dick dawdled over their night meal, having consumed only part of it when the cook, at about eight o'clock, came to remove the dishes. "git 'em mornin'," he said, as he turned to go out, evidently meaning that he was going to turn in, and the boys could keep what they had until the next day. this exactly suited them, and just before they were ready to lie down, pretending to be sleepy, nort produced the cup of coffee he had saved out. quickly he emptied into it half of the bottle of paregoric, and, stirring it to mix the opium concoction well with the beverage, offered it to the greaser. if the latter had suspicions he made no show of them, but, with a grunt accepted the unexpected refreshment, and drained the coffee at one tilt of his head. then he passed the empty cup back to nort, and proceeded to smoke another cigarette, an occupation that had been pretty much his whole task that day. "well, i'm going to turn in," said nort in a loud voice, pretending to yawn. "same here," remarked dick. without undressing, they stretched out on the cots, not being afraid of soiling white sheets with their big boots, for there were no sheets to soil. blankets alone formed the coverings, and these the boys drew over them. there was no lantern in the tent, but the moon sent a stream of light in a little later, and by its gleam, in less than an hour after the dose had been administered, nort and dick saw the greaser's head bent forward, while he had slumped down in a heap at the foot of the front tent pole. nort coughed loudly, two or three times, but the guard did not stir. "dead to the world!" whispered dick gleefully. "we could walk all over him." he arose from the cot slowly, to silence as much as possible the rattle and squeak, and started for the front of the tent. "the back way!" whispered nort. "we'll cut the canvas! if we go out in front some one may see us. the back way!" dick comprehended, and turned around, picking up his range hat, an example followed by nort. the latter had opened his pocket knife, which contained a large, keen blade, and, a moment later, a right-angled cut was made in the back wall of the canvas house. before emerging, nort looked carefully through the opening he had made. the moon gave good light, but, fortunately, the tent was in the shadow of some trees and the way of escape seemed clear. "come on!" whispered nort to his brother. they paused a moment, listening to the heavy breathing of the opium-stupefied greaser and then stepped out of the opening. an instant later they stood beneath the starry canopy of the sky, having accomplished the first part of their escape from the camp of mystery. chapter xxii back to the ranch perhaps, after all, it was due to the peculiar natures of the two professors that nort and dick were enabled to make their escape as easily as the lads did. primarily professor wright and professor blair were scientists, whatever else our heroes accused them of in their own minds. and though the men surrounding the mysterious prospectors might be scoundrels, in a sense, they did not have orders to be extra vigilant after dick and nort had been placed in the tent; so no general guard was kept over the camp. thus it was, that as soon as the lads stepped out of the cut tent, they found no one to oppose their progress. too much dependence had been placed on the greaser guard. who would have supposed that nort carried a bottle of paregoric? or, granting that it was known he had it, would you have imagined that he would use it as he did? the whole affair was so ridiculously simple that perhaps this offered a reason for its success. for it did succeed. stepping softly over the rough ground back of the tent, the boys made their way some little distance from it before they hardly dared breathe freely. then as they were aware of the silence of the night, wrapping everything in its somber robe, slashed here and there with insertions of gleaming moonbeams, their hearts beat higher with hope. they looked toward the other tents where, doubtless, the professors and their helpers were sleeping. then nort and dick caught the snorting of the cattle in the improvised corral--diamond x cattle unlawfully taken. "wish we could let 'em out--stampede 'em," whispered nort. "don't think of it!" cautioned dick to his more impulsive brother. "if we can get our horses away without raising a racket we'll be mighty lucky." the boys had, earlier in the evening, noted where blaze and blackie were tethered, and now they paused long enough to get their bearings, and then made off in the direction of their ponies. they dared not stop to look for their saddles or bridles. if they got away at all they must ride bareback, and with only the loop of a lariat around the necks of their steeds. fortunately blackie and blaze were gentle ponies--not too gentle--but, in comparison with a bucking bronco, they were as carriage horses to a racer. the boys knew they could manage their mounts once they were on their backs. step by step, moving cautiously, hardly daring to breathe, dick and nort made their way to the ponies. "take it easy at first," cautioned nort to dick, as he slid his hand along the lariat, intending to follow it up until he reached the peg, which he could pull out. "which way you going to ride?" asked dick. "north," was the answer, for nort had sensed that point of the compass. "after we get some distance away we can figure out which trail we ought to take." "anything to get away," murmured dick. working quickly and silently, the boy ranchers soon released their ponies from the tethering ropes and managed to mount them, though it was not easy, owing to the lack of stirrups. but eventually they were on the backs of their mounts, and, looping a bight of the rope around the heads of blaze and blackie, made a sort of bridle. luckily the animals were not hard to guide, and a little later dick and nort were urging them along on the grass-covered ground, which provided so soft a cushion for their feet that scarcely a sound resulted. "i think we're going to make it!" whispered dick to nort as they moved along, the horses climbing up out of the swale in which the mysterious camp was located. the moonlight gleamed down on the white tents, including the one from which the boys had cut their way. "don't be too sure--don't crow--we're not out on the open range yet," cautioned nort, this time less inclined to haste than was dick. but their departure did not seem to be noticed. any noise the horses made must have been covered by the lowing, snorting and occasional bellowing of the cattle in the corral. and so it came about that dick and nort, by the exercise of their wits, with which our american youth are so richly endowed, had outwitted their enemies. though why they should have been detained as prisoners they could not fathom. "guess we can take it a little faster now, can't we?" asked dick, as they came to a fairly level, open place. the mysterious camp was now out of sight, though not out of mind. "yes, we can chance it, though without a saddle and bridle we are taking a chance." the boys were never so glad as now that they knew fairly well how to ride, and that their steeds were not like many of the wilder western horses. blaze and blackie seemed to know that their young masters were at a disadvantage, and they trotted along as though under full guidance. "i wonder what it all means--back there?" voiced dick, as he rode along beside his brother. nort did not have to ask what dick referred to--it was the mystery camp. "i don't know," nort answered. "but i'm sure of one thing. as soon as we can get back to diamond x we'll organize a raid on that outfit. it's the headquarters of the rustlers--or one gang of 'em--i'm positive." "looks so," agreed dick. they rode on at good speed now, though they were totally at a loss to know whether or not they were proceeding in the right direction to bring them to diamond x ranch. nort found himself regretting the capture of his gun, when dick, who was a little ahead, suddenly pulled up his horse, as best he could with the improvised reins, and called: "hark!" nort stopped and listened. to the ears of the boy ranchers was borne the unmistakable sound of galloping horses. "if they're coming after us!" said dick sharply, "i'm going to----" "it can't be that bunch," interrupted nort, evidently referring to the professor's camp. "they're behind us. this sound comes from in front." "maybe it's bud looking for us!" exclaimed dick, and before his brother could comment, they both saw riding toward them in the moonlight, up from a little valley, several cowboys. the form of more than one was familiar to dick and nort, but as they saw their cousin in the front rank they cried out: "bud!" "there they are!" yelled bud in answer, and a moment later our heroes were among their friends. "where have you been? what happened? are you hurt?" these were only a few questions fired at the escaped prisoners, and as they managed to tell their story there were ominous growls and comments from the cowboys with bud. "the scoundrels! rustling our cattle!" cried bud. "we'll fix 'em!" "they're doing something else besides rustling your cattle," declared nort. "let's go back to diamond x and organize a crowd to raid this camp! we haven't enough men here, and dick and i haven't any guns," he added. "all right," assented bud, after a moment's thought. "we can do better in daylight, anyhow. back to the ranch it is!" and as the rescue squad turned to go back nort and dick rode with them, their thoughts busy with many topics. chapter xxiii closing in "now let's have the whole yarn," urged bud merkel. the rescue party of cowboys had returned to diamond x ranch, after meeting nort and dick who were riding their saddleless horses on their way of escape from the mysterious camp. thereupon the two brothers told everything that had happened since they rode off together two days before, to haze back the bunch of wild steers. "hum! that's quite a yarn," commented bud's father who, with slim degnan, babe milton and several of the cowboys, had listened to the lads' story. "did they harm you at all?" asked motherly mrs. merkel. "no, they were very polite about it," answered nort. "but of course we weren't going to stay with them on that account." "i should say not!" chuckled bud. "so you put paregoric in the greaser's coffee! that was rich! even zip poster couldn't have done better!" "oh, zip! he'd 'a' drugged the whole camp, and brought 'em away one at a time on his shoulder," said slim, with a wink at the others. "hum! you know a lot--don't you?" murmured bud, but it was easy to see he did not like any fun poked at zip foster, a very mysterious personage, it appeared. "how'd you come to find us?" asked nort, when his own tale, and that of his brother, had been sufficiently told. "well, it was mainly luck, in a way," bud answered. "after you two rode off that time, we didn't pay much attention to you for a while, as we had our hands full with the cattle. then we didn't worry, even when it began to get dark, for we figured that the steers had given you more of a run than usual. we didn't worry, for i told dad that you were getting to be real ranchers." nort and dick smiled proudly at this tribute. "but," resumed bud, "when you fellows didn't come back in the early hours of the morning, we did begin to get a little leery. and then we started off to look for you as soon as it was light. we needn't say we didn't find you. but we kept on hunting, and we were just about to give up again, and ride off in another direction, when we saw you heading for us." "that camp of the professors' is pretty well hidden," spoke nort. "i wonder if we can find it again?" "bet your boots!" cried bud. "i could find it in the dark, but we won't wait until then to close in on the rustlers!" "that's what they are!" cried nort "they're cattle rustlers, and something else! why, they had the nerve to drive some of our diamond x branded cattle right in under our noses, and they never even apologized!" "such fellows don't generally beg your pardon," commented mr. merkel, dryly. "but have you any idea what their game is, boys?" he asked the two brothers. "they're digging, blasting and excavating for something that's hidden in the ground," answered nort. "whether it's gold or diamonds i don't know." "i don't see how it can be either," said bud, with a shake of his head. "nothing like that has ever been found around here." "there's always a first time," said mrs. merkel, with a smile. "and wouldn't it be wonderful if there should be a diamond mine on our ranch? i'd rather it would be diamonds than gold," she went on, "as it doesn't take so many diamonds to amount to a fortune." "well, all i've got to say is that if those rascals rustle off enough of my steers they'll be making a fortune that i ought to have," commented the head of diamond x ranch. "i think it's time we closed in on 'em, boys!" he added sharply. "up to now we didn't have any direct evidence. but if nort and dick saw some of our cattle driven into their camp, and held there, that's proof enough of what they are." "that's what i say!" cried bud. "let's get after the rustlers, del pinzo and the rest! i always did suspect that slick greaser, and now we've got the goods on him. shouldn't wonder but what that double z outfit was mixed up in this, too." "don't go jumping too fast," counseled his father. "zip foster wouldn't like it!" "oh--er--well, you'll see if i'm not right!" said bud, somewhat confused. it was planned, in the light of what nort and bud had seen and heard, to close in and raid the mysterious camp of the professors' the next day. this talk had taken place during the night and early morning hours, following the meeting of the refugees with the rescue party. "maybe we ought to close in on 'em this morning," suggested bud, as the conference broke up, when the first streaks of dawn were coming in the ranch house windows. "no," decided his father. "nort and dick want to get a little sleep, and we want them with us when we close in. then, too, i want to circulate the word around a bit, and have some deputies from the sheriff's office on hand to see that everything is done regular. of course i'd have a right to go in there, right off the reel, and take my cattle. but i'd rather do it regular." so it was planned. nort and dick, indeed, were glad to get some sleep and rest, for they had had a hard time during the last two days. but they were hardy, healthy lads, and their life almost continually in the open since coming to diamond x ranch had made them able to endure hardships they could not, otherwise, have stood. so, after a short rest and sleep, they were as eager as bud and the cowboys to start on a raid. meanwhile mr. merkel had not been idle. he had sent word of what had happened to several adjoining ranches, being careful, however, not to let news of what was afoot trickle through to hank fisher, owner of the double z. as a matter of fact, while there was no evidence to directly connect hank with the mysterious operations at the professors' camp, this man was believed to have been involved in more than one cattle rustling operation. it was hinted that he branded more mavericks than were rightfully his, and on several occasions cattle with "blurred brands" had been found on his ranch. but he always managed to explain matters, though his association with del pinzo, who gave it out that he was officially attached to double z, did not raise the value of hank fisher's reputation. so it was thought best not to include him or his cowboys in the raid. but others from adjoining' ranches assembled at diamond x on the morning selected for the start, and by this time saddles and bridles had been provided for blaze and blackie, and nort and dick sported new guns in their holsters. "now do be careful, won't you?" pleaded mrs. merkel, as the cavalcade started off, with none of the usual whooping and yelling that marked many cowboy affairs. this was thought too serious to be decorated with horse play. "we'll be careful," promised her husband. "but i don't imagine there'll be any serious trouble. we'll surround the place and if those fellows have any sense they'll give up and take what's coming to them." "look out for the boys!" she said in a lower voice, nodding toward her own son, and nort and dick. "i will," promised mr. merkel. "but from what i've seen," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes, "they're middlin' well able to look after themselves. paregoric for that greaser! that's pretty good!" and he chuckled as he rode off with the others. the plans had been carefully made and each cowboy knew what he was to do. the idea was to surround the camp, if possible without arousing the suspicions of the inmates, and then make a sudden rush on it from all sides. this would be comparatively easy to do, since the camp was in the valley, with hills all around it. it was simple enough to follow the trail to the point where nort and dick had been met with as they were escaping. and when this point was reached, it was left to the two young ranchers themselves to say which way to go, since the camp was not in sight, nor were there any known trails leading to it. "well, as near as i can tell this is the way we came," said nort, after studying over the matter a bit, and consulting with dick. "all right," decided mr. merkel. "you lead a party that way, and i'll take dick, and bear off more to the south. it may be you haven't just hit it, and this will give us two shots at it. we'll keep within sight of one another as long as we can, and the first one who sights the right trail, leading in, will build a fire and send up smoke puffs." this much settled, two parties rode off, nort leading one and dick the other. they were closing in on the mysterious camp. chapter xxiv the fight the boy ranchers, meaning this time nort and dick, as distinguished from bud, felt that they were on their mettle--that they were being put to a severe test. they had ridden out from the mysterious camp of the professors, and now they were to ride back to it, leading the raiding party. true, they had come out at night, and under the stress of excitement, so that it was not easy to determine the trail back. but as the boys rode alone, each at the head of a cavalcade that was beginning to diverge, they felt the full measure of responsibility. one of them must make good--must pick up the obscure trail leading to the rendezvous of the cattle rustlers. it was dick who proved the lucky one this time. the party led by nort was out of sight among the many hills and swales, when dick, riding past a water hole, stopped suddenly. "the trail goes in that way," he said. "i'm sure of it. blackie stopped here when we were riding out, to get a drink." "are you sure he stopped here?" asked babe, who was with dick's party. "positive! he stopped in such a hurry that i slid off and fell, and this excited him so i had quite a job holding him." in an instant one of the cowboys was out of his saddle and looking carefully at the ground. "the kid's right!" he exclaimed. "there's been some sort of a fracas here." in that country, where rains were infrequent, and travel light, marks remained for a long time on the dry ground. "i'm sure it was here," declared dick, "and we came out that way." he pointed toward some distant hills. "well, we'll take a chance on it," said babe. "light a fire, fellows." in a few minutes a column of smoke was ascending, and two of the cowboys, holding a blanket over it, moved the cloth to one side at intervals, so that puffs of the dark vapor arose and floated upward. "that'll call 'em," observed babe, who sat on his horse directing operations, at the same time scanning the horizon for answering signals from nort's party. "won't the rustlers see these and skip out?" asked dick, as the smoke puffs went up thick and fast. "don't believe so," spoke babe. "if they do see 'em they'll only think they're camp fires, or round-up blazes." "we'll do the rounding-up," grimly commented snake purdee. "but of course these fellows may be on the lookout. can't hardly expect much else after they come to know that their prisoners have skipped, and the greaser has gone back to his baby days, eating paregoric! oh, my spurs! that was slick!" "there they are!" suddenly cried dick, as he descried other smoke signals going up, about three miles away. and in a short time there rode up to the waiting ones the members of the other party. "dick says this is the trail in," remarked babe, detailing our hero's reasons for his statement. "yes, he's right," assented nort. "we did come this way." "all right then! go to it, boys!" commanded mr. merkel, and the party rode off. as they advanced, the configuration of the ground became more and more familiar to the two boys. they passed places which they had ridden over in approaching the half-hidden valley, before they fairly stumbled on it and were captured. "i reckon we're getting warm," decided mr. merkel, after several hours of cautious riding. "some of you fellows better take it on foot for half a mile or so, and see what you can locate. we'll wait for you here." two cowboys, leaving their horses rather reluctantly, formed an advance scouting party, and the others waited down in a little swale. in less than half an hour the two scouts had returned, and their manner showed suppressed excitement. "we located 'em," said one. "they're in the next valley.' "what are they doing?" asked bud. "we didn't stop to see that," was the answer. "as soon as we saw the white tents we came back." "all right," said mr. merkel grimly, "now we've got 'em! spread out, boys, and don't do any shooting unless it's absolutely necessary. we just want to capture the rascals. but be sure your guns are in working order." most of the cowboys knew this without looking, but bud, nort and dick made a careful inspection of their weapons. proceeding cautiously, the cavalcade approached. some had been sent on in advance, to circle about and approach the valley from the far side, thus enabling it to be surrounded. two shots, fired at a brief interval, was to be a signal from the advance party, led by slim, that they were in place, and ready to attack. "there! one shot!" suddenly cried bud, as a sharp report cut the air. it was followed, almost immediately, by another. "come on, boys!" cried mr. merkel, and there was a general leaping to saddles. bud and his cousins were not a bit behind the cowboys and a little later, amid shouts, the two parties rode at a fast clip down the slopes toward the mysterious camp. "look! there are your cattle!" cried nort to mr. merkel, as several steers were seen, standing in a bunch near some queer piece of apparatus that looked like a derrick. "that's right!" shouted the cattleman, for he had caught sight of the animals bearing the diamond x brand. "but what in the name of sour dough biscuits are they doing?" he asked. "if these are rustlers they're the queerest ones i ever saw!" "well, they're rustlers all right!" yelled several of the cowboys. "come on, fellows! let's get at 'em!" "right you are, buddy!" rang out savage, exultant yells on all sides. the cowboys wished for nothing better than to come to hand grips with lawless men who stole the fruit of others' labor. "treat 'em rough!" "sit tight and ride hard!" called bud to nort and dick. "there's going to be some hot work!" and he spoke to his pony, which leaped forward as if he, too, wanted to get into the fight. "will we need our guns?" asked dick. "better have 'em handy!" advised nort, as his hand went to the leather holster at his hip. "look at 'em!" shouted bud. "they're going to fight us all right!" indeed, it did appear that the party in the camp established by the professors, taken by surprise as they were, meant to resist to the utmost. men could be seen running back to the tents, whence some reappeared with guns or big . s. others, including the two professors themselves, remained at the scene where some of the diamond x cattle were attached by ropes to the apparatus that looked like the derrick. "are they trying to brand your cattle over again, bud?" asked dick as he and his cousin rode alongside of the young rancher. "i don't know," was the answer. "if they are, they're going about it in a new way. i wonder what they are up to, anyhow?" well might he ask that, for as the raiding party made its rush into the valley several men near the professors, were urging forward the steers that were harnessed, or yoked together in some manner, to cause them to act as a lifting force. by means of ropes rigged over the derrick-like structure, something heavy was being hoisted from a great hole in the ground. the steers, unused to this work, for which gentle oxen might have been admirably fitted, were acting wildly, and the greasers, and other campers, were having their hands full. this with the shouts of the attacking party, the thud of the feet of many galloping horses and the firing of shots into the air by the wildly enthusiastic cowboys from diamond x, made the place one of great confusion. "rout 'em out, boys!" "haze 'em into the brook!" "cut out our cattle!" "rope 'em an' hog-tie 'em!" these were only a few of the many directions that were yelled at the tops of voices as the boy ranchers and their friends swept onward down the valley, converging on the band of men they believed to be cattle rustlers, if not something worse. "hands up, there!" "drop those guns!" these commands came sternly from mr. merkel, babe and slim, while dick and nort, riding beside bud, felt a wild thrill as they realized that they were to have a part in this strenuous fight. to possible danger they gave not a thought. but if the attacking party thought everything was to be easy, it was not long before this idea vanished. after the first surprise, the greasers, and other rough characters in the camp of the professors, regained their nerve, and prepared to fight. there were shouts in hissing spanish, and del pinzo was observed to be rallying his followers. bud and his cousins had a glimpse of this wily mexican leaping on his horse, and, surrounded by a number of evil-looking men, riding straight for the invaders. "they're coming!" cried nort. "i see 'em!" muttered dick. "keep together!" advised bud in a wild cry. "stay with me, and we'll ride right through 'em!" several weapons popped, and two or three saddles were emptied, one on the side of the diamond x forces. nort and dick heard bullets whistling in the air over their heads, and though they may have ducked, instinctively, they did not after the first two or three of these nerve-racking experiences. "come on! come on!" yelled bud to his cousins, as they saw del pinzo and his gang of greasers spurring toward them. nort and dick touched their horses lightly, and the spirited ponies sprang forward. dick had a glimpse of the two professors, and one or two other men, standing by the derrick structure as though dazed at the sudden turn in affairs. some of the helpers were endeavoring to quiet the harnessed cattle. "ride 'em down, boys! ride 'em down!" yelled mr. merkel. "you said it!" shouted slim degnan, and babe added his voice to the din, the while starting one of the verses of his cowboys' song. "crack!" that was a gun going off close to the ear of dick. he leaned over slightly in his saddle, fearing he had been hit. but in another instant he realized that bud had fired, with a pistol held so close to the eastern lad's ear as nearly to deafen him. "well, i got him, anyhow!" yelled bud, and dick saw a man who had been riding at del pinzo's side drop his gun and clasp his right hand in his left. "that's what i wanted to do--disarm him. no need to shoot to kill!" bud went on. dick saw a mexican riding straight at him, and the boy endeavored to bring his weapon to bear as bud had done. but just as the boy rancher was going to pull the trigger something else happened. he felt himself flying over the head of his pony, and the next moment came heavily to the ground, while blackness closed his eyes. dick was out of the fight. the battle between the cowboys and the greasers now waged hotly. guns cracked on both sides and more than one saddle was emptied. this before the two forces actually came together. and come together they did, with the thud of horses and men meeting, as when two rival football elevens clash on the gridiron. only this was more desperate. nort had a glimpse of dick being unhorsed and left behind in a silent, huddled heap on the ground. a wave of sorrow, and then a wild feeling of revenge, swept through nort's heart. he sent his pony ahead with a rush, endeavoring to wheel him to attack the man at whom dick had been riding when unseated. "look out!" bud yelled. nort turned in time to see del pinzo himself bearing down on him astride of a powerful black horse. the greaser was yelling and waving his gun, from the muzzle of which smoke floated. "i'll get him!" yelled nort, savagely. he swerved his own weapon, bringing it to bear on the evilly smiling mexican, and nort's own face lit up in a grim smile, for he thought to revenge dick. but the next instant he felt a burning, stinging pain across his forehead and a second later his eyes saw nothing, while he was conscious that they were filled with blood that streamed from his wound. "i'm shot!" was the thought that flashed through nort's mind. he endeavored to pull up his pony, conscious that he was losing control over the animal. he wanted his eyes to see where he was heading. by a great effort of will nort caught up his gun in his bridle hand, and with his right wiped away as much of the blood as he could from his eyes. a great emotion of thankfulness passed over him as he found that he could still see, though dimly. he caught sight of del pinzo still spurring toward him, but the next moment a curious change took place. "let me have him!" nort heard bud yell, seemingly from a great distance, though, in reality from a position directly behind him. then as his vision dimmed again, nort caught a fleeting sight of a lasso whirling and writhing through the air toward the greaser. del pinzo tried in vain to dodge it, but his horse was traveling too fast. then, as darkness again closed down on poor nort he had a vision of the greaser, covered with blood, shouting and wildly jerking his arms and legs, being pulled from the saddle to the ground, his gun going off harmlessly as he was yanked along. "bud got him!" was the thought that flashed through nort's mind, and then all became black, and he felt some one helping him down out of his saddle. "where's dick? i'm not much hurt!" nort heard himself murmuring, though, to tell the truth, he did not know for certain whether he was mortally wounded or not. "look after dick! are they beating us?" he asked, though he could not see to whom he was talking. "dick's all right," answered a voice that nort recognized as that of babe. "it's you we're worried about." "nothing much the matter with me," spoke nort, as his hand again went to his head. then he found that a bullet had creased its way across his forehead, cutting a long gash, but making a wound that was only superficial, though it bled profusely. "are we getting licked?" demanded nort anxiously, as more shots resounded in the valley, and he could hear the yells of cowboys, the clashing of bodies one against the other and the lowing of the cattle. "no, we've got 'em on the run!" exulted babe. "come on, till i lead you to water, and you can wash off that blood. you look bad that way, even if you aren't hurt much!" "are you sure dick's all right?" nort asked. "sure! his horse stumbled and threw him. he's limping over this way now." "good!" murmured nort, and his heart felt better. but the fighting was not over yet. driven partly from the valley at the first rush of the boy ranchers and their friends from diamond x, the greasers and mexican cowboys returned with a rush. this took place when nort was trying to rid himself of some of the blood that had flowed freely from the gash on his head. "there goes yellin' kid!" cried babe, as he darted away from nort's side. "killed?" asked the boy, who could not see just then, as some water got in his eyes. "killed? shucks, no!" yelled babe exultantly. "he rode into one greaser and knocked him seven ways from sunday, and roped another, yankin' him out of the saddle! oh, boy!" and with a yell babe ran to join in the fray. nort cleared his face of blood and water long enough to see snake purdee keel over out of his saddle as a bullet struck him, though it afterward developed that the cowboy was not badly hurt. slim was slightly wounded, and mr. merkel had a narrow escape. but though the diamond x bunch took hard knocks they gave harder ones. nor did the professors escape scathless, for mr. wright was grazed by a spent bullet, and his helper was horned by one of the wild steers. "there they go! we've made 'em run for cover!" shrilly cried yellin' kid as he spurred after the last of the lawless men. "yip! yippy! there they go!" and go the rascals did--that is, those who were not wounded or captured. chapter xxv the triceratops diamond x cowboys were in complete possession of the mysterious camp of the two professors. the fight had been won by the merkel forces, and at no very great sacrifices on their part. one or two of the cowboys had been wounded, but not seriously, though two horses had been killed, and also one steer. on the other hand, the enemy, as represented by the greasers and some cowboys who were in the pay of the two professors, were in need of hospital treatment in several cases; one serious. but they had brought the trouble on themselves by their lawless acts. babe helped nort tie a bandage around the bullet-cut on his forehead, and then, with his eyes cleared of the blood, nort was able to see that victory had come to diamond x. bud's quick act, in lassoing del pinzo, just as the latter was about to ride down nort, had been one of the turning points in the fight. when the greasers saw their leader pulled from his saddle they turned and would have fled, but for the cowboys who surrounded them, compelling them to surrender with the grim words: "hands up!" nort saw del pinzo, and several of the others, being roped and tied on ponies, and then his attention was attracted to dick, who came limping up with a rueful face. "hurt?" asked nort of his brother. "no, but wasn't it rotten that my horse had to stumble just as i was going to pot one of 'em?" "yes, but _you_ might have been potted instead! we're well out of it, i think." "they got you, though!" said dick, a bit anxiously. "only a scratch," nort answered, though his whole face was beginning to feel stiff from the effects of the bullet wound. "well, we seem to have made a clean sweep," remarked mr. merkel as he rode up, with bud and some of the cowboys, to where nort and dick stood. "you boys all right?" he asked quickly. "sure!" exclaimed nort. "but have you found out what it's all about?" "we're going to," said bud's father, grimly. "the two professors, as they call themselves, didn't take any part in the fight. they're over near that hole in the ground, with some of my steers yoked up to that derrick. i'm going to find out what it means. keep those fellows well tied, boys!" he commanded his cowboys who had charge of del pinzo and his followers. "don't worry," drawled babe, as he rolled a cigarette. "we've hog-tied 'em!" indeed, it did seem impossible for del pinzo or any of the greasers to get loose, but their bonds were looked to again, while some of the cowboys busied themselves with the wounded. then mr. merkel, followed by his foreman and the boy ranchers, approached the little knoll on which stood the two professors and the uneasy cattle. the animals had been prevented from stampeding during the fight because of the ropes that bound them to the derrick. riding up to the scientists, who seemed dazed by what had taken place, mr. merkel sternly demanded: "what does this mean?" he pointed to the harnessed cattle--his own diamond x steers, which were now more quiet. "i might ask you the same," retorted professor wright, and there was considerable excitement in his voice and manner. "by what authority do you ride into our camp, attacking our men, and interfering with our work which we have permission from the united states government to carry out?" "i don't know anything about _that_," said mr. merkel, "but i do know that you have some of my cattle, and even the permission of the government doesn't cover the rustling of animals from the diamond x ranch." "_cattle rustling?_" murmured professor blair. "your cattle?" added professor wright, falteringly. "yes!" was the snapped-out answer. "those are my steers you have hitched to that derrick. "oh--those!" exclaimed professor blair, with an air of relief. "we merely borrowed them. they will be returned to you soon." "but what are you after, anyhow?" burst out bud, unable longer to restrain his curiosity. "what are you pulling out of that hole?" the two professors turned toward it as the boy rancher pointed, and nort and dick, forgetting the pain of their wounds and bruises, followed their gaze to the excavation. "we are pulling out ten million years," answered professor wright, slowly, in rather solemn tones. "ten million years! we are pulling out a creature that walked the earth ten million years ago!" there was a gasp from the listening cowboys, and babe murmured: "his brain sure is cracked!" "ten million years!" murmured mr. merkel. "but what has that to do with rustling diamond x cattle?" before anyone could answer, there was some movement at the far end of the valley camp, and into it came rushing several more steers bearing the merkel brand. they were being driven by several mexican greasers, who seemed very much surprised at the scene that met their gaze. in vain did del pinzo attempt to signal them to retreat. it was too late. on they came, and with yells the diamond x cowboys rushed for these latest arrivals. "more rustling!" cried bud. "we've caught 'em right at their game!" "go get 'em, boys!" commanded his father. and in a few minutes, after the exchange of a few shots, the other mexicans were captured, with the exception of one or two at the rear of the bunch of steers. they managed to ride off in the confusion. "oh, boy!" murmured bud, as he threw his hat up in the air. "this is great! even zip foster couldn't beat this!" "he'll not get the chance, i guess!" murmured nort, laughing. "looks like we'd corraled the whole bunch," said slim. "now let's take a look at this ten million year old creature the professors seem to have bagged." the prisoners were now secured and the boy ranchers, with bud's father and his cowboys, drew near the great hole in the ground--the hole over which leaned an improvised derrick. from this derrick ran a long rope, rigged over pulleys, and it was to the pulling end of this cable that the diamond x steers were hitched. the lifting end of the rope extended down into the excavation. "just what sort of game is going on here?" demanded mr. merkel, and but knew when his father spoke in this tone that there was likely to be trouble for some one. "what does it all mean?" "the explanation is a long one," began professor wright, "but----" "it doesn't take very long to size up that you've been rustling our cattle!" said slim, sharply. "rustling!" murmured the professor. "rustling? oh, i see, a western term for borrowing." "_borrowing_! oh, zip foster!" murmured bud, but his father motioned for him to remain quiet. but professor wright had caught bud's remark, and it seemed to give a new light to the scientist. he stepped forward, having seen to it that the rope, by which something, "ten million years old," was being hoisted from the earth, was made fast. the steers, which had been straining to lift the weight, were now comparatively quiet, and the second bunch, driven in by del pinzo's men, were cropping grass near the stream. "there seems to have been some mistake," said professor wright. "we intended to pay you for the use of your cattle, mr. merkel, as i understand your name to be. and, now that we have almost accomplished our search, we shall have no further need of your beasts. i don't know why my helper sent after more, for those we have are amply able to lift out the fossils. we shall be through with your animals in a few hours, and will then pay anything in reason for their borrowed use." a light seemed also to break over bud's father, and the boy ranchers looked at one another with a new understanding. "do you mean to say," began the owner of the diamond x ranch, "that you only wanted to use my cattle as you might use oxen--as draft animals?" "of course," said professor blair. "that is all we wanted them for. did you think we intended to _keep_ them?" "well--er--you'll excuse me saying so, but we certainly _did_!" declared bud's father. "rustling, we call it here, and it means driving off another man's branded stock. it isn't all clear to me yet. what are you after, anyhow? what's down in that hole, and what is it that is ten million years old?" "a triceratops," answered professor wright. "we have been on the track of one for a long time, and now we have found it. almost the only complete remains of the most perfect triceratops it has ever been the fortune of anyone to discover! if you will only have a little patience, and grant us the use of your steers a short time longer, until we hoist from its ancient bed the remains, you may soon look upon one of nature's wonders--a triceratops!" "triceratops!" murmured babe milton. "is that one of them slidin' _horns_ you blow your lungs out on?" "you're thinkin' of a trombone," said snake purdee, laughing. "or a saxophone," said bud. "no," said dick, "i remember now. a triceratops is one of the ancient dinosaurs, or lizard animals, that roamed the earth millions of years ago. we studied a little about them in the academy." "you are right, young man, a triceratops is one of the most wonderful of dinosaurs," said professor wright. "for many years i have been seeking a perfect specimen, and now i have found it. in a little while you may gaze upon its skeleton remains, or at least most of them. have i your permission to continue the use of your cattle as a hoisting medium?" he asked mr. merkel. "shucks! yes!" exclaimed the ranchman. "i don't know what you're driving at, except that it's something scientific, but you're more than welcome, and i'm sorry there was all this fuss over it. if we had only known what you were after we could have helped." "i did not dare let the object of my expedition become known, until i was sure of success," said professor wright. "a rival college has sent some of its scientists into this same field, and only by strategy have we been able to elude them and reach our wonderful success." "oh, so that's what all the secret was about!" exclaimed the ranchman. "well, was he in the secret, too?" he asked, pointing to the bound and scowling del pinzo. "he knew we were after something of this sort; yes," answered the scientist, "but he has no comprehension, of course, of what a triceratops is. i believe he told his mexican and indian helpers, who assisted us from time to time, that we were after _gold_." "oh, so that's how that rumor got abroad," murmured mr. merkel. "did you send del pinzo's men off to get more of our cattle just now?" asked slim, pointing to the second batch of diamond x steers. "no, and we never sent him, or them, to any special place to get animals to use on our pulley ropes," said professor wright. "we left that to him, merely stipulating that he was to hire animals, and we would pay for their use." "then i see his game!" cried the foreman of the ranch. "he took this chance to rustle some cattle on his own account, thinking you wouldn't know the difference, and that you'd be blamed for it. you slick greaser!" he cried, shaking his fist at del pinzo. "this makes it all clear, now!" "we certainly never intended to do more than hire a few of your powerful steers, to use as oxen," said professor wright. "but i can see, now, that we should have made this clear from the first, and not have left it to one who, evidently, does not bear a good reputation with you." "you got off an earfull that time," commented babe milton, dryly. "but why were my two nephews held as prisoners in your camp?" asked mr. merkel. "there doesn't seem to have been any excuse for that." "only our zeal to avoid discovery, and to keep our plans secret from a rival college expedition," said professor wright. "for this i must apologize to the boys. they stumbled in on our camp just when we had located the bones of the triceratops, and we feared they had come from our rivals. i offered them all the freedom possible, if they would give me their parole, but they saw fit not to, and i thought the end justified the means. "i see, now, that i made a mistake in trying to keep the boys prisoners, though it would have been only for a short time. but they got away." "they sure did--with _paregoric_!" chuckled bud. "well, no great harm was done," said professor wright. "and now that explanations have been made, and the guilty caught," and he looked at del pinzo, "we will proceed to lift out the triceratops." "ten million years old!" murmured slim. "whew!" "and perhaps older," said professor blair. "get ready, men!" he called to those in charge of the harnessed steers. then began a strange scene. the powerful animals from diamond x ranch, acting for the time being as beasts of burden, leaned forward in the improvised yokes. there was the creaking of pulleys, the straining of ropes and the squeak of wood under pressure. then from the great hole that had been dug, and blasted, in the earth, there arose a mass of bones, imbedded in rock--part of the skeleton of an ancient and prehistoric triceratops. this fragment of an animal--one of the dinosaurs that roamed the western part of america from ten to twenty-five million years ago--before the rocky mountains were even formed--this fragment gave little idea of the weird beast itself. i have not time, or space, to tell you more about it than can be sketched in a few words. but those of you who have seen the restoration of these monsters, in museums, will bear me out when i say that they must have been among the wonders of the ancient world. the triceratops resembled a rhinoceros as much as anything else, but was much larger. he had comparatively short legs, a short heavy tail and, doubtless, a very thick skin. his skull was his most remarkable feature. on top were three horns, the one directly over the end of his snout being short, the middle one long and the rear slightly shorter. back of the last horn extended a huge, bony plate, not unlike the back shield on the helmet of a fireman, and over each eye was another protective plate of bone, doubtless intended, as was the rear one, to guard vital organs. the triceratops was the largest animal of his kind, more than twenty-five feet long, and while he may not have matched the brontosaurus, or thunder lizard, which was from forty to sixty feet long, from ten to fourteen feet high, with thigh bones measuring six feet in length (the largest single bones known to science)--while, i say, the triceratops may not have been a match for the thunder lizard, he was a dinosaur to be reckoned with. and as the remains of this prehistoric monster, that had lived, walked, eaten and fought on earth from ten to twenty-five million years ago, rose out of the pit, even the workaday cowboys could not repress a cheer. "that's the idea, boys!" cried professor wright, who was quite a different person, now that his work was crowned with success. "i feel like cheering also! this is the culmination of my life's ambition, and that of my helper, professor blair!" when the wounded had been cared for and the prisoners had been sent to the nearest jail, the remains of the skeleton of the triceratops, part of the bones imbedded in rock, were carefully hoisted out and laid to one side. when i tell you that the skull, alone, of one of these monsters, imbedded in rock, weighed, when boxed for shipment to a museum, over three tons, you may form some idea of the magnitude of this sort of relic collecting, and understand why many powerful steers were needed, with tackle, to raise specimens out of a deep pit. that the boy ranchers were intensely interested in the remaining work of restoring to science the lost triceratops, goes without saying. when it was made plain that the two professors and their men were not cattle rustlers, mr. merkel gave them every assistance in his power, assigning some of his cowboys to help with the labor of excavating the remaining bones, not all of which could be found. for it is rare that a complete skeleton of these monster dinosaurs is recovered. while our western states, in certain places, are rich in fossil remains, there is very seldom a complete skeleton unearthed. at best there are but a few bones, or the impressions of bones, in the sandstone rocks or shale. but from these bones, from the impressions of those that have been eaten by time, and by their knowledge of what sort of anatomy was needed to keep these wonderful creatures on earth, it is possible for scientists to almost completely and perfectly restore them, in some medium like papier-maché. "we shall be the envy of all our colleagues!" declared professor wright, as the work progressed from day to day, the boy ranchers becoming eager helpers. professor wright and professor blair labored with their men, and as hard. there was one exception to this--silas thorp. he of the sour face and hangdog manner, it was discovered, had acted with del pinzo in stealing cattle, intending to sell them for their own profit, after they had "borrowed" the animals from diamond x ranch, letting the two professors think the steers had legitimately been "hired." silas made his escape during the fight, but del pinzo and most of his men were captured. not all of the professors' employees were confederates of the greasers, del pinzo and silas thorp. some were as ignorant as the scientists themselves that anything wrong was going on. these men were soon freed, and helped in the work of excavating the triceratops. there really were some cattle rustlers engaged in operations around diamond z ranch when nort and dick happened to come on their visit. this fact was discovered later when some of the cattlemen organized a posse, and after a fight, in which several on both sides were slain, arrested a notorious gang. it was del pinzo who had tried to rope dick that night, hoping, it was surmised, that in the confusion, he might be able to steal some steers. but the mission of the professor, that same night, was perfectly legitimate. he had heard that some rival scientists were "on his trail," and he rode off alone to see if this might be true. he found nothing, however, but his suspicions were ever on the alert. as a matter of fact he learned, later, that his rivals had never been near him. but he took all precautions, some needless, as it afterward developed. that some of the double z outfit, and perhaps even the owner of that ranch, hank fisher himself, were involved in cattle rustling, was suspected, but not proved--at least for some time. with the discovery that the professors were really scientists, and not cattle rustlers, all suspicion of them vanished. they had come west to hunt for the fossil relics and bones of the triceratops. the reason they headed for diamond x ranch was because, some time previous, another scientist, connected with the same college to which professor wright and professor blair were attached, had been given, by a mexican guide, a bone from that strange monster--the triceratops. by dint of much questioning this professor learned that the bone had been found on land near diamond x ranch. professors blair and wright secured government permission to prospect on unclaimed land, and thus began a search for the complete skeleton, a search that ended so dramatically. the two professors had hired an outfit, and planned to spend the entire summer looking for the remains of the prehistoric monster dinosaur. their actions were misunderstood by some of the mexicans and indians they hired, these ignorant men thinking gold was the object of the search. hence the attack on the camp at the time bud and his friends warded it off. on the occasion when ridin' kid rode his horse against the tent, which seemed to conceal something valuable, there was, inside the canvas shelter, some bones that, later, proved to be part of the very skeleton which bud, nort and dick helped to raise from its ten-million-year-old bed. the professors were afraid there would be a premature discovery of what, to them, were valuable relics, so guarded the tent jealously. but eventually the bones and fossils were hoisted out of the hole, which had to be blasted larger to enable this work to go on, and the scientists departed for the east and their colleges, parting on the best of terms with the diamond x outfit. "saddle up, boys!" called mr. merkel to bud, nort and dick one day, about a month after the fight in the valley camp. "what for--have we got to quiet a stampede?" asked dick, who had recovered from his injuries, as had nort. "no, we've got to ride in to town, to give evidence against del pinzo and his gang," answered bud's father. "their trial comes off to-day. they've been in jail ever since we roped 'em!" "more excitement!" yelled bud as he raced for the corral to saddle his pony, an example followed by nort and dick. the boy ranchers, with some of the older men, rode off over the prairies to the distant seat of the local government, where the trial of the cattle rustlers was to be held. and, as they rode into the small town, a typical western ranch settlement, they became aware of something exciting that was going on. through the main street rode a number of cowboys, with drawn guns in their hands. several of these horsemen knew the diamond x outfit, and when one man clattered past on his horse mr. merkel cried: "what's up?" "jail delivery!" was the answer. "those cattle rustlers broke out just now! we're after 'em! come on!" "not del pinzo and his gang!" cried bud. "you said it!" shouted the man--a deputy sheriff. "a lot of greasers rode in just now, started shootin' up promiscus like, and in the excitement del pinzo and his crowd managed to get out of the calaboose! we got to get a new one, i reckon! but come on! we may land 'em yet!" "oh, zip foster!" yelled bud, as he urged his horse forward. "more exciting fun!" commented nort. "got your gun, dick?" "sure!" was the answer. through the main street of the town rode the boy ranchers, following the trail of the posse of officers and men who were trailing the escaped prisoners. as they turned into a cross thoroughfare the sound of rapid firing came to the ears of bud and his cousins. "watch your step!" counseled mr. merkel. "wait a minute!" but the boys did not wait. on they rushed, only to come into action at the tail end of the fight. some cowboys and members of the sheriff's hastily organized posse were shooting at some greasers who had turned to make a stand. but the mexicans saw that they were outnumbered, and fled off in disorder, firing and being fired at. however, there were no casualties, and when one of the deputies explained that this "bunch" was not del pinzo and the escaping men, but some others, bud and his friends rode back. "they tried to draw us off the trail of that slick greaser," explained one of the deputies. "can't we join the posse?" asked nort of mr. merkel. the ranchman shook his head. "there's enough after 'em without you," he said. "and as long as del pinzo has taken matters into his own hands, and succeeded in postponing his trial, we might as well get back to diamond x." bud, nort and dick rather regretted this, but when they learned, later, that the sheriff and his men rode hard all night after the prisoners, only to lose them among the hills near the mexican border, our heroes decided it was just as well they had not gone. "so del pinzo got away after all, did he?" asked babe, when the boy ranchers rode back to put their ponies in the corral. "that greaser sure is a bad one! he'll make trouble yet!" and del pinzo did. he was of a vindictive nature, and he associated much of his trouble with diamond x ranch. so, naturally, he watched his chance to be revenged on those connected with it, including nort and dick. but for the details of this i must refer you to the succeeding volume of this series. "well, fellows, are you satisfied with what you saw and what you did, for a start?" asked bud of his cousins, two or three days after the escape of del pinzo. "we sure have had some summer!" exclaimed nort. "never one like it!" agreed dick. "it's a shame to have to go back to school!" "well, you wouldn't like it out here in winter as much as you have this summer," spoke bud. "it's pretty fierce, sometimes. but can't you come out next year?" "you said it!" cried nort. "from now on we're going to be ranchers in the summer, and students in the winter. and the summer can't come any too soon for me!" "well, just at present, grub can't come any too soon for me!" laughed bud, as he urged his pony onward. the boys had been out on a last ride, mending a broken fence. for, by this time, nort and bud were almost as expert cowboys as was their western cousin. "i made a pie for you!" called nell, bud's pretty sister, as they rode up to the corral, and turned their horses in. "i hope you'll like it!" "couldn't help it!" said nort, gallantly. "pie! yum! yum! where have i heard that word before?" "it does seem to savor of happy days," remarked dick. "oh, cut out the poetry!" advised bud with a laugh. "let's figure how long it will be before you can come back." for nort and dick did come back to diamond x ranch. their further doings will be told of in the next volume of this series to be called "boy ranchers in camp, or the diamond x fight for water." in that you may learn what bud, dick and nort did, and more about mysterious zip foster and the wily del pinzo. as bud, nort and dick entered the house, escorted by the smiling nell, who was well pleased at the tribute to her pie-making, there was a rattle of hoofs, and a bunch of the cowboys clattered in, having been out riding herd. "grub ready?" cried babe, as he slumped off his weary pony--babe was heavy enough to make almost any pony weary. "come on!" cried mother merkel. "don't tell them about the pie!" whispered nort to nell. "oh, there's enough for all of them--mother and the women baked a lot, but i made one specially for you boys," nell answered. and what the boy ranchers said i leave you to guess. up the lane leading from the corral to the house came the hungry cow punchers, to wash the dust and grime from hands and faces, and then to eat with appetites that even a triceratops might envy. and as they splashed at the washing bench, slim raised his voice in what, doubtless, he intended for song and warbled: "leave me alone with a rope an' tobaccy, then let the rattlers sting! give me a sweet, juicy apple to chaw on, then when i'm sad i will sing." there was a rattle of tin wash-basins, the swish of water as it was heaved at the singer, and then a howl of dismay from slim. "take that soap out o' my mouth!" he bawled, and amid a chorus of laughter he ran around the corner of the porch, to escape the attentions of his jolly friends. "come on to grub!" sang out bud, and no second invitation was needed. and while the boy ranchers are thus insured of at least temporary happiness, we will say, with the spaniards: "_adios!_" the end the boys outing library the saddle boys series by capt. james carson the saddle boys of the rockies the saddle boys in the grand canyon the saddle boys on the plains the saddle boys at circle ranch the saddle boys on mexican trails the dave dashaway series by roy rockwood dave dashaway the young aviator dave dashaway and his hydroplane dave dashaway and his giant airship dave dashaway around the world dave dashaway: air champion the speedwell boys series by roy rockwood the speedwell boys on motorcycles the speedwell boys and their racing auto the speedwell boys and their power launch the speedwell boys in a submarine the speedwell boys and their ice racer the tom fairfield series by allen chapman tom fairfield's school days tom fairfield at sea tom fairfield in camp tom fairfield's pluck and luck tom fairfield's hunting trip the fred fenton athletic series by allen chapman fred fenton the pitcher fred fenton in the line fred fenton on the crew fred fenton on the track fred fenton: marathon runner cupples & leon company, publishers, new york [illustration: cover art] [frontispiece: "look out!" quickly yelled nort. "jump for your lives! it's a flood!" "the boy ranchers in camp."] the boy ranchers in camp or _the water fight at diamond x_ by willard f. baker author of "the boy ranchers," "the boy ranchers on the trail," etc. _illustrated_ new york cupples & leon company the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker mo. cloth. frontispiece the boy ranchers or solving the mystery at diamond x the boy ranchers in camp or the water fight at diamond x the boy ranchers on the trail or the diamond x after cattle rustlers cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by cupples & leon company the boy ranchers in camp printed in u. s. a. contents chapter i a mysterious disappearance ii a night ride iii the warning iv a strange reappearance v another warning vi trouble at square m vii doubling up viii dry again ix a shot in the night x into the tunnel xi the rush of waters xii the rising flood xiii where did it go? xiv a night attack xv the branding iron xvi queer actions xvii "germs!" xviii roped! xix an expedition in the dark xx into the depths xxi the figure on the rock xxii the water gate xxiii the conspirators xxiv a powerful stream xxv happy valley the boy ranchers in camp chapter i a mysterious disappearance "look out there, bud! look out! there you go!" "side-stepping soap dishes! what's the idea? whoa, there, sock!" the pinto pony reared, swerved sharply to one side as a black streak shot across the trail almost under his feet and then, when the animal came to a sudden stop, there shot over his head the boy who had given vent to the last exclamation. bud merkel came down sprawling on all fours in a bunch of grass which served, in a great measure, to break the force of the catapult over his pony's head. and then, as the lad righted himself and limped over to catch his steed, he cried: "what in the name of the petrified prune pie was that, billee?" "a jack, bud! a jack rabbit, and as black as gunpowder! yo' shore are in for some bad luck, now!" "bad luck! i should say so! almost breaking my neck, and laming sock," and the lad looked anxiously at his pinto, being relieved to find, however, that the animal had suffered no harm. "but this won't be all!" declared billee dobb. "i never see a black jack shoot in front of a man yet that bad luck didn't follow!" "well, let's make it go some to catch us!" suggested bud as he leaped to the saddle, after making sure that the girths were tight. "black jack! first one i ever saw," and he looked off in the distance toward a streak of dust, which was all that now represented the frightened rabbit that had shot across the trail so unexpectedly. "they aren't plentiful; thank your stars!" exclaimed the old cowboy. "i'm glad it didn't happen to _me_." "yes, if you'd a' toppled over your critter's head there'd be a bigger crack in the ground!" laughed bud, as he looked at his companion's greater girth and weight. "it came as sudden as a flash of lightning, that jack!" "bad luck allers does come that-a-way," croaked old billee dobb. "oh, you and your bad luck!" laughed bud. "come on now, hump yourself! hump yourself, you old soap-footing specimen of a slab of saltpeter!" he cried to his pony. "mosey along!" "what's your rush, bud? anybody's take a notion t' think you was in suthin' of a hurry, t' hear you talkin' that-a-way t' your critter," remarked billee as he ambled along behind his more impetuous companion. "hurry, billee? of course i'm in a hurry!" admitted bud, a tall, well-tanned lad as he adjusted himself to his saddle, and dashed ahead of his companion on the dusty trail. "i reckon you'd be in a rush, too, if your cousins that you hadn't seen since last fall were coming to camp all summer with you!" and bud merkel swung around in his creaking saddle to note the pace of his companion. "them two tenderfeet comin' out to diamond x ag'in?" asked old billee dobb. "course they are!" answered bud. "but they're a long shot from being tenderfeet, now, since they helped get rid of del pinzo and his cattle-rustling gang, and did their share in solving the mystery of the triceratops. tenderfeet! guess you'd better not let 'em _hear_ you call 'em that!" "mebby not, son! mebby not!" agreed old billee, rather mildly as he tried to urge his slower-going animal to keep pace with bud's. for the pinto, responding to the spur of voice and heel, had shot ahead. "i sorter forgot your cousins did have a hand in the lively doin's at diamond x last season. so they're coming out again, be they?" "yes, and we're going to make a camp of it, over in flume valley. i'm going to raise there the finest bunch of steers you ever hazed to the stock yards, and nort and dick are going to help me. i'm riding to meet them now at the water-hole, and we're going back to stay all summer in flume valley." "hum! flume valley!" mused the older cowboy, for both riders were of that class, though bud merkel was the son of the man who owned diamond x, and other important western ranches. "flume valley! that's where your paw started that irrigation scheme; ain't it?" "yes," replied bud. "it was only a waste bit of land before dad ran the water through the tunnel-flume from pocut river, but now it grows the best grass you ever rolled your bed in. and the steers--you ought to see 'em, billee!" "well, i'm aimin' to, right soon," responded the old man. "your paw was sayin' suthin' about putting me over there, but i didn't pay much attention to it. so you and the eastern lads are going to camp in flume valley, be you?" "yes, because, being an experiment, dad didn't want to build any ranch houses there yet. but if we make good on the deal, and can raise steers on the grass that's grown since the water was let in, why, i'm to have it for my own ranch, when i come of age, and dick and nort will be my partners. we'll call it diamond x second." "good name! mighty good name! look out there, you old piece of bacon fat!" he called sharply to his animal, pulling the pony quickly up as it stumbled. "there aren't any prairie dog holes here for you t' go puttin' your foot in! what's the matter of yo'?" but though old billee and bud spoke thus in seeming harshness to their horses, there was no unkindness in their treatment of the animals. it was just their picturesque, western manner of talking, and hardly had the echo of old billee's words died away on the hot, dusty air than he was gently patting the neck of the pony he rode. "did dad say you were to help me over in flume valley?" asked bud, as he slowed down the pace of his animal to keep alongside that of the older cowboy. "yes, he said i was to be your helper. and first i sorter hated to leave babe, slim, snake and the rest of the bunch. but if you say your cousins are coming out, and if we can raise better cattle there than on the home ranch, why, mebby it won't be so worse." "of course it won't!" cried bud. "why, even in the short time the steers have been in flume valley, billee, they've improved." "you say there's stock there now?" asked the old man, for he was gray-haired, "well, if they've been thrivin' by themselves so far, what's the good of you an' your cousins campin' there to watch 'em eat?" "lots of reasons," answered bud, as he and his companion started up a hill, on the other side of which they would reach the water-hole, where the main trail from diamond x came in. "for one thing this is something new, and dad wants it watched carefully. then, too, the water pipe and reservoir will need looking after. but, more than anything else, it's del pinzo and his gang of rustlers." "those scoundrels didn't get what they deserved for tryin' to run off our stock last year!" complained billee. "now they're raisin' ructions again; be they?" "they sure are!" declared bud. "it wasn't that they didn't get what they deserved, for they were sentenced to long terms. but the trouble was they didn't stay in jail where they were put." "i reckon they look at it just the other way!" chuckled billee. "yes," agreed bud. "but it's going to make trouble for dad and all the other cattle raisers around here having that bunch of mexicans and greasers loose. that's one reason why we've got to watch out at flume valley, where we're going to try to raise some cattle that will beat those at diamond x. i'm glad you're going to be with me, billee." "hum! you don't care what sort of trouble th' old man gits into; do you, bud?" and he smiled a toothless smile at his employer's son. "well, it's all in th' day's work, i reckon. but i'm not expected t' come with you to-night; am i? slim said i was to report t' him at the main buildin's." "no, you don't have to come right away," replied bud. "i'm to meet dick and nort at the water-hole--they were due at our ranch this morning--and you're to come when you can." "might as well be quick as sooner," laughed the old cowboy. "i don't take much to new-fangled notions. but orders is orders, i reckon." "oh, there isn't so much new at flume valley," said bud. "all it ever needed to make one of the best places in this part of the country for raising cattle was water. now, since dad had the big pipe flume put in from pocut river, where it can fill the reservoir and water the grass and the cattle at the same time, things are going to boom!" "they are to hear you tell 'em!" chuckled billee. "well, i wish you all good luck, bud, i'll help all i can. i'll be over to-night, if i can make it, though it's some of a ride after a day's work." "oh, i won't expect you," said bud. "i've got everything all laid out for the camp there. nort and dick will be with me, but we'll be on the lookout for you to-morrow. bring what things you need, and some grub. and if my mother has any pies baked, just pack a few of them." "only a _few_?" asked billee, with a grin. "as many as nell will let you take," laughed bud. "but there's nort and dick! whoop! oh, boy! come a-runnin'!" and the young rancher beat a tattoo with his heels on the sides of his steed, and raced down the slope toward two other lads who, like himself, were attired in conventional western costume. old billee pulled his steed to a halt and watched the greetings. "it's a great thing to be young!" sighed the old man. "the greatest thing in the world! but maybe i can do something yet! only i don't like that black jack--i shore don't! never heard of anythin' but bad luck followin' one of them nimble cusses! i don't like it for a cent!" "well, here we are!" cried nort shannon, flinging his broad-brimmed hat into the air, and catching it on the end of his . before the headpiece could touch the ground. "came right on time, too! zip foster couldn't 'a' made it better!" joyously declared bud, clapping his palm into that of nort. "haven't you run him off the ranch yet?" asked the other lad, who was rather short and stout, not to say fat. "run who off?" asked bud. "zip foster!" repeated dick. "last i heard of him----" "never mind _him_!" and bud seemed somewhat annoyed at having mentioned the name. "oh, but i'm glad you fellows are here! have a good trip? are you hungry? did you have grub enough? can you ride right out now? how's everybody at my house?" nort looked at his western cousin, and then, with a deliberate motion pretended to mop his face free of some imaginary perspiration, brought out by the rapid-fire questions on his cousin's part. "say! go a bit easy, will you, bud?" he begged. "one at a time! line forms on this side!" "we're going right out with you, and everybody's fine!" answered dick, summing up matters. "your father said we were to ride out and meet you here at the water-hole. we've got as much of our outfits as we'll need for a few days, and so let's mosey along. oh, but it's great to be back out west!"' "you got off a ripe one that time!" agreed nort. "who's that up there?" he asked, pointing to the figure of a solitary horseman on the hill down which bud had ridden. "looks like yellin' kid," commented dick. "it's old billee," answered bud. "he's going to be with us out at flume valley. did dad tell you of the new venture?" he asked his cousins. "yes, and it sounds good. must have been quite a trick to bring water from pocut river, bud." "well, it would have been if professor wright hadn't showed dad how to use an old underground water course for part of the way. then it was easy. and say--you ought to see what a difference water has made in that valley! it was almost a desert before we irrigated." "i'm anxious to see it!" said nort. "we can't get there any too soon to suit me," added dick. "just think! we're going to be our own bosses--boy ranchers for fair!" "you intimated plenty that time!" cried bud. "well, let's hit the trail!" the three boy ranchers started off, nort and dick accompanying bud back over the way the latter had come. as they rode up the hill old billee passed on down another trail, leading to diamond x proper. "howdy, boys!" called the old cowboy from the distance to nort and dick. "see you a bit later over at your own ranch!" he added, and then, with a friendly wave of his hand, he went down into a little swale, or valley, and was lost to sight. "now for some good times!" cried bud, as he rode between his two eastern cousins, who had again come to spend the summer with him in the great western outdoors. "if it's anything like last year we sure will have a bang-up vacation!" declared nort. "well, i can't promise anything like that--with cattle rustling and digging up animals ten million years old," laughed bud. "but i think we might have a little excitement." "how?" asked nort and dick eagerly. "tell you later," promised bud. they rode on, talking over old times and planning new ones, and as the shadows began to lengthen they rode down into a triangular valley, at one end of which a rude dam could be noticed, while, scattered over the green carpeted floor, were hundreds of grazing cattle. "say, this is some slick place!" cried dick. "the best ever!" affirmed nort. "and is this where we are to camp and ranch it?" "right here," declared bud. "course we haven't any ranch house yet. but we've got a tent--there it is," and he pointed to a white canvas shelter not far from the dam. "a tent! oh, boy! better and better!" yelled dick, as he urged his pony forward. as the three boy ranchers neared their headquarters, represented by two or three tents grouped together, there emerged from among them the figure of a man on horseback. "there's old buck tooth," said bud. "who?" asked the eastern cousins. "buck tooth--a zuni indian that dad picked up somewhere. he's one of the best herd-riders you'd want, and he and i are great friends. wonder what's the matter, though? he acts as though something had happened." bud pulled rein, to allow a better observation of the figure that was, obviously, riding out to meet him. nort and dick also halted their ponies. but buck tooth rode to meet them at great speed, sitting in the saddle as though part of it and the horse. he rode in a manner that made nort and dick envy him. "what's the matter, buck?" asked bud, as soon as the indian was within hailing distance. and then nort and dick could see why he was called that. a large, yellow-stained tooth protruded from his mouth, giving him not exactly a pleasant expression. "what's wrong, buck, you ride so _pronto_ like?" demanded the young western ranch boy. "heap wrong!" came the answer in guttural tones. "you no shut off water in pipe; eh?" "shut off the irrigation water? i should say not!" cried bud. "why, has anyone?" "water no come! all gone! no run splash-splash now!" and buck tooth waved his hand toward the reservoir made by a dam that curved out in a half circle from the wall of natural rock. "the water gone!" cried bud. "this is strange! let's have a look!" he and his cousins rode at top speed to the reservoir that had reclaimed flume valley from the semi-desert it had long been. dismounting, they climbed the slope and saw that from the great iron pipe, which was wont to spout a sparkling stream, there came only a few drops and trickles. "it's disappeared!" said bud in a low voice. "the water has taken another course! this means the end of flume valley, i reckon!" chapter ii a night ride the boy ranchers stood looking down into the reservoir, which was almost full of water, but which was slowly running out through the different gates, some to concrete drinking troughs where thirsty cattle congregated, and some to distant meadows where it supplied moisture for the grass on which the steers of diamond x second fed. from the slightly ruffled surface of the reservoir, as the evening wind blew across the water, the gazes of bud, nort and dick sought the faces of one another. "this looks had!" murmured bud, while buck tooth, the zuni indian, grunted something in his own incomprehensible dialect. "what does it mean?" asked nort, as he looked down the slope from the reservoir to the group of tents that was to form the home of himself, his brother and cousin for several months, while they were in camp. "it means the water supply, on which i depended to raise these steers, has petered out," answered bud, and there was a worried note in his voice. "you mean stopped for good?" asked dick. "i hope not," went on bud. "but from what you can see--no water coming through the pipe line that dad laid to the pocut river--i should say there was a break in it somewhere, and it will have to be fixed right away--that is, if i'm to keep these cattle here," and he looked down the valley where the bunches of steers were ever on the move, seeking new places to feed, or coming to drink water from the supply flowing out of the reservoir. "we seem to have struck a job right off the bat!" remarked dick, as he picked up a stone and tossed it into the reservoir. "just as we did when we came west before, and had to jump out and help the queer professors," added nort. "but we're ready to go to work, bud. all you'll have to do is say the word and----" but bud did not seem to be paying much attention to what his cousin was saying. instead his gaze followed that of his zuni indian helper. buck tooth was looking off up the hill under which the big pipe ran to the distant pocut river on the other side of the mountain. and as bud and buck tooth looked, and as the gaze of nort and dick was bent in the same direction, they all beheld a figure on the back of a fast-moving pony, riding up the trail that led over snake mountain. "who's that, buck? see him!" yelled bud. "no can tell. old billee, mebby!" grunted the indian. "no! old billee just left me! he's back at the ranch house. but that's a stranger, and i don't like strangers sneaking around my ranch--especially when there's a break just happened to my pipe line!" exclaimed bud. "i'm going to look into this!"' "hi there! hold on a minute! i want to talk to you!" he yelled, making a megaphone of his hands and directing it at the figure on the back of the sturdy pony that was scrambling up the mountain trail. "wait a minute!" but this the stranger seemed unwilling to do. the watching group near the reservoir saw him raise his quirt, or short whip, and bring it down savagely on the back of the pony, which, already, was doing its best to carry its master out of distance. then, with a quick motion, bud drew his . , and though both nort and dick saw him aim it high above the man's head, in order to shoot over him, horse and rider went down in a tumbled heap at the sound of the report, which followed as bud pulled the trigger. "you've winged him!" cried dick. "shucks! didn't mean to hit him--just shot to scare him!" declared bud. "but we'll have to see about it now! come on!" he cried, and he ran down the side of the reservoir to where he had left sock, his pony, followed by dick and nort who also headed for their steeds. "hu!" grunted the indian, as he came on down more leisurely. "no water--man shot--new boys come--big time, mebby! hu!" and buck tooth was more than right. big times impended in flume valley. while bud merkel and his two cousins who had arrived from the east only the day before were mounting their ponies, to ride up the side of snake mountain, and seek the man bud had shot, i shall have a chance to tell my new readers something about the boy ranchers, and the volume that immediately precedes this one. the book is entitled "the boy ranchers; or solving the mystery at diamond x." norton, or nort, and dick, or richard, shannon were sons of mr. and mrs. thornton shannon, and their home was in the cast. when mr. shannon, the summer previous, had been obliged to make a trip to south america, with his wife, he sent his sons to spend their vacation at diamond x, one of the western cattle ranches owned by henry merkel, mrs. shannon's brother. almost immediately on their arrival nort and dick, who were then rightly classed as "tenderfeet," became involved in a strange mystery. a call for help came, and they took part in the rescue of two college professors who had been attacked by a band of mexicans and "greasers," the latter being a low-class mexican. the professors were rescued, but the mystery only deepened. what it was, and how it came to be solved, you will find set down at length in the first volume. sufficient to say, here, that nort and dick, as it were, "cut their eye teeth," during the exciting experiences that followed their arrival at diamond x. the eastern boys learned how properly to ride a pony cowboy fashion, they learned the use of the branding iron, the lariat and "gun," as the . revolvers were universally called. they learned, also, how to "ride herd," "ride line" and how to live in the open, with the prairie grass for a bed and the star-studded sky for a blanket, their saddle forming the pillow. mr. merkel, bud's father, owned several ranches besides diamond x, so named because that brand was used on the cattle from it. he had square m, and triangle b, the explanation of which names are obvious. when it came time for nort and dick to return east, as winter approached, they left, promising to return as soon as their summer vacation should arrive, for they were determined to become boy ranchers in earnest, an ambition in which bud shared. now it was summer again, and nort and dick had once more journeyed to their uncle's ranch, to be met by bud, as arranged, at the water-hole. for between the two visits of the easterners some changes had been made at diamond x. bud had been clamoring to be allowed to raise some cattle "on his own," and his father had consented. off to the north of diamond x, and in a depression between the snake mountains on the east and buffalo ridge on the west, was another valley, well sheltered from the wintry blasts. this valley was owned by mr. merkel, and though part of it was timbered, and some scattered sections produced an excellent variety of grass for stock, there was no dependable source of drinking water available. and without water at hand it is impossible to raise cattle in the west--or any place else, for that matter. how to get water to "flume valley," as it came to be called, was a problem. it would have been put to use raising cattle long before this had mr. merkel been able to get any water there for the animals to drink, and also some to irrigate the more arid portions so that fodder would grow. at the foot of the eastern slope of snake mountains ran the pocut river, which served to supply not only diamond x, square m and triangle b ranches with water, but also those of double z and circle t, the respective holdings of hank fisher and thomas ogden. but though pocut river gave plenty of water to bud's father and the other ranchmen, none was available for the isolated valley which, except for this, would have been an ideal place to raise steers. and it was here that the good services of professor wright, one of the scientists mentioned in the first volume, came into play. for professor wright discovered an ancient underground water course, connecting with pocut river, and when this had been partly tunneled, re-opened at places where it had caved in, and a big iron pipe laid part of the way, water came gushing out into flume valley, as bud renamed the place, it having been called buffalo wallow before that time; probably when there was water in it and the buffalo made it a rendezvous. and when the water came through the iron pipe, falling into the reservoir that had been built to hold it in reserve, bud was allowed to begin his experiment in stock raising. his father provided him with the cattle, and bud was a boy rancher in reality now. his cousins had agreed to help him in the venture on their arrival, and bud had been expecting them when he rode out with old billee that day. old billee was one of the diamond x cowboys, and he might have been made a foreman, except that he had no executive ability. he could do as he was told, and that was about all. he was reliable and dependable, but had no initiative for big undertakings. old billee, with buck tooth and some other cowboys, had been assigned to help bud in his venture. as bud has told his cousins, when he rode to meet them at the water-hole, on the trail from diamond s ranch, there was no time, yet, to construct ranch houses in flume valley. tents would have to serve the purpose, and the boys were rather pleased, than otherwise, with this. "it will be just like camp!" said bud. and so the easterners had arrived, and, almost with the moment of their coming, there had begun the first act in what was to prove a drama of almost tragic happenings. "you stay at the camp, buck!" called bud to the zuni, as the three boy ranchers mounted and prepared to ride up to where the unknown man had collapsed after bud had fired. "you stick around! old billee, or some of the boys from diamond x may ride over, though i don't expect them until morning. stay here, buck!" "me stick!" gutturally answered the indian. "you catchum man mebby--git back water." "maybe," agreed bud, as he and his cousins trotted off up the trail, which wound around the reservoir and over the mountain. dusk was falling as the boys reached the vicinity of the place whence they had seen the lone rider emerge from the bushes, spurring his horse up the rocky trail that led over snake mountain, as the whole ridge was known. "must have been about here," said dick, as he reined in his steed, for which the panting animal, doubtless, was grateful. "little farther on, i think," said his brother. "no, it was right here," declared bud, as he dismounted and began to scan the ground. "here's where his horse slipped," and he pointed to the tell-tale marks on the trail. "yes, and look--you hit him all right!" added dick. he indicated some dull, red spots on the stones. bud reached down and gingerly touched them. "blood!" he murmured. "guess i did wing him--or the horse--but i don't see how i could. i fired high." "but where did he go?" asked nort, following the marks left by a horse that had, obviously, been hard pressed. "see, the sign goes right up to this rocky wall, and then stops. he couldn't have gotten up there, could he?" "not unless he wore wings," said bud grimly. "but it's getting too dark to see well. we'd better be getting back to camp." "i thought you were going to follow this up, and see what had happened to your pipe line," suggested dick. "i am, but we can't ride on without some grub. no telling what we may stack up against. we'll have to make a night ride of it, i'm thinking, and i'd like to have buck tooth along. he's a shark on following a blind trail. come on, we'll go back to camp, get some grub and then take this up again. i hope i didn't kill him, though," murmured bud, as he again leaped to the saddle, an example followed by nort and dick. "who was he?" asked the latter, puffing slightly from his exertions, for he was much stouter than his brother nort. "search me!" replied bud. "looked mighty suspicious, though, the way he rode off. and if he wasn't up to something wrong he'd 'a' stopped when i hailed him." "do you think he had anything to do with the break in the pipe?" asked nort. "you've got me again," confessed his western cousin. "we'll have to make a night ride of it and find out." they rode back to the camp tents, to find buck tooth calmly smoking his red-stone indian pipe, and gazing off in the darkening distance at nothing at all, as far as the boys could determine. "anybody been around, buck?" asked bud. "nope!" was the answer. "you catchum dead man?" "not a sign, buck! beckon he must have dug a hole and pulled it in after him. but we've got to find out what's the matter with the pipe line. there's only a few days' supply of water in the reservoir. rustle out some grub, and we'll ride over the mountain." "um," grunted the zuni, and a little later, after a hasty meal of flapjacks, bacon and coffee, the boy ranchers, with the old zuni indian, started on a night ride over the mountain trail, in the general direction of the pipe line, the supply of fluid for which had so mysteriously stopped. but strange events were only just beginning to happen in flume valley. there were others in store for the boy ranchers. chapter iii the warning "will it be safe to leave our camp alone, like this?" asked nort, as he and his companions rode off, leaving behind them the white tents, gleaming in the wondrous light of a full moon. "why not?" inquired bud. "it won't walk away." "no, but some one might come in and take everything." "there isn't much worth taking. you brought your old stuff with you, we have our ponies, so all they could snibby would be the camp dishes, and they aren't worth the risk." "could they drive off any of your cattle?" asked dick. "why don't you say _our_ cattle?" asked bud with a smile, which was plainly to be seen in the brilliant moonlight. "you fellows are in this venture with me, you know." "we haven't yet gotten used to thinking of it that way," remarked nort, as he rode beside buck tooth. the old zuni indian managed to keep pace beside the boys without ever urging his pony forward, a trick of riding which even bud envied. "well, you'd _better_ get used to it," was the laughing retort. "your dad staked you to part of the expenses of this deal, same as mine did me, and of course you'll share in the profits--if there are any," bud added rather dubiously. "and if we don't get that water back there won't be enough to make you need a hat to carry 'em off." "as bad as that?" inquired nort. "oh, i'm not saying it's bad--_yet_!" exclaimed bud. "there may be just a stoppage in the pipe, which can easily be cleaned out. or, it may be--something else." but what else it might be he did not say, and nort and dick were not sufficiently familiar with irrigation and flume lines to hazard a guess. but they knew enough about their cousin to tell that he was worried. "what do you plan to do?" asked dick, as the four rode on, their ponies occasionally stumbling as they mounted the rocky trail that led over snake mountain. "look for that man--the one you----" "the one i _didn't_ shoot!" interrupted bud. "i'm as sure i didn't hit him as i am that we four are here this minute. i know i fired too high!" "unless the bullet hit a rock and glanced down," suggested nort. "well, yes, that may have happened," admitted bud. "but if he was badly hurt he couldn't get away, as he did." "could he have fallen into any hole or gully?" asked dick. "we didn't look for that." "he might have," admitted the western lad. "but what i'm looking for, now, isn't that fellow, who may or may not be shot, but for the break in my flume--that's what i want to locate. once i get the water so it's running back in my reservoir i'll feel better. for if there's a permanent shut-off we might as well move out of flume valley," he went on. "the cattle would just naturally die of thirst!" "isn't there any water at all?" asked nort, as he pulled his pony up sharply when the animal stumbled. "not enough to water all the stock i aim to raise," answered bud. "at the far end of the valley--away from our camp--the grass grows pretty well, for some rain does fall there once in a while. but there isn't a water-hole worth the name, and you know what happens to cattle when they can't get a drink!" "i should say so!" commented nort, for he and his brother had seen some of the terrible suffering caused by animals having to be driven long distances without any water being available. "then the pipe line is your only hope?" "that, and the ancient underground watercourse it connects with to bring water from the pocut river," replied bud. "you see, there's a sort of natural tunnel under the mountain, and this was once an old river bed. i suppose, or at least professor wright has told us, that once this tunnel was full-up with water. but there was a change in the direction of the old stream, and the water tunnel dried up. however, it didn't cave in, except in a few places, and we now use it to bring water to flume valley. there is really only a comparatively short length of pipe at either end, one end being where the water from the pocut river enters, and the other where the pipe delivers the water to our reservoir." "how are you going to find the break?" asked dick. "or stoppage?" suggested nort. "well, i aim to ride over the mountain tonight," answered bud, "and see if all is clear at the river intake end of the line. if it is, i'll know there must be a stoppage, or break, somewhere inside the old water tunnel." "how you going to find that?" inquired nort. "why, we'll get lanterns and ride through," replied bud. "that's easy!" "ride through an underground river!" cried dick. "you can't!" "no, we couldn't if the old underground river course was _full_," agreed bud, "but it _isn't_. there's only a comparatively small amount of water flowing through the old course, which is wide enough for two of us to ride or walk abreast, and twice as high as you need. i've ridden through more than once. it's like a long, natural tunnel under the mountain, with water flowing in the center depression, so to speak." "must be rather spooky inside there," suggested nort. "it is a little; and it's nearly an all-day's ride. but it's the only way to find the trouble. professor wright said that some day the water might work through, and go off on a new course, and in that case i'd be dished until i could stop up the break." "well, we'll help all we can," offered nort. "sure thing!" echoed his brother. "we'd better take it a bit easy now," spoke bud, as the ascent of the mountain became more steep. "we don't want to wind the ponies, and we may have a hard day ahead of us to-morrow." "it _is_ quite a climb," admitted nort. "are we going to ride all night?" "no, we'll turn in about midnight," said bud. "but this will give us a start so we can get to the pocut river end of the flume by morning. we can stop any time you fellows want to." "oh, we aren't tired!" dick hastened to say, a sentiment with which his brother agreed. "this is as much fun as riding herd, and driving off the cattle rustlers." "glad you like it," commented bud. "and the rustlers might as well drive off our stock, if we don't soon get this water to running again. old billee said i'd have bad luck when that black rabbit crossed my path, and it sure is coming!" "what black rabbit was that?" asked nort, curiously. "one that gave me a tumble when i was riding to meet you," answered bud. "i never saw one before, and i don't want to again. not that i'm superstitious, but there sure is something queer about _this_! i don't like it for a cent!" the boy ranchers and the zuni indian rode on, mounting higher and higher along the mountain trail, heading for the summit. and when they reached it, and bud, by a glance at his watch, announced that it was midnight, he followed with the suggestion that they camp there for the remainder of the night. "we can make the rest of the trip in a couple of hours, for it's down hill," he said. "camp suits me," murmured nort, and soon, after a bite to eat, they rolled themselves in their blankets, having tied the ponies to scrub bushes, and went to sleep. the riding of the boys, coupled with the pure air they had breathed, brought them slumber almost at once, and even buck tooth, alert as he usually was, neither saw nor heard anything of the sinister visitor who came softly upon the sleeping ones during the night hours. for there did come a visitor in the night, as evidenced by a scrawled warning, on a dirty piece of paper, fastened to a stubby tree by a long, sharp thorn. it was this fluttering bit of paper that caught dick's eye when he awakened, rather lame and stiff, and stretched himself in his blanket as the sun shone in his eyes next morning. "hello!" he cried, taking a hasty look around to see if bud had, perchance, ridden away without awakening his companions, and had left this note to tell them so. "what's the idea?" and then dick noticed that all three of his companions were stretched out near him, and the four ponies were standing together not far away. "what idea?" asked bud, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "that special delivery letter," and dick pointed to it. "wasn't here last night," he went on, "for i tied blackie to that tree before i staked him out. what is it?" bud rolled out of his blanket, and took the piece of paper from the tree. "it's a warning!" he announced. "a warning?" cried nort and dick, while buck tooth began making a fire. "yes," went on the boy rancher. "here's what it says: "'don't take no more watter frum pocut river if you want to stay healthy!'" "whew!" whistled dick. "what does that mean?" "just what i'd like to know," said bud, and then all three boys started, and looked toward the upward slope of the mountain, down which they had partly descended. for there came rolling toward them a mass of dirt and stones, indicating the approach of some one. chapter iv a strange reappearance characteristic it was of bud merkel, being a son of the west as he was, that his hand instinctively sought the leather holster whence protruded the grim, black handle of his . . but he did not draw the weapon, nor did nort or dick pull theirs, which they had started to get out when they noted bud's action. for bud smiled when he had a glimpse of the newcomer, and buck tooth, who had glanced up from where he was making the fire, gave a grunt of welcome. "babe!" exclaimed nort, as he recognized the fat assistant foreman of diamond x ranch. "babe!" "sure! who'd you think it was?" came the smiling question. "looks like you had an idea it might be one of them rustlers that made trouble when you fellers was here before! eh? "glad t' see you two _ex_-tenderfeet," and babe milton grinned broadly as he accented the _ex_, and held out a welcoming hand to nort and dick. "they said you was comin' back to diamond x, but i sorter missed you--been out tryin' t' locate a bunch of strays," he confided to bud, "an' i didn't have no luck! glad to meet yo' all, though, powerful glad! 'specially on account of that there coffee!" and he sniffed the air as he caught the aroma of the fragrant pot buck tooth was putting on to boil. "but what are you lads doing so far from diamond x?" babe went on, when they had moved over to the camp fire, the blaze of which was genially warm this cool morning on the mountain. "we aren't stopping there this trip," said nort. "we're 'on our own,'" proceeded bud. "i'm raising cattle in the old buffalo wallow valley--flume i call it now." "oh, yes, i did hear you were going to tackle that," spoke babe. "didn't know you'd got stocked up, though. well, i've been over at square m for so long i don't hear no real news no more. gosh! but we did have some excitement the time those professor chaps pulled that _trombone_ out of the ground; didn't we, bud?" he chuckled. "triceratops, babe! triceratops!" corrected bud, laughing at the expression of the fat assistant foreman's face. "i never could remember the name of them musical pieces, nohow!" sighed babe. "fond as i am, too, of singing," and, taking a long breath, he bellowed forth on the unoffensive morning air this portion of a ballad: "sing me to sleep with a spur for a rattle, fill up the biscuits with lead. coil me a rope 'round th' ole weepin' willow, curl my feet under my head!" "glad you feel that way about it," remarked bud, rather soberly, as they squatted around the fire for breakfast, which buck tooth seemed to have prepared in record time. "what's bit you?" asked babe, pausing with a smoking flapjack half way to his mouth, while in his other hand he held a steaming tin cup of coffee. "git out th' wrong side of th' saddle this mornin'?" "no, but there's trouble over at the valley," explained bud. "the water has stopped running and----" "the _water_ stopped running!" interrupted babe. "yes, and when we start out, intending to see what's the trouble, we get this warning," and bud extended the dirty piece of paper that had been fastened to the tree with the thorn. "whew-ee-ee!" whistled babe, as he read the scrawl of misspelled words. he opened his mouth again, to intone another of the hundred or more verses of his favorite cowboy song, but bud motioned to him to refrain. "don't you like my singin'?" asked babe, a bit hurt. "yes, but i want to ask you some questions," went on bud. "you say you've been out looking for strays?" "yep; prospectin' up and down snake mountain all yist'day an' part of th' night. my grub giv' out with supper last night, an' i was hopin' i might even run into a bunch of greasers, when i saw you folks spreadin' th' banquet table here." "glad you joined us," remarked nort. "so'm i," mumbled babe, his mouth full of bacon and flapjacks. "but what's your questions, bud? shoot!" "did you see anybody who might have written this?" and the boy rancher again read the sinister warning: "'don't take no more watter frum pocut river if you want to stay healthy.'" "why, no, i didn't see nobody," spoke babe, with more force than grammar. "'tain't a joke; is it?" "not when i tell you the water has stopped running," said bud. "so you did! hum, that's mighty queer like!" mused the assistant foreman, who had, early in the spring, been transferred to mr. merkel's square m ranch from diamond x. "but some of us rather thought there'd be trouble when your paw dammed up the river to shunt some of it through the old water course over to buffalo wallow. hank fisher claims his water supply has been lessened by what your paw did, bud." "that's all bosh!" exclaimed bud. "there's as much water for hank fisher as he ever had at double z. besides, this isn't his way of doing business. he's as mean as they make 'em, but he'll come out in the open and tell you what he thinks of you." "yes, hank is that way--_sometimes_," agreed babe cautiously. "at th' same time i wouldn't put it past him. better tell your paw about this, bud. you got grit--all three of you!" and he included the other boys in his glance. "but you can't fight hank fisher, del pinzo and that onery gang of greasers and mexicans!" "there!" cried nort, clapping his hand down on his outstretched leg. "that's who that man was--del pinzo!" "what man?" asked babe. "the one bud shot." "what's that?" cried babe, half starting to his feet. "did you shoot somebody?" "well, i may have _creased_ him," admitted the boy, using a word to denote a grazing bullet wound, hardly more than a scratch. "whew-ee-ee!" whistled babe again. "this sounds like old times! let's have the hull yarn, buddy!" he appealed. whereupon bud related how he had ridden from his new ranch--diamond x second--to meet his cousins whom he expected. he told of finding the stream of water shut off, of the appearance of the man, the shot, his sudden vanishing, and the subsequent night ride of the boys. "that was del pinzo, i'm sure of it!" declared nort. "i was trying to think where i'd seen him before, and now i remember!" "you couldn't very well forget del pinzo," declared bud. "but this wasn't he. that isn't saying that it might not have been, of course," he added, "for i understand he broke jail, after they caught him and sent him up for rustling our cattle. no, this wasn't that slick mexican, nort." "who was it?" asked babe, helping himself to another of the flapjacks which buck was making in a skillet over the greasewood fire. "that's what we don't know," said bud. "he just naturally vanished, the way my water did. what are you going to do, babe?" "well, i ought t' keep on lookin' for them strays your paw's so anxious about," was the answer. "but i reckon i got time t' mosey along with you. you say you're goin' down to the river?" "yes, to see if there's anything wrong at the intake pipe," bud answered. "then i'll go with you," offered babe. "and before you try that ride through the old water course, under the mountain, you'd better call up your paw." "what for?" bud wanted to know. "well, he mightn't altogether like it. there's a risk, an' he may want t' send some of us with you. it's easy t' get him on the 'phone from the dam." "yes," agreed bud, "i s'pose i had better do that." he remembered that where pocut river had been dammed to enable water to flow into the pipe line, and then through the old river course to his reservoir, there was a general store, which boasted of a telephone. a little later, breakfast having been finished, the party, now including babe, reached the pocut river. there an inspection showed the water from the river above the dam running freely into the pipe that carried it to flume valley. "nothing wrong here," remarked bud as he looked into the dark tunnel which received one end of the pipe. and it was through this natural tunnel, extending under the mountain, being the course of an old stream, that the boy ranchers proposed riding. "no, th' trouble must be somewhere inside," agreed babe. "but call up your paw, bud." which bud did, learning from his father at diamond x, that old billee had departed, early that morning, to take up his abode at the camp in the valley. "better wait until old billee reaches your place, and then call him up," suggested mr. merkel to his son over the wire, for there was a 'phone in bud's camp. it seemed rather an incongruity, but it was a great convenience, since it connected directly with diamond x, triangle b and square m ranches, as well as with the regular lines. there was nothing to do but wait until old billee might be expected to have reached the camp in flume valley, and after several hours bud called up his own new ranch headquarters. "they don't answer," central reported. "he's taking his time," commented babe. but an hour or so later, after several other trials, the voice of old billee came back over the wire from miles distant. "hello! hello there! wassa matter? wassa matter?" demanded the voice of the old cowpuncher. "where's everybody, anyhow? nobody here but me!" "we're over at the dam--pocut river," called bud into the instrument. "say, billee, something happened at my place last night. the water stopped, and we came over here to see where the stoppage was. but it's all right here. how about you there?" "all serene here, bud, all serene! wait a minute and i'll take a look at your reservoir. i can see it from the tent where you got this talkin' contraption strung. you say the water stopped last night?" "stopped complete, billee," bud answered back over the wire. "well then, if there's any comin' over the spillway, now, it's a sign she's runnin' here ag'in, i take it!" "sure thing. but is she running?" asked bud, anxiously. "wait a minute, an' i'll take a look. hold on to that there wire!" "i'll hold it!" promised bud, smiling at his cousins. there was a moment of anxious waiting and, in fancy, the boy ranchers could see old billee going to the tent flap and looking toward the reservoir. "hello, bud!" presently came the call over the wire. "hello, billee. what about it?" "water's there all right! must 'a' come back in th' night! she's runnin' fine now!" chapter v another warning bud merkel was about to hang up the receiver, with a blank and uncomprehending look on his face, when babe caught the black rubber earpiece from him. "wait a minute, billee!" called babe into the transmitter. "see anything of anybody around there? anything suspicious?" the others could not hear what the old cowboy's answer was, but babe soon enlightened them. "he says it's all serene," babe declared as he now hung up the receiver. "nobody in sight, an' the water is runnin' through the pipe as natural as can be." "i can't understand it!" declared bud. "it was almost as dry as a bone when we left last night." "but it's running in here from the river dam," said nort. "then there must have been a break somewhere in the tunnel natural water course," declared bud. "well, if it mended itself so much the better. but that doesn't explain this," and he held out the scrawled warning. "and if the water stopped once it may stop again." "yes," agreed babe, "but if anybody wanted to stop it they'd have to do it either at this end, where the pipe takes water from the river, or at your end, bud, where it delivers water to your reservoir." "unless somebody stopped the stream inside the tunnel," suggested dick. "then it would back up here at the river end," said nort, quickly, "and it hasn't done that." "no, it hasn't," agreed bud. "it sure is queer. i'm beginning to think there may be more in that black rabbit than i believed first." "what rabbit is that?" asked babe. "the one old billee said would bring me bad luck," bud answered. "well," he went on to his cousins, "we might as well go back to camp. we can't do anything here." "if you've got water that's all you want in flume valley," declared babe. "there isn't a finer place t' raise cattle in all th' world than there--if you have _water_!" "and if you haven't--you might as well quit!" spoke bud. "you eliminated an earful that time," the assistant foreman stated. "but i reckon it was just a little break, inside th' tunnel, an' it filled itself up natural like. you won't have any more trouble." "i hope not," spoke the boy rancher. "are you going on back to diamond x, babe?" "not until i find that bunch of strays from square m. they're too valuable t' let slip." "especially to let hank fisher, or del pinzo, slip them away," exclaimed bud as he and his chums left the store where they had been telephoning. "not so loud! not so loud!" cautioned babe. "why not?" bud wanted to know, when they were outside. "'cause one of hank's men was in there! he'll be sure t' tell what you said, bud." "let him! i'm not afraid of hank, or his tool del pinzo, and i'd just as soon either one would know what i think of 'em!" "don't be too brash; don't be too brash!" counseled babe. "but they sure are both bad actors--del an' hank!" there was nothing more that needed to, or could, be done at the pocut river end of the flume, part natural, part artificial, which supplied bud's new ranch with such a vital necessity as water. the stream had been dammed just above the intake pipe--not completely dammed, but enough to provide the necessary head of water. as nort had said, had the stream been stopped purposely or by accident inside the tunnel, the water would have backed up and run out around the pipe, flowing into the river below the dam. but this had not occurred. "if it doesn't happen again we'll be all right," spoke bud, as he rode back with his cousins, making an easy pace along the trail that led over snake mountain and down into flume valley. "but if the water stops running again----" "let's go through the tunnel; it's the only way to be sure!" interrupted nort. "i'm with you!" exclaimed dick. "it would seem to be the only way," agreed bud. "well, we'll hope this is the end of my black-rabbit bad luck, and look for success, now that you fellows are here. cracky! but we'll have some good times, and there'll be plenty of work, too!" "how many cattle you got?" asked nort. "about five hundred," bud answered. "course you have a share with me, that your dad bought, but we don't own 'em outright yet. my dad still has a mortgage on 'em." "but if we have luck we can clear that off; can't we?" asked dick. "sure, this year, maybe," assented bud. "i never saw steers fatten so fast as ours have since i brought 'em to flume valley. i reckon the land, being without water so long, raises a specially fine kind of grass. of course, there's always some at the far end of the valley, good grass, too, but when there wasn't any water for the cattle to drink there wasn't any use trying to raise stock there. but now it's different." "and all we want is for the water to stay," added dick. "that's all," chimed in his brother. with buck tooth trailing behind, the three boys took the mountain trail and reached their camp near the reservoir that evening. they found old billee and yellin' kid waiting for them, these two cowboys having been assigned by mr. merkel to help his son in the lad's new venture. "well, yo' got back, i see," remarked old billee as he greeted the lads, the indian going off by himself, for he was rather taciturn in his manner. "yes, we're here," admitted bud. "but i can't understand that water coming back so unexpectedly." "are you sure it stopped running?" asked yellin' kid in his usual loud voice. "sure!" declared bud. "didn't buck see it--or, rather, he didn't see it, for there wasn't any water to see coming through the pipe--only a few drops." "i wouldn't take his word," declared old billee. "not that buck would actually lie, but those indians are queer." "oh, we all saw that the water wasn't running," declared nort. "well, it was when i got here," stated the old cowboy. "and there wasn't a sign of anything wrong. but if there had been i'd expected it, 'count of----" "that black rabbit, i reckon!" broke in bud. "perzactly!" declared old billee. "a black jack shore is bad luck, at any stage of the game!" but for a time there seemed to be no truth in this western omen. following the first mysterious disappearance of the water, and its equally strange reappearance, peace seemed to settle down over flume valley. the steers and yearlings, with which bud's father had entrusted him and the boy ranchers, thrived and fattened on the succulent grass. old billee, yellin' kid, with buck tooth's help, aided the boys in such minor duties as were necessary to perform about the camp. the main duty was looking after the safety of the cattle, to see that none of them strayed beyond the wire fence at the far end of the valley. should any stray from the other egress, nearest diamond x ranch, no great harm would result, as they would still be on their owner's land. but the farther, or north end, adjoined land owned by hank fisher, the double z representative. and there were ugly stories current concerning mr. fisher. but as the days passed, and as the water still flowed through the pipes and underground tunnel into the reservoir, bud and his companions began to think they had imagined more troubles than were really to occur. "guess that warning was only a bluff," said bud, one day. "and the black rabbit doesn't seem to have given you the jinx," added nort. "but we didn't find that man you shot," put in dick. "i don't believe i shot him," declared bud. "there was blood, sure enough, but he may have stumbled, as, in fact, we saw him, and scratched himself." "but where did he disappear to?" asked nort. "give up," answered bud. "we'll have to take another look after we get our first shipment out of the way." for the first bunch of steers from the flume valley camp were to be disposed of shortly. it was the day when this shipment was to be made that bud, awakening early in the tent where he slept with his cousins, uttered an exclamation of surprise as he caught sight of something on the blanket that covered him. "what's the matter?" asked dick, sitting up. "did you leave this here?" asked bud, as he held up a piece of board, evidently part of a packing case. "me? no!" answered dick. "what is it?" "either it's a joke, or it's the black rabbit getting in his work," answered bud. "it's from an unknown enemy--another warning!" and, as bud held up the board, nort and dick could read, scrawled on it, evidently with a fire-blackened stick, the words: "warning no. . when will you quit?" chapter vi trouble at square m "guess that must be a joke," decided nort, as he stepped gingerly from his cot, for it was cold in the mornings, though hot enough at midday. "likely old billee or yellin' kid stuck it there," added the eastern lad, as he looked at the scrawled warning. "old billee wouldn't do it," declared bud. "he's gotten over his joking days. but it might have been yellin' kid." "sure!" agreed dick. "probably he did it to make what billee said about the black rabbit come true--to sort of scare you, bud." "well, of course that _might_ have happened," admitted the western lad, but from the tone of his voice, as he made a hasty toilet, his cousins could tell he was far from being convinced. "you don't reckon it could be buck tooth, do you?" asked dick, following his cousin's example in attiring himself for the day's work. "what? that zuni indian? i should say not! his idea of a joke would make your hair stand on end--or it would in his wild and younger days. now all he cares about, after he gets through riding herd, is to sit in the sun and smoke his mexican cigarettes. buck tooth doesn't joke." "well, maybe it was yellin' kid," suggested nort. but when, a little later, they assembled in the meal tent, to partake of breakfast, and bud produced the scrawled board, yellin' kid was the first to shake his head at the implied question. "i like fun!" he remarked in his loud, good-natured voice, "but i don't play such jokes as this. my idea of fun would be to help dig up another one of them queer, slidin'-trombone insects with the three horns that the professor fellers discovered. but this--why, bud, this may be serious business!" "that black rabbit--i told you!" croaked old billee. "do you really think it means anything?" asked the boy rancher, while his young partners in the new venture leaned eagerly forward to listen to the answer. "i sure do," declared yellin' kid. "all of us have known, bud, an' your father among 'em, that puttin' a dam in pocut river, an' taking water for you here, at flume valley, made the double z outfit mad enough t' rear up on their hind legs an' howl! hank fisher has claimed, all along, that th' diamond x outfit hadn't any right t' take water from th' river, t' shunt over on th' other side of snake mountain, where we are, here." "yes, i heard dad say that," spoke bud. "but if hank fisher had any rights that we violated, why didn't he go to law about it?" "that isn't hank's way," commented yellin' kid. "he'd more likely try some such tricks as _that_," and the cowboy nodded toward the warning on the board. "do you think he left that?" asked nort. "and was he, or del pinzo, in our camp last night?" cried dick. "as to that i couldn't say," replied yellin' kid. "i slept like two tops last night, after i got t' sleep. i didn't even hear you fellows _snore_," he added, for the three boy ranchers had a tent to themselves, while old billee and yellin' kid bunked in an adjoining one, buck tooth having his own special dugout near the camp fire. "we never snore!" declared nort. "well, i didn't hear a sound!" assented yellin' kid. "nor i," said old billee. there was no use asking buck tooth. an actual demonstration would have been required to make him understand what a "snore" was, and then he might have misinterpreted it into an attempt to work some "magic" on him. "well, somebody came in our camp, and left that board--there's no getting away from the fact," declared bud, as he put aside the ominous warning. "and it may have some connection with the stoppage of the water, or it may not." "i'm inclined t' think it has," said yellin' kid. "an', what's more, bud, i think we'll wake up again, some mornin', t' find that reservoir of yours out-a business." "do you mean hank fisher, or del pinzo and his crowd, will blow it up?" asked bud anxiously. "not exactly that, but they'll cut off your water supply." "but how can they?" asked bud. "they can't do anything to the pipe intake at pocut river without being seen, and dad had legal advice to the effect that he has as good right to that river water as double z, or any other ranch. and as for this end of the pipe here, we can look after that, i reckon," and he significantly tapped his . which he had strapped on, preparatory to getting ready for the cattle shipment. "that's all right," asserted yellin' kid. "but you've forgotten th' big tunnel under the mountain, bud, where the water runs free after it leaves the river pipe, an' before it gets to the pipe here." "but hank, or del pinzo, can't cut off the water inside the mountain tunnel without having it back up and run into the river again--and it didn't do that!" bud insisted. yellin' kid shrugged his shoulders, as he started for the corral to get his horse, since he was to aid in driving the cattle to the railroad stock yard. "i don't know nothin' about th' scientific end of it," he drawled loudly, "but, mark my words, there's some queer business goin' on, an' hank fisher an' del pinzo have a hand in it. look out for your water supply, bud; that's my advice!" "an' don't let any more black rabbits cross your path," added old billee. "bunk!" scoffed bud. "though i don't like this warning, all the same. let's go take a look at the reservoir, fellows." but an inspection of the concrete water-container showed nothing wrong there. the sparkling fluid, so necessary for the cattle, and so vital to diamond x second, was spurting from the pipe freely. "guess they're only trying to bluff us!" was dick's opinion. "maybe," assented his cousin. "but, all the same, i'd like to know who was in our camp last night. if this thing is going to keep up we'll have to mount guard." "that wouldn't be a bad idea," declared nort. "i don't like to go to bed so early, anyhow." "you'll be glad enough to turn in after we get into the swing of things here, branding cattle, shipping 'em off and all that," said bud. "but let's take a look around after we get this bunch off." and when yellin' kid, with another cowboy sent by mr. merkel to help bud in getting the steers to the railroad station, had departed with the shipment, the boy ranchers, old billee and buck tooth made a careful examination in the vicinity of the tents. of course, with so many who really belonged in the camp, tramping around it, there was little likelihood of an alien foot being discovered. nevertheless, bud hoped for something of this sort. but it was not to be. no trace of the midnight intruder, who had left the ominous warning, was discovered. and yet he had come and gone--had even penetrated to the tent where the boys were sleeping. "it's either bluff, or it means something," declared bud, as they assembled for lunch. "and if it isn't bluff, but a _fight_, hank fisher and del pinzo will find we can stick to our guns as well as they!" "you said it!" cried nort. "del pinzo didn't stay long in jail; did he?" asked dick, for, following the discovery of the triceratops and the capture of the cattle rustlers, as detailed in the first volume, the mexican halfbreed had been arrested. "no, he managed to get out, and, by some hook or crook, he still manages to escape arrest," bud answered. for some time it appeared that the two warnings were only "bluffs." no sign came from the unknown, and no trace was seen of hank fisher, del pinzo or any of the unprincipled gang which had made so much trouble the previous year for the diamond x outfit. nor did the water coming under snake mountain show any signs of giving out. day after day it ran its limpid stream, furnishing drink for man and beast, and enabling grass to grow where it had never grown before. "some day i'm going to rig up a turbine wheel and attach a dynamo to it, so we can have electric light here," declared bud. "that'll be great!" exclaimed dick. the first shipment of cattle had been safely gotten off from flume valley, and brought a good price. this money did not all come to the boy ranchers, however, as mr. merkel had insisted on a strict business deal; and he was to be paid for his share of the stock he supplied bud from the first money coming in. later the boys would get their profits--if there were any. but the first lot of steers had been sent away, bringing a higher price than usual because of their prime condition, attributed, so bud said, to the finer quality of grass, and it looked as if the boy ranchers might make a success of their first venture. "even discounting the black rabbit and the warnings out of the air," said bud. it was, then, with somewhat of an ominous feeling that, one morning, as the boys and their cowboy friends were at breakfast, they saw a rider hastening toward them along the trail that led from diamond x. "it's snake purdee!" exclaimed yellin' kid, when the rider had approached near enough to be recognized. "an' he's ridin' like he had suthin' on his mind!" added old billee. "i hope that black rabbit----" he murmured, and then his voice trailed off into a whisper as yellin' kid surreptitiously kicked him under the packing-box table. "don't scare th' boys!" whispered yellin' kid in explanation, as snake purdee galloped nearer. the rider flung himself from his pony, which came to a sliding stop near the camp tents, and, looking first at the boy ranchers, and then at the big, peaceful valley stretching out before him, remarked: "yes, there's plenty of room here!" "for what?" asked bud. "more cattle!" answered snake purdee. "there's been trouble over at square m, fellows!" "trouble?" exclaimed the boy ranchers in chorus. "what kind?" "bad trouble," was the reply. "call your father up on th' 'phone, bud," he added. "he wants t' talk t' you. yes," he went on, musingly, as bud hastened in to the telephone, "there's bad trouble at square m!" chapter vii doubling up nort and dick looked at each other as bud slipped into the tent where the telephone had been installed. snake purdee strode over to the water pail, and took a long drink. "that's good stuff!" he remarked with a sigh of satisfaction, and then he led his pony to the trough, into which the thirsty animal dipped his muzzle deeply. "mighty good water!" "an' i hope nothing happens to it," voiced old billee. "happens! what d'yo' mean?" questioned the bearer of bad tidings. "the water's here, ain't it?" "but no tellin' how long it'll run," added the veteran cowpuncher. "a black rabbit run across bud's path the day he was ridin' to meet nort and dick, and ever since then----" "do you mean t' tell me you still believe in that old superstition?" laughed snake purdee, who had acquired this name because of his exceeding fear of rattlers and other reptiles. he had been bitten once, he declared, and had nearly died. "there's more'n superstition!" declared old billee. "look at that!" and he brought out the board warning, and related the incident of the mysterious disappearance of the water, and its equally strange reappearance. "oh, it's just one of those freaks of the old, underground river course," said snake. "of course i wouldn't put much past hank fisher and del pinzo, but if either of them sent these warnings it was t' play a joke, an' scare our boy ranchers. guess hank's jealous!" laughed snake. "but what has happened over at square m?" asked dick. "has hank or del pinzo anything to do with that?" nort wanted to know. "i don't see how they could," spoke snake. "it's just that----" but at this moment bud came out of the tent, having finished his telephonic talk with his father. "there's an epidemic of disease at dad's square m ranch," bud explained to his cousins and the others. "it's so bad that a lot of the steers have already died, and dad is going to take off the rest of the stock before they catch the trouble. some he's going to put at triangle b, some at diamond x and some he's going to haze over to us. we'll have to double up, fellows," he told nort and dick. "i guess dad is glad he's got flume valley now. it may save him a lot of money that otherwise he'd lose." "got t' double up, eh?" murmured old billee dobb. "how many head's he goin' t' send here, bud?" "about five hundred he told me. they'll be stock that hasn't been near the infected cattle," he went on, "so there won't be any danger to our herds." "can we look after five hundred more steers?" asked nort. "oh, i'm comin' to help you," offered snake. "i forgot t' say that i was going t' move into one of your _flats_," and he waved his hand toward where the white tents made an attractive camp. "didn't bring my duffle bag," he added, "but one of th' boys is going t' ride over this evening with his 'n' mine." "is some one else coming?" bud wanted to know. "if we double up too much we'll need more grub." "your dad told me t' tell you he'd send some," went on snake. "yep, a new ranch hand is due t' arrive this evenin'. he's a wonder with th' gun an' rope, t' hear him tell it!" chuckled snake. "one of them fly boys?" asked old billee, mildly, with a gleam of light in his eyes, however. "will his heels need clippin', snake?" "might," was the brief answer. "but now you know th' worst. there's trouble at square m, an' you'll have to double up with cow punchers an' stock, bud." "i don't mind," said the boy rancher. "dad says he'll split the profits with me, and that's what we're looking for--to make a success of flume valley ranch. we'll do it, too!" he asserted confidently. "if th' water holds out, an' no more black rabbits don't throw you," murmured old billee dobb. "shucks!" laughed bud, but the day was to come when he recalled the old cowboy's ominous warning. "it's queer, though," said bud that evening, when they were gathered around the camp fire, discussing the coming of the cattle from square m, which were to arrive the following day, or the one after that. "it's queer what made that disease break out so suddenly among dad's steers. there aren't any cases of it at double z; are there?" he asked snake. "and fisher's place is the next one nearest ours." "no, i don't recall hearin' that hank's stock is sufferin' any," the cowboy admitted. "but square m is hard hit. it's a disease the government experts are tryin' t' find a remedy for. been experimentin' with all sorts of serums, germs an' th' like, i understand." "is it a germ disease?" asked nort. "that's what they call it," the cowboy asserted. "it can be given easy, from one steer to another, just by rubbin' horns, so t' speak. or the trouble may break out sudden in a herd, if th' germ gets loose in 'em." "that's all bosh!" declared pocut pete, the new cowboy who had arrived just about grub time, with his own outfit and that of snake purdee, who had ridden over "light." "what's bosh?" asked old billee. "the idea that this disease is spread by germs, or 'bugs,' as some folks call 'em. i think the cattle get poisoned by eating some weed, same as lots of 'em get locoed." "well, maybe," agreed bud. "anyhow, we got good feed here, and plenty of water for dad's cattle, as well as ours. we can double up as well as not. now i wonder if we have blankets enough for you two?" and he looked at snake and pocut, who said his name had been given him as he had "punched" cows so long in the vicinity of the pocut river. "oh, we'll make out," asserted snake, who was easily suited. but bud, being the nominal head of the camp, would leave nothing to chance. while some of the others were still about the flickering camp fire, talking of the trouble at square m, the strange disappearance of the water and kindred topics, the boy rancher went to inspect the tent where the older cowboys were to pass the night. it was fitted with cots enough, and one to spare, but bud wanted to make sure of the blankets. for it gets cold at night on the western plains on even very hot days. as bud entered the tent he saw, in the dim light of a turned-down lantern, a figure sitting on one of the cots. "that you, snake?" bud asked. "no, it's me," answered the voice of the new cowboy, pocut pete. "oh," remarked the lad, and as the other arose bud caught the tinkle of glass. for a moment an ugly suspicion entered bud's mind, but when his nostrils did not catch the smell of liquor, which was strictly forbidden on all mr. merkel's ranches, bud felt a sense of relief. pocut pete passed out, after bud had assured himself that there were blankets enough, and as the boy rancher was leaving the tent, he trod on something that broke, with a grating sound, under his foot. chapter viii dry again "what the mischief's that?" exclaimed bud, as he unhooked the lantern from the tent pole and swung it toward the ground where he had set his foot. "has nort or dick lost their bottle of paregoric?" and he chuckled as he recalled what use his cousins had made of that baby-pacifier when they had been captured at the camp of the professors, as related in the book prior to this. "it _is_ a bottle, and i stepped on it and smashed it," went on bud, as he saw the shining particles of thin glass. "that new cowboy, pocut pete, must have dropped it. hope it wasn't any medicine he needed. smells mighty queer, though!" and bud sniffed the air. "i hope he isn't one of those 'dope fiends,'" and again a feeling of apprehension passed over him. bud picked up one of the largest pieces of the crushed glass bottle. the little phial appeared to have been filled with a sticky, yellowish substance, and the odor was not pleasant. "whew!" exclaimed bud as he caught a strong whiff of it. "i wouldn't want to have to take any of _that_ for medicine. guess i'll ask snake what he knows of pocut pete before i make any inquiries on my own hook. and i'll tell him he'd better bury this glass if he doesn't want to cut his own feet, or that of the others." "bunks all right?" asked old billee dobb, as bud emerged from the tent. "all ready to turn in," was the answer. "which i'm going to do dark an' early," declared the old cowboy. "i have the late watch t'-night." for it had been decided, with the coming of the additional steers from square m, that it would be necessary to ride herd, as so many cattle in a bunch might engender a stampede. and at old billee's suggestion the night-riding was to start then, to break them in, so to speak. bud saw pocut pete standing by himself at the cook tent, buck tooth having been induced to open some cans of peaches, a form of fruit much in favor on western ranches where the fresh variety is unobtainable. "you'd better clean up that glass you left in the bunk tent," bud remarked in a low voice. "what glass?" sharply demanded the other, and there was in his voice a note of defiance, the boy thought. "the glass bottle you dropped, and i stepped on," bud resumed, for he did not hesitate to give orders in his own camp. "i didn't drop any bottle!" declared pocut pete. "well, some one did, and i smashed it," asserted bud. "if you don't want to cut your feet you'd better bury it," and he hurried off to wash from his hands some of the unpleasant-smelling mixture that had clung to them. "i sleep with my boots on," said pocut pete. "but i'll tell the rest of 'em to be careful." "it would be better," bud flung back over his shoulder. it was late next day when cowboys from square m arrived, slowly driving before them the cattle that were to be doubled up with those which bud, nort and dick considered specially their own. "what's the situation over there now?" bud asked one of the punchers, who looked tired and weary, for the trail had been long and dry, as evidenced by the eager manner in which the steers rushed for water. "pretty bad," was the answer. "this disease, whatever it is, seems to kill off mighty quick. i don't know how many your dad has lost, but i guess now, what with those we've brought here and them sent to diamond x and triangle b, that we'll get the best of the trouble. gosh! you got a nice place here!" he added admiringly. "yes, it's pretty good," bud agreed. "bringing the water over from pocut river made all the difference in the world." "you got out a lungful that time!" asserted another of the cowboys who had helped "haze" over the steers that were transferred to save them from infection. the visiting cowboys departed next day, leaving their animals mingled with those in which bud, nort and dick had an interest. the doubled-up herd was not too large but what there was plenty of feed and water in flume valley. during the days that followed, matters at diamond x second, as bud sometimes called his ranch camp, adjusted themselves smoothly. there was no further sign, or evidence, of mysterious warnings. the cattle throve, and those from square m, which were not in as good physical condition as the animals that had been longer in the green valley, began to "pick up" and fatten. "i tell you what, fellows!" boasted bud to his cousins, "dad'll be wishing he'd kept this ranch for himself! we'll beat him at his own game!" "it would be a big stunt if we could, not taking advantage of his bad luck at square m, though," spoke nort. "well, you have to count on bad luck in this business," remarked bud. "not that black rabbits have anything to do with it," he laughed, as he looked at old billee. bud and his cousins were returning, one hot afternoon, from having ridden to a distant part of the valley, where snake purdee had reported he had found a calf killed. there was a suspicion that rustlers had been at work, but bud decided the animal had been separated from its mother and the main herd, and had been pulled down by coyotes. "what's that?" asked nort, when they were within sight of the camp with its reservoir in the background. "what's what?" asked bud, who pulled his pony aside quickly, to escape a prairie dog's burrow. "looks like old billee waving his hat for us to hit up the pace," spoke dick. "it is!" asserted bud, after gazing beneath his hands held in front of his eyes as a sun-shield. "i hope nothing's wrong!" but when they had ridden up, the old cowboy riding out to meet them, it was made plain, in a moment, that something had occurred out of the ordinary. old billee dobb was much excited. his eyes blazed and snapped and he shook the reins in addition to mildly spurring on his pony. "more mysterious warnings?" asked bud. "worse'n that," was the answer. "she's dry ag'in!" "the pipe line?" asked dick. "you hit it!" cried the other. "water's stopped runnin' ag'in, bud!" "whew!" whistled the boy rancher. "and with a double lot of stock on hand, too! this _is_ bad!" chapter ix a shot in the night wheeling his pony, old billee rode back with the boy ranchers, until they reached the bottom of the reservoir wall. then, dismounting, bud, nort and dick scrambled up the earth slope on one side until they could look into the storage tank, and at the pipe which, connecting with the old underground water-course, kept the reservoir filled. "she isn't spouting!" said bud, in blank disappointment. "just a dribble," added nort, mournfully. "and if it does as it did before that'll stop in a little while," remarked dick. "when did it start to stop?" asked bud, unconscious of the double meaning of his words. "about an hour ago," old billee answered. "i happened t' notice it when i come up here t' try for a fish." "fish!" cried nort. "can you get any fish _here_?" "sartin sure!" asserted the old cowboy. "they come in from th' river, under th' mountain, though how they like the dark i can't say, an' they come out of this pipe. i've caught many a good one." the eastern lads looked to bud for confirmation, and their cousin, nodded, rather gloomily, though. "yes," said bud, "fish do come through the pipe. but if we don't get any more water they'll all die off soon." "maybe the water will come back--as it did before," asserted dick. bud did not answer. he appeared to be figuring out something on the back of an old envelope with the stub of a pencil. "we'll have enough for a week, i think," finally announced the boy rancher. "then, if the water doesn't come back, we'll have to drive all the stock over to diamond x. can't take a chance letting 'em die of thirst here, even if they didn't stampede, which they'd be sure to do." two things are vitally necessary on a ranch--grass and water for the stock. of grass there was plenty in flume valley, and, had the stream continued to come through the pipe, there would have been a goodly supply of water, even for the extra stock added from square m. but when no fluid spurted from the mouth of the black pipe, the other end being hidden in the opening of the natural water course, it spelled ruin for diamond x second. "i wonder--i just wonder--if this has anything to do with the threat we received?" mused bud, as he and his cousins went down the slope to the little table of land where the tents were pitched. "granting that it has, who sent the warning?" asked nort. "who else but the man who doesn't want to see any water diverted from pocut river?" asked bud, in turn. "i mean hank fisher, and the gang he trails along with! if anyone stopped this water, he did!" "but how?" asked yellin' kid, who had strolled up to take part in the general conversation. "he couldn't do it at th' river end of th' pipe, without bein' found out, and he hasn't been around _here_, i'll gamble on that--not since we started keepin' watch at night." "no, he hasn't been here," admitted bud, slowly. "it sure is a puzzle. well, let's have grub, and talk about it later. it may come back. if it doesn't we have enough for a week--maybe longer." it was drinking water for the cattle that was mostly needed, since the occasional, slight rainfall was now sufficient to provide for the grass, though some water was used to irrigate certain sections that would be called "meadows" in the east. this drinking water was conducted to distant troughs by pipes running from the reservoir, the pipes being controlled by means of valves, or water gates. had there been natural water-holes in flume valley it would, long ago, have been used as a place to raise cattle. but it was the absence of drinking places that caused it to be passed by, until, by artificial means, tapping the river through the underground course, mr. merkel had enabled his son and nephews to become boy ranchers in earnest. as bud had stated, there was about a week's supply on reserve in the concrete reservoir. when that was exhausted, unless the water again started flowing through the pipe, the cattle would suffer from thirst. "well, she isn't spouting any," mournfully remarked nort, as, with his brother and bud, he ascended the slope, standing on the edge of the reservoir. "no," agreed bud. "she's as dry as an old buffalo skull now. i don't know what to do!" the shadows of dusk were falling, and the boys felt that the night was coming with its gloom to match their own feelings. failure seemed to stare them in the face. "but i don't see how anyone--granting that somebody like hank fisher or del pinzo has it in for us--can shut off the water without operating at either end of the flume!" exclaimed nort. "that is queer," agreed bud. "i wonder what's inside that tunnel where the old watercourse runs? i've been through it, but couldn't see much of anything. i've a good notion----" he broke off his remarks to gaze intently ahead. there was a movement in the gloom, and a figure walked away. "who's there?" asked bud sharply, his hand slipping to his . . "it's me," came quickly, if not grammatically, from pocut pete, whose voice the boys recognized. "i just moseyed up here t' see if she was runnin'." "well, she isn't," spoke bud, a bit shortly. "so i see," came the drawling answer, and it was followed by a faint tinkling of glass. bud started, and tried to pierce the night shadows. but all he saw was the figure of the strange cowboy becoming more and more indistinct. bud was just going to say something when he was halted by the voice of nort. "i have an idea!" exclaimed the eastern lad. "what is it?" asked his brother. "anything to do with this?" and he waved toward the reservoir which was strangely still, now that the water no longer bubbled into it from the pipe. "yes," went on nort. "why not investigate and see where the stoppage is, bud?" "investigate what?" "the pipe line--the old underground water-course." "you mean go through the tunnel?" bud asked. "sure! why not? you say it's big enough all the way through, and the water itself doesn't occupy much of the bottom. we could walk it in a day, easy!" "yes," agreed bud, "it isn't more than five miles, though we'd have to carry lanterns, and we might get lost in some side passage." "that's just what i want to find out about!" cried nort. "if there _is_ a branch passage maybe that's where the water goes! come on, bud, let's go through the tunnel!" "i'm with you!" said dick. for a moment bud hesitated and then, as he was about to reply, there came the sudden sound of a shot, which shattered the night with a sliver of flame, plainly visible to the boys. instantly a band of coyotes set up their weird howling, and the startled steers lowed and bellowed as they rushed about. chapter x into the tunnel "what's that?" cried bud. "who's there?" demanded nort. the hand of dick went toward the . he wore in a holster at his belt, and, it might be added, the hands of the others did also. "keep your shirts on," came the somewhat drawling voice of pocut pete, who, it seemed, had returned after shuffling off in the darkness. "i just winged a coyote." "oh," murmured bud. "you were shooting at them, were you?" he asked. "not exactly," answered pocut pete, as he sauntered up out of the gloom. "i saw something movin' down among th' cattle, an' i knew it couldn't be any of you fellows, so i let go at him." "_him!_" cried nort. "was it a man?" "looked like one," drawled pete. "i heard you'd had trouble with rustlers before i came, so i wasn't takin' any chances. i didn't aim t' hit him, though, only t' scare him, an' i must have winged one of them night-owls!" he chuckled at this characterization of the coyotes. "let's take a look down there," suggested bud to his cousins, their worried interest in the stoppage of the water momentarily eclipsed by the new excitement. "oh, you won't find anyone down there _now_!" pocut pete made haste to say. "if it was a rustler he's far enough off by _this_ time, an' i'm not positive i really saw one--it was so dark." "it won't do any harm to take a look," declared bud, and his cousins were of the same opinion. "suit yourself," spoke pete, easily. "if i did hit him let me know." again he moved off in the darkness, and the boy ranchers, after a moment of hesitation, started in the direction whence the shot had been heard and the sliver of flame seen. pocut pete had gone on the opposite trail after returning to the boys, a fact which caused dick to remark: "wouldn't you think he'd want to see if he did wing anybody?" "he knows well enough he didn't," declared bud in a low voice, for he and the others realized that sounds, especially voices, carried almost as clearly in the night air as across a body of water. "what made him talk that way then?" asked nort. "oh, he's--queer, i guess," replied bud. "i don't exactly just like the way he acts. did you fellows hear the tinkle of glass just before that shot?" "i did," answered nort, but dick was not so sure. "what do you make of it?" nort wanted to know. "wish i knew," spoke bud, and then he told them about having found the small, thin, broken phial of dubious-smelling mixture in the bunk tent of the older cowboys. "do you think he takes 'dope,' or medicine of some sort?" asked dick. "it's hard to say," was bud's reply. "but let's look around and see what we can find." their search was unrewarded, however. the cattle quieted down after the shot, and the coyotes only occasionally gave vent to their blood-curdling yells. but as for finding anyone who had been shot--including even a miserable coyote--there was not a sign. "guess pete didn't wing anybody after all," mused dick, as he and his chums turned back toward the camp. "i never s'posed he did," grunted bud. "he's a four-flusher, that fellow is, in my opinion. i wish dad had sent me somebody else." "he's a good cowboy," defended nort. "yes, but i don't feel that i can trust him. i'd rather have one like old billee, slow as he is, than two pocut pete chaps," grumbled the boy rancher. "but we've got other worries besides him, fellows! what are we going to do for water, now that we have a double supply of cattle at our ranch? that's what's worrying me!" "it's enough to worry anyone," dick agreed. "maybe the water will come back, bud." "i hope it does," added nort. "we'll take a stroll through that tunnel--it's the only way to find out what's wrong," decided bud. "talk about black rabbits! i begin to think old billee was more right than wrong!" "but your bad luck, so far, isn't as bad as your father's in losing cattle from disease," remarked nort. "no, and i hope that the epidemic doesn't break out here at diamond x second," went on bud. "if it starts, and we don't get the water back, we may as well give up!" he was plainly discouraged, and no wonder. he was young, and it was his first experience as a rancher "on his own." nort and dick, too, were a little down-hearted. "but maybe things will look better to-morrow," suggested nort, as they turned in for the night, having discovered nothing alarming in the direction where pocut pete had shot. "maybe," half-heartedly assented bud. but there was no water coming through the reservoir end of the tunnel pipe when the sun shone again, and, after breakfast, the boy ranchers prepared to explore the dark cave-like opening which extended under the mountain. "i hope we can turn it on," said bud, and he looked at the concrete basin of water, trying to calculate how much longer it would last if the supply were not replenished. already it was lower than it had been the night before, for the cattle had drunk freely during the darkness. lanterns were gotten ready, a supply of grub packed, weapons were looked to (for who knew what beast might not lurk in the tunnel?) and at last the boy ranchers were ready to start. "good luck!" wished yellin' kid as the little party started for the mouth of the tunnel. "thanks," chorused nort, dick and bud. then they entered the black opening. if you will imagine a hillside, with a hole, or tunnel, about ten feet high and as broad, but of irregular shape, opening into it, and on the bottom, or floor, a two-foot iron pipe out of which, at normal times, ran a stream of water, you will have a good idea of the place into which our young heroes were to enter. the tunnel extended all the way through snake mountain, curving this way and that, as a brook curves its way through a meadow. in fact the tunnel had been made, centuries ago, by a stream forcing its way through the soft parts of the mountain, and it was this old, hidden, underground stream-way of which mr. merkel had taken advantage to bring water to flume valley. the stream flowed along the bottom of the tunnel course, leaving room on either side for persons to walk, as they might walk along the banks of a stream in the open. the underground river was not more than four feet wide, and about the same in average depth, but in places it flowed with a very powerful current. "whew! it's black as tar here!" exclaimed dick, as they walked in past the pipe, and found themselves in the tunnel proper. "as bad as the hole of calcutta," added nort, who had read that grim story of the sepoy rebellion in india. "do you want to back out?" asked bud, swinging his lantern so that it cast flickering shadows on the place where water had flowed, but where there was none now. "back out!" cried nort. "i should say not! lead on, macduff!" and they started off in the blackness of the tunnel, with only the faint gleams of the lanterns to illuminate their way. what would they find? chapter xi the rush of waters echoes of the footsteps of the boy ranchers sounded and resounded as they tramped along the now dry water-course of what had, only a day before, been a life-giving stream of water. the rocky and roughly-vaulted roof overhead gave back the noises like the soundbox of a phonograph, and the lads had to speak loudly, in places, to make their voices carry above the echoes. these places were spots where the vaulted roof of the tunnel was higher than usual. they had walked on, the semi-circular spot of light at the entrance near the black pipe growing more and more faint, until it was not at all visible. "there she goes!" exclaimed dick, looking back. "what?" asked his brother. "the last gleam of daylight," was the answer. "if anything happens to our lanterns, so that they go out, and we get mixed up in some branch passages--good night! that's all i have to say!" and dick was very emphatic in this. "by zip foster!" exclaimed bud, using that expression for the first time in several days. "you're a cheerful chap to have along on a picnic like this, dick! not!" "well, might as well prepare for the worst and hope for the best," laughed dick, while nort inquired: "why don't you tell us more about zip foster?" "oh--you--say, did you hear anything then?" asked bud, and his voice had in it such a note of anxiety that his companions did not, at the time, imagine he might have been putting them off from a much-wanted and often-delayed explanation of this mysterious zip foster personage. "hear what!" asked dick. "something like water running," replied bud. "i have a notion that our stream--i call it ours for it doesn't seem to belong to anyone else--our stream may just trickle off, now and then, into some other underground course." "maybe it does," agreed dick. "but i don't hear any water running." "nor i," added his brother. "maybe i was mistaken," bud admitted. "but i sure would like to come across that missing water of mine!" he little realized, nor did the others, what fruit his wish was to bear, and that very shortly. "i guess what you heard was the echoes," spoke dick. "i never heard so many queer noises." "it's like the cave of the winds," murmured nort. "but it's a great adventure all the same, bud! i mean it would be great if we didn't have to worry about the water not coming back," he made haste to add, for he realized what it would mean to their new ranch in flume valley if no drink could be had for the cattle. "it beats the finding of the triceratops all to slathers!" exclaimed dick, "and that was no slouch of a happening, either." "yes, no telling what's ahead of us," spoke bud, as he walked along, unsteadily enough for the way was rough and filled with stones. and, as the boys tramped along in the tunnel, part of the time in the very bed of the stream that had gone dry, their lanterns cast fantastic shadows on the rocky walls. i have said that the stream was dry, but this was not strictly true, for in places, where the uneven bed formed depressions, there were pools of water. and, in some places, there were even little rills trickling along. but they never would reach the iron pipe that discharged into the reservoir. on and on tramped the boys, pausing, now and then, to hold up their lanterns and inspect the rocky walls of the underground tunnel which echoed so strangely to their footsteps, and through which swept strange, cold and clammy winds. "well, i reckon we'll have to go all the way to the end before we discover anything, if we do find it," said bud, when they had walked on for over an hour. their pace was slow because of the uneven footing. "and when we get to the other end and find the water running into the pipe at the dam in pocut river, what then?" asked nort. "we'll hardly find that, i think," said bud. "or, i mean, we won't have to go all the way to the other end if the water is found running there." "why not?" asked dick. "because, if the water's running in from the dam end of the pipe, we'll meet the stream before we get all the way through the tunnel," bud explained. "i meant to call up on the telephone and find out if everything was all right at the river end before we started out, but i forgot. my theory is that the stream gets into this tunnel from the river all right, but is shunted off before it reaches us," he added. "how shunted?" dick wanted to know. "that's what i can't tell," spoke bud. "but why try to puzzle this out until we get something better to work on? i'm hungry! what do you say that we eat?" "suits me," agreed nort. "i'm not going to vote in the negative," asserted dick. they judged that they were about a quarter way through the mysterious tunnel now, and, setting down the lanterns on the rocky floor, the boy ranchers took out the food they had brought with them. it would be risky to kindle a fire in that enclosed place, bud decided, as the smoke might choke them, though so far they had found an abundance of fresh air, a current blowing part of the time in their faces, and part of the time in the opposite direction. this proved that there was a good draft in the elongated cave, but it was voted best not to take any chances, though there was plenty of dried driftwood on the tunnel floor, and this could have been used for a blaze. but the boys sat about in the gleam of their lanterns, and, while they ate the sandwiches they had brought, they talked of the strange happenings that had led up to this venture in which they were now joined. suddenly bud, who had just taken up a piece of fruit cake, part of a chunk that his pretty sister nell had sent over from the main ranch house a day or so before, stopped chewing in order to listen better; for, as you doubtless know, the action of the jaws precludes keen attention to outside sounds. "what's the matter?" asked dick, noting his cousin's act. "i heard something," bud answered. "i'm hearing things all the while!" declared dick. "this is the most weird place for mysterious noises i ever struck!" "but this is different," insisted bud. "listen!" nort and dick stopped chewing and strained their ears to catch the sound that had attracted bud's attention. a strange, rushing, whispering echo seemed to fill the tunnel. "doesn't that sound like rushing water?" asked bud. "yes," agreed dick, after a moment of intentness; "it does." "look out!" quickly yelled nort. "it _is_ water, and on the rush, too! jump for your lives! it's a flood!" and making a grab for one of the lanterns, that they might not be left in total blackness, he sprang toward the rocky side of the tunnel, an example followed by his companions. and the rush of waters filled the underground cave with a mighty, roaring sound. chapter xii the rising flood stumbling, slipping, sliding, half-falling, bruising themselves on the sharp rocks, but ever leaping forward toward the sides of the tunnel, and away from the depressed centre down which they could see the rush of waters coming, the boy ranchers at last managed to reach the granite wall. nort had succeeded in grabbing up one of the lanterns, but there was no time for dick or bud to take one, and the food had to be abandoned. "climb up! climb up, if there's a ledge!" shouted bud. "we'll be drowned if we can't get above the water!" he had, somehow or other, brought up in the rear. though he did not admit it, this was because he had shoved his cousins ahead of him, hoping thus to enable them to gain a safe place. and as nort and dick glanced back they saw, in the gleam of the one lantern left alight, a white mass of water bearing down on them, and, seemingly, filling the tunnel from wall to wall, as it rushed foaming and murmuring onward. it was as though a dam had suddenly burst, or some obstruction had been removed, allowing the pent-up waters to rush along the accustomed channel. and if you have ever noticed a dammed-up stream, say in some gutter, thus quickly released, you can imagine what happened on a larger scale in the tunnel where the boys were. the water, normally, flowed only in the four-foot channel. but now it spread out on either side, and, of course, was much deeper in the centre. but as the tunnel sloped from either wall, in a sort of v shape to the centre channel, naturally the parts nearest the side walls were less covered by water than the others. it was because of this that bud, nort and dick were enabled to maintain a footing, though they were knee-deep in water in an instant, and the one remaining lantern had to be held up to prevent it from being engulfed and extinguished in the sudden flood. "climb up! climb up!" shouted bud. "isn't there some place--some rocky ledge--where you can find a footing? the water's getting deeper!" and this was true. either the flood was growing at its source (a place as yet unknown to the boys) or it was running too rapidly, and in too great a volume, to accommodate itself to the tunnel channel, and was thus piling up in the vicinity of the boys. "what happened? what caused it?" cried nort. "never mind that--now!" shouted bud. "find the highest place you can, and stick!" "suppose the whole tunnel fills?" asked dick, trying to pierce the semi-gloom, and look for a refuge on the rocky wall. "if it does we'll have to swim for it," grimly said bud. "but isn't there some place where you can climb up?" "this looks like a ledge," dick answered, as he caught sight of a darker shadow on the rocky wall of the tunnel, above his head, when his brother swung the lantern. "just what we need!" exclaimed bud, as he waded through the ever-deepening water to the side of his cousins. "up with you! here, nort, i'll hold the lantern until you make it!" thus, again, bud was seeing that his cousins reached a place of comparative safety before he looked to himself. for they found the ledge, once they had scrambled up to it, well above the water, and wide enough to give shelter and a safe perch for all three. "whew! that was touch and go!" murmured bud, as he leaned back, half exhausted, against the rocky wall at the rear of the ledge. "i should say so!" gasped dick. "it all happened so suddenly that i don't know yet what it was all about." "the stream suddenly started flowing again," spoke bud. "that's all there was to it. must have been dammed up some place, and suddenly released. it's still rising, too," he added, as he leaned forward and held the lantern down over the ledge where he and his cousins had taken refuge. "rising?" sharply inquired nort, and there was a tone of anxiety in his voice. "yes," remarked bud, as he swung the lantern to and fro. "we didn't get up here any too soon, fellows! look, the water would be up to our waists down there now, in the most shallow place, and it's got speed like one of christy mathewson's curves!" his cousins could see that he had not exaggerated the matter. the waters were rising. inch by inch, and foot by foot, the flood was approaching the crest. where the boy ranchers had sat in the almost dry bed of the stream, to eat their lunch, there was now a mad race of swirling waters. where they had stood, before climbing up to the ledge of safety, there was now three feet depth of water. and, as bud had said, it was flowing along so swiftly, like the stream which turns a mill-wheel, that the boys could hardly have been able to keep their feet had they been down in the current, or even on the weakest edge of it. but, as they were, they were safe for the time being. how long that would be the case none could tell. they could see, in the gleam of the one lantern saved in the mad rush, that the stream was coursing along as it had never coursed before. "there must be a powerful lot of water coming out of the reservoir pipe," nort remarked. "biggest ever, with all this water behind forcing it out," agreed bud. "i hope the pipe holds." "it isn't as if the pipe were the only outlet," said dick. "you know the water can flow out of the tunnel above, and on either side of the conduit." "yes," agreed bud, "and dad had it put in that way on purpose, so if ever a big flood did come, the tunnel could relieve itself without ripping away the pipe and reservoir. there's a sort of spillway at one side of the reservoir, you know." the boys from the east had noticed this. up to now no water had run off through this auxiliary channel, but it was there for emergencies such as now had occurred. and the water could find a vent and outlet down the middle of flume valley, as, indeed, the surplus from the reservoir itself did, when there was any. "well, it sure is queer, and we had a mighty narrow escape," remarked nort, as bud leaned back again with the lantern. "but the fellows back at the camp will be scared." "i reckon they will," admitted bud. "they'll see the water spouting out, in a greater volume than ever before, and they'll imagine all sorts of things have happened to us." "well, nothing has happened yet--except we've lost two perfectly good lanterns, and what grub we didn't eat," asserted nort. "but something else may happen," said bud in a low voice, as, once more, he leaned forward, and again held the lantern over the edge of the rocky ledge. "what?" dick wanted to know. "look," was what bud replied. and his cousins, glancing down, saw that the waters were rising, rising, rising! when would they stop? chapter xiii where did it go? pressing back toward the rocky ledge, against which they leaned, gazing with fearsome eyes at the rising waters, on which the lantern-light shone fitfully, and almost holding their breaths at times, so great was the strain, the boy ranchers waited--for what they scarcely knew. and yet they did, in a measure. for they waited to see if the waters would stop rising, a happening, as they well knew, which, alone, could save their lives. as one of them had remarked, they might have to swim for it. but, looking at the foaming current, dashing along over jagged rocks on which the boys had more than once stumbled, they knew what a risk that effort to escape would bring. and should the water fill the whole tunnel they would have no earthly chance! for only a fish can exist in a hose or pipe completely filled with water, and that is what the tunnel would become if the water rose to the roof--merely a great, underground rocky pipe for the conveying of the liquid from pocut river. so you can easily imagine with what anxiety bud, nort and dick watched the rising water. every now and again one of them would lean over the ledge, swinging the lantern to and fro, so its gleams would be reflected in the hurrying, foaming stream, and indicate how fast it was rising. at first the rate of rise had been rapid. but as the boys, again and again, made observations in the semi-gloom bud, at length, uttered a joyful cry. "look!" he shouted, pointing with trembling finger at the foamy flood close, now, to the top of the ledge. "look!" "what--a big fish?" asked dick. "fish nothing!" retorted his cousin. "but the water is going down! look, it isn't as high as it was. i can see a wet mark where it came up to, and it's two inches below that now! the flood is going down!" "are you sure?" asked nort, eagerly. "look for yourselves!" invited bud, handing over the lantern. nort's observation was confirmatory of his cousin's. "she _is_ going down!" remarked nort. "and just in time, too!" how truly he spoke was evidenced by that fact that another inch of rise would have sent the flood over the ledge on which the boys rested! so narrow had been their escape! "if she only doesn't begin to rise again, after she starts going down--as you say she is--we'll be all right," said dick. "but if she comes up----" he did not finish what he started to say, but his companions knew what he meant, and they looked each other in the face with grave apprehensions. "the question is now," went on bud, as he again took an observation and noted that the flood was still on the descent, "how long we shall have to stay here." "if it's too long we'll be wanting some of that grub which was washed away," asserted diet. "in fact i dropped a sandwich half eaten." "same here," remarked his brother. "but let's hope that it will go down as suddenly as it came up." that was all they could do--hope; but it bore fruits, for in about an hour, as they ascertained by glances at their watches, the flood was almost down to the normal channel of the underground stream. "and if it will only stay there we can venture to keep on to the other end of the tunnel," spoke bud. "will you do that?" dick wanted to know. "why not?" asked bud. "we want to see what happened, and where this water goes to when it disappears so suddenly; don't we?" "yes," agreed dick. "but i thought, after our escape, that we had better head back for camp." "it's about six of one and half a dozen of the other," asserted bud. "we're almost half way through the tunnel, now, and we might as well keep on. i'd like to solve this mystery, and we can't if we call it off now." "that's right," assented nort. "we don't run any more danger going on to the river end of the tunnel than we would in going back to the camp end. that is unless we discover a big cavern, or hole through to china, in the other end of the tunnel. even then we might be able to skirt around it." "let's go on!" suggested bud, as he prepared to climb down off the ledge. "this thing has my goat!" "speaking of goats is most appropriate on a cattle ranch," laughed nort, and the spirits of all the lads were lighter now. "but let's keep on to the end for which we started!" this was agreed to and, after waiting a little while to make sure that the waters were not again going to rise, away started the boy ranchers. they were traveling lighter now, for they only had one lantern, and no food to carry. the remainder of the tunnel was as the first part had been--a great, uneven tube through the mountain, twisting and turning here and there, sometimes the roof being so high that it did not show in the swinging lantern-light, and again being low enough, almost, for the boys to touch. on all sides was evidence that the flood had been here, as it had been at the place where the boys took refuge. now and then they came to deep pools, which they had to skirt, and, in one case, leap over. suddenly, as they were walking along, the lantern which bud was carrying went out, leaving them in pitch blackness! "hello! what's the idea?" asked nort. "did you do it on purpose?" asked dick. "why, no, of course not!" asserted bud. "the oil must be gone, though i filled it before we started, and it ought to have burned longer than this." "whew! this is tough!" bemoaned nort. "left in the dark!" "not altogether!" exclaimed bud. "i brought some candles!" "great!" voiced nort. "light up!" which bud did, placing a short length of candle inside the lantern, by fastening it, with some grease that hardened, on top of the oil reservoir of the wick. "but i can't understand what happened to the lantern," went on bud, making an examination by means of a second candle, from the store he had, luckily, placed in his pocket. "oh, yes, i can!" he went on. "what?" asked dick. "one of the soldered seams of the lantern oil tank started, and the oil has leaked out. guess one of us must have banged it against a stone when we made the rush. but we'll be all right. a candle in the lantern is nearly as good as the regular wick." it was not quite so good, but the boys made the best of it as they tramped on through the tunnel, hoping to reach the river end without another flood, or any mishap. "the water seems to be behaving very nicely," observed nort, as they all saw that the stream was well within its rocky channel. "but what gets me," said bud, "is where it goes to--when it goes. i mean where does it disappear to? we haven't come to a single branch tunnel, or any other passage that could drain off the river water." "that's right," agreed his cousins. "but maybe we'll find it further on," suggested nort. "we'll soon know, for we must be close to the other end now," observed bud. "our candles are holding out well." they had come several miles, as they knew by the time consumed. the way through the tunnel had been uphill all the way, as it must needs be to allow the water to run down to the reservoir in flume valley. but, so far, they had seen nothing to indicate any side channel for the stream--any place that might drain off the water, and return it in such a sudden volume as to cause a flood. "i can't understand it," bud remarked as he swung the lantern to and fro. "it sure is a puzzle. where does the water disappear?" his cousins could offer no solution. all the way along they had carefully scanned the underground stream, but there appeared no break in its uneven, rocky bank in the middle of the tunnel. "well, let's keep on," suggested nort. "we aren't at the end yet, and it may be close to the intake--i mean the mysterious influence--that shuts off our water supply and turns it on again, may be there. forward, march!" he cried gaily. together they started off, having come to a momentary halt to inspect a place wider and deeper than usual, when bud suddenly came to a stop and exclaimed: "some one is coming!" chapter xiv a night attack instantly the boy ranchers came to a halt, standing there in the tunnel, beside the running water. they had nearly reached the other end of the flume, and could dimly see, ahead of them, a faint glow, which told of daylight to come. bud, who was carrying the lantern, made shift to hide it behind the bodies of himself and his cousins, so that the unknown, approaching, might not have them at a disadvantage, he being in the dark. "who you reckon it is?" asked nort. he and his brother were rapidly falling into the custom of using the picturesque if not always elegant talk of the west. nort spoke in a whisper, and bud answered in the same tone. "can't imagine who it may be," spoke the western lad, "but if it's hank, del pinzo, or any of their gang----" he did not finish, but a slight movement told that he was freeing his . in its holster, an example quickly followed by nort and dick. meanwhile the steps continued to approach, echoing loudly in the vaulted tunnel, as if the maker of them had no design to conceal his movements. in another few seconds the boys saw, looming in front of them, as displayed by the gleam of their half-hidden lantern, a bulky figure. at the same moment the figure seemed to become aware of the presence in the tunnel of others besides himself. "who's there?" came in sharp challenge. and what a relief it was to the boy ranchers when they heard that voice. "slim!" cried bud. "slim degnan!" "that you, bud?" called the foreman of diamond x ranch, as he recognized the voice of his employer's son, while bud, in turn, sensed whom the looming figure was. "sure!" bud joyously answered. "and nort and dick are here! say, what's the matter with our water? is there a stoppage at the dam?" "nary a stop, but your dad got a telephone from your side-partners at the valley camp, saying you'd started through the tunnel to see what caused the shut-off. i happened to be over near square m, seeing if i could get on the track of that cattle epidemic, and they relayed your dad's message on to me. so i hit the trail for here." "what was dad's message?" bud wanted to know. "why, he said you, and them tenderfeet---- no, i'll take _that_ back!" slim hastened to say as he recalled all that nort and dick had done. "anyhow, he said they shouldn't have allowed you to come in the tunnel alone, and he asked some of the men, from this end, to go in and see if they could locate you." "you found us," said bud. "well," resumed slim, "i just got here, heard the news and i started in. some of the others are coming, but i guess we don't need to make any search. you're here!" "and more by good luck than good management," asserted dick. "how's that?" asked slim, as they all started for the opening at the river end of the tunnel, where daylight dimly showed. "why, when we started in at the other side the stream was dry," explained bud. "there wasn't a drop coming through the pipe into the reservoir, and we left, early this morning, to see what the trouble was. when we got half way through the stream suddenly began flowing, and there was a regular flood. only that we found a ledge to climb up on, we'd been drowned!" "as bad as that!" gasped slim. "every bit!" dick asserted. "but tell me," went on bud, "did the water stop at the river end, slim? was there any stoppage at the dam or pipe?" "nary a stop, bud," slim answered. "they told me, when i started in, that the water had been flowing all night, as usual, and they didn't see why you claimed there was none at your end." "by zip foster! but there's something mighty strange here!" cried the boy rancher. "you intimated good and plenty that time!" declared slim as he and the boys reached the river end of the tunnel, where the intake pipe took the water from the pocut stream, delivering it to the tunnel. "but here's a queer part of it," went on dick, as they joined the other cowboys who were preparing to follow slim in, and search for the diamond x lads. "no such body of water, as so nearly overwhelmed us, ever came through this pipe," and he pointed to the one that tapped the dammed-up water of the river. "that's right!" agreed bud. "this thing gets worse and worse! we'll never get to the bottom of this mystery!" "you're right!" declared one of the cowboys. "when you're dealing with them underground water-courses you never know what you're up against. the old indians and spaniards who lived here hundreds of years ago had their own troubles, and maybe they wished them same troubles on to you." "what you mean?" asked slim. "that's all bosh!" "bosh nothin'!" declared another. "you read history an' you'll get lots of cases where streams showed up, and then vanished under mountains, more than once." "a heap sight you know about _hist'ry_!" laughed slim in good-natured raillery. "well, this is sure queer, anyhow!" declared bud. "is there any history of the stream that waters our valley?" he asked the cowboy who had made the assertion. "not your particular one," was the answer, "but there's lots of just such cases mentioned--hidden water-courses and all that." "well, there's something wrong," agreed bud, "and i believe there must be some place along the tunnel where our water shunts itself off at times, and turns itself on again. we were looking for just such a place." "and you didn't find it?" asked slim. "nary a find!" asserted bud. "but we aren't going to give up, just on that account!" said nort. "bet you not!" added his brother. "we'll try it again, and take a canoe with us, so if the dry water-course suddenly turns wet, we can paddle along it." "well, it seems to be all right now," spoke slim. "and you'd better 'phone your father that you're all right, bud. he'll be anxious to hear." and after mr. merkel had been assured, over the wire, of the safe transit of his son and nephews through the tunnel, the boys' camp was called up, to let old billee and the others know that no accident had happened. "gosh! i'm glad to hear that!" said the veteran cowboy over the wire. "when we see that there water come gushin' out, we thought sure you was goners, bud!" "then the water is running again?" bud asked. "absolutely!" declared billee. "you comin' back here?" "sure! but _over_ the mountain--not _under_ it." bud and his boy rancher chums remained that night at the store settlement near the dam, getting beds in what passed for a hotel. it was too late to secure horses and ride over snake mountain trail back to flume valley. while thus having a night of leisure, and seeing such sights as were to be viewed in the little town, bud and his chums discussed the queer situation of the mysteriously disappearing and reappearing water. but, talk as they did, and venture opinions as they and their cowboy friends did, no one could hit on a solution. "we'll just have to make another and more careful inspection," declared nort. "that's what!" agreed bud. they learned from slim that the situation regarding the cattle epidemic at square m ranch was not much better. all stock which had not been exposed to the infection had been removed, either to diamond x, triangle b or flume valley, and the infected steers remaining there were being treated by a veterinarian whom mr. merkel had engaged. "but they're slowly dying off," slim reported. "and i don't believe square m ranch will ever be safe to use again." "why not?" asked bud. "because there must be some infection in the grass there to have made so many of the cattle sicken and die." "maybe it was something else," suggested nort. "well, maybe," assented the foreman. "it's about as mysterious as that underground river of yours. had any more warnings, bud?" "no, i guess they're done with. and i believe it's a natural cause, and not due to any work of enemies, that accounts for the queer way our flume acts." "um!" spoke slim musingly, and that was all he would say. borrowing horses from their friends, the boy ranchers next day made the trip over snake mountain and returned to camp, finding matters there in good shape. there was an abundance of water in the reservoir, and the pipe was flowing freely. for more than a week nothing happened. the cattle at flume valley, including those of the boy ranchers, and the herd transferred from square m to save it from the epidemic, were doing well, abundant grass and water being their portions. there was no lack of hard work for the boys and their cowboy assistants, for it was not all easy sailing. occasionally bunches of steers would stray, and have to be driven back by hard riding. there were night watches to be carried on, and another bunch of cattle was shipped away. bud, dick and nort hazed them over to the railroad, and on the trip a small-sized stampede gave them all they wanted to handle. but they were true sons of the west, and did not complain. "whew! that was hot, while it lasted!" exclaimed bud, as he and cousins managed to get the stampeding animals quieted, after they had tried so hard to run off by themselves, in varying directions. "yes, a thing like that gives you an appetite," remarked dick. "as if _you_ ever needed any stimulant!" laughed nort. "i never saw the time yet when you had to be offered an inducement to sit up to grub!" "you either!" retorted the stout lad. "but, speaking of grub, when do we eat, bud?" "might as well make it right soon," was the answer. "now that we have the steers quieted they'll be glad enough to take it easy. i planned to water 'em at the next stopping place, and that will give us a chance to see what buck tooth put up for us." "stay there all night; will we?" asked nort. "might as well," assented his cousin. "no use running all the fat off our stock. we want 'em to weigh as heavy as possible." this was good business tact on the part of the boy ranchers. for cattle are generally sold by weight, either "on the hoof," which means alive and as they stand in the stock yards, or by weight after being slaughtered. in the case of ranchers "on the hoof" is generally understood. and driving a bunch of steers at too great a speed from the ranch to the railroad would make them thin, "running off their fat," so to speak, thus losing all the advantages of the rich fodder to which they had had access. and when it is considered that it is not at all difficult to cause a steer to lose from ten to fifteen pounds by means of poor driving, and when to this statement is added the fact that this loss is multiplied in hundreds of steers, bud's state of mind can easily be imagined. "yes, we'll get 'em quieted down, and take it easy ourselves," suggested the western lad. and, a little later when some of the steers broke into a run, nort exclaimed: "are they stampeding again?" "no. i reckon they just smell water," bud answered. this proved to be true, and this contagion spread all through the herd, though with no ill effects, for the water hole was not far off and, reaching it, the animals stopped to drink. there was some confusion and excitement because so many thirsty cattle all wanted to drink at once, but it did not last long, and bud, nort and dick were glad when they could slip from their saddles, tossing the reins over their ponies' heads as an intimation to the animals not to stray. "oh boy! but i'm tired!" exclaimed nort, sighing. "add hungry to that and i'm with you," said his brother. for there had been days of long and difficult work in preparing this bunch of cattle for shipment. "getting tired of the game?" asked bud, as he rustled up some sticks of greasewood to make a fire over which they might boil coffee and fry bacon. "not on your life!" laughed nort. "we're in the game to stick!" "sure thing!" asserted dick. they made a simple but ample meal over the camp fire and then, as evening settled down over the vast prairies, and quiet enfolded them like some soft mantle, they lay on their blankets and gazed at the feeding cattle. the steers were very quiet now, evidently feeling quite satisfied with the manner in which they had been treated, and having, of course, no intimation of the fate in store for them. they had food and water and that is all they required. overhead was the cloudless sky, in which sparkling stars were beginning to stud themselves. "i hope the market is well up in price when we get to the yards," observed bud, idly chewing on a spear of grass. "yes, it would be dandy to get a big price for this stock," agreed nort. the boy ranchers were rapidly becoming interested in the business end of their venture, as they had been, for some time, in the more picturesque side. the difference of a fraction of a cent in the price of cattle on the hoof meant the difference of several hundred of dollars where there were many tons of meat to be considered. "well, we'd better ride herd a little while, to make sure they get bedded down quietly," suggested bud, as it began to get darker. "then we'll roll up and snooze ourselves." this "bedding down" of the cattle, meaning thereby inducing them to get quiet enough so they would lie down contentedly chewing their cuds, was part of the routine of a cowboy's life. "some of 'em have already started in," observed nort, as he went up to his pony, which, with the other two animals, had been contentedly grazing. "looks like they'd lived here all their lives." he indicated a score or more of the steer's that were stretched out on the rich grass which at once formed their food and their bed. "yes, i reckon we'll have a quiet night," observed bud. the three chums slowly rode around the bunch of cattle, the lads occasionally breaking into the chorus of some song. the cattle seemed to like this singing--not that this is to be considered a compliment to the voices of nort, dick and bud, though their tones were far from unmusical. but the fact is that animals of most sorts are fond of music in any form, and nothing so seems to soothe and quiet a bunch of cattle, especially at night, as the singing of the herders. perhaps it is due to this fact that we have so many cowboy songs with an interminable number of verses, in which there is little sense or sequence--a mere jumble of words, often repeated. the cattle seem to care more for the tune than for the sentiment. at any rate the bunch from flume valley grew more quiet as the night became darker, and when the remains of their camp fire gleamed dully in the blackness, as they made their way back to it, bud and his cousins considered their work done for the day. "we won't stand any regular watch," bud said. "i think they'll be all right. but if we should hear a disturbance--i mean any one of us--he can awaken the others, and we'll do whatever we have to." "and if we have any luck we won't have to roll out," observed nort, as he spread out his blankets and tarpaulin, which last was to keep the dampness of the ground away. "then i'm going to cross my fingers for luck," observed dick. save for the occasional distant howl of a coyote, or the uneasy movement of an occasional steer, with, now and then, the clashing of the horns of some of the beasts, there was silence in the camp. bud was the first to fall asleep, because he was more accustomed to this sort of life than were his cousins. but they were rapidly falling in with the ways of the west, which teaches a wayfarer to consider home wherever he hangs up his hat, and his bed any place he can throw his blanket and saddle. but finally nort and dick dropped off into slumber, which became sounder as the hours of night passed. all three of the boy ranchers were tired and they were in the most healthful state imaginable, brought about by their life in the open. "what hour it was dick had no idea, but he was suddenly awakened by sensing some movement near him--too near for comfort considering his exposed sleeping position. for he felt something cold and clammy at the back of his neck, as though a chunk of ice, or a hand dipped in cold water, had touched him. "hi! who's doing that?" yelled dick, for he had a sudden dream that he was back at school, and some one was playing a trick on him. "cut it out!" no sooner had he spoken than he realized that he had awakened nort and bud, for by the flickering light of the embers of the fire he could see them sitting up and staring over at him. "what's the matter?" demanded bud. "something tickled the back of my neck," declared dick. "i guess a coyote must have been picking up scraps of food, and smelled of me. hope he didn't take me for a dead one!" "coyote!" exclaimed bud. "i don't believe you could get one to come near you, not as long as you breathed. it must have been a----" "snake!" broke in nort, without thinking of what the word might mean. "wow! don't say that!" cried dick, and he leaped up, scattering his blanket and tarpaulin each in a different direction. "shut up!" commanded bud, laughing. "do you want to start the cattle off again? if it was a snake it won't hurt you, and it was probably more scared than you, dick." "yes--maybe!" said the other. he lighted a stick of greasewood at the fire, and looked about his part of the sleeping ground. but he found nothing in the animal line. "guess you dreamed it!" said nort. "i certainly did not!" emphatically declared his brother. "well, go to sleep again," advised bud. "if you feel it a second time call me!" "huh! i'll do that all right!" declared dick. he carefully shifted his sleeping place, making a searching examination of the ground before spreading out his tarpaulin. and he was some little time in dropping off to slumber again. but there was no further disturbance in the night, and in the morning bud looked for marks on the ground, declaring the visitor had been a prairie dog, which dick declared his unbelief in, sticking to the snake theory as being more sensational. after breakfast they started to drive the cattle again, reaching the railroad yards and successfully transacting the business of selling their stock. it was the night that bud and his cousins returned from having driven the steers to the railroad yard that something happened which again brought to the front all their worries and anxieties. they were all seated about the camp fire, and pocut pete had just arisen, remarking that he would get ready for his turn at night-riding, when there was a sort of hissing in the air over the heads of those gathered about the blaze, and something hit the ground in the midst of the circle. "what's that?" exclaimed nort "an arrow!" answered bud, and so it proved. an indian arrow--of the sort used by the redmen years ago, and hard to pick up now, even as relics--quivered in the ground near the blaze. and by the flickering flames it was seen that a paper was rolled about it. in an instant bud had leaped to his feet, plucked the arrow from the ground, and torn off the paper. by the light of the fire he read it. "another warning!" cried bud. "what does it say?" demanded dick. bud read: "two wasn't enough. this is the third and last! leave flume valley!" there was silence for a moment, and then bud, crushing the scrawled warning in his hand, cried: "i'd like to see 'em drive me out!" "that's th' way to talk!" shouted yellin' kid. "we'll stick!" they gathered about, discussing the sinister warning that had been sent to them in such a sensational manner. there was no clue to tell where it had come from, for no one had noticed the direction whence the arrow had been shot. the message itself was written, or, rather, printed on a piece torn from a paper bag, and the writing was in pencil. the paper was common enough in those parts, and the use of printing, in place of handwriting, would, it seemed, preclude any tracing. "we'd better keep a double watch to-night," suggested bud, when a hasty inspection in the vicinity of the camp had revealed no one. "we shore will!" asserted old billee. the night hours passed, a double guard watching with keen eyes for any sign of strangers approaching the reservoir or the cattle. but, in spite of all precautions, the half-expected happened. it was toward morning, when nort and dick had turned out of warm beds to relieve pocut pete and snake purdee that a confused noise at the extreme end of the valley gave notice that something was wrong. "what's that?" asked bud, who had ridden into camp at the conclusion of his tour of duty. as if in answer came distant shots, the howls of coyotes and the snorting of cattle, mingled with a rush which told its own story. "stampede!" yelled bud. "they're trying to stampede our herd and drive 'em off! come on, fellows!" and all within the sound of his voice rallied to repel the night attack, for such it proved to be. leaping into their saddles, nort and dick followed bud toward the scene of the disturbance. they saw the cattle running to and fro, and in the slivers of light that leaped from the muzzles of guns which were shot off at intervals, they descried figures swiftly riding backward and forward, evidently trying to cut out bunches of cattle. action had followed rapidly on the heels of the sinister arrow warning. chapter xv the branding iron "come on, boys! come on!" shouted bud, as he spurred off in the darkness, followed by nort and dick. "they're trying to drive 'em off through the lower end of the valley! we've got to stop 'em!" "you said it!" shouted dick. "who are they?" yelled nort bud had no time to answer. what was needed, then, was quick action to prevent his own and his cousins', as well as his father's stock from the square m ranch, being driven off by unscrupulous rustlers. for that this night attack was made by these marauders of the plains was not to be doubted. "ride hard, boys! ride hard!" shouted old billee as he galloped up beside the boy ranchers. and they were riding hard--all of them, including the cow punchers who had come in from their night's duties, expecting to be relieved. it was at this favorable--for them--moment that the rascals had made their attack. it was so dark that only, indistinctly, could the forms of raiders be made out. but there were several of them, leaning low over the necks of their galloping steeds, and endeavoring to create a panic among the cattle so that a stampede would result. once this started it would be a comparatively easy matter for them to "cut out" as many choice specimens as possible, driving them to some secret place. there the brands could be "blurred," or changed, and diamond x second would be out several thousands of dollars. "there they are!" yelled bud, as, riding between nort and dick, he saw a group of men swinging their big hats and heard them shouting to frighten the already thoroughly roused cattle. but though bud thus indicated the presence of the rustlers it was not a very clear sight of them that he or his companions had. only for the fact that those of flume valley rode together, and saw the indistinct forms ahead of them, could it be made certain that the unknown ones were the enemy. "crack!" bud's gun shot out a menacing warning, for he had fired high in the air, above the heads of the rustlers. he had borne in mind his father's injunction never to shoot at a human being unless vital necessity required it. "and i'd rather lose all my cattle than kill anyone," bud said afterward. "unless i had to do it to save my life." it was for this reason that he had fired high, and his example was followed by his cousins. but that this consideration on the part of our friends was not appreciated, was made plain, a moment later, when old billee exclaimed: "that was a close one!" his words followed the whining song of a bullet as it zipped through the air, too close to the heads of himself and the boy ranchers to be comfortable. "i'm goin' t' give 'em some of th' same medicine!" shouted yellin' kid, and his gun spat fire, but straight out, and not at a high angle. following it, almost instantly, was a yell of pain from one of the rustlers--which one could not be told because of the mix-up and the darkness, but it was a yell nevertheless. "you winged one!" cried snake purdee. "i meant to!" was the kid's grim answer. "fire high, boys!" cried bud. "if we can scare 'em off, so much the better!" "don't reckon they're th' kind that scares easy," objected old billee. "but we've got 'em on the run!" he exclaimed, a moment or two later, when bud and his party had ridden around some intervening bunches of cattle, and were headed straight for the night attackers. this seemed to describe the situation. so promptly had the boys of flume valley ridden out to repell the raid that the rustlers had no time to stampede the cattle, and cut out some to drive away. now it seemed there must be a clash--a coming together of the two forces. but the rustlers, unscrupulous as they were, evidently knew when discretion was the better part of valor. they fired several more shots, one of which scratched old billee while another gave an ugly wound to snake purdee. then, with yells of defiance, and before our boys could come close enough to recognize any of the raiders, the rustlers galloped off, not having succeeded in driving away any cattle. but their attack had not been without damage to flume valley stock. for two valuable steers had been shot, and so wounded that they had to be killed, while several calves were trampled on and crushed into shapeless masses. this, together with two wounded men, old billee and snake, made up the sum total of the casualties on the part of the diamond x second outfit. "but they're marked!" shouted yellin' kid as he and the others rode back to camp. "i got one, i'm sure!" "i fired low, after i saw they were doing the same, and i saw one nearly slump out of his saddle," declared old billee. "i'd like to know if they were any of the hank fisher or del pinzo gang," said bud. "i wouldn't put it past them," asserted snake. "we'll ride over t' hank's place, casual like, t'-day, an' see if any of his men are hurt." snake spoke rightly of "to-day," for it was getting sunrise-light when the battle was over, and the party returned to the tents near the flume reservoir. the night of excitement, following the mysterious warning sent by the indian arrow, had ended, and everyone welcomed the hot, fragrant coffee made by buck tooth. when snake's wound and billee's scratch had been bandaged, the dead calves buried and the best part of the killed steers cut off for fresh beef, bud and his friends took what might be termed an accounting. the boy ranchers, with old billee, rode back over the ground covered in the attack of the night. the veteran cow puncher pointed out where the rustlers had ridden into the valley, over a pass that crossed a low mountain range, which connected, in a fashion, buffalo ridge and snake mountain. this ridge formed the lower boundary of bud's range, and once the cattle had been driven over this they could easily have been hazed to hank fisher's double z ranch. "well, there's nothing to make sure it was any of del pinzo's gang, except general suspicion," remarked bud, as they were about to ride back to camp. "what's the matter?" he asked, for, with an exclamation, nort had leaped from his saddle. the eastern lad was picking up something from the ground that had been so lately trampled by steers and horses. "look!" exclaimed nort, and he held up a branding iron. "one of ours?" asked bud, in rather a commonplace voice. "not exactly," nort answered. "it's marked with a double z!" chapter xvi queer actions what effect this announcement had on dick and bud can easily be imagined. both leaped from their saddles, as nort had done, and gathered close to him as he held the branding iron in his hand. it was of the usual type, an iron plate, which had been cast in a mould, so that the device--two z letters--formed a depression in the smooth surface of the iron plate. on the outer edge was a circle, so that when the brand was heated, and pressed on the hide of a steer, calf or maverick it would burn the impression of a double z inside a ring--the mark of hank fisher's cattle. "whew!" exclaimed dick. "this makes it look bad for them, bud!" "oh, not necessarily, though i'm glad we found it," spoke the western lad. "why isn't it suspicious?" asked nort, whose high hopes had been rather dashed by bud's somewhat cool reception of dick's statement. "oh, it's _suspicious_ all right!" bud hastened to say, "and don't imagine i'm making light of you finding this, nort! i'm mighty glad you did! only we can't make it look bad for hank fisher, or the double z crowd unless we can fasten this on them." "you mean we can't prove they dropped it here during the raid last night?" asked nort, as he vaulted into the saddle. "that's it," spoke bud. "it does look suspicious, i'll admit. but you see while this is our range, we couldn't make a fuss just because some cowboy from double z rode over it. that wouldn't be right. and what's to hinder this having been dropped by some cowboy who was merely riding over our range?" "that's possible," admitted dick. "but i don't believe it," asserted nort. "nor i," chimed in bud. "but you got to go slow in making accusations out west, unless you're ready to back your opinion up with a gun; and we don't want to do that." "no," nort admitted. "but old billee and snake said they were going to ride over to double z to-day, to sort of size up the situation. so what's to prevent 'em taking this branding iron along and asking, casual like, if they don't want it back?" "nothing to stop that," said bud with a grin. "in fact that's just what we'll do. come on, we'll hit the trail for the camp and make a sort of raid on double z--only we'll make it to-morrow instead of to-day, as it's too late for a long ride." there were murmurs of surprise and excitement at the camp, when the boys rode in with the double z branding iron that nort had picked up at the scene of the raid. "they dropped that last night, sure as horned toads!" cried snake purdee, whose wound was excuse enough for not being out on duty. "i reckon," agreed pocut pete, who likewise was off duty. "let's see that," and he reached for the iron which had a wooden handle to enable a cowboy to manipulate the marker when the branding end was hot. bud, so nort and dick thought, looked rather curiously at pocut pete while the latter was examining the iron. and when the strange cowboy--strange in the sense that he had not been long in mr. merkel's service--took out his knife and began whittling away at the wooden handle, bud uttered a sharp cry of: "stop!" "what's the matter?" asked pocut pete, with an assumption of innocence, which was so plainly an assumption that nort and dick exchanged rapid glances. "don't cut off those initials!" went on bud. "maybe by them we can tell who owns the iron." "initials!" exclaimed pocut pete. "i don't see any initials!" "there they are," and bud pointed to some, rather faintly cut, on a flat place in the handle. "e. c. are the letters, though i don't know anybody with them at double z." "i don't, either," said pocut pete. "in fact, i didn't see them letters, bud. i was just whittling the handle to see what kind of wood it was. thought maybe i could tell by that." "all right," spoke bud, as he again assumed charge of the branding iron. and pocut pete, with a sharp look at the young rancher, went out to the corral where the spare ponies were kept. "was he really trying to cut out those initials?" asked nort, as the three boy ranchers passed on to the grub tent, for it was the joyful time to eat--one of the three joyful times that came each day. "i wouldn't say he was doing it _deliberately_," spoke bud, "but he certainly _was_ whittling near those letters. and if he had cut them off the owner of the branding iron could easily claim it wasn't his." "that was queer," declared dick. "very," assented bud. "in fact pocut pete has acted queer ever since he's been here. i don't like him, and as soon as dad has another puncher to spare i'm going to ask for a change." the remainder of that day and the night passed quietly. there was no other alarm, and riding herd was an easy task. nor was there any stoppage of the water, which ran freely out through the pipe from the underground tunnel as though there had never been any interruption of its very necessary service. "well, let's go!" exclaimed bud next day, as he and his cousins saddled their ponies, and old billee called for yellin' kid to help catch a rather frisky pinto that the old cowboy was going to ride. "over to double z?" asked nort. "yes, we'll take a sort of a look around their place, and hand back this iron," went on bud, as he slung the implement to his saddle by a loop of his lariat. the ride to double z was pleasant enough, for soon the boys and old billee struck the hill trail, where it was cooler than down in the valley. but if they hoped to discover any incriminating evidence at hank fisher's place they were disappointed. there was no sign of del pinzo--in fact that wily mexican half-breed was seldom at the ranch proper. nor was hank at home. but his foreman met the boys and old billee. "hear about the racket over at our place?" asked bud, easily enough, but with a beating heart. he and his cousins looked around for any signs of wounded men, but saw none. "what racket?" asked ike johnson, the foreman. "rustlers," put in old billee. "they scratched me, shot up snake purdee and dropped this--or at least we found this after the mix-up when we'd druv 'em off!" and he took the branding iron from bud's saddle loop. "you don't mean to say----" began ike, with an ugly tone to his voice. "don't mean t' say nawthin'!" drawled old billee. "that's one of your irons, i take it." "yes, it is," growled the foreman slowly. "but that don't mean----" "course it don't!" pleasantly interrupted the old cowboy, giving the young ranchers a slight signal to let him do the talking. "one of your boys dropped it, likely, ridin' short-cut across our place, ike." "yes, i remember now, ed carr said he lost his. this is it," and the foreman of double z pointed to the initials. "well, tell ed--is he here now?" asked billee, interrupting himself. for an instant--and for an instant only--ike johnson hesitated. then he answered: "no, ed's ridin' line. i'll give him this when he comes in." "all right," spoke billee, with a smile. "we was just passin' and stopped with it. how's things, ike?" he asked with an effort to be friendly. "oh, so-so! might be wuss, an' might be a hull lot better." "i reckon it's that way all over," billee made answer. "well, boys," he resumed, "might as well ride back. you gittin' all the water you can use from pocut river, ain't you, ike?" he asked, turning in his saddle. "better ask th' boss about that," was the sullen retort. "i reckon he'll have suthin' t' say, soon, that you diamond x folks won't like!" "is that a threat?" asked bud quickly. "easy, son, easy!" cautioned old billee. "you can make anythin' yo' like of it!" sneered the double z foreman. and then the boy ranchers and old billee rode off. "well, we didn't find out much," said nort, when they were on the homeward trail. "no, but we let 'em know we found that branding iron, and that we knew where it belonged," spoke bud. "that's something!" they were rather late getting back to camp, for dick's pony went lame, and the others accommodated their pace to his. it was dusk when the little party hit the borders of diamond x second, and saw the grazing cattle. bud saw something else, for as he rode ahead he called: "what's he doing?" "who?" asked nort. "pocut pete," replied bud. "looks like he was trying to brand one of our cattle with his knife! look! that's mighty queer!" chapter xvii "germs!" pocut pete did not become aware of the approach of the boy ranchers and old billee until they were almost upon him. he was either so intent on what he was doing, or else the fact that the ponies were on a grassy footing made their advance practically noiseless, that, seemingly, he heard nothing. however it was, the cowboy, about whom bud entertained suspicious, kept on with what he was doing--something strange to one of the milder-tempered steers. something "mighty queer," as bud had said in a whisper to his chums. which whisper accounted for the fact that pocut pete had not heard the voice. so it was not until their shadows, mingling with those of the descending night, fell athwart him that the cowboy looked up with a start. "oh!" exclaimed pocut pete, and then bud and the others saw that he had a knife in his hand, and something else. something that glistened when old billee struck a match to light his pipe. for the old cowboy had, long ago, passed up the inevitable paper cigaret, and used the more sedate form of the weed. "what's the idea?" asked bud, and his question seemed to give pocut pete a chance to pull himself together, to answer with more coolness than he had exhibited by his first exclamation. "this steer had some sort of a growth on his shoulder--like a wart," explained the cowboy. "i was just seeing if i could cut it off." "you'd better be careful!" warned old billee. "why?" asked pocut pete so quickly that the other's remark might have well carried a threat, which, in the tone billee used it, did not. "you may get horned," went on the veteran cow puncher. for many of the cattle on the range of bud and his cousins "wore their horns long," so to speak. gradually the dehorning system was spreading through the west, but such an innovation, found to be most practical from all standpoints, took time to grow. "oh, this chap isn't dangerous," went on pocut pete with a laugh, closing his rather large pocket knife with a snap. "all the same, if you don't want me to snip off that wart i won't." "i wouldn't," said bud. "not but what i'm glad to have you take an interest in the cattle," he went on, "but cutting one with a knife might bring on blood poisoning." "yes, an' jabbin' a knife into one might set it wild, an' it would rush off an' start a stampede," said billee. "i realized that," admitted pocut pete, "so that's why i didn't do it until i got this steer off by himself." he spoke this truly enough, for the lone animal he had been "operating" on was some distance from the main herd. "i never saw a wart on a steer," spoke bud, as he urged his pony nearer to where the strange cowboy stood on the ground close to the beef animal. "it's queer----" there was a sudden movement. pocut pete leaped back and the steer, as though taking fright at bud's advance, lowered its head, and, with a loud bellow, sprang away. "i told you so!" called out old billee. "you might 'a' got horned, pete!" "oh, i was watching," came the answer. "yes, warts do, sometimes, come on cattle," he went on. "i've cut off lots of 'em. some beef men won't pass 'em if they have any. i thought i was doing you a favor." he spoke in an injured tone of voice. "well, maybe you were," admitted bud. "first i thought you were someone else." "one of the double z bunch?" asked pocut pete with a laugh. "did you find out anything over there?" he inquired as he caught his pony, which had been standing near-by, and leaped into the saddle. "nary a thing," voiced old billee. and then, as the group, pocut pete included, headed back for camp, the old cowboy broke into song, roaring out: "send me a letter, kid, write it yo'self! put in some news of th' city. for it's lonesome out here, 'neath th' blue, starry sky, an' cowboys don't get any pity!" "what's struck you?" laughed bud. "oh, i feel sorter so-so," affirmed old billee. "we're in for a storm, i reckon." "and that's your weather indication!" chuckled nort. "yeppy," agreed the veteran, and he broke into another verse of the interminable song--one of the series that cowboys love to warble. "what do you think of pocut pete?" asked dick of bud in the seclusion of their own tent that night. "oh, i don't know what to think," was the answer. "i did have him down for a drinker, or a doper, but he doesn't seem to be either, and he does his work well. only i don't know what to make of his actions to-night. warts! on a steer! that sounded fishy to me!" "same here!" agreed dick. but as several days passed, and nothing more suspicious occurred, the action of pocut pete was rather forgotten. nor was there any further trouble with the rustlers, or the lack of water. in spite of the warnings and veiled threats that had been received, the black pipe still spouted into the reservoir. and then, like lightning out of a clear sky, came a bolt that gave the boy ranchers a shock. old billee riding in from off the distant range one day, called to bud who was opening some of the reservoir gates to let water run to a distant trough for the cattle. "bad business, bud!" exclaimed the veteran. "what's that?" asked the lad, with an instinctive glance at the black pipe, whence the water spouted. his first thought was of that. "there's five of your steers dead, over near the last water trough!" was the answer. "steers dead!" gasped bud. "rustlers?" he asked, quickly. "don't 'pear to be," billee answered. "there isn't a mark on 'em. maybe it's glanders. better get doc. tunison right over." which bud did, by telephone. the veterinarian, who looked after the health of cattle in that vicinity, appeared in due season. bud, with his cousins and old billee went out to where the dead cattle lay, now stiff and stark. some buzzards flopped heavily off as the party approached. "hum!" mused dr. tunison as he began his examination. it did not take him long to complete it. "i thought so," he remarked, as he looked at bud. "what is it?" "germs!" was the answer. "the epidemic's struck you, bud!" chapter xviii roped! like a blow struck came that announcement to bud merkel. and to his chums and partners in their first small venture as boy ranchers on their own responsibility, the announcement of the veterinarian was staggering. "germs!" exclaimed nort. "epidemic!" voiced dick. "has it really struck here--the same disease that was among dad's cattle?" asked bud, as though hoping there might be some mistake. "it's here all right," went on dr. tunison, rising from his stooping position beside a dead steer. he looked about for a puddle of water in which to wash his hands, and, having completed the operation, using a disinfectant from a bottle he produced, he added: "better fence off this puddle, bud. if any of your other cattle happen to drink here they'll get the disease, too, and bump off." that was his way of saying that the steers would die. "i'll do that!" declared bud. "we can cut the water off from this part of the range. but what causes the epidemic, doc? dad was careful not to send me any of his infected cattle from square m, and he said you'd examined all that came, and they didn't have any of the trouble." "they didn't," declared the veterinarian. "i examined them all, and nothing was wrong with them. but this epidemic is a germ disease, bud, and we don't exactly know how the germs are carried. it may be something the cattle eat; the bunch grass or other fodder, in the water; or it may come out of the air. all we know is that certain germs, in some, as yet unknown, way, enter into the system of the steer. they get into the blood through the mouth or nostril, or perhaps from a scratch or cut. and once the germs are there, so rapid is the action that the animals die over night--as yours have done, and as your father's did." "has dad lost any more?" asked bud. "not that i've heard of. in fact i thought by his action, in sending the healthy animals of his square m herd here, and to his other ranches, that he'd gotten the best of it. but now the epidemic breaks out here. i can't understand it!" the veterinarian stood looking down at the dead animal, while the buzzards patiently waited nearby for the feast they knew belonged to them. evidently they were not fearful of germs. "what's that funny smell?" suddenly asked nort. "that? oh, it's the smell characteristic of the disease," replied dr. tunison. "not very pleasant. i got some of the pus on my hands--that's why i washed and disinfected them. well, bud, i'm afraid you're in for it!" "you mean the epidemic may run through all my stock?" asked the boy rancher, anxiously. "it may, and that's the reason i'm putting you on your guard. but let's hope for the best. we'll act promptly. fence this place off, or don't let any more water here, where other cattle can drink from the pool, that must, of necessity, be contaminated, now that i washed my hands in it, if for no other reason. also separate the other cattle into as many herds as you can handle. in this way, if the epidemic gets among one bunch, you don't stand to lose so many. this is about all you can do." "no preventative measures?" asked bud. "no. if the cattle remain healthy they may resist the germs. nature sometimes provides her own remedies. she'll have to, in a case like this, where so little is known about this malady that no cure is yet available to science." "that sure is a funny smell--i don't like it!" said nort again. "no, it isn't very pleasant," agreed the veterinarian. and then bud, who had been in a serious, brown study seemed, for the first time, to become aware of the evil odor. "that smell! that smell!" he cried. "i've smelled it before!" "not unless you came in contact with the germs," spoke dr. tunison. "where did you smell it, bud?" but, as suddenly as he had spoken, bud merkel became silent. he seemed to be thinking deeply, and as he turned aside he said: "oh, maybe it was when old billee rode in to tell me he had seen these dead steers." "possibly," admitted the veterinarian. "the smell is very characteristic, as i said. but you'd better arrange to bury these animals, bud." "there isn't any danger--i mean to humans; is there?" bud asked. "if there is we'll let 'em stay here. the buzzards will make short work of 'em." "no, there's no danger to man, even in directly handling the germs. that has been proved," said dr. tunison. "but if you let the cattle lie here, and the buzzards eat 'em, in some manner the disease may be carried to your other cattle. best bury 'em, and fence off this water-hole." which was done. so the evil-looking buzzards were deprived of a feast, and flapped mournfully away. there were anxious days that followed the appearance of the epidemic among the cattle of the boy ranchers. i speak of the cattle as their own, and they were, in a sense. for though, of course, mr. merkel really owned flume valley, and put up the cash to start the boys in business, he had determined that they should run the place as though it was their own. they must stand or fall by what happened. it was the only real way to start them in the way of becoming cattlemen, he decided. so, though the boys were young, possibly the youngest ranchers in that part of the west, they were in earnest and accepted all the responsibilities that went with the venture. bud was very thoughtful those anxious days. there was hard work for all, since dividing the doubled herds into small units meant that each cowboy, including bud, nort and dick, had to look after a certain number day and night. but no one shirked, even buck tooth working unusually hard in addition to doing the cooking. though indian braves are constitutionally opposed to labor, buck tooth made an ideal herdsman. not as much time was spent in camp as had formerly been the case, as the boy ranchers and their older helpers were more often out riding herd. but occasionally many of them gathered at the tents to compare notes and "feed up," as snake put it. his wound, received in the fight with the rustlers, had healed. "some day we'll have regular ranch houses here instead of just a camp," bud said, as he was riding back one day to look after the herd he had assigned to himself. "oh, this isn't so bad," spoke nort. "real jolly, i call it!" added dick. "if only the water supply keeps up, and no more epidemic comes, we'll be all right," bud announced. "at the same time i can't be sure of either." this was true. though the water flowed merrily on since the time the lads had penetrated the length of the tunnel, there was always an uneasy feeling, on the part of the boy ranchers and their friends, that it might stop at any time. "and when it dries up again," bud declared, "i'm not going to be satisfied until i find out what makes it quit flowing!" "that's the idea!" added nort. "we'll solve the mystery!" as the days passed, and no more cattle were found ill or dead from the epidemic, the hopes of the boy ranchers began to rise. had they caught the malady in time? could it be stamped out by the burial of the five steers? time alone--and a longer time than had so far elapsed--could tell. bud, nort and dick each had charge of a herd, the three bunches of cattle being pastured on adjoining areas of rich grass. but the distances separating them were not so great but that bud and his cousins could exchange visits. and it was on one of these occasions that there occurred something which cleared up, in part at least, the mystery hanging over flume valley. the boy ranchers were about to part for the evening, having spent the afternoon together over "grub," cooking at an open fire; and nort and dick were preparing to ride back to their herds, bud being on the ground, so to speak, where he would "bunk" for the night. as they rode down into a little swale amid the gathering shadows of the night, a bunch of cattle moved uneasily along ahead of them, and as the steers parted there was disclosed in their midst the forms of a man and a horse. "who's that?" suddenly asked dick. "it isn't one of our boys," declared nort. bud suddenly sat upright in his saddle. he breathed deeply, and then quickly spurred forward. his cousins saw him swinging his lariat around his head. in an instant it went swishing through the air, and, a moment later, as the coils settled about the figure of a man who started to leap for his pony, bud let out a yell, shouting: "roped! roped, by zip foster!" chapter xix an expedition in the dark. there was a confusion of rope and man. sock, bud's pony, braced his feet, including the white one that gave him his name, and the lariat tightened. there was a scurrying among the cattle, and the lone pony, without a rider, galloped off. nort and dick, taken by surprise, had reined their steeds to a stop when they saw bud lassoing the unknown man, but now they spurred up to their cousin. "what is it?" demanded nort. "who is he?" dick wanted to know. at that instant a shot cracked, and the fast-gathering darkness was cut by a sliver of flame. "trying that, are you!" angrily shouted bud, and he backed his pony quickly, pulling the roped man along the ground, until the prostrate figure let out a yell. "my hands are up!" came desperately out of the darkness. "they'd better be!" retorted bud. "can you get off and tie him, nort?" the boy rancher called to his cousin. "get out your gun, dick, and cover him! he's going to be a bad actor, i'm saying!" "i'm through!" came the sullen response from the man on the ground. "my gun went off by accident." "such _accidents_ aren't healthy around here," grimly spoke bud. "get at him, fellows!" "who is he?" asked nort, as he slipped from his pony, throwing the reins forward and on the ground as notice that the animal was to stand. "and what's that funny smell?" asked dick. "it's like--like the time we found the five dead steers!" "yes, and there'll be more dead steers as the result of this!" said bud, and there was a choking in his voice. a moment later dick and nort were standing over the prostrate figure of pocut pete. his arms were bound firmly to his sides by the tight coil of the lariat, held taut by bud, and the other boys could see that the cowboy's gun had slipped from its holster and lay some distance away from him. nort picked up the gun, and then, with quick motions, he and dick bound some coils of bud's rope around the rascal's feet. all the fight seemed taken out of him. without his gun, down on the ground and his pony out of reach--he lacked all the prime requisites of a cowboy. there was no escape, covered as he was by bud, who had drawn his own . , and pocut pete "jest natcherly caved in," as old billee described it later. "caught you at it, just as i thought i would!" said bud, when pete was bound and hoisted up on his horse by the boys. "go on! get it over with," was the grim answer. "i know when the game is played out, and it was a dirty game from the start. i'd never have opened it only i was desperate for money, and he offered me a lot." "i know who you mean," said bud. "it sure was a dirty game; and the worst of it is that it isn't over yet. that epidemic may spread all through our stock!" pocut pete returned no answer as the boys started with him in the direction of the camp. "what was he doing--trying to cut more warts off your cattle?" asked dick. "warts!" cried bud indignantly. "he was infecting them with the germs of that disease! don't you smell the rotten stuff?" "oh!" exclaimed nort. "so _that's_ the game?" "yes," spoke bud bitterly. "i wish i'd acted sooner, when i began to suspect him! but i didn't think any one would play a trick like this--especially on some one who never had harmed him." "has he been infecting your cattle?" asked nort. "sure!" answered bud. "i've got the goods on him! he had some thin glass bottles, with some sort of germ-dope in them. he cut, or scratched, the cattle and poured this stuff in the sore. that's how my steers got it, and not from being infected by those dad sent over. oh, it sure is a rotten game, just when we were starting, too!" "he ought to be shot!" indignantly voiced nort. "or strung up!" added dick. "i don't care what they do to him!" said bud. "i'm going to turn him over to old billee and the boys!" "don't do that!" begged the bound figure of pocut pete. "they--they may lynch me. take me right to the sheriff!" "too far," said bud shortly. "i don't care what the boys do to you! i'm through!" the prisoner vainly struggled with his bonds, but they held firm. it need not be written that there was a surprised bunch of cow punchers who gathered in the camp of the boy ranchers a little later, when pocut pete was delivered to them. indignant voices and looks were noted on all sides as his crime was recounted by bud. in brief it was this: from the time of pocut pete's arrival bud had taken a dislike to him, and had suspected him, wrongly it appeared now, of being an addict to some form of drug, slangily termed "dope." for he had found fragments of thin-glass bottles, and had discovered in part of a broken phial, the same evil-smelling mixture that, later, was associated with the diseased cattle. then bud did not know enough of the danger to act promptly, and even when pocut pete was discovered, "cutting a wart off a steer," as he falsely said, bud did not know what to make of that. an older person might have been suspicious enough to have acted with more promptness, but bud, naturally, had lots to learn. however, as appeared later, pocut pete had secured from some of the disease-killed cattle some pus, filled with millions of germs. this unpleasant mixture he kept in tiny phials. how he learned that to inject some of this pus under the hide of a steer would infect the animal, not only causing it to die of the disease, but to transmit it to others, is not vital to the story. sufficient that pocut pete did know this. and he put his evil knowledge to evil use. he was caught by bud, nort and dick in the very act of infecting some of bud's steers. for when search was made in the morning, at the scene of the capture, broken bits of phials were discovered, some with that vile, yellow substance on them. and an inspection of the cattle showed several with cuts on their flanks, into which cuts, it was assumed, the germs had been injected, or rubbed. these animals were at once isolated, to determine what would happen to them. the ground near where pocut pete had carried on his nefarious operations was sprayed with disinfectants, and the cattle that had been with those he inoculated were also herded by themselves. these were all the precautions that could be taken, and then pocut pete was hurried off to the nearest jail, there to await trial. "but what set him up to such vile work?" asked nort, when the prisoner had been taken from camp. "what else but the desire of hank fisher to see our stock-raising experiment fail?" countered bud. "this is the doing of those scoundrels at double z. i only wonder that del pinzo wasn't in on the game." "he may be yet," said dick. "well, we'll be on the watch from now on--doubly on the watch," asserted bud. "they won't put anything like this over on us again!" "not if we know it!" joined in his cousins. it could not be determined, for several days, what the turn would be in the case of the cattle into which pocut pete had injected germs of the disease. dr. tunison was sent for, but said he could do nothing more than had been done. "you'll just have to wait and see how many will die," he told bud. "you've done all you could by isolation. and there's one thing in your favor. no more of your cattle have been infected by those five that first died. we caught that outbreak in time. and if it proves that pocut pete is the sole source of infection on your ranch, it means that only those he managed to cut in his last operation will die." but it took time to determine this, and while waiting for the outcome something else happened which, though it seemed to involve tragedy at the time, really resulted in clearing up the mystery and ending the water fight at diamond x. one morning, about a week after the roping of pocut pete, when the boy ranchers and their friends were assembled in camp, preparatory to starting out on their rounds of riding herd, buck tooth, who had gone to the reservoir to fish, came running down to the tents much excited. "he must have caught a big one!" commented old billee. but it was not fish that had aroused the old indian. "water stop! water him stop all time!" he yelled. "what's that?" shouted bud. "isn't the pipe running?" "no run!" answered buck tooth briefly. "all gone!" "more trouble!" commented bud. and then, with a grim tightening of his lips, he added: "this time we'll get to the bottom of the mystery!" there was no doubt about the fact that the water had stopped running. as they all raced up the sloping side of the reservoir they saw only a few drops trickling from the pipe. "the third time--i'm going to make it the last if it's possible," declared bud. "what yo' aimin' t' do?" asked old billee. "go through the tunnel from end to end, and both sides, and see where the water vanished to," was the answer. "we'll get up a regular expedition this time, and maybe take a boat. we'll find out what it all means." "i believe you're right," asserted snake purdee. "there's no use trying to work flume valley if the water supply is goin' to be cut off without notice. i'm with you, bud!" "so 'm i!" shouted yellin' kid. "whoop-ee! i'm a lone wolf an' this is my turn for makin' a noise! whoopee!" "let's find out, first, if the water is coming into the pipe from the river," suggested nort. "you call up," begged bud. "i'm going to get ready for this expedition. we'll have to start in the dark," he went on, referring to the black tunnel that stretched under snake mountain. "but we may come out into the light. anyhow, we're going in!" chapter xx into the depths preparations for exploring the mysterious tunnel on this occasion were much more complete and elaborate than when bud, dick and nort walked through it before. and they did not rush off in haste, the moment it was discovered that the water no longer came through the reservoir end of the pipe line that formed the beginning and end of the old underground stream course. "there's water enough for nearly a week, anyhow," said bud, in discussing their plans. "and if we can't discover the cause of the stoppage inside of that time, and get it turned on again, we may as well know that and give up flume valley as a bad job." "that's right," chimed in nort. "the stoppage is inside the tunnel, that's sure," voiced dick. "yes," answered his cousin. "the water is running in all right from the river." this fact had been ascertained by telephone. the water was running freely from pocut river above the dam, and into the pipe that entered the side of the mountain. bud's father had been told of the situation, which followed so closely on the heels of the discovery of the evil acts of pocut pete. "doesn't this sort of set you fellows back so you want to give up ranching?" mr. merkel asked his son and nephews. "not a bit!" promptly answered bud. "we're going to stick!" added nort. "and find out what makes this water stop," contributed dick. "we'll show up hank fisher, del pinzo and that other bunch of crooks, too!" "i don't see how hank could have had anything to do with this water stoppage," said mr. merkel. "of course it may develop that he hired pocut pete to infect our cattle, but even that is doubtful. those fellows are pretty cute. anyhow, pocut pete is where he can't do any harm for some time. he won't be tried until fall. "but it's my idea, boys, that this water stoppage is caused by some natural means. we are using an old underground river bed, you realize, and there may be what i'd call a 'hole' in it somewhere. the water that ought to come to you may drop down that hole." "but why doesn't it do it all the while?" asked dick. "that's one of the mysteries," said his uncle, "one that you'll have to solve." "we went over it all before," spoke bud, "and we couldn't see even a branch passage." "well, some of the men are going with you this time," his father said. "they're more used to looking for signs than you fellows are, though i must say you've done fine, so far!" as mr. merkel had stated, it was decided to send several of the cowboys with bud and his cousins on this expedition into the dark tunnel. old billee, yellin' kid and snake purdee would be of the party, which would thus consist of six. in this way, there being safety in numbers, it was hoped that accidents might be avoided, or, if they happened, there would be at hand help for the unfortunates. "if we could only take a boat," said dick, when the preparations were almost completed, "it would be great!" "what could we do with a boat in that stream, which is hardly three feet wide in places?" asked his brother. a boat had been mentioned in the first excitement, however, but the idea was abandoned as impracticable. "well, if the flood came, as suddenly as it did when we had to take refuge on the ledge, we could float out," answered dick. "a boat to hold six men would be too big to carry," spoke bud. "even a folding canvas one wouldn't answer. but i know what we can do." "what?" asked nort. "we can each take an inner automobile tire. blown up, they are as good as life preservers, and with them fastened to us we can float and be carried along by the current, if a flood happens again." it was decided that this was a wise precaution to take, and from diamond x some inner tubes were sent over--old ones that had outlived their usefulness on the car, but which still held air, and would, as bud said, make excellent life preservers. in order to make a thorough examination it was decided to take food and water enough to last the expedition at least two days. it was easy to traverse the tunnel in one day, as the boys had proved. but old billee counseled a slower trip. "i wish i could go with you," said mr. merkel to the boys, when the time came for the start, "but i have a shipment of steers to get off, and i want to keep watch of this epidemic. it begins to look as if we had gotten the best of it, but i'm taking no chances." "oh, we'll make out all right, dad," spoke bud. "though we would like to have you with us. and when we come back we'll either settle, for good and all, this fight for water, or we'll abandon flume valley!" "i'd hate to see you give it up," said the ranchman. "it is an ideal place to raise cattle, with the water here. but without it, of course, there's no use thinking of it. well, good luck to you," he called, as he turned to go back to diamond x proper. as he had said, there had been no further outbreak of the epidemic among the cattle of the boy ranchers. the steers which pocut pete had cut, injecting into them the pus and germs, died, however. and there were more of these than bud and his cousins had counted on. but if they lost no more than this half-score, and could get the water back, all might yet be well. the water in the reservoir had gone down several feet when the expedition started into the tunnel. much of the fluid had to be drawn off to water the thirsty cattle, for it was the height of summer now, and the heat, in the middle of the day, was terrific. but there was still enough of the supply to last for several days. then, if bud and his companions could not discover the secret of the stoppage, and get the water to running again. flume valley would have to be abandoned. "well, i can't see that we can do any more," spoke bud. "no; you've got things as well fixed as possible," agreed old billee. "can't tell when you'll see us again," said dick to the remaining cowboys gathered about the reservoir end of the tunnel to see the expedition start in. "well, good luck, anyhow!" came the answer. a number of punchers had been sent over to flume valley from diamond x and triangle b to replace yellin' kid, billee and snake purdee who were to accompany the boy ranchers. suddenly yellin' kid broke into song: "leave me alone with a rope an' a saddle, fold my spurs under my haid! give me a can of them sweet, yaller peaches, 'cause why? my true-love is daid!" "oh, give us something cheerful!" laughed bud, as the cowboy seemed about to start on another verse. "that's cheerful enough for this occasion," retorted yellin' kid. "wait 'till you hear me howl in that tunnel." "don't!" begged dick with a laugh. "it echoes so you'll bring the roof down!" there was a hurried inspection of their weapons and supplies, for each was equally needed. the inner tubes of several auto tires had been provided and tested, and there was a small air pump with which to inflate them. "all ready?" asked bud, at length. "all ready," answered old billee. "but i wish i had a hoss!" "couldn't use one," retorted snake purdee. "it'll work off some of the fat, if you walk." "hu! fat!" snorted old billee. "i ain't fat!" "forward!" suddenly called bud. then with waves of their hands, and with the calling of many "good-bye" farewells, the expedition disappeared into the black depths of the tunnel. what would they find? what would be the outcome? would they ever reappear again? these were questions which more than one asked himself, but no one spoke them aloud. "now," remarked bud, when they were well within the long stretch of blackness, and lanterns had been lighted, "we walked, the other time, on the left-hand side of the water course. what say we try the right one this time?" "good enough!" decided old billee. "we'll be right for once!" he joked. "but it really is a good idea," declared snake purdee. "there might have been something--some hidden passage on the side you didn't travel, boys. you could easily have missed it in the darkness." so this was decided on. as a matter of fact in many places it was possible for the party to divide and some walk along either side of the old stream bed. but this would not be feasible should the water suddenly appear again. and so the expedition moved slowly along. i say slowly, for that speed marked their course. they carried a number of lanterns and these were flashed over walls and roof as well as on the bottom, to discover, if possible, a branch tunnel, or hole, where the water might travel to, and thus be shunted off from the reservoir end. but, for several hours nothing occurred, and nothing was discovered. lunch was eaten in the blackness, relieved as it was only by the lanterns, and then the expedition started off again. "here's the place where we were when the water came spouting before," said bud, as they came opposite the ledge on which he and his cousins had taken refuge. "i think we ought to spend some time here and----" "hark," suddenly interrupted nort. "hear that noise!" they all heard it--a rushing, roaring sound, like the blowing of a mighty wind. "the water--the water!" cried bud. "look out!" they could hear the noise more plainly, now, and as snake and billee raised their lanterns, the glows flashed on a white, frothy mass approaching through the blackness of the tunnel. "it's the same as before!" cried nort. "get to the ledge! the ledge!" he made a leap, running ahead to where he saw a more narrow place that would enable him to leap across from the right to the left side of the channel. and then, while the others hung back for a moment, and nort thus dashed ahead alone, his companions saw him quickly disappear. the wall of water suddenly rushed forward, but it never came quite to the place where the party of five now stood in nameless terror--five, for nort had disappeared into the depths of the stream that had so mysteriously appeared again out of the blackness. from whence it came, and whither it was rushing, not to foam entirely over that startled group, none in it could say. but it had engulfed nort--that they had seen. chapter xxi the figure on the rock horror and surprise held the five speechless for a moment. then, as they heard the noise of the rushing water, and saw, by the light of their lanterns, that it came almost to them, but suddenly turned to the right, they came to their senses. "nort! nort!" yelled dick, his voice being flung back at him in echoes from the rocky, vaulted roof of the tunnel. "what in th' world happened?" asked old billee in trembling accents. "nort fell into the stream, and was carried away," answered bud, his voice choking. "but why doesn't the water reach us?" asked snake. "that's what we'll have to find out," asserted bud, bravely. "come on!" "but be careful," cautioned billee. "something may happen t' us, an' then we can't help nort! go easy!" he spoke only in time, for the next moment, with an exclamation of horror, bud and dick, who had forged ahead, recoiled back. "look out!" shouted bud, and he made such a lurch backward to recover his balance that the lantern was flung from his hand. it dropped, as they all could see, into the midst of black, swirling waters, white foam-capped on top. and it was into this stream that nort had fallen and been carried away, and into this stream that bud and dick had been nearly precipitated as they dashed forward. bud's lantern was extinguished with a hiss as the waters penetrated it and covered the wick. it sank from sight, but not before it had, in a flash, illuminated the surface of the water. "it's a good thing we took the right-hand side," said billee, as he and the others saw what it was that had caused the water to rush almost to their feet and then branch off. "i mean it's a good thing, for it may help us to solve the mystery. but as for poor nort----" he did not finish, but dick sent up a despairing cry: "nort! oh, nort! where are you?" and only the vaulty echoes answered. "what are we going to do?" asked snake, who seemed unable to suggest anything. "everybody come here with their lanterns," directed bud. "and light that spare one, billee." thus was replaced the one he had dropped in the effort to save himself from falling into the same torrent that had engulfed his cousin. and in the light of the lanterns, the one nort had carried being forever lost, it seemed they all could see the explanation for the apparently mysterious action of the underground stream; or, rather, it was an explanation of part of the mystery; for this was only the beginning. beyond where they stood, in the direction of pocut river, there flowed through the ancient channel a body of water larger than that which usually filled the underground course. this was accounted for, likely, by the fact that it had been stopped, or dammed, by some natural or artificial means, and had suddenly been released. thus the channel was more fully filled than usual. but, as i have said, the water came up to the point where the members of the expedition then stood. from there it made a sudden turn to their right, as they stood facing the river end of the tunnel. and it was this sudden turn--this shift in the course of the underground stream--which prevented it from engulfing our friends. but it had engulfed nort. "i see what happened--or, at least, part of it," spoke bud while the others listened. "the waters were suddenly turned on again, or turned themselves on, and shot this way. nort heard them and ran down here to jump across the stream-bed, which was then dry. but he must have fallen over the edge of this traverse ledge, or channel, as i nearly did, and down he went!" they looked, and agreed that this was very likely how it had taken place. "but can't we save him?" pleaded dick. "i'm a good swimmer. let me try to get him! maybe he's lying down there--on the bottom!" he made as if to take off his coat, but old billee grabbed him by the arm. "you'd only go t' your death, boy!" said the old ranchman hoarsely. "it's bad enough--as it is!" "but what happened to nort?" asked dick, and there was a sob in his voice. "he must have been carried away--down that stream--wherever it goes," asserted snake purdee. "that's just the point, where does it go?" dick asked. "wait a minute," counseled bud. "let's see if we can reason this out." he paused to give it thought. "the way this stream is running now," he resumed, "wouldn't put any water into our reservoir, would it?" "no," answered yellin' kid, and for once his voice was softened. "th' water is all being shunted down this passage--where nort fell." "but," resumed bud, "this passage has always been here. we didn't see it before, as we walked on the other side of the main channel. then if this side channel has always been here, and we managed to get water through our pipe when it was here, it stands to reason that it must fill in time, enabling the water to run along here," and he indicated the regular channel that extended back of them out toward flume valley. "that's so!" cried old billee. "there's an end, or a bottom, t' this channel somewhere, and poor nort can't be carried all the way through th' earth." "but--but," faltered dick. "it may be too late to save him when this side passage fills up." "what i was going to propose," went on bud, "is that we see if we can't follow along this newly-discovered side passage, as we have been following the main bed of the underground river." he paused to let his companions visualize this suggestion. "do you think that would be safe?" asked old billee. "i mean," he added quickly, "will that be th' safest way t' try an' save nort? i won't back down on anything--i guess you know that--but i was just wondering if there was some other way." "there might be," said bud. "we could go along on the left side of the stream, and see if there is a crossing place farther on. we saw some narrow places when we were here before, but it's a question how much water they'd have in them now." "oh, but can't we do something?" cried dick, now almost sobbing, though he was making a brave effort to conquer himself. "oh, nort! nort! where are you?" he cried frenziedly. but again only the echoes answered. "come on!" cried old billee suddenly. "we'll try this way. we've got t' do something!" "leave our packs here," suggested yellin' kid, and again his voice was low, as if in deference to dick's feelings. "we can put 'em up on that ledge," he added, indicating a small one on their side of the underground stream. "the water doesn't appear to have been up there in years. if we leave our things here we'll be better able to help nort--if we find him," he added in a voice so low that only old billee heard. "take our lanterns," suggested snake purdee. "and ropes," went on bud. "we may need 'em!" accordingly the food and other supplies, which the searchers after the secret of the underground water course had brought with them, were put up on the ledge, and then they started down the black passage through which the stream appeared to have branched, carrying nort with it. there was room but for one to walk at a time on this "bank," as it might be called, of the hidden stream, and they had to proceed in single file. "i'd like to see a map of this place, so we'd know where we were going," spoke old billee, as he swung his lantern from side to side in an endeavor to disclose the hidden secrets of the place. "i have an idea that the underground stream is shaped like the letter t," spoke bud. "the top, or cross stem, is the part that extends from the river to our reservoir. we are now walking along the upright piece." "but if the main part of the t is also a stream, and the water is running down that, as it is, instead of along the main stem, it becomes for the time being a letter l, doesn't it?" asked snake. "yes," assented bud. "and as long as the water turns at right angles, as it does at the place where nort fell in, and as long as the water runs along this same side passage, we don't get any at flume valley. the letter t is in our favor, and l is against us." "but we didn't see anything like this when we were here before," remarked dick. "because we weren't on this side," bud answered. "and i have an idea that, in time, this second passage finally fills with water completely, and when it does the stream again flows along the cross stem of the t and we get it." "mebby you're right," old billee agreed. "but this isn't finding nort." "will we--will we ever find him?" faltered dick. "sure!" declared bud, as heartily as he could. but as they progressed in the darkness, stopping now and then to look about by means of the light, calling again and again, and as no reply came, even the heart of the stoutest of them sank in despair. all they could see was black, rushing water, flowing in a channel it appeared to have cut, after countless years, in the solid rock. there was a narrow footpath, so to speak, on either side of this stream, and it was along this the searchers were walking. suddenly bud, who was in the lead, uttered a strange cry. "what's the matter?" exclaimed dick. "do you see him?" "no! but look!" went on bud. "we have come out into a regular underground cave! it's as big as a house!" he flashed his lantern around in a circle, and as the others came up and stood beside him, at a spot where the passageway beside the stream widened, they saw that they had emerged into a great vault. and as they stood there, awed and marveling, there came to them, above the rustle and whispering of the rushing waters, the sound of a human voice--it was as though someone, sorely hurt, had moaned. "listen!" cried dick. "hold up your lanterns!" commanded bud sharply. as they raised them, throwing the combined light farther out across the stream that had widened into a pool in the vault, dick uttered a cry. "i see him! i see nort!" yelled dick. "there, on the rock!" and he pointed to the huddled figure of some one on a great rock in the middle of the pool of black water, which seemed, a short distance from the inflowing stream, to be as quiet as a lake. and, as they watched in the gleam of the lights, the figure on the rock moved slightly. "nort! nort!" cried dick, and his voice was flung back in deafening echoes from the vaulted roof. chapter xxii the water gate while they eagerly watched, the solitary figure on the big rock in the midst of that sinister pool again moved slightly, and as it became partly erect it was seen to be nort shannon. "we've found him! we've found him!" joyfully cried dick. "an' alive, too, if i'm any judge," added billee. dick was stripping off his coat, when bud placed a hand on his shoulder. "wait a minute," advised the western lad. "but i'm going to get him!" objected the brother. "i'm going to save nort!" "maybe it isn't safe, and we may be able to save him in another way," suggested bud. "i say, nort," he called. "are you hurt?" how eagerly they all waited for the answer, after the echo of bud's voice had ceased reverberating in the big cave! "yes--i--i'm all right," came the faint answer across the silent pool. "i don't know exactly how i got here. something hit me on the head--after i fell--fell in. i reckon i must have floated near this rock and--and just naturally grabbed hold and--pulled myself--up!" "that's enough! take it easy now!" called bud. "we're coming over to get you!" "sure you're not hurt?" asked dick, his voice trembling. "nothing more than a bump on the head," answered nort, his own tones stronger now. "not half as bad as i've gotten at football," and he laughed a little--the most joyful sound any of them had heard since the sweeping away of the boy rancher. "well, now we've found him, the next thing is to get him over here," spoke bud. "two of us had better swim out there. this water looks to be all right," and he stooped down and tested it with his hand. "as warm as the river," he added. "i'm going to swim out!" declared dick, and this time, as he began to "peel," no one stopped him. "i'll go with you," said bud. "we'll tie the ropes around our waists and they can hold them here on shore. it will be better than taking a risk, using the old tires," he added, "and, while there isn't any current in the pool now, no telling what may happen." "sure you want the ropes," said old billee. "but you'd better take a tire for nort," and they did. "hold hard, nort!" called dick, as he and bud took off their clothes in preparation for the swim. "we're coming!" "i'll hold hard all right," came the answer back across the pool. "and there's something hard here to hold on to, all right." they did not then realize his meaning, but they understood, later, when they made a most amazing discovery. in a few minutes dick and bud were in the water, lariats held by those on "shore" tied around their waists; and the two boy ranchers were swimming toward the big rock in the middle of the pool. lanterns at the edge of this strange underground body of water gave sufficient light to enable the swimmers, and the others, to see nort now standing on the great boulder which emerged from the midst of the black water. it was the plan of bud and dick to help nort to swim back to where the others stood, they supporting him on either side. for though nort was a better swimmer than his brother, in his weakened condition, hit on the head as he had said, he might suddenly collapse. so also might bud and dick, or there might suddenly appear a swift current in the now quiet pool--that is, quiet beyond where the stream flowed in--and in that latter event the lariats would serve to pull them all to safety. "gee! i thought you were a goner!" gasped dick, as he climbed out and clasped his brother by the hand. "i would have been, only that i floated near this rock, and managed, half unconscious as i was, to grab hold of a projection and pull myself up," nort answered. "that water came up so fast it scared me, and i slipped right into it." "we saw you," said bud, sitting down on the rock to get his wind, so he might be at his best in helping nort on the return journey. "it was--awful!" spoke dick simply, and then he made no further reference to his mental agony. "well, are you ready to go back?" asked bud, after a pause, in which interim they had called to those across the pool that the lost lad was all right. "i'm ready, yes," was nort's answer. "but i'd sort of like to see what this hard lever-like object is." "oh, yes," spoke dick. "you said you had something hard to hold to. let's have a look--if we only had a light," he added, for it was quite dark on the great rock in the midst of the black pool. the light of the lanterns did not brightly penetrate that far. "i have some matches, in a waterproof case, if i didn't lose it out of my pocket," said nort, feeling in his soaking trousers. "here they are," he went on a moment later. and as his hands were drier than those of bud or dick, nort opened the box and managed, after one or two failures, to strike a light. as the little taper flared up the three boys on the rock saw, standing upright about in the centre of the large boulder a great handle, or lever, of copper. the metal gleamed dully red in the flickering light. "what is it?" asked bud, as nort struck another light. "i don't know," was the answer from nort. "i discovered it when i was crawling about and feeling around. i thought, if worst came to worst, i could hold to this if the waters rose." "they seem to be as high as they're going to get," said bud. "but this sure is queer! hold your match closer, nort." another of the tapers was lighted, and across the pool came the voice of snake purdee, asking what was going on. "there's some sort of a handle, or lever, here," answered bud, as he examined it more closely. "it moves, too," he added as he laid his hands on it and pulled it toward him. "look out!" cautioned dick, but it was too late. bud had pulled the copper lever toward him, and, in spite of its size and weight, it moved easily in what appeared to be a slot in the rock. it clicked slightly, as though connected with hidden mechanism. then, with a suddenness that was startling, a low but ever-increasing roar seemed to fill the cavern in which was the black pool. the roar grew louder and louder, and the very rock beneath their feet seemed to tremble. "what have you done?" gasped dick. "search me!" answered bud in such queer tones that nort laughed. and then a strange thing happened. as nort struck another match he and the boys on the rock could see the water all about them beginning to recede. slowly it flowed at first and then, with a rush, it began running out of the place as fast as it had run in. "what's up over there?" called the voice of old billee from "shore," so to speak. "what you fellers doin' with th' water?" "i just pulled that lever," sang out bud. "then you've done the trick!" said the old cowboy. "you must have opened some gate, and the water's running away. better swim over here while you have the chance. when the water comes back that rock may be covered!" but another strange part of their mysterious adventures was that they did not have to swim back. for the water receded so rapidly that, in a little while, it was possible to wade from the rock to the stone edge of the pool where the other members of the party stood. and wade back to their friends bud, dick and nort did. "oh, boy! but we're glad to see you!" cried old billee, as he caught nort by the hand. "you let out a mouthful that time!" declared yellin' kid, and his voice nearly split their ear drums, so magnified was it by the echoing, vaulted roof of the cavern. "but what all happened?" asked snake purdee. "is there some old mexican grain mill under here that has a water-wheel, sluices and gates?" "i give it up," answered bud. "all i know is that i pulled that copper lever--and it's copper so it won't rust off, i reckon--and the water began to rush out as fast as it must have come in here." "it is mighty queer," agreed old billee. "let's go take a look," and he started to walk across the intervening space between shore and the great rock--a space in which only a few puddles of water now remained. "will it be safe?" asked bud, who had begun to dress, an example followed by dick. "why not?" asked old billee. "the water can't rise any higher than it was when you fellows were on the rock. an', according to your tell, there's room enough for us all t' stand there." "yes, it's big enough," agreed bud. "but suppose we all get there, and the water begins to come back?" "we'll turn it loose again with th' lever," answered the old cow puncher. "but i reckon it can't fill up this pool again until that lever is shifted hack where it was before you yanked it." "maybe not," admitted bud. "well, let's take a chance. if worst comes to worst we can swim back, and i'd like to solve this mystery. i feel that we're getting at it now!" "that's right," said nort, who was feeling stronger every moment. "when i fell in, and was carried away," he said, "i had a wild notion that this might lead to the discovery of something. i managed to keep my head out of water as i was swept along, until i got a knock on the noodle, and that put me partly to sleep. that may have been a good thing, too, for they say a partly unconscious person doesn't breathe much, and that's why i didn't swallow any water to speak of. "i was dazed when i must have been swept, or floated, past that rock but i came to in time to save myself. gosh! but i was glad to hear you yell though, dick!" he said. "well, let's get over there an' start pryin' out this secret," suggested old billee. "this is gettin' mighty interestin'!" it seemed reasonable to suppose that the water would rise to no greater height than it had when the searchers had discovered nort on the rock. and as this boulder was well out of water, and large enough for them all to stand on, they would run no risk, even if the flood should start to return when they were in the middle of the pool, which, however, was a pool no longer, but merely a wet reservoir, so to speak. "but i don't believe the water will flow back here until you shift that lever again, bud," declared the old ranchman. "and i'm going to have a try at it!" "isn't it takin' a chance?" asked snake. "you got t' take chances in this world!" declared old billee. "well, let's go!" suggested bud. "i think i'll stay here," spoke nort. "i don't feel quite up to walking over those rocks. and you may need some one on this side who can throw a rope," he added, as he looked at the lariats. "all right," assented bud. "you stay here, nort." they left him on the shore, as i call the rocky edge of the pool, with a lantern, and, taking other lanterns with them, the little party set out. it took them only about three minutes to walk across to the great rock, which stood upright in the middle of the cavern floor. rising up in almost the very centre was the heavy, copper lever. by the light of the lanterns it was examined, and seen to extend down through the rock, whither no one knew. "it works a water gate all right," declared old billee. "let's pull it back to where you found it, bud, and see what happens." it was with some feelings of apprehension that the others watched as old billee reached for the copper lever and pulled it toward him, it operated as easily as it had for bud. and almost as quickly as had taken place on the other occasion, there was that roaring, rumbling sound, a noise as of the blowing of a great wind, and then the waters began to rush back into the pool. "here they come!" yelled dick, as he stood beside bud on the rock. truly the waters were returning as the hidden gate was closed when billee pulled the lever. would they go down again? that was what each one asked himself. chapter xxiii the conspirators rapidly rushing, foaming, bubbling and boiling, the waters rushed into the mysterious cavern, until they again filled the pool across which bud and dick had swam to the rescue of nort on the rock. now the situation was reversed. it was nort who was on the mainland, or shore, so to speak, and the others who were on the rock. but it was one of their own choosing, in an endeavor to solve the mystery, though as bud and his companions watched the waters creeping higher and higher up the surface of the rock on which they stood, their hearts were not altogether easy. "suppose it covers the rock?" asked dick. "then we'll have to swim back where nort is," bud answered. "shucks! you won't have to do nothin' of the sort!" declared old billee stoutly. "she won't come up any farther than it did before!" and he was right. when the water around the rock lapped the erosion mark, which had been worn in the hard stone by centuries of the flow of the fluid, the flood ceased. the roaring, bubbling and seething, like that which takes place in a canal lock, came to an end, and the water of the pool became quiet. "there! what'd i tell you?" cried old billee. "i closed th' water gate, that bud opened to let th' water out, an' she come back. now all we have t' do, so we can walk back, is t' yank this lever again." "does it only work two ways?" asked yellin' kid, his voice again softened, as the mystery of the place seemed to cast a shadow over him and the others. "seems to," bud answered, holding his lantern down close to where the copper handle entered the rock. there appeared to be a slot cut in the hard stone--a slot about three inches wide, and a foot long, in which the copper lever could be moved backward and forward, but not from side to side. "let's try the other way, now," suggested dick. once again old billee pulled on the copper shaft, which, as they could see by the light of all their lanterns combined, seemed to have been rudely hammered out, for it bore the rough marks of a primitive forge. and no sooner had the lever been pulled to its limit in the slot than there sounded again the rushing, roaring tumult of noises, and, after a little, the water began receding once more. "we've discovered the secret!" cried dick. "no, only part of it," said bud. "we've got to find where the water goes, and if pulling this lever sends it into our reservoir. that's the main thing to discover." "but we're on the track of part of it," went on dick. "i wonder who built this secret water gate, and the lever that operates it?" "it may be part of the work of the ancient mexicans, the old indians or the aztecs, who inhabited this land ages ago," said bud. "copper will last almost forever, you know, even in water, as it doesn't rust. and you've read how the ancient aztecs used to build great vaults under the mountain, and arrange to flood them to keep their gold away from the spaniards." "yes, i've read of that," admitted dick. "say, where can you get a book like that?" demanded old billee. "i've got one at the camp," bud answered. "i'll let you take it. of course my theory may be all wrong," he went on. "but i begin to believe we've stumbled on some ancient aztec water system." "you don't mean to say those old mexicans, for that's what the aztecs were, are still hanging around in this cave, turning your water on and off, do you?" demanded dick. "no, it's some one more modern who's making trouble for us," bud declared. "but we're on the track of a big discovery, i believe. look, the water is almost gone!" this was true. the pool was emptying itself as it had done before, and, in a short time they could walk back to where nort awaited them. "what's the next thing to do?" asked dick. "get back where we left our grub and feed our faces," suggested snake purdee. "yes, i think that will be best," bud said. "then we can talk over the next move. i begin to feel hungry." "i hope we won't be disappointed," remarked yellin' kid and his vocal powers seemed to be on the mend, for he called loudly. "disappointed? how?" asked old billee. "i mean i hope we find our grub where we left it," kid explained. "why wouldn't it be there?" old billee wanted to know. "do you think them hatchet-texts have sneaked in and took it?" "you mean aztecs?" laughed yellin' kid. "no, i wasn't referrin' to them. i mean i hope our monkeyin' with that copper handle didn't send the flood over the place where we left our things." "i never thought of that," said bud. "by zip foster! i hope nothing like that _has_ happened!" with anxious hearts they hastened back to the place where nort had been swept away. they had left the strange lever set to drain the pool, and what state of affairs they would find on returning to their point of digression no one could say. "maybe we'll find the water running on into flume valley," suggested nort, who seemed to be almost himself again, except for a feeling of weakness. "i hope so," spoke bud. but this was not the case. on reaching the place where the tunnel branched, they found no water there at all. none was running in the main channel, and none was turning off down the "stem of the t," to use the illustration i first employed. "keeps on being strange, doesn't it!" said bud. they all agreed with him. "what's the next move?" asked dick, as they gazed about, finding their food and supplies safe, and no water, to mention, anywhere about. "let's grub!" suggested snake. "and make a fire and heat the coffee," urged bud. "i don't believe the smoke will do any harm, and there's plenty of dry driftwood in the higher places, and on little ledges." "some hot coffee would go down mighty well!" remarked nort. "then you're going to have it!" asserted his cousin. they had brought some of the cold beverage along in tin flasks, and these were soon heating over a little blaze that was kindled along the bank of the underground stream that was again dry. the food and hot drink put new hearts into all of them, especially nort, and when appetites were appeased they gathered about the cheerful, if small, blaze, which gave off scarcely any smoke, and held a discussion. "what i think we had better do," said bud, "is to travel on until we come to the place--if such a place there is--where this stream again shunts off to the side. for i'm sure there is such a place if we find that the water is running into the tunnel from the river." "we can't be sure of that, though," old billee said. "no, but we can find out when we get to the other end of the tunnel," declared bud. "my idea is--though, of course, i might be wrong--that there are two side passages, so to speak. sometimes the water branches off the main channel and fills the pool where we found nort on the rock. then it may flow down another channel, farther on, but nearer to the river end of the tunnel." "but if the water came along the main channel, until it got here, and then filled the pool to the limit, as was evidently the case," suggested nort, "why wouldn't the water then back up and go on to our reservoir--and it didn't do that." "there may be some outlet from that pool and cavern where we were," said bud. they considered this for a moment, and agreed that he might be right. "then what we've got to look for," went on bud, "is another side passage where the water is shunted off, that is, providing it is not cut off at the river pipe. and if there is such a passage it must be on the right-hand side of the stream, as was the one where nort fell in. for we went all along the left-hand bank the other time, and didn't discover anything." "and suppose we find the second branch stream now--what will we do?" asked snake. "two of us will come back and work the lever, while the others stay at the second stream to see what happens," was bud's answer. "come on; let's go!" they put out the fire, packed their belongings, and, making sure that nort was able to travel, they set out again. nort's garments were soaking wet, or, rather, they had been, but there was a current of warm air in the tunnel, and soon he began to dry out, for which he was very thankful. they found the second branching stream sooner than they expected. it was less than a quarter of a mile from the first, or the one into which nort had fallen, and it was almost of exactly the same character. "look out! here it is!" cried bud who saw it first, his lantern gleaming on the swiftly-rushing water. "go easy!" and "easy" they went, reaching the edge of the ledge below which flowed the mysterious, powerful current. "we can go along here, just as we did before. here's another branch tunnel!" announced dick, holding up his lantern, and showing a wide, high passage, the bottom and middle part of which was occupied by the stream. "i wonder how many of them there are?" remarked nort as he and the others turned into the black opening, which seemed to slope as though descending a hill. this gave greater force to this stream of water. "and i wonder if it also runs into a cavern, with a rock and a copper lever in the middle!" voiced dick. "hope we find out soon," spoke bud. "this is getting more and more queer all the while." they tramped on in the blackness that was relieved only by their swaying lanterns. they walked beside the strange, underground stream, and they had progressed farther than along the other branching body of water when old billee, who was ahead just then, suddenly halted and uttered a warning. "listen!" "what is it?" asked yellin' kid, in his usual tones, but billee reached back and gave him such a dig in the ribs that kid subsided with a grunt. "i hear talkin'!" whispered billee. "voices! there's some one else in this place than us! listen!" they stopped and strained their sense of hearing. and then, above the slithering murmur of the water, they all distinctly heard a voice say: "i think we've fixed 'em this time! they won't steal any more water from pocut river!" the boy ranchers looked at each other. "del pinzo!" whispered nort. "as sure as zip foster ever ate ham and eggs!" agreed bud. "hush!" begged old billee. and as they became quiet again they heard another voice say: "i guess it's all up with 'em now. we might as well light out and touch off the fuse!" "whew!" softly whistled bud. together the party of searchers moved softly forward. suddenly the passage along the bank of the mysterious stream turned sharply, almost at a right angle. and there, in what appeared to be a small cave, excavation or cavern, high in the upper wall was disclosed a roughly circular opening, like a window or port hole. through this port hole a light showed, and outlined in the light were several rough-appearing men, leaning together over what might have been a table. "del pinzo!" murmured dick. "conspirators!" exclaimed bud. "they're the ones that's been turning this water on and off! we're on the track of the mystery now!" whether he spoke loudly enough to be heard, or whether some other sound made by the searchers alarmed the men in the upper niche, was not disclosed just then. but the light suddenly went out, and confused sounds followed. and chief among these sounds was the rushing, roaring noise, the blowing as of a mighty wind, and the water near the boy ranchers and their companions was strangely agitated. chapter xxiv a powerful stream "better look out!" came the high-pitched voice of yellin' kid. "there may be a flood here!" added old billee. "can't we get those rascals?" cried snake purdee. "i'd 'a' had th' drop on 'em in another second if they hadn't doused that glim!" as he spoke they could all hear the rush of iron-nailed shoes when the wearers of them scrambled over hard rocks in their effort to escape. mingled with that sound was the strange one of rushing water. realizing that danger might come to them more through the agency of the strangely-acting underground stream than from the actions of the conspirators, bud and nort flashed their lanterns on the water-course behind them and around the bend which they had turned to behold the strange scene. "it's going down!" cried bud, for there was no longer any advantage in concealment or silence, as long as del pinzo and the others had fled. "it's receding!" "just as the other did!" added dick. "they must have opened a gate here and let the water out!" "they've done something!" cried bud, "and we've got to find out what it is." "did you hear that about a fuse?" demanded snake. "maybe they're going to blow the place up!" "if they do, and the tunnel caves in, good-bye to my water!" said bud. "yes, and good-night to _us_!" grimly added old billee. "come on!" cried yellin' kid. "let's see what's up there in that hole in the wall, anyhow!" "and have your guns ready!" warned snake purdee. however, as it developed, the weapons were not needed. when the boy ranchers and their friends managed to scramble up the rocky way, above and to the right of the second hidden, branching stream, and found themselves in what was virtually a little natural recess hollowed out of the rocky wall, they saw that it was deserted. but there were plain evidences of the fact that the men they had seen had fled in a hurry, as, indeed, they had practically witnessed. playing cards, cigarettes, tobacco and bottles were scattered on a rude wooden table, and there were several candle-ends stuck in the necks of flasks. the smell of the extinguished candles was heavy on the air. "but where did they go?" asked bud, when a hasty glance around the rocky room disclosed no occupants. "what's that?" asked dick, pointing to what seemed to be a hole in the floor at one corner. "it's a passage!" cried billee, holding his lantern above it. "an' big enough, even for me! i'm going down!" "will it be safe?" asked nort. "it may lead into the stream, or to where they have planted a mine--they spoke of a fuse----" "you've got to take chances in times like these!" declared old billee. "i guess if they went down it will suit us." "unless they can close it up, or turn water in," suggested snake, dubiously. "git out! i'm going down!" stoutly declared the rather fleshy veteran cow puncher, and when he let himself down the hole the others followed. there was a natural stairway, or what served the same purpose, leading down out of the stone room where the conspirators had been evidently plotting so far underground. the passage went down, at first, like a flight of steep, cellar stairs. then it straightened out, and, after twists and turns, led upward. "where are we going?" asked nort. "nobody knows!" grimly answered bud. "but it's safe so far!" "and we're right on their trail!" added snake. "how do you know?" asked billee. for answer snake paused and pointed to a smouldering cigarette stub on the rocky floor of the passage that had led out of the conspirators' niche. "that wasn't dropped many minutes ago," declared the cowboy. "they came along here." this was evident, but it was also evident that del pinzo and his conspirators were sufficiently in advance to escape. for, with another sudden turn, the passage led to another natural, rocky stairway, and when this had been mounted the boy ranchers found themselves again in the main tunnel. "what's this?" cried bud, when it was evident that they had come back to the place whence they had started, but farther on, and nearer to the river end of the tunnel. "this is a regular maze!" "but where is del pinzo?" asked dick. "out there, i fancy," and nort pointed to where the main tunnel extended under the mountain and beyond, to the dam in pocut river. "they've gotten away!" "and about time, too!" added snake, "or they'd be trapped as we may be!" "trapped!" cried old billee. "what do you mean?" "i mean there's a mine set here, somewhere! don't you smell powder smoke?" a sharp, acrid odor, once smelled never forgotten, came to the nostrils of all as they stood there in the tunnel, while the stream flowed beside them. whatever the conspirators had done, they had, evidently, not shut off all the water. "there it is!" cried dick, and he pointed to where, in the light of the lanterns, there could be seen, slowly ascending, a thin wisp of smoke. "look out!" yelled old billee as dick dashed forward. "it may explode!" then, as dick rushed up with his lantern, they saw trailing over the floor of the tunnel, and on the same side of the stream as themselves, a thin white fuse, like a sinister snake. it was this burning fuse which caused the smoke. it was the work of but an instant for dick to step on it, and extinguish the smouldering spark, while it yet had some distance to travel before the fuse lost itself in a mass of rocks. "whew! that was a close call!" exclaimed. bud, when the fuse was entirely out. "let's see where it leads to," suggested snake. they followed it up, and discovered a hidden mine of explosives, tamped down into a hole that had been drilled in the rocky floor. iron bars, hammers and other mining implements showed that the perpetrators of the dastardly deed had evidently fled in a hurry. "they were going to blow up the tunnel!" cried nort. "and when that collapsed it would mean the end of flume valley," spoke bud soberly. "we never could have opened the tunnel again, with all these strange, branching streams playing around inside." "but we reached here just in time!" declared old billee. "now let's get t' th' bottom of this. we know there's a main stream, an' two branching streams. one of th' branching streams is controlled by th' water gate with th' copper handle." "and there must be another gate here, or else del pinzo and his crowd couldn't have shut off the water as they did before they ran away," went on bud. "there must be a whole maze of water-courses in this old tunnel. probably the aztecs dug 'em to save their gold and other valuables. but i'd like to know what that roaring is?" and as bud and the others listened they could hear a subdued murmur, a rumbling and roaring sound, that seemed to shake the whole tunnel near where they stood. "maybe this leads to it," suggested dick, as he walked along and suddenly flashed his lantern across another opening--a natural stairway leading down into black depths. "let's try it," said bud. down it they went, one at a time, carrying their lanterns. and as they advanced, descending until they came to a level passage, the murmur and roaring became louder. "would you look at that!" suddenly cried. bud, in an awe-stricken voice, as he came to a stop and pointed ahead. and then, as the others gathered about him and looked, they saw a wondrous sight. they had entered a cavern, similar to the one where nort had been found, but not so large. and from the very centre, it appeared, of the uneven rocky floor of the cave there spouted out a stream of water about three inches in diameter. solid white was this stream of water, like a bar of glass, and it shot out of a round hole in the floor as a stream comes from the nozzle of a fire hose. it was inclined at an angle of about forty-five degrees, was this strange stream of water, and whence it came and whither it went to the boys and their friends could only guess. it was this powerful, rushing stream, under immense head and power it seemed, that caused the rumbling, roaring sound. it appeared to strike against some rocky wall a long distance off, so far that the light of the lanterns could not penetrate to it, and the searchers did not feel like venturing beyond the point where the terrific stream issued. that it was of awful power was evidenced a moment later, for bud, who had picked up one of the bars of iron, used by the conspirators to set their sinister mine, approached the stream and, raising the bar, brought it down with all his force on the white, spurting jet. on an instant the heavy rod was torn from his grasp, and whirled forward into the blackness beyond. there was a ringing, metallic sound as it hit some distant rock, and then it came bounding back, sliding across the rocky floor to the very feet of the searchers. "look at that!" murmured bud, as he stooped and picked up the bar. it was bent and twisted into a sort of combined s and u shape, mute evidence of the terrific power of the stream. "that would bore right through a man!" said dick. "like making a hole in cheese!" added old billee. "this is a terrible place! let's get out!" chapter xxv happy valley leaving behind them the roaring, rumbling jet of white water that came from the unknown and went thitherward, the boy ranchers and their friends made their way back to the main tunnel. "well, there are two things we have to settle," declared bud, when they had sat down on convenient rocks, near the running stream, and began to consider matters. "what are they?" asked "nort. "one is, what effect has the turning of that lever we worked on the main stream? the other is, where is the lever that del pinzo and his gang shifted to cause this second branch stream to stop running?" "and when we find answers to those two questions," said dick, "i think we'll have solved the mystery." "right!" cried bud. "so let's get at them. in the first place some of us will go back and shift the lever on the big rock in the first cave, while some of us stay here to see what happens." the party was divided and when watches had been adjusted to mark the same time, so it might be known how many minutes elapsed between the shifting of the lever and any noticeable effect, dick, old billee and snake went to the first cave--that of the huge boulder. it did not take long to demonstrate that when the water flowed from the main stream into that side branch, the stream nearer the river end of the tunnel went dry. but even with that no water passed along the main tunnel so that it would flow into the reservoir of flume valley. "the water must flow out of the first big cave by some outlet we know nothing about," decided bud. "now we'll look for the second water gate." they found the lever that controlled this in a corner of the upper, rocky room where del pinzo and his conspirators had been plotting when discovered. and when this lever was pulled from the position in which the seekers found it after the mexican half-breed fled, the second stream (by which i mean the one nearest the river end of the tunnel) filled with water. but this did not affect the first. and not until both levers were set at positions which caused the branch streams to empty, did any water fill the end of the tunnel near bud's ranch. but when this had been done; when the secret of working the levers was discovered, and water was once again flowing along the valley end of the tunnel, where the stream bed had been dry for two days, then bud cried: "the fight is over and we've won!" "i wouldn't say that yet," spoke old billee cautiously, "del pinzo an' hank fisher are still around an' above ground. but i guess you've put a crimp in 'em, boys!" "i reckon!" shouted yellin' kid. "but are we sure that the water now goes to flume valley?" "we'll soon find out," declared bud. "we're almost out of the tunnel now, and we can 'phone back and ask." and a little later they did emerge from the mysterious underground tunnel, with its still stranger water courses. but what was their surprise to find that night had fallen--in fact it was not exactly night, but nearly morning of the next day. for a moment coming out into the dark night bewildered them. and then, as they stood at the mouth of the mysterious tunnel under the mountain, there was a sharp crack. "look out!" yelled bud, as a bullet "zinged" viciously over their heads. in an instant old billee had whipped out his gun and sent a shot toward a group of horsemen along the river bank. "there they are! del pinzo and his gang!" yelled dick, as another bullet sang over his head. "come on! let's get 'em!" "no use!" drawled snake. "they've got hosses--we ain't!" and a moment later the gang of conspirators, firing another harmless shot, swept out of view. a group of men swarmed from the store and adjacent shacks, roused by the early-morning shooting, and with amazement they greeted our friends and heard the strange story. "what day is it?" asked bud. "friday," some one answered. the mystery-solvers looked at one another in amazement. they had been in the tunnel nearly forty-eight hours without sleep, nor did they feel the need of it, so exciting were the events that transpired. but late, or, rather, early as it was, they managed to get in the store to use the telephone. and when the gray dawn was breaking across pocut river, bud learned, over the wire, from one of his father's cowboys left at flume valley, that the reservoir was again being filled. "hurray! it's all right!" yelled bud, almost as loudly as the kid would have done. "i guess, from now on, we'll have no trouble. but i'm going to see if we can't get del pinzo. he and his gang certainly tried to blow up the place, and us with it." "to say nothing of trying, as i believe, to drown, us like rats in there, by shutting off and turning on those queer streams," added nort. "do you think they really meant to drown us or blow us up?" asked dick. that question was never answered, for del pinzo and his more intimate associates disappeared after their flight from the tunnel, when they fled following the shifting of the lever and the lighting of the fuse. there was dynamite tamped in among the rocks, and but for the stamping out of the fuse the tunnel never would have carried any more water to flume valley, and those in it might never have come out. hank fisher stoutly denied that del pinzo was acting for him either in planting the explosives or in shutting off the water from the reservoir of the boy ranchers. but everyone had their suspicions. for that it was del pinzo who had sent, or caused to be sent the mysterious warnings, no one doubted. nor did anyone doubt but that the vicious mexican half-breed had played tricks with the water. for that is what they amounted to--tricks. who built the copper-lever-controlled water gates, putting them in to utilize the winding underground streams, no one could tell. it may have been the aztecs. the powerful, slanting stream of water, it was discovered, formed the outlet of the shunted-in-river stream when the two side channels were opened so that flume valley's water supply was cut off. the water gates and the underground streams formed the chief mystery, and these never could be fully explored. it was thought too dangerous. how del pinzo discovered the workings of the levers, utilizing them to try to end the rule of the boy ranchers in flume valley, was not disclosed for many years. "you won't have any further trouble, now that the gates are closed and the levers taken off," mr. merkel said, for that had been done. "you'll get all the water you want in flume valley." "guess i'll call it happy valley," said bud, "for everything is coming out right, now." "in spite of black rabbits!" chuckled old billee. "yes, even with black jacks!" laughed bud. "everything is working fine, now." and so it was. for with the discovery of the secret water gates and the disappearance of del pinzo, the epidemic died away. though this, of course, was due to the arrest of pocut pete. that scoundrel was found guilty and sentenced to a long term in prison. but he kept his counsel, and never actually confessed that it was hank fisher who set him to this dastardly trick--if, indeed, it was that unscrupulous ranchman of double z. that it was rustlers from double z who had tried to drive off some of the boy ranchers' cattle was not doubted, the finding of the branding iron being regarded as telltale evidence. but this was not enough to cause any arrests. "well, what are we going to do next?" asked dick, of his brother and cousin, when they were fishing in the reservoir one evening, as, with the closing of the hidden gates and the uninterrupted flow of the water, many more finny prizes could be hooked. "get ready for a big shipment of cattle," said bud. "i never saw any finer stock than we have here in happy valley. that's our next move--reap the benefits of our hard work." but the lads did more than that. and those of you who wish to follow their fortunes further may do go in the next volume of this series, which will be called: "the boy ranchers on the trail; or diamond x after cattle rustlers." "who's that down at camp?" asked dick, as he pulled up a good-sized fish and put it beside him on the grass. "looks like nell and your mother," said nort to bud. "it is!" bud cried. "they said they'd come over, and nell promised to bring a pie! come on; we got enough fish!" and down the reservoir rushed the boy ranchers to greet their visitors. "any pie, nell?" cried bud. "sure," was the answer. "but it's for company--dick and nort!" "ho! i'd like to see 'em grab it all!" challenged bud, as he reached for the basket his sister held. "by zip foster i would!" "say, who is zip foster anyhow?" demanded nort. "oh, i'll tell you--later!" chuckled bud, and, as he removed the cover of the basket, delighted "oh!" and "ah!" exclamations came from him and his cousins at the sight within. some of the cowboys came riding back to camp from the round-up, old billee cheerfully chanting: "oh, bury me deep on th' lone prairie!" and with this happy mingling of the joyful and sad we will take leave of the boy ranchers for a time. the end the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full colors._ _stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._ . the boy ranchers _or solving the mystery at diamond x_ two eastern boys visit their cousin. they become involved in an exciting mystery. . the boy ranchers in camp _or the water fight at diamond x_ returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn with delight, that they are to become boy ranchers. . the boy ranchers on the trail _or the diamond x after cattle rustlers_ our boy heroes take the trail after del pinzo and his outlaws. . the boy ranchers among the indians _or trailing the yaquis_ rosemary and floyd are captured by the yaqui indians but the boy ranchers trailed them into the mountains and effected the rescue. . the boy ranchers at spur creek _or fighting the sheep herders_ dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights brings out heroic adventures. . the boy ranchers in the desert _or diamond x and the lost mine_ one night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship arrived at the bunk house. the boys cared for him and he told them of the lost desert mine. . the boy ranchers on roaring river _or diamond x and the chinese smugglers_ the boy ranchers help capture delton's gang who were engaged in smuggling chinese across the border. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. the webster series by frank v. webster mr. webster's style is very much like that of the boys' favorite author, the late lamented horatio alger, jr., but his tales are thoroughly up-to-date. _cloth. mo. over pages each. illustrated. stamped in various colors._ only a farm boy _or dan hardy's rise in life_ the boy from the ranch _or roy bradner's city experiences_ the young treasure hunter _or fred stanley's trip to alaska_ the boy pilot of the lakes _or nat morton's perils_ tom the telephone boy _or the mystery of a message_ bob the castaway _or the wreck of the eagle_ the newsboy partners _or who was dick box!_ two boy gold miners _or lost in the mountains_ the young firemen of lakeville _or herbert dare's pluck_ the boys of bellwood school _or frank jordan's triumph_ jack the runaway _or on the road with a circus_ bob chester's grit _or from ranch to riches_ airship andy _or the luck of a brave boy_ high school rivals _or fred markham's struggles_ darry the life saver _or the heroes of the coast_ dick the bank boy _or a missing fortune_ ben hardy's flying machine _or making a record for himself_ harry watson's high school day _or the rivals of rivertown_ comrades of the saddle _or the young rough riders of the plains_ tom taylor at west point _or the old army officer's secret_ the boy scouts of lennox _or hiking over big bear mountain_ the boys of the wireless _or a stirring rescue from the deep_ cowboy dave _or the round-up at rolling river_ jack of the pony express _or the young rider of the mountain trail_ the boys of the battleship _or for the honor of uncle sam_ cupples & leon co., publishers. new york. the jewel series by ames thompson _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in colors._ _a series of stories brimming with hardy adventure, vivid and accurate in detail, and with a good foundation of probability. they take the reader realistically to the scene of action. besides being lively and full of real situations, they are written in a straight-forward way very attractive to boy readers._ . the adventure boys and the valley of diamonds malcolm edwards and his son ralph are adventurers with ample means for following up their interest in jewel clues. in this book they form a party of five, including jimmy stone and bret hartson, boys of ralph's age, and a shrewd level-headed sailor named stanley greene. they find a valley of diamonds in the heart of africa. . the adventure boys and the river of emeralds the five adventurers, staying at a hotel in san francisco, find that pedro the elevator man has an interesting story of a hidden, "river of emeralds" in peru, to tell. with him as guide, they set out to find it, escape various traps set for them by jealous peruvians, and are much amused by pedro all through the experience. . the adventure boys and the lagoon of pearls this time the group starts out on a cruise simply for pleasure, but their adventuresome spirits lead them into the thick of things on a south sea cannibal island. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. the bomba books by roy rockwood _ mo. cloth. illustrated. with colored jacket._ _bomba lived far back in the jungles of the amazon with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. the jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. he had a primitive education in some things, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._ . bomba the jungle boy _or the old naturalist's secret_ in the depth of the jungle bomba lives a life replete with thrilling situations. once he saves the lives of two american rubber hunters who ask him who he is, and how he had come into the jungle. he sets off to solve the mystery of his identity. . bomba the jungle boy at the moving mountain _or the mystery of the caves of fire_ bomba travels through the jungle, encountering wild beasts and hostile natives. at last he trails the old man of the burning mountain to his cave and learns more concerning himself. . bomba the jungle boy at the giant cataract _or chief nascanora and his captives_ from the moving mountain bomba travels to the giant cataract, still searching out his parentage. among the pilati indians he finds some white captives, and an aged opera singer who is the first to give bomba real news of his forebears. . bomba the jungle boy on jaguar island _or adrift on the river of mystery_ jaguar island was a spot as dangerous as it was mysterious and bomba was warned to keep away. but the plucky boy sallied forth and met adventures galore. . bomba the jungle boy in the abandoned city _or a treasure ten thousand years old_ years ago this great city had sunk out of sight beneath the trees of the jungle. a wily half-breed and his tribe thought to carry away its treasure of gold and precious stones. bomba follows. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. [transcriber's note: extensive research found no evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [illustration: cover art] [frontispiece: snake caught hold of the animal's left horn. "the boy ranchers at spur creek."] the boy ranchers at spur creek or _fighting the sheep herders_ by willard f. baker _illustrated_ new york cupples & leon company the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker mo. cloth. frontispiece the boy ranchers or solving the mystery at diamond x the boy ranchers in camp or the water fight at diamond x the boy ranchers on the trail or the diamond x after cattle rustlers the boy ranchers among the indians or on the trail of the yaquis the boy ranchers at spur creek or fighting the sheep herders cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by cupples & leon company the boy ranchers at spur creek printed in u. s. a. contents chapter i shots in the night ii missing papers iii on the trail iv around the campfire v at spur creek vi the alarm vii a parley viii suspicions ix a call for help x del pinzo's hand xi cowboy fun xii after the rustlers xiii a cloud of dust xiv the sheep arrive xv a battle of wits xvi strange actions xvii "we crowed too soon!" xviii skirmishes xix open warfare xx the flag of truce xxi a legal contest xxii nort's plan xxiii in disguise xxiv the brontotherium xxv the end of the sheep the boy ranchers at spur creek chapter i shots in the night with a rattle and a clatter the muddy flivver stopped with a squeak of brakes in front of diamond x ranch house. from the car leaped three boys, one of them carrying a small leather pouch. "here's the mail!" yelled this lad--bud merkel by name, and his cousins, nort and dick shannon, added the duet of their voices to his as they cried: "mail's in! lots of letters!" "any for me?" asked nell, reaching out her hand toward bud. "don't tell me there isn't!" she pleaded. "well, i'm sorry, sis," began bud, teasingly, "there was one for you, but driving in we ran over a rattler and----" "don't you believe him, nell!" consoled nort, who didn't altogether agree with bud's teasing of his sister. "your letters are safe in the pouch." "oh, there are _letters_, then, are there--not just _one_?" cried nell with shining eyes. "thanks a whole lot." "don't thank me--thank the postmaster--or whoever wrote you the letters!" laughed nort. bud had sat down on a bench outside the ranch house and was opening the mail pouch. his mother came to the door of the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands, for though mrs. merkel kept a "hired girl," and though nell assisted, yet the mother of bud insisted on doing much of the work herself, and very able she was, too. "any letters for your father?" she asked. "two or three," answered bud, as he looked over the envelopes. "and one for you, mother." "well, take your father's mail to him when you've finished sorting," suggested mrs. merkel. "he said he was expecting something of importance. you'll find him over in the bunk house looking after mr. watson." "mr. _watson_!" shouted bud with a laugh. "do you mean yellin' kid?" "oh, i guess that's what you call him," assented mrs. merkel as she opened her letter. "but his name's watson." "guess you're the only one who remembers that, ma," chuckled dick shannon, for though mrs. merkel was only his aunt, she was almost universally called "ma" on the ranch of diamond x. "yellin' kid isn't any worse, is he?" asked bud. "oh, no, but your father wanted to change the bandages and it takes some time. you'll find him pretty nearly finished, i guess, though you'd better take his mail to him there." there had been a slight accident the week before, in which the horse of yellin' kid had crowded him against a post in a corral fence, badly bruising and cutting the leg of the cowboy. a doctor had been called, and after the first dressing of the wound had said mr. merkel or some of the men could attend to it as much as was necessary, and the ranch owner was now in performance of this duty. "i'll take the boys' mail, bud," offered old billee, one of the veteran cow punchers of diamond x. "don't reckon you got any for me, have you?" he asked with a sort of wistful hope in his voice. "sorry, billee, but there doesn't seem to be any," answered bud. "better luck next time." "no, i don't reckon there will be," sighed old billee. "all my friends is dead an' gone, an' nobody else wants t' write t' an ole timer like me." he took the letters destined for the other cowboys who were engaged in various duties about the ranch, saying he would distribute them, while bud took those destined for his father to the sleeping quarters of the men, where yellin' kid was forced to remain temporarily in his bunk. nort and dick had letters from "home," as they called their residence in the east, though they had been west so long now that they might almost be said to live on the ranch. and while bud's cousins were going over their missives, mr. merkel was doing the same with those his son handed him. "how are you, kid?" asked bud of the injured cowboy as mr. merkel sat at a table tearing open the various envelopes. "oh, i'll be up and around again shortly," was the answer. "if you figure on starting off after any more indians i could get ready in about two quivers of a steer's nose." "guess there won't be any more indians around here for a while," observed bud. "we taught those yaquis a lesson." "now you're shoutin'!" exclaimed yellin' kid, though it was he, rather than bud, who spoke in a loud voice--hence the kid's name. he just couldn't seem to speak in ordinary tones, but appeared to take it for granted that every one was deaf, and so shouted at them. suddenly the quiet reading and attention that mr. merkel had been giving his letters was broken as he jumped up, scattering the papers to the floor of the bunk house. he held in his hand a single sheet that seemed to cause him great surprise, not to say anger, and he exclaimed: "well, it's come, just as i feared it would! now we're in for some hot times!" "what's the matter, dad?" asked bud, looking toward the door in which his cousins now stood, having finished reading their letters. "not another indian uprising, is it?" asked bud. "almost as bad!" his father answered. "we're going to have trouble. i might have known things were too good to last!" "what sort of trouble?" inquired nort. "with sheep herders," answered mr. merkel. "sheep herders!" cried bud, and if you know anything about the cattle business you will realize his tone of voice. for, as i will explain later, sheep herders are hated and despised by cattle men and horse breeders alike, and with good reason, in spite of the rights the sheep men have. "what do you mean?" asked bud, fully alive to the danger implied by his father's words. "there isn't a sheep within a hundred miles of here, thank goodness!" "no, but there soon will be," said mr. merkel grimly. "what makes you say that?" and bud clearly showed his fear and interest. "here's an official notice," his father said, waving the paper in his hand. "it just came in the mail yon brought. the government announces that it has thrown open to the public the old indian lands bordering on spur creek, and it won't be a month before the place is over-run with mexicans, greasers, and worse, with their stinking sheep! pah! it makes me sick, after all the work we've done at diamond x to have it spoiled this way! but i'm not going to sit back and stand it! i'm going to fight!" "that's right, dad! i'm with you! i'll fight, too! won't we, fellows?" he appealed to nort and dick. "sure we will!" was their answer. and it was, in a way, as much their battle as it was that of mr. merkel and his son. for bud, nort and dick had a small ranch of their own in happy valley, not far from the main holdings at diamond x. "but why do you think we'll be over-run with sheep just because they've opened up the indian lands?" asked nort. "it just naturally follows," his uncle answered. "every low-down onery sheep man for a hundred miles around has had his eyes on these lands for the last five years, waiting for uncle sam to put 'em in the open market. now the government has finally paid the indians' claims and those fellows at washington have decided to make it a free-for-all-race." "well, in that case," said bud, "can't you and the other cattlemen around here jump in and claim the land so there won't be any danger of the sheep men coming in?" "well, there's just one hitch," answered mr. merkel. "i said it was a free and open race, but it isn't--exactly. ranchmen who own more than a certain amount of acreage, grazing ground and range, are barred from taking any of this indian land." "but there may be enough good cattle men and horse breeders who will take up all the claims and so shut out the sheep," suggested nort. "that might happen, but i haven't told you all," said his uncle. "you see boundary lines out here are pretty uncertain. in some places there never has been a survey made. so not only may the sheep men jump in and claim the indian land that the government has opened, but they'll over-run land that we now use for grazing cattle and horses. and i needn't tell you that once sheep have been on land it's ruined for my business." this was very true, and though nort and dick had once been in the "tenderfoot" class, they had learned of the deep-seated hatred that existed on the part of a cattle man against a sheep owner. there is a real reason for this. horses and cattle in the west just naturally hate sheep. it may be that the cattle and horses recognize that the sheep is such a greedy eater that he practically cleans off the grass down to the very roots, whereas a steer or horse leaves enough of the herbage to grow for the next time. then, too, the strong smell of sheep seems to annoy horses and cattle. often a bunch of steers or a herd of horses will stampede and run for miles, merely after getting a whiff of the odor from a bunch of sheep. they will even do this if, in grazing, they come to a place where sheep have been eating. and if sheep wade through a creek the odor of their oily wool seems to remain for days, and horses and cattle refuse to drink, unless almost dying of thirst. so much for the animals themselves, and because of this there was unending war between the horses and cattle on one side, and sheep on the other. though it cannot be said that the meek sheep did any fighting. they never stampeded because they had to drink from streams where cows and horses had watered, nor did they refuse to nibble grass left by the larger animals. aside from the fact that the horse breeders and cattle men were pioneers on the old open range, and naturally resented the coming of the lowly sheep herders, there is another reason for the hatred. sheep, as i have said, nibble the grass to its very roots. and then the small and sharp feet of the sheep cut into the turf and so chop what few roots that are left as to prevent a new crop of grass from growing--the fodder dies off. and as the sheep are kept constantly on the march, as they greedily eat their way, they spread ruin--at least so the ranchmen thought. so it was and had been war. "this is bad news--bad news!" muttered mr. merkel. "we ranchers will have to get together and talk it over. we've got to do something! i want to talk to tom ogden." he was the owner of circle t ranch, and a friend of mr. merkel. "shall i go for him in the flivver?" asked bud, for since the advent of the little car he and his cousins often journeyed in it, leaving their horses in the corral. though there were places where only a horse could be used, and of course for cattle work no cowboy would think of anything but of being in the saddle. "no, thank you. i'll call him on the wire," said mr. merkel. "i'll have him bring some of the other ranchers over. we've got to act quickly." "when does the land-grabbing start?" asked dick. "it's open now--has been for the last two weeks. this notice is late," said mr. merkel, looking at the paper in his hand. "even now some of the sheep men may be coming up from the mexican border. we've got to do something mighty sudden!" seldom had bud and his cousins seen mr. merkel so moved, and the boys realized from this the grave danger. that evening a number of wealthy and influential ranch owners gathered at diamond x to talk the situation over. as cattle men in a small way, the boy ranchers, as they were called, were allowed to "sit in" on the conference. "the worst of it for me," said mr. merkel, "is that the range where i breed my best steers is near this spur creek tract, and the sheep will naturally over-run my feeding ground." "can't you fence it in?" asked mr. ogden. "too late for that now; it would take weeks to get the wire here, and some of those onery sheep men wouldn't mind cutting the strands, anyhow. it only takes one night for a band of sheep to ruin a good many miles of pasture. no, what we've got to do is to fight 'em from the start--not let 'em get there." "we'll take up the land ourselves!" exclaimed henry small. "can't, hen," objected mr. merkel. "we all own our full share now, and maybe a little more. of course, when you look at it from a legal standpoint a sheep man has just as many rights under the government as we have. but not by custom or western ways." "not by a long shot!" cried the other ranchmen. "i hope your papers are all straight," observed mr. ogden to bud's father. "what papers?" "your deeds and documents that give you the right to land on this side of spur creek. if there's a legal question the sheep men may try to jump some of your claims." "oh, i guess not," said mr. merkel easily. "my papers are all in my safe, and i can prove title by them easily enough. but, gentlemen, what are we going to do? that's the question now. what are we going----" mr. merkel never finished that sentence. for he was interrupted by a fusillade of shots just outside--shots in the night. an instant later every man in the conference room, and the boy ranchers included, had leaped to his feet, and many hands sought the "guns" that were within easy reach. "some of your cowboys disporting themselves?" asked mr. ogden of the owner of diamond x. mr. merkel shook his head. "nothing like that," he remarked. some one yelled--there were more shots and then the voice of slim degnan, foreman of the ranch, was heard shouting: "get after 'em, boys! head 'em off!" "it's a stampede!" yelled bud. "come on, fellows!" chapter ii missing papers nort and dick lost no time following their cowboy cousin, bud, outside the ranch house, and each of the three lads, as well as mr. merkel and his associates, had caught up one of the heavy revolvers that were never far from their hands. for, as has been said of the west, a man doesn't always need a gun out there, but when he does need it, he needs it "mighty bad and mighty sudden." the boy ranchers were taking no chances. "what's the matter, slim?" asked bud as he rushed outside and saw a group of cowboys near the foreman. they were vaulting to the saddles of their horses which had hurriedly been turned out of the home corral. "rustlers!" cried nort. "is it rustlers, slim?" "might be, for all i can tell," was the answer. "i saw some men riding along out there, and when i called to know who they were they didn't answer, which was suspicious in itself. then i told 'em to stop until i could get a look at 'em, but they turned and made off, and that was worse, so i fired a couple of times after 'em." "where are they now?" asked dick. "that's what we're going to find out; son," was the foreman's grim answer. "you there, babe?" he called to his fat assistant, who rejoiced in the diminutive nickname. "all there is of me," was the sighing answer. "stand still there, you slab-sided chunk of salt pork!" he called to his horse, which was nervously swerving about. and babe milton was too heavy to be a quick mounter. he needed special attention on the part of his steed. "let's go, fellows!" cried bud to his cousins, and, not waiting for the permission of mr. merkel, the lads saddled their horses and started after the foreman and his cowboys who had gotten a flying start. "what do you imagine it is?" asked nort as he rode between his brother and cousin, while they urged their steeds on to catch up to those ahead of them. "haven't any idea," answered bud, glancing back to note that his father and the visiting ranchmen had gone into the house. probably mr. merkel and the others knew the matter could safely be left to the cowboys. bud and his cousins rode fleet ponies, and they were more than at home in their saddles, so it did not take them long to reach the bunch of cowboys riding across the plains ahead of them, on the trail of the mysterious night visitors. "any idea who they were, slim?" asked bud, guiding his horse alongside that of the foreman. "not the least in the world. but they're up to no good or they wouldn't have veered off at the first hail. there's something suspicious in that." "i should say so," agreed nort. "couldn't be any sheep herders coming so soon, to turn their nibblers on our land; could it?" dick wanted to know. he spoke of "our land," for he and his brother owned a small ranch in partnership with bud. "no, i don't reckon it was the sheep herders themselves," said slim, "but it might be some of their bunch coming to size things up. the government never made a worse mistake than to throw this indian land open to everybody. them fellers at washington should have barred the sheep men!" to hear slim talk you would have imagined that he could go to washington and regulate matters all by himself. but if you understand the feeling of western cattle men and horse men against sheep herders it will make it easier to comprehend. "well, if any of 'em try to come to happy valley," said bud, "they'll wish they'd stayed out." "that's right!" chimed in nort and dick. suddenly one of the cowboys on the outer fringe of the riding posse uttered a low cry and exclaimed: "there they are--off to the left!" as he spoke the moon came out from behind ragged clouds and disclosed two horsemen riding at full speed across the prairie. "after 'em, fellows!" cried slim, and he fired some shots in the air. the boy ranchers put spurs to their steeds--not cruelly but with a gentle touch to let the horses know a burst of speed was needed--and the race was quickly taken up. and while it is on i will beg a moment or so of the time of my new readers to make them acquainted with the heroes of this story. as related in the first book of this series, called "the boy ranchers; or solving the mystery at diamond x," nort and dick shannon, eastern cousins of bud merkel, went to the ranch of his father, diamond x, to spend their vacation. while there certain mysterious happenings occurred. dr. hendryx wright, a college scientist, with a party of helpers, was discovered digging not far from diamond x. at first it was thought he was after a lost gold mine, but later it was disclosed that he was after the bones of a prehistoric monster for the college museum. the part that del pinzo, a rascally half-breed, played in this search and the activities of the boy ranchers, are fully set forth. nort and dick liked it so at diamond x that they took up their home with bud, and became partners with him, their father buying them a share in a ranch located in "happy valley," as the boys called it. following the exciting times related in the first volume, the boy ranchers went to camp, they took the trail and also helped pursue a band of yaqui indians who escaped from their mexican reservation, and the details of those activities will be found in the volumes specifically named for each line of activity. the book immediately preceding this is called "the boy ranchers among the indians; or, on the trail of the yaquis." they had not long returned from helping to defeat these marauders, and rescue rosemary and her brother floyd, when the news came about the government lands being thrown open. then had followed the alarm in the night, and the chase, which was now on. forward toward the two lone figures spurred the boy ranchers and their cowboy companions. several more shots rang out, slivers of flame spitting harmlessly into the air, for until more was known of the character of the fugitives, no one desired to fire directly at them. though in the west it was the custom to shoot first and inquire afterward, slim degnan knew it was not always a wise policy. innocent men might be injured. however the two fugitives were either such poor riders, or their steeds were so tired, or, possibly, it was a combination of both causes, that the outfit from diamond x was not long in overhauling them. "look out for shots!" warned snake purdee, who was now in the lead with slim. but the two figures whose horses were rapidly slowing to a walk, showed no signs of fight. indeed the larger of the two men cried: "we surrender, gentlemen!" in the half light of the moon bud, nort and dick looked at each other on hearing that voice. it brought back to them very vividly a picture of strenuous times. "don't let 'em shoot, professor!" chimed in another voice. "if i only had my long poker here----" "be quiet, zeb," spoke the one who had offered to surrender. "you aren't attending the school furnace now." "i only wish i was," came the rueful comment. "did you hear that?" spoke bud to his cousins. "it's professor wright!" exclaimed nort and dick in a sort of surprised duet. "but what's he doing here, and at night, and why did he run?" asked bud. however, these questions could be answered later. just now slim and his bunch of cowboys were interested in discovering the object or motive of the strangers of the night--strangers in that the foremen and his helpers had not recognized the identity of the two men. and, in fact, professor wright--he of the pre-historic monster fame--was the only one known to the boys, and then only by his voice. who "zeb" might be they could only guess. "except that i'd say, first shot, he was janitor in some small college where the professor taught," remarked nort, and this proved to be the case. "what do you want?" queried slim of the two former fugitives, though really they were that no longer, being now surrounded by the cowboys. "we were looking for the ranch of mr. merkel--diamond x it is called, i believe," said the taller of the two strange riders. "well, you're running away from it," commented snake purdee. "and why did you fire at us?" asked slim. "gentlemen, i didn't fire. i am professor hendryx wright, and this is my helper, zeb tauth. he is the janitor at my school, and i have brought him out west with me. i have a small party accompanying me and we are going to make another search for fossil bones as i did once before at diamond x ranch. i was looking for the place in the darkness, having left my other men and supplies some distance back, when you suddenly set after us. i took you for horse thieves----" "just what we sized _you_ up as," laughed slim, who now had recognized the professor, though zeb was a stranger. "mighty sorry to have troubled you," went on the foreman, "but we couldn't take any chances." "especially with the sheep herders likely to swoop down on us and spoil everything," added bud. "hello, boys! are you there?" exclaimed professor wright as he recognized the voice of the lad. "you say someone had been stealing your sheep?" "shades of zip foster! never that!" cried bud, calling upon a sort of mythical patron saint whose identity he jealously concealed from his cousins. "when we start herding sheep, professor, the world will turn the other way." "we'll explain later," suggested nort. "if you're going to stop with us, professor, turn around and come back." "gladly," answered the scientist. "but i have left my men and the outfit some miles back, awaiting word as to whether or not i could locate your ranch, and----" "i'll send a man to bring 'em up," offered the foreman. "mighty funny, though, about you not firing at me," he added, as the horses were turned back toward diamond x. "are you sure your friend didn't?" he asked the professor. "zeb doesn't know one end of a gun from the other," said the scientist. "as for me--i have none." "mighty queer!" muttered snake. "somebody fired all right." "must have been another party," suggested bud. "maybe you chased the wrong bunch, slim." "maybe i did, bud," admitted the foreman, "though i didn't think there was two bunches. if there was----" he did not finish what he intended to say, for his mind was busy with several thoughts engendered by the news that the hated sheep men might come to a land so far held sacred to horses and cattle. "yes, it's mighty queer," said slim musingly, as they turned in toward the corral not far from the ranch house. "some one fired at me just as the chase began, and if it wasn't the professor----" mr. merkel, followed by some of his ranchmen neighbors, came hurrying from the house. framed in the lighted doorway stood ma merkel and nell. "that you, slim?" asked the owner of diamond x. "that's me," was the reply. "did you get 'em?" "well, in a way, yes," came the slow reply. "they turned out to be friends of yours." "_friends?_" questioned mr. merkel sharply. "it's professor wright," explained bud. "then you've got the wrong parties!" cried mr. merkel. "there's been a robbery here!" "a _robbery_!" chorused the boy ranchers. "yes! in the excitement somebody got in the ranch house and ransacked my safe." "did they get much?" dick asked. amid a silence mr. merkel answered: "they took the papers that prove my right to lands along spur creek!" "spur creek!" fairly shouted bud. "that's where they're going to open the indian holdings--where the sheep men will first head for, and if we can't control that opening our range won't be worth a hill of beans! are you sure the papers are gone, dad?" "i'm only too sure, son," was the grim answer. chapter iii on the trail leaving zeb tauth to look after his own steed and that of professor wright, bud and his cousins ushered the scientist into the living-room of the ranch house, whither mr. merkel and his fellow ranchmen returned, followed by his wife and daughter. slim degnan also entered, having turned his horse over to babe, who, with the other cowboys, went to the corral. "now let's get the straight of this," suggested the owner of diamond x ranch, when the party was again sitting down, and professor wright had been made welcome. "slim, you saw what happened outside. suppose you tell us about that." "seems to me that something more important happened in here," spoke bud. "if your papers were stolen, dad, why----" "they sure were, _son_," interrupted mr. merkel, "but i have an idea that what went on outside had a very important bearing on what took place in here. that's why i wanted to hear slim's account first." "well, there isn't an awful lot to tell," said the ranch foreman. "i was sitting outside the corral with the boys, sort of planning up the work for to-morrow. we were talking about this new move of the government, opening the indian lands, and we were sort of guessing how soon the onery sheep men would bust in on us, when one of the boys--snake purdee i reckon it was--said somebody was coming up the trail that leads to happy valley. "first we didn't pay much attention to them, thinking they was some of bud's boys, but they acted so funny that i hailed 'em, and instead of answering like they should, they fired. course i fired back--up in the air--and then we boys got busy and took after 'em." "yes, i can understand it from there on," said mr. merkel. "but you didn't get the ones you went after; did you?" "apparently not," admitted the foreman with a grim smile. "it was pretty dark and we must have missed 'em. but finally we did see two horses streaking it over the plains, and we took after 'em, only to find they were the professor here, and his friend." "then the other parties, whoever they were, got away," commented mr. merkel. "must have," said the foreman. "they'd 'a' had time while we was saddlin' up. but what their object was i can't guess." "and then we come back here to find you've been robbed," commented bud. "say, doesn't it look as though those first parties came around just to draw us off, so someone else could sneak in and rifle the safe?" he asked quickly. there was a moment of silence, to give the idea time to filter through the minds of all present, and then mr. merkel said: "son, i believe you've struck it! that was a game to draw our fire on the front, while they sneaked up in the rear to frisk my safe! and the professor----" "i hope you don't think i had anything to do with your unfortunate loss!" exclaimed the scientist. "of course not!" said mr. merkel quickly. "i was about to remark that you being on the scene was purely a matter of accident, though it may have had the effect of drawing slim and his bunch farther away from the real thieves than was desirable." "shouldn't be a bit surprised," admitted the foreman. "it was so dark, before the moon came out, that we couldn't tell much where we were going. but as soon as we picked up the professor and his friend we took after them. probably this gave the real rascals the chance they wanted." "perhaps i had better explain how i happened to be in this neighborhood," said dr. wright. "our discoveries of the prehistoric fossils, at which you helped us so much," he added, nodding toward the boy ranchers, "our discoveries gained us such scientific honors that i have been asked to come back and search for more bones. i had no time to write and tell you i was coming, and that i hoped you would allow my party to make some location on your ranch our headquarters," he said to mr. merkel. "you will be very welcome," the ranchman remarked. "i am glad to know that," resumed dr. wright. "well, i hurriedly got a party together, taking as my personal helper zeb tauth, the janitor of part of the college building where i am stationed. i know zeb's ways, and he knows mine. "we rather lost our way in the darkness," continued the scientist, "and, leaving the main party, zeb and i journeyed on to look for the ranch. we heard shots and saw a party of horsemen riding after us, and zeb at once concluded we were going to be held up and made the victims of horse thieves. so we did our best to get away." "you rode mighty well, professor! yon rode mighty well!" complimented slim degnan. "but what's the next thing to be done?" asked bud, as there came a pause in the conversation. "did they take everything out of the safe, dad?" "well, i didn't have much money in it, luckily, but they did get some valuable papers--documents that prove my claim to land along spur creek--land that is the key to the situation in this new tract the government is opening, or, as a matter of fact, has already opened." "it means the sheep herders can come in then; does it?" asked nort. "practically that, unless i can get back those papers and prove that i am the real owner of the land, and that i owned it before this government opening took place," answered mr. merkel. "it must have been someone interested in sheep herding who knew about the papers, who knew you had them here and who wanted them," commented dick. "yes, that's probably true," assented the ranchman. "well, there's only one thing to do," declared bud. "get after 'em!" cried nort and dick. "that's it!" exclaimed their cousin. "we must take the trail after these sheep-herding thieves and get back dad's papers!" bud started from the room. "you aren't going to take the trail to-night, are you?" asked his father. "why not?" demanded bud. "the longer we wait the better lead they'll have on us." "i know, but you can't do anything in the dark." "yes, we can!" cried bud. "come on, boys!" he called to his cousins. "it won't be the first time we've ridden a trail at night. please pack us up a little grub," he called to his mother and sister. "oh, bud, i hate to have you go," said ma merkel. "can't be helped!" he laughingly assured her. "we'll be back in a little while, unless we get on the trail of these chaps and run 'em down. while the grub is being packed, dad, tell us just how they got in and frisked your safe." "well, they just naturally got in the back door while we were all out in front watching you boys ride off after those who put up a game to draw us out," was the answer. "when we went back in the house, after you'd gone, i saw my safe open and a lot of papers scattered about. the combination is very simple. what little money was in it--not much--was taken, and the spur creek deeds." "well, we'll get 'em back!" cried bud. "on the trail, fellows!" and catching up bundles of hastily prepared "snacks," the boy ranchers started on the trail after the thieves, for much depended on their success and an early start was essential. bud and his cousins had not ridden far beyond the corral when they heard behind them shouts of: "wait a minute! wait! come back!" "what's up now?" questioned bud, drawing rein. chapter iv around the campfire naturally impatient, the boy ranchers did not want to return once they had started on the trail of the robbers. they thought they should be allowed to rush off, and perhaps they had an idea they could soon "meet up" with the suspects and bring them back. but mr. merkel and the other ranchmen, as well as the veteran cowboys, had no such delusions. however, this was no time to discourage impetuous youth. "what's the matter, dad?" asked bud, as he recognized his father's voice among those bidding him and his cousins to return. "has someone telephoned in that they've rounded up the thieves?" no surprise need be occasioned when i speak of telephones in connection with ranching in the far west. times have changed since the early days of the buffalo and indians. both are almost extinct, though the indians have lasted longer than the bison. but the west has progressed with other parts of the country, and the advent of the cheap automobile and the spread of telephone wires, and even wireless now, has brought far distant ranches close together. so bud knew it could easily have been the case that some distant ranchman might have telephoned to diamond x that he had made a capture of suspicious persons. he may not have known of the theft of mr. merkel's spur creek papers, for this robbery had not yet been broadcast. "no telephones, son," said mr. merkel easily, as he strode out to where the horses of the boys were pawing the ground, almost as impatient to be gone as were their masters. "but i want you to take one of the men with you." "oh, dad! i don't want to do that!" protested bud. "we've hit the trail alone before," added nort. "it isn't a question of your ability," went on mr. merkel. "but you may have to split--very likely you will, and for this purpose four are better than three. then you can pair it off." "that's right," slowly admitted bud. "two of us might have to follow one trail, and it would be lonesome for just one to take the other. how about old billee?" "you couldn't pick a better companion," agreed mr. merkel. billee dobb was only too glad to get away from the routine work of the ranch--riding herd and helping in the round up and shipping--and quickly saddled to accompany the boys on their ride through the night, in an endeavor to pick up the trail of those who had committed the robbery at spur creek. "well, i guess we're off this time," remarked dick, as once more they turned their horses' heads in the general direction supposed to have been taken by the robbers. it was, as you may surmise, pretty much guess work, and yet there were some clues on which to work, and the boys hoped to pick up others as they went along, by stopping at different ranch houses and making inquiries. then, too, cowboys would be met with here and there, and they might have seen some trace of the fugitives. in the olden days, before the west was as much traveled as it is now, it might have been possible for pioneers, such as those featured in the novels of james fenimore cooper, to have followed and picked up the trail by the mere physical evidences left on the ground--a footprint here, a hoofmark there, the pressed down grass and so on. but this was out of the question now, though some slight marks might be discovered in the daytime by the sharp eyes of billee dobb, who was a veteran cowboy and plainsman. in this bud and his companions would have to rely on billee, as the boys themselves had not had much experience in this line. "well, billee, what do you think of it all?" asked bud as he rode beside the old man, while nort and dick loped along in the rear. "you mean what happened to-night, bud?" "yep." bud was clipping his words short to save time. "well," said the old man slowly, "i don't know just what to think. it's all mighty queer, but one thing i'll say--this didn't all happen just to-night." "you mean it was planned in advance?" asked dick. "sartin sure, son! it was a put-up job if ever there was one. why, just look back over it. here we all were in peace and quiet, and mr. merkel was entertainin' his friends, when up rides a bunch of onery greasers, if i'm any judge." "what makes you think they were greasers?" asked bud. "'cause no decent white men would act like they did. up they rides, pretending to be sneakin' in on us, maybe to lift a few horses or else stampede a bunch of our cows. but that wasn't their intention at all." "if it was, slim and the rest of 'em spoiled their plans," observed nort. "don't worry, they had no notion of takin' anything," declared old billee. "they just wanted to take our attention while some of their confederates sneaked in and got mr. merkel's papers; and they done that same." "i'll say they did!" exclaimed bud in disgust. "it was all too easy for them. but how did they know dad's papers were in the safe?" "well, it's common knowledge that your paw claims the land around spur creek," observed billee. "that's common knowledge. and it wouldn't take a kansas city lawyer long to figger out that he had papers to prove his claim, an' that he kept these papers in his safe; it bein' equally well known that we haven't much time to fool with banks around here, 'specially in the busy season. "so all the rascal had to do was to get the house clear, by creatin' some excitement away from it, and then he walked in an' skinned the safe. it didn't help matters any that th' perfesser happened along at the same time, either, and i don't care who knows it!" declared billee dobb emphatically. "you don't mean to say you believe dr. wright had any hand in this?" cried bud. "well, maybe _he_ didn't 'zactly have a hand in it," grudgingly admitted the old cowpuncher, "but he played right into the hands of th' scoundrels." "on purpose, do you mean?" asked nort. "well, that's to be found out," remarked billee musingly. "billee, you're 'way off there!" cried bud. "professor wright is as right as his name--we proved that before when he was here after the prehistoric triceratops bones." "he may have changed since then," declared billee. "what did he want to come in and lead us off on a false trail for, when we was hot after the robbers?" "he didn't do it purposely," asserted nort, who, with his brother, shared bud's views as to the integrity of professor wright. "it was because he got lost." "yes, to hear him tell it," sneered billee. "why, look here!" cried bud. "what good would it do professor wright to get hold of dad's papers proving ownership to the spur creek lands? why would he want the land? if anybody wants it they must be those who are coming in under the new government ruling--sheep herders maybe, and it's to them we have to look." "that wright is just the kind of a chap who'd go in for sheep herding, and spoiling a cattle country," complained billee, as he pulled up the head of his horse, when the animal showed a tendency to stumble over a prairie dog's hole. "you're away off!" laughed bud. "it may have been sheep herders who got dad's papers, hoping thus to be able to claim a lot of land for their woolly feeders, but professor wright had no hand in it." billee's only answer was a sniff. however, as the boy ranchers rode along in the darkness they realized that they could have had no better companion than old billee dobb, for his very vindictiveness, though it might be wrongly directed, made him eager to keep after the robbers. that professor wright was other than he claimed to be, none of the boys doubted for a moment. but who was behind the plot which had just succeeded so well? that was a question which needed answering. the ranch buildings of diamond x were soon left behind in the darkness, their pleasant glow fading as the four horsemen of the prairies rode along in silence, looking, as best they could under the faint glow of the moon for the outlines of other horsemen to be shown on the horizon as they topped some rise in the undulating ground. in general the boy ranchers and billee were following the trail on which slim and the cowboys had started after the shots were fired--the trail that was crossed by professor wright, causing the pursuers to turn back. "it would have been better if some of us had kept on when we had the start," commented nort when, after an hour's ride nothing had been seen. "yes, it would," agreed billee. "but we didn't know, then, that there had been a robbery," went on nort. "that's right," assented bud. "we just thought it was an ordinary bunch of cattle or horse thieves, and if they had been there would have been nothing else to worry about, as we drove them off." "well, we may get 'em yet, but 'tisn't very likely," said billee. and as the night wore on and they kept their slow pace over the plains, this prediction seemed about to be borne out. the boys and billee had stopped at ranch houses here and there to make inquiries about some fleeing band of horsemen, but no one had seen them. the proprietors of most of the ranches were over at diamond x and had not yet returned. some of them had telephoned to their foremen or other members of the ranch households, telling about the robbers and saying that bud and his companions might call. but beyond this no trace was found of the robbers. it was long past midnight when old billee pulled his horse to a stop, and "slumped" from the saddle. "what's the matter?" asked bud. "see some sign?" by this he intended to ask if the old plainsman saw any indications that they were hotter on the trail of those they sought. "nope!" answered old billee. "but we're going to camp and make coffee and frizzle a bit of bacon. no use keepin' on any longer. we can't do anything more till mornin'." "camp it is!" exclaimed bud, "and i'm not sorry, either." shortly a fire was going, made from twigs and branches picked up under a few trees near where the party had stopped, and soon the appetizing aroma of coffee and bacon spread through the night air. "um! but this is jolly!" cried nort. the horses were picketed out and after the midnight supper the wayfarers rolled themselves in their blankets and prepared to pass what remained of the night in the glow of the campfire, and beneath the fitful light of the cloud-obscured moon. chapter v at spur creek dick was dreaming that he was at a football game, and that his brother nort had hold of him and was trying to pull him through the line of opposing players to make a touchdown. then the dream seemed to become confused with reality, and dick felt some one tugging at the blanket in which he had rolled himself so snugly. half awake and half asleep dick's brain struggled to clear itself and get the right impression of what really was going on. then he became aware that his blanket was actually being pulled--this was no dream. "here! who's that? what you doing?" he cried, and instinctively he began groping for his gun, which was in its holster in the belt he had taken off for the night. something cold and clammy touched dick on the cheek, causing a shudder to run through him. "snakes!" he yelled. "rattlers! look out!" his frantic cries roused the others, and nort and bud struggled to free themselves of their enveloping blankets as they sat up near the smouldering blaze of the camp fire. "what is it?" cried bud, who had only half heard what his cousin shouted. "snakes!" again yelled dick. "snakes nothing!" disgustedly grumbled billee dobb, who did not relish having his slumbers broken. "it's too cold for snakes to be out to-night." then the plainsman tossed on the fire a bit of wood which, when it blazed up, revealed the cause of the disturbance. "it's your horse!" cried nort with a laugh. and it was dick's faithful pony who, having slipped his tether, had wandered over near human companionship, and had been pulling at dick's blanket with his teeth. then the animal rubbed his cold and clammy muzzle on dick's face, giving the lad the impression that a scaly rattlesnake had tried to crawl over him. "well, i'll be jiggered! blackie!" gasped dick, when he saw that it was his horse. "whew, but you gave me a fright!" "you oughter look fust an' yell afterward," commented billee as he turned over to go to sleep again. the boys laughed and again wrapped up in their blankets, after dick had secured his horse with the others. a dim light was now showing in the east, indicating that morning was not far off. but it was cold and cheerless, even with the fire, for it was not a very large blaze, and dick was glad to follow the example of his brother and cousin and roll up for a final doze before daylight. "well, now we'll see what happens," commented nort, as they were preparing a simple breakfast, over the replenished campfire. "think we might catch 'em to-day, billee?" "it all depends," was the old cow puncher's answer. "we can't spend too much time chasin' these scamps. there's work to be done at the ranch. hang that perfesser, anyhow!" "why?" asked bud. "well, if he hadn't crossed the trail last night when we fust started out, we'd a' had them as we was after by now!" declared billee. "maybe and maybe not," remarked bud. "it wasn't the professor's fault, anyhow. he just got lost." "well, he picked a mighty inconvenient time to do it in," snapped old billee, who was always a bit raspy before breakfast. the sun soon shone warm and glorious, a little too glorious in fact, for it was very hot after o'clock when the trail was again taken up. daylight did not make the "signs" any more plain--in fact, there was absolutely no trail to follow. all they could do was to keep on, making inquiries here and there at different ranches about suspicious characters. "we haven't seen any signs of the professor's party," remarked nort, when they stopped at noon for a "snack." "no, i fancy they're off in the other direction," remarked bud. "they will probably be at the ranch when we get back." "speaking of getting back, i don't see much use in keeping on," commented billee. "those rascals have given us the slip." "guess we might as well hit the back trail," agreed bud. "dad will have to tell hank fowler about this, and hank can rustle up a posse and see what he can do." hank fowler was the local sheriff and on him, and such men as he might swear in as deputies, devolved the duty of looking after law and order in that part of the west where diamond x was located, not far from the mexican border. the boy ranchers and billee kept on for another mile, to top a certain high piece of land, over which they could have a good view, as they thought from this vantage point they might see some signs to guide them. but from the eminence they only viewed an endless rolling prairie with here and there a clump of trees. they saw bands of roving cattle and a few horses--their own stock or that of some neighbor, and billee decided that nothing could be gained by going any farther along the cold trail. turning their horses' heads, the members of the little party swung back toward diamond x. on the way they stopped at the ranch of bud and his boy partners in happy valley, learning that everything was in good shape there, being in the efficient hands of a capable foreman and some cowboys. news of the robbery of mr. merkel's safe had already been telephoned to happy valley, but though the cowboys had ridden out for several miles in a number of directions, they had seen nothing and no one suspicious they reported. "no luck, boys?" asked mr. merkel as his son and nephews turned their weary horses into the corral and entered the house. "no luck, dad," answered bud. "what's new here?" "nothing much. professor wright's party came up and he has taken them into camp over near the place where they dug up the monster fossil bones some time ago." "you didn't hear anything about the fellows who took your papers then? what are you going to do, dad?" "well, i don't know what i can do. it isn't as if this was the east, where such things are a matter of record, and where you have the courts and judges right at hand to put a stop to anything unlawful. it's almost as if an unregistered government bond was stolen. i've got to prove my property against those that have it, and i can't do it very easily, because the men i bought it of originally are all dead or moved away. it's just as if the spur creek land was owned by no one, and the first comer has a chance to take it, now that the government has thrown open the tract." "but you aren't going to sit down and let 'em frisk you that way, are you, dad?" cried bud, surprised at what he thought was the supine and non-combative attitude of his parent. "i should say not, son!" was the vigorous answer. "i'm going to fight!" "that's more like it!" cried bud. "hurray! we're with you!" exclaimed nort. "when does the fighting begin!" dick wanted to know, and almost unconsciously he looked at his "gun." "we're going to start a camp at spur creek right away, and keep some one on guard there constantly," declared mr. merkel. "if signs and past performances go for anything, some mexicans, a few greasers and a bunch of sheep herders will pour in through the pass and pre-empt everything along spur creek any time now. certain land along spur creek did belong to the indians and as such the government can throw it open to those whose other holdings don't bar them--as i am barred. "but i don't intend any greasers or sheep herders shall take the land i bought and paid for, even if they have managed to steal my title deeds and other papers, without which i can't prove my claim. i'm going to fight!" said the ranch owner vigorously. "and we're with you!" cried nort, as he tapped his gun. i do not wish you to understand that the boy ranchers were a blood thirsty trio of "gun-men." as i have explained, you don't always need a gun in the west, but when you do require it the need is generally urgent. nor are the "guns" (by which term are meant revolvers of large caliber) used in desperate fights against human beings. in the main the guns are used with blank cartridges to direct a bunch of cattle in the way it is desired they should go. frequently a fusilade of shots, harmless enough in themselves, will serve to turn a stampede which stampede, if not stopped, would result in the death of hundreds of animals who would blindly hurl themselves over a cliff. of course there are bad men in the west now, as there used to be, though perhaps not so many, and near the mexican border roving bands of indians or half-breeds often try to run off bunches of cattle. in such cases guns with bullets instead of blank cartridges are urgently needed. then, too, enemies other than human are occasionally met with. in winter wolves may prowl about, driven desperate by hunger. there is an occasional rattlesnake to be shot up, and so, all in all, a cowboy without a gun would not fit in the picture at all. though i don't want you to get the idea that the boy ranchers were desperate characters, willing to "pull a gun" on the slightest provocation. the guns were for service, not for bravado. "are you going to start a regular camp at spur creek, dad?" asked bud. "that's my intention," his father answered. "we've got to be ready to fight these sheep herders who, i feel sure, will pour in here. they have been waiting to get possession of some range near the water, and this is their chance. but they shan't ruin my feeding ground. i've got too much money invested in it to lose it." "and though we're farther off, in happy valley, we might be harmed by sheep, too," said nort. "so we've got to fight also!" "that's right!" chimed in his brother. i have indicated to you, briefly, why the cattle men so hated the sheep herders. sheep are innocent enough in themselves, and are much needed. without them a large part of the world would go hungry and only partly clothed. "but let the sheep herders stick to their own pastures!" was the cry of the cattle men and the horse breeders. "don't let them foul our streams and cut up our grass." as i told you, no western horse or cow, unless under dire need, will drink from a stream where sheep have drunk, or through which sheep have passed. and there is no grass left, once a herd of sheep have fed over a tract, while for years afterward there is only a stunted growth of green, if, indeed, any. so it is no wonder that those at diamond x prepared to fight the sheep herders, and spur creek was the natural place at which to make a stand. situated as it was near the mexican border, the ranch of diamond x was near the head of a great valley--a natural pass between the two countries. through this pass flowed spur creek, branching out into one or more streams in different places. you probably know that to successfully raise cattle, horses or sheep two things are needed--food and water. food is supplied by the various rich grasses that grow naturally on the western plains. water is not so plentiful in that sometimes arid region, and for that reason is jealously guarded. a ranch with a natural water supply is worth ten times what one is without fluid for the cattle to drink. driving herds long distances to quench their thirst runs off their fat, and as cattle are now sold by the pound, instead of by the piece, as formerly was the case, the heavier a steer is the more money he brings. spur creek, then, was a valuable asset to mr. merkel, and he determined to fight for it to the "last ditch," so to speak. this water was only a part of the courses that were valuable to his ranch. as for the boys, they had a water supply of their own in happy valley, though they had had to fight to secure that, as related in the book named "the boy ranchers in camp." "well, if there's to be a fight, the sooner the better," commented bud as he and his cousins washed up at home after their night in the open. they told of their experiences, which really amounted to nothing as far as getting a trace of the fugitives was concerned, and then. mr. merkel sent word to sheriff fowler of the theft. "and now we'll build a fort at spur creek," said the ranchman. "a _fort_!" cried bud. "well, it will be a sort of fort," his father went on. "there is one place there just right for defensive operations and we'll put up a shack there and mount guard until the danger is over. once the sheep men see that we mean business they may throw up their hands and go back where they belong--in mexico." there were soon busy times at diamond x. the flivver was called into requisition, and on it and on wagons was transported to spur creek lumber to make a rough shack as a shelter for those who would be kept on guard against the advance of the sheep herders. "and we're going to form part of that guard!" declared bud. "our ranch can run itself for a while. we've got to stick by dad!" "that's right!" agreed nort and dick. secretly they rejoiced at the chance of a coming conflict, even though they had so recently had a hard time campaigning against the yaqui indians. it did not take long to throw up a rough shelter at spur creek. this could be improved upon as time passed, but it was necessary to make a stand there at once. so, two nights after the alarm and robbery at diamond x, behold the boy ranchers, with some of their cowboy friends, on guard at the edge of the stream which marked one of the boundaries of the land mr. merkel claimed--but land to which he could not now show a legal title because of the theft of his papers. "well, all serene so far," observed bud, as night settled down on them in their new environment. "yes, i don't reckon we'll be disturbed," observed billee, who was there with them. "it'll give me a chance to pick up, an' get back in th' saddle again," observed yellin' kid in his usual loud voice. he had been allowed to form part of the "fort" guard, as it was thought the duties there would not be strenuous for a while, at least, and he could make a better recovery than at diamond x. "well, it's a good place for a fight, if one comes," said nort, as he looked about the place. it readily lent itself well to fortification, and advantage had been taken of this by mr. merkel. the rough shack was an outpost fort in the land that was destined to be battled for by the sheep men on one side and the cattle men on the other. quiet evening was settling down, "grub" had been served and the ponies were rubbing noses in the improvised corral when yellin' kid, who was venturing to walk around a little to "exercise his game leg," as he expressed it, came to a halt and gazed earnestly across spur creek in the direction of mexico distant several miles. "what is it, kid?" asked billee, who was smoking his pipe. "somebody's comin'," was the answer, "an' he's sweatin' leather," which meant that he was riding fast. the boy ranchers looked in the direction indicated. a lone horseman was approaching from the side of the creek where the enemy might be expected first to appear. chapter vi the alarm gathered in front of their "fort," as it laughingly had been christened, the boy ranchers and their cow puncher comrades watched the approach of the lone horseman. he had come up through the valley--the pass that, like the neck of a bag tied about the middle with a string, connected two great lands--mexico and the united states. but one land represented law and order to a degree, while the other was woefully lacking in these essentials to progress. for a time the stranger rode on at the fast pace yellin' kid had at first observed, and the atmosphere was so clear that his progress was easily noticed without glasses, though bud brought out a pair after a moment or two. then, suddenly, the approaching horseman seemed to become aware, for the first time, of the new structure at spur creek--the "fort" of diamond x. for he began to slacken his pace and when a quarter of a mile from the place where mr. merkel had determined to make a stand, the horseman pulled up his steed. then he sat in the saddle and gazed long and earnestly at the shack and those who stood grouped in front of it. "look out!" suddenly cried bud, who was watching the horseman through the glasses. "he's going to draw!" this meant gun play, and the cowboys realized this, for they lost no time in "ducking" behind shelter. bud, too, was taking no chances, but as he continued to look, from a vantage point, he said: "i made a mistake. he's only using glasses, same as i am. he didn't pull a gun." "who is he?" asked nort. "anybody we know?" dick inquired. "never saw him before, to my knowledge," remarked bud. "he's a mexican or a greaser, i take it." these terms were almost synonymous, except that a mexican was a little higher class than a greaser half-breed, as the term, was sometimes applied. "let me take a look," suggested yellin' kid. "i know most of the class on the other side of the rio grande." long and earnestly the cowboy gazed through the glasses at the lone figure on the other side of spur creek--a gaze that was returned with interest, so to speak. "he's mex all right," said yellin' kid, handing the glasses to billee, "but what his game is i don't know." "looks like he just came to size us up," observed billee, after an observation, at the conclusion of which the stranger turned his horse and rode slowly off in the direction whence he had come. "that's right," assented bud. "do you think he's a sheep herder?" asked nort. "might be. looks mean enough," said yellin' kid. the cattle men could say nothing too strong against this despised class of breeders and their innocent charges. sheep herders were the scum of the earth to the ranchmen, and to say that a man has "gone in for sheep" was to utter the last word against him, though he might be a decent member of society for all that, and with as kind and human instincts as his more affluent neighbor raising cattle or horses. "well, he knows we're here and on the job, at any rate," commented bud as the horseman slowly disappeared from sight in the distance. "yes, and he'll very likely tell his band and we'll have them buzzing about our ears before we know it," remarked billee. "then we'll fight!" cried bud. "that's right!" chimed in nort and dick. "i wish my leg was in better shape," complained yellin' kid. "but i can make a shift to ride if i have to." however, the next two days passed with no signs of any activities on the part of the enemy. no sheep were sighted being driven up through the pass to the lands that were now, by government proclamation, open to whoever wanted to claim them, barring only those already having large holdings of grazing range. "but this is only the calm before the storm," declared bud, when he and his chums talked it over. "we'll have a fight yet." and it was very likely that this would happen. while waiting, though, every opportunity was taken to better fortify that part of spur creek where mr. merkel's land began. the shack was made more comfortable, a telephone line was strung to it from the main ranch at diamond x, and it was well stocked with provisions. "and we'd better run in a pipe line so we can pump water directly from the creek into the shack," said billee when certain improvements were being talked over. "why that?" asked nort. "well, it's terrible thing in this hot weather to be cut off from your water supply," said the old frontiersman. "and it might happen that the greasers and sheep men would get between our fort and the stream. then we couldn't get out for water without losing our scalps, so to speak. but if we have a pump in here, and the pipe line concealed so the scoundrels can't locate it, we can be assured of a never-ending supply of water." "it's good advice," decided mr. merkel when it was told to him, and, accordingly the pump was installed. during this time no more was seen of the solitary horseman, or, indeed, of any visitors or spies on the mexican side of spur creek. i say the mexican side, though, as a matter of fact the mexican border was some miles away, and i merely mention that country to identify the two sections, one on one side and one on the other of the stream, which was wholly within the united states. meanwhile sheriff hank fowler had endeavored to trace the thieves who had robbed mr. merkel's safe, but there had been no results. professor wright and his men were busily engaged in further search for fossil bones, and they were considered out of suspicion. mr. merkel had engaged the services of a lawyer to take up with the authorities in washington the matter of his stolen deeds in an effort to hold to his land. there were rumors that a number of the new government claims had been taken up on the land that was once the property of the indians, and among them some of the claim holders were sheep herders, it was said. "well, they'd better keep away from spur creek--that's all i got to say!" cried yellin' kid in his usual loud tones. so far, however, there had been no advent of the hated "woollies" as they were sometimes called. but the boy ranchers and their friends did not relax their vigilance. the sheep and their human owners might drift in across the creek at any hour, day or night, so a constant guard was maintained. it was one rainy, disagreeable night that the alarm came. it was the turn of bud and nort to stand watch, and they were keeping wary eyes turned toward the creek boundary through the mist of rain. "this is no fun," mused nort as he wrapped his poncho closer about him. "i've seen more jolly times," agreed bud with a laugh. "but it can't last forever. wonder what time it is, anyhow?" before nort could answer there suddenly flashed in the southern sky a glare of fire. "lightning!" exclaimed nort. "a rocket!" cried bud, all excited. "it means something, nort! maybe the sheep herders are coming!" chapter vii a parley for a moment the two boys remained motionless and quiet, waiting for what might develop. but the dying sparks of the rocket--if such it was--were followed by no other demonstration. "we'd better call billee and the others," murmured bud. "that's right," agreed nort in a low voice, though there was no need for this, as the rocket-senders must have been several miles away. billee dobb awakened at the slightest whisper near his bunk, and in a few moments dick, yellin' kid and the other cowboys, of whom there were half a dozen at the "fort," as it was called, were awake. it did not take them long to hustle into their clothes, and then, draped in ponchos, for it was still raining hard, they stood out in the darkness, waiting for what might happen next. "couldn't have been a rocket," murmured old billee, as the rain pelted down. "it's too wet for that." "must have been some greasers around a camp fire--though how in the name of a maverick they got one to burn i don't see," observed yellin' kid, making his voice only a little lower than usual. "must 'a' been that one of 'em chucked a brand up in the air." "it wasn't like a fire brand," declared nort. "it was just like a regular rocket," added bud. old billee was about to say something, probably to the effect that it was a false alarm, and that they'd all do better to be back in their warm bunks when the blackness of the night was suddenly dispelled off to the south by a sliver of flame, followed by a trail of red sparks. "there she goes again!" cried bud. "the same as before," added nort. "that's a rocket right enough," admitted billee. "like the time we was after cattle rustlers," said yellin' kid, referring to an occasion, not fully set forth in any of the books, when, as the diamond x took after a gang of cattle thieves, rockets were used as signals by the marauders to communicate with separated bands. "what do you reckon it means?" asked dick, who often dropped into the vernacular of the plains. "well, it _might_ mean almost anything," admitted old billee. "can't be any of uncle sam's soldiers that far south, or we'd 'a' heard about it. as near as i can figure it there must be some crowd down there trying to give a signal to some crowd somewhere else." this was sufficiently vague to have covered almost anything; as sport writers spread the "dope," in talking about a coming football contest between yale and princeton. yellin' kid must have sensed this, for with a chuckle he said: "you're bound to be right, billee, no matter which way the cat jumps. it sure is _some_ crowd signallin' to _another_ crowd." "do you suppose they're trying to signal us?" asked dick. "don't believe so," remarked bud. "i think it's some of the sheep men getting ready to rush in here. that rocket is a notice to some of their friends around here that they're going to start." "well, if they come we'll stop 'em!" declared bud, and the others murmured their agreement with this sentiment. they waited a little longer after the sparks of the second rocket had died away, but the signal--and it seemed positively to be that--was not repeated. "no use standing here," murmured old billee. "it will soon be morning, and if anything happens we'll be ready for it. let's get our rest out. is your trick up, bud?" "not quite, billee." "well, dick and i go on next," remarked yellin' kid, "and we might as well jump in now as long as we're up. turn in, bud and nort." our young heroes were glad enough to do this, though they never would have asked to be relieved before their time. accordingly, after a few moments of looking in vain toward where they had seen the rocket, for a repetition of the signals, bud and nort went inside the cabin, and stretched out for a little rest before day should fully break. the remainder of the night--really a short period--was without alarm or any sign that hostile forces were on their way to take possession of land claimed by the owner of diamond x. "grub's ready!" was the musical call of the cook, and soon those who were holding the line at spur creek were gathered about the table. "well, nothing happened, i see, or, rather, i don't see," remarked bud to dick and the yellin' kid who had come in off guard duty. "nary a thing," answered he of the loud voice. "didn't hear a peep out of anybody and they wasn't no more fireworks." "but we'd better keep pretty closely on the watch to-day," suggested dick. "those rockets meant something." "you're right," said billee dobb. "we'll stick right close to our little old fort to-day, and, boys, be sure your guns are in quick working order. there may be no shootin' and then, ag'in, there may be," he drawled. i suppose i need not tell you that the boy ranchers in their secret hearts rather hoped there would be shooting. they had been under fire before, and while they were not foolhardy nor inclined to take risks, they felt that if there was to be a fight on the part of the sheep men to get unlawful possession of diamond x land, the sooner such a fight took place the better. suspense was worse than actual conflict. so after the "chores" had been attended to about the spur creek fort (and there were not many duties), it became a matter of waiting. spur creek made a bend at this part of mr. merkel's holdings, and the fort was situated on what was a sort of triangular peninsula, with the stream flowing on two sides of it. in this way it was what, during the world war, was called a "spearhead" into the country to the south, and it was from this country that the mexican, greaser or other sheep herders might be expected to invade the range long held sacred to horses and cattle. but this land, by government proclamation, was now thrown open to all comers. because of the peculiar formation of the land it lent itself readily to defense, and also gave a good post for observation. the "fort" had been hastily built on the extreme point, as near the creek as was practical. back, on either side, extended the banks of the stream, and when breakfast had been served old billee, who was in command, selected those who were to patrol the banks on each side of the cabin, for a distance several miles back along the edges of the "spearhead." the morning passed. the first contingent of scouts had come in to eat and another body was about to go out to relieve them when bud, who had gone down to the edge of the creek, to clean a particularly muddy pair of shoes, looked across the stream, and uttered a cry of alarm. riding up from the southland, mexico if i may so call it (though the actual country of the montezumas was distant many miles), was a lone horseman. he was coming along, "sweating leather," and was seen by others of the diamond x forces almost as soon as observed by bud. "some one's coming!" yelled bud, and he stood up on the edge of spur creek looking at the approaching horseman until yellin' kid shouted: "better duck back here, boy. no telling when he may unlimber a gun!" it was good advice and bud took it, to the extent of getting back nearer the cabin fort. on came the rider, seemingly fearless, until he pulled rein on the other side of the stream and sat there on the back of his panting horse, a most picturesque figure. "mex from hat to stirrups," murmured snake purdee. "an' wicked from outside to inside," added yellin' kid in a lower voice than usual. the mexican rider, for such he seemed to be, raised one hand, smiled to show two rows of very white teeth in the expanse of a very dark face, took off his broad-brimmed and high crowned hat and said: "_parlez, señors?_" it was in the form of a question, and as such old billee answered it. "talk?" grunted the veteran cow puncher. "what about?" "the land," replied the stranger, with another smile evidently intended to be engaging, but which seemed rather mocking. "i come to ask why you are here in such force, evidently to stop any who might wish to cross to feed their stock on open range?" "well, it'll save trouble in a way, if you recognize the fact that we are here to stop you," said billee. "an' we're goin' to! _sabe_?" "but for why?" asked the other, speaking english much better than his appearance seemed to indicate he might be able to. "it is land open to all who come, and i have come----" "then you may as well go back where you came from!" interrupted yellin' kid, "'cause there's going to be no onery sheep pastured here, an' you can roll that in your cigaret an' smoke it!" he added, as the stranger calmly made himself a "smoke" from a wisp of paper and some tobacco he shook into it from a small cloth bag. there was no answer to this implied challenge on the part of yellin' kid, hardly even the flicker of an eyelash to show that the stranger heard and understood. yet he must have heard. yellin' kid was not one to leave a matter of that sort in doubt. his tones were always above the average. and that he has made himself plain was evident to all--even to the stranger it would appear. for there was that in his air--something about him--which seemed to say that he had absorbed what the cowboy had intimated. whether he would profit by the remarks--well, that was another matter--something for the future. but if he was at all apprehensive it was not manifested by any tremor of his hands; for not a grain of tobacco was spilled. chapter viii suspicions for several moments the situation remained thus; the boy ranchers and their friends were on one side of spur creek, determined to repulse any attempt on the part of the strange horseman, who was on the opposite shore, to cross and make a landing. in this case it might be considered a legal taking possession of disputed land, and open the way for a band of sheep men to enter. on the other side was the lone horseman calmly puffing at his cigaret, as if literally taking the advice of yellin' kid. the three boys, and the older cowboys also, had their guns in readiness for action, but it was easy to guess that the lone horseman, unless he was extremely foolhardy, would not attempt to do anything in the face of such odds. more than two minutes passed, and if you want to know how long this is in a tense situation take out your watch and count the seconds. then the stranger on the mexican side of spur creek tossed away his smouldering cigaret stub, took a deep breath and exhaled the smoke. next he spoke softly. "you will have no sheep, _señors_?" he asked. "nary a sheep!" declared billee dobb, "an' you can tell them that sent you!" a half smile--a contemptuous smirk of the lips--seamed for a moment the bronzed, weather-beaten and wrinkled face of the lone horseman. he tightened the reins and his steed made ready to gallop off. "i shall see you again, _señors_. _adios!_" he cried, and, with a graceful wave of his hand he wheeled and rode off as fast as he had approached. for a few seconds longer there was silence in the ranks of those holding fort spur creek as it might be called. then bud broke out with: "what do you make of that?" "can't make much," admitted old billee. "if he came to find out whether we were ready, he went away satisfied." "regular stage and moving picture stuff!" commented nort. "i believe the fellow was an actor," laughed dick. "the way he flipped his cigaret and waved to us--he must have been in the movies sometime." "i'll movie him if he comes on this side of spur creek!" muttered snake purdee. "him and his '_adios_'! nothin' but a greaser, i'll wager!" "he had his nerve with him," said old billee. "but, boys, we mustn't let him get ours. he came to spy out and see what he could pick up." "well, he found us ready for him!" exclaimed yellin' kid. "yes, but maybe he'll go back and report that we aren't ready enough," said billee. "what do you mean?" asked bud. "i mean he has sized up our force, and he and his gang may be able to bring up enough to beat us back. you see, boys, this land is a rich prize, not only for sheep men but for any who want to use it for grazing. it has water and good grass." "well, what's the matter with 'em stayin' on their own side of spur creek?" asked snake, growling out the words. "that's where they should stay, by rights," said billee, "and it's where we intend to keep 'em. the other land is open to those who stake it out, i suppose, but on this side it belongs to your father, bud." "the trouble is he has to prove it," answered the boy rancher. "yes, and that's going to be hard with his papers stolen the way they are," admitted billee. "of course it was a put up job, and i have my suspicions of who did it. but this land would be a rich prize for a sheep herder or anybody else, and we've got to fight 'em off." "who are you suspicious of?" demanded bud. "never you mind," was the enigmatical answer, given with a shake of the head, "but i have 'em all right. however, that's another matter. what we have to do now is to get ready to meet any of these sheep men if they come up and try to cross the creek." "you reckon he's gone back to his gang to tell 'em to get ready to come here?" asked snake. "shouldn't wonder," admitted billee. "but it'll be some time before they can bring up the woollies." "sheep travel fast, they eat fast and they ruin water and pastures faster'n sam hill!" exclaimed yellin' kid, and this was true. if you have ever watched a flock of sheep feeding you would know this. they eat as though they feared some one was going to take all the grass away on a moment's notice. "well, he's ridin' fast," observed snake, as, shading his eyes with his hat, he gazed in the direction taken by the lone horseman. the fellow was almost out of sight now, and soon was lost to view. danger now seemed more imminent than it had been, and, as behooved efficient cowboys, our friends at once began going over the situation and making sure that they had done all that was possible to fortify their position. of course, while i have referred to the shack hurriedly erected as a "fort," it was nothing of the sort. there were no heavy walls, and of course no artillery, though the boys wished they did have a machine gun. but, on the other hand, no artillery would be brought up against them, so this evened matters up. if it came to a fight there would be only revolvers used on both sides at first, though later rifles might come into play. however, not even the most rabid of the cowboys from diamond x really wanted a bloody fight. they would much rather the sheep men kept away, leaving the rightful owners of the land in possession. but, as billee had said, the stealing of mr. merkel's papers seemed to indicate some deep-laid plot to cheat him of his land that was so valuable. "we're in as good shape as we can be, until it comes to a showdown and a fight," remarked billee, when the noon-day meal was served, after they had gone carefully over the defense. "did you get your dad?" he asked bud. "yes, i had him on the wire," answered the son of the owner of diamond x. "nothing new has developed back home, and i told him about this fellow. he thinks, as we do, that he was a spy." "and, the more i think of it, the more i think i have seen that fellow before," remarked nort, with a puzzled air. "seen him before--what do you mean?" asked dick. "well, his face seemed familiar at first, and then when he lit his cigaret and threw it away, he reminded me of some one." "some one in the movies, maybe," said bud. "well, that's what i thought at first," admitted nort, "though the more i think of it the more i'm certain that i've seen him out here--some time ago. i wish i could recall it." "i can't place him," said dick. "stop thinking of it, nort. it may come to you all of a sudden." "it may not amount to anything, anyhow," nort admitted. "but i have a feeling that i had a run in with that man before." there was little to do at spur creek except await developments, and this waiting was really harder work than actual fighting would have been. it was also more nervous, keeping them all on a strain. the approach of the enemy and by "enemy" i mean sheep men who might try to pasture their flocks on mr. merkel's land, or men who might try to take possession of it--these enemies would appear on the southern side of spur creek first, as it was well known there were the largest sheep ranches--just across the mexican border. and pretty well cropped off were the vast fields, too. that is why there was such an eagerness to get into new and fertile ranges. in consequence of this, watch was kept on that side of the stream where the lone horseman had appeared. to the north, east and west little danger was apprehended. on the second day after the parley with this "spy," as he was dubbed, a moving cloud of dust was observed approaching from the north. you may be sure it did not go long unnoticed, and dick raised a cry as soon as he saw the indication of someone, or something, coming. "get out your guns!" he shouted. "maybe it's somebody from diamond x," spoke nort. and a little later it could be seen that the dust was caused by three steers rushing over the dry prairie. "must have been a stampede up at your place, bud," remarked snake purdee, as he and the other cowboys rode out in answer to dick's alarm. "these got away from the main herd. we'll round 'em up." with their usual loud cries the cowboys rode toward the fleeing cattle, which seemed maddened by some fear, for they never slackened pace. but by skillful rope-throwing two were downed and secured. the third, and fleeter of the trio furnished a bit of amusement for the holders of the fort. "i'll bulldog him!" shouted snake purdee. "lay off, kid!" he called to the yeller, for now that his leg was mending yellin' kid began to take an active part in all that went on. "bulldogging" is a term used in the west to indicate sort of wrestling match with a steer, and the completion of the act sees the animal thrown prone to the ground by the strength and skill of the cowboy. urging his pony to a fast pace, snake rode up alongside the rushing steer and then, when near enough, the cowboy leaped from his horse and raced on foot alongside the steer. snake reached out and shot his right arm around the animal's neck, reaching over and under until he could grasp the loose, bottom skin. while he was doing this he had to keep pace with the steer, and at times snake was lifted clear from the ground, while, now and again, he had to throw his legs out to keep them clear of the knees of the now maddened beast. but snake had performed this feat before, and was one of the most expert at the _rodeo_ games whenever they were held. his right arm now over the steer's neck, and with his right hand firmly grasping the loose lower, neck-skin, snake reached out his left hand and caught hold of the tip of the animal's left horn. this was the position he had been working to secure, and the instant he had it, snake lunged his body downward against his own left elbow, which brought almost his entire weight, at a powerful leverage, against the brute's horn. at the same time snake was pulling with his right hand and the effect of this was to twist the steer's neck so that the animal lost its balance. its speed slackened and, a moment later it toppled over on its side, and lay there quite exhausted by its run. though this may sound cruel it was not, and the steer suffered no harm. in fact it was benefited, for its mad race was ended, and there was no telling what might have happened if it had kept on. the instant snake saw the steer about to topple over he released his hold and sprang away. "well done!" cried bud. "that was a dandy!" "wish i could do that!" sighed dick. "oh, you will, some day," consoled his cousin. the three runaway steers were thus secured, and as there was no place to care for them at the fort one of the cowboys was delegated to haze them back to the main herd at diamond x. another day passed in quietness, with no sign from the south of spur creek that any hostile band of sheep herders was on the way to lay waste, in a sense, the fertile lands of mr. merkel. in the meanwhile there was telephone communication twice a day, or oftener, between the fort and the main ranch house. nothing new had transpired at diamond x, and the boy ranchers were told that matters in happy valley were peaceful. of course there were the usual occurrences as there were always such on a big ranch. one or more of the cowboys was continually getting hurt, more or less seriously, and being doctored in the rough and ready fashion that, perforce, prevails in the unsettled part of the west. for though the life of a cowboy may seem very picturesque when you view it from a seat in a tent or say from madison square garden, in new york, the real facts of the case are vastly different. no one can ride horses in the slap-dash style the cowboys ride them, and they can not handle cattle--often vicious ones--the way the beasts are handled, without accidents happening. nor are cowboys the ones to favor themselves for the sake of avoiding risks. rather they go out of their way to look for trouble, as it were. they are filled with bravado. so it was that while i have said matters were quiet at the two ranches, yet small accidents were continually happening. but, as the boys reported, after a talk over the wire, nothing of great moment had taken place. "your dad hasn't heard anything about his stolen papers, has he?" inquired billee. "nary a thing," answered bud in the vernacular of the west, "and he's beginning to wonder if anything is going to happen down here." almost as bud spoke there came a hail from one of the cowboys who was on the watch, and his cry was instantly taken up with the shout: "somebody's coming!" at once there was an exodus, and as our heroes and their cowboy friends lined up in front of the shack, they saw, coming toward them on the opposite side of spur creek, several horsemen, and at the sight of one rider bud cried: "it's professor wright!" chapter ix a call for help this announcement, calling attention to the approach of the scientist, rather overshadowed other matters for a moment. but the interest was made more intense when the identity of the men accompanying the professor was made known. "he's in with a bunch of greasers!" cried snake purdee. "and look who one of 'em is!" added nort. "it's the _spy_!" without doubt one of the approaching party was the same mexican who had so airily bidden our friends "_adios_," on the occasion of his first visit. "well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed bud. "what do you reckon the professor is doing, or was doing, over there?" asked nort. no one answered him, but bud turned toward old billee. the veteran cow puncher had spoken of "suspicions." bud wondered if they were along a line that might connect with the professor. but if old billee had anything to say he was keeping it to himself. though there was a quizzical look on his face as he observed the approaching horseman, of whom professor wright appeared to form the nucleus. "if those fellows think they can cover up their game by getting one of our friends to accompany them, they've got another guess coming," said bud grimly. "that's right--don't let 'em cross!" cried dick. but the "spy," as he was called for want of a better name, and his mexican companions, seemed to have no intentions of fording spur creek which, though rather wide, was not very deep in some places. reining in their horses when yet several hundred feet from the southern bank of the stream, the mexicans halted, and the one who had ridden up alone several days before, waved his hand toward the waiting cowboys, and then motioned to the professor as if saying: "there are your friends." as a matter of fact that is what he did say, for professor wright said so when, a little later, he had urged his horse across the creek, and had joined the boy ranchers and their friends. watching the scientist cross the stream, the mexicans stood for a moment, rather picturesque figures on the southern bank and then, when the "spy" had again lighted a cigaret, and waved his hand as if in mocking farewell, the band rode off. it was a very silent contingent from diamond x that watched the lone approach of professor wright. the scientist seemed worn to weariness, and looked worried as he smiled at his acquaintances and said: "well, here i am." "so we see," observed billee dobb, dryly, not to say sarcastically. "where have you been?" asked bud. "did they capture you and hold you for ransom?" nort wanted to know. "what happened?" asked dick. "with my usual stupidity i became lost again," explained professor wright. "i have been out looking around, 'prospecting,' i believe it is called, seeking a new deposit of fossil bones. i wandered farther than i intended, and got across the creek. i found i was on the wrong trail, and that there was nothing much of interest there, so i turned to come back. but i must have turned the wrong way, and have gone south instead of north, for i began to note signs that i was approaching the mexican border. "i started back then, when these gentlemen overtook me. they were very kind and when i told them where i wanted to go they agreed to accompany me." "passing over for the time being the use of the word 'gentlemen,' and realizing that you probably don't know them as well as we do, i'd like to ask if they said why they were coming this way?" asked billee. "no, they didn't, and i didn't ask them," replied the professor. "they just seemed to be riding for pleasure." "pleasure of their own kind," chuckled snake. "did you see anything of sheep in your wanderings?" asked yellin' kid. the professor thought for a moment before replying. he was always careful to give a correct and exact answer to a question. "i saw no sheep," he declared. "that's queer," murmured billee. "from what news we have it's practically certain they're going to try to rush sheep in here soon, and yet they aren't in sight." then bud bethought himself of something. "did you _smell_ any sheep, professor?" the boy asked. again the scientist thought before answering. "yes, i _smelled_ sheep very strongly, though i saw none," he said. "i distinctly remember the smell of sheep, for it brought back to my mind my youthful days when i used to go to the county fair. i _smelled_ sheep all right." "that's more like it!" cried yellin' kid. "where were they?" asked billee eagerly. "that is more than i can say," answered the professor. "we were in a hilly section, when those gentlemen overtook me and kindly offered to escort me here, and it was when the wind blew that i smelled sheep most strongly." "in what direction was the wind?" asked nort, for he thought he might get a clue in this way, as he realized the scientist was likely to have noticed natural effects like wind or rain. "the wind--ah, yes--the wind was blowing from the south," said professor wright, after thinking it over for a moment. "well, that's where i'd expect 'em to be," declared old billee. "they're probably working their way up slowly. did you see anything else suspicious, professor--or smell anything?" "suspicious!" exclaimed the college man. "what do you mean? is there anything suspicious in the smell of sheep--or the sight of them, for that matter?" "i guess you don't understand," spoke bud. "you have probably been so busy with your research work that you haven't had a chance to hear the news about the opening of the new range land, and the danger of sheep coming in." "i heard something of this--and the theft of your father's papers--the night i arrived, and caused you so much trouble," the professor admitted. "but, truth to tell, it slipped my mind, and i gave no further thought to it. so you fear the advent of sheep; do you? are they likely to spread some disease among your cattle?" "disease? they'll drive the cattle away!" cried old billee, and then it was briefly explained to the professor what a menace the sheep were, though very necessary in their own station of life. "i'm sorry i didn't observe more closely," said professor wright. "as i told you, my mind was filled with thoughts of new fossil deposits i might discover, and i wandered too far. then these gentlemen found me and showed me the way back." "they were glad enough of the excuse," murmured nort. "excuse for what?" the scientist wanted to know. "excuse for getting back here to have a peep at us," answered bud. "they wanted to see if we were still on guard," and he explained about the "fort." "well, they found us here and waiting," commented dick grimly. professor wright consented to stay for lunch at the outpost of diamond x, but declined an invitation to remain over night, saying he must get back to his colleagues who would be wondering over his long absence. "are you sure you can find your way back to your camp?" asked bud, for the scientists were established not far from mr. merkel's ranch houses. "oh, yes, i can make it all right," was the reply. "thank you." and when he was gone, many curious glances followed him. he was always a matter of curiosity to the cowboys for they could not understand his deep interest in digging up the bones of monster animals that had walked the earth millions of years ago. however, bud and his cousins could appreciate this scientific interest, knowing what it added to the sum of human knowledge. but now there was a new source of curiosity regarding the professor, and i am frank to say there was no little suspicion. in spite of the fact that (as i have told you in the first book of this series), the professor was cleared of certain suspicions there still remained, in the mind of some persons, suspicions and lurking thoughts. why had the scientist returned to diamond x at the very time when the government opened the land to claimants? why had he led astray the pursuit of those who fired the shots that night? and now was his explanation of how he happened to be in company with those believed to be sheep herders a good explanation? these were questions that needed answering, though it may be said that the older cowboys were more concerned about them than were the boy ranchers. they were young enough to be naturally unsuspicious of their scientific friend. "but i wish i knew what he really crossed the creek for," said billee. "then you don't believe his story?" asked snake purdee. "not by a long shot!" exclaimed billee. "do you?" "'twas kinder fishy," admitted the other. "but what would his object be, and what was his game?" billee had no chance to answer, for just then the telephone bell jingled, and the veteran cow puncher answered it. he had no sooner given the customary "hello," than the expression on his face changed and he cried: "you don't say so! that's too bad! all right, some of us will be right over." "what's the matter?" asked bud anxiously, coming up just in time to hear billee's remark. "there's trouble back at the ranch," was the grim answer. "they have just called for help!" "trouble! what sort?" "oh, nobody's hurt, as far as that goes," billee hastened to assure the boy. "but there's been a raid on your cattle. rustlers up to their old tricks, i reckon. it's a call for help from diamond x!" chapter x del pinzo's hand instantly all were astir in the shack that had been erected as a fort on the bank of spur creek, and a rush was made for saddles and the usual trappings of a cowboy. nor were guns forgotten, for if these would not be needed in fighting off the rustlers, they would be of service in driving back a herd of frightened animals determined to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the source of their alarm. billee was overwhelmed with questions. "who were they?" "what did they do?" "who was on the wire?" to all of these the veteran raised a hand for silence. "i'll tell you all i know," he said. "maybe you'd better tell us on the run," suggested yellin' kid. "if we're goin' t' help we'd better be moseying along, and _pronto_ at that." "good idea," chuckled old billee. "well," he resumed as they hurried toward the corral where their horses were kept, "it was the boss himself speaking on the wire. he didn't say much except to let it out that we'd better get back as soon as we could. he didn't say who it was that caused the ruction, so you know about as much of it as i do. then he hung up. but i could hear there was some excitement in your place, lads," he went on to the boy ranchers, "for i could hear some of the boys standing around your dad murmurin' an' talkin', an' i heard somebody ask if they got th' bullet out yet." "then there must have been shooting!" cried dick. "i reckon!" assented old billee. "cracky!" cried nort. "this is like old times!" "you said it!" voiced bud. they were all in the saddles now, pulling their ponies sharply around to head for the trail that led back to diamond x. then old billee bethought him of something. "i say!" he sung out. "this won't do!" "what won't?" asked nort. "all of us going off this way. we've got to leave some one here to hold the fort, boys. them onery sheep herders may steal in on us while we're away, and take possession. an' you know," went on billee with a momentous shake of his head, "possession is nine points of th' law. somebody's got t' stay here," he decided. "you two fellers'd better do it," and he pointed to two cowboys who had recently come from diamond x to augment the guard at spur creek. "aw, billee!" objected one. "we don't want t' stay here!" "have a heart, old man, an' let us come with you!" pleaded the other. "they won't be nothin' doin' here! them sheep herders have just seen that we're on guard an' they've gone back home t' report. they won't arrive an' be able t' git any sheep here 'fore we can mosey back if we have to." "that's right!" joined in the first newcomer who had spoken. "take us along, billee!" "wa'al," said billee slowly, as if in doubt, "i don't know how much help they'll need back at diamond x----" "better not take any chances," said snake purdee. "i don't believe the sheep men will come back here again very soon," was yellin' kid's usual loud-voiced opinion. "all right--come along then," conceded billee, and the two cowboys who were on the verge of being left behind rode with the others. it was fast riding, too, for when word comes in that cattle stealers are in the neighborhood of any ranch, it behooves those charged with the safety of men and animals to be on the "jump." there is always more or less theft going on among the western cattle ranches but most of it is on such a small scale that drastic action is not often taken. no ranchman missed an occasional animal, which may be "lifted" because of dire hunger, perhaps, on the part of some needy person. but when a "bunch" of valuable steers is driven off and when there are indications that an organized attempt is being made to steal more, this shows the presence of cattle rustlers, and concerted action must be taken against them. it was this thought that was in the minds of all who thus rode "sweatin' leather" from spur creek toward diamond x ranch, and from the glances that each member of the party cast, now and then, at the weapons swinging at their sides in the big holsters, it was evident that if shooting was to be a part of the game, they would be ready for it. "things are livening up a bit, aren't they?" remarked nort to bud as the boys rode side by side. "that's the way they ought to be," declared dick. "i hate sitting around and waiting for something to happen." "we didn't have to wait very long," chuckled bud. "that's right," agreed nort. "wonder who it is that's been after your dad's cattle now?" he ventured. "maybe some of the old gang--maybe a new one," replied bud. "you never can tell." "you mean del pinzo's old gang?" asked dick. "he's the worst of the lot--always was and always will be," declared bud. "but how does he keep out of jail?" nort wanted to know. "that's one of the mysteries of it," went on bud. "we've had him sent up more than once, but he gets out again by some sort of lawyer's trick. either that or he breaks jail. the jails around here aren't anything to boast of," he said with a laugh. "they're more a joke than anything else." "do you reckon del pinzo is out now?" asked nort. "shouldn't wonder a bit," bud assented. "we can tell whether he had a hand in this or not as soon as we hear dad tell what happened." musing on the wily, mean and desperate tricks of this renegade mexican half-breed, if such was his nationality, the boy ranchers and their friends galloped along over the trail to diamond x. on the way they looked for signs of any cattle raids, but saw none. and these signs are very plain when they do occur. generally they were in the shape of the half-eaten carcass of some steer, for the raiders were generally desperate and hungry men, and before driving off a bunch of cattle they would kill one and cut off enough to roast over a hastily built fire. but there were no indications of that now, and, in fact, there were none of mr. merkel's cattle pastured in the section our friends rode over to get to the ranch headquarters. "most of the herds are farther north," explained billee, "an' i reckon that's where th' rustlin' took place." this proved to be the case when they arrived at diamond x and had a chance to get some information. mr. merkel was out at one of the corrals, talking to some of his men, when his son and nephews rode up with the cowboys from spur creek. "what's the good word, dad?" greeted bud. "sorry there isn't any good word--it's mostly bad," was the reply. "i didn't like to pull you off from down there," he went on, "but as you didn't seem to be very busy, and as we needed you up here, there didn't seem to be anything else to do." "oh, we were glad to come!" nort hastened to say. "what's doin'?" asked billee. "they're after us again--the rustlers," announced mr. merkel. "same old gang?" asked bud. "i reckon so," his father answered. "it looks like the hand of del pinzo. you have to give that rascal credit for knowing just how and when to strike." "then he's out of jail again?" asked yellin' kid. "that's what some of the boys seem to think," replied mr. merkel. "here's what happened." briefly he told how during a time when many of his men were driving to the nearest railroad station a bunch of choice steers for shipment to kansas city, a raid was made on an outlying herd that was being fattened in a sheltered valley for future shipment. not only were a hundred or more steers driven off, but one cowboy of diamond x was killed and another wounded. "and didn't our boys shoot back?" demanded bud indignantly. "oh, yes, they gave a good account of themselves," his father replied. "they got three of the greasers. that's how we made pretty sure it was del pinzo again. they were just his type of rascals. "and so, because i didn't have men enough here to take after the crowd and get my cattle back, and, at the same time, run things on the ranch, i had to send for you. we'll have to let spur creek look after itself for a while." "i reckon it can, dad," said bud. "the sheep herders won't come up for a few days yet, i guess," and he told of the latest development in which professor wright was concerned. "hum! so he was lost again, was he!" mused mr. merkel. "seems to me he's getting into a regular habit that way." "does look so," chuckled nort. "he's all right in his own way----" "but he doesn't weigh much!" laughed bud, perpetrating an old joke at the expense of the professor's thin frame, for he did not have much flesh on his bones. more than one cowboy privately recommended to bud that his father "pasture" the professor out on some good grass for a season. "well, now you know as much as i do," went on mr. merkel. "our cattle have been stolen, and the gang--del pinzo's, i'm pretty certain--is driving them south. it's up to us to get after them." "and we will!" cried bud. "as soon as we have a bite to eat and can pack up some grub----" he paused, for the telephone began ringing violently. chapter xi cowboy fun bud, being the nearest to the instrument which was sending out its call from a small shed near the corral--an extension line having been established there--bud sprang to answer it. "hello! hello!" he called, in his excitement his voice resembling that of yellin' kid. "this is diamond x," bud went on. "what's the trouble?" he listened for a moment and then called: "we'll be right over!" hanging up the receiver with a bang on the hook, bud hurried out of the shed and cried: "they're at it again! rustlers just cut out a bunch at north station and they're hazing 'em off!" "whew!" whistled mr. merkel. "this is getting serious!" little time was lost. instead of stopping for a "bite," the boy ranchers and their companions hastily swallowed some coffee that "ma" merkel and nell made ready for them. some "grub" was hastily packed, for the expedition might be out all night--very likely would--and then, saddles, girths and guns having been hastily inspected, the cowboys set forth. to the bunch that had been on guard at spur creek was added some other punchers from diamond x--as many as could be spared. this was not a large number, for, as mr. merkel had said, he had sent some of his men to drive his shipment of steers to the railroad. this latest raid, word of which had been telephoned in from a distant place by a cowboy who had witnessed it, had taken place at what was called "north station." this was a sort of auxiliary ranch mr. merkel had started when he secured more range land in the spring. by pasturing some cattle around there, several miles were saved in shipping his steers after fattening them up. and, as i have told you, nothing so soon takes valuable fat off cattle as driving them long distances to feed, to water or to a shipping point. the boy ranchers knew little of north station, having been there but once, though the trail to it was plain. and as they rode they talked of what might have taken place there. "guess whoever was in charge wasn't keepin' a very good lookout, or he'd have stopped the rustlers," observed snake purdee. "oh, you can't tell," said billee dobb. "accidents will happen, and del pinzo is as slick as they come." they all knew this to be true. "well, there's one thing in our favor," remarked bud, as he urged his horse up between the steeds of nort and dick. "what's that?" asked the latter. "we're after the rustlers right quick," went on bud. "red dugan, who telephoned in, said the gang driving off our cattle was still in sight as he was talking. so we ought to overtake them by dark." "not much fun fighting after dark," observed dick dubiously. "that's right," agreed his brother. "you can't tell who you're shooting at or who's shooting at you. how did red come to be on the job so quickly?" he inquired of bud. "well, you know dad has a lot of telephones set up at different places over his range," the owner's son explained. "he says it doesn't cost much to string a line of his own, and it's mighty handy when you want to send word back to headquarters. it proved so in this case. for red was out on a distant part of the range, where there happened to be a branch telephone in a box on a pole, and he shot in word of the raid." "mighty lucky he did," observed nort. "yes, for we're on the trail almost as soon as the rustlers took it," said bud. and indeed the boy ranchers were on the trail, riding hard; for they were some miles from where the raid had taken place, and they knew the rustlers would not spare the cattle they were driving away. for the thieves cared little about running fat off the stock they had "lifted." all they desired was to get what animals they could, to be sold to some other unscrupulous band, or used for food. little consideration would be given to the steers. after keeping to the main trail for some distance, the pursuers struck off to the right, heading more to the south, for it was in this direction they might expect to overtake the rustlers. old billee, who was riding ahead with yellin' kid, keeping an anxious lookout for any signs of the rustlers, suddenly raised his hand as a signal to stop. those following him, including the boy ranchers, pulled in their steeds. "what's the matter?" called bud. "see something?" "no, but i feel something," was the somewhat strange answer. "what do you mean?" asked yellin' kid. "i mean i'm hungry!" and old billee chuckled. "if, as they say, an army fights on its stomach, the same is true about a cowboy. if we're goin' to do any fightin'--an' i reckon we are--then i got to eat!" "i'm right glad to hear you disperse them there sentiments!" chuckled snake purdee. "i was goin' t' tighten up my belt another hole or two, to make my stomach take up less room, but if you're goin' t' eat----" "might as well, an' rest the hosses a bit," said billee. "we'll do all the better afterward." accordingly they halted, the horses were turned out to graze, and a fire was built over which bacon could be sizzled and coffee made. these two staples formed the basis of most meals when the cowboys were on the trail, as they were now. no time was wasted, but billee knew how to handle his men, and he did not insist on an immediate start after the meal. he knew the value of a little rest after food had been taken. the horses, too, would be fresher for a wait. but while the afternoon was still young they were on their way again, and before dark they had reached the headquarters of north station, an auxiliary to diamond x ranch. "you fellows got here pretty quick," observed sam tod, the foreman at north station. "well, we didn't stop to play mumble-th'-peg along th' way," chuckled billee. "now let's hear the yarn straight." it was hastily told, bearing out what had already been learned of it over the telephone. "pack us up a little more grub and we'll keep on," said billee dobb to sam, when the narration was ended. "you'd better call it a day and stay here for the night," counseled sam. "nothin' doin'!" declared billee earnestly. "we're goin' t' hit th' trail hard!" "now listen a moment," begged sam. "i know this part of the country better 'n what you do, billee, though i give in to you on lots of points. this section is pretty rough, an' them rustlers won't be able to make any kind of speed with th' cattle. you can catch up t' 'em better if you make an early mornin' start than if you keep on now." "you think so?" asked billee, who was not "sot in his ways," as he often said. "i'm sure of it," declared sam. "wa'al, mebby you're right," conceded the veteran cowboy. "what say, fellows?" and he appealed to bud and the others. "i say let's stay here for th' night," decided yellin' kid. "as sam says, we can make better time in th' mornin'. th' rustlers can't drive cattle only so fast, anyhow." "unless they stampede 'em," put in bud. "that's what they did t' get away from where we had 'em pastured," declared sam. "but if they get 'em that wild now the animals is likely t' break away, an' that isn't what this bunch of greasers is countin' on." "i guess you're right," admitted bud. "it's about a fifty-fifty proposition, and we'd better wait here over night." this decided, little time was lost in taking saddles from the horses and turning them into the corral, while their riders made ready to wash up, prepare for the evening meal and rest. as snake purdee turned his pony in and hung the saddle over the fence he noticed a small enclosure in one corner of the corral, in which were two rather sorry-looking specimens of horseflesh. "what you got there, sam?" he asked, nodding toward the two sequestered steeds. "oh, couple a' outlaws," was the answer. snake's eyes seemed to sparkle with new light. "reg'lar man-killers?" he asked eagerly. "might call 'em that," assented sam with a smile. "can't nobody ride em?" went on snake. "th' last man what did has a broken leg on one side, an' a lot of skin chawed off on th' other," answered the foreman grimly. "whoopee!" yelled snake, "i'll ride 'em! i'll fan 'em! wow! now for some fun!" "fun!" exclaimed dick, who knew what was in prospect. "oh, boy!" he added to his brother, "now for some rough riding!" chapter xii after the rustlers "rough riding," as it is called, made up more than half the fun the cowboys indulged in among themselves. there has, of late years, been so much of this done in public, in traveling "wild west" shows, and in exhibitions of some features of the _rodeo_ in new york and other large cities, that i believe most of you are familiar with the feats of cowboys on these trained and untrained "broncks," or outlaw horses--"mankillers" some of them are dubbed. i might say that there are two classes of this rough riding. one is the real thing, on horses or cow ponies that are naturally bad, and never can be broken or trained to behave. the other is on what might be called "professional buckers." that is, horses which have trained to try and unseat their riders as long as they are expected to do this. i venture to say most of you have seen exhibitions of rough riding in a wild west, traveling show, or in some _rodeo_, as an imitation round-up is called after its spanish title. and most of you, i believe, have been impressed with the fact that as soon as the man got off the back of the bucking steed the said steed became as gentle as a lamb. this is what those that are trained to it do purposely, but it is not what a real dyed-in-the-wool outlaw does. for he does not let up in his attack on the man even after the latter is out of the saddle. perhaps some of you, at a rodeo, have seen a rider come bursting out of the pen on the back of a rearing, bucking, leaping steed. after the first burst two cowboys would ride up, one on either side of the bucker, and take off, on their own stirrups or saddle the fearless rider. and then the so-called "outlaw" would let himself be led meekly back into the pen to be ready for the next performance, when it would all be gone through with again. but occasionally you may have seen one of these horses lash out viciously with his heels, in an endeavor to kick anyone he could reach, not even excluding his fellow steeds. this is a specimen of a real outlaw, who never lets up in his fight against man. but few of these horses are taken about in a traveling show. they are too dangerous. however, the two that were fenced off in the corral at north station were of the real "bad" variety. they had been partly tamed, but their tempers had been spoiled and they were really dangerous to approach. hence they were confined in a small space, and not allowed out. however, cowboys are by nature reckless, and to them bucking horses are but a source of amusement and rivalry. each cowboy thinks he can ride some steed no one else can mount. and for the purpose of contests or exhibitions, to relieve the monotony of "riding range," there are facilities for saddling and bridling these horses without danger to those doing it. this method consists of putting the horse in a long narrow place like a stall in a stable, through the bars of which the boys can reach in, throw on the saddle and tighten it. then a rider can climb into the saddle over the top rail of the fence and at a signal a gate can be opened, allowing the maddened steed to rush out. then the fun begins. "i'm goin' t' ride!" yelled snake. "take th' big one then," advised sam. "he ain't quite so bad as th' other." "i want th' meanest one!" insisted snake, "an' if it's th' smallest i'll ride him!" "better not!" advised the foreman, but snake was not to be persuaded against it. and the other cowboys, scenting fun, were not very anxious to have snake change his mind. accordingly some of the men who had handled red pepper before--red pepper being the name of the horse--arranged to get a saddle on him, and to slip a sort of bridle over his head. but he had no bit, for it was as much as a man's hands were worth to try and force the bar of steel between the teeth of this outlaw. "now you watch me!" cried snake when, after hard work, the saddle had been strapped on and pulled tight. "i'm goin' t' fan him." i might explain that it is considered cowboy ethics to ride with only one hand on the reins, whether a bit is used or not, and in the other hand, usually the left, the cowboy carries his hat with which he hits the steed on either side of the neck, "fanning him," it is called. and no rough rider would ever think of sitting on the worst bucker in the world without thus riding with one hand and "fanning" with the other. meanwhile, of course, he keeps up a wild whooping sound, just to show his spirits. the feeling of a man on his back--a feeling he hates, the wild whooping, the jab of the spurs and the flapping hat around his head serves further to madden the bucker and it is a wonder any human being can stay on his back a second. yet cowboys do, and ride until they are tired of the sport. "are you ready?" called the cowboys who had saddled the "mankiller," as sam dubbed the small horse. "let him out!" yelled snake. the fastenings of the gate were loosed and out rushed the animal with the cowboy bobbing about on his back. red pepper seemed a whirlwind of fury. he rushed forward, his nose almost touching the ground, and then he began to go up in the air. up he would leap, coming down with all four legs held stiff and his back arched, to shake, if it were possible, snake from the saddle. the cowboy rose in his stirrups to take the shock as much as possible from his frame, and with a yell, began "fanning" red pepper. this added to the fury of the beast, and it fairly screamed in rage and, reaching back, tried to bite snake's legs. but they were protected by heavy leather "chaps," and the animal soon realized this. he now began leaping sideways, a form of bucking that often unseats a rider, but snake was proof against this. and all the while the animal was dashing around the larger corral, on the fence of which sat the boy ranchers and their friends, watching this cowboy fun. as they watched they laughed and called such remarks as: "fan him, snake! fan him!" "whoopee! that's stickin' to him!" "tickle him in the ear, snake!" "want any court plaster t' hold you down?" snake paid little attention to this "advice" of his friends. in fact he had little time, for he discovered that his "work was all cut out for him," before he had been many seconds on the back of red pepper. the steed in very truth was an outlaw of the worst type. finding that the methods usually successful--those of bucking and kicking out with his hind feet--were of no avail, the animal adopted new tactics. he reared high in the air, with a scream of rage--reared so high that there was a gasp of dismay from the spectators. for surely it seemed that the horse would topple over backward and, falling on snake, would crush and kill him. but the cowboy had ridden horses like this before, and with a smart blow between the animal's ears snake gave notice that it would be considered more polite if his steed would keep on all four feet. down came red pepper with a jar that shook every bone in snake's body, but he remained in the saddle, and with more wild yells brought his broad-brimmed hat down again and again on the animal's neck. again red pepper dashed forward, bucked again, worse than before and still finding the hated rider on his back began to play one of his most desperate tricks. this consisted of lying down and trying to roll over his rider. if successful, it would crush the rider almost as badly as if he had been toppled on from a backward fall. "look out, snake! he's going to roll!" warned sam. but snake was ready. suddenly red pepper stopped bucking. but before snake could catch his labored breath the horse knelt down and started to roll over, at the same time opening his mouth to bite whatever portion of snake first came within reach. snake, however, had been through an experience like this before. in an instant he had leaped from the saddle and was out of danger. that is, out of danger in a way. but he and the others realized that as soon as he could red pepper would get to his feet again and run after the cowboy. it was that which made this particular animal so dangerous. he never gave up fighting his rider, even when the latter was unseated; and he had killed two men. "watch yourself!" cried sam. but snake was ready, and so were some of the other cowboys, for they had feared just this ending of the attempt to ride red pepper. no sooner was snake out of the saddle than two of his friends dashed toward him, picking him up between them so that he rode with a foot on either of their inner stirrups. meanwhile some other cowboys rode up to get the outlaw back into the corral. this was no easy work, but they had given him little chance, and with two lariats about his neck, so that he could be held from either side, he was, after some time, gotten back in his pen. "well, i rode him," chuckled snake, when it was all over. "and you came out of it luckier than lots of 'em," added the foreman. "red pepper sure is a bad one!" "oh, shucks!" laughed snake. "that jest gave me an appetite." and, really, it seemed to. but perhaps snake was hungry, anyhow. after the meal there was a general talk about the raid of the rustlers. and then as the cowboys sat about in the evening they indulged in various forms of sport and fun, in which the boy ranchers joined. bright and early those who were to take the trail after the cattle thieves were on their way, taking with them enough food to last for several days. they were now better prepared than when they had first started out from diamond x. it was comparatively easy to pick up the trail left by the rustlers and soon our friends were riding after them, though of course several hours behind them. but as had been said, the ground was of a nature that did not lend itself well to haste, and if the thieves stampeded their animals they would, very likely, lose them. they could only go so fast and billee and his cowboys hoped soon to come up to the raiders. it was nearly noon when one of the cowboys who was riding on ahead, came to a stop on a little rise of land and, shading his eyes from the sun, looked long and earnestly off to his left. "see anything?" asked bud, who with his cousins rode up. "i think so, but i'm not sure," was the reply. "but doesn't it look like a bunch of cattle there?" and he pointed. the boy ranchers gazed earnestly. "it sure does look like 'em to me!" declared nort. "could it be one of our regular herds?" dick asked. "none of our cattle are down that way," the cowboy said. "then they're rustlers!" cried bud. "after 'em, boys!" chapter xiii a cloud of dust flappings of heels to the flanks of horses, the tightening of reins, firmer seats in the saddles and glances at the heavy revolvers swinging in their holsters at the sides of the riders came as a prelude to the burst of speed which immediately followed the sight of the distant herd of cattle being hazed across the prairie. "whoop-ee!" cried yellin' kid. "we'll show 'em what's what! whoop-ee!" "reckon you can stand a fight?" asked nort, looking at the leg of the cowboy, which had been severely injured. "shucks, yes! i'm all right now! i'd a leetle mite ruther lick a bunch of sheep herders than jest plain onery cattle rustlers," went on yellin' kid, "but anythin' for a fight!" "you said it!" chimed in some of the other rough but ready and earnest punchers. "i s'pose there will be a fight," mused dick. "unless they quit and run," said bud. "you don't mind a little thing like a fight, do you?" he asked his cousin. "of course not! i was only joking!" he quickly added as he saw a look on dick's face. "it won't be the first time we've had a scrap," remarked nort. all this while they were riding hard toward the distant group which, at first had been but a cloud of dust, but which now resolved itself into forms of horsemen and cattle. and as the outfit from diamond x approached nearer, it could be seen that the drivers of the cattle were not regulation cowboys from any ranch north of the rio grande. there was an air and manner about the horsemen urging on the weary cattle which betokened them as irregulars--rustlers, in other words. the advantage--such as it was--appeared to be with the boy ranchers and their friends, for they were on fresh horses, and could ride hither and yon without having to drive before them, and keep from stampeding, a bunch of cattle. as for the rustlers the success of their raid depended on keeping the cattle they had stolen. once the small herd got beyond their control, they might as well cut and run for it, since it would be a case of everyone save himself, and every man for himself. "some of you cut out the cattle, boys," advised old billee, as he spurred along with the youngest rider. for though this veteran more than doubled the years of the boy ranchers, he was almost as "spry" as any of them. "cut out the cattle, and we'll look after these rustlers." there were members enough in the outfit from diamond x to provide for a division of forces--enabling them to execute a flank movement, as it were, though this does not exactly describe it. "what's the best thing to do?" asked bud, willing to take advice from his father's able helper. bud was willing to learn, a most commendable spirit in a youth. "wa'al, this would be about as good a plan as any," remarked old billee, as he still continued to ride on, but at the same time he was, with his keen eyes, looking over the lay of the land. "bud, you and your cousins ride off to the left, with hank and sam, and see if you can cut out the steers. if you can circle 'em around and bring 'em up behind where we are now--or as near as you can. i'll take the rest of the boys and see if we can't speed up and close with the rustlers." bud at once saw that this was giving him and his boy chums, as well as sam and hank, the other two cowboys, quite the safest end of the battle. the cattle could be cut out without coming into very close contact with the desperate rustlers. the fight with them would be taken care of by the more experienced billee and his men. bud thought it over for a moment. he was not afraid of danger, but he was not foolhardy, and he knew the veteran had been in many more engagements like this than had bud himself. also bud was too good a soldier to object to taking orders. "all right," he finally said. "suits me, billee. how about you fellows?" he asked nort and dick. with short nods they agreed to billee's plan, and a few minutes later it was put into execution. the outfit from diamond x separated, and while bud and his party spurred ahead to cut out the cattle, the others circled around to make a "flank" attack, as it might be called. "here we go!" cried bud who, naturally, was the leader of the "cutting out" sally. on rushed the horses, the boys clapping heels to them and "fanning" them with their hats to urge them to greater speed. they were quite close, now, to the band of cattle being hazed away, and on some of the lagging steers could be made out the branding marks of the diamond x ranch. "those are ours all right!" cried bud to his cousins. "and we'll have 'em back soon," added dick. "we'd better begin shooting," called out hank, one of the two cowboys who had been assigned to duty with bud. this was not as serious as it sounds, for the shots were not to be directed at the rustlers but fired in the air to startle the cattle. in cutting out, or, rather, in separating from those who had stolen them the steers from diamond x, it was necessary to get the animals on the run. they could then more easily be driven where they were wanted. by this time, of course, the rustlers knew they were in danger not only of losing their ill-gotten cattle, but of losing their own freedom and perhaps their lives. they could be arrested and sent to jail for theft if they were caught. for a few minutes after the pursuit became close, the rustlers made an attempt to get the cattle into one of the many small valleys with which the country around there abounded. but they soon saw that it was a losing fight. the animals were too wearied to be driven at much speed. then some order seemed to have been given by the leader of the rustlers, for the nondescript bunch of cattle thieves swung off, and practically abandoned their four-footed charges. this made it easier for the boy ranchers, though the task of urging the cattle away from the line they were traveling was hard enough at best. "come on!" yelled bud, when he saw what was happening. "we've got 'em going!" this was true, as regarded the rustlers. they were about to save themselves if they could. with drawn guns, firing rapidly and yelling as loudly as they could, the boy ranchers rode in among the frightened steers, endeavoring to turn them off to the right. for a moment it seemed as if they were not going to do this, but eventually their tactics succeeded, and the leaders of the herd swung off. then the others followed and it was now a comparatively easy matter to drive them along where it was desired they should go. "poor things!" murmured dick sympathetically, as he saw the weary cattle. "we'll have to let 'em rest, bud." "guess you're right," agreed the son of the diamond x owner. "they won't be much good for shipping to market until they get some fat back on their bones." many of the cattle were in woeful shape, and all suffered from lack of water, since the rustlers had driven them so hard, endeavoring to get far away with them as soon as possible that they had not stopped to water them. "there's a little stream over there," announced sam, one of the cowboys who knew this part of the country well. "we can haze 'em over there and keep 'em for a while." this was considered the best thing to do, and soon the weary cattle were drinking their first water in many hours. afterward they all lay down to rest, not even eating until some of the weariness had passed. meanwhile the cowboys under old billee had come to close quarters with the rustlers and the fight started immediately. there was nothing unusual about it, the rustlers merely desiring to get away and the outfit from diamond x wishing to capture them to make them pay for their lawlessness. one rustler was captured, for he was so wounded that he fell from his horse. the others got away, one badly hurt, it seemed, for he had to be taken in charge by one of his companions who lifted him to his own saddle. as for billee and his forces, they suffered somewhat, two of the cowboys being painfully wounded by bullets. but, on the whole, the affair ended much better than might have been expected. the stolen cattle had been recovered, in as good condition as could be hoped for, and the rustlers had been driven off, with the exception of the wounded one. it was planned to take him to the nearest jail, but this trouble was obviated for the man died in the night. riding back after having driven off the rustlers, billee and his men found the cattle quietly resting, while bud and his friends were doing likewise, as they had ridden hard. "we'll camp here for the night," decided billee. "too bad there isn't a telephone here that we could use to send word back to your dad, bud. but we can't have everything." "no," agreed yellin' kid with a chuckle. "i'd like a room an' a bath with plenty of hot water, but i don't see any growin' on no trees around here!" however, the cowboys were used to this sort of life and they counted it no unusual hardship. a fire was made, those who had been scarred by bullets were looked after and then the ever-welcome "grub" was served. the next day, after the hasty burial of the dead rustler, on whom little sympathy was wasted, and concerning whose identity no one cared much, the march back to diamond x was begun, the cattle being slowly driven toward their former pasture. as not all the cowboys were needed for this, a sufficient number were told off by billee, and the remainder, including the boy ranchers, made better speed back to headquarters. there the news of the successful chase after the rustlers was received with satisfaction, and mr. merkel said he hoped it would be a lesson to other thieves. "i wish we could give the same sort of lesson to any sheep herders that might be around here," remarked bud. "that's so," said his father. "and perhaps you'd better be getting back to spur creek. no telling what might have happened while you've been away. we didn't leave anyone on guard." "i don't know as it was necessary," said bud. "but, all the same, we'd better get back." they made the start early the next morning--the boy ranchers, with yellin' kid and snake, and there was the promise of more cowboys to help them hold the "fort" should it be considered necessary. "well, everything seems to be all right," remarked bud as he and his party rode up to the shack on the edge of the stream. "no signs of the sheep yet." "and no smell, either," chuckled yellin' kid, as he sniffed the air. "it takes the perfesser for that!" said snake with a laugh. "i wonder what professor wright is doing?" said nort. "oh, digging up a lot of old bones, i reckon," bud answered. "but let's get grub and rest. i'm tired." the events of the past few days had been strenuous enough to make them all welcome a period of rest. and they had it, for a few hours. and then something occurred to start a series of happenings that lasted and created excitement for some time. it was toward the middle of the afternoon when nort, who had gone down the stream a little way, looked across spur creek and saw hanging in the hazy air a cloud of dust. "wonder if that's a wind storm," he mused. but as there was not a sign of vapor in the clear blue sky he gave up that theory. "guess i'd better let 'em know," he thought, turning back toward the fort. and when the others came out to look at the cloud of dust, on the mexican side of the river--a cloud which had grown larger--bud exclaimed: "sheep, i'll bet a hat!" chapter xiv the sheep arrive among the saddles, horse-gear, weapons, grub and other equipment that had been put in the fort at spur creek was a telescope. remembering this, bud rushed in to get it, while his companions stood in front of the place, gazing across the stream at the ever-increasing cloud of dust. "something's comin' on, anyhow," observed yellin' kid. "can't be cattle," remarked snake purdee. "they ain't spread out enough for cattle." this was one way of telling, for, as the cowboy said, cattle, meaning by that steers or a herd of grazing horses, separate much more than do sheep, which stick in a bunch as they feed. still there was no being certain of it until bud should take an observation through the glass. "might be another bunch of greasers--or rustlers," said snake, musingly. "there's plenty of both kinds down there," agreed nort, with a wave of his hand in the general direction of mexico, the border of which misruled, unhappy and greatly-misunderstood country was not far away. bud came running out with the telescope, pulling shiny brass lengths to their limit before focusing it. "we'll soon tell now," he said, as he raised the objective glass and pointed it at the cloud of dust, while he squinted through the eye-piece. a moment later, after he had made a better adjustment of the focus, he cried: "it's sheep all right! a big bunch of 'em!" "any men with 'em? no, i shouldn't call 'em men," hastily corrected dick. "no decent man would raise sheep." in this, of course, he was wrong. sheep are needful and many a rancher is making a fortune out of them, but at this time, and in this part of the west, a sheep herder was despised and hated by his fellows. "yes, there's a bunch of greasers or some one hazin' 'em on," reported bud. "here, kid, take a look," and he passed the glass to the older cowboy. the latter could but confirm what bud had seen and then, in turn, the other three had a look through the telescope, which brought the details of the oncoming herd of "woollies" startlingly near. "well, what we goin' to do about it?" asked yellin' kid, after they had made sure the sheep were headed toward the east bank of spur creek. "we're going to stop 'em from coming over here," declared bud determinedly. "maybe they don't intend to come," suggested nort. "what are they heading this way for, then?" demanded his cousin. "to get better pasture." "well, what pasture there is on that side of spur creek won't last the sheep very long!" exclaimed snake purdee. "they'll be over here in a couple of days at the most. reckon they think they have a right to this range." "which they haven't," said bud, "though how dad is going to prove his claim, with the papers gone, i don't see." "we'll prove it with force--that's what we'll do!" shouted yellin' kid. "that's what we're here for. that's what we got our guns for!" and significantly he tapped the one on his hip. "yes, i reckon we'll have to fight," conceded bud with a half sigh. he was not afraid, but he knew in a fight some would be hurt and perhaps more than one killed. and this was not as it ought to be. still with each side standing on what it considered its rights, what else could be expected? "how many greasers they got?" asked yellin' kid, after a pause, during which bud took another observation through the glass. the boy rancher looked, seemed to be counting and then, as he lowered the glass from his eye, he answered: "there's a dozen of 'em!" significantly nort silently, but obviously, counted those of his own party. there were but five, for some of the cowboys had been left at diamond x after the defeat of the rustlers. "we'd better let your dad know--what say?" asked kid of bud. "i think so--yes. and he'd better send out a few more men. we don't want to take any chances." this was considered a wise move. but before going in to telephone to his father--for that was the most rapid method of letting him know the situation so he could send help--before going to the instrument bud asked: "say, i'm wondering how, if those fellows intend to take this open range pasture--how are they going to get their sheep over?" "you mean over the river?" asked nort. "yes. how they going to get the animals across so they can feed on this side?" for a moment no one answered, then yellin' kid replied: "why, they'll just naturally haze 'em over; that's all." "you mean drive 'em through the creek?" asked bud. "sure." "the water's too deep." "maybe there's a ford," suggested kid. bud shook his head. "i tried to find one for my horse the other day," he said. "i thought i had but it was a quicksand and i was glad enough to get out without being stuck. there's no ford now for miles up and down the creek from here--that is, none that i know of, especially not since high water." for the level of spur creek had risen in the last few days, since the professor crossed, caused, it was learned later, by the diversion into the creek of a larger stream by some irrigation plan company further north. "well, if they can't make the sheep wade over they can swim 'em, can't they?" asked dick. "'tisn't so easy to make sheep swim," declared yellin' kid with a shake of his head. "sheep are scary critters at best. you might get them in the water if you had a good leader, but if i was a sheep man--which i never hope to be--i'd think twice 'fore i'd float 'em across a stream, 'specially if it had quicksands in." "well, this has," affirmed bud. "they come and go, the quicksands. they weren't here the other day but they're here now." "maybe they're going to ferry 'em across," suggested nort. "where they going to get boats?" asked snake, and that seemed to dispose of this question. "though maybe they carry collapsible craft," suggested dick, but this, of course, was not reasonable or practical. "no," said bud, "they either know some way of getting the sheep over here, or else they aren't going to cross." "they'll cross all right," asserted snake. "better let your father know how matters are," he suggested. bud went in to ring the home ranch up on the telephone, but he had no sooner given a few turns to the crank--for this was the old-style instrument--than he called out: "telephone wire is cut!" chapter xv a battle of wits this news came as a distinct shock not only to bud, who discovered it, but to the others of his party. "are you sure it's cut?" asked nort, hurrying into the shack after his cousin, who had come to the door to make the announcement. "well, it's dead, anyhow," bud answered. "i can't raise diamond x. and it sounds as if it were cut. or, rather, it doesn't sound at all. it's just dead." "maybe the battery's given out, or there's a loose connection somewhere," suggested dick. "let's take a look. i know a little about telephones." they tested the battery, to find that it was sufficiently strong to have transmitted signals provided everything else was in working order. but this remained to be seen. however, as the boys made test after test, in their limited way, they came ever nearer to the conclusion that the wire was, indeed, cut. for no answer came to the repeated turnings of the crank, though bud did succeed in making his own bell ring. the reason for his first failure had been a loose wire connection, which dick remedied. but, even after this, no answer came to the repeated turnings of the crank. "well, we've got to find the break and mend it!" declared bud, following several unsuccessful trials to get into communication with the home ranch. "'tisn't cut right around here," said nort, who went out to take a look at the thin length of wire, strung on makeshift poles, that formed a connecting link between the fort at spur creek and the home ranch of diamond x. "i can trace the wire as far as i can see it." "no, 'tisn't likely they'd cut it so near the shack, for we'd spot that first thing," said bud. "we'll have to trace it, that's all. i'll get my horse." "are we all going?" yellin' kid wanted to know. "what about the sheep?" and he waved his hand toward the ever-nearing cloud of dust which floated over the backs of thousands of sharp-hoofed animals. "oh, that's so!" exclaimed bud. "somebody's got to stay here." "reckon snake and i can handle whatever comes up here," said yellin' kid grimly, as he tapped his gun. "they won't get here for half a day, anyhow, and by then it'll be night. they can't do anything after dark, and two men will be plenty here." this seemed reasonable enough, and after talking over plans this one was decided on. bud and dick, the latter knowing most about telephones, would ride along looking for the break, and would try to mend it. meanwhile nort would ride on to diamond x ranch, since it was important to let mr. merkel know what was about to happen--that the dreaded sheep had come and might soon overrun the open range he claimed as his own property. also help was needed--more cowboys to hold the fort--and it was risky to depend on the broken telephone for summoning them. so nort was intrusted with the work of carrying the unwelcome news and of bringing up reinforcements. meanwhile bud and dick would do their best to find and repair the break, and snake and yellin' kid would be on guard at spur creek. as kid had said, there was little danger of the sheep men bringing up their woolly charges before dark, and after that not much could be done in the way of crossing the river, if, as bud had said, there was no ford at this place, and the danger of quicksands further to keep unwelcome visitors on the mexican side of the stream. "well, i'll see you when i get back," remarked nort as he rode off with a wave of his hand to his brother cousin and the two remaining cowboys. "think you'll make it to-night?" asked dick. "i don't see why i can't," was the answer. "if there's going to be a fight in the morning you'll want help here. and if the other boys ride back from diamond x i'll be with 'em." "oh, the boys will be ridin' back all right, as soon as they hear there's a prospect of a fight!" chuckled kid. "you said it!" added snake. pausing to watch nort ride off on his mission of carrying news and summoning help, and taking another look at the still approaching cloud of dust that betokened the flock of sheep, bud and dick rode along the back trail, following the telephone line. as has been said, the wire was not cut near the cabin. it could be seen, a tiny line against the clear, blue sky, stretching its slender length on top of the poles. "they were too cute to cut it near the shack. they figured we wouldn't notice it for a long time, maybe, and they'd have a chance to get up closer," said dick. "you mean the sheep herders?" asked bud. "sure! who else?" asked his cousin. "you reckon it was them that cut the wire, don't you?" "don't know's i thought much about it, but, now that i have, why, of course, they did it," bud agreed. "unless it was the cattle rustlers," he added. "you mean the ones we just had a fight with?" "that's who." "no, i don't reckon they did," dick remarked. "in the first place we licked 'em pretty badly. they scattered, i'm sure, and they didn't head in this direction. and what good would it do 'em just to cut a wire after we'd gotten the cattle away from 'em?" "oh, general meanness, that's all," answered bud. "they wouldn't do that out of spite and run the risk of being caught--not after what happened to 'em," declared dick, and bud answered: "well, maybe you're right." then they rode along in silence for a while, making sure, as they progressed, that they did not pass a break in the telephone line. the thin copper conductor was intact as they could see. "they must have gone about half way back--between the creek and our ranch, and snipped the wire there," said bud, after a period of silence. "i reckon so," agreed dick. "that would be what we'd do if we had it to do; wouldn't we?" "why?" "because we'd want the break to come as far away as possible from either end, to make it take longer to find and mend it." "that's right, dick. i never thought of that. then there isn't really much use looking along here. we might as well ride fast to a point about half way. we'll find the break there." "no, we don't want to do that, bud. we'll just ride along as we have been going, and we'll look at every foot of wire." "but i thought you said----" "i said if we had to cut an enemy's telephone line, we'd probably do it about half way between the two main points. but we can't take any chances. these fellows may have reasoned that we'd think they cut it half way, and, just to fool us, they may have gone only a quarter way." "oh, shucks! if you think onery sheep herders have brains to do any of that sort of reasoning, you're 'way off, dick!" "well, maybe i am, but we won't take any chances. we'll inspect every foot until we come to the break." and this plan was followed. it was not until after they had ridden several miles that they saw, dangling between two poles, the severed ends of the wire. "there it is!" cried dick. "good! i mean i'm glad we've found it!" voiced bud. "it may be all sorts of bad luck that it's cut. for they may have figured that we'd divide forces to mend the break, and they may take this chance to rush kid and snake and get possession of the land." "i don't think so," remarked dick as he dismounted to approach the pole and look at the severed wire. "those sheep can't travel as fast as that, and we'll have reinforcements at the fort when they try to cross spur creek." "but they may send a bunch of greasers on ahead of the woollies," objected bud. to this dick did not answer. he was busy looking at the end of the dangling wire. "is it cut or broken?" asked bud, for there was the possibility of an accident having happened. "cut," was the answer. "what you going to do?" "splice it," was the answer. "that's all i can do now. i brought some extra wire along." not pausing to climb the pole and re-string the cut wire, which plainly showed marks of cutting pliers, dick simply connected one severed end with the other, using a piece of copper he had brought from the shack for this purpose. "too bad we haven't one of those portable sets so we could cut in and see if everything was working," observed bud, when the break was mended. "yes," agreed dick. "we'll have to wait until we get back to the fort to make a test and see if we can talk." "it's nearer to go on to our ranch," said bud. for the break in the wire had been discovered more than half way to diamond x. "yes, it's nearer, but we can't take any chances," objected dick. "we may be needed to help snake and kid." "that's so," agreed bud. "i forgot about that. we'll go back to the fort and see if we can call up the ranch." they made better time on the return trip, for they did not have to ride slowly along looking for a break in the wire. on the way they speculated as to what might have happened during their absence in chasing the cattle rustlers. "all we're sure of is that they cut the telephone wire," said bud. "but there's no telling what they may have laid plans for," added dick. "i guess those sheep men are smarter than we gave them credit for." "it does seem so," admitted bud. "we'll have to match our wits against theirs when it comes to a show-down--seeing who's going to keep this rich grazing land." "one thing in our favor is that we're in possession," said dick, as he patted his pony's neck. "but one thing against us--or against dad, which is the same thing," said bud, "is that his papers proving possession are stolen. and these sheep men seem to know that." "yes," agreed dick, "they seem to know it all right." they returned to the fort on the bank of spur creek just before dark, and, to their delight, found the telephone in working order. for the ranch had called the cabin, mr. merkel wanting to know how matters were at spur creek. he complained of having tried several times to get into communication with the fort, and he had guessed there was a broken wire but he had not suspected it was cut. then, when he tried again, he found communication restored. this, of course, was after dick and bud had found and mended the break. nort had not yet reached the ranch at the time his father finally found the telephone working. but the need of help was told of over the restored wire, and several cowboys were at once dispatched, not waiting for the arrival of nort. "i'll send nort back to you as soon as he gets here," promised mr. merkel. these matters having been disposed of, bud and dick had a chance to ask what had transpired at the fort since they left. "jest nothin'--that's all," answered snake. "but i think there's goin' t' be somethin' doin' right shortly," observed yellin' kid. "what makes you think so?" asked bud. in answer the cowboy pointed across the river. the cloud of dust had settled, revealing more plainly now thousands of sheep. and as the defenders of the fort watched they saw, separating from the sheep, a number of men who approached the mexican bank of the stream. what were they going to do? chapter xvi strange actions until there was what in law is termed an "overt act," the boy ranchers and their friends could do nothing against the sheep herders who were there in plain sight, with their woolly charges on the far side of spur creek. "overt act" is a law term, and practically means an open act as distinguished from one that is done in secret and under cover. thus if the sheep herders should openly attempt to cross the creek, and drive their animals up on mr. merkel's land--or land which he claimed--then bud and his associates could proceed against them, driving them off--"repelling boarders," as dick expressed it, having in mind some of his favorite pirate tales. but until the sheep men had done something--had committed an overt act--they could not be molested as long as they remained where they were. "it's like this," explained bud, for his father had made matters plain to him over the mended telephone line. "we got to wait until they set foot on our land--or until some of their onery sheep begin to nibble--and then we can start something." "what, for instance?" asked dick. "well, we can order 'em off--that is, order the greasers off," replied bud. "not much use talking to sheep, i reckon." "nor to a greaser, either," murmured snake. "one is about as bright and smart as the other." "anyhow," resumed bud, "we can't do anything until they start something." "not even if we know they're going to do it?" asked another of the cowboys who, meanwhile, had arrived from diamond x ready for a fight. "not even then," answered bud. "but once they cross the creek and land here, then we'll begin," and he looked to his gun. "what'll we do with the sheep?" asked the cowboy. there seemed to be no doubt in the minds of the men as to what they would do with the greasers. "we'll have to dispose of 'em," said bud regretfully. "it seems a pity, too, for the poor things haven't done any harm. but it's either their lives or those of our cattle. the two can't live on the same range, and the sheep have no right here." "shoot 'em and drive 'em back into the water if they try to swim across--is that it?" asked dick. "yes, but hang it all!" cried bud, "i hope that doesn't happen. i sure hate to do it!" and to give them credit, the others felt the same way about it. meanwhile the sheep having settled down to a quiet but fast feeding--which is their characteristic--the actions of the band of greaser and mexican herders who had them in charge was eagerly watched by the boy ranchers and their friends. they saw two horsemen ride down to the bank of the creek at one spot and urge their steeds in. for a time all seemed to go well, but suddenly, when a few yards out in the stream one of the mexicans frantically called to his companion, who shouted an inquiry as to what was wrong. something very dangerously wrong seemed to be the trouble, for the first mexican was now frantically appealing for help, and a moment later his companion sent his lariat hissing through the air, the coils settling around the frightened man who grasped the rope and leaped into the creek. but the horse remained in the water, though the animal was wildly struggling to turn and go back to the southern shore, along which the sheep were feeding, some of them slaking their thirst in spur creek. pulling his companion along by the lariat, the still mounted mexican made for the shore he had so recently quitted, leaving the lone horse to struggle by itself. "what does that mean?" cried dick. "quicksands--just what i told you about," answered bud. "there are a lot of places where the bed of the creek is pitted with quick sands, and this greaser struck one." "one did and the other didn't," observed snake, for it was evident that the rider who had used his lariat had found firm footing for his steed. "that's it," bud explained. "you can't tell where the sands are and where they aren't. i happen to know some places that are free," he went on, "but, even there the water is too deep for the sheep to get across, on account of the current." the two mexicans, one on his horse and the other swimming at the end of the lariat, had reached the shore they so recently quitted, on what object could only be guessed. then there was very evidently a conference among the sheep herders during which the excited men who had taken part in the adventure pointed to the spot where the horse was struggling. "i hope they aren't going to leave that poor brute to suffer," murmured yellin' kid, his voice low for one of the few times in his career. but it was evident that whatever were the faults of the sheep herders they did not number among them too much cruelty to a horse. for when it was evident that the animal could not free himself, a number of the greasers rode as close as was safe, and tossed their lariats about the animal's neck. then they began pulling. but the quicksands had too firm a grip on the animal's legs. he had sunk lower in the stream, and his struggles were less, simply because he was now so nearly engulfed in the powerful suction of the water-soaked and ever-shifting sands. "they'll never get him out,' said dick. "have to pull his poor head off if they do," agreed bud. and this was so evident that the mexican sheep herders soon gave up the attempt. they dared not even go close enough to the horse to release their ropes, but, casting them off from their saddle horns, had to see them sink down in the quicksands with the poor beast. for this is what happened. the unfortunate animal, unable to extricate himself from the terrible grip of the sands, being too firmly held to permit of being dragged out, sank lower and lower. the water came half way up his sides. it closed over his back, but still his head was free. with all his power the brute struggled, but with four legs gripped he could do little more than shudder convulsively. then as the waters came closer and closer to his head, caused by the fact that the horse was sinking lower and lower in the soft sand, the beast gave a terrible cry--terrible in its agony. a moment later it was gone from sight forever. a hush fell upon the assemblage of cowboys in front of the spur creek fort of diamond x ranch. and a hush, no less, came over the bunch of mexican sheep herders on the far side of the stream. but that the man could leap off and swim to shore, aided by his companion's lariat, the fate of the horse in the quicksands might have been his fate. "what's going on?" asked a voice behind bud and dick. they turned quickly to behold nort, who had ridden back from the ranch headquarters. "what you all looking at?" he asked, for the cowboys were gazing silently at the spot in the stream where the tragedy had just taken place. they informed nort in a few words. "well," he remarked, "that's the best protection we could have against the sheep coming over--quicksands in the creek." "the only trouble is," said dick slowly, "that the quicksands are only in certain places. they can cross safely elsewhere." "the point is, though," observed bud, "that they can only guess at those places. and, not knowing where they are, may make them stay away altogether." "i hope so, but i don't believe it," remarked snake. "you'll see they won't give up so easily." nor did the sheep herders thus forego an attempt to graze their flocks on the rich pasture claimed by mr. merkel. it was too late that day to attempt anything more. night settled down, but with an augmented force of cowboys at the fort the boy ranchers were not apprehensive. tours of duty were arranged, so that two or more cowboys would be on guard all night. however, the hours of darkness passed with no further activity on the part of the mexicans. in the morning, however, the forces from diamond x ranch observed strange actions on the part of their enemies. "what in the world are they up to?" asked nort, as he and his brother and cousin looked across the river. well might he ask that. chapter xvii "we crowed too soon!" not only the boy ranchers, but their more experienced cowboy companions were puzzled by the actions of the sheep herders. it was the period after the morning meal, the smoke of which fires was still rising toward the sky. the sheep men appeared to have slept in the open, with nothing more than their blankets for a bed and their saddles for pillows. but they were accustomed to this, and so were our friends, though they were glad of the fairly comfortable bunk house, or "fort," as they dubbed it. but all interest was centered in what the greasers were doing. some of them separated themselves from the sheep, which really did not require much more attention than that given them by some intelligent dogs, and a bunch of the hated and despised men were approaching the river, carrying long poles. "what do you reckon they're going to do?" asked dick. "make a raft, maybe," answered nort. "though how they can float a lot of sheep over on a raft made of a few bean poles is more than i can understand." "it would take them a month or more to float the sheep over, one at a time, on a bunch of poles," objected bud. "that isn't what they're going to do," declared dick, after closely watching the actions of the mexicans. "they're going to leave, that's what they're planning." "leave? what do you mean; go away?" asked his brother. "that's it--yes. they're going to make those dinguses the indians use trailing after their horses--a pole fastened to either side of the animal, and the ends dragging on the ground. between the poles they carry their duffle." "nonsense!" laughed bud. "in the first place these aren't indians, though they're as bad, i reckon. but they didn't come with those pole trailers; so why would they make 'em to go away with? all they own they can pack in their hats." "i guess you're right," admitted dick, after thinking it over. "but they're going to do something." they were all watching the mexicans now. the men with long poles--which they must have brought with them as none grew in the vicinity--now closely approached the edge of the creek. they could not be going to make a raft--the nature of the poles precluded that. then, as one after another of the sheep herders thrust the end of his pole into the water, wading out a short distance to do this, bud uttered an exclamation. "i have it!" the lad cried. "you mean you're on to the game?" asked dick. "yes." "what is it?" cried the two brothers. "they're feeling around to find the places where the quicksands are," announced bud. "you mean so they can jump in and get rid of themselves?" grimly asked snake purdee. "i mean so they can tell where _not_ to cross," said bud, though this was unnecessary, since they all grasped his meaning when he spoke of the quicksands. "i guess you're right, son," observed old billee, who had come back to the fort with the return of the cowboys. "they're looking for safe fords and i shouldn't wonder but what they'd find 'em." "i wouldn't be too sure of that," said a tall lank cowboy. "what do you mean?" billee wanted to know. "wa'al, they may find the places where it's safe to cross--i ain't sayin' but what they is sich places," went on "lanky," as he was called, "i know this creek putty well, an' i've crossed it more'n once, swimmin' a hoss over an' sometimes drivin' cattle. but th' trouble is sometimes when you find a safe place it doesn't stay safe very long." "what do you mean by that?" asked bud, who thought it his duty to learn all he could about matters connected with his father's ranch. "i reckon he means the quicksands shift--is that it, lanky?" asked billee dobb. "that's it--yep! a place that may be safe to cross to-night may be the most dangerous in the mornin', or even in less time." "oh, so the creek is going to favor us after all!" exclaimed bud. "if it's as treacherous as that it will keep those greasers on the far side." "not altogether," said billee. "they may have just enough fool luck to strike a safe place and get over here." "well, if they come we'll be ready for 'em!" grimly said nort, and the others nodded in accord with this sentiment. then, as there was nothing else to do for the present, they watched the actions of the mexicans--actions that were not so strange and mysterious as they had been before bud hit upon the right solution. and that it was a correct guess no one could doubt who watched the sheep herders. with their long, thin poles they went up and down the bank of the stream, thrusting the ends into the mud, or whatever formed the bottom of spur creek. at times, as i have said, the mexicans would wade out, perhaps until the water came as high as their middle, in order to thrust their poles farther out into the stream. but when a man thus waded another stood near with ready lariat. "they're taking no chances on being caught as the horse was," said nort. "right-o!" exclaimed his brother. the sheep men, however, seemed to find so many places where there were quicksands--or indications of them--in the vicinity of the place just across from the fort--that they soon moved more than a mile down stream. that is, some of them did. others moved up, the party separating and leaving a few men guarding the sheep. "as if we'd cross and try to catch any of the woollies!" laughed bud, motioning to those on guard. it was late in the afternoon when the survey or test of the creek seemed to be completed. the two parties with their poles came back to what might be called the "camp," and a consultation seemed to be taking place. in the still, quiet atmosphere the excited voices carried across the creek, though what was said could not be made out. "they seem to be having a dispute," observed nort. and this was evident. one bunch of the greasers evidently held to one opinion, and a minority disagreed. however, in the end the majority ruled and then, to the surprise of our friends, the greasers broke camp, leaped to their saddles, and started driving their flocks back toward the south, whence they had come. for a few moments our friends, watching this move, did not know how to interpret it. but as it dawned on them that the sheep men were "pulling up stakes," and departing, billee cried: "we've got the best of 'em, boys! or, rather, the quicksands worked for us. they've gone back where they came from." "and i hope they stay," sang out yellin' kid. this was the hope of all, and it seemed likely to be carried out. as night settled down, the mass of sheep and their herders grew more and more indistinct as greater distance was put between them and those holding the fort. "well, we'll wait a day or so to see if they don't come back," said billee, "and then we'll mosey to diamond x. there's a pile of work waitin' for us there." "and we'd like to get back to happy valley," observed bud. "that's right," agreed nort and dick. for the first time since the alarm about the sheep men rest was easier in the fort that night. the danger appeared to be disappearing. the treacherous nature of spur creek, with its shifting bottom of quicksands--that might be here one day and a mile farther off the next--had served our friends a good turn. at least it seemed so, until the next morning. then, as billee dobb arose early and, as was his custom, went out for a before-breakfast survey, he uttered a cry. "what's the matter?" asked bud, coming to the door of the fort. "we crowed too soon, that's what's the matter," answered billee. "we crowed too soon!" chapter xviii skirmishes bud did not need an interpreter to understand what the old cow puncher meant. if he had been at all doubtful, a glance toward where billee pointed would have solved the mystery. for, some miles down the creek was a cloud of dust, and, not only a cloud of dust, but that which caused the haze--the sheep and their herders. "they've come back!" cried bud. "and just where we didn't expect 'em." "'twould have been mighty poor policy on their part to come back where we did expect 'em," dryly observed billee. "it was their game to fool us, and they did it." "then it was all a trick!" cried bud. "reckon it was," agreed billee with a grin, as nort, dick and the others strolled out in readiness for breakfast. "that poling of the river was all a bluff," said nort. "oh, not exactly," declared billee. "they used the poles to try to find a place free from quicksands. not findin' it opposite our fort, they decided to try farther down. then some smart aleck among 'em--an' we got to give 'em credit for it--thought of makin' it look as though they were givin' up--retreatin', so to speak. "that's the way it looked to us, and we crowed too soon, jest as i said a minute ago. they kept on goin', circled around an' now there they are, ready to cross spur creek farther away." "but we can stop 'em there, same as we could here," said dick. "yes, but we got to move our base of supplies an' that takes time," said billee. "an' while we're doin' that they may make a crossin'--that is, if they can avoid the quicksands. they may even find a ford down there, so the sheep can walk over without havin' to swim." in his excitement billee dropped most of his final g's, and clipped his other words. "there is a ford there," declared lanky, the tall, thin cowboy. "any quicksands?" nort wanted to know. "that i can't say. the sands shift so you can't tell where they are." "well, there's only one thing to do," declared bud. "some of us have got to go down there and stop 'em from crossing. this is the first skirmish of the fight." "we'll come with you," offered nort and dick. "hold on a minute--don't be rash," counseled old billee. "it'll take more'n you three lads to stop them greasers and the sheep." "well, we're under your orders," bud admitted, saluting the veteran. "well then, you three go," advised billee, "and snake and kid will go with you. we'll bring some grub down to you." for it might be too late to wait until after breakfast, simple as that meal was, and as quickly served as it could be. there was no time to be lost. bud and his boy-rancher cousins realized this. soon they were in their saddles, riding down the creek toward where the sheep had been herded together on the southern side of the stream. there were the same bunch of greasers--the boys easily picked out and recognized certain characters, even across the creek, which was wider here and more shallow. if bud and the others expected to engage in a sharp fight as soon as they reached the scene, they were disappointed. true, the sheep herders became aware of their arrival, and there was some talk, and not a little excitement, among the greasers. but there were no hostile acts, and no attempt was made to drive over any sheep. "i wonder if there is a ford here?" said yellin' kid. "i reckon there is," said snake purdee. "you can see where it has been used," and he pointed to marks on their bank of the stream. "they either know about this place, or they've made some tests and are satisfied that it's safe," declared bud. "but if what lanky says is true, though it may have been safe early this morning, it might not be safe now," said dick. "that's true, but i think they'll take a chance," bud declared. "there isn't fodder enough on that side to last the sheep very long." this was perfectly true, and it was evident that the herders would endeavor to get their woolly charges on the other side of the stream as soon as possible, to take advantage of the rich grazing on the open range, newly made available to all comers. "but i thought when the government opened new land it could only be taken by citizens, or those about to become citizens," questioned dick, when, as they watched the sheep herders, they talked over the situation. "that is the law," said bud. "but down here you'll find the law doesn't amount to much when a man wants a thing. he generally goes and gets it, and thinks about the law afterward. that's why dad has to do what he is doing. if the law was as tight here as it is in the east, he could get out an injunction, or something, against these herders, and stand them off until he could find his papers proving his claim." "think he'll ever find 'em?" asked nort. bud shook his head. "it's hard telling," he answered. meanwhile there appeared to be "nothing doing" among the sheep herders. they had gathered their flocks together and were making a rough camp, as if they intended to stay for some time. then, about an hour later, billee arrived with a couple of his cowboys, bringing food for bud and his comrades--food that was greatly appreciated, for it was a long time since supper the night before. the boy ranchers ate and waited. still there was no action on the part of the greasers. they appeared content to wait for something to "turn up," as mr. micawber would say. "what are we going to do when they start to cross?" asked nort. "that's so--we'd better make a plan," added dick. "shall we fire at the men, their horses or the sheep?" bud wanted to know. "fire at everything and everybody!" decided snake vindictively. "we've got to break up the first rush." "and yet it seems too bad to kill innocent animals," went on bud. "do you know, i have an idea!" he cried. "no? really?" asked dick with a playful attempt at sarcasm. "sure i have," bud went on. "what we want to do is to drive them back, isn't if?" "that's it," said billee. "we not only want to drive 'em back, but we want to discourage 'em from coming over again." "then i think i know what will do the trick!" went on bud. "it won't be powder and bullets, either," he added. "we won't have to kill anything or anybody." "how you going to do it?" asked snake, a bit skeptical. "i'll show you," said bud. "wait until i make one." his companions wondered what his scheme might be. the older cowboys were great believers in the efficacy of the . , and they had their guns ready. but bud busied himself with some things he took from a bundle he carried on his saddle. dick and nort saw their cousin had some strong rubber bands, bits of cord, squares of leather and a y-shaped branch he cut from a cottonwood tree. "say, are you making a sling shot?" asked dick. "that's just what i'm making," answered bud. "if we each have a slingshot, and a supply of stones, i think we can turn the greasers and their horses, as well as the sheep back without killing any of 'em!" for a moment they regarded bud in silence. then nort cried: "i believe it'll work!" and as bud finished his sling shot and sent a stone zipping into the creek with a vicious "ping!" billee cried: "that's the best trick yet. i think it'll work! i hated to shoot to kill, but i didn't see any way out of it. now we can sting 'em enough with stones to turn 'em, especially as they'll be in the water. bud, i think it'll work." "i don't want to throw a monkey wrench in the gears," said snake softly, "but it 'pears to me that while we're shootin' harmless stones they'll be firin' real bullets. an' where will we be then?" "we don't run any more risks than if we were firing bullets, too," said bud. "and i think with them having to guide their horses in the water, look out for quicksands and drive the frightened sheep over, we can demoralize 'em with these slingshots." "sure you can!" cried billee dobb. "come on," he ordered. "every man make a slinger. it's like the old bible story of david and goliath. but how'd you happen to have those rubber bands, bud?" "oh, i got 'em to make a model airship," the boy confessed, "but i didn't find time. i've been lugging 'em around this last week. now they'll come in handy." in a short time each cowboy had made himself a slingshot, of the style you boys have, doubtless, often constructed. with strong rubber bands they send a stone with great force. the slingshots were no sooner made, and a supply of ammunition secured from the edge of the creek, than an unusual movement was observed among the sheep herders. some of them separated from the main body, and began driving a flock of the lambs, rams and ewes toward the creek. "ready for the first skirmish!" cried old billee. "let her come!" sang out yellin' kid. nearer to the edge of spur creek approached the sheep herders. the animals bleated and tried to turn back, but the dogs barked at them and snapping whips whirled viciously over their backs. then, too, they were urged on with horses at their heels. "they're coming right over," said dick to his brother and cousin, the three boy ranchers being close together. "and not one of 'em has a gun out," added bud. "i reckon they are making this a sort of test so they can claim we fired on 'em first if it comes up in a law court. well, we aren't exactly _firing_ at 'em," he chuckled. "we're just _stoning_ 'em." "and we'd better begin to stone!" cried nort. he drew back the strong rubber bands of his sling. in the leather piece was a round pebble. nort took aim at one of the approaching mexicans. the skirmishing was about to begin. chapter xix open warfare "zip!" a stone from nort's sling cut the air with a vicious ping, and not only that, but it caught one of the greasers on the side of his head. he uttered a cry, dropped his reins and clapped a hand to the smarting place. another instant and he had lost control of his horse, which first swam down stream and then turned to go back to the shore he had left. one reason for this was that nort had let fly a stone that took the horse on the flank. and nort was careful not to shoot as hard at the horse as he had at the rider. in fact the horse was not hurt at all--merely frightened, for the stone was like a fly-bite. but it was enough. meanwhile the other defenders of spur creek had been using their slings to advantage, first stinging the greaser riders with vicious stones and then, more lightly, tapping the horses to demoralize them rather than to hurt them. this sort of warfare proved most effective, for by turning the horses and sending them back, in spite of all the efforts of their riders, the forces of the sheep herders were thrown into confusion. and this, really, was the object of bud and his companions. they did not want to kill so much as a single sheep. all they desired was to keep inviolate the land rightfully owned by mr. merkel. and he felt that he still owned it, in spite of the action of the united states congress, and even though his papers had been stolen. in this initial skirmish, which soon developed into a fight, the advantage, at first, was all on the side of the diamond x force as the greasers did not fight back. some of them carried guns, but did not draw them. it might be reasoned that they wanted to go into court with "clean hands," as the legal term is. that is, they could claim they were fired upon when attempting to make a peaceable crossing of the creek in order to pasture their sheep on the new government open range land. one part of their contention might be true, but the one implying that mr. merkel's land could be taken by any chance comer, was not true. at any rate, first along, the mexicans did not fire back. meanwhile bud and his comrades were fairly peppering the greasers with stones from the rubber slings. no one was badly hurt--indeed, bruised faces and hands were about the only injuries, but if you have ever faced a fusilade from a battery of putty blowers or bean shooters you know how disconcerting it is. then, too, the horses proved allies of our friends. for the light "peppering" the animals received from the slings made the animals nervous and disinclined to face the shower of stones. some few sheep were driven into the stream, and it was evident that, for the present at least, this was a good crossing--shallow enough and with no quicksands. but once the sheep began to hear and see the stones "zipping" in the water around them, some of the woollies feeling the pebbles--though only slightly--a new problem was presented to the mexicans. their sheep, like the horses, turned about and made for the southern shore. so that, in less than five minutes after the attempt to make the crossing was started, it had failed, and the hostile forces withdrew. "guess we made it too hot for them," chuckled bud. "for a while, yes," agreed nort. "but it isn't over yet." "no," added his brother. "if they give up now i miss my guess. they'll try again." and so the greasers did. withdrawing to a safe distance from the slings--which could only just about carry across spur creek, a conference was held among the sheep herders. then they came on again, trying in the same place. but bud and his friends were ready, with an unlimited supply of ammunition. stones were plentiful along the creek, and each cowboy had his pockets full. one advantage of the sling shots was that they could be "loaded and fired" much more rapidly than the guns--by which i mean the . revolvers. and of course on humanitarian grounds there was no comparison--no one was killed or even severely wounded by the stones. they were only painfully hurt. but this was part of the game. it was open warfare and had to be endured. besides, from the standpoint of bud and his comrades, they were in the right and the sheep herders were in the wrong. i have no doubt but that the herders of the sheep reasoned just the other way--holding that they had a right to cross the creek and pasture their charges on the rich grass beyond, and arguing that the diamond x outfit was in the wrong. and in this conflict lies my story, such as it is. after the third attempt to cross the creek with their sheep, being driven back each time, the mexicans seemed to lose patience. there were angry voices as most of the greasers gathered about one man who seemed to be their leader, and who had, it was evident, counseled pacific measures. now these came to an end. for on the "fourth down," as dick laughingly referred to it, the greasers began shooting bullets as they rode their horses into the stream. "now it's a fight in earnest!" cried bud. "draw your guns!" ordered billee sternly. the real battle was about to open. chapter xx the flag of truce the advantage in the fight was on the side of the diamond x outfit, even though it was outnumbered. for the greaser sheep herders nearly doubled the force of the cowboys. but this, in itself, was not such a handicap as would at first appear. naturally any cowboy held himself more than a match for any two greasers, and if this were not enough, the sheep men had the disadvantage of having to cross a stream in the face of fire. this is always likely to result in disaster, even in more modern warfare than that which i am writing about. there are several reasons for this, whether the attacking party, crossing the stream, is afoot or on horses. progress through water is always slow. if you have ever tried to run while wading in a millpond or at the stream adjacent to the "old swimming hole," you realize what i mean. it is easier to swim than to run through water, even where it is not very deep. the same holds true for horses. and to attempt to swim was out of the question, for the greasers, as they must keep their guns out of water. the only thing for them to do was to start their horses across, with the men in the saddles. and the mexicans probably knew, from a test, that the water was not deep enough to sweep the animals off their legs. so then, with the handicap of rushing water against them, the horses could not make much progress, and, while crossing, the enemy force would be subject to the fire of the boy ranchers and the cowboys from diamond x ranch. "well, boys, i guess we'll have to let 'em have it," said billee regretfully as he saw the advancing sheep men. nearly all the greaser force was concentrated on crossing spur creek, only a few being left in charge of the animals. "but shoot at the horses first," advised billee. "i hate to do it, but it's better to have the killing of a horse on your mind than the murder of a man. though this isn't murder--defending your property against a band of thieves. so shoot at the horses first!" this, cruel as it may sound, had to be done. it was a case of the lives of the animals or the lives of our friends. for it could not be doubted that, once the mexicans had gained a footing on the northern side of the stream, they would drive the defenders away--shooting to kill if need be--and then the way would be clear for bringing over the sheep. several shots rang out from the ranks of the cowboys, and there was a wild flurry and scramble among the horses in the stream. two of them were hit and spilled their riders into the creek. but these men grasped the tail of other horses and kept on. "they aren't going to give up easy," murmured dick. "but it's up to us to make 'em," said bud fiercely. "if they get over it will be all up with us, for they're twice as many as we are." "they shan't get over!" declared nort. and it was with the same spirit that the intrepid frenchman muttered: "they shall not pass!" if the boy ranchers and their comrades hoped to escape scathless they were painfully disappointed. for though the sheep herders were under the handicap of having to cross the stream, manage their frantic horses and shoot--all at the same time--they managed to do enough of the latter to wound several of the cowboys, one seriously, as developed later. and, just as dick was reloading his gun, he gave a cry and the weapon dropped from his hands. "hit?" cried bud. "a little," dick answered, and he tried to smile, though it was not a very good attempt. "get back under cover," advised nort, for there was cover, of a sort, behind where the cowboys were fighting, a range of low hills that would effectually screen the bullets of the greasers. "oh, it doesn't amount to anything," dick insisted, holding his left hand over his right, for it was the latter that was hit. "it's only a scratch." "well, get a bandage on it and come back in the game--if you can, boy," advised billee, who had ridden up on hearing dick's cry. "we'll look after it later--when we drive these skunks back where they belong." this, from billee, amounted to an order, and dick obeyed, wheeling his horse and taking refuge behind a hill. there, in anticipation of some casualties, a sort of emergency dressing station had been laid out, with water, lint and bandages. there was water not only for man but for beast, since it was impossible to let the horses go to the creek in the face of the fire from the sheep men. so dick and his steed drank thirstily and then dick bandaged, as best he could, his wounded hand. it was more than a scratch, being, in fact, a deep flesh wound, but the bullet had struck a glancing blow and had gone out again, for which dick was thankful. meanwhile he could hear the shooting going on at the scene he had left. the cowboys, riding up and down the bank of the creek on their fleet horses, offered very poor marks for the indifferent shooting of the mexicans, or the casualties on the part of the diamond x forces would have been much heavier than it was. even then several were hit, and billee's hat was carried off his head by a bullet, which, if it had gone a few inches lower, would have ended the career of that versatile cowboy. but the quick and accurate firing of the cowboys was having its effect, and it was an effect that was telling not only on the morale but on the fighting ability of the sheep men. for several horses were killed, and a number of men put out of the game. for a few minutes, though, it seemed that, after all, the attackers would make a landing. but with a burst of furious yells snake and kid led a charge against the foremost of the sheepmen and turned them back. they could not stand the withering fire that was poured in on them and they wheeled their plunging horses in the swirling stream and made for the opposite shore whence they had come. "hurray!" cried bud as he saw this. "we've got 'em on the run!" shouted nort. just then dick rode back to join the fray, having bound up his wounded hand as best he could unaided. "what's doing?" he asked. for answer his brother and cousin pointed to the retreating greasers. "good!" exclaimed dick. "do you think they'll come back?" he asked. "no telling," remarked bud. "i don't believe we'll have gotten rid of them so easily," was nort's opinion. there was some confusion now amid the ranks of the sheep men. those who were wounded were being cared for, and they all gathered around what had been their central camp fire. "they're debating whether to give up or not," was snake's view of it. and if this was the subject of the talk it ended in a decision not to give up the fight. for presently another attempt was made to cross the creek. this time the greasers divided forces, separating about a quarter of a mile, and thus necessitating a division in the ranks of the cowboys. this, of course, made the odds against the diamond x outfit rather heavier. but again the greasers were repulsed, with several wounded, though the same might be said of old billee's forces. again the sheep men withdrew across the creek. again was there a conference, and then the same tactics were tried as at first--the main body came directly across the stream. but now a new element entered into the battle. for, no sooner had the fight started for the third time than some of the mexicans began driving into the water, at a point perhaps half a mile from the fray, a flock of sheep. "look at that!" cried yellin' kid. it was evident that something must be done. it called for another division of the defending force, now somewhat reduced in numbers because of injuries. but the crossing of the sheep had to be stopped, as well as the passage of the armed men. and, after a hard struggle, this was accomplished. the sheep were the easier driven back, for the animals were soon frightened and thrown into confusion. but the mexicans themselves were desperate, and some of them even succeeded in reaching the opposite shore, setting their horses on mr. merkel's land. however, there was a fierce rally against them on the part of the cowboys and they were driven back. this was not without desperate work, however, and several on each side suffered minor injuries. the trouble was that the cowboys held their enemies too lightly. it was easy, and perhaps natural, for them to despise the sheep herders. but, after all, these were men, and rough and ready men at that. they had something to fight for--their lives and their charges, and to lose one was to endanger the other. so, for a time it looked, as bud said afterward, "like touch and go," so near was the tide of battle to turning against the cowboys. both sides were now pretty well exhausted, but the disadvantage of having to cross the stream still hampered the greasers. they must have felt this, for after another consultation among themselves something new and unexpected happened. a lone rider was seen to separate himself from the hated band on the mexican side of the creek, and he slowly approached the ford. "watch him!" cried billee, who had picked up his hat with a hole in the brim. "he's up to some trick!" declared bud. "shouldn't wonder, son," agreed billee. a moment later they saw what the "trick" was, if such it could be called. from under his coat the man produced a white flag and waved it vigorously toward the boy ranchers and their friends. "a truce!" cried bud. "guess they've had enough!" chapter xxi a legal contest holding the flag of truce above his head with both hands, the better to indicate that he was unarmed, the man, a bearded mexican to all appearances, rode his horse half way across the stream. he was then within easy talking distance of the cowboys and old billee called: "that's far enough, greaser! stay right where you are and speak your little piece. keep him covered, boys," he went on in a low voice to those around him. "oh, he's covered all right," replied bud. and, indeed, half a dozen guns were trained, more or less conspicuously, on the bearer of the flag of truce. "well, say what you've got to say," ordered billee grimly. "_señors_, we have had enough of fight--for the time," came from the herald. and at the sound of his voice the boy ranchers, with one accord, exclaimed: "del pinzo!" "at your service, _señors_," came the mocking retort, and del pinzo, for he it was, smiled, showing his white teeth through his black, curling beard. it was the beard which had prevented his recognition up to now. though there was something vaguely familiar about the actions of the leader of the sheep men. and he who bore the flag of truce--del pinzo no less--had been the leader in the attempts to cross the creek. "well, what do you want?" demanded billee. "we might have known it was some of your dirty work, though i must say you've got a pretty good false face on with all them whiskers. what do you want?" "to cross the creek, of course, _señor_ billee, and pasture our sheep on that land which belongs to us." "belongs to you! how do you make that out?" demanded bud, unable to keep still longer. "ah, the young _señor_ speaks," mocked del pinzo, smilingly. "then he should know that this land has been thrown open to all who may wish to graze sheep on it." "this land was never intended for sheep, del pinzo, and you know it!" cried billee. "even if it was, it belongs to mr. merkel, though you'll never see the day he raises sheep--the stinking critters!" "you say the land belongs to _señor_ merkel?" asked del pinzo, lowering his hands and the flag of truce, perhaps unconsciously. "keep 'em up!" snarled snake purdee, and the flag went up again in a trice. "you know this land belongs to mr. merkel," went on billee. "doubtless, then, he can prove it in a court of law," mocked the half-breed greaser. "sure he can!" asserted the old cowboy earnestly and with conviction, though he knew in his heart this was not so. but, as he said afterward, he wasn't going to let del pinzo do all the "bluffing." "then we shall go to law about it," said the mexican leader. "and we shall have action against you for shooting at us when we peaceably tried to cross and pasture our flocks on the open range land that is given away by the so grand government of the united states." "they wouldn't give any to _you_!" cried billee. "all the land you'll ever own in the good old u.s.a. will be six feet to hold you after somebody shoots your head off, as ought to be done long ago. you're not a citizen and you know it, and you can't claim a foot of land, even if mr. merkel didn't own it!" "i claim it not for myself--but for my friends, the so poor sheep herders," said del pinzo, in what he meant for a humble voice. "i but act as their leader and adviser. i seek nothing for myself." "first time i've ever known _that_ to happen!" chuckled billee. "you're generally looking out for number one first of all. well, if you want to give your friends good advice, tell 'em to go back home and start making _frijoles_ for a living. they'll never earn their salt raising sheep--that is, not on this side of spur creek." "that is to be seen, _señor_ billee," mocked del pinzo, still smiling. "once more i demand of you that we are permit to pass the stream and let our so hungry sheep feed." "and once more i tell you there's nothin' doin'!" snapped billee. "your sheep can starve for all of me!" "for the third time i ask and demand that you let us pass," called del pinzo, who seemed to have more patience than billee, whatever else might be said in disfavor of the greaser. "and for the third and last time i tell you to take your gang and your sheep back where they came from!" cried billee. "now what are you going to do--fight?" "yes, _señor_," was the calm answer. "i shall fight, but not no longer with guns. i fight you in the courts. my friends, they are of citizens of the united states. they have of a rights to the land and of their rights i shall see that they get. _adios!_" he bowed courteously--he was a polite villain, i'll say that for him--and, lowering the flag of truce, he rode back to join his comrades on the other bank. for a time there was silence amid the boy ranchers and their friends, and then, as movements among the sheep men indicated that they were getting ready to depart, bud asked: "what do you think is up, billee?" "wa'al, i think, just as del pinzo said, he and those with him have had enough of powder and lead. now they'll try the courts. i'm afraid your father is in for a legal battle, bud." chapter xxii nort's plan silently the cowboys from diamond x ranch watched the sheep herders and their innocent, though undesirable, charges fade away to the south. the greasers took their wounded with them, and several spare horses they had brought along made up for those that regretfully were shot by the cowboys. "i hope we've seen the last of that bunch," remarked dick, tenderly feeling of his wounded hand. "no such good luck," declared nort. "do you really think they mean to try and get pasturage here, billee?" he asked. "i sure do," replied the veteran. "they can't feed their sheep much longer on the other side of the creek--they'll have to come here--if they can." "but we stopped 'em," said snake. "only for a time," said billee. "as del pinzo boasts, now they'll try the courts." "but that greaser won't have a standing in any decent court," exclaimed bud. "he's a jail bird--he isn't even a citizen!" "how does it come he is working for the interests of these greasers, some of whom may be citizens?" asked nort. "del pinzo will do anything by which he can get a dollar or have a little power," was billee's opinion. "how he got out of jail i don't know. maybe it's by some power over a government official, and maybe he hopes, by that same hold, to influence the courts against us. anyhow, he's out of jail and he's cast his lot in with the sheep men for his own advantage, you can gamble on that--not theirs. he has stirred them up to demand certain things which they regard as their rights under the new law. "well, maybe they are their rights, on land that hasn't already been claimed, but that doesn't apply here. your dad owns this land, bud, and we're going to see he doesn't lose it by any tricks of del pinzo." "he seems to have given up his tricks for a time," remarked bud. "but only for a time," added billee. "he'll have us in court next. not that there's an awful lot of law out this section," he said with a grim smile, "but what there is can be mighty troublesome when you rub it the wrong way." there was nothing more to be done now as long as the sheep men had departed. though at that, billee and his cowboys were not going to be caught unawares. with all del pinzo's talk of applying to the law, he might be "bluffing." he might seek to draw the defenders away and then rush back, getting the sheep across the stream. once on the diamond x range it would be hard to dislodge them. "and it only takes a few hours of sheep on a pasture to spoil it for horses," remarked bud. so, fearing treachery, a guard was left at the point where the battle of the crossing had been fought. the remainder of the cowboys returned to the "fort," and from there word was sent to mr. merkel of what had occurred. "so del pinzo will have me in court, will he?" remarked the owner of diamond x ranch. "well, i reckon i won't worry until i see sheep on my land." but for all that, mr. merkel could not help wishing his papers had not been stolen. for though he might, eventually, prove his claim without them, it meant a delay. and during this delay the other side--the sheep men--might obtain some legal advantage that would enable them to take at least temporary possession of the land in dispute. and, as bud had truthfully remarked, only a short occupancy of pasture by the odorous sheep would spoil the grazing and water for sensitive cattle and horses. for several days after the fight nothing happened. dick and the wounded cowboys received medical treatment, and all except one were soon on the road to recovery. poor lanky had received a grievous wound which eventually caused his death, and he was sincerely mourned. meanwhile mr. merkel kept on with his ranch work, and the boys, visiting happy valley, found matters there going well. they were far enough away not to need to worry about sheep for a time. then, too, their papers were safe and in case dispute arose as to ownership the matter could easily be settled. during this comparatively quiet spell, part of which time was utilized by mr. merkel in a vain attempt to discover the missing deeds and other documents, the boy ranchers paid several visits to the camp of professor wright. that eager scientist was delving away after fossil bones as enthusiastically as if he had never discovered any. "what are you on the track of now?" asked nort. "a brontotherium," answered the professor. "what did he say--a bronco?" asked bud. "we've got some over at our place you can have for nothing," he added with a laugh. "they're not dead yet, though some of the boys who tried to ride 'em wish they were." "a brontotherium," explained professor wright, "is an extinct animal, something like the rhinoceros, but much larger--more than the size of an elephant, i hope to prove. there are indications that i may find the bones here." "i hope you do," remarked dick. the boys wandered around the camp, and were about to leave the scene of the digging and excavating when nort uttered an exclamation. "what's the matter?" asked his brother. "look! there's del pinzo!" exclaimed nort, and, surely enough, the figure of the wily greaser or half-breed was seen moving among the men engaged by the professor to help him and his assistant in digging up fossil bones. "you have that rascal again, i see, professor," said bud rather coldly. "well, he certainly is a great help," was the answer. "he has great influence over the mexican laborers." "too much," grimly remarked bud. they went away, paying no further attention to del pinzo though he smiled at them in what he doubtless intended for a genial manner. "what do you make of it, bud?" asked nort. "of what?" "professor wright having that rascal with him?" "well," remarked bud, with as judicial an air as he could assume on short notice, "you can look at it in two ways." "for instance?" suggested dick, teasingly. "we're in for something good, now," he whispered to his brother, though not so low but that bud could not hear. "well, either professor wright knows del pinzo is a rascal, and takes to him in spite of that, or he doesn't know it--though how he can be ignorant i can't understand," declared bud. "if he doesn't--he's the only one who knows the game who thinks del is any better than a common, onery horse thief!" "maybe something will happen, soon, to open his eyes," suggested nort, as they rode on. when they reached the headquarters at diamond x they found sheriff hank fowler in earnest conversation with mr. merkel. "anything doing, dad?" asked bud. "yes. i'm summoned to court to prove my title to the spur creek land," was the answer. "hank has just served me with the papers." "i'm tellin' him he don't need to worry none," said mr. fowler, with a genial grin. "he can easy prove his title." "perhaps not so easy as you think," remarked mr. merkel, "since my papers are missing. if i could only get them back!" "and i think i have a plan that will get them back!" suddenly exclaimed nort. chapter xxiii in disguise all eyes were turned on the lad, but he did not seem abashed. "what's the idea?" asked dick, who thought perhaps his brother was "joshing." "it just occurred to me, after i saw del pinzo at the professor's camp," nort said. "it may sound foolish, but it's worth trying, i think." and when, a little later, he had explained to mr. merkel and sheriff, they clapped the lad on the back heartily and said: "go ahead! it's worth trying!" nort needed several days to perfect his plans for a daring excursion into the enemy's country, so to speak. but before he had completed his arrangements del pinzo, through some rascally lawyers, had gotten in the first blow of the legal battle. as mr. merkel had said, he was summoned to court to defend his claim to the rich grazing lands of spur creek. if he had had his documents this would have been comparatively easy, but with the stealing of the deeds and other papers, the task was harder. of course mr. merkel engaged a lawyer, but the first skirmish resulted in victory for the sheep men. as had been surmised, del pinzo did not directly appear in the matter, though he was in court consulting with the lawyers engaged by the herders. and, as might have been expected, some of the claimants to rights under the new open range law were legal citizens of the united states and, as such, entitled to take up a certain amount of land. "but they have no right to take mr. merkel's land!" said the ranchman's lawyer. "we grant that they have a right to pasture sheep, or even elephants, for that matter, on land they can rightfully claim. but they can't claim land already taken up and given over to the pasture of cattle. we recognize, your honor, that to the court there is no difference between a sheep and a cow." "you are right there," admitted the judge, "and i suppose you are prepared, mr. bonnett, to substantiate your client's legal claim to this land by deeds and other papers." "unfortunately my client's deeds are missing," mr. bonnett had to admit, at which admission there was a grin from del pinzo, so bud thought, at least. "but if we have time we can bring the necessary papers into court. therefore we ask for delay." "and we oppose delay, for the reason that our sheep are suffering from lack of fodder and we have a right to pasture them on the spur creek lands!" cried the opposing lawyer. "i'll grant a week's postponement," decided the judge. "if in that time, mr. bonnett, you can not file proof, i'm afraid----" he did not finish, but they all knew what he meant. he would be obliged, in strict law, though perhaps not justice, to let the sheep men come in on land that mr. merkel claimed under rights of former laws, when he had taken them up after a government opening. as has been said, legal matters in this sparsely settled part of the united states were not as strictly enforced as in large cities. there the loss of deeds could be made up by other evidence. but in the west the papers were needed and without them, even though in possession, there would be trouble to prove a claim. "but if the sheep come, even though the court says they may, there'll be another fight!" declared the ranchman, in spite of his lawyer's efforts to keep him quiet. it was two days after that when nort started out of the ranch house one early evening. there had been a consultation before he left, and when he was ready to go he almost collided with yellin' kid, who entered. "what's the matter with you, greaser?" cried the kid angrily. "what you doin' in here, anyhow?" "well, kid, if you don't recognize me i guess i'm safe!" chuckled nort. "nort!" shouted the yellin' kid. "what the----" "not so loud!" cautioned nort, laughing. "how do you like my disguise?" he asked. and then, changing his voice to a whine, he begged in slangy spanish for a cigaret (which, of course, he did not smoke) though he muttered his "thanks, _señor_," in a manner that caused yellin' kid to exclaim: "they'll never find you out! good luck to you!" "_adios_," laughed nort. chapter xxiv the brontotherium there were busy times in the camp of professor wright, who was searching for the fossil bones of a once living brontotherium. the scientist felt sure he was on the right track, though one of his college assistants was openly skeptical. "this isn't the right rock formation at all, to dig for a brontotherium," he declared. "so some of my helpers held the time i discovered the other gigantic fossil bones," retorted the professor. "but i proved that i was right. we shall yet find a brontotherium--or what is left of one--you'll see!" bud and dick found time to stroll, occasionally, over to the camp of the scientist, for there was much to interest them there, and they wanted to be on hand when the "great discovery," as professor wright referred to it, should be made. "do you know," remarked bud, as he and his chum were riding over to the scene of excavating operations one day, "there's something quite satisfying in going over among so much scientific knowledge." "particularly when we don't have to absorb any of it ourselves, under compulsion," remarked dick with a chuckle. "it's like visiting a school and watching the other fellows boning away." "yes," agreed bud. "we don't have to open a book nor learn a lot of names as long as your arm. i wonder why they gave such long names to these prehistoric monsters, anyhow?" "give it up," spoke dick shortly. "there must be a reason." "i reckon there is, but why in the name of tunket couldn't they call 'em something shorter? wouldn't it sound funny if we had to call a horse a brontosaurus?" "i'd teach mine to come without calling if it had a name like that!" chuckled dick. "but say, bud, while we're over there--in the camp i mean," and he pointed to it among the distant hills, "don't mention nort's name." "no, dad said not to, but i don't understand it at all." "neither do i, but the least said the better. and if anyone over there--especially del pinzo--asks for nort, we're not to even admit he isn't with us. sort of say he'll be along presently." "i savey!" the boys reached the scene of the digging operations which were quite extensive, professor wright being liberally supplied with money from some learned society that was interested in securing for the college the largest possible collection of fossil bones of long extinct monsters. the boys knew some of the workers, and more than a few of the young college men--some of the professors--who had been brought to the place by mr. wright. and it was while bud and dick were again talking over how foolish it seemed (to them) to use such long names in speaking of the long-dead monsters that professor wright heard them. he did not happen to be busy at that particular moment, and he was a man who never neglected an opportunity of imparting knowledge. he would do this not always with discrimination, for bud used to tell with a laugh how once he overheard professor wright talking most learnedly to an ignorant greaser who had merely stopped to inspect a pile of bones. "he was getting off the longest string of jaw-breaking greek and latin terms," said bud, telling the story, "spouting away how many millions of years ago the dinosaurs trod the earth, what they lived on, how they fought among themselves, and he was dwelling particularly on how a change of conditions wiped all these birds off the earth." "meaning, by birds, the dinosaurs and the like?" asked dick. "sure." "and how did the greaser respond to it all?" dick wanted to know. "oh, he took it all in with open mouth," chuckled bud. "every now and then he'd out with a '_si señor_,' which encouraged professor wright to go on." "and how did it end?" asked dick. "oh, the prof. kept spouting away for an hour or more, showing bone after bone of some he'd dug up (this was before the present occasion) and when he was all through he leaned back with a jolly satisfied smile on his phiz. "but say, dick," went on bud, "i wish yon could have seen the look on the dear old prof.'s face when the greaser pointed to the bones and grunted out: "'him good plenty much make soup!'" "no! really?" "as sure as i can throw a rope! the idea of boiling up the million-year bones to make soup! i sure thought the prof. would die! after that he didn't spout his wise stuff to any more greasers." "i shouldn't think he would." but on this occasion professor wright had a ranch more receptive and intelligent audience. for, as i have said, overhearing dick and bud discussing the "jaw-breaking names," as the boys termed them, the scientist approached them with a reassuring smile on his face and said: "you are somewhat like the old lady, told of in the book written by professor lucas of the american museum of natural history. in his introduction he speaks of the necessity for using what are termed 'big' words--that is scientific terms, and he mentions an old lady who said she wasn't so surprised at the discovery of all these strange animals, as she was at the fact that someone knew their names when they were found." "but you don't know the names when you find them; do you?" asked dick. "don't you name them after they are found?" "in a way we do, yes," answered the scientist. "but in the case of those already found--and i am searching for specimens of some extinct animals already identified--we have settled upon names. "as professor lucas remarks, the real trouble is that there are no common names for these animals. as a matter of fact, when they existed there were no people on earth to name them, or, if there were, the names given by prehistoric man were not preserved, since they wrote no histories. "and, as a matter of fact, those who complain that these names are hard to pronounce do not stop to think that, in many cases, the names of the dinosaurs are no harder than others. they are simply less familiar and not so often used. you wouldn't call hippopotamus a hard word; would you, boys?" he asked. "it isn't hard to pronounce, but i'd hate to have to spell it," chuckled bud. "it's easy if you take it slow," declared dick, and, then and there he spelled it. "well, you've been to more circuses than i have," countered bud. "that's it!" cried the professor, seizing on the opportunity to impart a little information. "the word hippopotamus is familiar to you--and even to small children--because it has often been used, and because you have seen circus pictures of it. well, if we had brontotheriums on earth now, everyone would be using the name without stopping to think how to pronounce it, and they could spell it as easily as you can spell hippopotamus. most words of latin or greek derivation are easy to pronounce once you try them. "there are other names of animals in everyday use that would 'stump' us if we stopped to think of them, but we don't. we rattle off mammoth, rhinoceros, giraffe and boa constrictor easily." "yes, they sound easy enough," argued bud. "well, all you need to do is to apply to the extinct monsters the same principle of pronunciation that you use in saying hippopotamus, and you have done the trick," went on professor wright. "in fact, it is all rather simple." "simple," murmured dick. "bront--bront--brontotherium!" "take it by degrees," advised professor wright, "and remember that generally these names are made up of one or two or even more greek or latin words. sometimes a greek and latin word is combined, but that really is not scientific. "now, in the case of the brontotherium, we have two greek words which excellently describe the animal whose bones i am after. that is the description fits, as nearly as anything can to something we have never seen. "there is a greek word--_bronte_ it is pronounced in english, and it means, in a sense, thunder. another greek word is _therion_, which means wild beast. "then bronto--bronto--therion must mean--thunder beast!" cried dick, rather proud that he had thus pieced together some information. "that's it!" announced professor wright. "you see how easy it is. change _therion_ to _therium_ and you have it." "but why did they call it a thunder beast?" bud wanted to know. "there doesn't seem much sense in that," admitted the scientist, "until you stop to think that paleontologists adopted the word 'thunder' as meaning something large and monstrous, as thunder is the loudest noise in the world." "not so bad, after all," was dick's admission. "i'm glad to hear you say so," commented the professor. "to go a bit farther, take the word dinosaur." "i know the last end of it means a big lizard," put in bud. "yes, and the front of it--the prefix _dino_, means the same thing that _bronto_ signifies--something large, terrible and fear-inspiring. dino is a form of word taken from the greek, _deinos_ meaning terrible and mighty, from its root _deos_, which means fear. "so those who first discovered these great bones, having reconstructed the animals whose skeletons they formed, gave them scientific names best fitted to describe them. can you think of anything more aptly descriptive than 'thunder-lizard,' to indicate a beast shaped like the lizards we see to-day, and yet whose size would terrify ancient man as thunder terrified him?" the boys were really enjoying this scientific information, dry and complicated as it must seem in the way i have written it down here. but the professor had a way of making the most dry and scientific subject seem interesting. "what gets me, though," said dick, "is how they know about how these big lizards and other things look when they only find a single bone, or maybe one or two." "that is puzzling at first," admitted professor wright. "perhaps i can illustrate it for you. take, for instance, the dinornis--and before we go any farther let me see if you can give me a good english name for the creature. try it now--the dinornis." he looked expectantly at the boys. "dino--dino--" murmured bud. "that must mean--why that must mean fierce or terrible, if it's anything like dinosaur." "i'll encourage you so far as to say you're on the right track. in other words, you are half right," said the scientist. "suppose you take a try at it," and he turned to dick. "there isn't much left," laughed the lad. "suppose you take it this way," suggested the scientist. "lop off just di--and assume that bud has used that. you have left the syllable nornis." "nornis--nornis--it doesn't seem to mean anything to me," sighed dick, for he was rather disappointed at bud's success and his own seeming failure so far. "i'll help you a little," offered the professor. "instead of saying di-nornis, call it din-ornis. did you ever hear the word _ornithology_?" "sure!" assented bud. "it means--_ology_ that's the science of," he was murmuring to himself. "don't tell me now--i have it--the science or study of birds. that's what ornithology is--the study of birds." "correct," said the professor. "ornis is the greek word for bird, and when we put in front of it di, or din, meaning fear, thunder or terror, we have a word meaning a terribly large bird, and that's just what the dinornis is--an extinct bird of great size. "but what i started to tell you was how we can sometimes--not always and sometimes not correctly--reconstruct from a single bone the animal that once carried it around with it. the dinornis is a good example. "some years ago there was discovered the pelvic and leg bones of what was evidently an enormous extinct bird. now, of course, our knowledge of the past is based somewhat on our knowledge of the present, and if we had but the pelvic and leg bones of, say, a crow, we could, even without ever seeing a crow, come pretty nearly drawing the picture of how large a bird it is, and of what shape to be able to use such a pelvis and such leg bones. "so the men who reconstructed the dinornis went at it. they set up the pelvis and leg bones and then, with plaster or some substance, and by working in proportion, they reconstructed the dinornis, which is about the shape of the ostrich or the extinct moa of new zealand, only larger. here, i'll show you what i mean." sitting down on a pile of dirt and shale rock, excavated by some of his workers, professor wright, on the back of an envelope, sketched the pelvic and leg bones and then from them he drew dotted lines in the shape of a big bird like an ostrich. "you see how it is proportionately balanced," he remarked. "a bird with that shape and size of leg would be about so tall--he could not be much taller or larger or his legs would not have been able to carry him around. "take, for instance, the giraffe. if you found some of their long, thin leg bones, and had nothing else, and had never seen a giraffe, what sort of a beast would you imagine had been carried around on those legs?" he asked the boys. "well, a giraffe is about the only kind of a beast that could logically walk on such long, thin legs," admitted bud. "and there you are," said the professor. the boys were more interested than they had believed possible, and they began to look forward eagerly to the time when some of the giant bones might be uncovered. "what gets me, though," said dick, believing that while knowledge was "on tap," he might as well get his fill, "what i can't understand is how long ago they figure these things lived--i mean the dinornis and dinosaurs," he added quickly, lest the professor resent his "pets" being called "things." "there's a good deal of guess-work about it," admitted the scientist. "the question is often asked--how long ago did such monsters live. but we are confronted with this difficulty. the least estimate put on the age of the earth is ten million years. the longest is, perhaps, six thousand million----" "six thousand million!" murmured bud in an awed voice. "and maybe more," said professor wright. "so you see it is pretty hard to set any estimate on just when an animal lived who may have passed away six billion years ago--it really isn't worth while. all we can say is that they lived many, many ages ago, and we are lucky if we can come upon any slight remains of them." "do you really think you'll find some fossil bones?" asked dick. "i'm sure of it!" was the answer. "hello! that looks as if they had found something over there!" he cried, as some excitement was manifest amid a group of laboring greasers some distance away. the professor hurried there, followed by the boys. they saw where some men, down in a shale pit had uncovered what at first looked to be a tree-trunk. "it is part of the hind leg of the great brontosaurus!" cried professor wright, in intense excitement. "that's what it is--the brontosaurus!" "but you want a _brontotherium_," insisted one of the helpers, a professor in the making. "i don't care what i get, as long as they are fossil bones!" cried mr. wright. "but i shall yet find a brontotherium here--of that i am certain. careful now, men!" "say, he's really found something!" cried dick. but alas for the hopes of the professor! when the object was taken out it proved to be only part of the skeleton of a long dead buffalo, the bones being so encrusted with clay or mud as to appear much larger than they really were. "well, too bad," sighed the professor. "but better luck next time. come again, boys." and so the digging went on as fast as could be done, for each shovel of earth and each dislodged stone was carefully examined by the scientist or one of his scientific companions for any trace of the bones of an extinct monster. under the urging of del pinzo, the greasers, all of whom had been engaged by him, worked hard--harder than they would have done had del pinzo not been there to spur them on. professor wright admitted this, and said it was why he was willing to pay the half-breed to oversee the laborers. and of all who labored none was more active than a certain young greaser, in ragged garments and with a most dirty face, who seemed to be in all parts of the excavating camp at once. he leaped down into holes, he climbed mounds and delved there a while; he labored with pick and shovel. he was all over at all times, it seemed. so active was he that he attracted the attention of del pinzo, who, strolling over to the youth remarked, in mexican spanish: "i don't seem to remember you. where are you from?" to which, in native dialect, he was answered: "i come in my brother's place. san feliece he is much sick this day. i take his place." del pinzo thought back rapidly. one of his workers of this name was missing, and, well--all greasers looked alike. he turned, and the youth, with a quiet chuckle, resumed his activities. but, as the youth labored, his eyes seemed to follow del pinzo more than they kept to the matters immediately in hand. though he struck hard with his pick, and took out heaping shovelfuls, this youth ever had his eyes on the half-breed, watching and watching as del pinzo strolled about the camp grounds. it was the third day of this young greaser's appearance in the fossil excavations, and coming close to the end of the week, which period of grace had been allowed mr. merkel by the court. unless the deeds were soon produced the sheep would scatter over the spur creek lands and this would mean the beginning of the end for the cattle men. suddenly the comparative quiet of the fossil camp was broken by loud yells, and there seemed much excitement in a place where professor wright had been examining earth and rocks as the debris was deposited from an excavation. the ragged youth, who had said he came to take the place of his ill brother, raced over the ground toward the excited group. he found the professor gazing eagerly down into a sort of cave that had been discovered when the digging reached a certain depth. "look out there now! be careful!" cautioned the scientist. "i think we have found it. here, you look intelligent!" and he motioned to the greaser youth whom del pinzo had questioned. "get down in there and make the opening a little wider so i can see what we've come upon. but be very careful. if there are bones we don't want to break them. perhaps you'd better tell him, del pinzo," suggested professor wright. "he probably doesn't understand my english." thereupon del pinzo loosed a string of mexican spanish, at which the youth nodded, and proceeded to enlarge the opening to the small underground cavern. as the light of day was allowed to enter, professor wright leaped down into the hole and stood almost at the side of the youth. then, suddenly, the scientist cried: "i've found it! i have discovered it! the gigantic brontotherium! success at last!" and as the youth stepped aside to allow the scientist to enter and gaze upon the immense fossil bones which had just been laid bare, the youth looked at del pinzo, hastening across the camp ground, murmured: "i, too, have found it! success at last!" chapter xxv the end of the sheep court had convened. it was the day set for the decision in the spur creek open range matter--a decision which would say whether or not sheep could be pastured on land that the owner of diamond x had long claimed as his own. in the open west--where there is much hard work and little play--unless a man makes the latter for himself--the opening of court, even for small matters, was an occasion for the "gathering of the clans." from far and near, those who could get away to attend the sitting of the judge, and sometimes the trial of cases, were always on hand. it was the same sort of an occasion as in the east is the circus, the cattle show or the county fair. at court, as at the circus and fair, friends who had long been separated met again, and, not infrequently, relatives found those of whom they had long lost trace. and so, as there was a gathering of lawyers, a judge or two, some witnesses and any number of mere hangers-on in the city where court had been convened, there were heard on all sides such greetings as: "well, ef thar ain't ole bill! put here there, bill!" "horn-swoggle me ef 'tain't nate! well, gumsozzle me!" two hard and calloused hand would meet in a crack like that from a small gun and two bearded faces, seamed and wrinkled, would light up with pleasure. near them--all around them--similar scenes were being enacted, and, not infrequently, ancient enemies would thus come together, with none of the kindly greetings that i have indicated. often as not there would be the drawing of guns and an exchange of shots, more or less dangerous under any circumstances, and particularly so where there was a throng as at the opening of court. but on this occasion all grudges seemed to have been forgotten or buried, for there was no shooting. the feeling was of the friendliest, save that an important issue was to be fought out between the sheep men on one side and the cattle men on the other. to both sides the issue meant much, for it meant success or failure in what they elected to gain their livings by means of. so it cannot be wondered at that there were more or less serious faces as men met and inquired one of the other: "how do you think it's going?" "well, you can't tell much about it," the answer might be. "these lawyers and judges----" "that's right. they don't seem to use common sense--some of 'em." "but what sort of a case do you s'pose diamond x has got, anyhow?" "pretty good, i hear." "well, i hope they have. gosh! if we're goin' t' be overrun with them onery sheep jest as we've got things runnin' nicely fer cattle--wa'al, i don't want t' live around here--that's all i got to say!" exclaimed one grizzled cowman. "same here!" commented some of his hearers. "sheep's no good; never were any good; an' what's more, never will be any good!" "that's right!" came a deep-voiced chorus. to hear them tell it one would think that a sheep had no rights at all and that a sheep man was the worst being on earth, and yet, as a matter of fact, many a cowman, sick of the eternal beef that he had to eat, welcomes a tender bit of roast lamb. but such is the world! to the cattlemen the sheep owners and herders were despised and hated of men--not fit to live within the same thousand-mile area of cattle and horses. of course sheep was not the direct issue. as was said, the point turned on whether the spur creek land came under the provisions of the open range, as defined by congress, and once this was settled a man could pasture elephants on the land he staked out, provided he could get elephants to stay there. but the coming of the sheep meant the going of the cattle. and that is why the courtroom was so filled with spectators. dick was there, his bullet-wounded hand almost better. bud was there, as was his father and many cowboys from diamond x. del pinzo, with a grin on his evil, bearded face, was there also. "we will take up first the matter of the open range land," said the judge. "the matter was laid over until to-day to enable the defendant to produce certain papers in court substantiating his claim to pasturage along spur creek. are you ready to proceed, mr. bonnett?" and he looked at mr. merkel's lawyer. "your honor," began the attorney, "we hoped to be able to settle the matter definitely to-day. i expected to show the deeds proving our claim. but, unless a certain witness whom i depended on soon arrives, we shall have to proceed to trial. if this witness were here, and if he could prove what i hoped----" "you will never be able to prove anything!" broke in the sneering voice of del pinzo. "silence in the court!" cried sheriff hank fowler, but almost as he spoke the decorum was again broken by a voice which cried in ringing tones: "oh, yes, we can prove everything, del pinzo! here are the deeds that prove mr. merkel's claim to the land, and i can prove that you stole them the night of the shooting!" "_san diabalo!_" muttered del pinzo, turning quickly. "it is the brother of feliece!" "not exactly," laughed the voice of the newcomer. he snatched off a wig of black, wiry hair and stood revealed as--nort shannon! he tossed a bundle of papers to mr. merkel's lawyer, and then all eyes turned on del pinzo, who feverishly was examining a bundle of documents he tore from an oiled-silk bag. "_san diabalo!_" he cried again. "they are gone!" "no, they are here!" mocked nort. "i found where you had hidden the real papers, and i just took them out and substituted some of my own." del pinzo glared about the court for a moment, and then made a movement. "catch that scoundrel!" cried the judge. but it was too late. del pinzo slipped out, leaped to the back of his fleet horse and though the pursuit was soon organized, he got away. "where did you come from, nort?" asked dick, as he shook hands with his brother. "direct from the professor's camp. didn't get here any too soon, either, as it happens. my horse went lame and then there was a lot of excitement when they found the brontotherium." "oh, did they find another of those monsters?" asked bud. "yep! the grandfather of 'em all, i reckon!" laughed nort. "and during the ruction i managed to get to the place where del pinzo had hidden the deeds he stole. i took them out and put in some worthless documents so he wouldn't suspect. then i came on here. now i guess they won't pasture any sheep at spur creek." and they did not. with the finding of mr. merkel's deeds, which had been stolen, his ownership was clearly established. no one now dared claim his lands. of course there were parts of the open range where the sheep herders could go in, but none were as choice or as much desired as the pastures of spur creek. and they were far enough away not to menace diamond x. "the application of the plaintiff for permission to take over the spur creek range is hereby denied," announced the judge. and thus ended the case of the men whose cause del pinzo had taken up. some of them were innocent parties to his treachery, and he had engineered the whole scheme to enrich himself eventually. for these innocent victims sorrow was expressed. but even sorrow would not induce a cattleman to allow sheep on his ranch. and so, a few days later the sheep which had been held in readiness south of spur creek were driven back into mexico. "well, nort, suppose you tell us how it all happened," suggested bud, when matters at diamond x were about normal again. "how did you come to disguise yourself like a greaser, go off to the professor's camp and get the deeds where del pinzo had hidden them? tell us." "it isn't much of a story," began nort, modestly enough. "in the first place, you know about as much of the beginning of it as i do. del pinzo heard about the government opening the range lands, and he knew the deeds to spur creek must be here. so he organized a robbery and carried it out, drawing us away from the place by a lot of shooting. professor wright, as of course you know, had nothing to do with it. his coming was just a coincidence. "those mysterious lone riders were sent by del pinzo to see how things were going, and that rocket signaling was, as we guessed, communication from one of del pinzo's gang to another. then, when that greaser had the deeds safely hidden, as he thought, he gave the signal for the sheep to start for spur creek." "but how in the name of zip foster did you know where he had the deeds hidden?" cried bud. "i didn't," answered nort. "i simply guessed that he had taken them, or had some one take them for him, and i reasoned he would keep them near him, in the professor's camp. so, with your dad's permission, bud, i disguised like a greaser and went to work in the fossil camp. i had to kidnap one of the regular greasers, and pass myself off as his brother, which i did. by the way," he remarked to slim, "we can let feliece go now." "all right," chuckled slim, who was one of the few in the secret. "he didn't mind being a prisoner here, for he got well paid and had plenty of grub." "after i established myself at the camp," went on nort, "and even the professor didn't recognize me, i made it my business secretly to keep on del pinzo's trail until i located where he had hidden the deeds, in one of the many excavations made in searching for fossil bones. "then, when the brontotherium was really found there was enough excitement so that i could sneak over to the hiding place, take out the right papers and stick in some dummies i had all ready. then i sent word to mr. bonnett, and came on as soon as i could with the deeds. zeb tauth, the janitor whom the professor brought with him as a sort of personal aid, helped me out in that. he was a good scout, zeb was, though he doesn't care much about fossils. he says he's anxious to get back to his furnace and ash cans." "shades of zip foster!" chuckled bud, as the explanation was concluded. "it couldn't have been slicker if you'd practiced it for a year! i'll never forget del pinzo's face as he opened his oiled-silk package and realized that he had been fooled. oh, zip foster!" "so it's all over now," commented dick. "well, it was a mighty good ending," said mr. merkel, "and i'm much obliged to you boy ranchers. you helped a lot. i'd like to catch del pinzo, however." but the wily half-breed greaser disappeared, though it might be feared he would bob up again in the lives of the boy ranchers. for they were destined to have other adventures. "but we're through for a time," said bud, as, with his cousins, he rode the trail that led to home. nell met them near the horse corral. "you're just in time," she said. "for what?" asked dick. "pie!" answered nell with a laugh. "mother and i have baked some for you." "whoopee!" yelled the boy ranchers, and as they race for the kitchen we will take leave of them for a time. the end the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full colors._ _stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._ . the boy ranchers _or solving the mystery at diamond x_ two eastern boys visit their cousin. they become involved in an exciting mystery. . the boy ranchers in camp _or the water fight at diamond x_ returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn with delight, that they are to become boy ranchers. . the boy ranchers on the trail _or the diamond x after cattle rustlers_ our boy heroes take the trail after del pinzo and his outlaws. . the boy ranchers among the indians _or trailing the yaquis_ rosemary and floyd are captured by the yaqui indians. . the boy ranchers at spur creek _or fighting the sheep herders_ dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights. . the boy ranchers in the desert _or diamond x and the lost mine_ one night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship arrived at the bunk house. the boys cared for him and he told them of the lost desert mine. . the boy ranchers on roaring river _or diamond x and the chinese smugglers_ the boy ranchers help capture delton's gang who were engaged in smuggling chinese across the border. . the boy ranchers in death valley _or diamond x and the poison mystery_ the boy ranchers track mysterious death into his cave. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. the baseball joe series by lester chadwick _ mo. illustrated. price per volume, $. , postpaid_ . baseball joe of the silver stars _or the rivals of riverside_ . baseball joe on the school nine _or pitching for the blue banner_ . baseball joe at yale _or pitching for the college championship_ . baseball joe in the central league _or making good as a professional pitcher_ . baseball joe in the big league _or a young pitcher's hardest struggles_ . baseball joe on the giants _or making good as a twirler in the metropolis_ . baseball joe in the world series _or pitching for the championship_ . baseball joe around the world _or pitching on a grand tour_ . baseball joe home run king _or the greatest pitcher and batter on record_ . baseball joe saving the league _or breaking up a great conspiracy_ . baseball joe captain of the team _or bitter struggles on the diamond_ . baseball joe champion of the league _or the record that was worth while_ . baseball joe club owner _or putting the home town on the map_ . baseball joe pitching wizard _or triumphs off and on the diamond_ cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. the jewel series by ames thompson _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in colors._ _a series of stories brimming with hardy adventure, vivid and accurate in detail, and with a good foundation of probability. they take the reader realistically to the scene of action. besides being lively and full of real situations, they are written in a straight-forward way very attractive to boy readers._ . the adventure boys and the valley of diamonds malcolm edwards and his son ralph are adventurers with ample means for following up their interest in jewel clues. in this book they form a party of five, including jimmy stone and bret hartson, boys of ralph's age, and a shrewd level-headed sailor named stanley greene. they find a valley of diamonds in the heart of africa. . the adventure boys and the river of emeralds the five adventurers, staying at a hotel in san francisco, find that pedro the elevator man has an interesting story of a hidden "river of emeralds" in peru, to tell. with him as guide, they set out to find it, escape various traps set for them by jealous peruvians, and are much amused by pedro all through the experience. . the adventure boys and the lagoon of pearls this time the group starts out on a cruise simply for pleasure, but their adventuresome spirits lead them into the thick of things on a south sea cannibal island. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. the bomba books by roy rockwood _ mo. cloth. illustrated. with colored jacket._ _bomba lived far back in the jungles of the amazon with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. the jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. he had a primitive education in some things, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._ . bomba the jungle boy _or the old naturalist's secret_ in the depth of the jungle bomba lives a life replete with thrilling situations. once he saves the lives of two american rubber hunters who ask him who he is, and how he had come into the jungle. . bomba the jungle boy at the moving mountain _or the mystery of the caves of fire_ bomba travels through the jungle, encountering wild beasts and hostile natives. at last he trails the old man of the burning mountain to his cave and learns more concerning himself. . bomba the jungle boy at the giant cataract _or chief nasconora and his captives_ among the pilati indians he finds some white captives, and an aged opera singer, first to give bomba real news of his forebears. . bomba the jungle boy on jaguar island _or adrift on the river of mystery_ jaguar island was a spot as dangerous as it was mysterious and bomba was warned to keep away. but the plucky boy sallied forth. . bomba the jungle boy in the abandoned city _or a treasure ten thousand years old_ years ago this great city had sunk out of sight beneath the trees of the jungle. a wily half-breed thought to carry away its treasure. . bomba the jungle boy on terror trail _or the mysterious men from the sky_ bomba strikes out through the vast amazonian jungles and soon finds himself on the dreaded terror trail. cupples & leon company, publishers. new york. _the_ curlytops at uncle frank's ranch howard r. garis [illustration: "you've got to groan and pretend you've been shot." _the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch_ _page _] the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch or _little folks on ponyback_ by howard r. garis author of "the curlytops series," "bedtime stories," "uncle wiggily series," etc. _illustrations by julia greene_ new york cupples & leon company the curlytops series by howard r. garis mo. cloth. illustrated. _the curlytops at cherry farm or, vacation days in the country_ _the curlytops on star island or, camping out with grandpa_ _the curlytops snowed in or, grand fun with skates and sleds_ _the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch or, little folks on ponyback_ cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by cupples & leon company the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch printed in u. s. a. contents chapter page i trouble's tumble ii nicknack and trouble iii off for the west iv the collision v at ring rosy ranch vi cowboy fun vii bad news viii a queer noise ix the sick pony x a surprised doctor xi trouble makes a lasso xii the bucking bronco xiii missing cattle xiv looking for indians xv trouble "helps" xvi on the trail xvii the curlytops alone xviii lost xix the hidden valley xx back to ring rosy the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch chapter i trouble's tumble "say, jan, this isn't any fun!" "what do you want to play then, ted?" janet martin looked at her brother, who was dressed in one of his father's coats and hats while across his nose was a pair of spectacles much too large for him. janet, wearing one of her mother's skirts, was sitting in a chair holding a doll. "well, i'm tired of playing doctor, jan, and giving your make-believe sick doll bread pills. i want to do something else," and teddy began taking off the coat, which was so long for him that it dragged on the ground. "oh, i know what we can do that'll be lots of fun!" cried janet, getting up from the chair so quickly that she forgot about her doll, which fell to the floor with a crash that might have broken her head. "oh, my _dear_!" cried janet, as she had often heard her mother call when baby william tumbled and hurt himself. "oh, are you hurt?" and janet clasped the doll in her arms, and hugged it as though it were a real child. "is she busted?" ted demanded, but he did not ask as a real doctor might inquire. in fact, he had stopped playing doctor. "no, she isn't hurt, i guess," jan answered, feeling of her doll's head. "i forgot all about her being in my lap. oh, aren't you going to play any more, ted?" she asked as she saw her brother toss the big coat on a chair and take off the spectacles. "no. i want to do something else. this is no fun!" "well, let's make-believe you're sick and i can be a red cross nurse, like some of those we saw in the drugstore window down the street, making bandages for the soldiers. you could be a soldier, ted, and i could be the nurse, and i'd make some sugar pills for you, if you don't like the rolled-up bread ones you gave my doll." teddy martin thought this over for a few seconds. he seemed to like it. and then he shook his head. "no," he answered his sister, "i couldn't be a soldier." "why not?" "'cause i haven't got a gun and there isn't any tent." "we could make a tent with a sheet off the bed like we do lots of times. put it over a chair, you know." "but i haven't a gun," teddy went on. he knew that he and janet could make a tent, for they had often done it before. "couldn't you take a broom for a gun?" janet asked. "i'll get it from the kitchen." "pooh! what good is a broom for a gun? i want one that shoots! anyhow i haven't a uniform, and a soldier can't go to war without a uniform or a sword or a gun. i'm not going to play that!" janet did not know what to say for a few seconds. truly a soldier would not be much of one without a gun or a uniform, even if he was in a tent. but the little girl had not given up yet. the day was a rainy one. there was no school, for it was saturday, and staying in the house was no great fun. janet wanted her brother to stay and play with her and she knew she must do something to make him. for a while he had been content to play that he was dr. thompson, come to give medicine to jan's sick doll. but teddy had become tired of this after paying half a dozen visits and leaving pills made by rolling bread crumbs together. teddy laid aside his father's old hat and scratched his head. that is he tried to, but his head was so covered with tightly twisted curls that the little boy's fingers were fairly entangled in them. "say!" he exclaimed, "i wish my hair didn't curl so much! it's too long. i'm going to ask mother if i can't have it cut." "i wish i could have mine cut," sighed janet. "mine's worse to comb than yours is, ted." "yes, i know. and it always curls more on a rainy day." both children had the same curly hair. it was really beautiful, but they did not quite appreciate it, even though many of their friends, and some persons who saw them for the first time, called them "curlytops." indeed the tops of their heads were very curly. "oh, i know how we can do it!" suddenly cried janet, just happening to think of something. "do what?" asked her brother. "play the soldier game. you can pretend you were caught by the enemy and your gun and uniform were taken away. then you can be hurt and i'll be the red cross nurse and take care of you in the tent. i'll get some real sugar for pills, too! nora'll give me some. she's in the kitchen now making a cake." "maybe she'd give you a piece of cake, too," suggested teddy. "maybe," agreed janet. "i'll go and ask her." "ask her for some chocolate," added ted. "i guess, if i've got to be sick, i'd like chocolate pills 'stead of sugar." "all right," said janet, as she hurried downstairs from the playroom to the kitchen. in a little while she came back with a plate on which were two slices of chocolate cake, while on one edge of it were some crumbs of chocolate icing. "i'll make pills of that after we eat the cake," janet said. "you can pretend the cake made you sick if you want to, ted." "pooh! who ever heard of a soldier getting sick on cake? anyhow they don't have cake in the army--lessen they capture it from the enemy." "well, you can pretend you did that," said janet. "now i'll put my doll away," she went on, as she finished her piece of cake, "and we'll play the soldier game. i'll get some red cloth to make the cross." janet looked "sweet," as her mother said afterward, when she had wound a white cloth around her head, a red cross, rather ragged and crooked, being pinned on in front. the tent was made by draping a sheet from the bed across two chairs, and under this shelter teddy crawled. he stretched out on a blanket which janet had spread on the floor to be the hospital cot. "now you must groan, ted," she said, as she looked in a glass to see if her headpiece and cross were on straight. "groan? what for?" "'cause you've been hurt in the war, or else you're sick from the cake." "pooh! a little bit of cake like _that_ wouldn't make _me_ sick. you've got to give me a _lot_ more if you want me to be real sick." "oh, teddy martin! i'm not going to play if you make fun like that all the while. you've got to groan and pretend you've been shot. never mind about the cake." "all right. i'll be shot then. but you've got to give me a lot of chocolate pills to make me get better." "i'm not going to give 'em to you all at once, ted martin!" "well, maybe in two doses then. how many are there?" "oh, there's a lot. i'm going to take some myself." "you are not!" and teddy sat up so quickly that he hit the top of the sheet-tent with his head and made it slide from the chair. "there! look what you did!" cried janet. "now you've gone and spoiled everything!" "oh, well, i'll fix it," said ted, rather sorry for what he had done. "but you can't eat my chocolate pills." "i can so!" "you cannot! who ever heard of a nurse taking the medicine from a sick soldier?" "well, anyhow--well, wouldn't you give me some chocolate candy if you had some, and i hadn't?" asked janet. "course i would, jan. i'm not stingy!" "well, these pills are just like chocolate candy, and if i give 'em all to you----" "oh, well, then i'll let you eat _some_," agreed ted. "but you wanted me to play this game of bein' a sick soldier, and if i'm sick i've got to have the medicine." "yes, i'll give you the most," janet agreed. "now you lie down and groan and i'll hear you out on the battlefield and come and save your life." so, after janet had fixed the sheet over him again, teddy lay back on the blanket and groaned his very best. "oh, it sounds as real as anything!" exclaimed the little girl in delight. "do it some more, ted!" thereupon her brother groaned more loudly until janet stopped him by dropping two or three chocolate pills into his opened mouth. "oh! gurr-r-r-r! ugh! say, you 'most choked me!" spluttered ted, as he sat up and chewed the chocolate. "oh, i didn't mean to," said janet as she ate a pill or two herself. "now you lie down and go to sleep, 'cause i've got a lot more sick soldiers to go to see." "don't give 'em any of my chocolate pills," cautioned ted. "i need 'em all to make me get better." "i'll only make-believe give them some," promised janet. she and her brother played this game for a while, and teddy liked it--as long as the chocolate pills were given him. but when janet had only a few left and teddy was about to say he was tired of lying down, someone came into the playroom and a voice asked: "what you doin'?" "playing soldier," answered janet. "you mustn't drop your 'g' letters, trouble. mother doesn't like it." "i want some chocolate," announced the little boy, whose real name was william martin, but who was more often called trouble--because he got in so much of it, you know. "there's only one pill left. can i give it to him, ted?" asked janet. "yes, janet. i've had enough. anyhow, i know something else to play now. it's lots of fun!" "what?" asked janet eagerly. it was still raining hard and she wanted her brother to stay in the house with her. "we'll play horse," went on ted. "i'll be a bucking bronco like those uncle frank told us about on his ranch. we'll make a place with chairs where they keep the cow ponies and the broncos. i forget what uncle frank called it." "i know," said janet. "it's cor--corral." "corral!" exclaimed ted. "that's it! we'll make a corral of some chairs and i'll be a bucking bronco. that's a horse that won't let anybody ride on its back," the little boy explained. "i wants a wide!" said baby william. "well, maybe i'll give you a ride after i get tired of bucking," said teddy, thinking about it. they made a ring of chairs on the playroom floor, and in this corral teddy crept around on his hands and knees, pretending to be a wild western pony. janet tried to catch him and the children had much fun, trouble screaming and laughing in delight. at last teddy allowed himself to be caught, for it was hard work crawling around as he did, and rearing up in the air every now and then. "give me a wide!" pleaded trouble. "yes, i'll ride him on my back," offered teddy, and his baby brother was put up there by janet. "now don't go too fast with him, pony," she said. "yes, i wants to wide fast, like we does with nicknack," declared baby william. nicknack was the curlytops' pet goat. "all right, i'll give you a fast ride," promised teddy. he began crawling about the room with trouble on his back. the baby pretended to drive his "horse" by a string which ted held in his mouth like reins. "go out in de hall--i wants a big wide," directed trouble. "all right," assented teddy. out into the hall he went and then forgetting, perhaps, that he had his baby brother on his back, teddy began to buck--that is flop up and down. "oh--oh! 'top!" begged trouble. "i can't! i'm a wild-west pony," explained ted, bucking harder than ever. he hunched himself forward on his hands and knees, and before he knew it he was at the head of the stairs. then, just how no one could say, trouble gave a yell, toppled off teddy's back and the next instant went rolling down the flight, bump, bump, bumping at every step. chapter ii nicknack and trouble "oh, teddy!" screamed janet. "oh, trouble!" teddy did not answer at once. indeed he had hard work not to tumble down the stairs himself after his little brother. ted clung to the banister, though, and managed to save himself. "oh, he'll be hurt--terrible!" cried janet, and she tried to get past her older brother to run downstairs after trouble. but mrs. martin, who was in the dining-room talking to nora jones, the maid, heard the noise and ran out into the hall. "oh, children!" she cried. "teddy--janet--what's all that noise?" "it's trouble, mother!" announced teddy. "i was playing bucking bronco and----" "trouble fell downstairs!" screamed janet. while everyone was thus calling out at once, baby william came flopping head over heels, and partly sidewise, down the padded steps, landing right at his mother's feet, sitting up as straight as though in his high-chair. "oh, darling!" cried mrs. martin, catching the little fellow up in her arms, "are you hurt?" trouble was too much frightened to scream or cry. he had his mouth open but no sound came from it. he was just like the picture of a sobbing baby. "oh, nora!" cried mrs. martin, as she hurried into the dining-room with her little boy in her arms. "trouble fell downstairs! get ready to telephone for his father and the doctor in case he's badly hurt," and then she and the maid began looking over baby william to find out just what was the matter with him, while ted and janet, much frightened and very quiet, stood around waiting. and while mrs. martin is looking over trouble it will be a good chance for me to tell those of you who meet the curlytops for the first time in this book something about them, and what has happened to them in the other volumes of this series. the first book is named "the curlytops at cherry farm," and in that i had the pleasure of telling you about ted and janet and trouble martin and their father and mother, when they went to grandpa martin's place, called cherry farm, which was near the village of elmburg, not far from clover lake. there the children found a goat, which they named nicknack, and they kept him as a pet. when hitched to a wagon he gave them many nice rides. there were many cherry trees on grandpa martin's farm, and when some of the other crops failed the cherries were a great help, especially when the lollypop man turned them into "chewing cherry candy." after a good time on the farm the children had more fun when, as told in the second book, named "the curlytops on star island," they went camping with grandpa. on star island in clover lake they saw a strange blue light which greatly puzzled them, and it was some time before they knew what caused it. the summer and fall passed and ted and janet went home to cresco, where they lived, to spend the winter. what happened then is told in the third volume, called "the curlytops snowed in." the big storm was so severe that no one could get out and even nicknack was lost wandering about in the big drifts. the curlytops had a good time, even if they were snowed in. now spring had come again, and the children were ready for something else. but i must tell you a little bit about the family, as well as about what happened. you have already met ted, jan and trouble. ted's real name was theodore, but his mother seldom called him that unless she was quite serious about something he had done that was wrong. so he was more often spoken to as ted or teddy, and his sister janet was called jan. though oftener still they were called the "curlytops," or, if one was speaking to one or the other he would say "curlytop." that was because both teddy and janet had such very, very curly hair. ted's and jan's birthdays came on the same day, but they had been born a year apart, teddy being about seven years old and his sister a year younger. trouble was aged about three years. i have spoken of the curly hair of teddy and janet. unless you had seen it you would never have believed hair could be so curly! it was no wonder that even strangers called the children "curlytops." sometimes, when mother martin was combing the hair of the children, the comb would get tangled and she would have to pull a little to get it loose. that is one reason ted never liked to have his hair combed. janet's was a little longer than his, but just as curly. trouble's real name, as i have mentioned, was william. his father sometimes called him "a bunch of trouble," and his mother spoke of him as "dear trouble," while jan and ted called him just "trouble." mr. martin, whose name was richard, shortened to dick by his wife (whose name was ruth) owned a store in cresco, which is in one of our eastern states. nora jones, a cheerful, helpful maid-of-all-work had been in the martin family a long while, and dearly loved the children, who were very fond of her. the martins had many relatives besides the children's grandfather and grandmother, but i will only mention two now. they were aunt josephine miller, called aunt jo, who lived at clayton and who had a summer bungalow at mt. hope, near ruby lake. she was a sister of mrs. martin's. uncle frank barton owned a large ranch near rockville, montana. he was mr. martin's uncle, but ted and janet also called him their uncle. now that you have met the chief members of the family, and know a little of what has happened to them in the past you may be interested to go back to see what the matter is with trouble. his mother turned him over and over in her arms, feeling of him here and there. trouble had closed his mouth by this time, having changed his mind about crying. instead he was very still and quiet. "trouble, does it hurt you anywhere?" his mother asked him anxiously. "no," he said. "not hurt any place. i wants to wide on teddy's back some more." "the little tyke!" exclaimed mrs. martin with a sigh of relief. "i don't believe he is hurt a bit." "the stairs are real soft since we put the new carpet on them," remarked nora. "they are well padded," agreed mrs. martin. "i guess that's what kept him from getting hurt. it was like rolling down a feather bed. but he might have got his arm or leg twisted under him and have broken a bone. how did he happen to fall." "we were playing red cross nurse," began janet, "and ted was a soldier in a tent and----" "but how could william fall downstairs if you were playing that sort of game?" asked her mother. "oh, we weren't playing it then," put in ted. "we'd changed to another game. i was a wild western bronco, like those on uncle frank's ranch, and i was giving trouble a ride on my back. i gave a jump when i was near the stairs, and i guess he must have slipped off." "there isn't any guessing about it--he _did_ slip off," said mrs. martin with a smile, as she put trouble in a chair, having made sure he was not hurt, and that there was no need of telephoning for his father or the doctor. "you must be more careful, teddy. you might have hurt your little brother." "yes'm," teddy answered. "i won't do it again." "but we want to play something," put in janet. "it's no fun being in the house all day." "i know it isn't. but i think the rain is going to stop pretty soon. if you get your rain-coats and rubbers you may go out for a little while." "me go too?" begged trouble. "yes, you may go too," agreed his mother. "you'll all sleep better if you get some fresh air; and it's warm, even if it has been raining." "maybe we can take nicknack and have a ride!" exclaimed teddy. "if it stops raining," said his mother. ted, jan and trouble ran up and down in front of the house while the rain fell softly and the big drops dripped from the trees. then the clouds broke away, the sun came out, the rain stopped and with shouts and laughter the children ran to the barn next to which, in a little stable of his own, nicknack, the goat, was kept. "come on out, nicknack!" cried janet. "you're going to give us a ride!" and nicknack did, being hitched to the goat-cart in which there was room and to spare for janet, ted and trouble. up and down the street in front of their home the martin children drove their pet goat. "whee, this is fun!" cried ted, as he made nicknack run downhill with the wagon. "oh, teddy martin, don't go so fast!" begged janet. "i like to go fast!" answered her brother. "i'm going to play wild west. this is the stage coach and pretty soon the indians will shoot at us!" "teddy martin! if you're going to do that i'm not going to play!" stormed janet. "you'll make trouble fall out and get hurt. come on, trouble! let us get out!" she cried. nicknack was going quite fast down the hill. "wait till we get to the bottom," shouted ted. "g'lang there, pony!" he cried to the goat. "let me out!" screamed janet. "i want to get out." at the foot of the hill teddy stopped the goat and janet, taking trouble with her, got out and walked back to the house. "what's the matter now?" asked mrs. martin from the porch where she had come out to get a little fresh air. "ted's playing wild west in the goat-wagon," explained janet. "oh, ted! don't be so rough!" begged his mother of her little son, who drove up just then. "oh, i'm only playing indians and stage coach," he said. "you've got to go fast when the indians are after you!" and away he rode. "he's awful mean!" declared janet. "i don't know what's come over ted of late," said mrs. martin to her husband, who came up the side street just then from his store. "what's he been doing?" asked mr. martin. "oh, he's been pretending he was a bucking bronco, like those uncle frank has on his ranch, and he tossed trouble downstairs. but the baby didn't get hurt, fortunately. now ted's playing wild west stagecoach with nicknack and janet got frightened and wouldn't ride." "hum, i see," said ted's father slowly. "our boy is getting older, i guess. he needs rougher play. well, i think i've just the very thing to suit him, and perhaps janet and all of us." "what is it?" asked mrs. martin, as her husband drew a letter from his pocket. "this is an invitation from uncle frank for all of us to come out to his ranch in montana for the summer," was the answer. "we have been talking of going, you know, and now is a good chance. i can leave the store for a while, and i think it would do us all good--the children especially--to go west. so if you'd like it, we'll pack up and go." "go where?" asked ted, driving around near the veranda in time to hear his father's last words. "out to uncle frank's ranch," said mr. martin. "how would you like that?" added his mother. "could we have ponies to ride?" asked ted. "yes, i think so." "oh, what fun!" cried janet. "i love a pony!" "you'd be afraid of them!" exclaimed ted. "i would not! if they didn't jump up and down the way you did with trouble on your back, i wouldn't be afraid." "pooh! that's the way bucking broncos always do, don't they, daddy? i'm going to have a bronco!" "well, we'll see when we get there," said daddy martin. "but since you all seem to like it, we'll go out west." "can we take nicknack?" asked teddy. "you won't need him if you have a pony," his father suggested. "no, that's so. hurray! what fun we'll have!" "are there any indians out there?" asked janet. "well, a few, i guess," her father answered. "but they're docile indians--not wild. they won't hurt you. now let's go in and talk about it." the curlytops asked all sorts of questions of their father about uncle frank's ranch, but though he could tell them, in a general way, what it looked like, mr. martin did not really know much about the place, as he had never been there. "but you'll find lots of horses, ponies and cattle there," he said. "and can we take nicknack with us, to ride around the ranch?" asked jan, in her turn. "oh, you won't want to do that," her father said. "you'll have ponies to ride, i think." "what'll we do with nicknack then?" asked ted. "we'll have to leave him with some neighbor until we come back," answered his father. "i was thinking of asking mr. newton to take care of him. bob newton is a kind boy and he wouldn't harm your goat." "yes, bob is a good boy," agreed teddy. "i'd like him to have nicknack." "then, if it is all right with mr. newton, we'll take the goat over a few days before we leave for the west," said mr. martin. "bob will have a chance to get used to nicknack, and nicknack to him, before we go away." "nicknack not come wif us?" asked trouble, not quite understanding what the talk was about. "no, we'll leave nicknack here," said his father, as he cuddled the little fellow up in his lap. trouble said nothing more just then but, afterward, ted remembered that baby william seemed to be thinking pretty hard about something. a few days later, when some of the trunks had been partly packed, ready for the trip west, mr. martin came home early from the store and said to jan and ted: "i think you'd better get your goat ready now and take him over to bob's house. i spoke to mr. newton about it, and he said there was plenty of room in his stable for a goat. bob is delighted to have him." "but he'll give him back to us when we come home, won't he?" asked janet. "oh, yes, of course! you won't lose your goat," said her father with a laugh. but when they went out to the stable to harness nicknack to the wagon, ted and janet rubbed their eyes and looked again. "why, nicknack is gone!" exclaimed ted. "he is," agreed his sister. "maybe bob came and got him." "no, he wouldn't do that without telling us," went on ted. "i wonder where that goat is?" he looked around the stable yard and in the barn. no nicknack was in sight. when the curlytops were searching they heard their mother calling to them from the house, where their father was waiting for them to come up with nicknack. he was going over to mr. newton's with them. "ho, ted! janet! where are you?" called mrs. martin. "out here, mother!" teddy answered. "is trouble there with you?" "trouble? no, he isn't here!" "he isn't!" exclaimed his mother. "where in the world can he be? nora says she saw him going out to the barn a little while ago. please find him!" "huh!" exclaimed ted. "trouble is gone and so is nicknack! i s'pose they've gone together!" "we'll have to look," said janet. chapter iii off for the west the curlytops hurried toward the house, leaving open the empty little stable in which nicknack was usually kept. they found their father and their mother looking around in the yard. mrs. martin had a worried air. "couldn't you find him?" asked daddy martin. "we didn't look--very much," answered teddy. "nicknack is gone, and----" "nicknack gone!" cried mrs. martin. "i wonder if that little tyke of ours has gotten into trouble with him." "nicknack wouldn't make any trouble," declared jan. "he's such a nice goat----" "yes, i know!" said mrs. martin quickly. "but it looks very much as though trouble and nicknack had gone off together. is the goat's harness in the stable?" "we didn't look," answered teddy. "the wagon's gone," janet said. "i looked under the shed for that and it wasn't there." "then i can just about guess what has happened," said daddy martin. "trouble heard us talking about taking nicknack over to mr. newton's house, where he would be kept while we are at uncle frank's ranch, and the little fellow has just about taken the goat over himself." "nonsense!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "trouble couldn't hitch the goat to the wagon and drive off with him." "oh, yes he could, mother!" said teddy. "he's seen me and janet hitch nicknack up lots of times, and he's helped, too. at first he got the straps all crooked, but i showed him how to do it, and i guess he could 'most hitch the goat up himself now all alone." "then that's what he's done," said mr. martin. "come on, curlytops, we'll go over to mr. newton's and get trouble." "i hope you find him all right," said mrs. martin, with a sigh. "oh, we'll find him all right--don't worry," her husband answered. laughing among themselves at the trick trouble had played, janet, teddy and mr. martin started for the home of mr. newton, which was three or four long streets away, toward the edge of the town. on the way they looked here and there, in the yards of houses where the children often went to play. "for," said mr. martin, "it might be possible that when trouble found he could drive nicknack, which he could do, as the goat is very gentle, he might have stopped on the way to play." "yes, he might," said jan. "he's so cute!" but there was no sign of the little boy, nor the goat, either. finally mr. newton's house was reached. into the yard rushed janet and teddy, followed by their father. bob newton was making a kite on the side porch. "hello, curlytop!" he called to ted. "want to help me fly this? it's going to be a dandy!" "yes, i'll help you," agreed ted. "but is he here?" "who here?" asked bob, in some surprise. "nicknack, our goat," answered teddy. "what! is he lost?" exclaimed bob in some dismay, for he was counting on having much fun with the goat when the curlytops went west. "nicknack----" began ted. "have you seen trouble?" broke in janet. "is he lost, too?" bob inquired. "say, i guess----" "our goat and little boy seem to have gone off together," explained mr. martin to mrs. newton who came out on the porch just then. "we'd been talking before trouble about bringing nicknack over here, and now that both are missing we thought maybe baby william had brought the goat over himself." "why, no, he isn't here," said mrs. newton slowly. "you didn't see anything of trouble and the goat, did you?" she asked her son. "no. i've been here making the kite all morning, and i'd have seen nicknack all right, and trouble, too, if they had come here." "well, that's funny!" exclaimed mr. martin. "i wonder where he can have gone?" "maybe nicknack ran away with him," suggested bob. "oh, don't say such things!" exclaimed his mother. "i don't think that can have happened," returned mr. martin. "nicknack is a very gentle goat, and trouble is used to playing with him all alone. he never yet has been hurt. of course we are not sure that the two went away together. trouble disappeared from the house, and he was last seen going toward the stable. "when ted and jan went out to get nicknack he was gone, too, and so was the wagon and harness. so we just thought trouble might have driven his pet over here." "yes, i think it likely that the two went away together," said mrs. newton; "but they're not here. bob, put away that kite of yours and help mr. martin and the curlytops look for trouble. he may have gone to mrs. simpson's," she went on. "he's often there you know." "yes, but we looked in their yard coming over," put in ted. "trouble wasn't there." "that's strange," murmured bob's mother. "well, he can't be far, that's sure, and he can't get lost. everybody in town knows him and the goat, and he's sure to be seen sooner or later." "i guess so," agreed mr. martin. "his mother was a little worried, though." "yes, i should think she would be. it's horrible to have anything happen to your children--or fear it may. i'll take off my apron and help you look." "oh, don't bother," said mr. martin. "we'll find him all right." but mrs. newton insisted on joining the search. there was a barn on the newton place--a barn in which bob was counting on keeping nicknack--and this place was first searched lest, perchance, trouble might have slipped in there with the goat without anyone having seen him, having come up through a back alley. but there was no goat inside; and bob, the curlytops, mr. martin and mrs. newton came out again, and looked up and down the street. "i'll tell you what we'd better do," said bob's mother. "ted, you come with bob and me. you know trouble's ways, and where he would be most likely to go. let janet go with her father, and we'll go up and down the street, inquiring in all the houses we come to. your little brother is sure to be near one of them." "that's a good idea," said mr. martin. "jan, you come with me. i expect your mother will be along any minute now. she won't wait at home long for us if we don't come back with trouble." so the two parties started on the search, one up and the other down the street. bob, teddy and mrs. newton inquired at a number of houses, but no one in them had seen trouble and nicknack that day. nor did janet and her father get any trace of the missing ones. "i wonder where he is," murmured teddy, and he was beginning to feel afraid that something had happened to trouble. "let's go down the back street," suggested bob. "you know there's quite a lot of wagons and automobiles go along this main street where we've been looking. maybe if trouble hitched up nicknack and went for a ride he'd turn down the back street 'cause it's quieter." "yes, he may have done that," agreed mrs. newton. so down the back street the three went. there were several vacant lots on this street and as the grass in them was high--tall enough to hide a small boy and a goat and wagon--bob said they had better look in these places. this they did. there was nothing in the first two vacant lots, but in the third--after they had stopped at one or two houses and had not found the missing ones--teddy suddenly cried out: "hark!" "what'd you hear?" asked bob. "i thought i heard a goat bleating," was the answer. "listen!" whispered mrs. newton. they kept quiet, and then through the air came the sound: "baa-a-a-a-a!" "that's nicknack!" cried teddy, rushing forward. "i hope your little brother is there, too," said mrs. newton. and trouble was. when they got to the lower end of the vacant lot there, in a tangle of weeds, was the goat-wagon, and nicknack was in a tangle of harness fast to it. "look at trouble!" cried teddy. there lay the little fellow, sound asleep in the goat-wagon, his head pillowed on his arm, while nicknack was bleating now and then between the bites of grass and weeds he was eating. "oh, trouble!" cried mrs. newton as she took him up in her arms. "yes--dis me--i's trouble," was the sleepy response. "oh, 'lo, teddy," he went on as he saw his brother. "'lo, bob. you come to find me?" "i should say we _did_!" cried bob. "what are you doing here?" "havin' wide," was the answer. "everybody go 'way--out west--i not have a goat den. i no want nicknack to go 'way." "oh, i see what he means!" exclaimed teddy, after thinking over what his little brother said. "he heard us talking about bringing nicknack over to your house, bob, to keep him for us. trouble likes the goat and i guess he didn't want to leave him behind. maybe he thought he could drive him away out to montana, to uncle frank's ranch." "maybe," agreed bob. "that'd be a long drive, though." "i should say so!" agreed mrs. newton. "but i guess you're right, teddy. your little brother started off to hide the goat and wagon so you couldn't leave it behind. he's a funny baby, all right!" "and look how he harnessed him!" exclaimed bob. nicknack really wasn't harnessed. the leather straps and the buckles were all tangled up on him, but trouble had managed to make enough of them stick on the goat's back, and had somehow got part of the harness fast to the wagon, so nicknack could pull it along. "i had a nice wide," said trouble, as bob and teddy straightened out the goat's harness. "den i got s'eepy an' nicknack he got hungry, so we comed in here." "and we've been looking everywhere for you!" exclaimed mrs. newton. "well, i'm glad we've found you. come along, now. ted, you and bob hurry along and tell the others. your mother'll be worried." and indeed mrs. martin was worried, especially when she met mr. martin and janet, who had not found trouble. but teddy and bob soon met with the other searchers and told them that baby william had been found. "oh, what will you do next?" cried mrs. martin, as she clasped the little fellow in her arms. "such a fright as you've given us!" "no want nickback to go 'way!" said trouble. "i guess that's what he did it for--he thought he could hide the goat so we wouldn't leave him behind," said daddy martin. "but we'll have to, just the same. trouble won't miss him when we get out on the ranch." so the goat and wagon were left at bob's house, and though trouble cried when he realized what was happening, he soon got over it. the next few days were filled with busy preparations toward going west. daddy martin bought the tickets, the packing was completed, last visits to their playmates were paid by janet and teddy, whose boy and girl friends all said that they wished they too were going out west to a big ranch. "we're going to see cowboys and indians!" ted told everyone. then came the last day in cresco--that is the last day for some time for the curlytops. the house was closed, nora going to stay with friends. skyrocket, the dog, and turnover, the cat, were sent to kind neighbors, who promised to look after them. bob had already started to take care of nicknack. "all aboard!" called the conductor of the train the curlytops and the others took. "all aboard!" "all aboard for the west!" echoed daddy martin, and they were off. chapter iv the collision "won't we have fun, jan, when we get to the ranch?" "i guess so, teddy. but i don't like it about those indians." "oh, didn't you hear daddy say they were tame ones--like the kind in the circus and wild west show? they won't hurt you, jan." "well, i don't like 'em. they've got such funny painted faces." "not the tame ones, jan. anyhow i'll stay with you." the curlytops were talking as they sat together in the railroad car which was being pulled rapidly by the engine out toward the big west, where uncle frank's ranch was. in the seat behind them was mother martin, holding trouble, who was asleep, while daddy martin was also slumbering. it was quite a long ride from cresco to rockville, which was in montana. it would take the curlytops about four days to make the trip, perhaps longer if the trains were late. but they did not mind, for they had comfortable coaches in which to travel. when they were hungry there was the dining-car where they could get something to eat, and when they were sleepy there was the sleeping-car, in which the colored porter made such funny little beds out of the seats. jan and ted thought it quite wonderful. for, though they had traveled in a sleeping-car before, and had seen the porter pull out the seats, let down the shelf overhead and take out the blankets and pillows to make the bed, still they never tired of watching. there were many other things to interest the curlytops and trouble on this journey to uncle frank's ranch. of course there was always something to see when they looked out of the windows of the cars. at times the train would pass through cities, stopping at the stations to let passengers get off and on. but it was not the cities that interested the children most. they liked best to see the fields and woods through which they passed. in some of the fields were horses, cows or sheep, and while the children did not see any such animals in the woods, except perhaps where the wood was a clump of trees near a farm, they always hoped they might. very often, when the train would rattle along through big fields, and then suddenly plunge into a forest, jan would call: "maybe we'll see one now, ted!" "oh, maybe so!" he would exclaim. then the two curlytops would flatten their noses against the window and peer out. "what are you looking for?" asked mother martin, the first time she saw the children do this. "indians," answered teddy, never turning around, for the train was still in the wood and he did not want to miss any chance. "indians!" exclaimed his mother. "why, what in the world put into your head the idea that we should see indians?" "well, uncle frank said there were indians out west, even if they weren't wild ones," answered teddy, "and me and jan wants to see some." "oh, you won't find any indians around _here_," said daddy martin with a laugh, as he laid aside the paper he was reading. "it is true there are some out west, but we are not there yet, and, if we were, you would hardly find the indians so near a railroad." "can't we ever see any?" jan wanted to know. "i don't just like indians, 'cause they've always got a gun or a knife--i mean in pictures," she hastened to add. "course i never saw a _real_ indian, 'ceptin' maybe in a circus." "you'll see some real ones after a while," her mother told her, and then the children stopped pressing their noses flat against the car windows, for the train had come out of the wood and was nearing a large city. there, jan and ted felt sure, no indians would be seen. "but we'll keep watch," said jan to her brother, "and maybe i'll see an indian first." "and maybe i will! we'll both watch!" he agreed. something else that gave the children enjoyment was the passage through the train, every now and then, of the boy who sold candy, books and magazines. he would pass along between the seats, dropping into them, or into the laps of the passengers, packages of candy, or perhaps a paper or book. this was to give the traveler time to look at it, and make up his or her mind whether or not to buy it. a little later the boy would come along to collect the things he had left, and get the money for those the people kept for themselves. ted and jan were very desirous, each time, that the boy should sell something, and once, when he had gone through the car and had taken in no money, he looked so disappointed that jan whispered to her father: "won't you please buy something from him?" "buy what?" asked mr. martin. "a book or some candy from the newsboy," repeated the little girl. "he looks awful sorry." "hum! well, it _is_ too bad if he didn't sell anything," said mr. martin. "i guess i can buy something. what would you like, something to read or something to eat?" "some pictures to look at," suggested teddy. "then we can show 'em to trouble. mother just gave us some cookies." "then i guess you've had enough to eat," laughed mr. martin. "here, boy!" he called. "have you any picture books for these curlytops of mine?" "yes, i have some nice ones," answered the boy, and with a smile on his face he went into the baggage car, where he kept his papers, candy and other things, and soon came back with a gaily colored book, at the sight of which ted and jan uttered sighs of delight. "dat awful p'etty!" murmured trouble, and indeed the book did have nice pictures in it. mr. martin paid for it, and then ted and jan enjoyed very much looking at it, with trouble in the seat between them. he insisted on seeing each picture twice, the page being no sooner turned over than he wanted it turned back again. but at last even he was satisfied, and then ted and jan went back to their first game of looking out of the window for indians or other sights that might interest them. trouble slipped out of his seat between his brother and sister and went to a vacant window himself. for a time he had good fun playing with the window catch, and mrs. martin let him do this, having made sure, at first, that he could not open the sash. then they all forgot trouble for a while and he played by himself, all alone in one of the seats. a little later, when teddy and janet were tired of looking for the indians which they never saw, they were talking about the good times they had had with nicknack, and wondering if uncle frank would have a goat, or anything like it, when trouble came toddling up to their seat. "what you got?" asked teddy of his little brother, noticing that baby william was chewing something. "what you got, trouble?" "tandy," he said, meaning candy, of course. "oh, where'd you get it?" chimed in jan. "nice boy gived it to me," trouble answered. "here," and he held the package out to his brother and sister. "oh, wasn't that good of him!" exclaimed jan. "it's nice chocolate candy, too. i'll have another piece, trouble." they all had some and they were eating the sweet stuff and having a good time, when they saw their father looking at them. there was a funny smile on his face, and near him stood the newsboy, also smiling. "trouble, did you open a box of candy the boy left in your seat?" asked mr. martin. "yes, he's got some candy," answered jan. "he said the boy gave it to him." "i didn't mean for him to _open_ it," the boy said. "i left it in his seat and i thought he'd ask his father if he could have it. but when i came to get it, why, it was gone." "oh, what a funny little trouble!" laughed mother martin. "he thought the boy meant to give the candy to him, i guess. well, daddy, i think you'll have to pay for it." and so mr. martin did. the candy was not a gift after all, but trouble did not know that. however, it all came out right in the end. they had been traveling two days, and now, toward evening of the second day, the curlytops were talking together about what they would do when they got to uncle frank's ranch. "i hope they have lots to eat there," sighed ted, when he and jan had gotten off the subject of indians. "i'm hungry right now." "so'm i," added his sister. "but they'll call us to supper pretty soon." the children always eagerly waited for the colored waiter to come through the coaches rumbling out in his bass voice: "first call fo' supper in de dinin'-car!" or he might say "dinner" or "breakfast," or make it the "last call," just as it happened. now it was time for the first supper call, and in a little while the waiter came in. "eh? what's that? time for supper _again_?" cried daddy martin, awakening from a nap. trouble stretched and yawned in his mother's arms. "i's hungry!" he said. "so'm i!" cried ted and jan together. "shall we have good things to eat on uncle frank's ranch?" asked teddy, as they made ready to walk ahead to the dining-car. "of course!" his mother laughed. "why are you worrying about that?" "oh, i just wanted to know," teddy answered. "we had so many good things at cherry farm and when we were camping with grandpa that i want some out on the ranch." "well, i think we can trust to uncle frank," said mr. martin. "but if you get too hungry, teddy, you can go out and lasso a beefsteak or catch a bear or deer and have him for breakfast." "is there bears out there, too?" asked janet in a good deal of excitement. "bears and indians?" "well, there may be a few bears here and there," her father said with a smile, "but they won't hurt you if you don't hurt them. now we'll go and see what they have for supper here." to the dining-car they went, and as they passed through one of the coaches on their way teddy and janet heard a woman say to her little girl: "look at those curlytops, ethel. don't you wish you could have some of their curl put into your hair?" it was evening and the sun was setting. as the train sped along the curlytops could look through the windows off across the fields and woods through which they passed. "isn't it just wonderful," said mother martin, "to think of sitting down to a nice meal which is being cooked for us while the train goes so fast? imagine, children, how, years ago, the cowboys and hunters had to go on horses all the distance out west, and carry their food on their pony's back or in a wagon called a prairie schooner. how much easier and quicker and more comfortable it is to travel this way." "i'd like to ride on a pony," said teddy. "i wouldn't care how slow he went." "i imagine you wouldn't like it when night came," said his mother, as she moved a plate so the waiter could set glasses of milk in front of the children. "you wouldn't like to sleep on the ground with only a blanket for a bed, would you?" "'deed i would!" declared teddy. "i wish i had----" just then the train went around a curve, and, as it was traveling very fast, the milk which teddy was raising to his mouth slopped and spilled down in his lap. "oh, teddy!" cried his mother. "i--i couldn't help it!" he exclaimed, as he wiped up as much of the milk as he could on a napkin with which the waiter hastened to him. "no, we know it was the train," said daddy martin. "it wouldn't have happened if you had been traveling on ponyback, and had stopped to camp out for the night before you got your supper; would it, ted?" he asked with a smile. "no," said the little boy. "i wish we could camp out and hunt indians!" "oh my goodness!" exclaimed his mother. "don't get such foolish notions in your head. anyway there aren't any indians to hunt on uncle frank's ranch, are there, dick?" she asked her husband. "well, no, i guess not," he answered slowly. "there are some indians on their own ranch, or government reservation, not far from where uncle frank has his horses and cattle, but i guess the redmen never bother anyone." "can we go to see 'em?" asked teddy. "i guess so," said mr. martin. "me go, too! me like engines," murmured trouble, who had also spilled a little milk on himself. "he thinks we're talking about _engines_--the kind that pull this train!" laughed ted. "i don't believe he ever saw a real _indian_." "no, indians do not walk the streets of cresco," said mrs. martin. "but finish your suppers, children. others are waiting to use the table and we must not keep them too long." there were many travelers going west--not all as far as the curlytops though--and as there was not room in the dining-car for all of them to sit down at once they had to take turns. that is why the waiter made one, two, and sometimes three calls for each meal, as he went through the different coaches. supper over, the martins went back to their place in the coach in which they had ridden all day. they would soon go into the beds, or berths, as they are called, to sleep all night. in the morning they would be several hundred miles nearer uncle frank's ranch. the electric lights were turned on, and then, for a while, jan, ted and the others sat and talked. they talked about the fun they had had when at cherry farm, of the good times camping with grandpa and how they were snowed in, when they wondered what had become of the strange lame boy who had called at mr. martin's store one day. "i wish hal chester could come out west with us," said teddy, as the porter came to tell them he would soon make up their beds. "he'd like to hunt indians with me." hal was a boy who had been cured of lameness at a home for crippled children, not far from cherry farm. "i suppose you'll _dream_ of indians," said teddy's mother to him. "you've _talked_ about them all day. but get ready for bed, now. traveling is tiresome for little folks." indeed after the first day ted and janet found it so. they wished, more than once, that they could get out and run about, but they could not except when the train stopped longer than usual in some big city. then their father would take them to the platform for a little run up and down. true they could walk up and down the aisle of the car, but this was not much fun, as the coach swayed so they were tossed against the sides of the seats and bruised. "i'll be glad when we get to uncle frank's ranch," said janet as she crawled into the berth above her mother, who slept with trouble. "so'll i," agreed teddy, who climbed up the funny little ladder to go to bed in the berth above his father. "i want a pony ride!" on through the night rumbled and roared the train, the whistle sounding mournfully in the darkness as the engineer blew it at the crossings. ted and janet were sleeping soundly, janet dreaming she had a new doll, dressed like an indian papoose, or baby, while ted dreamed he was on a wild pony that wanted to roll over and over instead of galloping straight on. suddenly there was a loud crash that sounded through the whole train. the engine whistled shrilly and then came a jar that shook up everyone. teddy found himself rolling out of his berth and he grabbed the curtains just in time to save himself. "oh, daddy!" he cried, "what's the matter?" "what is it?" called jan from her berth, while women in the coach were screaming and men were calling to one another. "what is it, dick?" cried mrs. martin. "i think we've had a collision," answered her husband. "did our train bunk into another?" asked ted. "i'm afraid so," replied his father. chapter v at ring rosy ranch there was so much noise in the sleeping-car where the curlytops and others had been peacefully traveling through the night, that, at first, it was hard to tell what had happened. all that anyone knew was that there had been a severe jolt--a "bunk" teddy called it--and that the train had come to a sudden stop. so quickly had it stopped, in fact, that a fat man, who was asleep in a berth just behind mr. martin, had tumbled out and now sat in the aisle of the car, gazing about him, a queer look on his sleepy face, for he was not yet fully awake. "i say!" cried the fat man. "who pushed me out of bed?" even though they were much frightened, mrs. martin and some of the other men and women could not help laughing at this. and the laughter did more to quiet them than anything else. "well, i guess no one here is much hurt--if at all," said daddy martin, as he put on a pair of soft slippers he had ready in the little hammock that held his clothes inside the berth. "i'll go and see if i can find out what the matter is." "an', daddy, bring me suffin t'eat!" exclaimed trouble, poking his head out between the curtains of the berth where he had been sleeping with his mother when the collision happened. "there's one boy that's got sense," said a tall thin man, who was helping the fat man to get to his feet. "he isn't hurt, anyhow." "thank goodness, no," said mrs. martin, who, as had some of the other women, had on a dressing gown. mrs. martin was looking at trouble, whom she had taken up in her arms. "he hasn't a scratch on him," she said, "though i heard him slam right against the side of the car. he was next to the window." "it's a mercy we weren't all of us tossed out of the windows when the train stopped so suddenly, the way it did," said a little old woman. "it's a mercy, too," smiled another woman who had previously made friends with jan and teddy, "that the curlytops did not come hurtling down out of those upper berths." mr. martin, after making sure his family was all right, partly dressed and went out with some of the other men. the train had come to a standstill, and jan and ted, looking out of the windows of their berths, could see men moving about in the darkness outside with flaring torches. "maybe it's robbers," said teddy in a whisper. "robbers don't stop trains," objected janet. "yes they do!" declared her brother positively. "train robbers do. don't they, mother?" "oh, don't talk about such things now, teddy boy. be thankful you are all right and hope that no one is hurt in the collision." "that's what i say!" exclaimed the fat man. "so it's a collision, is it? i dreamed we were in a storm and that i was blown out of bed." "well, you fell out, which is much the same thing," said the thin man. "our car doesn't seem to be hurt, anyhow." ted and janet came out into the aisle in their pajamas. they looked all about them but, aside from seeing a number of men and women who were greatly excited, nothing else appeared to be the matter. then in came their father with some of the other men. "it isn't a bad collision," said daddy martin. "our engine hit a freight car that was on a side track, but too close to our rails to be passed safely. it jarred up our engine and the front cars quite a bit, and our engine is off the track, but no one is hurt." "that's good!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "i mean that no one is hurt." "how are they going to get the engine back on the track?" teddy wanted to know. "can't i go out and watch 'em?" "i want to go, too!" exclaimed janet. "indeed you can't--in the dark!" exclaimed her father. "besides, the railroad men don't want you in the way. they asked us all to go to our coaches and wait. they'll soon have the engine back on the rails they said." everyone was awake now, and several children in the car, like trouble, were hungry. the porter who had been hurrying to and fro said he could get the children some hot milk from the dining-car, and this he did. some of the grown folks wanted coffee and sandwiches, and these having been brought in, there was quite a merry picnic in the coach, even if the train had been in a collision. then there was much puffing and whistling of the engine. the curlytops, looking out of the window again, saw more men hurrying here and there with flaring torches which flickered and smoked. these were the trainmen helping to get the engine back on the rails, which they did by using iron wedges or "jumpers," much as a trolley car in your city streets is put back on the rails once it slips off. at last there was another "bunk" to the train, as teddy called it. at this several women screamed. "it's all right," said daddy martin. "they've got the engine back on the rails and it has just backed up to couple on, or fasten itself, to the cars again. now we'll go forward again." and they did--in a little while. it did not take the curlytops or trouble long to fall asleep once more, but some of the older people were kept awake until morning, they said afterward. they were afraid of another collision. but none came, and though the train was a little late the accident really did not amount to much, though it might have been a bad one had the freight car been a little farther over on the track so the engine had run squarely into it. all the next day and night the curlytops traveled in the train, and though jan and ted liked to look out of the windows, they grew tired of this after a while and began to ask: "when shall we be at uncle frank's ranch?" "pretty soon now," said their father. i will not tell you all that happened on the journey to the west. truth to say there was not much except the collision. the curlytops ate their meals, drank cupful after cupful of water, and trouble did the same, for children seem to get very thirsty when they travel--much more so than at home. then, finally, one afternoon, after a long stop when a new engine was attached to the train, daddy martin said: "we'll be at rockville in an hour now. so we'd better begin to get together our things." "shall we be at uncle frank's ranch in an hour?" asked teddy. "no, but we'll be at rockville. from there we go out over the prairies in a wagon." "a wagon with ponies?" asked janet. "yes, real western ponies," said her father. "then we'll be at the ranch." and it happened just that way. on puffed the train. then the porter came to help the martin family off at rockville. "rockville! rockville! all out for rockville!" joked daddy martin. "hurray!" cried teddy. "here we are!" "and i see uncle frank!" exclaimed janet, looking from the window toward the station as the train slowed up to stop. out piled the curlytops, and into the arms of uncle frank they rushed. he caught them up and kissed them one after the other--teddy, janet and trouble. "well, well!" he cried, "i'm glad to see you! haven't changed a bit since you were snowed in! now pile into the wagon and we'll get right out to circle o ranch." "where's that?" asked teddy. "why, that's the name of my ranch," said uncle frank. "see, there's the sign of it," and he pointed to the flank of one of the small horses, or ponies, hitched to his wagon. ted and janet saw a large circle in which was a smaller letter o. "we call it circle o," explained the ranchman. "each place in the west that raises cattle or horses has a certain sign with which the animals are branded, or marked, so their owners can tell them from others in case they get mixed up. my mark is a circle around an o." "it looks like a ring-around-the-rosy," said janet. "say! so it does!" laughed uncle frank. "i never thought of that. ring rosy ranch! that isn't a half bad name! guess i'll call mine that after this. come on to ring rosy ranch!" he invited as he laughed at the curlytops. and the name janet gave uncle frank's place in fun stuck to it, so that even the cowboys began calling their ranch "ring rosy," instead of "circle o." chapter vi cowboy fun into the big wagon piled the curlytops, mrs. martin and trouble, while daddy martin and uncle frank went to see about the baggage. jan and ted looked curiously about them. it was the first time they had had a chance to look quietly since they had started on the journey, for they had been traveling in the train nearly a week, it seemed. what they saw was a small railroad station, set in the midst of big rolling fields. there was a water tank near the station, and not far from the tank was a small building in which a pump could be heard chug-chugging away. "but where is the ranch?" asked janet of her brother. "i don't see any cows and horses." "dere's horses," stated trouble, pointing to the two sturdy ponies hitched to the wagon. "yes, i know," admitted janet. "but uncle frank said he had more'n a hundred horses and----" "and a thousand steers--that's cattle," interrupted ted. "i don't see any, either. maybe we got off at the wrong station, mother." "no, you're all right," laughed mrs. martin. "didn't uncle frank meet us and didn't daddy tell us we'd have to drive to the ranch!" "what's the matter now, curlytops?" asked their father's uncle, as the two men came back from having seen about the baggage, which had arrived safely. "what are you two youngsters worrying about, teddy and janet?" "they're afraid we're at the wrong place because they can't see the ranch," answered their mother. "oh, that's over among the hills," said uncle frank, waving his hand toward some low hills that were at the foot of some high mountains. "it wouldn't do," he went on, "to have a ranch too near a railroad station. the trains might scare the horses and cattle. you will soon be there, curlytops. we'll begin to travel in a minute." ted and janet settled themselves in the seat, where they were side by side, and looked about them. suddenly janet clasped her brother by the arm and exclaimed: "look, ted! look!" "where?" he asked. "right over there--by the station. it's an _indian_!" "a real one?" asked teddy, who, at first, did not see where his sister was pointing. "he _looks_ like a real one," janet answered. "he's _alive_, 'cause he's moving!" she snuggled closer to her brother. then teddy saw where janet pointed. a big man, whose face was the color of a copper cent, was walking along the station platform. he was wrapped in a dirty blanket, but enough of him could be seen to show that he was a redman. "is that a _real_ indian, uncle frank?" asked teddy in great excitement. "what? him? oh, yes, he's a real indian all right. there's a lot of 'em come down to the station to sell baskets and bead-work to the people who go through on the trains." "is he a _tame_ indian?" the little boy next wanted to know. "oh, he's 'tame' all right. hi there, running horse!" called uncle frank to the copper-faced man in the blanket, "sell many baskets to-day?" "um few. no good business," answered the indian in a sort of grunt. "oh, do you know him?" asked ted in surprise. "oh, yes. running horse often comes to the ranch when he's hungry. there's a reservation of the indians not far from our place. they won't hurt you, jan; don't be afraid," said uncle frank, as he saw that the little girl kept close to teddy. "was he wild once?" she asked timidly. "why, yes; i guess you might have called him a wild indian once," her uncle admitted. "he's pretty old and i shouldn't wonder but what he had been on the warpath against the white settlers." "oh!" exclaimed janet. "maybe he'll get wild again!" "oh, no he won't!" laughed uncle frank. "he's only too glad now to live on the reservation and sell the baskets the squaws make. the indian men don't like to work." running horse, which was the queer name the indian had chosen for himself, or which had been given him, walked along, wrapped in his blanket, though the day was a warm one. perhaps he thought the blanket kept the heat out in summer and the cold in winter. "get along now, ponies!" cried uncle frank, and the little horses began to trot along the road that wound over the prairies like a dusty ribbon amid the green grass. on the way to ring rosy ranch uncle frank had many questions to ask, some of the children and some of mr. and mrs. martin. together they laughed about the things that had happened when they were all snowed in. "tell uncle frank of trouble's trying to hide nicknack away so we wouldn't leave him behind," suggested mrs. martin. "ha! ha! that was pretty good!" exclaimed the ranchman when ted and janet, by turns, had told of trouble's being found asleep in the goat-wagon. "well, it's too bad you couldn't bring nicknack with you. he'd like it out on the ranch, i'm sure, but it would be too long a journey for him. you'll have rides enough--never fear!" "pony rides?" asked teddy. "pony rides in plenty!" laughed uncle frank. "we'll soon be there now, and you can see the ranch from the top of the next hill." the prairies were what are called "rolling" land. that is there were many little hills and hollows, and the country seemed to be like the rolling waves of the ocean, if they had suddenly been made still. sometimes the wagon, drawn by the two little horses, would be down in a hollow, and again it would be on top of a mound-like hill from which a good view could be had. reaching the top of one hill, larger than the others, uncle frank pointed off in the distance and said: "there's circle o ranch, curlytops, or, as jan has named it, ring rosy ranch. we'll be there in a little while." the children looked. they saw, off on the prairie, a number of low, red buildings standing close together. beyond the buildings were big fields, in which were many small dots. "what are the dots?" asked janet. "those are my horses and cattle--steers we call the last," explained uncle frank. "they are eating grass to get fat. you'll soon be closer to them." [illustration: "look, ted! look!" "it's an indian." _the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch_ _page _] "are the indians near here?" teddy inquired. "no, not very near. it's a day's ride to their reservation. but don't worry about them. they won't bother you if you don't bother them," said uncle frank. teddy was not fully satisfied with this answer, for he hoped very much that the indians would "bother him"--at least, he thought that was what he wanted. when the curlytops drew closer to the ranch they could see that one of the buildings was a house, almost like their own in the east, only not so tall. it was all one story, as were the other buildings, some of which were stables for the horses and some sleeping places, or "bunk houses," for the cowboys, while from one building, as they approached closer, there came the good smell of something cooking. "that's the cook's place," said uncle frank, pointing with his whip. "all the cowboys love him, even if he is a chinaman." "have you a chinese cook?" asked mrs. martin. "yes, and he's a good one," answered uncle frank. "wait until you taste how he fries chicken." "i hope we taste some soon," said daddy martin. "this ride across the prairies has made me hungry." "i hungry, too!" exclaimed trouble. "i wants bread an' milk!" "and you shall have all you want!" laughed the ranchman. "we've plenty of milk." "oh, this is a dandy place!" exclaimed teddy, as the wagon drove up to the ranch house. "we'll have lots of fun here, janet!" "maybe we will, if--if the indians don't get us," she said. "pooh! i'm not afraid of them," boasted teddy, and then something happened. all at once there came a lot of wild yells, and sounds as if a fourth-of-july celebration of the old-fashioned sort were going on. there was a popping and a banging, and then around the corner of the house rode a lot of roughly-dressed men on ponies which kicked up a cloud of dust. "ki-yi! ki-yi! yippi-i-yip!" yelled the men. "bang! bang! bang!" exploded their revolvers. "oh, dear!" screamed janet. teddy turned a little pale, but he did not make a sound. "what is it?" asked mrs. martin, hugging trouble and his sister closer to her. "oh, what is it?" "don't be afraid!" laughed uncle frank. "those are the cowboys making you welcome to ring rosy ranch. that's their way of having fun!" chapter vii bad news on came the cowboys, yelling, shouting and shooting off their big revolvers which made noises like giant firecrackers. the men, some of whom wore big leather "pants," as teddy said afterward, and some of whom had on trousers that seemed to be made from the fleece of sheep, swung their hats in the air. some of them even stood up in their saddles, "just like circus riders!" as janet sent word to aunt jo, who was spending the summer at mt. hope. "are they shooting real bullets, uncle frank?" asked teddy, as soon as the noise died down a little and the cowboys were waving their hats to the curlytops and the other visitors to ring rosy ranch. "real bullets? bless your heart, no!" exclaimed mr. barton. "of course the cowboys sometimes have real bullets in their 'guns,' as they call their revolvers, but they don't shoot 'em for fun." "what makes them shoot?" asked janet. "well, sometimes it's to scare away bad men who might try to steal my cattle or horses, and again it's to scare the cattle themselves. you see," explained uncle frank, while the cowboys jumped from their horses and went to the bunk house to wash and get ready for supper, "a ranch is just like a big pasture that your grandfather martin has at cherry farm. only my ranch is ever so much bigger than his pastures, even all of them put together. and there are very few fences around any of my fields, so the cattle or horses might easily stray off, or be taken. "because of that i have to hire men--cowboys they are called--to watch my cattle and horses, to see that they do not run away and that no white men or indians come and run away with them. "but sometimes the cattle take it into their heads to run away themselves. they get frightened--'stampeded' we call it--and they don't care which way they run. sometimes a prairie fire will make them run and again it may be bad men--thieves. the cowboys have to stop the cattle from running away, and they do it by firing revolvers in front of them. so it wouldn't do to have real bullets in their guns when the cowboys are firing that way. they use blank cartridges, just as they did now to salute you when they came in." "is that what they did?" asked teddy. "saluted us?" "that's it. they just thought they'd have a little fun with you--see if they could scare you, maybe, because you're what they call a 'tenderfoot,' teddy." "pooh, i wasn't afraid!" declared teddy, perhaps forgetting a little. "i liked it. it was like the fourth of july!" "i didn't like it," said janet, with a shake of her curly head. "and what's a soft-foot, uncle frank?" "a soft-foot? oh, ho! i see!" he laughed. "you mean a tenderfoot! well, that's what the western cowboys call anybody from the east--where you came from. it means, i guess, that their feet are tender because they walk so much and don't ride a horse the way cowboys do. you see out here we folks hardly ever walk. if we've only got what you might call a block to go we hop on a horse and ride. so we get out of the way of walking. "now you eastern folk walk a good bit--that is when you aren't riding in street cars and in your automobiles, and i suppose that's why the cowboys call you tenderfeet. you don't mind, though, do you, teddy?" "nope," he said. "i like it. but i'm going to learn to ride a pony." "so'm i!" exclaimed janet. "i wants a wide, too!" cried trouble. "can't i wide, uncle frank? we hasn't got nicknack, but maybe you got a goat," and he looked up at his father's uncle. "no, i haven't a goat," laughed uncle frank, "though there might be some sheep on some of the ranches here. but i guess ponies will suit you children better. when you curlytops learn to ride you can take trouble up on the saddle with you and give him a ride. he's too small to ride by himself yet." "i should say he was, uncle frank!" cried mrs. martin. "don't let _him_ get on a horse!" "i won't," promised mr. barton with a laugh. but trouble said: "i likes a pony! i wants a wide, muzzer!" "you may ride with me when i learn," promised janet. "dat nice," responded william. uncle frank's wife, whom everyone called aunt millie, came out of the ranch house and welcomed the curlytops and the others. she had not seen them for a number of years. "my, how big the children are!" she cried as she looked at janet and teddy. "and here's one i've never seen," she went on, as she caught trouble up in her arms and kissed him. "now come right in. hop sing has supper ready for you." "hop sing!" laughed mother martin. "that sounds like a new record on the phonograph." "it's the name of our chinese cook," explained aunt millie, "and a very good one he is, too!" "are the cowboys coming in to eat with us?" asked teddy, as they all went into the house, where the baggage had been carried by uncle frank and daddy martin. "oh, no. they eat by themselves in their own building. not that we wouldn't have them, for they're nice boys, all of them, but they'd rather be by themselves." "do any indians come in?" asked janet, looking toward the door. "bless your heart, no!" exclaimed aunt millie. "we wouldn't want them, for they're dirty and not at all nice, though some of them do look like pictures when they wrap themselves around in a red blanket and stick feathers in their hair. we don't want any indians. now tell me about your trip." "we were in a collision!" cried janet. "in the middle of the night," added teddy. "an' i mos' fell out of my bed!" put in trouble. then, amid laughter, the story of the trip from the east was told. meanwhile hop sing, the chinese cook, cried out in his funny, squeaky voice that supper was getting cold. "well, we'll eat first and talk afterward," said uncle frank, as he led the way to the table. "come on, folks. i expect you all have good appetites. that's what we're noted for at ring rosy ranch." "what's that?" asked aunt millie. "have you given circle o a new name?" "one of the curlytops did," chuckled uncle frank. "they said my branding sign looked just like a ring-round-the-rosy, so i'm going to call the ranch that after this." "it's a nice name," said aunt millie. "and now let me see you curlytops--and trouble, too--though his hair isn't frizzy like ted's and janet's--let me see you eat until you get as fat as a ring rosy yourselves. if you don't eat as much as you can of everything, hop sing will feel as though he was not a good cook." the curlytops were hungry enough to eat without having to be told to, and hop sing, looking into the dining-room now and then from where he was busy in the kitchen, smiled and nodded his head as he said to the maid: "lil' chillens eat velly good!" "indeed they do eat very good," said the maid, as she carried in more of the food which hop sing knew so well how to cook. after supper the curlytops and the others sat out on the broad porch of the ranch house. off to one side were the other buildings, some where the farming tools were kept, for uncle frank raised some grain as well as cattle, and some where the cowboys lived, as well as others where they stabled their horses. "i know what let's do," said jan, when she and her brother had sat on the porch for some time, listening to the talk of the older folks, and feeling very happy that they were at uncle frank's ranch, where, they felt sure, they could have such good times. "what can we do?" asked teddy. very often he let jan plan some fun, and i might say that she got into trouble doing this as many times as her brother did. jan was a regular boy, in some things. but then i suppose any girl is who has two nice brothers, even if one is little enough to be called "baby." "let's go and take a walk," suggested jan. "my legs feel funny yet from ridin' in the cars so much." "ri-_ding!_" yelled teddy gleefully. "that's the time you forgot your g, janet." "yes, i did," admitted the little girl. "but there's so much to look at here that it's easy to forget. my forgetter works easier than yours does, ted." "it does not!" "it does, too!" "it does not!" "i--say--it--does!" and janet was very positive. "now, now, children!" chided their mother. "that isn't nice. what are you disputing about now?" "jan says her forgetter's better'n mine!" cried ted. "and it is," insisted janet. "i can forget lots easier than ted." "well, forgetting isn't a very good thing to do," said mr. martin. "remembering is better." "oh, that's what i meant!" said jan. "i thought it was a forgetter. anyhow mine's better'n ted's!" "now don't start that again," warned mother martin, playfully shaking her finger at the two children. "be nice now. amuse yourselves in some quiet way. it will soon be time to go to bed. you must be tired. be nice now." "come on, let's go for a walk," proposed jan again, and ted, now that the forget-memory dispute was over, was willing to be friendly and kind and go with his sister. so while trouble climbed up into his mother's lap, and the older folks were talking among themselves, the two curlytops, not being noticed by the others, slipped off the porch and walked toward the ranch buildings, out near the corrals, or the fenced-in places, where the horses were kept. there were too many horses to keep them all penned in, or fenced around, just as there are too many cattle on a cattle ranch. but the cowboys who do not want their horses which they ride to get too far away put them in a corral. this is just as good as a barn, except in cold weather. "there's lots of things to see here," said teddy, as he and his sister walked along. "yes," she agreed. "it's lots of fun. i'm glad i came." "so'm i. oh, look at the lots of ponies!" she cried, as she and ted turned a corner of one of the ranch buildings and came in sight of a new corral. in it were a number of little horses, some of which hung their heads over the fence and watched the curlytops approaching. "i'd like to ride one," sighed teddy wistfully. "oh, you mustn't!" cried jan. "uncle frank wouldn't like it, nor mother or father, either. you have to ask first." "oh, i don't mean ride now," said ted. "anyhow, i haven't got a saddle." "can't you ride without a saddle?" asked janet. "well, not very good i guess," ted answered. "a horse's back has a bone in the middle of it, and that bumps you when you don't have a saddle." "how do you know?" asked janet. "i know, 'cause once the milkman let me sit on his horse and i felt the bone in his back. it didn't feel good." "maybe the milkman's horse was awful bony." "he was," admitted ted. "but anyhow you've got to have a saddle to ride a horse, lessen you're a indian and i'm not." "well, maybe after a while uncle frank'll give you a saddle," said janet. "maybe," agreed her brother. "oh, see how the ponies look at us!" "and one's following us all around," added his sister. for the little horses had indeed all come to the side of the corral fence nearest the curlytops, and were following along as the children walked. "what do you s'pose they want?" asked teddy. "maybe they're hungry," answered janet. "let's pull some grass for 'em," suggested teddy, and they did this, feeding it to the horses that stretched their necks over the top rail of the fence and chewed the green bunches as if they very much liked their fodder. but after a while jan and ted tired of even this. and no wonder--there were so many horses, and they all seemed to like the grass so much that the children never could have pulled enough for all of them. "look at that one always pushing the others out of the way," said janet, pointing to one pony, larger than the others, who was always first at the fence, and first to reach his nose toward the bunches of grass. "and there's a little one that can't get any," said her brother. "i'd like to give him some, jan." "so would i. but how can we? every time i hold out some grass to him the big horse takes it." teddy thought for a minute and then he said: "i know what we can do to keep the big horse from getting it all." "what?" asked janet. "we can both pull some grass. then you go to one end of the fence, and hold out your bunch. the big horse will come to get it and push the others away, like he always does." "but then the little pony won't get any," janet said. "oh, yes, he will!" cried teddy. "'cause when you're feeding the big horse i'll run up and give the _little_ horse my bunch. then he'll have some all by himself." and this the curlytops did. when the big horse was chewing the grass janet gave him, ted held out some to the little horse at the other end of the corral. and he ate it, but only just in time, for the big pony saw what was going on and trotted up to shove the small animal out of the way. but it was too late. then janet and teddy walked on a little further, until janet said it was growing late and they had better go back to the porch where the others were still talking. evening was coming on. the sun had set, but there was still a golden glow in the sky. far off in one of the big fields a number of horses and cattle could be seen, and riding out near them were some of the cowboys who, after their supper, had gone out to see that all was well for the night. "is all this your land, uncle frank?" asked teddy as he stood on the porch and looked over the fields. "yes, as far as you can see, and farther. if you curlytops get lost, which i hope you won't, you'll have to go a good way to get off my ranch. but let me tell you now, not to go too far away from the house, unless your father or some of us grown folks are with you." "why?" asked janet. "well, you _might_ get lost, you know, and then--oh, well, don't go off by yourselves, that's all," and uncle frank turned to answer a question daddy martin asked him. ted and janet wondered why they could not go off by themselves as they had done at cherry farm. "maybe it's because of the indians," suggested jan. "pooh, i'm not afraid of them," teddy announced. just then one of the cowboys--later the children learned he was jim mason, the foreman--came walking up to the porch. he walked in a funny way, being more used to going along on a horse than on his own feet. "good evening, folks!" he said, taking off his hat and waving it toward the curlytops and the others. "hello, jim!" was uncle frank's greeting. "everything all right?" "no, it isn't, i'm sorry to say," answered the foreman. "i've got bad news for you, mr. barton!" chapter viii a queer noise the curlytops looked at the ranch foreman as he said this. uncle frank looked at him, too. the foreman stood twirling his big hat around in his hand. teddy looked at the big revolver--"gun" the cowboys called it--which dangled from jim mason's belt. "bad news, is it?" asked uncle frank. "i'm sorry to hear that. i hope none of the boys is sick. nobody been shot, has there, during the celebration?" "oh, no, the boys are all right," answered the foreman. "but it's bad news about some of your ponies--a lot of them you had out on grass over there," and he pointed to the west--just where ted and janet could not see. "bad news about the ponies?" repeated uncle frank. "well, now, i'm sorry to hear that. some of 'em sick?" "not as i know of," replied jim. "but a lot of 'em have been taken away--stolen, i guess i'd better call it." "a lot of my ponies stolen?" cried uncle frank, jumping up from his chair. "that is bad news! when did it happen? why don't you get the cowboys together and chase after the men who took the ponies?" "well, i would have done that if i knew where to go," said the foreman. "but i didn't hear until a little while ago, when one of the cowboys i sent to see if the ponies were all right came in. he got there to find 'em all gone, so i came right over to tell you." "well, we'll have to see about this!" exclaimed uncle frank. "who's the cowboy you sent to see about the ponies?" "henry jensen. he just got in a little while ago, after a hard ride." "and who does he think took the horses?" "he said it looked as if the indians had done it!" and at these words from the foreman ted and janet looked at one another with widely opened eyes. "indians?" said uncle frank. "why, i didn't think any of them had come off their reservation." "some of 'em must have," the foreman went on. "they didn't have any ponies of their own, i guess, so they took yours and rode off on 'em." "well, this is too bad!" said uncle frank in a low voice. "i guess we'll have to get our boys together and chase after these indians," he went on. "yes, that's what i'll do. i've got to get back my ponies." "oh, can't i come?" cried teddy, not understanding all that was going on, but enough to know that his uncle was going somewhere with the cowboys, and teddy wanted to go, too. "oh, i'm afraid you couldn't come--curlytop," said the foreman, giving teddy the name almost everyone called him at first sight, and this was the first time jim mason had seen teddy. "no, you little folks must stay at home," added uncle frank. "are you really going after indians?" teddy wanted to know. "yes, to find out if they took any of my ponies. you see," went on uncle frank, speaking to daddy and mother martin as well as to the curlytops, "the indians are kept on what is called a 'reservation.' that is, the government gives them certain land for their own and they are told they must stay there, though once in a while some of them come off to sell blankets and bark-work at the railroad stations. "and, sometimes, maybe once a year, a lot of the indians get tired of staying on the reservation and some of them will get together and run off. sometimes they ride away on their own horses, and again they may take some from the nearest ranch. i guess this time they took some of mine." "and how will you catch them?" asked mrs. martin. "oh, we'll try to find out which way they went and then we'll follow after them until we catch them and get back the ponies." "it's just like hide-and-go-seek, isn't it, uncle frank?" asked janet. "yes, something like that. but it takes longer." "i wish i could go to hunt the indians!" murmured teddy. "why, the-o-dore mar-tin!" exclaimed his mother. "i'm _surprised_ at you!" "well, i would like to go," he said. "could i go if i knew how to ride a pony, uncle frank?" "well, i don't know. i'm afraid you're too little. but, speaking of riding a pony, to-morrow i'll have one of the cowboys start in to teach you and janet to ride. now i guess i'll have to go see this henry jensen and ask him about the indians and my stolen ponies." "i hope he gets them back," said teddy to his sister. "so do i," she agreed. "and i hope those indians don't come here." "pooh! they're tame indians!" exclaimed teddy. "they must be kind of wild when they steal ponies," janet said. a little later the curlytops and trouble went to bed, for they had been up early that day. they fell asleep almost at once, even though their bed was not moving along in a railroad train, as it had been the last three or four nights. "did uncle frank find his ponies?" asked teddy the next morning at the breakfast table. "no, curlytop," answered aunt millie. "he and some of the cowboys have gone over to the field where the ponies were kept to see if they can get any news of them." "can we learn to ride a pony to-day?" asked janet. "as soon as uncle frank comes back," answered her father. "you and ted and trouble play around the house now as much as you like. when uncle frank comes back he'll see about getting a pony for you to ride." "come on!" called ted to his sister after breakfast. "we'll have some fun." "i come, too!" called trouble. "i wants a wide! i wish we had nicknack." "it would be fun if we had our goat here, wouldn't it?" asked janet of her brother. "yes, but i'd rather have a pony. i'm going to be a cowboy, and you can't be a cowboy and ride a _goat_." "no, i s'pose not," said janet. "but a goat isn't so high up as a pony, ted, and if you fall off a goat's back you don't hurt yourself so much." "i'm not going to fall off," declared teddy. the children wandered about among the ranch buildings, looking in the bunk house where the cowboys slept. there was only one person in there, and he was an old man to be called a "boy," thought janet. but all men, whether young or old, who look after the cattle on a ranch, are called "cowboys," so age does not matter. "howdy," said this cowboy with a cheerful smile, as the curlytops looked in at him. he was mending a broken strap to his saddle. "where'd you get that curly hair?" he asked. "i lost some just like that. wonder if you got mine?" janet hardly knew what to make of this, but teddy said: "no, sir. this is _our_ hair. it's fast to our heads and we've had it a long time." "it was always curly this way," added janet. "oh, was it? well, then it can't be mine," said the cowboy with a laugh. "mine was curly only when i was a baby, and that was a good many years ago. are you going to live here?" "we're going to stay all summer," janet said. "do you live here?" "well, yes; as much as anywhere." "could you show us where the indians are that took uncle frank's ponies?" teddy demanded. "wish i could!" exclaimed the cowboy. "if i knew, i'd go after 'em myself and get the ponies back. i guess those indians are pretty far away from here by now." "do they hide?" asked teddy. "yes, they may hide away among the hills and wait for a chance to sell the ponies they stole from your uncle. but don't worry your curly heads about indians. have a good time here. it seems good to see little children around a place like this." "have you got a lasso?" asked teddy. "you mean my rope? course i got one--every cowboy has," was the answer. "i wish you'd lasso something," went on teddy, who had once been to see a wild west show. "all right, i'll do a little rope work for you," said the cowboy, with a good-natured smile. "just wait until i mend my saddle." in a little while he came riding into the yard in front of the bunk house on a lively little pony. he made the animal race up and down and, while doing this, the cowboy swung his coiled rope, or lasso, about his head, and sent it in curling rings toward posts and benches, hauling the latter after him by winding the rope around the horn of his saddle after he had lassoed them. "say! that's fine!" cried teddy with glistening eyes. "i'm going to learn how to lasso." "i'll show you after a while," the cowboy offered. "you can't learn too young. but i must go now." "could i just have a little ride on your pony's back?" asked teddy. "to be sure you could," cried the cowboy. "here you go!" he leaped from the saddle and lifted teddy up to it, while janet and trouble looked on in wonder. then holding ted to his seat by putting an arm around him, while he walked beside the pony and guided it, the cowboy gave the little fellow a ride, much to teddy's delight. "hurray!" he called to janet "i'm learning to be a cowboy!" "that's right--you are!" laughed daddy martin, coming out just then. "how do you like it?" "dandy!" teddy said. "come on, janet!" "yes, we ought to have let the ladies go first," said the cowboy. "but i didn't know whether the leetle gal cared for horses," he went on to mr. martin. "i like horses," admitted janet. "but maybe i'll fall off." "i won't let you," the cowboy answered, as he lifted her to the saddle. then he led the pony around with her on his back, and janet liked it very much. "i wants a wide, too!" cried trouble. "hi! that's so! mustn't forget you!" laughed the cowboy, and he held baby william in the saddle, much to the delight of that little fellow. "now you mustn't bother any more," said daddy martin. "you children have had fun enough. you'll have more ponyback rides later." "yes, i'll have to go now," the cowboy said, and, leaping into the saddle, he rode away in a cloud of dust. the curlytops and trouble wandered around among the ranch buildings. daddy martin, seeing that the children were all right, left them to themselves. "i'se hungry," said trouble, after a bit. "so'm i," added teddy. "do you s'pose that funny chinaman would give us a cookie, jan?" "chinamen don't know how to make cookies." "well, maybe they know how to make something just as good. let's go around to the cook house--that's what aunt millie calls it." the cook house was easy to find, for from it came a number of good smells, and, as they neared it, the curlytops saw the laughing face of the chinese cook peering out at them. "lil' gal hungly--li' boy hungly?" asked hop sing in his funny talk. "got any cookies?" inquired teddy. "no glot clooklies--glot him clake," the chinese answered. "what does he say?" asked janet of her brother. "i guess he means cake," whispered teddy, and that was just what hop sing did mean. he brought out some nice cake on a plate and trouble and the curlytops had as much as was good for them, if not quite all they wanted. "glood clake?" asked hop sing, when nothing but the crumbs were left--and not many of them. "i guess he means was it good cake," then whispered janet to her little brother. "yes, it was fine and good!" exclaimed teddy. "thank you." "you mluch welclome--clome some mo'!" laughed hop sing, as the children moved away. they spent the morning playing about the ranch near the house. they made a sea-saw from a board and a barrel, and played some of the games they had learned on cherry farm or while camping with grandpa martin. then dinner time came, but uncle frank and the cowboys did not come back to it. "won't they be hungry?" asked teddy. "oh, they took some bacon, coffee and other things with them," said aunt millie. "they often have to camp out for days at a time." "say, i wish i could do that!" cried teddy. "wait until you get to be a cowboy," advised his father. that afternoon trouble went to lie down with his mother to have a nap, and teddy and janet wandered off by themselves, promising not to go too far away from the house. but the day was so pleasant, and it was so nice to walk over the soft grass that, before they knew it, teddy and janet had wandered farther than they meant to. as the land was rolling--here hills and there hollows--they were soon out of sight of the ranch buildings, but they were not afraid, as they knew by going to a high part of the prairie they could see their way back home--or they thought they could. there were no woods around them, though there were trees and a little stream of water farther off. suddenly, as the curlytops were walking along together, they came to a place where there were a lot of rocks piled up in a sort of shelter. indeed one place looked as though it might be a cave. and as teddy and janet were looking at this they heard a strange noise, which came from among the rocks. both children stopped and stood perfectly still for a moment. "did you hear that?" asked jan, clasping her brother's arm. "yes--i did," he answered. "did--did it sound like some one groaning?" she went on. teddy nodded his head to show that it had sounded that way to him. just then the noise came again. "oh!" exclaimed janet, starting to run. "maybe it's an indian! oh, teddy, come on!" chapter ix the sick pony teddy martin did not run away as jan started to leave the pile of rocks from which the queer sound had come. instead he stood still and looked as hard as he could toward the hole among the stones--a hole that looked a little like the cave on star island, but not so large. "come on, teddy!" begged janet. "please come!" "i want to see what it is," he answered. "maybe it's something that--that'll bite you," suggested the little girl. "come on!" just then the noise sounded again. it certainly was a groan. "there!" exclaimed janet. "i _know_ it's an indian, ted! maybe it's one of the kind that took uncle frank's ponies. oh, please come!" she had run on a little way from the pile of rocks, but now she stood still, waiting for teddy to follow. "come on!" she begged. janet did not want to go alone. "it can't be an indian," said teddy, looking around but still not seeing anything to make that strange sound. "it could so be an indian!" declared janet. "well, maybe a sick indian," teddy admitted. "and if he's as sick as all that i'm not afraid of him! i'm going to see what it is." "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried janet, much as she sometimes heard her mother use her brother's name. "don't you dare!" "why not?" asked teddy, who tried to speak very bravely, though he really did not feel brave. but he was not going to show that before janet, who was a girl. "why can't i see what that is?" "'cause maybe--maybe it'll--bite you!" and as janet said this she looked first at the rocks and then over her shoulder, as though something might come up behind her when she least expected it. "pooh! i'm not afraid!" declared teddy. "anyhow, if it does bite me it's got to come out of the rocks first." "well, maybe it will come out." "if it does i can see it and run!" went on the little boy. "would you run and leave me all alone?" asked janet. "nope! course i wouldn't do _that_," teddy declared. "i'd run and i'd help you run. but i don't guess anything'll bite me. anyhow, indians don't bite." "how do you know?" asked janet. "some indians are wild. i heard uncle frank say so, and wild things bite!" "but not indians," insisted teddy. "a indian's mouth, even if he is wild, is just like ours, and it isn't big enough to bite. you've got to have an awful big mouth to bite." "henry watson bit you once, i heard mother say so," declared janet, as she and her brother still stood by the rocks and listened again for the funny sound to come from the stones. but there was silence. "well, henry watson's got an awful big mouth," remarked teddy. "maybe he's wild, and that's the reason." "he couldn't be an indian, could he?" janet went on. "course not!" declared her brother. "he's a boy, same as i am, only his mouth's bigger. that's why he bit me. i 'member it now." "did it hurt?" asked janet. "yep," answered her brother. "but i'm going in there and see what that noise was. it won't hurt me." teddy began to feel that janet was asking so many questions in order that he might forget all about what he intended to do. and he surely did want to see what was in among the rocks. once more he went closer to them, and then the noise sounded more loudly than before. it came so suddenly that teddy and janet jumped back, and there was no doubt but what they were both frightened. "oh, i'm not going to stay here another minute!" cried janet. "come on, ted, let's go home!" "no, wait just a little!" he begged. "i'll go in and come right out again--that is if it's anything that bites. if it isn't you can come in with me." "no, i'm not going to do that!" and janet shook her head very decidedly to say "no!" once more she looked over her shoulder. "well, you don't have to come in," teddy said. "i'll go alone. i'm not scared." just then janet looked across the fields, and she saw a man riding along on a pony. "oh, teddy!" she called to her brother. "here's a man! we can get him to go in and see what it is." teddy looked to where his sister pointed. surely enough, there was a man going along. he was quite a distance off, but the curlytops did not mind that. they were fond of walking. "holler at him!" advised janet. "he'll hear us and come to help us find out what's in here." teddy raised his voice in the best shout he knew how to give. he had strong lungs and was one of the loudest-shouting boys among his chums. "hey, mister! come over here!" cried teddy. but the man kept on as if he had not heard, as indeed he had not. for on the prairies the air is so clear that people and things look much nearer than they really are. so, though the man seemed to be only a little distance away, he was more than a mile off, and you know it is quite hard to call so as to be heard a mile away; especially if you are a little boy. still teddy called again, and when he had done this two or three times, and jan had helped him, the two calling in a sort of duet, teddy said: "he can't hear us." "maybe he's deaf, like aunt judy," said janet, speaking of an elderly woman in the town in which they lived. "well, if he is, he can't hear us," said teddy; "so he won't come to us. i'm going in anyhow." "no, don't," begged janet, who did not want her brother to go into danger. "if he can't hear us, teddy, we must go nearer. we can walk to meet him." teddy thought this over a minute. "yes," he agreed, "we can do that. but he's a good way off." "he's coming this way," janet said, and it did look as though the man had turned his horse toward the children, who stood near the pile of rocks from which the queer noises came. "come on!" decided ted, and, taking janet's hand, he and she walked toward the man on the horse. for some little time the two curlytops tramped over the green, grassy prairies. they kept their eyes on the man, now and then looking back toward the rocks, for they did not want to lose sight either of them or of the horseman. "i'm going to holler again," said teddy. "maybe he can hear me now. we're nearer." so he stopped, and putting his hands to his mouth, as he had seen uncle frank do when he wanted to call to a cowboy who was down at a distant corral, the little boy called: "hi there, mr. man! come here, please!" but the man on the horse gave no sign that he had heard. as a matter of fact, he had not, being too far away, and the wind was blowing from him toward teddy and jan. if the wind had been blowing the other way it might have carried the voices of the children toward the man. but it did not. then teddy made a discovery. he stopped, and, shading his eyes with his hands, said: "jan, that man's going away from us 'stid of coming toward us. he's getting littler all the while. and if he was coming to us he'd get bigger." "yes, i guess he would," admitted the little girl. "he is going away, teddy. oh, dear! now he can't help us!" without a word teddy started back toward the rocks, and his sister followed. he was close to them when janet spoke again. "what are you going to do?" she asked. "i'm going in there and see what that noise was," teddy replied. "oh, you mustn't!" she cried, hoping to turn him away. but teddy answered: "yes, i am, too! i'm going to see what it is!" "i'm not!" cried janet. "i'm going home. you'd better come with me!" but, though she turned away and went a short distance from the rocks in the direction she thought the ranch house of ring rosy ranch should be, she very soon stopped. she did not like going on alone. she looked back at ted. teddy had walked a little way toward the hole in the rocks. now he called to his sister. "the noise comes from in here," he said. "it's in this little cave." "are you going in?" asked janet, trying to pretend she was not afraid. "i want to see what made that noise," declared teddy. since he and his sister had gone camping with grandpa martin they were braver than they used to be. of course, ted, being a year older than his sister, was a little bolder than she was. janet, not feeling that she ought to run on home and leave teddy there and yet not feeling brave enough to go close to the cave among the rocks with him, hardly knew what to do. she walked back a little way and then, suddenly, the noise came, more loudly than at first. "oh, there it goes again!" cried janet, once more running back. "i heard it," teddy said. "it didn't war-whoop like an indian." "if he's sick he couldn't," explained janet. "and if he's sick he can't hurt us," went on teddy. "i'm going to holler at him and see what he wants." "you'd better come back and tell daddy or uncle frank," suggested janet. teddy rather thought so himself, but he did not like to give up once he had started anything. he felt it would be a fine thing if he, all alone, could find one of the indians. "and maybe it is one of those who took uncle frank's ponies," thought teddy to himself. again the groan sounded, this time not quite so loud, and after it had died away teddy called: "who's in there? what's the matter with you?" no answer came to this. then ted added: "if you don't come out i'm going to tell my uncle on you. he owns this ranch. come on out! who are you?" this time there came a different sound. it was one that the curlytops knew well, having heard it before. "that's a horse whinnying!" cried teddy. "or a pony," added janet. "yes, it did sound like that. oh, ted, maybe it's a poor horse in there and he can't get out!" she went on. again came the whinny of a horse or a pony. there was no mistake about it this time. "come on!" cried teddy. "we've got to get him out, janet. he's one of uncle frank's cow ponies and he's hurt in that cave. we've got to get him out!" "but how can you?" janet inquired. "it's an awful little cave, and i don't believe a pony could get in there." "a little pony could," said teddy. janet looked at the cave. she remembered that she had seen some quite small ponies, not only on ring rosy ranch but elsewhere. the cave would be large enough for one of them. "i'm going in," said teddy, as he stood at the mouth of the hole among the piled-up rocks. "he might kick you," warned janet. "if he's sick enough to groan that way he can't kick very hard," replied teddy. "anyhow, i'll keep out of the way of his feet. that's all you've got to do, uncle frank says, when you go around a strange horse. when he gets to know you he won't kick." "well, you'd better be careful," warned janet again. "don't you want to come in?" teddy asked his sister. "i--i guess not," she answered. "i'll watch you here. oh, maybe if it's a pony we can have him for ours, teddy!" she exclaimed. "maybe," he agreed. "i'm going to see what it is." slowly he walked to the dark place amid the rocks. the whinnyings and groanings sounded plainer to him than to janet, and teddy was sure they came from a horse or a pony. as yet, though, he could see nothing. then, as the little boy stepped out of the glaring sun into the shadow cast by the rocks, he began to see better. and in a little while his eyes became used to the gloom. then he could see, lying down on the dirt floor of the cave amid the rocks, the form of a pony. the animal raised its head as teddy came in and gave a sort of whinnying call, followed by a groan. "poor pony!" called ted. "are you hurt? i'm so sorry! i'll go get a doctor for you!" "who are you talking to?" asked janet. she had drawn nearer the cave. "there's a sick pony in here all right," teddy told his sister. "come on in and look." "i--i don't b'lieve i want to." "pooh! he can't hurt you! he's sick!" cried teddy. so, after waiting a half minute, janet went in. in a little while she, too, could see the pony lying down in the cave. "oh, the poor thing!" she cried. "teddy, we've got to help him!" "course we have," he said. "we've got to go for a doctor." "and get him a drink," added janet. "when anybody's sick--a pony or anybody--they want a drink. let's find some water, teddy. we can bring it to him in our hats!" then, leaving the sick pony in the cave, the curlytops ran out to look for water. chapter x a surprised doctor water is not very plentiful on the prairies. in fact, it is so scarce that often men and horses get very thirsty. but the curlytops were lucky in finding a spring among the rocks on ring rosy ranch. it was not a very large spring, and it was well hidden among the big stones, which is, perhaps, why it was not visited by many of the ponies and cattle. they come in large numbers to every water-hole they can find. jan and ted, having come out of the dark cave-like hole, where the poor, sick pony lay, began their search for water, and, as i have said, they were lucky in finding some. it was jan who discovered it. as the curlytops were running about among the rocks the little girl stopped suddenly and called: "hark, teddy!" "what is it?" he asked. "i hear water dripping," she answered. "it's over this way." she went straight to the spring, following the sound of the dripping water, and found where it bubbled up in a split in the rock. the water fell into a little hollow, rocky basin and there was enough for ted and his sister to fill their hats. first they each took a drink themselves, though, for the day was warm. their hats were of felt, and would hold water quite well. and as the hats were old ones, which had been worn in the rain more than once, dipping them into the spring would not hurt them. "i guess the pony'll be awful glad to get a drink," said jan to her brother. "i guess he will," he answered, as he walked along looking carefully where he put down his feet, for he did not want to stumble and spill the water in his hat. "look out!" exclaimed janet, as her brother came too close to her. "if you bump against me and make my arm jiggle you'll spill my hatful." "i'll be careful," said teddy. they spilled some of the water, for their hats were not as good as pails in which to carry the pony's drink. but they managed to get to the cave with most of it. "you can give him the first drink," said teddy to his sister. "i found him, and he's my pony, but you can give him the first drink." janet felt that this was kind on teddy's part, but still she did not quite like what he said about the pony. "is he going to be _all_ yours?" she asked. "well, didn't i find him?" "yes, but when i found a penny once and bought a lollypop, i gave you half of it." "yes, you did," admitted teddy, thinking of that time. "but i can't give you half the pony, can i?" "no, i guess not. but you could let me ride on him." "oh, i'll do that!" exclaimed teddy quickly. he was thinking it would be a hard matter to divide a live pony in half. "course i'll let you ride on him!" he went on. "we'll get uncle frank to let us have a saddle and some of the cowboys can teach us to ride. and i'll let you feed and water him as much as you like. i'm going to call him clipclap." "that's a funny name," remarked janet. "it's how his feet sound when he runs," explained teddy. "don't you know--clip-clap, clip-clap!" and he imitated the sound of a pony as best he could. "oh, yes!" exclaimed janet. "they do go that way." "i haven't heard this one run," added teddy, "'cause he's sick and he can't gallop. but i guess his feet would make that sound, so i'm going to call him clipclap." "it's a nice name," agreed janet. "but i guess we better give him a drink now. he must be awful thirsty." "he is," said teddy. "hear him groan?" the pony was again making a noise that did sound like a groan. he must be in pain the children thought. "go on--give him your drink, janet," urged teddy. "then i'll give him mine." janet was afraid no longer. she went into the cave ahead of her brother, and as the pony was lying down janet had to kneel in front of him with her hat full of water--no, it was not full, for some had spilled out, but there was still a little in it. the pony smelled the water when janet was yet a little way from him, and raised his head and part of his body by his forefeet. though clear, cold water has no smell to us, animals can smell it sometimes a long way off, and can find their way to it when their masters would not know where to go for a drink. "oh, see how glad he is to get it!" exclaimed janet, as the pony eagerly sucked up from her hat the water in it. the little animal drank very fast, as if he had been without water a long while. "now give him yours, teddy," janet called to her brother, and he kneeled down and let the pony drink from his hat. "i guess he wants more," janet said as the sick animal sucked up the last drops from teddy's hat. "it wasn't very much." "we'll get more!" teddy decided. "then we'll go for a doctor." "where'll we find one?" janet asked. "i know where to find him," teddy answered. once more the children went back to the spring and again they filled their soft hats. and once more the pony greedily drank up the last drops of water. as he finished that in ted's hat he dropped back again and stretched out as if very tired. "oh, i hope he doesn't die!" exclaimed janet. "so do i," added her brother. "i'd like to have a ride on him when he gets well. come on, we'll go find the doctor." shaking the water drops from their hats the curlytops put them on and went out of the cave into the sunlight. led by teddy, janet followed to the top of the pile of rocks. "do you see that white house over there?" asked teddy, pointing to one down the road that led past the buildings of ring rosy ranch. "yes, i see it," janet answered. "that's the place where the doctor lives," went on ted. "how do you know?" demanded janet. "'cause i heard uncle frank say so. mother asked where a doctor lived, and uncle frank showed her that white house. i was on the porch and i heard him. he said if ever we needed a doctor we only had to go there and doctor bond would come right away. he's the only doctor around here." "then we'd better get him for our pony clipclap!" exclaimed janet. "come on, teddy." "if we had our goat-wagon we could ride," said the little boy, as they walked along over the prairie together. "but i guess we've got to walk now." "is it very far?" asked janet. "no, not very far. i've never been there, but you can easy see it." truly enough the white house of doctor bond was in plain sight, but on the prairies the air is so clear that distant houses look nearer than they really are. so, though ted and janet thought they would be at the doctor's in about ten minutes, they were really half an hour in reaching the place. they saw the doctor's brass sign on his house. "i hope he's in," said teddy. as it happened doctor bond was in, and he came to the door himself when teddy rang the bell, mrs. bond being out in the chicken part of the yard. "well, children, what can i do for you?" asked doctor bond with a pleasant smile, as he saw the curlytops on his porch. "if you please," began teddy, "will you come and cure clipclap?" "will i come and cure him? well, i will do my best. i can't be sure i'll cure him, though, until i know what the matter is. what seems to be the trouble?" "he's awful sick," said janet, "and he groans awful." "hum! he must have some pain then." "we gave him some cold water," added teddy. "yes? well, maybe that was a good thing and maybe it wasn't. i can't tell until i see him. who did you say it was?" "clipclap," replied teddy. "your little brother?" "no, sir. he's a pony and he's in a cave!" exclaimed teddy. "what? a pony?" cried the surprised doctor. "in a cave?" "yes," went on janet. "we gave him water in our hats, and he's going to be ted's and mine 'cause ted found him. but will you please come and cure him so we can have a ride on him? don't let him die." "well," exclaimed doctor bond, smiling in a puzzled way at the children, "i don't believe i can come. i don't know anything about curing sick ponies. you need a horse doctor for that." ted and janet looked at one another, not knowing what to say. chapter xi trouble makes a lasso doctor bond must have seen how disappointed teddy and janet were, for he spoke very kindly as he asked: "who are you, and where are you from? tell me about this sick pony with the funny name." "he is clipclap," answered teddy, giving the name he had picked out for his new pet. "and we are the curlytops." "yes, i can see _that_ all right," laughed the doctor with a look at the crisp hair of the little boy and girl. "but where do you live?" "at uncle frank's ranch," janet answered. "you mean mr. frank barton, of the circle o?" the doctor inquired. "yes, only we call it the ring rosy ranch now, and so does he," explained teddy. "the ring rosy ranch, is it? well, i don't know but what that is a good name for it. now tell me about yourselves and this pony." this teddy and janet did by turns, relating how they had come out west from cresco, and what good times they were having. they even told about having gone to cherry farm, about camping with grandpa martin and about being snowed in. "well, you have had some nice adventures!" exclaimed doctor bond. "now about this sick----" "is some one ill?" enquired mrs. bond, coming in from the chicken yard just then, in time to hear her husband's last words. "who is it?" on the western prairies when one neighbor hears of another's illness he or she wants to help in every way there is. so mrs. bond, hearing that some one was ill, wanted to do her share. "it's a pony," her husband said with a smile. "a pony!" she exclaimed. "yes, these curlytop children found one in the cave among the rocks. it's on circle o ranch--i should say ring rosy," and the doctor gave uncle frank's place the new name. "these are mr. barton's nephew's children," he went on, for ted and janet had told the doctor that it was their father's uncle, and not theirs, at whose home they were visiting. though, as a matter of fact, ted and janet thought uncle frank was as much theirs as he was their father's and, very likely, uncle frank thought so himself. "can't you come and cure the sick pony?" asked teddy. "he's groaning awful hard," went on janet. "well, my dear curlytops," said doctor bond with a smile, "i'd like to come, but, as i said, i don't know anything about curing sick horses or animals. i never studied that. it takes a doctor who knows about them to give them the right kind of medicine." "i thought all medicine was alike," said teddy. "what our doctor gives us is always bitter." "well, all medicine isn't bitter," laughed doctor bond, "though some very good kinds are. however, i wouldn't know whether to give this clipclap pony bitter or sweet medicine." "maybe you could ask one of the cowboys," said janet. "i heard mr. mason--jim, uncle frank calls him--telling how he cured a sick horse once." "oh, yes, your uncle's foreman, jim mason, knows a lot about horses," said doctor bond. "then why don't you go with the children and get jim to help you find out what the matter is with their pony?" suggested mrs. bond. "there isn't a regular veterinary around here, and they don't want to see their pet suffer. go along with them." "i believe i will," said doctor bond. "i could perhaps tell what's the matter with the pony, and if i've got any medicine that might cure it, jim would know how to give it--i wouldn't." "we just found the pony in the cave," explained teddy. "we were taking a walk and we heard him groan." "oh, i see," said mrs. bond. "well, i hope the doctor can make him well for you," she went on, as her husband hurried back into the house to get ready for the trip. he had a small automobile, and in this he and the children were soon hurrying along the road toward ring rosy ranch. it was decided to go there first instead of to the cave where the pony was. "we'll get jim mason and take him back with us," said the doctor. uncle frank and his cowboys had come back from looking after the lost ponies, but had not found them. he, as well as mr. and mrs. martin, were very much surprised when the curlytops came riding up to the ranch in doctor bond's automobile. "well, where in the world have you been?" cried mother martin. "we were just beginning to get worried about you children. where were you?" "we found a pony!" cried janet. "and he's sick!" added teddy. "and his name is clipclap!" exclaimed the little girl. "and he's mine but janet can have half of him, and we got him water in our hats," came from teddy. "and we got the doctor, too!" went on his sister. "well, i should say you'd put in quite a busy day," chuckled uncle frank. "now let's hear more about it." so the curlytops told, and doctor bond said, even if he was not a horse doctor, he'd go out and look at the pony in the cave, if the ranch foreman would come with him. "of course i'll come!" cried jim mason. "i wouldn't want to see any pony suffer. and i've doctored quite a few of 'em, even if i don't know much about medicine. come on, curlytops!" jim mason jumped on his own swift pony, saying he could make as good time over the rough prairie as doctor bond could in his automobile. the curlytops rode in the machine with the physician. uncle frank and daddy martin went along, for they, too, were interested in the sick pony. it did not take long to get to the cave amid the rocks. jim mason's horse reached there ahead of the automobile, and the foreman had gone into the cave and come out again by the time the curlytops were getting out of the machine. "well, he's a pretty sick pony all right," said the foreman of the cowboys of ring rosy ranch. "can you make him better?" asked teddy anxiously. "i don't know whether we can or not. it all depends on what sort of medicine the doctor has for curing poison." "has the pony been poisoned?" asked uncle frank. "looks that way," replied the foreman. "i guess he must have drunk some water that had a bit of poisoned meat in it. you see," he went on to the doctor, mr. martin and the children, "we have a lot of wolves and other pesky animals around here. they're too tricky to catch in traps or shoot, so we poison 'em by putting a white powder in some meat. sometimes the wolves will drag a piece of the poisoned meat to a spring of water, and they must have done it this time. then the pony drank the water and it made him sick." "will he die?" asked janet. "well, i'll do my best to save him," said doctor bond, opening the black case of medicines he carried. "but how can you give medicine to a horse, jim? you can't put it on his tongue, can you?" "no, but i've got a long-necked bottle on purpose for that, and it's easy to pour it out of that bottle down a pony's throat. you mix up the dose, doc, and i'll give it to the little animal." this was done, but the curlytops were not allowed in the cave when the men were working over the pony. but, in a little while, the foreman and doctor bond came out. "well, i guess your pony will get better," said the physician. "jim gave him the medicine that will get the poison out of him, and in a day or so he'll be able to walk. but you'll have to leave him in the cave until then." "can't we take him home?" teddy cried. "oh, no!" exclaimed the foreman. "but i'll send one of the men over with some straw to make him a soft bed, and we'll see that he has water to drink. he won't want anything to eat until he gets better. the doctor will come to see him to-morrow. won't you?" he went on to doctor bond. "indeed i will!" promised the doctor, for he had taken a great liking to the curlytops. "whose pony is it?" asked daddy martin. "it's mine!" exclaimed teddy quickly. "mine and jan's. we found him and his name's clipclap." "well, that's a good name for a pony," said his father. "but still i don't know that you can claim every pony you find. this one may belong to uncle frank." "no, it isn't one of my brand," said the owner of ring rosy ranch. "it's a strange pony that must have wandered into this cave after he found he was poisoned. i reckon the poor thing thought he'd die in there, and maybe he would if the children hadn't found him." "he couldn't have lived much longer without attention," said doctor bond. "then did we save his life?" asked teddy. "you did, by getting the doctor in time," answered his father. "then can't he be our pony?" asked the little boy. "yes, i guess he can," answered uncle frank. "if nobody comes to claim him you children may have him. and if anyone does come after him i'll give you another. i was going to give you each a pony, anyhow, as soon as you got used to the ranch, and i'll do it. if ted wants to keep clipclap, as he calls him, i'll give janet another." "oh, won't i just love him!" cried the little girl. "and i'll love clipclap!" said teddy. there was nothing more that could be done just then for the sick pony, so the curlytops and the others left him in the cave. the children were glad he did not groan any more. a little later jim mason sent one of the cowboys with some clean straw to make a bed for the little horse, and a pail of the cool, spring water was put where the animal could reach it. for two days the pony stayed in the cave, and then doctor bond said he was much better and could be led to the ranch. uncle frank took ted and janet out to the rocks to bring back their pet, but he had to walk very slowly, for he was still weak from the poison. "and he'll have to stay in the stable for a week or so," said jim mason when clipclap was safely at the ranch. "after that he will be strong enough to ride. while you curlytops are waiting i'll give you a few riding lessons." "and will you show me how to lasso?" begged teddy. "yes, of course. you'll never be a cowboy, as you say you're going to be, unless you can use a rope. i'll show you." so the children's lessons began. uncle frank picked out a gentle pony for them on which to learn how to ride, and this pony was to be jan's. she named him star face, for he had a white mark, like a star, on his forehead. on this pony jan and ted took turns riding until they learned to sit in the saddle alone and let the pony trot along. of course he did not go very fast at first. "and i want to learn to lasso when i'm on his back," said teddy. "you'd first better learn to twirl the rope while you're on the ground," said jim mason, and then the foreman began giving the little boy some simple lessons in this, using a small rope, for teddy could not handle the big ones the cowboys used. in a few days teddy could fling the coils of his rope and make them settle over a post. of course he had to stand quite close, but even the cowboys, when they learned, had to do that the foreman said. "well, what are you going to do now?" teddy's father asked the little boy one day, as he started out from the house with a small coil of rope on one arm, as he had seen the cowboys carry their lariats. "what are you going to do, ted?" "oh, i'm going to lasso some more," was the answer. "why don't you try something else besides a post?" asked one of uncle frank's men, as he, too, noticed teddy. "throwing a rope over a post is all right to start, but if you want to be a real cowboy you'll have to learn to lasso something that's running on its four legs. that's what most of our lassoing is--roping ponies or steers, and they don't very often stand still for you, the way the post does." "yes," agreed ted, "i guess so. i'll learn to lasso something that runs." his father paid little more attention to the boy, except to notice that he went out into the yard, where he was seen, for a time, tossing the coils of rope over the post. then jan came along, and, as soon as he saw her, teddy asked: "jan, will you do something for me!" "what?" she inquired, not being too ready to make any promises. sometimes teddy got her to say she would do things, and then, when he had her promise, he would tell her something she did not at all want to do. so jan had learned to be careful. "what do you want to do, teddy?" she asked. "play cowboy," he answered. "girls can't be cowboys," janet said. "well, i don't want _you_ to be one," went on teddy. "i'll be the cowboy." "then what'll _i_ be?" asked jan. "that won't be any fun, for you to do that and me do nothing!" "oh, i've got something for you to do," said teddy, and he was quite serious over it. "you see, jan, i've got to learn to lasso something that moves. the post won't move, but you can run." "do you mean run and play tag?" jan asked. teddy shook his head. "you make believe you're a wild cow or a pony," he explained, "and you run along in front of me. then i'll throw my rope around your head, or around your legs, and i'll pull on it and you----" "yes, and i'll fall down and get all dirt!" finished jan. "ho! i don't call _that_ any fun for me!" "well, i won't lasso you very hard," promised ted; "and i've got to learn to throw my rope at something that moves, the cowboys say, else i can't ever be a real wild-wester. go on, jan! run along and let me lasso you!" jan did not want to, but teddy teased her so hard that she finally gave in and said she would play she was a pony for a little while. teddy wanted her to be a wild steer, but she said ponies could run faster than the cattle, and jan was a good runner. "and if i run fast it will be harder for you to lasso me," she said, "and that's good practice for you, same as it is good for me when i practice my music scales fast, only i don't do it very much." "well, you run along and i'll lasso you," said teddy. "only we'd better go around to the back of the house. maybe they wouldn't like to see me doing it." "who; the cowboys?" asked his sister. "no, father and mother," replied teddy. "i don't guess they'd want me to play this game, but i won't hurt you. come on." the little boy and girl--teddy carrying his small lasso--went out to a field not far from the house, and there they played cowboy. as they had planned, teddy was the cowboy and janet the wild pony, and she ran around until she was tired. teddy ran after her, now and then throwing the coils of rope at her. sometimes the lasso settled over her head, and then the little boy would pull it tight, but he was careful not to pull too hard for fear he might hurt jan. once the rope went around her legs, and that time teddy gave a sudden yank. "oh, i'm falling!" cried jan, and she went down in a heap. "that's fine!" cried teddy. "that's regular wild-wester cowboy! do it again, jan!" "no! it hurts!" objected the little girl. "you pulled me so hard i fell down." "i didn't mean to," said teddy. "but i can lasso good, can't i?" "yes; pretty good," his sister agreed. "but you can't lasso me any more. i don't want to play. i'm going to the house." "did i hurt you much?" teddy asked. "well, not such an awful lot," admitted jan. "i fell on some soft grass, though, or you would have. anyhow, i'm going in." teddy looked a little sad for a minute, and then he cried: "oh, i know what i can do! you stay and watch me, jan." "what are you going to do?" she asked. "you'll see," he answered. "here, you hold my lasso a minute." teddy ran off across the field, and when he came back to where his sister was still holding the coil of rope the curlytop boy was leading by a rope a little calf, one of several that were kept in the stable and fed milk from a pail. "what are you going to do, teddy martin?" asked the little girl. "i'm going to play he's a wild steer," answered teddy. "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried janet, much as her mother might have done. "you're not going to lasso him, are you?" "i am--if i can," and teddy spoke slowly. he was not quite sure he could. the calf came along easily enough, for teddy had petted it and fed it several times. "he's awful nice," said janet. "you won't hurt him, will you?" "course not!" cried teddy. "i'll only lasso him a little. now you come and hold him by the rope that's on his neck, jan. and when i tell you to let go, why, you let go. then he'll run and i can lasso _him_. i've got to lasso something that's running, else it isn't real wild-wester." jan was ready enough to play this game. she took hold of the calf's rope, and teddy got his lasso ready. but just as the little fellow was about to tell his sister to let the calf loose, along came uncle frank and he saw what was going on. "oh, my, teddy!" cried the ranchman. "you mustn't do that, curlytop! the little calf might fall and break a leg. wait until you get bigger before you try to lasso anything that's alive. come on, we'll have other fun than this. i'm going to drive into town and you curlytops can come with me." so the calf was put back in the stable, and teddy gave up lassoing for that day. he and jan had fun riding to town with uncle frank, who bought them some sticks of peppermint candy. baby william had his own fun on the ranch. his mother took care of him most of the time, leaving janet and teddy to do as they pleased. she wanted them to learn to ride, and she knew they could not do it and take care of their little brother. but trouble had his own ways of having fun. he often watched teddy throwing the lasso, and one afternoon, when ted had finished with his rope and left it lying on a bench near the house, trouble picked up the noose. "me lasso, too," he said to himself. just what he did no one knew, but not long after teddy had laid aside the lariat, as the lasso is sometimes called, loud squawks, crowings and cackles from the chicken yard were heard. "what in the world can be the matter with my hens?" cried aunt millie. ted and janet ran out to see. what they saw made them want to laugh, but they did not like to do it. trouble had lassoed the big rooster! chapter xii the bucking bronco with a small rope around the neck of the crowing rooster--which could not crow as loudly as it had before, because it was nearly choked--trouble was dragging the fowl along after him as he ran across the yard. "trouble! trouble!" cried aunt millie. "what are you doing?" "playin' cowboy!" was his answer. "i lasso rooster wif my rope, like teddy catches post." "oh, you mustn't do that!" cried aunt millie, as she ran after the small boy and the dragging rooster. "cock-a doodle-do!" crowed the rooster, or, rather, it tried to crow that way, but it would get only about half of it out and then trouble would pull the rope tight about the fowl's neck and the crow would be shut off suddenly. [illustration: trouble had lassoed the big rooster! _the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch_ _page _] "gid-dap, pony!" cried baby william, trotting along on his short, fat legs, making-believe, as he often did, that he was riding horseback. "gid-dap! i lasso a rooster, i did!" "yes, and you'll kill the poor thing if you're not careful," panted aunt millie, as she raced after the little fellow and caught him. then she gently pulled the rooster to her by means of the rope, and took it off the fowl's neck. the rooster was bedraggled from having been dragged through the dust and the dirt, and it was so dizzy from having been whirled around by trouble that it could hardly stand up. aunt millie smoothed out its feathers and got it some water. the rooster drank a little and seemed to feel better. then it ran off to join the other roosters and the cackling hens that had been watching what trouble did, doubtless wondering what had gotten into the lassoed rooster to make it run around the way it did on the end of a rope. but it was baby william who made all the trouble. "you must never do that again," said mrs. martin when she came out of the ranch house and heard what her little boy had done. "that was very wrong, william, to lasso the poor rooster and drag it about with a rope around its neck." "i not do it any more," promised trouble. "but i want a lasso like teddy." "no, you're not big enough for that," his mother said. "you must wait until you are a little older. don't bother the chickens any more." "no, i only get de eggs," promised baby william. "and please don't lasso them, or you'll break them," put in aunt millie; but janet thought her "eyes laughed," as she later told teddy. "no more lasso?" asked trouble, looking at the rope his aunt had taken from the rooster's long neck. "no more lasso!" exclaimed mrs. barton, trying not to smile, for the sight of the rooster, caught the way he had been, made even the older folks want to laugh. ted and janet did laugh, but they did not let trouble see them. if he had he might have thought he had done something smart or cute, and he would try it over again the first chance he had. so they had to pretend to be sharp with him. the rooster was not hurt by being lassoed. afterward trouble told how he did it. with the slip-noose of the rope in one hand and holding the rope's end in the other, baby william walked quietly up behind the rooster and tossed the loop over its head. then he pulled it tight and started to run, as he had seen the cow ponies galloping to pull down a horse or steer that needed to be branded or marked with the sign of the ring rosy ranch. the rooster was very tame, often eating out of aunt millie's hand, so he was not afraid to let trouble come up quite close to him. one day, about a week after the curlytops had found clipclap in the cave, jim mason said he thought the pony was well enough to be ridden. clipclap was brought out in the yard and teddy and janet went up to him. the pony put his nose close to them and rubbed his head against their outstretched hands. "see, he knows us!" cried janet. "and i guess he's thanking us for bringing him water," added her brother. "and getting the doctor to cure him of poison," went on the little girl. "i'm glad he likes you, teddy." "and your pony likes you, too, janet," said the little boy. janet's pony, star face, certainly seemed to like her. for he came when she called him and took lumps of sugar from her hand. he liked teddy, too. in fact both ponies were very pretty and friendly and it would be hard to say which was the better. janet liked hers and teddy liked his, and that is the best thing i can say about them. no one came to claim clipclap. though uncle frank spoke to a number of other ranchmen about finding the sick pony, none of them had ever seen clipclap before as far as they knew. if he belonged to some other ranch it must have been far away. "so you may feel that it is all right for you to keep your pony, curlytop," said uncle frank to teddy. "if anyone should, later, say it belongs to him, and can prove it, we'll give it up, of course." "but i don't want to give clipclap up!" teddy cried. "well, maybe you won't have to," said his father. "but you must not keep what is not yours. anyhow, if you should have to give up clipclap uncle frank will give you another pony." "there couldn't be any as nice as clipclap--not even janet's star face," declared teddy. he felt bad at the thought of having to give up his pet, but there was no need to, for as the weeks went on no one came to claim clipclap, and teddy counted him as his own. by this time teddy and janet had learned to ride quite well for such little children. they knew how to sit in a saddle, up straight like an arrow, and not slouched down or all humped up "like a bag of meal," as uncle frank was wont to say. they knew how to guide their ponies by pulling on the reins to left or to right, according to which way they wanted to go. of course they could not ride very fast yet, and mother martin was just as glad they could not, for she was afraid, if they did, they might fall off and get hurt. but teddy and janet were careful, and they knew how to sit in the saddle with their feet in the stirrups. "they're getting to be good little riders," said jim mason to uncle frank one day. "i'll take 'em with me the next time i go for a short ride." "maybe we could find the bad indians that took your horses, uncle frank," said teddy. "well, i wish you could," said the owner of ring rosy ranch. the cowboys had not been able to get back the stolen horses nor find the indians who had run them off. other ranches, too, had been robbed and a number of head of horses and cattle had been driven away. "we've looked all over for those indians," said uncle frank, "but we can't find 'em. if you curlytops can, i'll give you each another pony." "i'd like clipclap best though," announced teddy. "what could we do with two?" asked janet. "oh, every cowboy or cowgirl, for that matter, has more than one horse when he can," said jim mason. "then if one gets lame he has another to ride. but don't you curlytops go off by yourselves looking for those bad indians!" he warned them. "we won't," promised teddy. "we'll only go with you or uncle frank." "we don't find them," said the ranch owner. "i guess the indians sold the horses and cattle and then they hid themselves. well, i hope they don't take any more of my animals." but there was more trouble ahead for uncle frank. the curlytops had a fine time on his ranch, though. when teddy and janet were not riding, they were watching the cowboys at work or play, for the men who looked after uncle frank's cattle had good times as well as hard work. they would often come riding and swooping in from the distant fields after their day's work, yelling and shouting as well as firing off their big revolvers. but neither the curlytops nor their mother were as frightened at this play of the cowboys as they had been at first. "i wish i had a gun that would go bang," said teddy one day. "oh, the-o-dore mar-tin!" cried his sister, after the fashion of her mother. "if you had i'd never go riding ponyback with you--never again! i'd be afraid of you! so there!" "well, so would the indians!" said ted. however he knew he was too small to have a firearm, so he did not tease for it. sometimes, when uncle frank or his foreman, jim mason, went on short rides around the ranch, teddy and janet went with them on their ponies. star face and clipclap were two sturdy little animals, and were gentle with the children. "come on! let's have a race!" ted would call. "all right. but don't go too fast," janet would answer, and they would trot off, the ponies going as fast as was safe for the children. teddy generally won these races, for janet, who was very tender-hearted, did not like to make her pony go as fast as it could go. often, perhaps, if janet had urged star face on she would have beaten her brother, for clipclap still felt a little weak, now and then, from his illness. one day a cowboy came in, riding hard from a far-off part of the ranch. "i guess something is the matter, jan," said teddy, as they saw the horseman gallop past. "what?" she asked as they noticed him talking to the foreman. "maybe he's found the indians that took uncle frank's horses," her brother answered. the children drew near enough to hear what the cowboy and the foreman were talking about. "more horses gone!" exclaimed jim mason. "well, we'll surely have to get after those indians; that's all there is about it!" "more horses stolen?" asked daddy martin, coming out just then. "yes," answered jim mason. "a lot of good ones. i guess more indians must have run away from the reservation. we'll have to hunt them down!" "oh, i wish i could go!" sighed teddy. "i'd like to be an indian fighter." "you'll have to grow a lot bigger," said his uncle, with a laugh. uncle frank and some of the cowboys rode over the prairie, trying to find the stealing indians, but they could not. nor could they find the missing horses, either. "it's a good thing uncle frank has lots of cattle," said teddy that night when the cowboys came back to the ranch house, not having found the horse thieves. "if he didn't have he'd be poor when the indians take his animals." "he'll be poor if the indians keep on the way they have been doing," said aunt millie. "i hope he can catch the bad men!" ted and janet hoped so too, but they did not see how they could help, though teddy wanted to. however he was kept near the house. "come on and see the bucking bronco, curlytops!" called uncle frank to teddy and janet one day. "what is it?" asked the little girl. "a bucking bronco jumps up in the air with all four feet off the ground at once, and comes down as stiff as a board," explained uncle frank. "that isn't nice for the man that's in the saddle, though the cowboys know how to ride most bucking broncos, that are really sort of wild horses." "i'd like to see 'em!" cried teddy. "you may," promised his uncle. "the cowboys have a bucking bronco out in the corral and they're taking turns trying to ride him. come along if you want to see the fun." it was fun, but some hard work, too, for one after another the cowboys fell out of the saddle of the bucking bronco as they tried to ride him. now and then one would stay on the wild animal's back longer than had any of his friends, not falling when the bronco leaped up in the air and came down with his legs as stiff as those of an old fashioned piano. "ki-yi! yippi-i-yip!" yelled the cowboys, as they dashed about on the bucking bronco, swinging their hats or their quirts, which are short-handled whips, in the air over their heads. they did not mind being thrown, and each one tried to ride the wild bronco. none could stay in the saddle more than a few minutes at a time though. "well, i guess i'll have to ride that animal myself," said jim mason, when all the other cowboys had tried and had fallen or jumped from the saddle. the foreman was a fine rider. "yes, i guess i can ride that bronco," he said. "give the pony a chance to get his breath," suggested one of the cowboys. "i don't reckon you can ride him though, jim." "i'll try," was the answer. the bronco was led to a corner of the corral, or stable yard, and tied. then the foreman made ready to try to stay in the saddle longer than had any of his men, for when a bronco bucks it is like trying to hold on to a swing that is turning topsy-turvy. suddenly, as teddy and janet were looking at some of the funny tricks the cowboys were playing on one another, uncle frank gave a cry. "look at trouble!" he exclaimed. baby william had crawled through the fence and was close to the dangerous heels of the bucking bronco. chapter xiii missing cattle for a moment none of the cowboys made a move. they were too frightened at what might happen to trouble. if it had been one of their own friends who had gone into the corral where the dangerous bronco was standing, they would have known what to do. they would have called for him to "look out!" and the cowboy would have kept away from the animal. but it was different with trouble. to him one horse was like another. he liked them all, and he never thought any of them would kick or bite him. the bucking bronco was most dangerous of all. "oh, trouble!" exclaimed janet softly. "i--i'll get him!" whispered teddy. "i can crawl in there and run and get him before that bronco----" "you stay right where you are, curlytop!" exclaimed jim mason. "we don't want you both hurt, and if you go in there now you might start that crazy horse to kicking. stay where you are. i'll get trouble for you." "maybe if i called to him he'd come," said janet. she, too, spoke in a whisper. in fact no one had made a noise since trouble had been seen crawling under the corral fence, close to the bucking bronco. "no, don't call, janet," said the foreman. "you might make the bronco give a jump, and then he'd step on your little brother. that horse is a savage one, and he's so excited now, from so many of the cowboys having tried to ride him, that he might break loose and kick trouble. we've got to keep quiet." the cowboys seemed to know this, for none of them said a word. they kept very still and watched trouble. baby william thought he was going to have a good time. he had wandered out of the house when his mother was not looking. seeing ted, janet and the cowboys down by the corral, he made up his mind that was the place for him. "maybe i get a horse wide," he said to himself, for he was about as eager over horses as his sister or brother, and, so far, the only rides he had had were when he sat in the saddle in front with them or with his father, and went along very slowly indeed. for they dared not let the horse go fast when trouble was with them, and trouble wanted to go fast. "me go get wide myse'f," he murmured, and then, when no one was looking, he slipped under the corral fence. he was now toddling close to the heels of the bronco. "nice horsie," said trouble in his sweetest voice. "i get on your back an' have nice wide!" trouble always had hard work to sound the r in ride. "wide" he always called it. nearer and nearer he came to the bronco. the animal, without turning its head, knew that someone was coming up behind. many a time a cowboy had tried to fool the savage horse that way, and leap into the saddle without being seen. but imp, as the bronco was named, knew all those tricks. he turned back his ears, and when a horse does that it is not a good sign. almost always it means he is going to bite or kick. in this case imp would have to kick, as trouble was too far behind to be bitten. and imp did not seem to care that it was a little boy who was behind, and not a big cowboy. imp was going to do his worst. but jim mason was getting ready to save trouble. going around to the side, where he could not be seen so well, the foreman quickly leaped over the fence. and then he ran swiftly toward trouble, never saying a word. the bronco heard the sound of running feet. he turned his head around to see who else was coming to bother him and then, before imp could do anything and before trouble could reach and put his little hands on the dangerous heels, the foreman caught up baby william and jumped back with him, out of the way in case imp should kick. and kick imp did! his heels shot out as he laid his ears farther back on his head and he gave a shrill scream, as horses can when they are angry. "no you don't! not this time!" cried jim mason, as he ran back to the fence with trouble. "and you must never go into the corral or near horses again, trouble! do you hear?" and the foreman spoke to baby william as though very angry indeed. but he had to do this, for the little fellow must learn not to go into danger. "don't ever go in there again!" said the foreman, as he set trouble down on the ground in a safe place. "no, me not go," was the answer, and baby william's lips quivered as though he were going to cry. "well, that's all right, old man!" said the foreman in kind tones. for he loved children and did not even like to hurt their feelings. "i didn't mean to scare you." but he had scared trouble, or, rather the sudden catching up of the little fellow and the pony's scream had frightened him, and janet's baby brother began to cry, hiding his head in her dress. but, after all, that was the best thing to make trouble remember that he must not go in the corral, and he had soon forgotten his tears and was laughing at the funny tricks imp cut up as jim mason tried to ride him. the foreman, after he had carried trouble safely out of the way, went back in the corral and jumped on the bucking bronco's back. then imp did all he could to get the man out of the saddle. around and around the corral dashed the cow pony, and when he found that jim stuck on the horse began jumping up in the air--bucking as the cowboys call it. even that did not shake the foreman to the ground. then, suddenly, the horse fell down. but it was not an accident. he did it on purpose, and then he began to roll over, thinking this, surely, would get that man off his back. it did. but when imp tried to roll over on the foreman, to hurt him, jim mason just laughed and jumped out of the way. he knew imp would probably do this and he was ready for him. jim watched imp, and as soon as the bronco stopped rolling and stood up again the foreman jumped into the saddle. this was too much for imp. he made up his mind he could not get rid of such a good rider, so the horse settled down and galloped around the corral as he ought to do. "hurray! jim rides him after all!" cried some of the cowboys. "i told you i'd stick to him," said the foreman with a laugh. "i wish i could ride that way," said teddy, with a little sigh when jim came out of the corral and left imp to have a rest. "well, maybe you will some day," said the foreman. "you've got a good start, and there's no better place to learn to ride ponyback than at ring rosy ranch." one warm, pleasant afternoon, when they had played about the house for some time, amusing themselves at the games they were wont to pass the time with in the east, jan called to her brother: "let's go and take a ride on our ponies!" "all right," agreed teddy. "where'll we go?" "oh, not very far. mother told us we mustn't go very far when we're alone." "that was before we knew how to ride," declared the little boy. "i guess we ride good enough now to take long rides." "but not now," insisted jan. "we'll only go for a little way, or i'm not going to play." "all right," teddy agreed. "we won't go very far." so they went out to the stable where their ponies were kept, and there one of the cowboys kindly saddled clipclap and star face for the little curlytops. uncle frank had given orders to his men that they were to let the children have the ponies whenever it was safe to ride, and this was one of the nicest days of the summer. "don't let 'em run away with you!" laughed the cowboy, as he helped jan and ted into their saddles. "oh, clipclap and star face won't run away!" declared the little girl. "they're too nice." "yes, they are nice ponies," agreed the cowboy. "well, good-bye and good luck." riding up to the house, to tell their mother they were going for a ride, but would keep within sight or calling distance, ted and jan were soon guiding their ponies across the prairie. the children had soon learned to sit well in the saddles, and knew how to guide their ponies. and the little animals were very safe. "somehow or other, i don't feel at all worried here when the children are out of my sight--i mean teddy and janet," said mrs. martin to her husband, when the curlytops had ridden away. "yes, uncle frank's ranch does seem a safe place for them," mr. martin answered. "lots of 'down east' people think the west is a dangerous place. well, maybe it is in spots, but it is very nice here." on over the prairies rode teddy and janet. now and then the little girl would stop her pony and look back. "what are you looking for?" teddy asked. "do you think trouble is following us?" "no, but we mustn't go too far from the house. we must stay in sight of it, mother said." "well, we will," promised ted. but, after a while, perhaps it was because it was so nice to ride along on the ponies' backs, or because the little animals went faster than ted or janet imagined--i don't know just how it did happen, but, all at once, jan looked back and gave a cry. "why, what's the matter, jan?" asked teddy. "we--we're lost!" gasped the little girl. "i can't see uncle frank's house anywhere!" it was true enough. none of the ranch buildings were in sight, and for a moment ted, too, was frightened. then as his pony moved on, a little ahead of jan's, the boy gave a cry of delight. "there it is! i can see the house!" he said. "we're not lost. we were just down in a hollow i guess." and so it was. the prairies, though they look level, are made up of little hills and valleys, or hollows. down in between two hills one might be very near a house and yet not see it. "now we're all right," went on teddy. "yes," agreed janet. "we're not lost any more." so they rode on a little farther, the ponies now and then stopping to crop a bit of the sweet grass, when, all of a sudden, teddy, who was still a little ahead of his sister, called: "look there, jan!" "where?" teddy pointed. his sister saw several men on horseback--at least that is what they looked like--coming toward them. something about the figures seemed a bit strange to the children. ted and jan looked at one another and then back toward the ranch houses, which, they made sure, were not out of sight this time. "are they cowboys?" asked jan of her brother. "they--they don't just look like 'em," he said. "i mean like uncle frank's cowboys." "that's what i thought," janet added. "they look like they had blankets on--some of 'em." she and teddy sat on their ponies' backs and kept looking at the other figures. they were coming nearer, that was sure, and as they came closer it was more and more certain to the curlytops that some of the strangers on the horses were wrapped in blankets. "oh, i know what they are!" suddenly cried janet. "what?" "in--indians!" faltered janet. "oh, teddy, if they should be _wild_ indians!" "pooh!" exclaimed teddy, trying to speak bravely. "uncle frank said there weren't any very wild indians near his ranch." "maybe these ones wasn't near the ranch before, but they're coming near now," said janet, so excited the words tumbled out all mixed-up like. "i'm going home!" "i--i guess i'll go with you," added teddy, as he turned his pony's head about. "we'd better tell uncle frank the indians are coming. maybe they want more of his horses." "oh, he won't let 'em have any!" cried janet. "but they _are_ indians sure enough!" she went on, as she took a look over her shoulder. and there was no doubt about it. as the group of riders came closer to the children, whose ponies did not go as fast as the larger horses, it was seen that they were indeed indians, many of them wrapped in blankets. there were men, women, boys and girls, and some of the smaller children were carried wrapped tightly to their mothers' backs. up to the ranch rode teddy and jan as fast as their ponies would take them without tossing off the curlytops. "oh, uncle frank!" cried teddy. "they're coming!" "a lot of 'em!" shouted janet. "what's that?" asked the ranchman. "who are coming?" "indians to take more of your ponies!" teddy gasped. for a time there was some little excitement on the ranch, until one of the cowboys, riding out to see the indians, came back and said they were not "wild" ones, but a band that went about selling baskets and other things they made. they did no harm, and for a time camped near the ranch, the children, even trouble, going over to see them. but for some time the curlytops did not forget the fright their first view of the indians gave them. in the days that followed teddy and janet had many rides on clipclap and star face, their two nice ponies. sometimes they were allowed to go a little way over the prairies by themselves. but when they went for a long ride uncle frank, jim mason, their father or some of the cowboys were with them. "after a while maybe i'll learn how to ride so i can go off with you and help get the indians that stole your horses. do you think i can, uncle frank?" asked teddy one day. "well, maybe, curlytop. we surely must find those indians, for i don't like to lose all those horses. as soon as i get some of my work done i'll have another look for them." and then, a few days later, more bad news came to uncle frank. with his cowboys he was getting some cattle ready to ship away to a distant city, from where they were to be sent still farther away in a train of cattle cars, when a cowboy, who seemed much excited, came riding up to the corral. he looked very tired and warm, for the weather was hot, and his horse was covered with flecks of foam, as though it had been ridden hard and far. "what's the matter, henry?" asked uncle frank. "indian thieves!" was the answer. "a band of the indians have run away with a lot of your best cattle!" "they have?" cried uncle frank. "how do you know?" "i saw 'em, and i chased 'em. but they got away from me. maybe if we start right out now we can catch 'em and get back the cattle." "then we'll go!" cried uncle frank. teddy and janet were very much excited when they saw the cowboys saddling their mustangs ready for the chase. chapter xiv looking for indians "can't we come along?" asked teddy, as he saw uncle frank lead his horse out of the corral. "and i want to come, too!" added janet. "oh, no! we couldn't think of letting you!" answered uncle frank. "come on, boys! get ready. we'll have to ride fast!" "we can ride fast!" added teddy. "you said, the other day, uncle frank, i could ride real good!" "so you can, curlytop." "then why can't we come? jan--she's a good rider, too!" "why the idea of you children thinking you can go off on a hunt for indians!" exclaimed their mother. "we want to go--awful much!" teddy murmured. "not this time, curly boy," said the ranchman. "we may have to be out all night, and it looks like rain. you stay at home with janet, and i'll tell you all about it when i come back." "will you, truly?" "truly i will." "and if you get any indians will you bring 'em here?" teddy demanded. "no, don't!" cried janet quickly. "i don't want to see any indians." "but they're _tame_ ones," said her brother. "they can't be _awful_ tame, else they wouldn't run away with uncle frank's cows," declared the little girl. "that's right!" laughed uncle frank. "i guess we won't bring any indians here, curlytop, even if we catch 'em, which we may not do as they have a good start of us. anyhow we'll have to turn the redmen back to their reservation where they belong if we get any of them. we'll just take my cattle and horses away, if we can, and tell the indians to go home and be good." "will they do it?" asked daddy martin. "it's hard to say," answered uncle frank. "i'd like to make 'em stop taking my animals, though. well, i guess we'll start. we'll be back as soon as we can." so he rode off with his cowboys after the indians. the cowboy who had ridden in with the news went back with the others to show them where he had last seen the cattle thieves. he stopped at the ranch house long enough, though, to get something to eat, and then rode away again. but he found time to talk a while to the curlytops. "where did you see the indians?" teddy asked while the cowboy was eating and uncle frank and the others getting ready for the chase. "oh, i was giving my pony a drink at the spring in the rocks when i saw the indians across the prairie--field, i guess you'd call it back east." "well, the prairies are big fields," observed janet. "so they are, curly girl," laughed the cowboy. "well, it was while i was watering my horse that i saw the indians." "you mean at the spring in the rocks where jan and i found clipclap in the cave?" teddy asked. "that's the place, curlytop. i chased after them to see which way they were driving off your uncle frank's cattle, but i saw they were too many for me, so i came on back as fast as my horse would bring me." "was there a lot of indians?" teddy inquired. "quite a few," answered the cowboy. "well, now i've got to go and help chase them," and he hurried through his meal and rode off with uncle frank and the others. "say, i wish we _could_ go, don't you, janet?" asked teddy of his sister, when they were left by themselves near the corral. "no, i don't! i don't want to chase indians!" "well, i'd chase 'em and you could watch me." "you're not big enough," said the little girl. "indians are awful big. don't you remember the one we saw at the station?" "yes. but maybe the ones that took uncle frank's ponies are little indians." "i don't care," janet said. "i don't want to chase after any of 'em. i don't like 'em." "all right--then i won't go," decided teddy. "but let's go and take a ride on our ponies." [illustration: over the prairies rode janet and ted. _the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch_ _page _] "yes, i'll do that," agreed janet, and soon, having had one of the cowboys who had been left behind at ring rosy ranch saddle clipclap and star face, the curlytops started for their ride. "don't go too far!" called mrs. martin after the children. "no, we won't," they promised. "i wants to go wide too!" begged trouble. "i 'ikes a wide on a ponyback." "not now, my dear," his mother said. "we'll go in the shade and pick flowers," and she carried him away where he would not see teddy and janet go off, for that made trouble fretful. he wanted to be with them. over the prairie rode janet and ted. their ponies went slowly, for the children had been told not to ride fast when they were alone. but, after a while, ted got tired of this slow motion. "let's have a race, jan!" he called. "i can beat you from here to that hill," and he pointed to one not far away. "mother said we couldn't ride fast," objected the little girl. "well, we won't ride _very_ fast," agreed ted. "come on, just a little run." janet, too, wanted to go a bit faster, and so, when her pony was in a line with ted's, she called sharply: "gid-dap, star face!" "gid-dap, clipclap!" cried teddy. the two ponies started to run. "oh, i'm going to beat! i'm going to beat!" janet cried, for she saw that star face was getting ahead of clipclap. "no you're not!" shouted teddy, and he touched his heel to the pony's flank. clipclap gave a jump forward, and then something happened. teddy took a flying leap, and right over clipclap's head he sailed, coming down on his hands and knees some distance off. clipclap fell down and rolled over in the grass while janet kept on toward the hill that marked the end of the race. the little girl reached this place first, not being able to stop her pony when she saw what had happened to teddy. but as soon as she could turn around she rode back to him and asked anxiously: "are you hurt, ted?" "no--no. i--i guess not," he answered slowly. "is clipclap?" asked janet. the pony answered for himself by getting up, giving himself a shake and then beginning to eat some grass. "what happened?" janet questioned further. "why didn't you come on and race with me? i won!" "yes, i guess you did," admitted teddy, getting up and brushing the dust off his clothes. "but i'd 'a' beaten you, only my pony stumbled and he threw me over his head. i went right over his head; didn't i janet?" "yes, you did, teddy. and you looked awful funny! but i'm glad you're not hurt." "so'm i." "what made clipclap stumble?" asked the little girl. "i guess he stepped in a gopher's hole," answered her brother. "let's look," proposed janet. brother and sister went to the place where clipclap had stumbled. there they saw a little hole in the ground. it was the front, or maybe the back, door of the home of a little animal called a gopher, which burrows under the earth. a gopher is a sort of squirrel-like rat, and on the prairies they make many holes which are dangerous if a horse suddenly steps into them. prairie dogs are another species of animal that burrow on the western plains, making holes into which horses or ponies often step, breaking their legs and throwing their riders. this time nothing had happened except that teddy and the pony had been shaken up. the pony might have broken a leg but did not, nor was teddy even scratched. cowboys always dread gopher and prairie dog holes, especially at night when they can not be so easily seen. "oh, i know what let's do!" exclaimed janet, when she found that her brother was all right. "what?" asked teddy. "let's wait here until the gopher comes up!" "all right. then we'll catch him and take him home to trouble." chapter xv trouble "helps" janet and teddy sat beside the gopher hole, while their ponies, not far from them, ate the sweet grass of the prairie. clipclap and star face did not wander away, even if they were not tied to a hitching post. for western horses and cow ponies are trained to stand where their master leaves them, if he will but toss the reins over their heads and let them rest on the ground. when a pony sees that this has been done he will never run away, unless perhaps something frightens him very much. it may be that he thinks, when the reins are over his head and down on the ground, they are tied to something, so he could not run away if he wanted to. at any rate, clipclap and star face stayed where ted and janet left them, and the little curlytops watched the gopher hole. "i wonder when he'll come out," said janet after a bit. "shs-s-s-s!" whispered teddy. "don't talk!" "why not?" asked his sister. "'cause you might scare him. you mustn't talk any more than if you were fishing." "a gopher isn't a fish!" "i know it," said teddy. "but you've got to keep quiet." so he and janet remained very quiet, watching the hole. suddenly janet gave teddy a slight tap with her hand. he had looked off to see if the ponies were all right. "what's the matter?" asked teddy. "hush!" whispered janet. "there he is." she pointed to the gopher's hole. teddy saw a tiny black nose and a pair of sparkling eyes as a head was thrust a little way out of the burrow. "i'll get him!" cried the little boy. with outstretched hand he made a grab toward the hole. but his fingers only grasped a lot of dirt and stones. the gopher had dived down back into his hole as soon as he saw teddy's first move. "oh, he got away!" said janet sorrowfully. "i'll get him next time," declared teddy. but he did not. three or four times more the little animal put his small head and bright eyes out of the top of the hole, and each time teddy made a grab for him; but the gopher was too quick. finally janet said: "i guess we better go home, teddy." "why?" "oh, it's getting late, and i'm getting hungry." "so'm i. i'll wait until he comes up once more and then we'll go." once more the gopher peeped up, as if wondering why in the world those two strange children did not go away and let him alone. ted made a grab for him, but missed and then the little boy said: "come on, jan. now we'll go home!" "and we haven't any nice little gopher to take to trouble," said janet sadly. "oh, well, maybe it would bite him if we did catch one," reflected her brother. "i'll take him some of these pretty stones," and he picked up some from the ground. "he'll like to play with these." teddy whistled for his pony and clipclap came slowly up to his little master. janet held out a bunch of grass to star face and her pony, just as he had been taught, came up to her. teddy helped his sister get up in the saddle. it was not hard for them, as the ponies were small, and jim mason had showed them how to put one foot in the stirrup, and then, with one hand on the saddle and the other grasping both the bridle and the pony's mane, give a jump that carried them up. but though janet could mount her pony alone teddy always helped her when he was with her by holding the stirrup. "let's have another race home," suggested teddy, when they had started. "no," answered his sister. "you might fall some more and get hurt. we'll ride slow." so they did, though teddy was anxious for a good, fast gallop. "well, did you have a nice time?" asked mother martin, as they came to the house after putting away their ponies. "we had lots of fun," answered janet. "teddy fell off his pony----" "fell off his pony!" cried her mother. "he threw me!" explained ted, and then he told what had happened. "an' didn't you catch noffin for me?" asked trouble, who heard his brother telling the story of his adventure. "i brought you these nice stones," and teddy took them out of his pocket. "you can play with them, trouble." baby william laughed and sat down to play with the stones. "did the cowboys come back with the indians?" asked teddy of aunt millie when she was giving him and janet some bread and jam to eat. "no, not yet, curlytop. i expect uncle frank and the boys will be gone all night." "will they have a house to sleep in?" asked janet. "no, unless they happen to be near one when it gets dark. but they took their blankets with them, and it's so warm that they'll just wrap up in them and sleep out on the prairie," said aunt millie. "won't they be hungry?" teddy inquired, as he took a big bite of the bread and jam. "oh, no! don't you remember i told you they always take something to eat with them when they go out this way? they are used to camping on the prairies, and they know how to make a fire, broil the bacon and make their coffee," answered aunt millie. "you need never worry about uncle frank and his cowboys. they'll be all right." and so they were. it was not until the next afternoon that the party which had gone out to chase the indians came back. they were tired, because they had ridden a good many miles, but they said they had slept well and had had enough to eat. "did you catch the indians?" asked teddy eagerly. "no, curlytop," answered uncle frank. "i'm sorry to say we did not. they got away from us." "did you see them?" asked daddy martin. "yes, but they were a long way off. too far for us to get at them." "and did they have your cattle with them?" "yes, they had a lot of my best animals. i guess they must be hiding away somewhere among the hills and mountains. we came pretty close to them at one time, and they suddenly disappeared. it seems as if they must have gone into a big hole or cave. we couldn't find them." "are you going to look any more?" teddy questioned. "and if you do go, uncle frank, please can't i go too?" "well, most likely we will have another hunt for the indians," answered the ranchman, "but i'm afraid we couldn't take you along, curlytop." "why not, uncle frank?" "oh, you might get hurt." "well, can i see the indians after you catch 'em?" "oh, yes, i guess i can promise you _that_," and uncle frank smiled at daddy martin. "and can i ask them to make me a bow and arrows?" went on teddy. "yes, you can _ask_ them, but i don't believe they will," uncle frank replied. "these indians aren't very nice. they're quite bad, in fact, and we all wish they'd stay where they belong and not come off their reservation and steal our cattle and horses." "well, i'm going to ask one to make me a bow and some arrows when you catch 'em," decided teddy. that afternoon teddy saw his sister trying to do something with bits of string and sticks in a shady spot on the porch. "what are you making, jan," he asked. "a cat's cradle?" "pooh! you don't make a cat's cradle with sticks," said the little girl. "well, i thought maybe it was a new kind, or maybe a _kitten's_ cradle," laughed teddy. "nope; it isn't that either," went on janet, as she kept on twisting the strings around the sticks. "well, what _are_ you making?" "a bow and arrow." "ho! ho!" laughed jan's brother. "you can't make a bow and arrow _that_ way. anyhow you don't need a string for an arrow." "i know _that_!" jan said. "but i'm making the bow first, and then i'm going to make the arrow. the arrow part is what you shoot, isn't it, ted?" "yes," he answered. "i'll help you, jan. i didn't mean to laugh at you," he went on, for he saw that janet was very much in earnest about what she was doing. "i know how to make a bow and arrows." "oh, please show me!" begged janet. "i want to know how to shoot like the indians." teddy, however, did not have much better luck making the bow than his sister had had. the trouble was that the sticks janet had picked up were not the right kind. they would not bend, and to make a bow that shoots arrows a piece of wood that springs, or bends, is needed. for it is the springy action of the wood that shoots the arrow on its way. after trying two or three times, each time finding something wrong, teddy said: "oh, i don't guess i can make a bow, either. let's play something else." "what'll we play?" asked janet. teddy thought for a few moments. playing out at uncle frank's ranch was different from playing at home. in some ways it was not so easy, for at home if the curlytops could not think up any way to have fun by themselves, they could run down the street and find some other boys and girls. but here there were no streets, and no other boys or girls unless teddy and janet went a long way to look for them, and they could not do that. "i know what we can do," said teddy, after a while. "we can get some blankets and cookies and play cowboy." "how can you play cowboy with cookies and blankets?" "i'll show you," teddy answered, as he went into the house to get the things he wanted. he soon came out with some old quilts and the cookies, which were in a paper bag. "now," went on janet's brother, "we'll go off on the prairie and make believe it's night and we have to stay out like the cowboys when they went after uncle frank's horses." "oh, that'll be fun!" cried janet, and then she and ted rolled themselves up in the old quilts and pretended to go to sleep on the soft grass of the prairie, making believe it was night, though of course it was not, for the sun was shining. then they ate the cookies, pretending they were bacon, sandwiches, cake and other things that cowboys like. two or three days later uncle frank and the cowboys went out again to look for the indians, but they did not find them. from other ranches word came of cattle and horses that had been stolen, and more cowboys were hired to keep watch over the animals that had to be left out in the big fields to eat their fill of grass. no barn was large enough to hold them. meanwhile teddy and janet were learning how to ride better each day. they could go quite fast now, though they were not allowed to make their ponies gallop except on ground where uncle frank knew there were no holes in which the animals might stumble. sometimes daddy and mother martin went to ride with the children, and then they had good times together, taking their lunch and staying all day out on the prairie or in a shady grove of trees. one day ted and janet saw some cowboys driving a number of ponies to the corral near the ranch buildings. some of the animals were quite wild and went racing about as though they would like to run far off and not come back. but the cowboys knew how to take care of the ponies. they rode around them, keeping them together in a bunch, and if one started to get away the cowboys would fire their revolvers and yell, so the pony would become frightened and turn back. "did you take these ponies away from the indians?" asked teddy, as he saw the little animals turned into the corral and the gate shut on them. "no, these are some that have been running wild in a field away over at the far end of my ranch," explained uncle frank. "i had them brought in, as i'm going to ship some away to be sold." "come on, we'll go and look at the ponies," called ted to his sister. "are they very wild?" he asked jim mason, who had helped the cowboys bring them to the ranch corral. "yes, some of 'em are pretty wild," was the answer. "we had hard work making them come along. they want to get loose and do as they please." ted and janet climbed up on the corral fence to look at the ponies. a few were somewhat tame, and allowed the curlytops to pat them. but others were very wild, and ran about as though looking for a place to jump the fence or get out through a hole. but the fence was good and strong. it was high and had no holes in it. "lots of ponies!" murmured trouble, as he toddled after his brother and sister to the corral. "yes, lots of 'em," agreed janet. "you'll soon be a big boy and you can have a pony to ride like brother and sister." "trouble want pony now!" he exclaimed. "oh, no, not now," janet said as she helped him get up on the lowest board of the fence, part of which was wooden, so he could look in better. "what they run around like that for?" asked trouble, as he saw some of the ponies racing about the corral. "they want to get out," janet answered. "trouble go help," murmured the little fellow, but janet either did not hear what he said or she paid no attention, for just then two of the ponies had a race together around the corral and she and ted wanted to see which would win. trouble got down off the fence and went around to the gate. his brother and sister did not notice him until, all at once, janet, missing her little brother, cried: "where's trouble?" "i don't know," ted answered. "maybe he---- oh, look, janet!" he suddenly cried. "the corral gate is open and all the ponies are running out!" "oh, that's right! they are!" janet then screamed. "but where is trouble?" "i don't know. i guess he---- oh, there he is!" and teddy pointed to a spot near the gate. there stood trouble between the fence and the big gate which had swung back on its hinges. "oh, look at 'em run!" cried janet. "they're all running out!" added teddy excitedly. "i wonder who let 'em loose." "maybe it was trouble," suggested janet. "oh, it _was_!" she went on. "trouble must have opened the gate and let the ponies loose!" chapter xvi on the trail trouble had done that very thing. the little fellow had not meant to do any harm, and certainly thought he was doing something to help, but really he made a great deal of work for uncle frank and the cowboys. the corral, or yard where the half-tamed horses were kept while they were being got ready to send away, was closed by a large gate, but one easy to open if you knew how. all one had to do was to pull on a little handle, which snapped a spring and the gate would swing open. horses and cattle could not open the gate, for they could not reach the handle, even if any of them had known enough to do anything like that. but trouble had watched uncle frank or some of the cowboys open the gate by pulling on the handle; and now he did it himself. then, of course, when the ponies saw the open gate they raced out. "get after 'em!" cried uncle frank who came galloping up on his horse to find out what was the matter. "get after the ponies, boys! round them up!" "round up," is what cowboys call riding around a lot of horses or cattle to keep the animals in one place or to drive them where they should go. uncle frank wanted his cowboys to ride after the runaway ponies and drive them back into the corral. as the wild little horses trotted out through the gate, behind which trouble stood, well out of danger, the cowboys rode after them, yelling and shouting and shooting their revolvers. "what a lot of noise!" cried janet, covering her ears with her hands as she got down off the fence. "i like it!" laughed teddy. "it's like a wild west show!" indeed it was, in a way, but it meant a lot of work for uncle frank and his men. for all the ponies ran out of the corral and were scattering over the prairie. "oh, trouble! did you let the horses out?" asked janet, as her little brother came out from behind the gate and toddled toward her and ted. the runaway horses were now well out of the way. "did you open the gate?" "yes. i did open gate," trouble answered, smiling. "what for?" asked teddy. "help little horses get out," said trouble. "them want to get out and trouble help them. trouble 'ike ponies!" "oh, but, my dear, you shouldn't have done it!" chided mother martin, who had come out of the house to find out what all the excitement was about. "that was very naughty of you. see all the work you have made for uncle frank and his men." "horses run out when trouble open gate," was the only reply baby william made. "yes, i know," went on his mother. "but it was wrong! you must never again open any gates on uncle frank's ranch. just think--the horses might have stepped on you or kicked you!" "we didn't see him near the gate or we'd have stopped him," put in teddy. "that's true," added janet. "the first we saw was the ponies going out, and then we saw trouble behind the gate." "he didn't mean to be bad," said his mother, as she carried him back to the house, "but he has made a lot of work. i'll have to punish him by not letting him out to play for an hour or so. then he'll remember not to open gates again, whether he thinks he is helping horses or not." and, though trouble cried very hard, he was kept in the house. for, as his mother had said, he must have something to make him remember not to do such a thing again. meanwhile uncle frank and the cowboys were busy rounding up the runaway ponies. the little horses, tired of being cooped up in the corral, raced about, kicking up their heels and glad to be out on the prairie again. but the cowboys knew how to handle them. around and around the drove of half-wild ponies rode the yelling and shouting men, firing off many blank cartridges to scare the little animals back into the corral. some of the ponies, frightened by the noise, did turn back. they ran up to the corral gate, which was still open, and sniffed at the fence. they may have said to themselves: "we don't like it, being shut up in there, but maybe we'll have to go back in, for we don't like being shouted at, and we don't like the bang-bang noises like thunder." but, even when some of the ponies had run back as far as the corral gate they did not go in. once again they turned around and would have galloped across the prairie again. but uncle frank shouted: "get after them, boys! drive those few in and the rest will follow after like sheep! get after them!" so the cowboys rode up on their own swift ponies, that seemed to be having a good time, and then the other ponies nearest the corral gate were turned in through it. then as the rest were driven up they did as the first ones had done and galloped back where they had been before trouble let them out. one after another the ponies ran back into the corral until every one was there. then uncle frank closed the gate, and this time he locked it so that no one could open it without the key. but no one would try, not even trouble, for, crying and sobbing to be allowed to go out and play, he had been given a lesson that he would not soon forget. "i'm sorry i had to punish him," said mother martin to the curlytops, when they came in after the ponies were once more in the corral, "but i just had to. work on a ranch is hard enough without little boys letting the horses run wild after they have once been caught." "oh, well, no great harm was done," said uncle frank with a good-natured laugh, "though it did make us ride pretty hard for a while. come on, trouble, i'll take you ponyback!" this was what trouble liked, and he soon dried his tears and sat on the saddle in front of uncle frank as happy as could be. janet and ted got out their ponies, and rode with uncle frank and trouble around the outside of the corral, looking at the little horses inside the fence. they were quieter now, and were eating some oats the cowboys had put out for them. two or three days after this, when the ponies had been driven away to the railroad station to be shipped to a far-off state, a cowboy came riding in with news that he had seen a band of two or three indians pass along the prairie near the rocks where teddy and janet had found clipclap. "if we ride after them," said the cowboy, "maybe we can find where the other indians are, and where they have hidden your horses and cattle, mr. barton." "that's it!" exclaimed uncle frank. "we'll get on the trail after these indians. i'm sure they must have some of my animals hidden away in the hills, for i would have heard of it if they had sold them around here. we'll get on the trail!" "what's the trail, daddy?" asked teddy of his father. "oh, it means the marks the indians' ponies may have left in the soft ground," said mr. martin. "uncle frank and his cowboys will try to trail, or follow, the marks of the horses' feet, and see where the indians have gone." "can't i come?" asked teddy. "i can ride good now!" "oh, no indeed you can't go!" cried mother martin. "are you going?" she asked her husband. "yes," he answered. "i think i'll go on the trail with uncle frank." chapter xvii the curlytops alone teddy and janet sat on a bench outside the cowboys' bunkhouse, as their father, uncle frank and a number of the ranchmen rode away over the prairies on the trail of the indians. the curlytops did not seem very happy. "don't you wish _we_ could go, jan?" asked teddy, after he and his sister had sat in silence for some time. "i just guess i _do_!" she exclaimed. "i can ride good, too. almost as good as you, ted, and i don't see why we couldn't go!" "yes, you ride nice, jan," said her brother. "but i thought you were afraid of indians." "i used to be, but i'm not any more. anyway, if you'd stay with me i wouldn't be. and, anyhow, uncle frank says the indians won't hurt us." "course they won't! i'm not afraid! i'd go on the trail after 'em if they'd let us." "so would i. we could throw stones at 'em if they tried to hurt us, teddy." "yes. or we could ride our ponies fast and get away. uncle frank told me the indians didn't have any good ponies, and that's why they took his." "but we can't go," said janet with a sigh. "no; we've got to stay at home." a little later a cowboy came limping out of the bunkhouse. his name was sim body, but all his friends called him "baldy" because he had so little hair on his head. "hello, curlytops!" cried baldy in a jolly voice, for he was always good-natured. even now he was jolly, though he had a lame foot where a horse had stepped on it. that is why he was not on the trail after the indians with the other cowboys. "hello," answered teddy, but he did not speak in a jolly voice. "why, what's the matter?" asked baldy with a laugh, as he limped to the bench and sat down near the two children. "you act as sad and gloomy as if there wasn't a christmas or a new year's any more, to say nothing of fourth of july and birthdays! what's the matter? seems to me, if i had all the nice, curly hair you two have, i'd be as happy as a horned toad and i'd go around singing all day long," and baldy rubbed his hand over his own smooth head and laughed. "i don't like my hair," grumbled teddy. "it's always getting snarled and the comb gets stuck in it." "and it does in mine, too," added janet. "and mother pulls when she tries to untangle it. mine's longer than ted's." "yes, and nicer, for that reason," went on baldy. "though i'd be glad if i had even half of yours, teddy. but never mind about that. i won't take your hair, though i'd like to know what makes you both so gloomy-like. can't you smile?" ted and janet could not help laughing at baldy, he seemed so funny. he was a good friend of theirs. "we can't go on the trail after indians," said janet. "we want to go, but we've got to stay here." "and we can ride our ponies good, too," went on teddy. "uncle frank said we could." "yes, you're getting to be pretty good riders," admitted baldy. "but that isn't saying you're big enough to go on a trail after indians. of course these indians may not be very bad, and maybe they aren't the ones that took our horses. but riding on a trail takes a long while, and maybe the boys will be out all night in the open. you wouldn't like that." "we went camping with our grandpa once," declared teddy. "and we slept in a tent," added his sister. "and we saw a funny blue light and we thought it was a ghost but it wasn't," continued teddy. "hum! a ghost, eh?" laughed baldy. "well, i've never been on a trail after one of _them_, but i've trailed indians--and helped catch 'em, too." "how do you do it?" asked teddy eagerly. "well, you just keep on riding--following the trail you know--until you catch up to those you're after. sometimes you can't see any marks on the ground and you have to guess at it." "and do the indians ride on ahead and try to get away?" asked janet. "indeed they do. when they know we're after 'em they ride as fast as they can. that is, if they've done wrong, like taking horses or cattle that aren't theirs. we just keep chasing 'em until we get close enough to arrest 'em." "it's like a game of tag, isn't it?" asked janet. "well, yes, you could call it sort of like that," admitted baldy, with another laugh. "but it's a kind of game of tag that little boys and girls can't very well play." "not even when they have ponies?" asked teddy. "well, of course, having a pony makes it easier to keep on the trail. you couldn't go very far walking over the prairies--at least none of us do. we all ride. but i'll tell you some stories about cowboys and indians and that will amuse you for a while. like to hear 'em?" "oh, yes!" cried teddy. "very much, thank you," added janet, a little more politely but still just as eagerly as her brother. so baldy, sitting on the bench in front of the bunkhouse and resting his lame foot on a saddle on the ground, told the curlytops stories of his cowboy life--of sleeping out on the prairies keeping watch over the cattle, of indians or other bad men who would come and try to steal them, and how he and his friends had to give chase to get the steers or ponies back. "did you ever get captured by the indians?" asked teddy. "well, yes, once i was," answered the cowboy. "oh, tell us about it!" begged the little curlytop chap. "i love to hear stories about indians! don't you, jan?" "i like stories--yes," said the little girl. "but if you're going to tell a story about indians, mr. baldy, maybe it'll be a scary one, and i don't like scary stories." "i do!" exclaimed ted. "the scarier they are the better i like 'em!" baldy laughed as he said: "well, i guess, seeing as how the little lady doesn't like scary stories, i'd better tell one that isn't. we must please the ladies, you know, teddy." "oh, yes, i know that," the little boy said. "but after you tell the not-scary story, mr. baldy, couldn't you tell me one that is scary--a real, terrible scary one. you can take me out behind the barn where jan can't hear it." "well, maybe i could do that," agreed the good-natured cowboy, laughing at the curlytops. "now then for the not-scary story." "and you don't have to take teddy out behind the barn to tell him the scary one," put in janet. "you could stay here, and i could cover up my ears with my hands when you came to the terrible parts, couldn't i? is there any parts in it that isn't scary? i'd like to hear _them_, mr. baldy." "well, i guess we can fix it that way," said the cowboy. "now the first story i'm going to tell you, is how i was captured by the indians," and the children sat closer to him and waited eagerly. "once upon a time," said baldy, "a lot of indians lived not far from the house where i lived." "weren't you afraid?" asked janet. "please don't ask questions till he tells the story," begged teddy. "all right," agreed his sister, and baldy went on: "no, i wasn't much afraid, or if i was i've forgotten it now, as it was quite a while ago. anyhow, one day i was out on the prairie, picking flowers, i think, for i know i used to like flowers, and, all of a sudden, along came a lot of indians on horses, and one of them picked me up and took me right away with him, on the horse in front of him. "the horse was a strong one, and could easily carry both of us, and though i wiggled around a good bit and yelled, the indian didn't let go of me. on and on he rode, carrying me off, and the other indians rode ahead of us, and on either side. i couldn't get away, no matter how i tried. "after a while the indians, who had been out hunting, came to where their tents were. this was their camp, and then i was lifted down off the horse and given to a squaw." teddy simply had to ask some questions now. "a squaw is a indian lady, isn't she?" "yes," answered baldy, "that's what she is." "well, i shouldn't think she'd want to take you," went on the little boy. "i thought the indian men always kept the prisoners, and you were a prisoner, weren't you?" "yes," answered baldy, and there was a queer smile on his face, "but i guess i forgot to tell you that the time i was captured by the indians i was a little boy, not as big as you, curlytop. and the reason they picked me up off the prairie was that i had wandered away from my home and was lost. so the nice squaw kept me until one of the indian men had time to take me home." "then didn't the indians hurt you?" asked janet. "not a bit. they were very good to me," the cowboy said. "some of them knew my father and mother. that's the only time i was ever captured by the indians, and i'm afraid it wasn't very much of a story." "oh, it was _very_ nice," said teddy politely. "and not a bit scary, except a little teeny bit at first," added janet. "can you tell us another, mr. baldy?" "well, i guess i can," said the good-natured cowboy. so he told other tales of what had happened to him on the prairies, for he had lived in the west all his life, and knew much about it. teddy and janet were very glad to hear these stories, but listening to them made ted, at least, wish all the more that he could have gone with his father and his uncle frank on the trail after the indians. then baldy was called away by another cowboy, who wanted to ask him something about a sick horse, and teddy and janet were called by their mother to take care of trouble for a while. it was still morning, the cowboys having ridden away before dinner. they had taken with them enough to eat, even if they had to stay out all night. "i wants a wide!" announced trouble, when his brother and sister came in to get him. "could we give him a little ride on our ponies?" asked teddy of his mother. "yes, i think so. but don't go far away from the stable. are any of the cowboys out there to help you saddle?" saddling, which meant buckling the leather seat tightly around the pony, was something teddy and janet could not yet do very well for themselves. it takes strong fingers to tighten the straps. "yes, baldy is out there," janet said. "how often have i told you not to call the men by their nicknames?" asked mother martin with a smile. "it isn't nice for children to do that." "but, please, mother, we don't know his other name very well," said teddy. "everybody calls him baldy." "yes, that's right," agreed aunt millie. "i do myself. i guess he doesn't mind." "very well, if he'll saddle your ponies for you, take trouble for a little ride," agreed mrs. martin. "but be careful." the curlytops said they would, and they were soon taking turns riding trouble on the saddles in front of them. clipclap and star face liked the children and were well-behaved ponies, so there was no danger in putting trouble on the back of either as long as ted or janet held him. "but don't go riding off with him on the trail after the indians," said baldy, playfully shaking his finger at the curlytops. "we won't!" they promised. up and down on the paths among the ranch buildings rode the children. trouble was allowed to hold the ends of the reins, and he thought he was guiding the ponies, but really teddy and janet did that. but finally even such fun as riding ponyback tired trouble. he wanted something else to do, and said: "le's go an' s'ide downhill on hay in de barn." teddy and janet knew what that meant. they had learned this kind of fun at grandpa martin's cherry farm. here, on ring rosy ranch, there was a large barn filled with hay, and there was plenty of room to slide down in the mow, or place where the hay was put away. "come on!" cried janet. "we'll give him a good slide, teddy." a little later the curlytops and baby william were laughing and shouting in the barn, rolling down and tumbling over one another, but not getting hurt, for the hay was too soft. pretty soon the dinner horn blew and, with good appetites from their morning's fun, the children hurried in to get something to eat. "this is a good dinner!" announced teddy as he passed his plate a second time. "yes," agreed mother martin. "i hope your father and the cowboys have as good." "oh, they'll have plenty--never fear!" laughed uncle frank's wife. "they never go hungry when they're on the trail." after dinner trouble went to sleep, as he generally did, and teddy and janet were left to themselves to find amusement. "let's go for another ride," suggested teddy. "all right," agreed janet. the saddles had not been taken off their ponies. their mother and aunt millie saw them go out and, supposing they were only going to ride around the barn and ranch buildings, as they had done before, said nothing to them. but ted was no sooner in the saddle than he turned to his sister and said: "jan, why can't we go riding the trail after the indians?" "what! we two alone?" "yes. we know the way over to the rocks where we found clipclap in the cave, and from there we can ride farther on, just like daddy and uncle frank. come on!" janet thought for a minute. she wanted to go as much as did teddy. it did not seem very wrong. "well, we'll ride a little way," she said. "but we've got to come back before dark." "all right," agreed teddy. "we will!" and the curlytops rode away over the prairie. chapter xviii lost clipclap and star face, the two sturdy little ponies, trotted bravely along, carrying teddy and janet on their backs. the ponies did not wonder where they were going--they hardly ever did that. they were satisfied to go wherever their master or mistress guided them, for they knew the children would be good to them. "do you s'pose we'll find any indians?" asked janet after a while. "maybe," answered teddy. "are you scared?" "no," replied his sister slowly. "i was just thinking maybe we could find 'em, and get back uncle frank's horses, even if the cowboys didn't." "maybe we could!" cried teddy. "that would be _great_! wouldn't daddy be surprised!" "and uncle frank, too!" added janet. "yes, and the cowboys! then they'd think we could ride all right!" went on ted. "come on, let's hurry! gid-dap!" he called to clipclap. "where are we going first?" asked janet. "to the rocks, where we found my pony in the cave," answered her brother, as he patted the little animal on the neck. "the cowboy said he saw the indians near there." "maybe they're hiding in the cave," suggested janet. "no, they wouldn't do that," teddy decided, after thinking it over awhile. "they'd be afraid to stay so near uncle frank's ranch. anyhow the cave isn't big enough." "it was big enough for clipclap." "yes, but he's a little pony. anyhow, we'll look in the cave and then we'll ride on along the trail until we catch up to daddy and uncle frank." "what'll they say?" "i guess they'll be s'prised." "maybe they'll make us go back." "well, if they do we'll have some fun, anyhow," said teddy, laughing. "gid-dap, clipclap." "it's a good thing we've two ponies instead of one goat," remarked janet, after they had ridden on a little farther. "course it is," agreed ted. "we couldn't both ride nicknack, though he could pull us both in the wagon." "maybe he'd be afraid of indians," suggested janet. "no, i don't guess he would," answered teddy, after some reflection. "nicknack's a brave goat. i like him. but i like clipclap, too." "and i like star face," added janet. "he's an awful nice pony." on and on the ponies trotted, carrying the curlytops farther and farther from the ring rosy ranch house. but the children were not afraid. the sun was shining brightly, and they had often before ridden this far alone. they could look back at the ranch buildings when they got on top of the little hills with which the prairie was dotted, and they were not lonesome. off on either side they could see groups of horses or cattle that belonged to uncle frank, and ted and janet thought there must be cowboys with the herds. "i'm going to get a drink when we get to the rocks," said janet, as they came within sight of the pile of big stones. "yes. and we'll give the ponies some, too," agreed her brother. "i guess they're thirsty." indeed the little animals were thirsty, and after they had rested a while--for uncle frank had told the children it was not wise to let a horse or pony drink when it was too warm--clipclap and star face had some of the cool water that bubbled up among the rocks. "it tastes awful good!" exclaimed janet, as she took some from the cup ted filled for her. after clipclap had been found at the spring, the time he was hidden in the cave, one of the cowboys had brought a tin cup to the spring, leaving it there, so if anyone passed the spring it would be easy to get a drink without having to use a hat or kneel down on the ground. for horses and cattle there was a little rocky basin into which the cool water flowed. "i wish we could take some of the water with us," said teddy, when, after a rest, they were ready to follow the trail again. "if we had a bottle, like some of the cowboys carry, we could," remarked janet. "maybe we'll get awful thirsty if we ride on a long way, ted." "maybe we will, but maybe we can find another spring. i heard uncle frank say there's more than one on the ranch. come on!" the children took another drink, and offered some to the ponies, each of which took a little. then, once more, the curlytops were on the trail after the indians, as they believed. "which way do we go now?" asked janet, as she watched teddy get up in his saddle after he had helped her mount star face. "we've got to follow the trail," teddy answered. "how do we do it?" his sister inquired. "well, i asked baldy and he said just look on the ground for tracks in the dirt. you know the kind of marks a horse's foot makes, don't you, jan?" "yes, and i see some down here," and she pointed to the ground. "that's them!" exclaimed teddy. "we've got to follow the marks! that's the trail!" "is this the indians' trail?" asked the little girl, and she looked over her shoulder, perhaps to make sure no one was following her and her brother. "i don't know if it's the indians' trail, or, maybe, the marks left by uncle frank and daddy," said teddy. "anyhow we've got to follow the trail. that's what baldy said." "he doesn't know we came off alone, does he?" asked janet. "no. i guess he wouldn't have let us if he did. but we won't have to go very far, and then we'll catch up to the rest. then they'll have to take us with 'em." "yes," said janet, and she rode along beside her brother. neither of the curlytops stopped to think that their father, uncle frank and the cowboys had started off early that morning, and must have ridden on many miles ahead. the cowboys' horses, too, could go faster than the ponies star face and clipclap, for the larger horses had longer legs. all teddy and janet thought of was hurrying along as fast as they could go, in order to catch up to the indian hunters. what would happen after that they did not know. all at once, as the curlytops were riding along, they heard what they thought was a whistle. "some one is calling us," said janet, turning to look back. "did you hear that, ted?" "yes, i heard a whistle. maybe it's uncle frank, or some of the cowboys." the children looked across the prairie but could see no one. they were about to go on again when the whistle sounded once more. "that _is_ some one calling us," declared jan. "let's see if we can't find who it is, teddy." so the children looked around again, but no one was in sight, and, what was still stranger, the whistling sound kept up. "it's some one playing a joke on us, and hiding after they whistle," said janet. "maybe one of the cowboys from the ranch." "maybe an indian," said ted, and then he was sorry he had said that, for his sister looked frightened. "oh!" said janet, "if it's an indian----" "i don't guess it is," teddy hastened to say. "i guess indians don't whistle, anyhow." this made janet feel better and once more she and her brother looked around to see what made the queer whistling sound, that still kept up. it was just like a boy calling to another, and teddy was quite puzzled over it until he suddenly saw what was doing it. perched on a small mound of earth near a hole in the ground, was a little animal, about as big as a large rat, though, as janet said, he was "nicer looking." and as ted and his sister looked, they saw this little animal move, and then they knew he it was that was whistling. "oh, what is it?" cried janet. "i know," teddy answered. "that's a prairie dog. baldy told me about them, and how they whistled when they saw any danger." "is there any danger here?" asked janet, looking around. "i guess the prairie dog thinks we're the danger," said teddy. "but we wouldn't hurt him." "does he live down in that hole?" asked janet. "yes, just like a gopher," answered her brother, who had listened to the cowboys telling about the little prairie dogs. "and sometimes there are snakes or an owl in the same hole with the prairie dog." "then i'm not going any nearer," decided janet. "i don't mind an owl, but i don't like snakes! come on, ted, let's hurry." as they started off, the prairie dog, which really did make a whistling sound, suddenly darted down inside his burrow or hole. perhaps he thought teddy and janet were coming to carry him off, but they were not. the children saw many more of the little animals as they rode over the prairies. "but we must look for marks--tracks, baldy calls them," said teddy. "tracks will tell us which way the indians went," and so the children kept their eyes turned toward the sod as they rode along. for a while they could see many marks in the soft ground--the marks of horses' feet, some shod with iron shoes and others bare, for on the prairie grass there is not the same need of iron shoes on the hoofs of horses as in the city, with its hard, paved streets. then the marks were not so plain; and pretty soon, about a mile from the spring amid the rocks where the ground was quite hard, teddy and janet could see no marks at all. "which way do we go?" asked ted's sister, as he called to his pony to stop. "do you know the way?" "no, i don't guess i do," he answered. "but anyhow we can ride along and maybe we'll see 'em." "yes, we can do that," janet said. it was still early in the afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly. they knew they were still on uncle frank's ranch, and, though they could not see the buildings any more, they could see the place where they had had a drink at the spring. "all we've got to do, if we want to come back," observed teddy, "is ride to the rocks and then we know the way home from there." "yes, that's easy," janet said. so they rode on and on. of course the curlytops ought not to have done what they did, but they did not think, any more than trouble thought when he opened the corral gate and let out the ponies. but the sun did not stay high in the sky all the afternoon. presently the bright ball of fire began to go down in the west, and the shadows of teddy and janet grew long on the prairie. they knew what those long shadows meant--that it was getting late afternoon. after a while janet turned in her saddle and looked back. "oh, teddy!" she cried. "i can't see the spring rocks," for that is what the children had called the place where they had found clipclap. "they're back there just the same." "i know. but if we can't see 'em we won't know how to ride back to them," went on janet. "how are we going to find our way back home, ted?" "oh, i can get to the rocks when i want to," he said. "come on, we'll ride a little bit farther and then, if we can't find daddy and uncle frank, we'll go back." "well, don't go much farther," said janet, and teddy said he would not. there were many hills and hollows now, much higher and deeper ones than those near the ranch buildings. even from the top of one of the high hills up which the ponies slowly climbed, the curlytops could not see the spring rocks. "oh, ted!" exclaimed jan, "i'm afraid! i want to go back! it's going to be night pretty soon!" "it won't be night for a good while," he said, "but i guess maybe we'd better go back. i can't see daddy, uncle frank or the cowboys." he raised himself in the stirrups and looked across the prairies, shading his eyes with his hand the way he had seen some of the cowboys do. nothing was in sight. "come on, jan, we'll go back," he said. clipclap and star face were turned around. once more off trotted the little ponies with the curlytops on their backs. the shadows grew longer. it was not so bright and nice on the prairies now. janet kept close to teddy. at last she asked: "do you see the rocks?" "not yet," her brother answered. "but we'll soon be there." they did not reach them, however. on and on they rode. the sun went down behind a bank of clouds. "oh, dear!" sighed janet, "i don't like this," and her voice sounded as if she were going to cry. "we'll soon be back at the rocks, and then i know the way home," said teddy, as bravely as he could. but they did not reach the rocks. up the hollows and across the hills they rode, over the broad prairies, but no rocks did they see. at last the ponies began to go more slowly, for they were tired. it grew darker. ted looked anxiously about. janet spoke softly to him. "teddy," she asked, "are we--are we--lost?" for a moment teddy did not answer. then he replied slowly: "yes--i guess we are lost, janet!" chapter xix the hidden valley the curlytops were in trouble. it was not the first time they had been lost, no indeed! but it was the first time they could remember being lost so far away from home, and in such a big place as a western prairie. they did not know what to do. "don't you know the way home?" asked janet, still keeping close to her brother. it was getting dark, and, somehow, she felt safer near him, even if he was only a year older than she was. "i'd know the way home back to the ranch house if we could find the rocks with the cave where clipclap was," teddy replied. "let's look for them some more," suggested janet. "if we don't get home pretty soon we'll be all in the dark and--and we'll have to stay out here all alone." "are you afraid?" asked ted, looking at his sister. "yes. won't you be?" "pooh! no!" he exclaimed, and he talked loudly, perhaps just so he would not be afraid. you know a boy always whistles very loudly at night when he is walking along a dark place alone. and if there are two boys they both whistle. what girls do when they walk through a dark place alone i do not know. maybe they sing. anyhow teddy talked very loud, and when janet heard him say he was not afraid she felt better. "but will we have to stay out here all night?" she asked. "i guess so," teddy answered. "but it'll be just like camping out. daddy and uncle frank and the cowboys are going to stay out." "yes, but they've got something to eat," objected janet, "and we haven't anything. not even a cookie--lessen you've got one in your pocket, teddy." "no, jan," answered her brother, after a quick search, "i haven't. i forgot to bring any." "so did i," went on janet. "i don't think i like to stay out here alone all night if we haven't anything to eat." "no, it won't be much fun," agreed teddy. "i guess maybe i can find those rocks, janet, and then we'll know how to get home. come on." he turned his pony's head and the tired little animal walked slowly on and janet's star face followed. but the truth of the matter was, ted did not know in which direction to guide his little horse. he could not remember where the rocks lay. but janet was trusting to him, and he felt he must do his best. so he kept on until it grew a little darker, and his pony was walking so slowly that trouble would have found it easy to have walked almost as fast. "what's the matter?" asked janet, who was riding behind her brother, looking as hard as she could through the darkness for a sight of the rocks, which, once they were reached, almost meant home. "what's the matter, ted?" "matter with what, jan?" "what makes the ponies go so slow?" "'cause they're tired, i guess." "can't you find the rocks and let them rest and get a drink? i'm awful thirsty, teddy!" "so'm i, jan. we'll go on a little more and maybe we'll find the rocks. don't cry!" "pooh! who's goin' to cry?" demanded janet quickly. "i--i thought maybe you were," teddy answered. "i am not!" and janet was very positive about it. "but i'm tired and hungry, and i want a drink awful bad." "so do i," added teddy. "we'll go on a little more." so, wearily, the ponies walked on carrying the curlytops. ted kept looking ahead, and to the left and right, trying to find the rocks. but, had he only known it (which he did later) he was going away from them all the while instead of toward them. all at once clipclap stumbled and nearly fell. "whoa there! look out!" cried teddy, reining up the head of his animal as he had seen uncle frank do. "don't fall, clipclap!" "what's the matter?" asked janet. "did he step in a hole?" "i don't know. i guess he's just tired," and teddy's voice was sad. for he was very weary and much frightened, though he did not tell janet so. "well, let's stop and rest," said his sister. "do you think you can find those rocks, ted?" "no, i don't guess i can. i guess we're lost, janet." "oh, dear!" she answered. "now don't cry!" warned teddy. "i--i'm not!" exclaimed his sister. "i--i was just blowing my nose, so there, the-o-dore mar-tin!" teddy grinned in the darkness, tired as he was. he was glad janet was a little angry with him. that meant she would not cry, and if his sister started to weep ted did not know what he would do. he might even cry himself. he was not too big for that. "let's stop and give the ponies a rest," suggested janet. "all right," agreed teddy. "and maybe they can hunt around and find water. one of the cowboys told me his pony did that once when he didn't know where to get a drink himself." "i wish star face could find water," went on janet. "i'd drink some of it, too." "so would i--if it was clean," said teddy. wearily the two curlytops slipped from their saddles. the ponies seemed glad of this, and at once began to eat the grass that grew all about. teddy and janet looked at them awhile. it was not so dark but what they could see things close to them, and the stars were twinkling brightly overhead. "they don't seem very thirsty," said janet. "maybe they'll start to go after water when they've had their supper," suggested her brother, with a sigh, which, however, janet did not hear. "we've got to wait--that's all." the curlytops sat down on the ground and waited, while the ponies with the reins over their heads--which was a sign that they must not go far away--cropped the sweet grass. "i wish _we_ could eat grass," said janet, after a bit. "why?" "then we could eat it like the ponies do and not be hungry." "it would be a good thing," teddy agreed. "but we can't. i chewed some sour grass once, but i didn't swallow it." "i ate some watercress once at home," said janet. "but i didn't like it. anyhow i don't guess watercress grows around here." "no," agreed teddy. then they sat and watched the ponies eating in the darkness. clipclap was wandering farther off than teddy liked and he jumped up and hurried after his animal. as he caught him teddy saw something on the ground a little way off. it was something round and black, and, now that the moon had come up, he could see more plainly. "what's the matter, teddy?" janet called to him, as she saw him standing motionless, after he had taken hold of clipclap's bridle. "what are you looking at?" "i don't know what it is," teddy answered. "maybe it's a prairie dog, but he's keepin' awful still. come and look, janet." "oh, i don't want to!" she exclaimed. "oh, come on!" urged teddy. "it isn't moving. maybe you can tell what it is." janet, making sure that star face was all right, walked over to her brother. she, too, saw the dark object lying on a bare spot in the prairie. it did not move. the moonlight became stronger and janet, becoming brave all of a sudden, went closer. "it's nothing but a bundle, teddy martin!" she exclaimed. "somebody has dropped a bundle." "they have?" teddy cried. "then if somebody's been past here they can find us--or we can find them--and we aren't lost anymore!" "oh, i hope it comes true!" sighed janet. "here, you hold clipclap--he's starting to walk away"--went on teddy, "and i'll go see what that is." janet took the pony's reins, and her brother walked toward the bundle. he could see now that it was something wrapped in a blanket, and as he came closer he saw that the blanket was one of the kind the cowboys at uncle frank's ranch carried when they went out to spend the night on the prairie. "what is it?" asked janet, as her brother picked up the bundle and came back toward her. "i don't know, but it's heavy," he answered. "we'll open it." "maybe we'd better not," cautioned janet. "it isn't ours." "but we're lost," teddy said, "and we want to be found. maybe there's something in this bundle to help." the blanket was fastened with a strap on the outside, and teddy managed to unbuckle this after two or three trials, janet helping. then, as the moon shone down on what was in the blanket, the curlytops gave a cry of delight, which startled even the ponies. "it's something to eat!" cried teddy. "and to drink!" added janet, as she picked up the canvas-covered canteen, or water bottle, such as soldiers carry. by shaking it she knew it was full of water. "say, this is good luck!" cried teddy. stopping no longer to wonder who had dropped the bundle, the curlytops took a drink from the canteen. they had not been used to drinking out of a bottle since they were babies, and some of the water ran down their necks. but they did not mind this. and, even though the water was rather warm, they felt much better after having had a drink. "i wish we could give the ponies some," said janet. "but there isn't very much, and they would drink this all up and not know they'd had any." "anyhow i guess they're not thirsty, or they'd try to find water just as the cowboys said they would," added teddy. "they can chew the grass." he and janet looked into the bundle again, and found a number of sandwiches, together with some uncooked bacon, a little ground coffee, a small coffee-pot and a tin cup. "oh, goody! we can eat the sandwiches," janet said. "and in the morning, when we find a spring, we can make coffee," added teddy. "i know how, 'cause grandpa showed me when we were camping on star island. i haven't any matches to make a fire, but maybe i can find some." "will we have to stay here all night?" asked janet anxiously. "i spect so," her brother answered. "i don't know the way back to the ranch house. we can't even find the rocks. we'll stay here all night. it isn't cold, and now we have a blanket we can wrap up in it like the cowboys do. and we've something to eat and drink." "but mother and daddy will be awful worried," said janet. "well, they'll maybe come and find us," answered teddy. "look out!" he cried. "clipclap's going off again!" indeed the little pony seemed to want to walk away, and so did star face. "maybe they know where to go to find water," suggested janet. "maybe," agreed ted. "let's let 'em go, and we'll go with 'em. that water in the canteen won't be enough till morning." the children ate nearly all of the sandwiches, and put away the rest of the food in the blanket which teddy strapped around it. then they mounted their ponies, ted taking the bundle with him, and let the animals wander which way they would. "they'll go to water if they're thirsty enough," teddy said. "who do you s'pose dropped that bundle?" asked janet. "a cowboy," her brother answered. "one from ring rosy ranch?" "maybe." "oh, i hope he did, and that he's around here somewhere," went on janet. "i'm tired of being lost!" "we've only just begun," teddy said. but, truth to tell, he wished very much that they were both safe back at the ranch house with their mother. on and on over the moonlit prairies went star face and clipclap. they seemed to know where they were going and did not stop. ted and janet were too tired to guide them. they were both getting sleepy. pretty soon janet saw ahead of her something glistening in the stretch of the prairie. the moonlight seemed to sparkle on it. "oh, look, ted!" she cried, pointing. "it's water--a little river!" he exclaimed. "the ponies have led us to water!" and so the animals had. teddy and janet slipped from their ponies' backs at the edge of the stream and then star face and clipclap took long drinks. ted emptied the canteen, filled it with the cooler water, and he and janet drank again. then they felt much better. the ponies again began to crop the grass. the curlytops, very tired and sleepy, felt that it would be all right to make their bed in the blanket they had found, dropped by some passing cowboy. but first ted looked around. off to one side, and along the stream from which they had drunk, he saw something dark looming up. "look, janet," he said. "maybe that's a ranch house over there, and we could go in for the night." "maybe," she agreed. "let's go to it." once more they mounted their ponies. the animals did not seem so tired now, but trotted on over the prairie. they drew nearer to the dark blotch teddy had noticed. then, as the moon came out from behind some clouds, the curlytops saw that they were at the entrance to a hidden valley--a little valley tucked away among the hills, which they would never have seen had they not come to the stream to drink. the little river ran through the valley, and in the moonlight the children could see that a fence had been made at the end nearest them. it was a wooden fence, and not one of barbed wire, such as there were many of on ring rosy ranch. "this is a queer valley," said janet. "yes, and look!" exclaimed ted, pointing. "don't you see things moving around in it?" "yes," agreed jan, as she looked. "why, ted!" she cried. "they're horses--ponies--a lot of 'em!" "so they are!" exclaimed ted. "oh, we're near a ranch, janet! now we're all right!" "yes. but maybe we're a good way from the ranch house," answered janet. "we maybe can't find it in the dark. some of uncle frank's ponies are five miles away from the stable, you know. maybe we'd better not go on any more in the dark. i'm tired!" "well," agreed teddy. "i guess we could stay here till it's morning. we could sleep in the blanket. it's plenty big enough for us two." "and in the morning we can ride on and find the ranch, and the cowboys there will take us to ring rosy," added janet. "let's do it, teddy." they looked again at the strange valley in which the horses were moving about. clipclap whinnied and one of the other ponies answered. but they could not come out because of the fence, part of which was built in and across the little river. then, throwing the reins over the heads of their ponies, and knowing the animals would not stray far, ted and janet, taking another drink from the canteen, rolled up in the blanket and went to sleep on the prairie just outside the hidden valley that held a secret of which they did not even dream. chapter xx back to ring rosy "i hope the curlytops won't ride too far," said mrs. martin, coming out into the kitchen to help with the work. she had just got trouble to sleep after teddy and janet had brought him in from the haymow before riding off on their ponies. "oh, i guess they won't," aunt millie answered. but, could mrs. martin and aunt millie have seen them, they would have been much surprised to know where the curlytops then were. as you know, they were riding along the trail after the indians. the hours went on until it was late afternoon. and then, when the children did not come back, mrs. martin began to be alarmed. she went to the top of a low hill not far away from the ranch house and looked across the prairie. "i can't see them," she said, when she came back. "oh, don't worry," returned aunt millie. "they'll be along pretty soon. and, anyhow, there is no danger." "but--the indians?" questioned mrs. martin. "oh, they are far enough off by this time," said the ranch owner's wife. "they won't bother the curlytops." but mother martin did worry, and when supper time came near and janet and teddy were not yet back, aunt millie, too, began to think it strange. "what do you suppose could happen?" asked mrs. martin. "i wish dick were here." "oh, lots of little things might happen," said aunt millie. "the children may have ridden farther than they meant to. it's such a nice day for riding you couldn't blame them for going. or one of their ponies may have gone lame and have to walk slowly. that would make them get here late." "suppose they should be hurt?" asked mother martin, anxiously. "oh, i don't suppose anything of the sort!" and aunt millie laughed. but mother martin did not feel like laughing. at last, however, when it began to get dark and the children had not come, even the cowboys left at the ranch--those who had not ridden on the trail after the indians--said it was time something was done. "we'll go out and find 'em," said baldy. "the little tykes have got lost; that's about all. we'll find 'em and bring 'em home!" "oh, i hope you can!" exclaimed mrs. martin. "sure we will!" cried baldy. "won't we, boys?" "that's what we will!" cried the cowboys. the men started out over the prairie right after supper, carrying lanterns, not so much that they needed the lights as that they might be seen by the lost children. "hello, curlytops! where are you?" called the cowboys. but no one answered them. teddy and janet were far away. the cowboys rode as far as the pile of rocks where the spring bubbled up. there baldy, swinging his lantern to and fro, said he thought he could see the marks of the feet of star face and clipclap among those of other ponies, but he was not sure. "we'll have to come back here and start out early in the morning when we can see better," he said. "and what are we going to do all night?" asked another cowboy. "well, we'll keep on hunting, of course. but i don't believe we'll find the lost curlytops." one of the men rode back to the ranch to tell mrs. martin that so far, no trace of the missing children had been found. she could not keep back her tears, but she tried to be brave. "oh, where can they be?" she asked. "they'll be all right," the cowboy said. "it's a nice warm night, and they're brave children. even if they had to sleep out it would not hurt 'em. they could take the blankets that are under the ponies' saddles and wrap up in them. they'll be all right." though they were lost, the curlytops were, at that moment, much better off than the cowboy thought. for they had found the big blanket and the bundle of food, and they were sleeping soundly on the prairie. at first they had been a little afraid to lie down all alone out in the night, but their ponies were with them, and janet said it felt as though clipclap and star face were like good watch dogs. then, being very tired and having had something to eat and drink, they fell asleep. all night long, though, the cowboys rode over the prairie looking for the lost ones. they shouted and called, but the curlytops were too far away to hear or to answer, even if they had been awake. "well, now we can make a better hunt," said baldy, when he saw the sun beginning to rise. "well get something to eat and start out from the spring in the rocks. i'm almost sure the curlytops were there." mrs. martin had not slept all night, and when the cowboys came back to breakfast she said she was going to ride with them to search for her children. "yes, i think it would do you good," said aunt millie. mrs. martin had learned how to ride when a girl, and she had practised some since coming to ring rosy ranch. so she did not feel strange in the saddle. with baldy and the other cowboys she set off. they went to the spring amid the rocks and there began the search. over the prairie the riders spread out like a big fan, looking everywhere for the lost ones. and when they were not found in about an hour baldy said: "well, there's just a chance that their ponies took them to silver creek." "where's that?" asked mrs. martin. "it's a stream of water quite a way off," baldy answered. "it isn't on our ranch, and we don't very often go there. but if the curlytops' ponies were thirsty in the night they might go to silver creek, even if jan and ted didn't want them to. i think the ponies went the nearest way to water." "then let us go that way!" cried mrs. martin. meanwhile teddy and janet had awakened. they could look right into the strange valley through which flowed silver creek, though they did not then know its name. "and look what a lot of horses!" cried janet. "and cows!" added her brother. "i wonder whose they are?" "oh, i guess they live on some ranch," janet said. "now if we can find the ranch house we'll be all right." "we'll look for it," suggested teddy. "but first we've got to have breakfast. if i had a match i could make a fire and boil some coffee." "let's not bother with breakfast," suggested janet. "i'm not very hungry. and if we find the ranch house we can get something to eat there. come on, teddy." they got a drink at the stream, and then, rolling up what food was left in the blanket, they got on their ponies and rode away, going around the valley instead of into it, for teddy saw that hills closed it at the far end. "there's no ranch house in that valley," he said. the curlytops had not ridden far before janet, who had gone a little ahead of teddy, cried: "oh, look! here come some cowboys!" "i guess they belong to this ranch--the one where we saw the ponies and cows," replied teddy, as he saw a number of horsemen riding toward them. the horsemen began to whoop and shout, and their horses ran very fast toward the curlytops. "there's a lady with 'em," remarked janet. "they seem awful glad to meet us," went on teddy. "look, they're wavin' their hats." and so the cowboys were. when the riders came a little nearer teddy and janet rubbed their eyes in surprise. "why--why!" teddy exclaimed. "there's our own baldy!" "and there's mother!" fairly shouted janet. "oh, mother! mother!" she cried. "oh, how glad i am!" and she made star face run toward the lady on horseback. "oh, my dear children! where have you been?" asked mrs. martin, a little later, as she hugged first janet and then teddy. "we--we got lost," teddy answered. "yes, but you ran away, and that was not right," his mother told him. "where did you go?" "we--we went on the trail after the indians," teddy answered. "did you find them?" asked baldy with a smile. "no, but we found a lot of horses and cows back there in a little valley with a fence," said janet. "and we were going to ride to the ranch house when we saw you." "ranch house!" cried baldy. "there isn't a ranch house within fifteen miles except the one at ring rosy. did you say you saw some cows and horses?" "yes. in a valley," explained teddy. "show us where it was!" eagerly cried the cowboy, and when the curlytops had ridden to it, with baldy and the others following, the lame cowboy, whose foot was a little better, exclaimed: "well, if the curlytops haven't gone and done it!" "done what?" asked their mother. "they've found the lost cattle and horses!" "you mean uncle frank's?" asked teddy. "that's just what i mean! these are the horses and cattle the indians drove away. the redmen put the animals in this valley and made a fence at this end so they couldn't get out. they knew the horses and cattle would have water to drink and grass to eat, and they'd stay here a long while--until the indians would have a chance to drive 'em farther away and sell 'em. "yes, that's just what they did. i never thought of this valley, though i saw it quite a few years ago. i've never been here since. the indians knew it would be a good place to hide the horses they stole, and we might never have found 'em if it hadn't been for you curlytops." "i'm glad!" said teddy. "so'm i," said janet, "and i'm hungry, too!" "well, we'll soon have you back at ring rosy ranch, where there's a good breakfast!" laughed baldy. "well! well! to think of you curlytops finding what we cowboys were looking all over for!" "and are daddy and uncle frank looking for these horses and cattle?" asked teddy. "yes. and for the indians that took 'em. but i guess they won't find either," baldy answered. and baldy was right. some hours after the curlytops were back at ring rosy ranch, in rode uncle frank and the others. they had not found what they had gone after, and you can imagine how surprised they all were when told that ted and janet had, by accident, found the lost cattle and horses in the hidden valley. "you're regular cowboys!" cried uncle frank. "i knew they'd turn out all right when they learned to ride ponyback!" said daddy martin. "though you mustn't ride on the trail alone after indians again!" he said. teddy and janet told all that had happened to them, from getting lost, to finding the blanket and going to sleep in it on the open prairie. one of the cowboys with uncle frank had lost the blanket, and he said he was glad he dropped it, since it gave teddy and janet something to eat and something to wrap up in. that afternoon the stolen horses and cattle were driven in from the hidden valley; so the indians did not get them after all. and a little later some soldiers came to keep guard over the redmen so they could not again go off their reservation to make trouble. all of uncle frank's animals, except a few that the indians had sold, were found, and the curlytops were the pride of ring rosy ranch as long as they remained there. "well, i wonder if we'll have any more adventures," said janet to her brother one day, about a week after they were lost and had been found. "oh, i guess so," he answered. "anyhow, we've got two nice ponies, and we can have lots of rides. come on, i'll race you." the bright summer days brought more fun to teddy and janet at uncle frank's ranch. they rode many miles on star face and clipclap, sometimes taking trouble with them. "i want to dwive," said the little fellow one day, as he sat on the saddle in front of his brother. "all right, you may drive a little while," teddy answered, and he let baby william hold the reins. "now i a cowboy!" exclaimed the little fellow. "gid-dap, clipclap! i go lasso a injun!" ted and janet laughed at this. and so, leaving the curlytops to their fun, we will say good-bye. the end the curlytops series by howard r. garis author of the famous "bedtime animal stories" _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full color._ _price per volume, cents postpaid_ _stories for children by the best author of books for little people._ . the curlytops at cherry farm _or vacation days in the country_ a tale of happy vacation days on a farm. the curlytops have exciting adventures. . the curlytops on star island _or camping out with grandpa_ the curlytops were delighted when grandpa took them to camp on star island. there they had great fun and a real mystery. . the curlytops snowed in _or grand fun with skates and sleds_ winter was a jolly time for the curlytops, with their skates and sleds, on the lakes and hills. . the curlytops at uncle frank's ranch _or little folks on pony back_ out west on their uncle's ranch they have a wonderful time among the cowboys and on pony back. . the curlytops at silver lake _or on the water with uncle ben_ the curlytops camp out with uncle ben on the shores of a beautiful lake. . the curlytops and their pets _or uncle toby's strange collection_ when an old uncle leaves them to care for his collection of pets, they get up a circus for charity. brother and sister series by josephine lawrence _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full colors_ _price per volume, cents, postpaid_ _brother and sister are the youngest of a large family of children and because they are so eager to do as the others do, roddy and betty sometimes tumble into a peck of mischief._ _these books will appeal especially to boys and girls from four to eight years old._ . brother and sister brother and sister are busy and happy all of the time and make friends easily. they learn that some children have less of the good things than they and set out to help them. . brother and sister's schooldays brother and sister attend the ridgeway public school where their little, poor friend mickey gaffney is also a pupil. brother and mickey try to find a missing gem which their teacher loses from her ring which gets them into trouble with the janitor. . brother and sister's holidays thanksgiving day at their grandmother's house was lots of fun for brother and sister; also their christmas time, when they helped the "poor people" for miles around. . brother and sister's vacation many strange things happen to brother and sister while spending their vacation off in the woods. a most interesting story for children. the billy bunny books by david cory _ mo. cloth. illustrated in colors_ _price per volume, cents, postpaid_ _fascinating stories about a little rabbit whose exciting adventures in the friendly forest and the pleasant meadow will delight every child._ . billy bunny and the friendly elephant billy bunny's uncle, mr. lucky lefthindfoot, is the owner of a circus. the big elephant becomes the friend of the little rabbit and they have many strange adventures together. . billy bunny and daddy fox this old robber is on the watch to catch the little rabbit, who has to use his wits to escape from the crafty old fox. . billy bunny and uncle bull frog uncle bull frog sits all day on his log in the old mill pond catching flies, and telling billy bunny interesting stories. . billy bunny and uncle lucky lefthindfoot "uncle lucky," as he is called, because he is very rich, owns a luckymobile, in which he takes billy bunny out for a drive almost every day. . billy bunny and robbie redbreast billy bunny gets into trouble with nearly all of his woodland neighbors but they make up and become friends again. robbie redbreast has his troubles but they are only little ones. . billy bunny and timmie chipmunk billy bunny has many adventures with his friends of the field and forest. timmie chipmunk was often unlucky but he was smart enough to escape most of his dangers. the ruby and ruthy series by minnie e. paull _ mo. cloth. illustrated. price per volume, cents, postpaid._ _four bright and entertaining stories told in mrs. paull's happiest manner are among the best stories ever written for young girls, and cannot fail to interest any between the ages of eight and fifteen years._ ruby and ruthy ruby and ruthie were not old enough to go to school, but they certainly were lively enough to have many exciting adventures, that taught many useful lessons needed to be learned by little girls. ruby's ups and downs there were troubles enough for a dozen grown-ups, but ruby got ahead of them all, and, in spite of them, became a favorite in the lively times at school. ruby at school ruby had many surprises when she went to the impossible place she heard called a boarding school, but every experience helped to make her a stronger-minded girl. ruby's vacation this volume shows how a little girl improves by having varieties of experience both happy and unhappy, provided she thinks and is able to use her good sense. ruby lives and learns. _send for our free illustrated catalogue._ cupples & leon company, publishers new york [transcriber's note: extensive research found no evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] the boy ranchers in death valley or _diamond x and the poison mystery_ by willard f. baker author of "the boy ranchers," "the boy ranchers at spur creek," "the boy ranchers in the desert," "the boy ranchers on roaring river," etc. _illustrated_ [transcriber's note: frontispiece missing from book] new york cupples & leon company the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker mo. cloth. frontispiece the boy ranchers or solving the mystery at diamond x the boy ranchers in camp or the water fight at diamond x the boy ranchers on the trail or diamond x after cattle rustlers the boy ranchers among the indians or diamond x trailing the yaquis the boy ranchers at spur creek or diamond x fighting the sheep herders the boy ranchers in the desert or diamond x and the lost mine the boy ranchers on roaring river or diamond x and the chinese smugglers the boy ranchers in death valley or diamond x and the poison mystery _other volumes in preparation_ cupples & leon company, new york copyright, , by cupples & leon company the boy ranchers in death valley printed in u. s. a. contents chapter i. bad news ii. undaunted by fear iii. on the trail iv. a night alarm v. the warning vi. at dot and dash vii. sam tarbell's story viii. the round-up ix. the queer old man x. dead cattle xi. into smugglers' glen xii. the elixer cave xiii. frightened horses xiv. bud disappears xv. the search xvi. bud's strange tale xvii. the avengers xviii. driven back xix. gas masks xx. glittering yellow xxi. false security xxii. to the rescue xxiii. testing the gold mine xxiv. a strange discovery xxv. the end of death valley the boy ranchers in death valley chapter i bad news excited shouts, mingled with laughter, floated on the sunlit and dust-laden air to the ranch house of diamond x. now and then, above the yells, could be heard the thudding of the feet of running horses on the dry ground. "what do you reckon those boys are doing, ma?" asked nell merkel as she paused in the act of laying the top crust on a raisin pie. "land knows," answered the girl's mother with half a sigh and half a chuckle. "they're always up to something. and, now that your pa is away----" mrs. merkel's remarks were interrupted by louder shouts from the corral, and nell heard cries of: "try it again, bud!" "you missed him clean, that time!" "how'd you like that mouthful of dust?" "git up an' ride 'im, cowboy!" like an echo to these sarcastic exclamations, nell heard the voice of her brother burton, commonly known as bud, answer: "i'll do it yet! just you wait!" "i wonder what bud's trying to do?" murmured nell. "oh, run along and look if you want to," suggested mrs. merkel, with a kind regard for nell's curiosity. "i'll finish the pie." "thanks!" and nell, not even pausing to clap a hat over her curls, hastened out into the yard, across the stretch of grass that separated the main house from the other buildings of diamond x and was soon approaching the corral where were kept the cow ponies needed for immediate use by the owner, his family or the various hands on the big estate. nell saw several cowboys perched on the corral fence, some with their legs picturesquely wound around the posts, others astraddle of the rails. among them she sighted dick and nort shannon, her two "city" cousins, who had come west to learn to be cowboys. and in passing it may be said that their education was almost completed now. "why, i wonder where bud is?" asked nell, as she made her way to the fenced-in place. a moment later she received an answer to her question, for her brother arose from the dust of the corral and started for the fence. he seemed to have been rolling in the dirt. "that's a queer way to have fun!" mused nell. without making her presence known, she stood off a little way and watched what was going on. she saw bud mount the fence near where the two shannon boys were sitting, though hardly able to maintain their seats because of their laughter. "going to try it again, bud?" asked dick. "surest thing you know!" snapped back the boy rancher. "wait till i go in and get you a bit of fly paper!" suggested nort. "fly paper! what for?" demanded bud. "so you can stick on!" "ho! ho! that's pretty good!" shouted such a loud voice that nell would have covered her ears only she knew, from past experience, that yellin' kid did not keep up his strident tones long. but this time he went on, like an announcer at a hog-calling contest, with: "fly paper! ho! ho! so bud can stick! that's pretty good!" "go ahead! be nasty!" commented bud good-naturedly as he climbed up the top rail and perched himself there in standing position while he looked over the dusty corral that was now a conglomeration of restless cow ponies. "but i'll do it yet!" "i wonder what in the world bud is trying to do?" asked nell of herself. she learned a moment later. for bud, after balancing himself on the top rail, looked across the corral to where old billee dobb was holding a restless pony, and the lad called: "turn him loose, billee!" "here he comes! all a-lather!" shouted the veteran cow puncher, as he slapped his hat on the flank of the pony and sent it galloping around the inside fence toward the waiting youth. "it's now or never, bud!" "it's going to be now!" shouted nell's brother. fascinated, as any true girl of the west would be, by the spirited scene, nell saw bud poise himself for a leap. then she understood what was about to take place. "he's going to jump from the top rail of the fence and try to land on the back of the pony when it gallops past him!" murmured nell. "regular circus trick that is! i wonder if he can do it? but from the looks of him i should say he'd already fallen two or three times. billee gave him a fast one this round." nell referred to the horse. and it was characteristic of her that she was not in the least afraid of what might be the consequences of her brother attempting the aforesaid "circus trick." nell was as eager to see what would happen, as were any of the cowboys perched on the corral fence, and in furtherance of her desire she drew nearer. by this time the pony, started on its way by the slapping from billee dobb's hat, was running fast. and its speed was further increased by what dick, nort and their companions, perched up there like rail birds, did and said. for the punchers, old and young, yelled and yipped at the steed. "come on there, you boneyard bait!" shouted snake purdee. "faster there, you spavin-eyed son of a chinaman!" roared yellin' kid. nort gave vent to a shrill whistle, while dick, drawing his big revolver, fired several shots in the air. all this had the effect of further alarming the already startled pony and when it neared the place where bud was perched on the top rail, ready to make a flying leap, the animal was, as old billee had said, "all a-lather." "bud is crazy to try anything like that!" exclaimed nell in a low voice. nevertheless she did not call out to stop him, and her cheeks showed rosy pink and her eyes were sparkling in the excitement of the moment. "go on, now! ride 'im, cowboy!" came in stentorian tones from yellin' kid. "oh, i hope he makes it!" voiced nell, clenching her hands so tightly that the nails bit into her palms. a moment later, as the pony rushed around the confused bunch of its fellows in the center of the corral, bud leaped for its back, for the animal was now opposite him. the pony carried only a blanket strapped around its middle. and there was nothing for the venturesome rider, or would-be rider, to cling to but this strap or blanket. "if there was a saddle, bud could make it!" whispered nell in her excitement. "i guess that's why he must have fallen the other times." for upon his clothes and person bud merkel bore unmistakable signs and evidences of having fallen not once but several times in the corral dust. "wow!" yelled dick shannon. "he's on!" cried his brother nort. "and off ag'in!" roared yellin' kid. bud had made the leap from the fence, his hands, for a moment, had grasped the strap around the pony and then his fingers had slipped off. likewise the one leg he managed to throw over the steed's back seemed to be about to slide off. but just when it seemed that bud would fall to the ground, his fingers, in a last, despairing grip, caught a fold of the blanket. by a supreme effort he pulled himself up, managed to get one leg over the ridge-like backbone of the pony and, a moment later, he was sitting upright on the saddle blanket, both hands under the strap, while his heels played a tattoo on the sides of the steed, urging him forward at even faster speed. "by golly, he done it!" cried old billee. "he sure enough did!" echoed yellin' kid, reaching for his cigarette papers and muslin bag of tobacco. "that ought to get him something at palmo," commented snake purdee, referring to a coming rodeo in a nearby town close to the mexican border. "can't do a much more hair-raisin' trick than that!" "i didn't think he could do it!" commented old billee coming around from the far side of the corral to join his friends. "well, he tried hard enough before he managed to stick," exclaimed nort. in the excess of her enthusiasm nell clapped her hands. and dick, turning to ascertain the source of the noise, chuckled: "look who's here!" "got a ticket, little girl?" asked bud, who, having demonstrated that he could do what he had said he could--leap from the corral fence to the back of a passing pony--was now slowing down his steed and riding him back to where the other punchers were perched. "i'm a reporter," responded nell with a smile. "i'm writing this rodeo up for the papers." "then we'll have to make a press box for you," said nort. he and his brother, with the half score of cowboys, and nell were offering their congratulations to the daring boy rancher when a new voice, floating toward the corral from the direction of the house, called to ask: "what's all the excitement about?" "oh, hello, dad!" cried bud, waving his hat toward a well set-up, bronzed specimen of a western ranchman who was walking slowly toward the fence. "did you see me?" "i saw you risk your neck, if that's what you mean," answered mr. merkel with a half smile. "you should have seen him when he missed!" chuckled old billee. "anything the matter, dad?" asked bud as he swung himself down off the saddle blanket and approached his father who was now leaning over the top rail of the corral fence. something in mr. merkel's face showed that he had news to impart. "you see," went on bud, "we're all going to do stunts over at the palmo rodeo, and i made up this one, of fence jumping, so dick and nort and i could horn in on some of the prizes. but if you don't want me to--" he paused suggestively. "you seemed to make out all right this last time, which is the only time i saw you," chuckled mr. merkel. "but----" "you needn't worry about the ranch work, dad!" interrupted bud, eagerly. "it's all been 'tended to. herd riding, looking after fences, cattle all shipped off just as you left word when you went away and all that. we got everything cleaned up and i thought we could take a little time off to practice for the rodeo." "oh, sure! that's all right!" mr. merkel hastened to say. "i wasn't finding any fault with your bare-back riding. but what i wanted to say was that i've got a new job for you boys and if you take it on, which i hope you'll do, you won't have any time for a rodeo." "a new job!" cried nort, eagerly. "anything to do with chinese smuggling?" asked dick. "no, i'm glad to say it hasn't," went on the owner of diamond x. "this is right in the line of your regular work." "then you bought the new ranch; did you, dad?" asked bud, for his father had been away about a week on a mission known only to the immediate family, but which was now stated by his son. "yes," mr. merkel slowly replied, "i took over dot and dash, and if everything here at diamond x and in happy valley is in as good shape as you boys seem to think, why, i'm going to send you there." "send us where?" bud wanted to know. "to the new ranch--dot and dash is its cattle brand--to get it in shape before winter sets in. you don't mind; do you?" "mind!" joyously cried bud. "sure not!" "that's good news!" commented nort. "right-o!" sang out his brother. "things were getting slow around here, and if we didn't have the coming rodeo to think about----" "well, then if you're willing to take charge of dot and dash for a while you can pass up the rodeo," chuckled mr. merkel. "not but what you won't have more excitement, maybe, than if you did try bulldogging and bare-back riding," he added to his son. "only it will be sort of different, and your stunts will be doing some good instead of just endangering your necks." "aw, there wasn't any danger," murmured bud. "no!" chuckled snake purdee. "the dust is pretty soft to fall on," and his point was illustrated as bud began whipping some of the accumulated soil from his chaps. "well, that's what i came out to tell you, the news about buying dot and dash," concluded mr. merkel. "that's good news for us!" declared nort. "it will give dick and me a chance to show how much we have learned about cow punching since we came here." "sure, it's good news all right," echoed dick. and then old billee dobb struck in with a few remarks which, most distinctly, were in the category of bad news. for the veteran puncher said: "excuse me, boss," and he looked at mr. merkel to ask: "did i understand you to say you'd taken over the old dot and dash ranch?" "that's right, billee." "is that the outfit not far from los pompan, near the mexican border?" "that's the place, billee." "hum!" the old man seemed lost in thought for a moment. then he went on with: "it's in a valley; ain't it, boss?" "yes, billee, in the prettiest valley, outside of happy, that i ever laid eyes on. it's an ideal place for a cattle ranch. i'm lucky to get hold of it at the price i did. but jed barter was anxious to sell out and----" "'scuse me once more, boss," and old billee seemed very anxious and much in earnest now, "but did you hear any rumors or talk about dot and dash before you bought it?" "no, billee, i didn't. what do you mean?" "didn't anybody tell you the local name of the place 'fore you took it over?" "the local name! why, no. what's the name got to do with it?" "nothin' much, maybe," slowly answered billee while the boy ranchers regarded him curiously. "only dot and dash ranch is located in what has always been called death valley, and nobody has ever been able to make a success of it as long as i can remember. i wish, boss," he went on earnestly, "that you'd 'a' told me 'fore you bought this ranch. i'd 'a' put you wise to what it really is--death valley!" "death valley?" echoed bud merkel. "what do you mean? who died there, and how come?" an ominous hush fell over the assemblage of cowboys on the corral fence and they looked from billee dobb to the owner of diamond x. the bad news, clearly, had startled him from his usual calm. chapter ii undaunted by fear "look here, billee," began mr. merkel as he leaned against the fence for he had just returned from a long journey and was rather weary. "is this a joke or are you just stringing me?" "no stringing, boss, and not a joke either. you've bought a ranch in death valley as sure as shootin', and while i wish you good luck i don't see how you're going to have it--not if death valley is like what it was years ago." "you aren't getting my new dot and dash ranch mixed up with death valley in the panamint mountains of california; are you?" asked mr. merkel. "i know that place--four hundred feet below sea level--alkali--borax and all that sort of stuff. do you mean----?" "no, i don't mean that death valley," interrupted billee. "this death valley i speak of is only a local name for the region around los pompan. but it's as bad as the other." "suppose you tell me more about it, billee," suggested the ranch owner. "sounds like it would be a good yarn!" commented bud. "the kind i like to read about," added nort. "this is no _yarn_!" declared the veteran puncher in an ominous voice. "it's gospel truth. i'll tell you all i know." he hitched his heavy chaps around to make his legs more comfortable and then, selecting a place on the ground, where a shadow was cast by the cowboys on the fence, billee dobb began his narrative. but before i give you that, i want to make my new readers somewhat better acquainted with bud merkel and his two cousins. they are the youths who are to be the heroes of this story, and they first came into prominence in the initial volume of this series, entitled: "the boy ranchers; or solving the mystery at diamond x." in that story was related how norton and richard shannon had gone out west, from new york, and how they took up life on the ranch of their uncle henry merkel. there they found bud, who had been among horses and cattle all his life. nort and dick soon assimilated the traditions of the west, became accomplished riders and able to punch cows with the best of the hands on diamond x. the lads from the east also learned what it was to come to grips with rustlers, led by that notorious half breed del pinzo. after having solved the mystery at diamond x, bud and his cousins were given virtual charge of another ranch in happy valley, not far from the main one managed by mr. merkel and his foreman slim degnan. but even on what was, practically, their own ranch, the troubles and adventures of the boys were not over. del pinzo and others tried more of their tricks and in the succeeding volumes of the series is related about the water fight, the battle with more cattle rustlers, how the yaqui indians were trailed, and how the sheep herders were overcome. "the boy ranchers on roaring river; or diamond x and the chinese smugglers" is the title of the book immediately preceding the present volume, and in that bud, dick and nort had some narrow escapes from unscrupulous men. incidentally they helped the united states government bring to justice a large chinese smuggling band. things on diamond x had somewhat quieted down after the strenuous days with delton and the others, and mr. merkel had gone off on a business trip, the import of which was little known to the boys. he had returned, as has been related, in time to see bud leap from the fence to the back of a galloping horse in preparation for rodeo stunts. then billee dobb had made his startling announcement about the ominous character of the new ranch purchased by the cattleman. "before you spill your bad news, billee," suggested mr. merkel, "maybe i ought to say a few words about what i've done. but also let me ask you if this death valley of yours is anything more than one of the picturesque names we have out here in the golden west. you know we just naturally run to dead horse gulch, ghost canyon and all that sort of stuff. so if your death valley doesn't mean more than those names, why----" "it means a while lot more than just a name, boss," said the old puncher solemnly. "it means _real death_." "death to whom, billee?" asked bud. "to anybody that's foolish enough to try to live there and ride herd," was the short answer. "how about the cattle?" dick wanted to know. "the same thing happens to them as happens to the men," said billee in a low voice. "they just naturally die off 'fore they can be shipped to market. believe me, death valley is a good place to stay away from!" "how is it, then, billee," asked mr. merkel, "that nothing happened to me? i just came from there. i don't buy a pig in a poke. i went to dot and dash and sized the place up before i closed the deal with jed barter. how is it death valley didn't get me, billee?" nothing daunted the old man replied: "you didn't stay there long enough." "well, there may be something in that," admitted bud's father. "but it won't take me long to tell you boys," and he indicated his son, dick, nort and all the other punchers. "for some time past," he went on, "i've had the notion that i wanted to spread out a little. neither diamond x nor happy valley is quite large enough. to make any money in the cattle business nowadays you got to do business on a large scale. so i've been looking around, and making inquiries, and in that way heard that the dot and dash ranch was in the market. i'd looked at several others before i got word about this and didn't like 'em, for one reason or another. "but when i got to los pompan, which is the nearest town to where dot and dash is located, it struck me that here i'd found just what i was looking for. the ranch wasn't too near the town, and yet it wasn't too far from the railroad, and i took the trouble to find out if the railroad branch line i'd have to use had good cattle pens and loading chutes. lots of lines haven't." "you spilled a mouthful of good beans right there," commented snake purdee. "so," resumed mr. merkel after nodding at snake, "liking the first once-over i gave the ranch, i investigated further. it had plenty of good grazing ground, lots of water, and there's a range of hills that will keep off the cold winds in winter. barter's cattle--what i saw of 'em--looked to be in good shape. so, having satisfied myself, i made him an offer for the place, we dickered a bit and then closed. so he vamoosed off dot and dash and i went on and took possession." "but did you come away, dad, and leave no one in charge?" asked bud, in surprise. "oh, no," was the answer. "i hired tim dolan, the foreman who worked for barter, to remain in charge until i could send you boys down to get your hands in." "was this here dolan anxious to stay?" asked billee, slowly. "well, no, now you mention it, he did seem in a hurry to get away," admitted mr. merkel. "though i didn't pay any attention to it at the time. he said he had another job, and----" "most everybody that goes to death valley does get another job," commented billee, dryly. "but go on, boss." "well, that's about all there is to tell," said mr. merkel. "i bought dot and dash and hurried home here to get bud, and some of the boys to go down and take charge. and when i get here i find you practicing circus stunts." "i'm through that stuff, dad, if you got a real job for me!" exclaimed bud. "you'll get a real job all right, and then some," muttered old billee. "go on! spill it!" begged bud. "what you talking to yourself for? broadcast it, billee!" "oh, i'll tell you all i know, if your father is through," voiced the veteran puncher. "yes, i'm through, billee," said mr. merkel. "let's hear your good news." "'tain't good news, and there's no use pretendin' it is!" snapped the aged cowboy. "if i'd known you was dickerin' for any ranch near los pompan, boss, i'd 'a' told you to lay off. but it's too late for that now, it seems, so i can only warn you to keep away." "but i've bought it and paid for it. barter has my money and----" "let him keep it, boss." "and lose the ranch and the cattle on it?" "better to lose your money than to lose your life," muttered billee. "as for the cattle, you'll find fewer of 'em there when you go back than you left there." "oh, stop croaking, billee, and spill the beans!" begged nort. "'twon't take long," billee answered. "i forget just how many years ago it is," he said, looking off toward the distant hills that bordered diamond x, "when, in the course of my wanderings, i struck los pompan. there was a ranch there then, called dot and dash, just as there is now, but it was run by a fellow named golas. maybe he was a mex. anyhow i signed up with him and started to ridin' herd. but i didn't stay long." "couldn't you hold down the job?" chuckled babe milton, who was slim degnan's assistant, and as fat as degnan was lean. "none of your wise cracks!" snapped billee. "i can cut out a bunch of cattle better'n what you can any day and i'm a heap sight older 'n' wiser. no, the reason i quit was on account of what kept happenin' at dot and dash." "and what happened?" asked dick. "death is what happened!" said billee, solemnly. "mysterious death!" "death can happen on any ranch," observed mr. merkel quietly. "we have, unfortunately, had deaths here." "yes, but they were natural deaths!" declared billee. "and they didn't keep happenin' one after another like at dot and dash." "how many deaths were there?" bud wanted to know. "i don't rightly remember, but there was plenty." "you said they were mysterious," commented nort. "in what way?" "that's what nobody could find out," resumed the veteran puncher. "first some poor devil of a puncher would be found dead off in some lonely swale. then we'd find a bunch of cows stretched out, and then we'd find another dead man." "rustlers," suggested slim. "rustlers nothin'!" scoffed billee. "rustlers drive off cattle--they don't kill 'em--what would be the good?" "i meant the rustlers did up the cowboys," suggested the foreman. "well, if these fellows, who were found dead, got shot, why wasn't there bullet holes in 'em?" asked billee, teasingly. "wasn't there?" asked dick. "not a hole." "how about a knife thrust?" nort wanted to know. "not a scratch or any kind of mark on 'em!" declared the old man. "and yet their faces showed they'd died in agony. that's what i meant by mysterious deaths." "it does sound rather queer," admitted mr. merkel. "but didn't you find out what caused all this, billee?" "no, boss, i didn't stay long enough. and neither did nobody else i ever heard of, who worked at dot and dash. i vamoosed." "well, maybe there was something queer about the ranch years ago," admitted mr. merkel. "but that doesn't say, because fifteen or twenty seasons back something queer happened, that it's still going on." "oh, but it is!" declared billee. "not a month ago i met a puncher who was lookin' for a job. he come here but i knew we was full up so i told him to go over to circle t, and he done so. but he'd been down death valley way recent like, and he said it was just the same." "you mean about mysterious deaths?" asked dick. "that's it, boy! so what i says is, lay off that place, boss!" "hum!" mused mr. merkel. "it doesn't sound very jolly. i don't want anybody to take any unnecessary risks and yet i hate to lose my money." "you shan't lose it, dad!" cried bud. "what do you mean, son?" "just this! dick, nort and i will go down there! we aren't going to be scared off by any of billee's tales! we're not afraid; are we?" he looked at his fellow boy ranchers. "nothing to it!" declared dick, valiantly. "let's go!" cried nort, eagerly. undaunted by fear, the three lads ranged themselves alongside of mr. merkel, waiting for his word. chapter iii on the trail slowly the owner of diamond x began to speak. "that's just about what i'd expect of you boys," remarked mr. merkel with a smile as he surveyed the lads. "but i can't let you run your heads into a noose." "that's just what they would be doing if they tried to ride herd in death valley," came ominously from the veteran puncher. "watch me get him!" whispered bud to his cousins. then, addressing old billee he went on: "i don't reckon, if we hit the trail for dad's new dot and dash ranch--i don't reckon you'll come with us; will you--billee?" and he drawled the last few words with a wink at nort and dick. "who, me? go out there with you if your pa thinks he'll let you? is that what you asted me?" demanded billee dobb, sharply. "you heard me the first time!" chuckled bud. "what say?" "course i'll go with you an' you know it!" snapped the old man. "hu! what you think i am, anyhow?" "but you just said you vamoosed from death valley because you were afraid," said bud. "well, what i mean i _was_ afraid!" admitted billee. "it was a mighty skeery feelin', i'm tellin' you, to start out in the mornin' an' not know whether you'd come acrost some dead puncher 'fore you'd ridden half way round the herd. i sure was scared!" "then why would you be willing to go back?" asked nort. "to look after you kids--that's why--if so be your pa thinks it fitten to send you out to dot and dash. an' you heard me, too, the first time!" snapped billee with a trace of temper which was unusual in his gentle nature. "well, i don't believe i'm going to send them--that's the answer to one question," said mr. merkel. "after what you told me, billee, i can't see that it would be wise to take a chance. i'll put up with my loss, and----" "did you pay much for the new ranch, dad?" asked bud. "well, i thought i was getting a bargain," his father relied. "but maybe i'm going to be left holding the bag after all. it strikes me now that barter was pretty anxious and quick to sell. i ought to have smelled a rat, but i didn't. and, by and large, it was a pretty good sum i paid. but, as i said, i'm willing to lose if----" "you aren't going to lose, uncle henry!" cried nort. "not if we have anything to say about it!" chimed in his brother. "and you got to count on me!" added bud. "the smallest roosters always have the loudest crow!" chuckled snake purdee. "hey, you! cut that out!" growled yellin' kid. "there ain't a yaller streak in these boys an' you know it!" "course i know it!" chuckled snake. "i was only kiddin'! me, i aim to go 'long with 'em an' see what caused them mysterious killin's. sure, i'm goin'!" "go easy, boys!" chuckled billee. "if you all leave diamond x, how's slim an' babe goin' to run things?" "don't fool yourselves!" snapped the lanky foreman. "i run diamond x 'fore any of you fellers ever forked a bronc an' i can do it again." "he's got me!" chimed in babe. "ho! ho!" chuckled yellin' kid. "you must 'a' been readin' the funny papers!" there was an ominous note, now, in some of the voices and mr. merkel, knowing how easily tempers of even the best of punchers are ruffled, interposed a soothing word or two. "this isn't getting us anywhere," he said. "if what billee states is true, and i know he is telling the truth as he sees it, or as he heard it, why, i'm not going to send anybody to dot and dash." "oh, dad!" cried bud, beseechingly, while nort and dick chimed in with: "uncle henry, we just _got_ to go!" "we'll have another talk about it," went on the ranch owner. "this is all news to me, billee, and surprising news, too. i don't know what to do. i wish i had heard some of these stories before i went to los pompan." "you'd 'a' heard 'em all right if you had asted me," said the old man, thoughtfully scratching his head near where a bald spot was plainly showing. "but i had no idea you'd ever locate there." "oh, i won't _locate_ there!" mr. merkel made haste to say. "i'd never live anywhere else than at diamond x--my wife wouldn't move. but i just have to branch out and this struck me as being a good place to start." "ain't no better place in all the west for raisin' cattle than the neighborhood of los pompan," interposed billee. "and if it wasn't for what happened in death valley i'd be there yet." "but what, actually, did happen?" asked bud. "that's what i don't know--what nobody knows," said billee, "and that's what makes it all the more mysterious. shucks! if we could 'a' found out what caused the deaths it would have been easy to stop it--whether it was indians, rustlers or some disease. but we couldn't find out. that was the trouble, boys," and his voice sank to a whisper, "we couldn't find out." "then we will!" cried bud. "you'll do what?" asked his father. "we'll solve the mystery of death valley. come on, dad," he pleaded, "you just got to let us go!" "i'll think about it," was all mr. merkel would say, and there was a more serious air about him than he had worn in many a day. gone, now, on the part of the boy ranchers, was any interest they may have had in the coming rodeo at palmo. all their talk and ideas centered about what the ranch owner had told them, and the bad news blurted out by billee dobb. while mr. merkel went in the house, where he talked to his wife and daughter, speaking only sketchily of the result of his trip and billee's remarks, the boys began to question the veteran puncher. it developed that other hands on diamond x had also heard rumors of sinister stories about dot and dash. "but we never had no reason, before, for speakin' of 'em," remarked squinty lewis. and that, generally, was the sentiment. but though he could not have guessed his employer was on a mission to los pompan, billee reproached himself for not having sounded a warning. "do you honestly mean to say, billee," asked bud while his cousins listened eagerly, "that there wasn't any way of tellin' how those punchers and the cattle died?" "absolutely not, boy!" was the reply. "they'd be all right one day, and the next they'd be dead." "maybe lightning struck 'em," suggested nort. "lightning leaves a mark," billee replied. "besides, these things--i mean the deaths--would happen in clear weather. we didn't have many storms, though lightning did kill some cows and i remember one puncher who cashed in his chips that way. he was a nasty looking object, too, let me tell you. but death valley don't depend on lightning to get you. there's some other way." "well, we're going to find out what it is!" declared bud and his cousins backed him up so forcefully that, in the end, mr. merkel at last consented to the boy ranchers going to dot and dash, at least to look the place over. "i'm not going to ask you to try and sell it for me, so i won't be stuck," the ranchman said after his decision was made. "i'm not going to palm off a death-dealing place on somebody the way barter, so it appears, loaded me up with it. but i don't yet admit anything is wrong. however, if you boys find there is, just close up shop and we'll forget it." "no, dad, we won't!" said bud in a low voice, but with great determination. "what'll you do then?" "we'll find that death-dealing ghost and lay him, or her or whatever it is!" cried the lad. "and we'll be with you from the drop of the hat until the last gun is fired," cried nort, while dick nodded his agreement. "well, i like to hear you talk that way," mr. merkel said. "but i do hope nothing happens," he added anxiously, when the boys left to make preparations for taking the trail to death valley. "something is bound to happen!" said billee, who had been present when the decision was made. "but maybe these boys'll be able to beat the game. they cleaned up the chinese smugglers and beat the rustlers, so they may cheat this mysterious death--whatever it is." "hush!" warned mr. merkel, for the old man, in the rancher's private office, had spoken rather loudly. "i don't want my wife and nell to hear. they'd never let the boys go, and i'm not sure i should, either." "i'm going to be with them," billee said, as if that meant a lot, and it really did. "i'll send yellin' kid and snake purdee, too," decided mr. merkel. "yes," agreed billee, "and it's going to be hard to beat that bunch. well, maybe the curse has died out, but i'm afraid not--i'm afraid not," he added with an ominous shake of his head as he went to the corral to arrange about selecting the horses for the coming trip. los pompan was about a week's ride, by easy stages, from diamond x, and while the trip could have been made by train or auto, the boys decided to take their horses. considerable in the way of supplies must be taken, and, after all, an auto is not of much use, even the ever-dependable flivver, in riding herd, a round-up or cutting out a bunch of cattle for shipment. albeit most of the ranchers owned cars which came in handy for going to and fro from town, or getting in food and supplies to the ranch house. "we may be able to pick up a cheap, second-hand car after we get out there," remarked nort when his brother and bud were talking plans over with him a few days before the start. this was after they had decided to ride their ponies to death valley rather than take the rusty and trusty old tin lizzie which they owned and which carried them back and forth between happy valley and diamond x. "yes, we may need a car to run down this mysterious death-dealing force that billee sets such a store by," agreed bud. final preparations were made. the boy ranchers, with billee, snake and yellin' kid were to take over dot and dash. mrs. merkel and nell said their good-byes, happily unaware of the dangerous phase of the undertaking. as for the boys, they would not admit it was dangerous. to them it was a great lark. "i only hope they'll sing the same tune after they've seen some of the things i've seen," remarked old billee. "but i'll stick by 'em to the last!" "on our way!" cried bud, the morning of the start, when their ponies had been saddled and extra mounts, carrying packs, were loaded with food and supplies. "hit the trail!" echoed nort. "and we'll come back with its scalp!" added dick, referring, though not specifically, to the mystery. "good-bye, boys," said mr. merkel in a low voice. "and--take care of yourselves," he added as he clasped firmly the hands of his son and nephews. "don't take any risks." "no, sir!" they promised. but mr. merkel took that for what it was worth. so they were on the trail at last, setting out with high hopes and light hearts for death valley. "where's that outfit heading for?" asked a passing puncher from circle t ranch, the nearest to diamond x, and a place owned by thomas ogden, who was quite friendly with mr. merkel. "that outfit?" questioningly repeated babe milton, sizing up the man and noting that he was a stranger, "that bunch is going to los pompan to take over a new ranch the boss bought." it was no secret--half the people around palmo knew what mr. merkel had done, though they had not heard the sinister reports of death valley. "to los pompan, eh?" murmured the puncher, looking at the cloud of dust which hovered over the cavalcade of the boy ranchers. "los pompan," and he seemed unusually interested. "know anything about it?" asked babe. "who, me? not a thing!" and, putting spurs to his mount he was off and away. "i don't want to be impolite," murmured babe as he watched the puncher disappear in a cloud of dust, "but i think you're a liar!" meanwhile the boy ranchers were on the trail. what they would find in death valley not even billee dobb could tell. chapter iv a night alarm "well, dick, how they coming?" bud merkel urged his pony up alongside the mount of his cousin and gave young shannon a friendly poke in the ribs. "oh, everything's fine, bud," responded dick. "how about you, nort?" "i'm sitting pretty," was the response from the other boy rancher. "that's good," and bud began to whistle a lively air. "thought maybe you were getting tired of the trip." "what, so soon? and we've only been on the trail three days!" exclaimed nort. "what do you think we are--tenderfeet?" "sure not!" replied bud. "but this is one of the longest trips we've ever taken without something happening, and i thought maybe you two were getting discouraged." "nothing to it!" chuckled dick. "as you say, nothing much has really happened, but we've been having a fine time since we started out from diamond x." "and there's still plenty of time for things to happen before we get to dot and dash and see what death valley looks like," suggested nort. "you said it, kid!" exclaimed snake purdee who, with old billee dobb on one flank, and yellin' kid on the other, was trailing the three boys along the rough and dusty trail. "there's plenty of time yet for things to happen." it was their third day of travel since mr. merkel had sent the boys and the older ranch hands off to take possession of his new place concerning which billee had told such sinister tales. the first day was uneventful if you eliminate the fact that the pack of one of the led horses came loose, spilling the outfit on the ground. but it was easily salvaged though it took some little time to pursue and rope the horse who seemed inclined to take a holiday. the first night saw the travelers camping under the glorious stars and though, as a matter of precaution the boys insisted on standing guard, it was not necessary. aside from the distant howling of coyotes, not a sound disturbed their slumbers. they traveled on the next day, stopping to cook their dinner over an open fire and the boys declared they had even beaten ma merkel at the cooking game. though billee dobb was heard to complain that the beans, which dick passed to him, somehow lacked the home ranch flavor. they were now on their third day of travel, after two uneventful nights spent in the open, and, so far, nothing had happened. truth to tell, dick and nort were beginning to get a bit discouraged. they had heard much about the great and glorious west before coming to live at diamond x and the things that happened shortly after they arrived were quite "up to sample," as dick used to remark. and in the succeeding seasons they passed with bud, riding fence, helping at the round-ups and at the cutting out of cattle for shipment, enough had taken place to satisfy any reasonable lad. so it was not without reason that dick and nort expected something startling to happen after they had started on this expedition. especially after what billee dobb had told them concerning death valley. "but we haven't had any trouble since that one load was spilled," complained dick as he and his brother and cousin rode along together. "are you looking for trouble?" chuckled bud. "well, i'd like enough to keep from getting lonesome," was the reply. "you take it now----" dick's remarks were suddenly interrupted for, at that moment, his pony felt its left forefoot slipping into the burrow of a prairie dog. and in shifting and struggling to keep from going down the pony neatly shook dick from the saddle and deposited him in a heap alongside the trail. "ride 'im, cowboy!" shouted yellin' kid. "say, this is no rodeo!" chuckled bud. "are you hurt?" nort anxiously inquired, spurring to his brother, who was scrambling to his feet. the pony, after running on a little way, came to a stop for the reins slipped down over its head and this was sufficient signal to cause a halt. "hurt? shucks, no!" cried dick. "'tisn't the first time i've had a fall." nor was it. suddenly leaving the saddle was something a cowboy must count on any time of the night or day. and there are ways of falling off gracefully, and without damage, just as there are in submitting to a football tackle. dick and nort had learned how to protect themselves. "well, something happened then all right!" chuckled bud as he rode on to capture dick's pony and lead him back to the unseated ranch lad. "thanks, but i don't care for just that kind of happening," and dick laughed as he vaulted into the saddle and the travelers kept on their way. because of the fact that they had with them several led horses, carrying packs containing food and other supplies, their progress was necessarily slow. "well, we're half way there, i guess, aren't we, billee?" asked bud when, late that afternoon, they reached a place in a grove of trees amid the foothills where it seemed a good place to make camp for the night. "leetle more'n half way," admitted the old puncher. "that's good!" sighed dick. "i'm anxious to see what we'll find in death valley." "do you know, billee, i've got another idea," remarked bud as the horses were picketed and preparations begun for cooking supper. "i mean about the mysterious deaths of men and cattle you say you saw while you were a hand on dot and dash." "yes, i seen 'em all right!" declared billee with more force than grammar. "i'm not doubting that," admitted bud. "though you don't know what killed 'em. but i got an idea." "what?" chorused nort and dick. "a poison spring!" exclaimed bud. "i mean bad water. you know there's a lot of it out this way, and especially as we get into the mineral district, where dad's new ranch is located. maybe there were poison springs on dot and dash, billee, and the men you saw lying dead, and also the cattle, might have drunk from them. couldn't it happen that way?" "yes, it _could_," admitted billee with an emphasis which showed his doubt. "but i never heard tell of no bad water on dot and dash." "but maybe we can find some," went on bud. "find bad water--poison springs! sufferin' horned toads, what you want to do that for?" roared yellin' kid. "to prove my point," answered bud, "and to locate such places and fence 'em off so there won't be any more deaths. if dad is going to develop this ranch he doesn't want bad water on it." "you're right! i didn't think of that," admitted the cowboy. "the kid may be right, billee," he went on. "yes, he _may_ be," admitted the veteran with that same emphasis of doubt. "and it's true enough the boss wants to develop this new ranch. he said, if we could get it going, he'd buy a big herd and raise cattle down there. but first death valley has got to be cleaned up, and that's certain!" "and cleaning up death valley and solving the mystery is just what we are going to do!" declared bud. "how about it, boys?" and he turned to his cousins. "we're with you!" echoed nort and dick in chorus. after the meal, and as darkness began to fall, the travelers sat about the campfire, the dancing flames of which cast flickering shadows over their faces. the men were smoking and the boys talked among themselves, speculating over the mystery and occasionally listening to the conversation of billee, snake and yellin' kid. "well, i'm goin' to turn in!" billee announced at last as he rose and started for his blankets. as the air was warm and dry they had not erected the small tent which was carried. "shall we stand guard?" asked nort. "what in the name of tunket for?" asked snake. "what good did it do you to have sentry-go the other nights?" "none," admitted bud. "guess there isn't much sense in it." "what do you say, billee?" asked nort. "anybody what wants to stay awake all night listenin' to them pesky coyotes has my permission!" chuckled the old man. "as for me, i'm going to pound my ear," and he prepared to crawl into his bed. "we'll let it go," bud decided and his cousins were not at all averse to this, for it was no fun for one member of the trio to lose even a few hours' sleep while waiting to call his relief to take the nest trick. accordingly, a little later, all six of the travelers were peacefully slumbering, while the restless horses moved about the length of their picket ropes, picking what herbage they could reach. it happened to be dick who was suddenly awakened at what he judged to be the middle of the night. and the manner of his awakening was this. he seemed to be dreaming that he was buying a new pair of shoes and, after having tried on several tentative pairs in a shop, the salesman, who was attired in the full regalia of a cowboy, gave dick's left foot a sharp kick as if to indicate that he should remove the shoe from it. this kick was so realistic that it awakened the youth and he sat up, his eyes barely open, but feeling a distinct pain in his left foot. "that was some vivid dream," dick was murmuring to himself when he suddenly became aware that some one was moving away from him--a dark figure barely seen in the shadows of the night--shadows cast by the flickering embers of the fire. and then, in a rush, there came to the young rancher the meaning of this night alarm. it had been partly a dream and partly an actual happening. some one had stepped over him as he lay in his blankets and had kicked his foot, causing the dream to merge into reality. "who are you?" cried dick sharply, reaching for his gun. chapter v the warning flaring up suddenly, a stick, in the embers of the fire which had long been smoldering, burst into blaze. by the light of this dick saw the figure hurrying out of the maze of sleeping bodies in the camp. and there was light enough to see, though dimly, that the figure was that of an old man. "billee dobb, is that you?" cried dick, lowering the gun with which he had begun to draw a bead on the moving figure. "what's the matter?" but, even as he asked the question his eyes roved to the place where the old puncher had spread his blankets. and a huddled form there told dick that billee was still sleeping. then, before the boy rancher could again get his gun up, the mysterious figure that had caused the night alarm slipped out of the circle of firelight and into the shadows of darkness. hardly sure, even yet, that it was not all a dream, part of the queer, fantastic vision of the cowboy shoe salesman kicking his foot, dick sat there on his blankets, fingering his gun and wondering what would happen next. "did i see an old man or didn't i?" the boy was asking himself when two other things happened simultaneously, in the end convincing him that it was not all a dream. one thing that happened was that billee dobb himself awakened and sat up as dick was doing. "what's the row?" the veteran cattle puncher demanded. before dick could reply there was a disturbance among the tethered ponies as though something had alarmed them. in a flash it came to dick that the intruder he had seen was trying to steal a horse. the ponies did not dream. when they saw anything they knew it was real. accordingly the boy sharply called: "a horse thief, billee!" this warning was enough to set any westerner on the alert in an instant, for, in spite of the progress of automobiles, the horse is still, in the cattle reaches of the west, a thing most vitally needed. "horse thieves, eh?" cried billee in ringing tones. "the varmints! come on, boys! we'll get 'em!" his cries and the voice of dick served to rouse the others in camp and in a few moments nort, bud, yellin' kid and snake purdee had unrolled from their warm blankets and had grabbed their guns. bud threw some light cottonwood on the embers and the blaze that at once resulted showed objects up fairly plainly, though there was sufficient shadow to make the picking out of any particular horse thief very difficult. "where is he--which way did he go?" shouted yellin' kid. "over there!" and dick pointed the trail along which they had ridden that day. quickly he told his story--how he had been awakened by the midnight visitor kicking the boy's foot as he strode over him. "come on!" called snake and in a moment the entire camp was trailing after him in the direction where dick had seen the old man vanish. but it was like pursuing one of the shadows of the night, and it did not take long, after emerging from the circle of illumination of the fire into the blackness of the surrounding night, to impress all with the idea that a capture was out of the question. "how many horses did he get?" asked bud. "gee! why didn't you wake me, dick?" "i did as soon as i got my wits about me," was the answer. "it all happened so suddenly." "horse thieves don't generally send word they're comin'!" chuckled billee. "but it strikes me you've made a mistake, dick." "a mistake, how?" "callin' this old man, as you say he was, a horse thief." "what else was he?" "i'm not sayin' he wasn't. but he didn't take any of our ponies. count for yourself." it took only a few moments to enumerate the riding and pack animals tethered near the camp and the count was found to total correctly. not an animal was missing. "guess you were too quick for him," commented nort to his brother. "it's lucky you woke up." "it's lucky he kicked my foot!" chuckled dick. "lucky for us and unlucky for him." "somewhat," admitted billee dobb. "well, he come here and he went away, and we aren't none the worse off as far as i can make out. guess i was a little out when i said not to stand guard. but i didn't imagine we were in horse-thieves' country." "hadn't we better have sentry-go from now on?" suggested bud. "'twouldn't be a bad idea," admitted billee. "i'll take first shot at it," said dick. "i'm wide awake now and since i saw this old man i'll know him again if he comes sneaking back." nort and bud were as eager to take the first watch as was dick, but he insisted that it go to him. so, after another supply of light wood was placed near the fire in readiness to throw on and produce a quick blaze, in case of another alarm, the others retired to their blankets and dick was left on guard. once more the silence of the night settled over the camp, a silence broken only by the occasional howl of a distant coyote. dick made himself as comfortable as possible and at first he was able to keep widely awake. then as the fatigues of the day manifested themselves in a desire to go to sleep once more he found himself wishing that the intruder would come back again to furnish excitement to keep him awake. but nothing like that happened. the night continued quiet and in due time it came the turn of bud to relieve dick. later nort relieved bud and finished the night watch which came to an end when a rosy tint in the east announced, the coming of a new day. "well, you didn't catch anybody i see!" chuckled billee as he sauntered down to the water hole to wash for breakfast. "no, nothing happened while i was on duty," announced bud. "he knew better than to come while i was sitting up waiting for him," added nort. "you didn't see anything; did you, dick?" asked yellin' kid of the remaining sentry. "i mean after the first scare." "no, nothing. he didn't come back--whoever he was." "wonder what he came for, anyhow?" mused bud who had started to follow billee to the water hole. suddenly nort, who was walking near his cousin, stooped and picked something up off the ground. it was a soiled bit of paper, evidently part of what had once been a grocery bag. "maybe he came to leave this!" suggested nort as he turned the paper over. "came to leave that--what is it?" asked bud. "it's some sort of a warning, i guess," was the answer. "look!" he held the soiled scrap out to the others. the writing was large and straggling, but it was plain. the warning said: keep away from death valley if you know what's good for you. s. t. chapter vi at dot and dash silently the little circle of ranchers, young and old, gazed at the ominous warning nort had picked up. yellin' kid was the first to speak, following the reading of the message on the dirty piece of bag paper. "well, i'll be horn-swoggled!" voiced the kid in his usual loud tones. billee dobb looked sharply from nort to dick and then at bud. "this any of your doin's?" he asked. "our doings! what do you mean?" challenged bud. "i mean you aren't getting up some stunts for the rodeo--oh, i forgot--that's off," the veteran puncher hastened to add. "but none of you youngsters did this, i hope." "dropped that warning?" questioned dick. "i should say not! i didn't do it!" "nor i!" voiced nort. "i picked it up, and i can see, billee, you might naturally be suspicious of me as one who knew just where to locate this piece of paper. but i had nothing to do with it." "nor i!" said bud. "'tisn't my idea of the right kind of a joke to play." "you never can tell what young fellows will do," murmured old billee. "but i'm glad to hear you three say you had nothing to do with it. sort of relieves me." "'tisn't my kind of writing," went on dick as though he thought, because he had given the first alarm and had been, in fact, the only one to view the midnight intruder, that more suspicion might attach to him as the joker than to any one else. "i'm not much on writin' myself," declared yellin' kid, "and while i might say i'd be proud if i could sling a pen the way this feller did, i want it distinctly understood i didn't have nothin' to do with it." "you needn't tell the folks in the next county about it," gently chided billee. then he took the paper from snake purdee, who was curiously examining it, and subjected it to a close scrutiny. "make anything of it, billee?" asked yellin' kid endeavoring to put the soft pedal on his voice. "the writin' ain't that of anybody i know," said the veteran, "and i can't, offhand, recall anybody whose initials are s.t. but tim mellick, who keeps the store over at palmo, has paper bags of the same kind of stuff as this." "i don't believe that will be much of a clew," said dick. "most paper bags are alike, and store keepers get their supply of them from a wholesale house that supplies a hundred customers." "no, i don't reckon we can do much toward pickin' up the trail of this fellow from that scrap," admitted billee. "so the next best thing to do is to get breakfust." "that's right--let's eat!" exclaimed snake. "but you aren't going to throw that away; are you?" asked dick as he saw billee folding the ragged piece of brown paper containing the sinister warning. "throw it away? oh, no! of course i'm not. i'm going to keep it until i can find out what it means." "what it means is plain enough," said bud. "somebody doesn't want us to go on to death valley and dot and dash ranch." "all the more reason why we should go on there and see what it means!" cried nort. "that's the talk!" echoed his brother and cousin. "if they're trying to scare us away, they'll find we don't scare worth a cent," added bud. "it goes to prove, though," remarked dick, "that billee's story is likely to be borne out. i mean that there's something queer going on at death valley." "queer is right!" assented bud. "though whether this is a warning in our interests, sent by one who doesn't want to see any of us get put out of business with the poisoned water, or whether it's a warning to keep away so we won't discover some crooked business--that's something we can't answer." "not yet," said billee dobb significantly. "but we'll soon be able to. i've got my mind made up, now. i'm going to see this thing through to the finish!" and he smote his right fist into his open left hand with a sound like the report of a small gun. "that's the way to talk!" cried yellin' kid. "i wish i'd had a sight of the fellow who dropped that warning," he went on. "he would be sitting down here now talking turkey and tellin' what it was all about. why didn't you call me first, dick?" "i raised the alarm as soon as i could wake myself up," was the answer. "but i guess we were all sleeping pretty sound." while snake was frying the bacon and making the coffee, some of the others cast about the camp in a circle, seeking some clew to the midnight visitor. but nothing could be found that shed any light on the mystery. it was evident that the man, whoever he was, had ridden to the camp, had picketed his horse out some distance and then had sneaked in among the prostrate, sleeping figures. evidently his object was merely to leave the warning, and not to rob or commit some more serious crime. and his touching the foot of dick was an accident. then, seeing he had caused an alarm, the man slipped away, dropping his note. puzzle their heads as they did, none of the six could recall any one, either among their friends or enemies, whose initials were s.t. and dick's suggestion, that the symbols of a name were only assumed, seemed to be generally accepted. breakfast was eaten, camp was broken and once more, after another casual casting about for possible clews to the intruder, the cavalcade was under way. but one more night separated them from the vicinity of death valley and the new ranch. "and the sooner we can get there and begin checking up on some of the things we've heard the better i'll like it," remarked bud. "i guess we all will," echoed nort. "i only hope we'll find something tangible, and not a lot more mysteries," spoke dick. "it'll probably turn out to be poisoned springs or bad water," suggested yellin' kid. "that's the most reasonable explanation." "um!" was all billee dobb would reply to that. they made rather good time that day, as the trail was now downward for they had passed the range of low hills outside of the valley. and when night came, and they were once more camped out, they knew that the following day would see them at dot and dash ranch. "what about standing guard to-night?" asked bud of his cousins when camp was established and a good supper had been eaten. "'twon't do any harm to have sentry-go," agreed dick. "but the chances are a hundred to one against anything happening to disturb us," said nort. "that fellow isn't likely to come back." "i agree with you," said bud. "but, all the same, i think we'll all sleep sounder if we stand watch and watch." "it'll be our turn," declared snake. "we three old gazaboes will take turns. you kids had last night. this is ours." it was no more than fair and the boy ranchers were glad enough to let the men act as sentries. so billee, snake and yellin' kid arranged it among themselves, leaving the night to uninterrupted slumber for the three boys. "that is, we'll sleep if nothing wakes us," said bud. and nothing did. nor did any of the cowboys, who took turns staying awake during the night, report any untoward occurrences. but in spite of that fact when bud went to the grub box to get out some bacon he found, stuck in a pack, a folded brown paper, like the one on which the other warning was written. and this message was of like import with the other. it said: don't go to dot and dash. however there was no signature to this. but none was needed to make it certain that it was from the same hand. "well, what do you know about that!" cried nort when he saw what bud had found. "how'd he get in camp to leave that warning without being seen or heard?" asked dick. "guess it's up to us," admitted billee with a sheepish smile. "we old geezers must 'a' been asleep at the switch. no tellin' which one it was," he went on, "'ceptin' i'll swear nobody slipped past when i was on guard." "and nobody came into camp while i was sentry," added snake. "that goes for me, too!" came from yellin' kid. "then we'll all have to plead guilty," chuckled billee. "anyhow here's the warnin' and it looks as if this fellow, whoever he is, was follerin' us up to discourage us from going on." "well, he shan't discourage me!" exclaimed bud. "nor me!" came in a duet from nort and dick. "that's the ticket! then we'll go on!" said billee. "but i would like to know," he murmured, "how this chap can sneak in and out of a camp without rousing somebody. i sure would!" however there was nothing more to be done. and after making sure no clews could be picked up, the second warning was placed with the first, in billee's big leather wallet, and the travelers prepared to resume the trail. they were now in a wilder and more lonesome country than any they had ever before visited. it was distinctly the "bad lands," but often in such a region can be found isolated places where abundant water and herbage offer ideal sites for cattle raising. such, mr. merkel had said, was his new dot and dash ranch. and it was apparent to the boys and their older companions, as they rode along, that the valley was a good locality for raising cattle. "this must be the place," said bud as they began riding down the opposite side of the slope they had climbed to cross the low range of mountains. "it's just as dad described it. i'll show these papers to whoever's in charge and they'll know we have come to take over the ranch." he tapped in his pocket a bundle of documents which his father had given him to show the transfer of authority. "yes, that's dot and dash," said billee as he recalled some of the familiar landmarks. "this is the place where i used to punch cattle." "seems to be a right nice sort of a place," murmured snake. "and i reckon them tales about all the cattle droppin' dead are fakes. look at that herd," and he pointed to a collection of dots on a distant hill. "nobody said _all_ the cows died!" retorted billee. "and maybe the bad spell, whatever it was, has worked itself out. i hope so. but there's dot and dash all right," and he waved to a collection of ranch buildings that came into view with a turn of the trail. in a short time they had traversed the slope and were on the level and green floor of a pleasant valley, long and narrow, yet wide enough to give space to several big ranches. the hills were barren and rugged in some places, and wooded in others. on up to the ranch rode the cavalcade, the thoughts of the boys busy with many things. it was rather a tamer entry than they had counted on after billee's stories and the receipt of the two dramatic warnings. "guess we aren't going to have any trouble after all," said dick as they rode their horses to the hitching rail, made the reins fast and dismounted to enter the main house. "it's quiet enough," said nort "'tis, for a fact," echoed bud. "doesn't seem to be anybody around here for me to serve my possession papers on!" he chuckled. "hello! anybody home?" he called loudly. there was no answer save the echoes of his voice through the rambling building. "give 'em a call, kid, you can make yourself heard," suggested snake, and the yeller let out a ringing shout. still there was no reply and the silence was beginning to get on the nerves of the boys when billee, who had been roaming around, came in with a queer look on his face. "what's the matter?" asked bud. "there's a dead man outside in the yard," was the quiet answer of the veteran puncher. chapter vii sam tarbell's story this news, so startling, coming as it did after the strange silence that seemed to wrap dot and dash in a pall, and following the talk that had been going on the last few days concerning the sinister aspect of the situation, was enough to startle any one. and the boy ranchers were no exception. "a dead man?" gasped bud. "who is he?" nort wanted to know. "who killed him?" was dick's question. to these inquiries old billee dobb returned no answer. as for yellin' kid and snake purdee, they just stood in the middle of the deserted living room of the ranch house and stared at the old puncher. death did not frighten, nor was it anything new to the cowboys. yet billee's news was startling. "let's go have a look at him," suggested yellin' kid, in no whit lowering his voice as he might reasonably be expected to do under the circumstances. "where is he? do you know him, billee?" "never saw him this side of sole leather as far as i know," answered the veteran. "but he's out there by the corral, and here's another thing. if we're going to turn our ponies loose into that same corral the fence has got to be mended. 'twon't hold a yearling as it is now." "that can be 'tended to later," remarked snake. "let's go have a look at this poor gazaboo you say has cashed in." "it looks as if death valley was living up to its name," said nort to bud as he and the other lads followed the men out of the silent and deserted house. "can't tell yet," was bud's rejoinder. "this may be just a natural death, and somebody that has no connection with this ranch. lots of passing strangers stop at our place and he may have stopped here." "well, even then, that doesn't say what killed him," protested nort. "we'll soon find out," went on bud. "come on." billee dobb was leading the way toward his startling discovery, and a moment later the whole outfit from diamond x came upon the body. it lay, as billee had said, near a corral the fence of which was much in need of repairs. the man was a typical cowboy, with a bright red neckerchief and sheepskin chaps. his gun had fallen from the holster and lay beside him. his horse was nowhere to be seen, and a cowboy without a pony between his legs, or at least in his immediate vicinity, is like hamlet with the melancholy dane left out. "there he is," said billee in a low voice. snake and yellin' kid stopped in their tracks. but bud, who, perhaps, was too young to feel any squeamishness at the proximity to death, hurried forward and knelt beside the motionless figure. seeing what their chum had done, nort and dick started to follow. but they were halted, when they had almost reached the man, by bud's voice exclaiming: "he isn't dead at all! he's breathing!" "he is?" cried nort. "sure! he isn't dead at all! get me some water. we ought to have a doctor, but maybe we can pull him around until we can find one. but get some water--_pronto_!" dick slung his canteen around, pulled out the stopper and, an instant later, was kneeling beside bud and the stranger. nort helped bud, on the opposite side, support the man's head, which appeared to be but loosely attached to his body and the boys finally succeeded in forcing a little water between the almost lifeless lips. "we ought to have some sort of a stimulant," said bud as he noticed a faint flickering of the man's eyelids, as though life was struggling hard to return to the frame it had almost decided to vacate. "i got some aromatic ammonia in my saddle bags," said dick. "your mother put it in with a lot of other medicine, thinking we might need it." "we do, now, and mighty bad!" exclaimed bud. "rustle it here, dick." a little later the powerful heart stimulant, mixed with a little water, was being administered to the stranger, and when the fumes of it had done their work the fluttering of his eyelids became stronger. "he's comin' 'round," observed billee who, with his two older companions, had drawn nearer to observe what the boys were doing. "looks like you didn't call the turn on him after all," said yellin' kid, for once in his life at least lowering his voice. "i hope i didn't," said billee. "i'd like him to pull through. maybe he can tell us what's wrong with dot and dash." "don't look like there was anything wrong," commented snake, letting his eyes rove away from the prostrate stranger to the wide reaches of the ranch and the valley in which it was so snugly located. "this seems to be a right proper place to raise cattle. i only wish it was mine. i'm tired of being just a puncher. i'd like to own this place. i think it's all bunk what you been tellin' us, billee." "you wait," was all billee would reply. "you can't tell by squintin' at a toad how much wool there is on him, and you can't give a ranch a good name just by lookin' it over. you wait!" by this time the ammonia had completed its work and restored to consciousness the prostrate stranger. he was able to sit up now, without being supported by bud and his cousins. and as he supported himself on one hand, while with the other he reached for his fallen gun, he murmured: "who are you and what happened?" "stranger," pronounced billee, who, by common consent seemed to be the spokesman, "we can answer the first part of your question but not the last. all we know is we arrived here to find you--er--stretched out like you was takin' a sleep." billee had a certain delicacy about mentioning death, now that the man was so evidently alive. "as for us, we're from mr. merkel's ranch--diamond x--and we're sent here to take charge of dot and dash. you may have heard of us and you may not." "oh, yes, i've heard of you," was the somewhat unexpected answer. "in fact i was waiting for you to come to take charge." "then you aren't a stranger here?" asked bud. "well, i been here a few days, that's all. i was mr. barter's foreman up to the time he quit, and sold out, so he told me. he asked me to stay here and turn the place over to the new owner. merkel--yes, that's the name. i was away when the deal went through." "i have the papers here," said bud, reaching for the documents in his pocket. "'tain't necessary. i'll take your word for it, my boy. and now that you're in charge i'm going to vamoose. i've had full and plenty." he struggled to his feet, plainly showing how weak he was, swayed unsteadily for a moment and then staggered to a bench on the shady side of the bunk house not far from the corral. "if i could have another nip of whatever that was you gave me--" he murmured. bud gave him the remainder of the ammonia and it brought a tinge of color to the tanned and leathery cheeks of the puncher. "i guess i can light out now," he went on. "have you seen my pony--oh, i forgot--he's dead. well----" he looked at the untenanted corral and then to the bunch of tethered animals the outfit from diamond x had brought with them. "look here!" exclaimed bud. "do you mind telling us what happened? we have heard strange stories about this ranch and don't know whether or not to believe them. we found you stretched out and----" "sort of took me for dead; didn't you?" asked the man. now that he had given the opening billee had no hesitation in replying: "we sure thought you had cashed in." "well, i nearly did," said the man. "i believe i would have been dead in a short time if you hadn't come along. my horse is dead, i'm sure of that. and how i managed to drag myself here after he collapsed under me is more than i know. but i did, hoping i might get some help. then i passed out. that's all i know until i found myself sitting up and drinking camphor water." "'tisn't camphor," said bud. "it's aromatic ammonia." "oh," murmured the man. "well, sort of tasted like the old camphor bottle my mother used when she got faint. however, i'm much obliged. and, now that you're in possession i'll be traveling on. only--my horse----" he was as lost without a steed as a sailor would be without a ship, and he was plainly at a loss how to proceed. "look here!" broke in bud, who, as the representative of his father could speak with some authority, "we can't let you go this way. in the first place you're not fit to travel on, and, in the second place we want to hear your story. after that maybe we can fix you up with a pony if you want to leave." "i'll tell you my story all right," said the man, readily enough. "and thanks for the loan of a horse. as for staying here--after what happened--i guess i don't feel much like it." "what happened?" asked dick, eagerly. "lots of things, but the main one was that i nearly passed out on account of some deviltry. but i'd better begin at the beginning." "'twould seem the most sensible way," said old billee. "in the first place what's your name?" "sam tarbell," was the answer. in an instant bud, dick and nort exchanged glances. like a flash came to them the memory of the warning paper, signed with the initials s.t. they would fit this man's name--sam tarbell. but if billee, snake and yellin' kid thought of this coincidence they did not remark upon it. "sam tarbell; eh?" murmured billee. "i used to know a feller of that name once. only he was bill tarbell. i don't reckon he could 'a' been your brother; could he?" sam tarbell shook his head. "i never had a brother," he answered. "well, as i was saying, i been acting as foreman for mr. barter a few days back, and when he sold out i agreed to stay and deliver the ranch to the new owners." "what became of tim dolan, who was foreman, and all the other punchers?" asked snake. "takes more'n a foreman, which you say you are now, to run a shebang like this. what happened to them?" "well," said sam slowly, "some died and the rest, including dolan, lit out and that left me. dolan was foreman, like you said, but he vamoosed in a hurry and i almost cashed in when----" he suddenly interrupted his story to gaze off across the level plain. the others, following his glance, saw riding along an old man on a somewhat ancient steed. he was an old man with a white beard and flowing, white locks, and as he glimpsed him sam exclaimed: "there's the old man now!" chapter viii the round-up sam tarbell suddenly arose from the bench where he had been sitting. but if he had any intention of starting after the old man on the distant horse his resolution was better than his performance. for he had to sink weakly back to his seat, and his face, that had assumed its natural color after the ammonia, now went white again. "take it easy!" advised old billee in soothing tones. "guess i'll have to," and sam gratefully accepted a dipper of water that nort handed him, getting the fluid from a pail that sat on a shelf outside the bunkhouse. "do you want one of us to chase after that old man?" asked bud, while dick inquired: "did he have anything to do with knocking you out?" "no, to both questions, boys," responded sam. "you can chase that old man for all of me, but i don't think you'll catch him. he's as slippery as an eel. as for his having anything to do with me being knocked out in such a queer way, i can't honestly say he had anything to do with it. i just happened to see him 'fore my horse crumpled under me, and he was riding away when i started to stagger back here as best i could. i hollered at him to give me a lift, but either he didn't hear me or didn't want to. it was just a coincidence that he happened along while i was telling you my story." wonderingly the outfit from diamond x watched the old man slowly riding into the foothills, amid the woods of which he was soon lost to view. and the same thought came to all of them--the memory of the old man who had aroused dick that night, when, next morning, the mysterious warning was found. "do you know that old man's name?" asked bud. sam tarbell shook his head. "he's a stranger to me," he answered. "but i've seen him around off and on what little time i been here. i'm beginning to wish i'd never taken the job of puncher or foreman here at dot and dash. i've had nothing but bad luck from the start." "you mean being knocked out like you was dead?" asked yellin' kid who, now that there was no mourning to be done, had switched back to his loud tones. "lots of things besides that," answered sam. "i lost one good gun, lamed a good pony and got shook up bad when my other horse, the one that died under me, stepped into a prairie dog's hole and throwed me. nothing but bad luck. i'm through!" "don't blame you for wanting to quit," remarked bud. "but i hope you'll stay a little longer. as i said you're not fit to travel and----" "you're right there!" interrupted sam. "i'm as weak as a new-born calf. but after i get my strength i'm going to vamoose. this ranch is no place for a healthy man--or a sick one either, if you come to that. but i'll tell you what i started to, and give you all the help i can in rounding things up here. then you can decide for yourselves whether it's worth your while." "this is death valley all right; ain't it?" asked billee dobb. "you said it, stranger! there's been a lot of deaths here, so i been told. i never would have come if i had known what i know now." "just what do you know?" asked dick. "do you know what caused the deaths?" bud inquired. "no, i can't say i do," was the somewhat hesitant answer. "and that's the mysterious part of it. only i know i came mighty near passing out and i don't want to do it again." "suppose you finish telling us all about it," suggested bud, the while he looked in the direction taken by the old man who had disappeared. but the picturesque figure was out of sight. "well, as i was mentioning, i've been knocking around the country quite a bit," resumed sam. "i'd have a job first on one ranch and then on another. you fellows know how it is," he said, looking at snake and yellin' kid. "sure!" they murmured. "well, finally i ended up here and i must say mr. barter treated me all right, as he did his other hands. but when cattle began to be found dead all over the place, and when some men and their horses began to pass out, i began to get worried. so did a lot of others and they left so fast it was hard work to run the place with the few hands left. "i was just getting ready to light out and look for another job when a man came to look the dot and dash over with a view, so mr. barter said, to buying it. right after that dolan, who had agreed to stay, quit sudden like, so i promised to stick and help the boss out and i did. the place was sold, and you say your dad bought it?" he asked, looking at bud. "yes, this is now part of the merkel holdings," was the answer. "though my father didn't know anything about the queer deaths on the place when he agreed to buy it. he didn't even know that this was called death valley." "not until he got back to diamond x and i told him," put in billee. "then he said he wasn't going to back out, 'specially after these boys begged for a chance to chase the jinx." "well, they'll get all the chance they want," remarked sam. "no, i don't reckon mr. barter would tell the bad name his place had when he was trying to sell it. i don't say it was right of him to hold back the news, but lots of men would have done what he did. for myself, i never had a chance to talk to your father, so i couldn't have put him wise if i wanted to. dolan might have, but he didn't. and i guess even mr. barter thought the thing would pass over." "what thing?" asked dick. "you mean the series of deaths?" "that's it. they were mighty queer." "i told 'em that," said billee. "i used to work here myself years ago," he added. "i thought maybe, after all these years, the bad luck might have passed. but after what happened to you----" "just what did happen?" asked bud. "we want to get down to brass tacks on this thing if we can." "'twon't take long to tell you," said sam. "as i mentioned, i agreed with mr. barter to stay on here and look after what few cattle remained until the new owner--that's your dad," and he looked at bud--"could come along and take possession. "well, i was left pretty much alone here, but i didn't mind that, for i'm used to rustling for myself. mr. barter left when he got his money, i s'pose, and the cattle wasn't much trouble. there's only a small herd left, and i didn't bother much with 'em--just rode out now and then to see they wasn't being run off. which they wasn't. but this morning i thought i'd ride to the far end of the range to see if there was any fences needed fixing, so's i could tell the new owner. "i was riding along when, all of a sudden, my horse began acting queer. then, 'fore i knew it, he just sort of crumpled up and i just had time to jump or he'd have fallen with me under him. and as i went down i began to feel sort of queer myself. one of the last things i remember seeing in the distance was that old man riding along. then i went down and out. "that's all i remember, but i must have had sense enough to start either to walk or crawl back here, and evidently i arrived, for you found me. that's all i know." "but what knocked you out?" excitedly cried bud. "and what killed your horse?" "you can search me!" was the frank answer. "i didn't look the horse over after he died, to see what bit him. as for me, i don't know what ailed me." "maybe the old man shot you and the horse," suggested nort. "i wouldn't swear the horse hasn't a bullet in him, for i didn't examine him," stated sam. "but i didn't hear any gun, and i know i got no holes in me." "then it was bad water!" said snake. "what's that?" sam inquired, not comprehending. "you and your horse must 'a' drunk from some poisoned spring," went on snake, explaining how this theory had been advanced among his companions to account for the mysterious deaths at dot and dash. "bad water; eh?" murmured sam. "well, i certainly did take a drink at a spring, and so did the horse. but it's a spring i always have patronized, so to speak, and it's mighty queer if it would be all right yesterday and poison to-day. mighty queer!" "the old man----" began nort. "he wasn't nowhere near the spring," interrupted sam. "i don't believe you got the right dope." "well, there's something queer around here, that's sure," declared bud merkel, "and we're here to find out what it is! we'll be glad to have you stay and help us solve the mystery. we need some ranch hands and i'd be glad to take you on." "thanks. i've got to stay, anyhow, a few days until i get to feeling more like myself. after that we'll talk business. but i warn you it's dangerous here." "we knew that before we came," said bud, quietly. much puzzled, and not a little alarmed over the strange story, the members of the outfit from diamond x now began putting things to rights about the ranch house in preparation to taking over dot and dash. while snake and yellin' kid began to repair the corral fence, bud, his cousins and old billee brought their food and supplies into the ranch house and began to arrange for supper, since it was now late afternoon. a look in the bunkhouse showed it to be clean and in good shape. "i'll take charge out there, with kid, snake and this new hand," said old billee, referring to sam tarbell who had been put in a bunk the better to regain his strength. "you boys'll stay here," and he indicated the ranch house. "it might be a good idea to divide our force up that way," agreed bud. "then, in case the jinx comes it won't get all of us at once." "according to the stories," said billee, "nothing ever occurs inside. it's all out of doors. well, we'll see what happens." in spite of the sinister cloud of fear that hung over the place, the adventurers managed to make a good meal, and when the horses had been turned into the repaired corral preparations were made for the night. both parties--the one in the bunkhouse and the boys in the main building--decided to keep watch all night. but their precautions were not needed. nothing happened. the sun rose bright and warm over dot and dash next morning and sam tarbell said he felt like a new man after his sleep. "the first thing to do," decided bud after matters had been talked over at the breakfast table, "is to have a sort of round-up. i want to see just how many head of cattle are left, and what the chances are for getting more. also we want to give the whole ranch the once-over." "that's right," agreed the veteran billee. "shall we all go on the round-up?" asked dick. "no," said bud after a moment of thought, "we'll have to leave some one here in charge. but in time each one of us must know all there is to know about dot and dash--i mean just how it's laid out, where the water-holes are, what shape the fences are in and all that. it will take a little time, but this first round-up will tell us some things we ought to know." "the boy's right!" fairly shouted yellin' kid. accordingly, when it was decided to leave snake, nort and the still somewhat invalid sam at the ranch house, the others started out. nort made the best of being obliged to stay. the choice had fallen to him by lot, as it was decided this was the fairest way of making a division of forces, since other things were equal. "but you got to tell me everything that happens when you get back!" nort stipulated to his brother and bud as they rode away. "sure!" they promised. the three who were left in charge of the ranch buildings watched the others ride off over the hills and then, as there was plenty to do in cleaning up the place, and getting it ready for a number of new hands that must be hired, the two from diamond x got busy. sam was able to help with light work. it was while nort was busy making a checkup of the household articles on hand that he heard the sound of a horse out near the corral, and, going to the door, saw dismounting, the same old man to whom sam had called attention the night before. "howdy, stranger!" the ancient one greeted nort, cheerfully. "how are you?" responded the boy, courteously. "are you looking for some one?" "yes," was the answer. "i'm looking for the boss. i want to warn him and all with him to get away from here as quick as they can! you don't know the danger you are in. you had better leave quick!" and then, though it seemed to take from the force of his words, the old man strode over to the water pail and took a long drink. chapter ix the queer old man nort was doing some quick thinking. and the burden of his thoughts was to this effect: "bud and dick have ridden off to see if they can solve the mystery, but along comes this queer old man to me, and maybe he holds the key to open the lock. it would be just my good luck!" so it was with a feeling of elation, rather than otherwise, that nort watched the aged stranger finish his drink and then come back to where the boy stood near the ranch house. snake and sam were in the bunk house. "why should we go away from here?" asked nort, trying to speak easily and naturally. "and what is the danger?" "are you the boss?" was the quick retort. "no, but the boss is my cousin, and he and i, with my brother, are going to run this ranch." "you'd better run away before you try to run it!" chuckled the old man with what seemed to be sinister humor. "but you can't say i didn't warn you." "warn us of what?" asked nort, a bit sharply. "what do you mean by coming here trying to scare me?" "i'm not trying to scare you, my boy, i'm just trying to warn you. those here before you wouldn't listen to me, and what happened to them? they died, that's what happened. now i'm offering you a chance for your life and it seems to rile you." "oh, no, i'm not mad," and nort smiled a little. "but i would like to know what you are driving at. before we came here we heard stories about the danger of dot and dash, but no one knew just what the danger was. now you seem to----" "oh, no, i don't, young man!" interrupted the stranger, running his skinny hands through his straggly, white hair. "i don't know what caused all those deaths any more than you do. but i do know if those who are gone--i mean the humans now and not the cattle--i mean if they had taken my elixer they'd be alive to-day. there she is--elixer of life!" and from what seemed to be one of many pockets in his loose coat he pulled out a bottle of dark liquid. before nort had a chance to make reply the stranger, holding up the bottle and affectionately patting it from time to time, went on with: "there she is! elixer of life! made from roots, berries and herbs i gathered myself. compounded in a secret manner after a recipe given me by an old indian. it soothes the nerves, strengthens the muscles, clears the brain and prolongs life. only a dollar a bottle and i can let you have as many as you like. guaranteed to act as specified and harmless enough so you can give it to babies! there you are--the elixer of life!" it was so labeled--spelled with an e instead of i, and as the old man insisted this was right the boys let it go at that. so the stuff remained "elixer" to the end of the chapter. he produced another bottle from somewhere in the recesses of his long coat and, holding the two phials aloft, advanced upon nort with a strange light shining in his eyes. from a distance it must have looked to an observer as if the old man was approaching the boy to hurl the bottles at him with evil intent, for they were high in the air, and over nort's head. and snake purdee must have taken this view of it, for, a moment later, standing in the door of the bunkhouse, the cowboy drew his gun, aimed it at the aged stranger and cried: "stand still or i'll bore you!" the command was so threatening and snake was in such a good position to shoot that, for a moment, nort feared a bullet would end the matter. but the old man wheeled about, took in the situation at a glance and mildly said, as he lowered the bottles: "no harm intended at all. i'm only trying to save this young man's life. you've got no call to shoot me." "oh," exclaimed snake rather lamely, seeing how the matter stood. "well, i don't just like your attitude, and----" "he's only selling a patent medicine," broke in nort with a smile. "it's the elixer of life." "i make it myself, from roots, berries and herbs," eagerly went on the old man. "only a dollar a bottle or six for five dollars. if them as were here before you had taken it they'd be alive to-day. but they were scoffers. they spurned me and look what happened to them." "i've seen you before, old man!" said sam and there was something menacing in his tone. "i've seen you around this ranch a lot, and i've heard some say you was always around when something happened--i mean when men and cattle were found dead. i saw you just before my own horse died and i passed out and now i want you to explain. i've got you now!" he made a grab for the old man, who did not seek to elude sam, but stood quietly while the cowboy held one arm and took out a gun with which he covered the inventor of the elixer. "now, son," said the old man, soothingly, "don't get excited. i haven't done any harm and i don't intend to. it's true you've seen me around this ranch a lot--i live a few miles from here back in the woods. and i've been around when there's been deaths. but i was trying to stop death--not bring it about. only i was always too late. they never would listen to me--them cowboys. and i was around when i saw your horse go down. i rode back, later, thinking i could sell you a bottle of my life elixer before you passed away, but i got there too late. i saw that you had expired so i went on." "i'm a pretty live man for a dead one!" chuckled sam. "but what's your game, anyhow?" he had released his hold of the aged one and had put his gun back in the holster as snake had done. and then nort made, unseen by the stranger, a motion to his two companions which served to explain matters. nort made a circular motion with one finger up near his head as though to indicate wheels going around. "oh!" softly murmured snake, understandingly, and he was echoed by sam with: "i'm wise!" while, as the aged one again raised his elixer bottles on high nort with his lips only said the words: "the poor old man's a bit cracked!" and so it seemed. he was one of the many harmless but well-meaning "herb doctors" to be found in every community. he had a firm faith in his own concoction. "be warned in time, gentlemen," he went on, still offering the elixer to nort. "you are alive now, but you may be dead to-morrow. this will save you. one dollar a bottle or six for five." he now held the two bottles in one hand while, with the other, he went searching through his coat for more. but nort stopped him with a gesture. "two are enough for now," he said, soothingly, handing over a two dollar bill. "but can you tell us anything about the causes for the deaths that have taken place on dot and dash ranch?" "yes, young man, i can," was the firm answer as the bill was tucked away inside the hat band, "i know all about those deaths. they were caused by a failure to heed my warnings and take this elixer of life! "be warned in time, gentlemen," went on the old man as he moved over to his horse. "there are three of you, and you have only bought two bottles. at least each one should have his own. i may not be back here and----" "oh, shucks! gimme a bottle!" ejaculated snake. "and see if you can't tell us what killed these folks and the cattle." "i can tell you--yes--certainly!" was the quick retort as another bottle of the dark liquid was produced and another dollar added to the hat band bank. "what was it then?" asked snake, eagerly, while nort and sam waited for the answer. "the hand of fate!" was the solemn answer. "but now you are safe. you have the elixer of life and so death cannot harm you. i bid you good day!" before they could stop him, even had they been so inclined, which they were not, the old man left nort and his chums holding their bottles of elixer and rode away on his sorry looking nag, crooning something into his ample beard. "well, what do you make of that?" asked snake when the stranger--they had not thought to ask his name--was beyond hearing. "he's just a harmless crank," said nort. "an old herb doctor." "that's what i think," chimed in sam. "though at first i was a bit suspicious of him. but i guess he doesn't mean anything. and he don't know anything about the deaths here." "if he does he isn't telling," decided nort. "well," said snake slowly, "i'm not superstitious, but as long as i bought this stuff i might as well sample it." he pulled the cork from the bottle, and was about to take a drink when nort, with a quick motion, knocked the flask down, almost sending it to the ground. chapter x dead cattle "what's the idea?" spluttered snake, for he had his mouth set for a drink, and did not appear to like being balked. "better wait until you find out what's in the bottle before you sample it," advised nort. "why, didn't the old gazaboo tell us what it was--elixer of life? some sort of tonic, i reckon, and, believe me, boy, i need something right now!" "what you need is grub!" broke in sam. "i'm in the same boat. i'm getting my appetite back," he added with a look at nort, whose turn it was to get the dinner. "well, maybe this will give me an appetite for baked beans," suggested snake. "more likely to take your appetite away," went on nort. "this may be a good, safe stomach medicine, and, again, it may be deadly poison. i want it analyzed by a chemist before i take any of it. and, even then, i don't believe i'll try any though it may be safe. i don't need it." "poison; eh?" mused snake. "do you think----" "no, i don't think this harmless, crack-brained old man had anything to do with the deaths that are said to have taken place at dot and dash," interrupted nort, guessing at snake's implied question. "but a crank is a dangerous man to have mix your drinks. he may have brewed this from honest herbs, or it may be an extract of toadstools. i'm going slow at it." "well, i guess i'd better, too," agreed snake, ruefully, "i'm glad you didn't let me sample it, nort." "it's better to be sure than sorry," said the boy. "is there a chemist in los pompan," and he nodded in the direction of the town that lay nearest to the ranch. "i don't believe there is," sam answered. "but there's a doctor and maybe he can tell whether this stuff is safe or not," and he gazed at one of the elixer bottles he had picked up off the bench where nort had set them. "safe or dangerous, we don't need it," went on the boy. "i only bought it to lead the old man on. but we didn't get much out of him." "no," assented snake. "his answers were crazy enough. guess we'll have to wait until billee and the others come back to find out what's the real secret of death valley." "maybe we won't then," suggested sam, in a low voice. "do you mean they won't come back?" asked nort with a sudden increase in his heart beats. "oh, _some_ of 'em are bound to come back," was the not very cheering reply. "the deaths ain't wholesale like that. and maybe nothing won't happen to any of 'em," which was sufficiently clear and hopeful if not very grammatical. "but, even if they all come back, which is more than likely," went on the most recent foreman of dot and dash, "that ain't saying they'll find out the secret." "no, i suppose not," agreed nort. "well, we'll hope for the best." they resumed their labors of getting the group of ranch buildings in shipshape against the return of bud and the others. sam had agreed to stay for a while to aid in the check-over and as soon as possible, as nort knew, mr. merkel intended to add to his cattle already on the ranch, and hire more men to look after them. "i wish we'd found out that old geezer's name and more about him before we let him vamoose," said snake as he worked away with nort. "yes," agreed the boy, "but so much was happening, and he was so queer, that i forgot about it." "guess we all did. well, we can pick him up again when we need him--if we ever do," chuckled snake. "i mean if the doctor says this here elixer is any good." "if there isn't any harm in it that's the most i expect," came from nort. "as for finding the old man----" "he's an eel, i tell you!" broke in sam. "i've seen him more then once, riding along, that is some time ago, 'fore i was knocked out. but when i tried to come up to him he'd vanish. and to look at it you wouldn't think that cayuse of his was any quicker'n a snail!" "he must have some hiding place," suggested snake. "maybe," admitted sam. "but i don't like that _hombre_ and you hear what i'm tellin' you!" dinner was served, and eaten with hearty appetites in spite of what had happened and what might take place later. then more work was done about the place, and as the afternoon waned nort began to get rather anxious for the return of those who had gone on the round-up. it was not a round-up in the real sense of the word--but merely a riding around of the place to size it up--to ascertain the number of head of cattle on the ranch, to find out the location of water holes, the best pasture, look to the condition of the fences and such matters as that. "and i wish, while they were at it, they'd get a chink cook," said nort to whom had fallen the task of washing the dishes. "any chance of getting a yellow man in los pompon?" he asked sam. "oh, sure, i should think so. if you can get him to stay." "why wouldn't he stay?" nort wanted to know. and then he remembered and added: "you mean on account of possible deaths?" "sure! that's it. them chinks is powerful leery about anything like that. but maybe we can get one fresh smuggled over from mexico and he won't be so particular." "that's right," agreed nort as he recalled how desperately eager the celestials were to be smuggled into the united states. it was getting dusk, and the three were a bit anxious as they prepared the evening meal, for, as yet, the prospectors, as they might be called, had not returned. nort was going to suggest that perhaps it might be well to ride out and see if his brother and the others were in sight when the clatter of horses' feet was heard and into the ranch yard came riding the cavalcade. a quick count showed not one missing, and it was with a relieved heart that nort greeted bud and dick. "anything happen?" asked snake. "nary a thing!" boomed out yellin' kid. "it was as peaceful as a sunday school picnic. but this is sure some dandy ranch." "that's right!" chimed in bud. "we didn't have time to go all over it," he went on to those who had been left behind. "but we saw enough to convince us that dad made no mistake in buying it--that is if we can clear out the jinx." "but you didn't see any signs of him--or it?" asked nort. "who?" inquired dick. "i mean the jinx." "no, not a thing. didn't even see a dead calf, and, as we know, they're common enough on a ranch. everything was lovely." "it sure is a good buy," went on bud. "of course it's a bit run down, and the fences here and there need mending. but there's plenty of water and what cattle there are seem to be in good shape. when we buy a few more herds, and hire some more men to help us, we'll be sitting pretty." "then we didn't need to do so much worrying?" questioned nort. "seems not." "and that warning was all tommyrot!" added dick with a laugh. "hello, what's this?" and he picked up one of the bottles of elixer, for by this time the whole party was in the ranch house, and saw the three flasks on the table. "stuff your brother bought to save lives!" chuckled snake, and the story was told. "an old man, half crazy; eh?" mused billee as he listened. "who is he and what about him?" "doesn't seem to amount to much, really," stated nort. "but i thought we'd better have this stuff analyzed." "sure!" assented billee, and, taking the three bottles he locked them in a wall cupboard and put the key in his pocket. there was much to talk about at dot and dash that night. nort related the coming and going of the vender of life's elixer, and on their part bud and dick told of the scenes about the ranch, and added to their first statements that it was an ideal place to raise cattle. "and there weren't any signs of sudden deaths?" asked nort. "nary a one. it's a shame to call this death valley," declared bud. the week that followed was a busy one and there was plenty of work for all hands, including sam tarbell who, when he found that there was no sudden passing away of any of his new friends or the remaining cattle, decided to stay and work for dot and dash. a careful examination was made in the vicinity where sam had "keeled over," as he expressed it, and where his horse had died. nothing suspicious was discovered, however, and there was no way to account for the strange happening. the animal appeared to have died a natural death. "of course," sam said, "my pony might of dropped dead from heart disease, and when he fell i was throwed off and hit my head on a rock. that's what might have knocked me out." "it's very possible," agreed bud. arrangements were under way for the purchase of two herds from ranchmen in the adjoining county, and several more cowboys had been engaged when, like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, it happened. bud, nort and dick were riding over to the south end of the ranch one day, to inspect the present herd, with a view to shifting it, when nort pointed to what looked like several dark bowlders on a distant, grassy slope. "what are those?" he asked. "big stones?" "stones?" queried bud and, a moment later, he exclaimed, "those are dead cattle! boys, i guess the jinx has come back!" chapter xi into smugglers' glen "hop to it, boys!" cried nort, as he dug his spurs lightly against the sides of his pony. the spurs were blunt ones, for mr. merkel insisted that his men treat their horses kindly, and the spurs were such in name only. however, even these gentle ticklers indicated to nort's animal the need of haste and it leaped ahead. "come on!" echoed dick, following his brother's example and guiding his animal toward those silent forms on the grassy hillside. bud, however, held his animal back and shouted to his cousins: "hold on a minute! don't be rash! hold on!" nort pulled his pony back so suddenly that the creature reared high in the air. some time ago nort would have been unseated by such a trick, but now he stuck to the saddle like a burr to a cow's tail. "what's the matter?" nort shot back over his shoulder. "don't you want to find out what killed those cattle?" asked dick, riding back to join his cousin. "sure!" bud replied. "but i don't want to keel over myself. there must be something there that killed those cows, that is if they're dead. and what killed them may kill us, if we go too close, just as it has killed others and nearly did for sam." "those cows are dead all right," declared nort who, now that his pony was quiet, had taken a pair of field glasses from the case slung at his shoulder and was examining the silent forms. "they're as dead as a last year's sunflower." "but maybe bud's right about wanting to be careful before we go any closer," suggested dick. "you know uncle henry warned us not to run our necks in any noose." "but we got to find out what killed these cows, so we'll know how to guard the others against the same danger," declared nort. "and if it was poison water they drank, or maybe poison grass they ate, why, we don't want our other animals to do the same thing, or get any poison water ourselves." "no," agreed bud, who, having taken the glasses from his cousin, was now making a careful observation, "we don't want to drink any poison water or have cattle eat any poison grass, if there are such things on the ranch. but we can stop a bullet just as easy as a cow can and with just the same bad results for us." "bullet?" questioned nort, wonderingly. "do you think those cows were shot?" asked dick. "they might have been." "who'd do such a thing?" demanded nort. "if it was done at all--which i'm not saying for a fact--it probably was done by the same man, or men, who have been doing the other killings in death valley." "but what in the world for?" exclaimed dick. "search me!" answered bud. "the other cows weren't shot!" asserted nort. "sam's horse that died wasn't shot, and no bullet nipped him or even creased him." "no," agreed bud. "i guess i'm out when it comes to guessing those cows were shot. but let's wait a bit before we go any closer. we can't do those dead cows any good and it may save our lives." though their curiosity made them eager and anxious, the boy ranchers held themselves in check and while riding slowly around on their ponies kept a keen watch of the territory surrounding the grazing herd and the motionless forms of the dead cows. but when nearly half an hour had passed, and there was no sign of any human enemy, and when nothing suspicious had been observed, bud gave the signal to ride on to come closer to the scene of the mystery. during the wait the living members of the herd had exhibited no signs of uneasiness. they wandered around, grazed, ambled here and there, some coming close to look at the boy riders. they behaved like any normal herd of cows. some of the calves showed their playfulness in kicking up their heels and darting hither and yon, while some of the young bulls engaged in head-butting contests. "whatever happened," said bud as he and his cousins rode nearer, "didn't scare the whole herd. death must have come silently, and in the night." "silently, i grant you, but not necessarily in the night," spoke dick. "it could happen any time, as it did to sam. that was in the daytime." "you're right," bud admitted. "it sure is mighty queer. but maybe we can find out, now that it has happened almost under our noses as you might say." this section of dot and dash ranch consisted of diversified country. there was a wooded portion, with a small stream running through it, and in the distance were rolling hills and dales. it was ideal cow country and the herbage was succulent and rich. near the place where the five dead cows were stretched out was the beginning of a long, narrow defile, or gorge which ran back into the hills. some of these hills were quite high and were covered with a growth of timber. others consisted of big rocks piled in fantastic fashion as though there had been a volcanic eruption some time when the world was young. between the hills were small valleys here and there, which made fine, sheltered places for the grazing of cows. having satisfied themselves that there was no lurking enemy waiting to attack them, the three young men rode up to the cows. the ponies showed no signs of fear on approaching the dead bodies, as some eastern horses might have done. a cow pony has no nerves. he gets used to so many queer sights and happenings that even an auto rearing up on its front wheels and running backward while a cow turned somersaults on the fender would not cause a pony to turn his head. the boys dismounted, pulled the reins of their animals over their heads as an intimation to the creatures not to stray and then made their way toward the cows. "they're sure dead all right," remarked bud, prodding the one nearest him with his foot. "have you just found it out?" asked nort. "no, but i remember what happened to sam, and i was thinking maybe they might be only stunned, or something like that. but they're dead." "and not long, either," added dick, noting the fresh and limp condition of the bodies. "this didn't happen later than last night or early this morning." "guess you're right," admitted bud. "yes, they're dead sure enough." "and a total loss," came from dick. "can't even sell the fresh beef in los pompan. we wouldn't dare, not knowing whether the cows died from poison or not." "no," agreed bud. "and it can't be anything but poison of some sort, for i'm sure they weren't struck by lightning." "there was no storm last night," declared nort. as dick had said, the cows were a total loss, or nearly so, for it would hardly pay to have a skinner come out to flay off the hides of such a small number. often when a cow or steer is killed by accident the carcass is fit to eat and there is fresh beef on the ranch or the carcass may be sold to the nearest butcher. but in this case it would have been dangerous and foolish to use this cow meat for food. "nothing to do but bury 'em and forget it, i guess," sighed dick. "but it's quite a loss." "it sure is," remarked bud. "but we're not going to bury 'em right away--at least not all of 'em, and we're not going to forget it." "no, i didn't mean just that," went on dick. "we've got to get to the bottom of this. but why not bury the bodies, bud?" "oh, that will have to be done, of course. but i mean to have some sort of a doctor come out here and look at these cows, or at one of them. maybe he can tell what killed 'em." "good idea," said nort. "there may be a horse doctor in town." "i think there is," spoke bud. "and we'll see if he can tell us anything about what that life elixer is composed of. i'd like to have that analyzed." "do you think that, or the queer old man, had anything to do with the death of these cows?" dick wanted to know. "there's no telling. i'm not going to pass up anything until i find out there's nothing in it!" retorted bud. "dot and dash isn't going to ruin if i can help it!" "that's the idea!" echoed his cousins. they rode about the place but could discover nothing wrong. the cows seemed to have dropped in their tracks, dying without a struggle, though the ground around them was considerably cut up by their hooves, as though the animals had "milled" restlessly before death overtook them. the remaining and live members of the herd showed no uneasiness and no signs of having been injured or disturbed as far as the boys could see by riding among them. they rode over to the stream, which the ponies showed an anxious desire to drink from, but as dick was riding his horse toward the clear water, evidently to let the animal plunge its nose in, bud cried: "do you think it's safe?" "why not?" dick asked, momentarily pulling his pony back, and it was not easy, for the creature was thirsty. "maybe this is the poison water the cows drank." "running water like this couldn't very well be poisoned," declared dick. "a stagnant pool or a water hole might be, but not this. and horses won't touch bad water. watch mine." the pony fairly got beyond control, now, in its mad desire to quench its thirst and was soon drinking greedily, an example followed by the other two. "yes, i guess this water's all right," bud finally admitted. "as you say, a horse won't touch bad water. i'm going to sample some myself." this he did, and he and his cousins found the stream sweet and refreshing. there was no taint to it and they drank their fill as did their ponies. "well, what next?" asked nort, as he sat easily in the saddle, while he watched the water dribbling from the champing jaws of his steed. "shall we go back and get that horse doctor, and then bury the dead cows?" "not yet," answered bud. "i want to ride up that defile and see what's at the other end." he indicated a long, narrow valley leading up into the wooded and rocky hills. "what's the idea?" asked dick. "oh, just a notion," bud replied. "that would make a good hiding place for rustlers," he added. "it's dark, and silent and secret enough," agreed dick as they turned their horses into the defile. "regular smugglers' glen!" and he chuckled at his suggestion. "we can call it that," assented bud. "come on, then, let's see what we'll find in smugglers' glen." they rode on into the narrow, sinister valley, all unaware what they would discover there. chapter xii the elixer cave "nifty hiding place--this," remarked dick as the three rode side by side up "smugglers' glen," as they had jokingly named the defile. "sure is," agreed bud. "a man, or a band of men, if they wanted to, could hole up in here for the winter, slip out when they liked and raid a ranch, and get back again without any one being much the wiser," suggested nort. "let's hope that doesn't happen," remarked bud. "but it's just as well to know about this place. some of our cows might wander up in here and, not finding them on the range, we'd think the rustlers had paid us a visit." "that's right," came from nort. "maybe rustlers have used this for a hiding place," was dick's nest remark. "smugglers' glen or rustlers' glen--it's about the same," commented bud. "if those fellows we fought last year, who were running the chinks over the mexican border, had known of this glen they'd have used it." "that's the truth for you," agreed dick. "and, speaking of chinks, when are we going to get that celestial cook we talked of?" "i expect he'll be back at the ranch when we get there," was bud's reply. "fellow in los pompan promised to ship me out a good one." "i won't be sorry!" chuckled nort. "i'm tired of cooking and washing dishes." the boys and their older companions had taken turns with the not very agreeable duties of housekeeping on the ranch. old billee dobb was an experienced cook and snake often said the old puncher could make beans taste like roast turkey. but billee drew the line at washing dishes. said he couldn't see any sense in cleaning plates only to muss 'em all up again. so when it came his turn to cook somebody else had to do the cleaning. talking of various matters, speculating on the mystery at dot and dash, and wondering what had caused the latest deaths, the boys rode on and on up into the depths of the glen. as they went on, the little valley seemed to shrink in width until it was barely wide enough for the three of them to ride abreast. on either side the grim, rocky hills, studded here and there with trees and bushes, rose high above their heads. now and then they came upon a little stream meandering its way down the defile. here and there it dropped over a ledge of rocks, making a pleasant, if miniature, waterfall. aside from the clatter of their horses' feet, the occasional fall of a dead branch or the rattle of loose stones and the tinkle of the stream, the only sounds were those of the boys' voices. "this place sort of gives me the creeps!" remarked nort with a little shiver and a backward glance. "we might as well have called it a pirate den as what we did." "it is sort of dismal," assented bud. "but i guess we aren't going to find out anything here, so we might as well turn back in a little while." "say after the next turn," suggested dick, indicating a place where the defile swung around a shoulder of bare rock. "suits me," came from bud. they reached the big rock, swung around the narrowest section of the defile they had yet encountered and, a moment later, made a discovery which filled them with surprise. burrowing into the side of the gorge, just beyond the sharp turn, was a cave with an arched opening. at first glance it looked as if it had been cut by the hand of man, but it evidently had been made by the erosion of water through many centuries. "jumping flapjacks!" cried nort, pointing to the cave. "do you see that?" "why not?" chuckled his brother. "it's big enough to be seen." "but did you know it was there?" "i didn't," put in bud. "though that's nothing, for this is the first time we've ever been here. but dad said this was a wilder and different country than back home, and caves aren't anything unusual." "no," assented nort, "and i s'pose i might have expected to find one or more in these hills. but it sort of startled me. wonder if there's anything in it?" "meaning bears, wildcats or other such varmints?" inquired dick with a laugh. "yes," said nort. "or maybe rustlers might have hung out in there." "the only way to find out is to go in and have a look," suggested bud. and, urging on their steeds, which they had, involuntarily, pulled to a halt, they were soon at the cave entrance. it was big enough to give passage to a man on horseback--at least for a little distance within, but the boys did not think it would be safe to guide their ponies into the cavern. they were not certain of the footing. dismounting, then, at the opening, and tethering their horses, the three boys entered the dark hole, not without some trepidation. for it was very dark; the outside light, which was not strong on account of the darkness of the defile, only penetrating a short distance inside the cavern. their footsteps echoed eerily as they advanced, and the state of their nerves can be judged when dick and nort jumped and exclaimed aloud as bud took out a flashlight and suddenly switched on the current, sending a brilliant, though small, shaft of illumination down the stretches of blackness. "did i scare you?" chuckled young merkel. "a little," dick admitted. "i didn't know you had a lantern with you." "oh, i generally carry a small pocket torch," bud replied. "never can tell when you'll be caught out after dark." the flashlight showed the cavern to be hewn out of solid rock, though how high the roof was, or how wide the walls from side to side, they could not judge, for their light was not powerful enough to penetrate. but the cave was, evidently, a big one. suddenly, as they walked along, bud became aware of a growing sheen of light ahead of them. at first he thought it was but the reflection of his own torch on what might be crystals in the cave's sides or roof. but as they walked on the glow increased. nort and dick also noticed it, and nort exclaimed: "guess this is more of a tunnel than a cave. i see daylight ahead." "'tisn't daylight--too red for that," objected bud. "looks more like a fire." and, a moment later, as they rounded a turn, they saw that the light was caused by a fire. it was a fire blazing on the floor of the cavern. over the fire, suspended on a tripod, was a black kettle, a veritable witch-caldron and, bending over it, if not a witch, was a good imitation of one. for it was the figure of an old man--a man with long, straggling white hair and a flowing white beard, as the flames revealed. it was the same old man who had called at the ranch with his sinister warning when he sold the elixer of life. "look!" murmured bud, but he need not have said this. his two cousins were looking with all the power of their staring eyes. "it--it's him!" murmured nort, and the others knew what he meant. "but what's he doing?" whispered dick. there was hardly need to ask that question. undoubtedly the old man was brewing something in the kettle over the fire. there was a peculiar odor in the air, not unpleasant, but rather overpowering. "he's making that stuff he bottles and sells," went on dick. "the elixer. and maybe----" he did not finish the sentence. either the cautious talk of the boy ranchers, or some noise they made carried to the sharp ears of the old man. he started back, out of the circle of light cast by the fire under the kettle. he seemed to be alarmed. "who's there?" he cried. the boys did not answer. they did not know what to do. it was all so strange and startling. a moment later the queer hermit, for such he seemed to be, had snatched the kettle off the chain by which it was suspended. with a quick motion of his foot he scattered the embers of the fire so that immediate section of the cave was obscured by smoke and fantastic shadows. then the old man ran back into the darkness of the far reaches of the cavern and disappeared from view. "there he goes!" cried nort. there was no longer need of whispering. "after him!" cried dick. "no! don't go!" exclaimed bud. "you don't know what he was doing, what he may be up to nor where he's gone. it isn't safe!" this last was so evident that nort and dick at once agreed to the proposition and halted. but dick added: "we don't know, for sure what he was doing, but i can pretty near guess!" "what?" asked bud. "he was brewing stuff to poison our cattle. he's the fellow that's been doing it. he's the cause of all the trouble at dot and dash. we ought to have him arrested, and we've got good proof against him!" "what proof?" bud asked. "the bottles of stuff he sold us. lucky we didn't take any of it! it's poison, sure! come on, let's get back and then send word to the sheriff to come and arrest this old man." it seemed to be good advice and the best thing to do under the circumstances, whether or not dick's theory would be borne out by facts. "we'll go back and have that elixer analyzed," said bud as he swung around with his cousins and began the retreat. "i meant to have it done before but there's so doggoned much to do here it slipped my mind. but i'll have it looked after now." it did not take the three long to emerge from "elixer cave," as they named the place where they had seen the hermit over his brew. their horses were patiently waiting and in a little while the boys were within sight of the ranch house. but something seemed to be going on there. snake, billee and yellin' kid were standing near the cook house, whence came a series of wild, yipping yells. "what's the matter?" cried bud as he rode up to the group of cowboys. "who's doing all that yelling?" "fah moo!" answered old billee dobb. "who in the world is fah moo?" "the new chinese cook that come out from town soon after you boys left." "but what's the matter with him?" asked dick. "doesn't he like it here that he's taking on like this?" "maybe he's singing for joy," suggested nort as a louder series of yelping cries came from the cookhouse. "more like he's in pain," remarked snake purdee. "i'm mighty glad i didn't drink any of it." "any of what?" asked bud, wonderingly. "that elixer of life the old gazaboo sold for a dollar a chunk. there was three bottles of it, you know." "yes, i know," assented bud with growing uneasiness. "well," went on snake, "you know i started to take a swig from the bottle i bought, but nort wouldn't let me. then old billee locked the three bottles in a cupboard." "that's right," assented bud. "well," resumed the cowboy, "we discovered, a little while ago, and soon after fah moo arrived to take charge of the kitchen, we discovered that those three bottles were gone. we found 'em in the new cook's department and the last one was empty." "you mean he drunk all that elixer?" cried dick. "onless he used it for bathin', which i doubt!" chuckled snake. "he must have been nosing around, discovered where the stuff was hid and he drunk every last drop. that's what makes him sing so, or cry--whichever way you take it." "he's poisoned!" cried bud, no less excited, now, than were his two cousins. "poor fah moo is poisoned. we just discovered some of our cattle dead over on the south range. and we found a cave where the old man brews that elixer. it's poison, sure. i guess it's all up with the chink, but we'll try to get a doctor to save him. i'll 'phone in to town!" bud disappeared into the ranch house while the cowboys looked at each other's startled faces, and, meanwhile, fah moo continued to yelp, yap and yip in his high, falsetto voice. chapter xiii frightened horses bud merkel lost no time in getting connected, through the telephone, with the only physician in los pompan. old doc taylor, the medical man was called, though he was not very old. it was more a term of affection. "our chink cook is poisoned!" bud explained. "can you come out quick?" "_pronto!_" was the illuminating reply and then there was nothing to do save wait for dr. taylor's arrival. "he's got a flivver," announced snake who, with yellin' kid, had paid more than one visit to town since arriving at dot and dash, thereby learning considerable about the place and its inhabitants. "it won't take long for the doc to get here." "but can't we do anything, meanwhile, for that poor chink?" asked nort. "guess there isn't much hope for him if he drank all that stuff," remarked bud in gloomy tones. "though we might try to help him get it out of his stomach." "how you goin' to do that?" snake demanded. "by giving him an emetic," bud answered. "mustard and water's good, i've heard. come on--we got to try something," and he turned to his cousins as the most likely ones to be of service. they found poor fah moo rushing around the somewhat narrow confines of his kitchen. the chinese was still yelling and holding both yellow hands across the pit of his stomach. on a table, amid pots, pans and dishes, were the three bottles of the elixer of life. two were completely emptied and the third had but a little fluid remaining in it. "you drink all that?" asked bud, pointing to the three bottles when he could get fah moo's attention for a moment. "can do! dlink lot--chop-chop!" was the groaning answer the import of it being that he had taken the stuff quickly. "whew!" murmured nort. "guess there's no hope for him." "there may be," said dick. "sometimes an overdose of poison is its own antidote. he may have taken so much that he'll be sick and that would be the best thing for him." "he sure took an overdose," declared bud. "see if you can find some mustard, you fellows. i'll put on a kettle of water to boil. the mustard ought to be mixed with warm water to make it work." the boys bustled about, fah moo, meanwhile, rushing around, clutching his stomach and howling at the top of his voice. billee and his companions looked in now and then to ask if they could help, or to offer suggestions, more or less useless, but their services were not required. indeed there was room for no more first-aiders in the small kitchen. in due time the water was warm, the mustard had been found and a big dose mixed. then came the difficulty of administering it to the chinese cook, and a great difficulty it was. as soon as he got the idea that he was to be made to drink something more, and when he had sight of the unappetizing yellow mixture of warm water and mustard in a big bowl, the cook revolted. he retreated into a corner, pulled a chair in front of him and yelled: "no can do! no can do!" "but you've got to do!" insisted bud. "it's the only way to save your life! drink it!" "no can dlink! fah moo dlink chop-chop--plenty--no can do!" and that was all there was to it. he yipped and yapped, clutched his stomach but would not come out of his corner nor touch the emetic. the boys were in despair, and their comrades were of no help, snake even suggesting that it served the chink right for taking the stuff. but just when it seemed that fah moo would raise the roof with his yells, dr. taylor arrived in his rattling flivver and took charge of the case. "what did he take?" was his first question. "poison!" chorused the whole diamond x outfit. "all right, but what kind? i can't tell what to give him to counteract it until i know what poison it was," said the medical man. "here's the dope!" announced yellin' kid, handing over the bottle containing what was left of the elixer. dr. taylor smelled it, tipped the flask to get a little of the mixture on his finger and then, gingerly, applied the digit to his tongue. he waited for any possible reaction, and then took a larger taste of the stuff. then a slow smile spread over his face as he indulged in even a bigger "swig," as snake called it. "this stuff isn't poison," he said, setting the bottle back on the table. "if this is all the chink drank he won't die." "not if he took three bottles of it?" asked bud. "not if he took a dozen. it may make him mighty sick, but he won't die this trip." "what is that stuff?" asked nort. "sarsaparilla!" was the chuckling answer. "nothing but good, old-fashioned sarsaparilla soda pop with the pop left out. it's as flat as ditch water. where'd you get it?" "bought it from an old geezer who said it was elixer of life," snake informed the doctor. "you mean old tosh?" "don't know what his name is," bud said, "but he's an old man and he has a place back here in a cave. we caught him, a little while ago, brewing the stuff. just before that we found some of our cattle dead and we sort of jumped to the conclusion that he'd poisoned the animals. then, when we got here and found the chink taking on so, and discovered the three bottles in his kitchen, empty, we thought he was poisoned." "not a bit of it!" chuckled dr. taylor. "a barrel of that wouldn't poison anybody, though, as i said, it would make them ill and give considerable pain. elixer of life! ha! ha!" "do you know this old man--what did you say his name was?" asked dick. "old tosh he calls himself. might better be _bosh_! no, i don't know him--never saw him as far as i know. but a lot of fools in los pompan have bought his dope, and it made some of them sick. that's how i happened to know what it was soon as i tasted it. i've seen samples in the homes of folks who called me in to treat them for stomach pains. almost always it was because they had taken too much of this tosh elixer. i've sampled dozens of bottles of it. he puts it out under all sorts of names--makes the labels himself, i guess. so i didn't recognize his concoction here until i sampled it," and the medical man waved his hands at the three bottles. "so that's that. fah moo won't die." "he'll wreck our nerves, though, if he keeps this yelling up!" complained bud. "can't you give him something?" "yes, i can relieve him," chuckled the doctor. "mustard and water; eh?" he went on as he saw the mixture. "good enough but you have to swallow too much of it to be effective. i've got something that will do the work." he produced a couple of capsules, which after much urging, the chinese was induced to swallow when told they would save his life. then he was led outside and far away by snake and yellin' kid. in a short time fah moo was a very sick celestial, but after that he grew rapidly better and came creeping back to the kitchen, somewhat pale, wan and drawn, but no longer yipping, yelling and yapping. "can do now," he said, meaning that he could proceed with his work, which he did, when he had formally been engaged by bud who was virtually head of the new ranch. "well, i guess that's all there is to this case," remarked the doctor as he repacked his black bag. "there was no danger. he would have gotten over it in time, anyhow." "so the elixer is only sarsaparilla; is it?" asked bud. "that's about all. just a sort of root beer mixture of herbs and barks the old man concocts. harmless enough. it hasn't even the virtues of soda water, for that has carbonic acid gas in it and that's beneficial at times. so he calls it life's elixer; does he?" "he does," assented bud. "and he stung me for a dollar!" sighed snake. "wait till i get hold of him! did i hear you boys say you caught him in a cave?" "we didn't catch him--he vamoosed as soon as he heard us," reported bud. "but we saw him boiling the stuff. only we thought it was poison, on account of the dead cows." "that's so--you did mention dead cows!" exclaimed billee. "so death valley is livin' up to its name. let's have the yarn, boys." bud and his cousins explained what they had discovered and the older cowboys looked anxious. dr. taylor listened attentively. "i don't believe old tosh had any hand in it," he said. "he bears the name of being a harmless crank, always imagining every one is going to die who doesn't take his herb medicine." "i wonder if you could tell what those cows died of?" asked bud. "i could take a look at 'em," said the medical man, "but unless signs of the poison--granting that it was poison--were very plain, i could not say what kind was used. it would require an autopsy and a chemical analysis. i'm not equipped for such work." "well, would you mind having a look at the bodies?" asked bud. "i know it isn't in your line----" "oh, i don't mind," said dr. taylor, good-naturedly. "anything to oblige. i'll run out and go over the matter with you to-morrow. i've got to get back to town now. not that my practice is so large," and he laughed, "but i've got to look after it. your chink cook will be all right in a little while," and he hurried off in his flivver, promising to return next day. "how'd fah moo get the elixer?" asked bud when matters had somewhat quieted down and the celestial was busy in the kitchen. "oh, i reckon he was snoopin' around and found where i hid the stuff in the cupboard," billee answered. "if he's going to be our regular kitchen canary, bud, i'll have to keep things better hid." "i guess he's had his lesson," said young merkel. "and i guess he'll be our permanent pot wrestler from now on. i left word for a man in los pompan to send me the first one he could get hold of, and fah moo is the result." "and i'm glad he's here!" voiced dick. "i'm sick and tired of giving the dishes their bath." the others felt the same about it, so fah moo became a fixture at dot and dash. billee and the others were surprised at the news the boys brought back from their little expedition. the finding of the cave was not considered remarkable, as billee said there were many such about the neighborhood. "and it wasn't strange that old tosh, if that's his name, skipped out when he saw you," went on the veteran puncher. "likely he thought you were coming to steal his elixer secrets. so i guess we don't need to worry about him." "probably not," assented bud and his cousins. "but," added mr. merkel's son, "it will be necessary to give some attention to the deaths of the cows." "you're right there!" declared billee. "looks like the same old trouble was starting up again." however the mystery was not solved by dr. taylor who came to the ranch next day. he looked at the dead cows, but beyond saying that they had undoubtedly died from some sort of poison he could give no opinion. and, because of the hot weather, it was not considered wise to cut up any of the bodies to send the inner organs away for a laboratory test. "we'll have to solve the problem some other way," bud said. so the unfortunate cows were buried and then, resolving not to be frightened in their operations by this streak of bad luck, the boys carried out mr. merkel's ideas by completing the purchase of several score more head of choice animals and hiring additional cowboys to help with the work at dot and dash. the new ranch was, by this time, quite an establishment, and though many croakers in los pompan predicted failure for it, as those who had gone before failed, bud and his chums went on with their heads high and their hearts strong. fences were repaired, the herds were put out to graze, arrangements were made to ship away cattle at the most advantageous times and the work of dot and dash was now in full swing. meanwhile nothing more had been seen or heard of the old hermit, as the boys called tosh. bud and his cousins paid another visit to the elixer cave, as they christened it, but aside from the ashes of the fire they found nothing. the cavern was too big for them to explore completely in the limited time at their disposal, though they resolved, after the fall round-up, to investigate it fully. fah moo fitted well into the routine at dot and dash. he was a good cook and was popular with the punchers for that reason. but he was cured of any "snooping" habits he may have had. he would not touch a bottle of any liquid, no matter how openly it was left around. two or three times some of the cowboys, having heard the story, laid traps for the chinese. but he blandly passed them by, murmuring: "no can do!" mr. merkel had been informed of the progress of affairs and though he expressed a little anxiety because of the fact that those five cattle had been found dead, he added that the animals might have eaten some poison weed which the others in the herd did not get at. and as since then nothing had happened, he expressed the hope that nothing would, and that his wisdom in buying dot and dash at a bargain would be demonstrated. so matters went along for a few weeks. every one was busy, things looked favorable for a good season and bud and his cousins were getting ready to laugh at themselves for thinking there was a jinx. but one afternoon, when the three had ridden over to mend a broken fence, and when they were returning home, as they passed the entrance to what they still called smugglers' glen, dick's horse suddenly started, reared and then, after a fit of trembling, as though in fear, made a mad dash across the range. an instant later the steeds of the other boys did the same and three frightened horses were soon carrying their puzzled riders over the hills. chapter xiv bud disappears excellent riders as were the boy ranchers, it took them some little time and effort to calm their ponies and bring the frightened animals to an easy canter which gave bud and his cousins a chance to consider the matter. "whew!" exclaimed the ranchman's son as he eased up on the reins and patted the neck of his mount. "that was some dash!" "not much _dot_ about it!" chuckled nort. "for a pun like that you ought to be forced to drink a bottle or two of tosh elixer!" retorted bud. "how about it, dick?" "i'm with you! that was rotten--not much _dot_--i suppose that's a play on the word _doubt_--not much _dot_ about it--that _dash_! oh, somebody hold me!" and he shook his fist at his brother. "i was thinking we'd soon need somebody to hold our horses," said nort, not a little pleased at his own joking words, however nonsensical his two companions thought them. "what happened?" "that's what i want to know," chimed in bud. "all of a sudden my pinto here started off as if there was a race." "same with me," went on dick. "something must have frightened the ponies," said nort. "yes, and we've got to find out what it was," declared bud. "come on back." he wheeled his mount as he spoke. "maybe we can't get 'em back," suggested dick. "well, at the place where they begin to balk we'll know the trouble started," suggested the ranchman's son. "and we'll know we have to look for the trouble right there." "what do you reckon it could have been to make them bolt so suddenly?" dick wanted to know. "skunks, maybe," was the thought nort offered. "not many skunks in this neighborhood, thank goodness," said bud. "i wouldn't say there aren't any, but i've never heard of them." "or smelled them," added nort. "that's right--smelled 'em, either, and, what's more, i don't want to! no, i don't believe it was skunks." "rattlesnakes, maybe," was dick's next contribution. "horses are afraid of rattlers all right." "yes, and with good reason," bud said, "though i don't know as i ever heard of a horse dying from a side-winder's bite. it may happen, but, personally, i can't prove it. all the same i don't believe it was rattlers, though there are plenty in this region." "why couldn't it have been snakes?" asked dick. "well, if any rattlers had sounded their warning, and they always do rattle before they strike, we would have heard them as well as the horses would, and i didn't hear anything." "no, i didn't, either," dick and nort admitted in turn. "but what was it, then?" nort asked. "it was something the horses smelled!" declared bud with conviction. "they got a whiff of something they didn't like and they lit out like all possessed." "do you mean a bear?" asked dick. "bear what?" came from bud who had urged his pony somewhat ahead of the mounts of his cousins. "did the horses smell a bear, do you think?" went on dick. "you know a bear, even a tame circus one, will set a cow pony off quicker than anything else." "yes," agreed bud. "but i hardly think this was a bear. there are probably some back in the woods and hills, but they don't very often venture into the open, especially at this time of year. and if it had been a bear i think i would have winded him." "i don't know about that," came from nort. "you know a horse, and almost any other animal, has a keener sense of smell than most humans. the horses might have smelled something we didn't." "that's true enough," assented bud. "but the fact of the matter is i noticed a queer sort of smell just before the horses bolted. it wasn't very strong, and was more like perfume than anything else. in fact i thought it might be some sort of flower or perhaps an herb the ponies stepped on and crushed. i was just going to mention it to you fellows when the rush began and i had my hands full, same as you did. either of you notice any smell?" nort and dick had to confess that they had not, but dick added: "you've lived out of doors more than we have, bud, and you got a better nose--i mean for smelling, not for shape!" he added as bud's hand went to his olfactory organ. "so you might have caught a whiff of something we didn't." "there's something in that, though i don't like to boast," said bud. "i'm pretty sure that's what it was--a queer smell the ponies didn't like, and feared, and so they ran away from it." "but what kind of a smell could it be?" asked dick. "maybe we'll find out when we get back to where the thing happened--that is if the ponies will go back," spoke bud. however there seemed to be no trouble on this score, for, as the boys came nearer and nearer to the place whence the animals had started on their dash, there was no sign of fear or nervousness. the steeds trotted on as they had done over any other stretch of the range, and the deepest breathing of which the boys were capable betrayed to their alert noses not the slightest taint in the air. "this is mighty queer!" murmured bud as he guided his mount to and fro around the locality. "mighty queer!" "it's almost as if we had dreamed it," remarked nort. "it was no dream the way i had to pull my horse back!" declared dick, and the others agreed with him. "well, i guess we'll have to give it up and put it down as part of the unsolved mystery of dot and dash," said bud as he wheeled his horse around and headed for the ranch house. "unless you want to take a ride up there again," suggested nort. "where do you mean?" nort pointed to the defile--that gulch which the boys had named smugglers' glen--and added: "we might catch the old man in elixer cave." "what good would that do?" asked dick. "you don't imagine he had anything to do with scaring our horses; do you?" "not exactly," replied his brother. "but, seeing we're so near the place, i thought we might give it the once over." "not much point to it," said bud. "there's nothing to be learned up there. no, i guess it was some sort of queer weed or flower i smelled and which also frightened the ponies. i wish i knew more about botany. i might find out what it was," and he looked at the trampled grass over which they were now riding. but it gave no clew. "if there's a weed, the mere smell of which causes a horse to bolt," said nort, "it may be the thing that's causing the cattle to die. maybe it's the poison weed that caused so many deaths here." "i can't believe anything as strange as that," declared bud. "but after we get things running well i'm going to have a doctor, or a chemist or somebody who knows about such things come out here and look the place over. we've got to get to the bottom of this puzzle." his cousins agreed with him. however there was nothing they could do at present. so they rode back to the ranch where they told their strange experience, and suggested to billee, snake and the other cowboys that it would be well for them to be on the watch, to find out if any strange weed or flower growing in death valley was responsible for the sinister manifestations. "it may be a new brand of loco weed," suggested yellin' kid in his big voice. "some of that's deadly." "to eat, yes, but not to smell," bud reminded him. "but you may be right at that. keep your eyes open, boys." "loco weed!" exclaimed billee. "i've had experience with that--i mean some ponies i once owned went crazy from it. it sure is queer stuff." he referred to a species of bean plant, growing in some sections of the west. horses and cattle who inadvertently eat this weed with their other fodder run madly about as if insane and often have to be shot. sometimes loco weed is powerful enough to kill, it is said by some, though there is a doubt on this point. but none of the cowboys had ever heard of the odor from loco weed doing any damage. the incident of the ponies running away was soon forgotten in the rush and detail of work that soon piled up at dot and dash ranch. more cattle were put out to graze, to thus fatten up for market. more hands were hired and the place soon was almost as busy, big and important as the boys' ranch in happy valley, or the original one at diamond x. there was one thing bud and his cousins noticed and spoke of, however, and this was that all their cowboys came from distant places, with the exception of billee, kid and snake. all the hands hired gave their addresses as of ranches far removed from death valley. and though when they first started business the boy ranchers had endeavored to hire hands in los pompan, they were not successful. "why don't you want to sign on with us?" bud asked more than one. "oh, well, i don't have nothin' against you, personal, boss," would be the answer, "but i don't jest like that locality." then bud and his cousins knew that the sinister reputation of dot and dash was at the bottom of the refusal. but enough men from other places were hired to run the ranch, and matters were shaping themselves nicely. bud sent word home that in spite of the sensational stories, and the one or two strange happenings the boys had themselves experienced, it looked as if the proposition would be a successful and paying one. fah moo was a jewel of a cook and there was soon established quite a happy little family at dot and dash. then, without warning, another blow fell. it was decided that some of the original herd, purchased with the ranch, could now be sold, as cattle on the hoof were bringing good prices. and, talking it over one night, bud and his chums planned to cut out a number of fat steers and ship them away. "i'll ride over to that range in the morning," bud told his cousins at the conclusion of the conference, "and give the bunch the once-over. then you two can do the cutting out for i've got to go to town the next few days to sign up some papers for dad. so i'll leave the shipment to you." "it will be our first from here," said dick. "yes," agreed his brother. "and i hope they don't die before we get 'em to the loading chutes." "not much danger, i guess," bud remarked. "this jinx seems to be passing us up. guess it got tired of the way we came back at it. well, i'll go over the first thing in the morning and next day you can begin to round up and cut out." "when'll you be back?" nort asked his cousin when bud slung his leg over the saddle next morning. the two shannon boys were to be busy at some duties about the ranch during their cousin's absence. "oh, i'll be back by noon," was the answer. so bud rode away, singing the cowboy's lament, and idly flipping the end of his lariat. noon came almost before nort and dick realized it, so busy were they, and when fah moo cried: "klum an' glit it!" which was the signal for dinner, nort exclaimed: "bud isn't back yet!" "no," said dick. "maybe he found the herd farther off than he counted on. but he'll be along before we finish." however, bud did not show up, and when all the cowboys had eaten, and the afternoon began to wane without the return of the ranch owner's son, his cousins looked at each other with anxious faces. "where do you reckon he is?" asked dick. "that's hard to say, but----" "say, let's ride out that way!" interrupted dick. "we've finished here and----" he did not complete the sentence, but his brother knew what was implied. accordingly a little later, saying nothing to the other hands, the two saddled their ponies and started out on the trail to that part of the ranch situated near smugglers' glen, where the original bunch of cattle were grazing. "i don't like this disappearance on bud's part," said nort, as they rode along. "is it a disappearance?" asked dick, pointedly. "what else is it? he hasn't come back." to this dick returned no answer, but there were anxious looks on the faces of the boy ranchers as they urged their ponies forward. chapter xv the search pleasant enough it was, riding over the sunlit, undulating broad stretches of the range, and dick and nort would have thoroughly enjoyed it had it not been for the nature of their errand. had bud been with them they would probably have "whooped it up" with joyous, care-free exuberance. but now they were rather solemn, not to say glum. dick, noticing that his brother rode along with his eyes bent on the ground just ahead of the pony, inquired: "what are you looking for--lost something?" "no. but i was thinking about the possibility of poison weed and i thought maybe i could spot it before anything happened." "i don't take much stock in that poison weed theory," said dick. "no? what do you think caused the deaths?" "hanged if i know! i'm more concerned, right now, with finding out what's keeping bud away." "well, that's why i was sort of looking for this weed--if there is such a thing." "you thought maybe he'd been overcome by it?" "somewhat--like sam tarbell was overcome, you know." "there's a possibility of that," admitted dick, with an anxious air. "but we ought to meet him soon." however they rode on for several miles, and though they strained their eyes for a sight of their returning cousin, they did not glimpse him. it was getting dusk when they came within view of the original herd which had been purchased with the ranch. the cattle were quietly feeding, chewing cuds or roaming about as suited each individual taste. but there was no sight of bud. "something must have happened to him!" said nort, voicing not only his own fear but that of his brother. "he doesn't seem to be around here. something sure has happened!" "i'm beginning to fear so," admitted dick. "he might have had a tumble, or his pony might, and gotten a broken leg from it--i mean bud might." "he could manage to sit on his horse with a broken leg--that is some kinds of broken legs," nort pointed out. "he couldn't get back up in the saddle if he fell off and broke his leg," objected dick. "gosh! i wish we'd find him." they topped a little rise, which gave them a good view of the surrounding territory, and eagerly scanned the vista. there seemed to be nothing but cattle in sight, but a few moments after reaching the little hill summit dick exclaimed: "there's a pony!" excitedly he pointed to it, and a moment later nort had taken his field glasses from their case and was focusing on the animal. after what seemed like a long time, but which, really, was only a few seconds, nort cried: "that's bud's horse all right!" "do you see bud?" anxiously inquired dick. "no, he doesn't seem to be in sight. but let's ride over there." they urged their ponies forward at top speed but as they drew near bud's favorite mount, which he had brought with him from diamond x, the steed perversely kicked up his heels, wheeled about and was away on a fast trot. "he must have lost his bridle, or else the reins are caught up on the saddle horn!" cried dick as he and his brother took after the runaway. for a western horse, in almost all cases, will stand still if the reins are dropped over his head to the ground. of course there are exceptions, but bud's mount was well trained in this habit. consequently when nort and dick saw the animal running from them they realized that one of two things must have happened. a horse cannot run far with the bridle reins dangling in front of him. he is very likely to step on them and trip himself up. but nothing like this happened with star, which was the name of bud's pony. he ran on easily. "have to rope him, i guess!" cried nort, who was a little in advance of his brother. "go to it! we got to find out what's wrong!" there was an exciting race for a few minutes but in the end nort and his trusty lariat won. the coils settled over the head of the runaway and he was gently brought to a halt. once caught he was tractable enough. it was as though he had wanted to show off. "bridle's gone; eh?" remarked dick as he cantered up alongside his brother and the captured horse. "that looks bad." "unless bud took it off himself, to let his pony graze in more comfort." "he wouldn't do that without hobbling him, and look--there's his rope." dick pointed to the coils on the saddle horn. "then what happened? is there any----" nort did not like to use the word "blood," but that is what he implied. and his brother knew the thought--that bud might have been shot by some rustlers or roving desperados and so had been dropped from the saddle. but there were no evidences of foul play, and no signs of a struggle. no marks showed on the pony, either. "well, this sure is a mystery!" exclaimed nort when the casual examination, was over. "what has become of bud?" "that's what i'd like to know," echoed dick. "what's the next move?" "better go back and tell some of the boys. we'll have to organize a search." "guess that's the only thing to do," admitted dick. "gosh! the jinx was only on a vacation. now it's back in full force." "oh, i wouldn't go thinking the worst--not yet a while," urged nort as they started back for the ranch, leading bud's mount by a rope around his neck. "something might have given bud a fall and his pony might have run away. then bud may have met some cowboys who loaned him a mount to get back on. he may be back at the ranch when we get there." but dick shook his head over this theory. "if bud had ridden back on a borrowed horse we'd have seen him, sure!" he declared. "we came the same trail he'd have used." truth to tell nort did not think much of his own reasoning, but he put it forward as the best under the circumstances. there was clearly only one thing to do, and that was to acquaint the cowboys with the mystery of bud's disappearance as soon as possible, and get a search under way. there was plenty of excitement at dot and dash when, in the shadows of the coming night, nort and dick galloped into the yard and shouted the news. they knew, without asking, that bud had not returned in their absence, so yellin' kid did not have to shout: "he isn't here!" "then we've got to find him!" was billee's conclusion after hearing the brothers' story. "come on, boys! we've got to search for bud!" chapter xvi bud's strange tale darkness, which shrouded death valley shortly after the search started, was a severe handicap. even the most skillful followers of a trail, and there were several such among the cow punchers, could do little in the night. still they rode out in various directions from the dot and dash ranch house--big, stern-faced men, with lariat and gun ready and determined looks in their eyes. though some of the cowboys had only been associated with bud merkel during the short time of their hire, they had come to admire the boy rancher who treated them as his father would have done, with fairness and kindness. "if any doggoned rustlers have been playing tricks with bud," voiced yellin' kid as he rode off with nort, dick and billee, "they had better make their wills. i'm after 'em, boy, i'm tellin' you!" and he shouted this information to the silent night. so they rode forth into the blackness. the shannon brothers, with yellin' kid and old billee dobb, made up one party. snake purdee with sam tarbell headed another, and the various new cow punchers, including one or two who had recently been sent by mr. merkel from diamond x, took up such trail as there was. at best it was only a series of faint clews that led toward bud. it was known in what direction he had started that morning, and the finding of his horse near the original herd, and not far from the smugglers' glen, gave color to the theory that he had carried out his intention of getting information about the cattle he wanted to ship away. that was as far as clews went. what had happened to the young man, how he came off his horse, how the pony's bridle was missing--all these were points to be cleared up by the searchers. and it was not easy in the night. "we can't do much till morning," said billee dobb when he and his companions had circled around the wondering cattle of the original herd, without getting any nearer to the solution of the mystery. "something's happened to bud to put him out of business." "out of business!" exclaimed nort. "do you mean----" "i mean only temporary!" billee made haste to add. "bud's in some sort of condition where he can't come back to us or send word. i don't really think anything could have happened to him--i mean anything serious." "i hope not," murmured dick, while nort echoed the wish. however, as the hours of the night passed, and searching as best they could by the glimmer of flashlights, stopping to shout bud's name now and then, they did not find the missing young rancher. "it's getting daylight," remarked yellin' kid in lower tones than he was wont to use. perhaps the strange hush which always precedes the dawn, or perhaps the sorrow that pervaded all hearts on account of bud's absence had an influence on kid and he was more solemn. "yes, soon be time to eat," agreed old billee. "we'll have to go back, though. didn't bring no grub with us." this was true enough. when the search started no one thought it would last very long. there was no idea that the searchers would be out all night. yet such was the case. "yes, we'll have to go back and then start out again after we eat," assented nort. they rode along for a time in silence. slowly the light in the east grew. more and more rosy it appeared, now with golden streaks. morning was about to break forth in all its glory. "i wonder if he could have had anything to do with it?" spoke nort suddenly, and apparently asking himself the question. "who?" inquired dick a bit sharply. "what do you mean?" "i mean the old elixer peddler." "tosh?" "yes." "how could he have anything to do with bud staying away all night?" "that's it. i don't know. i'm just wondering. tosh is a queer old crank, you know, and he may have met bud and tried to sell him some more of the stuff that fah moo got sick on." "well, there'd be no harm in that," remarked billee. "old tosh probably tries to sell everybody he meets some of his dope, on the plea that it'll save them from the fate that overtakes so many in death valley. no harm in that. poor, old crank!" "no harm in trying to sell--no," assented nort. "but if bud didn't buy any bottles of the stuff--and he wouldn't be likely to--tosh might have got mad and kicked up a row. there might have been a fight and----" "oh, i don't think so!" interrupted dick. "that's a little too far fetched." "well, almost anything might have happened," argued nort. "but i wish we'd find him!" the others heartily echoed the thought. they were nearing, now, the entrance to the defile, or smugglers' glen. the sun was just peeping up above the line of round hills which represented the horizon. a new day was being born, but to those from dot and dash ranch it was not a joyful day--or it would not be if the mystery over bud remained unsolved. "i wonder if, by any chance, he could be up in there," mused nort. "where?" asked dick, who was gazing off across the range, his eyes intently focused on a small, moving object that did not seem to be either a cow or a horse. "up there where we found old tosh making the witches' broth," and nort looked closely at his brother to see what was attracting his attention. "i mean in smugglers' glen," went on nort, for dick had not turned. "what you looking at?" suddenly demanded nort. "why, i thought--i saw--" dick was speaking in a preoccupied manner, his gaze still fixed on that small, dark object. then, so suddenly that it startled all of them, as they sat on their mounts, with back turned toward the defile, there came from the glen a noise. it was a noise of stones rattling one against the other. like a flash all turned from observing the object that had caught dick's eyes, and the reason for the stone-rattling noise was explained. it was caused by some one walking unsteadily out of the defile, and the person who was walking was--bud merkel! for a moment the searchers could scarcely believe that they really saw the missing youth. but as he came nearer it was only too evident. "bud!" cried nort and dick in a duet as they spurred their horses forward. "bud!" "by gosh! 'tis him!" roared yellin' kid. "but he's 'bout done up!" commented billee dobb as he, with kid, urged his pony forward. "what happened?" it was obvious that something serious had taken place. bud was hardly able to walk, and was supporting himself by leaning on a tree branch as a sort of cane or crutch. but his face brightened in the rising sun as he beheld his friends coming toward him. "what happened?" called dick, as he dismounted beside his cousin. "it's a strange story," said bud in a weak voice. "i've been practically kidnaped and put under the spell of some sort of poison gas." "kidnaped!" cried snake. "poison gas!" echoed billee. "who did it?" demanded nort. "rustlers, i reckon," said bud as he sank down on a bowlder and drank greedily from the canteen dick offered. "i was surprised by a crowd of men back there," and he nodded back up the gulch. "they shot some sort of vapor at me that knocked me out, and i've been a prisoner ever since. i just managed to get away." "tell us about it!" cried nort. "and we'll go back there and clean those fellows out!" shouted yellin' kid, reaching for his gun. he would have put his threat into execution, too, but bud restrained him with a gesture as he said: "it's no use!" "why not? did you shoot 'em up?" asked snake, with the beginning of a delighted grin. "no," bud replied. "but they aren't there now. they lit out. that's how i could get away." "say, there's more to this than you're telling us!" said nort. "go ahead. spill the whole yarn--that is if you're able," begged dick. "oh, yes, i feel better now. give me a little more water and i'll tell you what happened to me." chapter xvii the avengers bud merkel took a long drink, shook his head several times as though to clear his brain of some benumbing influence and began his story. "i guess you all know," he said, "how i started over here yesterday to size up our stock to get ready for the first shipment to go from dot and dash under the new ownership." his hearers nodded. by this time several other cowboys from the other searching parties had arrived to hear the good news of the finding of bud. "well," went on the young rancher, "i got to the range all right, looked the herd over and found there were more steers ready to ship than we had counted on," and he looked toward his cousins. "then i thought i'd spend the rest of the morning in exploring smugglers' glen. i wanted to see if i could find out where the old elixer man disappeared to that time he ran away from us," and again he looked at nort and dick. the story of the herb doctor was known to most of the cowboys. "i rode on up into the gulch," continued bud, "and when i got close to the cave i slid off my horse, for his feet made so much noise on the rocks that i thought if the old man was in the cavern he'd take warning and skip out before i could catch him at work. that's what i wanted to do--see old tosh at work brewing his stuff. and i wanted to find if there was another entrance or exit from the cavern. i didn't know but what, in case of a big blizzard, we might not shelter some of our stock in the cave if we could open it up more." "that wouldn't be a bad idea," commented nort. "well, anyhow," resumed bud, "i got off my pony, tied him to a tree and went on up the glen afoot. i was almost at the cave when, all of a sudden, two or three men came out. they seemed quite surprised to see me, and i certainly was to see them. they weren't any of our men, and they hadn't any right on our range, any more than old tosh has, but i guess no one minds him. "i thought, of course, that these fellows were rustlers--they were rough and tough enough looking to be almost anything. but before i could say or do anything, one of them set down what looked like a tank containing carbonic acid gas, like they use at drug store soda water fountains. i wondered whether these fellows were going into the game of putting pop in the tosh elixer, when, all at once i felt sort of queer. i tried to fight off the sensation, but i kept getting weaker until i just crumpled up in a heap. "i thought of all sorts of things--the stories billee had told about the sudden deaths here, how sam tarbell was overcome and his horse killed and then, just as if i was in a dream, i felt some of those men pick me up and carry me into the cave." "the darned hijackers!" cried yellin' kid. "can't we do something to 'em?" demanded snake angrily. "wait," cautioned bud. "i haven't finished. the men picked me up. i was so weak and knocked out by that peculiar smell, whatever it was, that i couldn't do anything. it was, as i said, just like being in a dream. they laid me down on a pile of bags, or something. it was dark, but they had some lanterns. my eyes were half open so i could see a little. then they tied me up and after that i don't remember much. i have a hazy recollection, just as you'd have from trying to remember a half-forgotten dream, a recollection of seeing the men moving about the cave, digging out rocks, hammering and crushing them. for a time i thought they might be going to wall up the entrance and bury me there alive. "then i must have gone to sleep, or lost consciousness, for everything faded away and the next thing i knew i woke up. it was dark and quiet around me and i began to move my arms and legs. i had been tied up pretty tight, but the knots seemed to be looser now and i managed to work some of them off so i could free myself. "then i got up, found a flashlight in my pocket--luckily the men hadn't searched me--and i managed to make my way out of the cave. so here i am--that's all there is to it." "well, that's good and plenty!" cried nort. "didn't you stop to see if those men were still there, and what they were doing?" asked dick. "no, i didn't feel able," bud answered wearily. "all i wanted to do was get out, find my horse and ride back to the ranch. but where is star?" the young rancher suddenly asked, looking around. "he's safe in the corral," dick answered. "we found him wandering around without his bridle on when we went to look for you late yesterday afternoon." "he must have pulled away from the tree where i had him tied and yanked the bridle off that way," bud said. "horses an' bridles ain't much account now!" declared billee. "the main thing is about these darn varmints that treated bud so. who do you think they were--i mean what sort of scamps?" asked the old ranch hand, and he fingered his gun, which several other cowboys were doing. "i think they were cattle rustlers," answered bud, who seemed to be feeling better each moment. "they must have been hiding in the cave waiting for a chance to drive off some of our stock, when their plans were spoiled by my happening along." "that's probably it," agreed nort. "but what about that soda water cylinder you say they shot at you?" "i wouldn't call it soda water," stated bud with a grim smile. "but it contained some sort of gas and they must have shot it at me for it knocked me out." "how was it they could turn a stream of poison gas, or at least knock-out gas, on you, bud, and not suffer from it themselves?" asked dick. "the wind was blowing straight from them to me, down the glen," was the reply. "the breeze carried the stuff to me and it didn't bother them at all for it floated right from them." "just like gas in the war," stated snake, who had fought in france, as had several of the other husky cowboys. "that's probably what it was, too, some kind of gas they used in the war. it comes in tanks, and the germans used to lay a shallow trench full of these cylinders, with the openings in 'em pointed our way. then they'd open a faucet, let the gas out and the wind would blow it right in our faces. if we didn't put on gas masks it was bye-bye for us." "but," exclaimed nort, "bud wasn't killed." "no," agreed snake with a grim smile, "and we're darn glad he wasn't. like as not they didn't use strong gas on him. there's lots of kinds of gas, you know. i took some once to have a tooth yanked out and i laughed to beat the band. even in war all the gas wasn't sure death. there was a kind that made you cry like you'd lost your best girl." "that's the explanation then," decided nort. "these fellows--call 'em rustlers for the time being--have got hold of some kind of knock-out gas and they used it on bud." "i sure was knocked out," murmured the young rancher. "but what's their game?" asked yellin' kid in no gentle tones. "if they're rustlers why did they just hold bud a prisoner a while and then light out and not take any stock?" "they probably figgered the game was up," suggested snake, "and wanted to make their get-away. anyhow they didn't get no stock." "are you sure of that?" asked bud. by this time nearly all the other members of the searching parties had been gathered near smugglers' glen, the more distant ones having been signaled to by shots previously agreed upon. and from the leaders of these squads it was learned that no raid had been made during the night. the whole range had been pretty well covered. "well, that's good," said bud when the welcome news had been conveyed to him. "do you think these rustlers were responsible for the deaths here in this valley?" asked nort. "have they been setting off this gas--or some even worse--and killing cattle, men and horses?" billee dobb shook his head. "death valley got its name a long while back," he said. "long before these fellers could have been operating. this is some new dodge, take my word for it." "it's a queer way to rustle cattle--kill 'em with gas," said yellin' kid. "oh, they keep the gas for humans that might try to catch 'em, i guess," billee went on. "that's just something to cover their operations. and it doesn't solve the other deaths that took place here." "you say you saw those men digging away in the cave, cracking rocks and the like of that?" asked snake. "that's what i think i saw," spoke bud. "of course i don't know _what_ i really saw and what i may have _dreamed_, half unconscious as i was. but it's easy to find out if any digging has been done in the cave. we can take another trip back there and----" "that's just what we'll do!" cried nort "and we'll catch these fellows an' string 'em up!" cried sam tarbell. "they killed my best horse and i'm going to have revenge on 'em. are you with me, boys?" "sure!" cried half a score of cowboys, their hands going to their guns. "we'll revenge bud, too!" exclaimed dick. "that's the talk!" shouted yellin' kid. "let's get at these _hombres_ an' chase 'em out of the country!" eager and excited, angry, and justly so, the crowd was ready for anything. they would have rushed at once into the defile but that billee dobb held up a restraining hand. "we want to go at this thing calm and cautious like," he said. "we want either to catch these scamps or drive 'em out. at the same time we want to find out what their game is." "that's right," agreed bud. "the more i think of it the more i'm sure i didn't _dream_ i saw 'em digging something out of the sides of the cave. they _really did it_." "diamonds, maybe!" exclaimed snake, eagerly. "be yourself, boy!" chuckled yellin' kid. "diamonds don't grow out here." "all right--have it your way," mildly assented snake. "so it would be a good thing to see what these birds were up to," went on bud. "i'm still so sort of knocked out that i can't do much. i've got to get back and rest up. but if you boys want to go back up there and see what you can find, and do, i'm willing." "we sure will!" cried the crowd as one man. "let billee be the leader," suggested bud. and in a few minutes the avengers had formed a sort of plan of battle or attack which, they hoped, would solve some of the mystery of death valley. chapter xviii driven back bud was to go back to the ranch with some of the cowboys and remain there while the main body of punchers moved up into the glen to capture, if possible, the mysterious men with their more mysterious tank of strange gas. and, after a second consideration of the affair in hand, it was decided that it would be best if the main body of avengers could have one of fah moo's hot breakfasts before starting in on what might be a strenuous day's work. "but if we all go in," objected nort when this plan was outlined, "those fellows up in the glen may escape, if they haven't already skipped away to stay." "i've thought of that," stated old billee who was sort of commander-in-chief. "we'll send some scouts up to watch and see what happens. who'll volunteer?" there was no lack on this score, for though the men were all tired from the night's vigil, on edge from lack of sleep and hungry into the bargain, billee had three times as many as he needed for scouts. cow-punchers are "he-men," and little things like loss of sleep and delay in getting breakfast do not bother them. it was arranged that when the main body returned, after a session with the chinese cook, they would bring a "snack" for the scout volunteers. "and some hot coffee in thermos bottles," added bud, who knew how that would be appreciated. "we have some thermos bottles at the ranch. i only hope i'll feel able to come back and help fight." "do you think there'll be a fight?" asked yellin' kid, eagerly. "it's likely," said billee. "whoop-ee!" roared the loud-voiced one and his joyous sentiment was echoed on all sides. bud looked a little glum that he could not be "in on the fun," as he called it later. but he was more done up than he imagined, for he had gone through a strenuous time, though he had not actually been mistreated. so while some of the cowboys more recently engaged were sent into the glen as scouts, the main body, with bud riding on a spare horse which had been brought along for just such an eventuality, went back to the ranch. there things soon began to "hum," as nort and dick expressed it. they had had experience before with desperate and unscrupulous men who, as rustlers, or otherwise, had endeavored to make trouble for the boy ranchers. and the young managers of dot and dash did not shrink from the coming conflict. "can do--sure!" was the bland reply of fah moo when asked if he could get breakfast for the bunch in a hurry. "sure can do!" and he did. guns were looked to, extra ammunition was packed, hurried snatches of food were the order of the day, and when baskets of grub had been packed for the scouts left on guard, once more the cavalcade started off. on the way to smugglers' glen a sort of campaign was outlined and agreed upon. it was decided to advance on foot against the men in the cave, for the defile was so narrow, and the footing so uncertain because of loose rocks, large and small, that horses would be a disadvantage rather than a help in case of a fight. "we'll leave the ponies at the entrance, same as bud did his," suggested old billee. "all alone?" asked nort. "some of those fellows may sneak up in our rear and make off with our mounts." "they won't be unguarded," declared billee, who was too old a fighter to make the mistake of leaving his rear open to attack. "i'll have a couple of the hands stay with the horses." "not me you won't!" shouted yellin' kid. "me, i'm goin' to _fight_! i'm not goin' to be nurse-maid for a lot of cow ponies!" "me either!" declared snake. "order in the ranks!" snapped billee with blazing eyes. "i'm in charge here, by the instructions of the boss, and i won't have anybody saying what they will and won't do! you heard me!" he was as different from the usual mild old billee dobb as chalk is from cheese. he was in his element and he knew it. "no offense, chief," said yellin' kid, humbly and in subdued tones. "but i do want to get a shot at these fellers!" "i wonder if del pinzo can be back of this gang?" mused nort as he rode beside his brother toward the glen. "i wouldn't put it past him," answered dick. "but i thought he was in jail." "they don't seem to make, out here, the kind of jails that will keep del pinzo behind the bars," commented nort. "if he's around these diggings he'd be the very one to engineer some dirty trick." "speaking of diggings," went on dick, "what do you reckon it was bud saw those fellows digging out of the sides of the cave?" "give it up, for the time being. we'll find out when we get inside. but in spite of the fact that bud thinks he saw some queer operations he may have dreamed it all--after that gas attack, you know." "yea, i guess so. it's queer all around. fancy rustlers being so up to date as to use the tactics of chemical warfare." "there's been a lot of strange things since the big war," stated nort. "maybe some of these rustlers were in the chemical division of the a.e.f. and learned tricks there of how to make and send out of cylinders gas that would knock a man out but not kill him." "that's possible. but what about the horses, cattle and men who were killed here in death valley? i mean years ago, the way billee tells it. did these fellows have anything to do with that?" "hard to say, but i don't believe so." "then what did?" "that's what we've got to find out after we get through with this gang." the avengers urged their ponies ahead at a fast clip and the sun was still far from the meridian when they came in sight of the entrance to the defile. dark and sinister it loomed in contrast to the brightness of the day. what secrets did it hold? "i wonder if old tosh is up there, helping the rustlers?" mused dick as billee got ready to call a halt and deploy his forces. "don't believe that old yarb doctor does any more harm than giving chinks the stomach-ache," chuckled nort. "but he may have rented that cave to those fellows." "nervy of him, considering that the cave is on dot and dash land," said dick. it did not take long to get ready for the attack. billee named the men he wanted to remain as a rear guard in charge of the horses, and they accepted the detail in as cheerful spirits as possible. to the relief of yellin' kid and snake purdee, they were not compelled to remain thus inactive. "though you fellows may have a fight on your hands," billee said to the horse guard as he posted them, "these fellows may dash out after we rouse 'em, and it'll be up to you to deal with 'em." "we'll do that all right, boss," chuckled a big, lanky puncher, one of the new hands hired. with nort and dick at his side, billee dobb led the way up into the dark defile. every man had his gun out and was eager-eyed for what might happen next. "don't make any more noise than you can help," cautioned billee to the men back of him. "we want to surprise these _hombres_ if we can." on and on they went, over big and little bowlders, up into the glen where the frowning, towering walls looked down on them. the passage became narrower. they were now approaching the cave. "steady, boys!" called billee as they rounded a turn and came within view of the dark entrance to the cavern. it was a tense moment. some of the men carried a gun in either hand. nort and dick had one each, and billee was armed likewise. a little wind began blowing down the gulch in the faces of the attackers. it seemed to bring with it a slight mist. "gettin' foggy," commented snake. "i wonder----" then he began to cough and choke. so did nort, dick and old billee. the white mist came floating nearer. "look out, boys!" suddenly shouted yellin' kid. "it's a gas attack, same as in the war. look out!" a moment later the party was sneezing, coughing and gasping for breath as the faint white mist, blown by the wind, enveloped them. it caused a terrible, gripping sensation, a constriction of the throat muscles so that breathing was difficult. "they've got us!" yelled billee. "we can't fight poison gas! back up, boys! we've got to run!" it was impossible to advance in the face of this mysterious surprise attack and the avengers were driven back. gasping, and trying to keep from collapsing under the afflicting sensation, the dot and dash men were forced to retreat from their unseen foes. chapter xix gas masks "hold on!" yelled snake purdee as he swung around a ledge at the edge of the narrow entrance to smugglers' glen and made a grab at nort who was running as fast as he could under the weakening influence of the gas. "it's all right here--the wind will blow the stuff to the east. swing around here, everybody!" and he indicated a niche to the west of the entrance. nort stopped, his brain dully comprehending what snake meant. then the others in the wild, frightened retreat sensed what the words were intended to convey and, one after another, they gathered there in comparative safety with snake, nort and dick. "whew!" gasped billee dobb whose age was telling on him, not only in the rapid, forced retreat, but in the effect of the gas. "that was tough! but what makes you think we'll be safe here, snake?" "on account of the wind blowing the gas away from us. look, there it floats to the east. we're safe here. i didn't get nearly gassed in the war for nothing. we're safe here till the wind shifts and it won't do that right away." "what about the horses?" gasped dick, taking deep breaths to rid himself of the gas already breathed. "they're all right--they're up wind, too!" shouted yellin' kid, whose lungs did not seem to have suffered much. this was true enough. the ponies, with the guard of cowboys, were to the west of the gorge entrance and, as snake had been quick to observe, the strange, white mist which had so mysteriously floated out of the cave toward the avengers, was drifting, now, out of the mouth of the defile and off to the east. "if any of the cattle get in the path of that they'll be killed!" exclaimed dick, noting how the mist clung to the ground and rolled along as fog sometimes does when the clouds are low. "the bunch isn't down there," said billee. "and i don't know as that gas is so very deadly after all," stated snake, breathing deep after a few cautious inhalations to make sure the air was clear. "then what'd you run for?" yellin' kid wanted to know. "because i wasn't sure of what sort of stuff it was. there's lots of kinds of gas, you know. we had one kind in the war that would just knock a man out for a few hours. i reckon that's the kind they shot at bud and the kind they just now loosed at us. but i wasn't takin' any chances!" "i should say not!" cried billee dobb. "but now we're out of danger for a while, what's to be done next?" nort had the answer ready in a moment. "gas masks!" he exclaimed. "gas masks?" echoed billee. "sure! i get you!" cried snake. "that's the ticket! gas masks! same as we used in war when the germans let their gas loose. why didn't i think of it before?" "there's been so much happening!" remarked dick, "that it's a wonder we thought of half we did. but gas masks would be just what is needed here. only where are we going to get them?" up spoke one of the new cowboys to observe: "there's a branch of the american legion in los pompan. i belong to it and so do some of the other boys. 'tain't much of a branch, but they got some war relics hangin' around the meetin' room, and i seen some gas masks there the last time i was in. i reckon we can borrow them without any trouble." "golly! that's the cheese!" cried nort. "but are the masks any good?" dick asked. "if they're relics of the war they're likely to be old and no good. and a gas mask that won't keep gas out is worse than none at all." "you're right there!" exclaimed sim roller, who had proposed the matter. "some of the masks are the same as the boys used in france. but others are new ones they got from the gov'ment lately to decorate the meetin' room. i reckon they'd be fresh, with charcoal in and everything needed." "will you see if you can get some for us?" asked billee, who was in charge during the forced absence of bud. "sure!" "good!" cried nort. "then we'll come back and have another go at these fellows!" "yes, it will need another go," remarked billee, looking at the entrance to the defile out of which a faint mist was still floating. "we don't dare go back at 'em now, unprotected. they're regular devils, that's what they are! devils!" "wonder what their game is?" mused dick as he and his brother, with the other cowboys, moved to where their horses were picketed in charge of the guard. "they want to keep us out of that glen," suggested nort. "but why?" went on dick. "so they can poison more cattle and bust up this ranch and rustle what stock they don't kill," was what nort answered. "it doesn't seem reasonable that they'd poison cattle," and dick shook his head. "what good would dead ones be to them? they can't be sold, and it wouldn't pay to kill 'em just for the hides." "no, that's so," admitted nort. "but they evidently want to keep us out of that glen, and drive us away from the ranch if possible, so they can have it for themselves." "part of that seems like to be true," spoke billee, taking a part in the discussion. "but this isn't the first time there have been queer doings at dot and dash. years ago i'm pretty sure there was no band of devils up here with cylinders of gas. this is something new." "tell me, billee," resumed nort, "on what sections of the ranch did most of the deaths occur--i mean when you worked here?" "well," and the veteran scratched his head reflectively, "as near as i can remember they was all somewhere near this glen, come to think of it." "and this is where sam tarbell's horse was killed and where sam was knocked out--near this glen; wasn't it?" went on nort. "that's true enough." "and it's from this glen that bud got his dose of poison gas and where, just now, we got ours; isn't it?" "sure," billee was forced to say. "well, then," went on nort, "isn't it reasonable to suppose that this band--or some bunch like it--has been doing this right along?" here billee shook his head. "you can't make me believe," he said, "that this gang, or one like it, has been doin' this gas business all along. in the first place the earliest, mysterious death on dot and dash took place many years ago, before poison gas in war was thought of. i won't deny that this bunch back there," and he nodded in the direction of smugglers' glen, "i won't deny but what they may be usin' war gas. but it wasn't so years ago.". "then it looks," spoke dick, "as if these men had some object in keeping us out of the glen." "that's it!" cried billee. "there's something up there they don't want us to find out." "maybe it's the secret old tosh has of makin' sarsaparilla," said snake. "no," objected dick, "i don't believe the old man is mixed up in this at all. he was in the cave, that's sure, but i think this bunch of rascals with their poison gas have deposed him and taken possession for their own ends." "and what those ends are it's for us to find out," suggested nort. "sure!" cried his companions. "we'll get gas masks and make another attack!" added snake. "i wonder what we'll find?" mused dick. "bud could have told if they hadn't knocked him out," suggested nort. "he says he saw them pounding rocks and digging in the sides of the cave. they were after something besides cattle, that's sure." "diamonds!" some one said. "that's been mentioned before," remarked dick. "it is out of the question, i think, but it may be something always associated with diamonds." "what's that?" exclaimed several. "gold, maybe," was the quick answer, and into the eyes of every man there came a sudden, new gleam. "by golly!" cried yellin' kid in his loudest tones, "i'll bet you're right! there's a gold mine in that cave and those fellers want to keep it for themselves! whoopee! let's get them there gas masks and rustle the whole bunch over the border. then we'll have the gold for ourselves! come on!" chapter xx glittering yellow such excitement followed the kid's outburst that the very horses seemed imbued with it. the cowboys, keeping well out of the way of that floating, white cloud of gas--more or less poisonous, it was not to be doubted--had mounted their animals and were on their way, by a roundabout trail, to the ranch house. "gold!" muttered snake. "do you really think there's gold in that cave?" "it would not be beyond the bounds of possibility," dick replied. "i'm not a geologist, and i don't know anything about mining. but the west is the home of gold, and so is mexico. we're not far from mexico. what's to prevent a ledge or seam of gold from running up into these hills, or small mountains, and cropping out in that cave? what's to prevent?" "nothing!" came from billee, a new light in his eyes. "it would be very natural, i think," added nort. "that would account for what bud saw--the men picking away at the stone sides of the cave," went on dick. "and the roof and sides are of rock--that my brother and i saw." "then we're on the right track!" cried snake joyfully. "i been tryin' to figger out what all this meant, but i see it now. the other poison attacks, where cattle and men died, didn't have nothin' to do with the gas we just now ran away from. somebody else must have been the blame of that, or maybe it wasn't poison gas at all--might 'a' been just bad water or loco-weed. but this is different." "yes," agreed nort, "this is different. we know, positively, that this gas attack was launched by men." "men who want to keep us out of that cave 'cause it's full of gold!" murmured old billee. "boys, for once i see daylight ahead of me! i'm goin' to turn miner! i'm through nursin' cattle! i'm goin' to dig gold and retire rich! by golly, i am!" "you better wait until we see the color of pay dirt!" chuckled snake. "and until we get those fellows out!" added another cowboy. "oh, we'll git them out soon as we have them gas masks!" declared billee, who seldom had shown such enthusiasm. "by golly, at last i see daylight! i'll soon lay this on the shelf," and he patted his old lariat. "i hope he isn't disappointed," murmured dick to his brother. "do you really believe there's a chance of finding gold in that cave?" nort asked in a low voice. "i really do. why else would those fellows want to keep us out? it can't be that it's a mere cattle-rustling game." "no," admitted nort, "i don't believe it's that. but--gold! seems sort of far-fetched." "well, maybe i'm wrong," went on dick. "but we'll soon find out, if those gas masks are any good." on the way back to the circle of ranch buildings a close lookout was kept for any sign of intruders on the range of dot and dash. but no strangers were seen, nor did a casual survey of the various herds scattered over the plains disclose any casualties. "i guess everything that happens takes place around smugglers' gulch," observed dick. "seems so," admitted his brother. no one had suffered any serious results from the gas attack. it had been discovered so quickly, and the retreat had been made so promptly, thanks to snake's vigilance, that aside from a little irritation of their mouths and throats the attackers were not injured. the irritation soon passed away and was about gone when they neared the ranch. "they were just teasing us that time," decided snake. "the next time they'll shoot some real nasty gas at us." "and that's the time we'll be ready with the masks," declared nort. bud merkel was as excited as either of his cousins when he heard the news. he declared no better plan could be devised than going against the unknown cave dwellers with gas masks and a telephone message was soon on the way, asking the commander of the los pompan branch of the american legion for the loan of as many of the protectors as were needed. in due time word came back that the dot and dash ranchers were quite welcome to the masks. snake and kid, as experts in their use, and as judges of the best ones to bring back, were sent as a committee into town to get the life-saving apparatus. it was next day, when the gas masks had been tried on by the cowboys who were to use them, and plans were being talked over for a second attack, that nort suggested: "maybe we ought to try these masks before we use them. they may be defective in spite of the fact that they look all right." "not a bad idea," agreed bud. "but we haven't any poison gas to try 'em with." "if we could go in a room filled with ammonia, or some such vapor as that, we could soon tell if the masks were any good," dick suggested. dr. taylor was communicated with and agreed to supply from his somewhat limited laboratory sufficient fumes to make a sure test of the masks. he came out to the ranch, a small room was set aside for the experiment and into this vile chamber the men went one at a time, each one wearing the mask that was designed to protect him in the coming fight. with the exception of one or two of the affairs, each one was gas proof and the defective ones were quickly replaced with good ones. so that in a comparatively short time the avengers were once more ready to make the attack. much the same tactics were observed as on the former occasion. the horses were left well out of reach of any clouds of vapor that might float from the ravine, and the guards were instructed to deploy their reserve cavalry to east or west, according to the direction of the wind, in case gas was noted coming out of the defile. "well, i reckon we're all ready," observed old billee on a certain morning a few days after the first failure. "how about it, bud?" "all set," answered the ranch owner's son, for he had recovered from the gas he had inhaled and was quite fit again. "let's go!" he cried. the cavalcade moved forward, and when within about the same distance as before from the defile, the horses were led aside, the guard posted and the men again advanced up the gorge. "don't make any more noise than you can help," warned bud, as one of the men rattled some of the loose stones. "oh, i think they know we're coming," said dick. "you do? how?" "well, naturally they have scouts posted. we'd do the same if we were in their position. they know we're coming, all right." "perhaps so," bud admitted. "well, everybody have his mask ready to slip on as soon as gas is smelled." "what if they use a kind we can't smell until it's too late?" asked dick. "well, that's a chance we have to take," said bud with a shrug of his shoulders. "i think i shall smell it all right," snake interjected. "i was pretty good at that sort of thing in the war. the officers said i had a mighty good nose--for smelling i mean," he made haste to add for fear his pals would accuse him of personal vanity. "in some of the trenches they used rats and canary birds to give warning of gas. but i was the official smeller for my bunch, and i got so i was pretty good at it if i do say it myself." "then we'll make you the advance guard," decided bud, and so it was arranged. up the gulch they marched, with guns and gas masks ready, and once more, as on the former occasion, they were just within sight of the cave when snake cried: "gas! gas!" at once each man donned his protector, and then, looking like prehistoric monsters the crowd, led by bud, nort, dick and old billee rushed to the attack. the same white wisps of vapor floated down into the faces of the avengers, but there was no turning back now. there was no choking or gasping. the gas masks were a perfect protection. dick's surmise that the advancing party was being spied on seemed to be correct, since before they reached the cave shots came from the cavern, and there was the vicious whine and ping of bullets. one or two of the cowboys were hit, one seriously, and then the avengers began shooting on their own account. bud gave the signal for a rush attack and eagerly he and his comrades sprang forward. they passed a little trench near the mouth of the cave. in this shallow ditch were several iron cylinders from holes of which was pouring a white vapor. this was the gas, how deadly could only be surmised for the masks kept all fumes and effects of it from the attackers. there was a current of air from the cave blowing down the defile and this carried the fumes away from the hidden men and into the ranks of the attackers. this direction of the wind explained why no gas masks were needed by the foe. the wind was their protection. and the fact that they wore no masks was soon demonstrated. for as the attackers swept on and up to the cave they dislodged several of the first line fighters of their foes--rough, ugly-looking men who sprang up from amid the rocks and, after firing their last shots, turned and ran into the cavern. not one wore a mask. in a few minutes the attackers were safely back of the gas-emitting cylinders and could take off their masks for the wind carried the fumes away from them. yanking his protector off, bud shouted: "into the cave after them!" the rush was made. a sight was had of a crowd of men retreating into the black depths of the cavern. the cowboys fired at them and were shot at in turn, nort receiving a nasty scratch from a bullet along his shoulder, and his brother stopping a lead slug in the fleshy part of his thigh. bud was nipped on the hand and several of the other cowboys were more or less painfully injured. some damage was inflicted on the foe, for there were yells of pain from several and one man was seen to fall. he was quickly picked up by his pals, however, and carried into the far end of the cave. then, when it grew dark as the daylight faded, a short distance beyond the entrance, bud called a halt on further pursuit. "no use going back there when we don't know what's beyond," he said. "we've driven 'em out, and we can have a look, now, and see what secret they have been guarding." when snake and kid, again donning their masks, had shut off the flow of gas from the cylinders, a precaution taken against a possible change of wind, flashlights were produced and a close inspection of the cave was begun. it was evident that the men who had been in it, and who had relied on gas to keep intruders out, had made their escape through some rear exit, or they might still be hiding in the depths of the cavern. extra powerful portable electric torches had been brought by the exploring party and these were turned, now, on different parts of the rocky walls and roof of the cave. bud showed where he had been held a prisoner, and it did not take long to find places where digging had been going on. as the lights flashed over the rough, rocky walls, there were reflected back glistening yellow slivers of illumination. "look!" cried dick, pointing. "there it is! gold!" "gold! gold!" came in joyful shouts from the exulting cowboys. "we've found a gold mine!" and truly it seemed so. chapter xxi false security only those, probably very few of you, who have ever taken part in a gold rush can understand and appreciate the wild excitement that prevailed when the flashing lights revealed the rock of the cave to be seamed and studded with yellow veins and patches. it aroused even the most lethargic of the cowboys. and, truth to tell, none of them were very strongly of that type. they were accustomed to live amid excitement of one kind or another, and this was but a new sort. "gold! gold!" was the exulting murmur on all sides. "there's enough here to make us all rich!" cried yellin' kid, his loud voice echoing through the cavern. "no more ridin' fence for me!" cried snake. "me, i'm going to have one of them pianos that plays itself!" declared billee, whose soul, hitherto, had been obliged to get its feast of music from a mouth organ. "and look where them hombres have been takin' out our gold!" exclaimed yellin' kid as he flashed his light on a wall where, unmistakably, excavating had been going on. there were signs of new digging in the rock and dirt of the cave's sides and the ground beneath showed a litter of debris. "you ought to make 'em pay for all they took out!" declared snake to bud. "maybe it would be a good idea to catch 'em first," suggested dick, quietly. "well, that's so. we'll do that after we have begun to dig out the gold," decided the cowboy. "oh, boy! look at the yaller stuff!" and he picked up what seemed to be a nugget of great value. it was of gleaming yellow and heavy in his hand. the boy ranchers were no whit less excited than their older companions. but perhaps the finding of the gold mine, in which, knowing mr. merkel's generosity, the cowboys believed they all would share, meant more to the older men than it did to the boys. the latter were, in a sense, owners of the ranch and were not doomed to days and nights of hard work on the range. there was a brighter future before them, because of their advantageous position, than there was ahead of billee and the others. up to now the old cowboys had seen nothing but a hard life (though there were enjoyable spots here and there) and they counted on dying with their boots on, not from violence, perhaps, so much as from wearing out at their labors. now they saw a chance of getting rich quickly, or, if not exactly rich, at least of gaining a competence. no wonder they were excited. "boy howdy! i can't hardly believe it!" shouted yellin' kid. "first time i was ever on a ranch that developed gold!" "it's the first for me, too," said bud. "what's the best thing to do?" asked nort, of no one in particular. "hadn't the boss better file a claim of discovery?" suggested a cowboy who said he had once lived in california. "he don't need to file nothin'!" declared billee. "this gold is found on mr. merkel's land. everything on the land is hissen. he can work the gold mine same as he can his cattle ranges." that seemed to be the consensus of opinion and it was decided that all remaining to be done was to inform bud's father of the discovery, start to work the claim and take the profit. "and clean out them rascals!" added billee. "oh, sure!" agreed bud. "it's queer, though," he went on as he flashed his light about the cave, "that if gold has been here since the beginning, as it must have, that the secret of it only just now got out. and if the gang that's been working this mine has been shooting out poison gas to keep people away from here, why didn't some rumor of this gold strike filter out before?" "there's something wrong," declared billee. "i don't believe the deaths that took place in this here valley, from the time i knowed about 'em, had anything to do with this gold cave. i'm sure they didn't. and, what's more, this claim has only been worked recent like. you can tell that by the fresh marks of the digging." this was plain to all, and the more they thought of it the more of a puzzle it was. clearly poison gas, if such it was, had only recently been used to guard the approach to the cave. what, then, was the explanation of the former mysterious deaths? but the boys and their friends were so excited over the discovery of the yellow metal that they gave little heed to this phase of the matter. all the talk had to do with getting out the ore and finding how much it assayed to the ton. "but we can't let the cattle business slide; can we?" asked dick, as he and most of the others prepared to depart. a guard was to be left in the cave, and sufficient food and supplies would be sent them to enable them to remain on constant duty. "oh, no, we won't give up the cattle business," decided bud. "we'll work that and the mine, too." mr. merkel was duly astonished when, that night, his son succeeded in getting in touch with him over the long-distance telephone from los pompan. bud found a booth to talk from which insured his conversation not being broadcast in the town. if news of the gold strike got out it might mean a rush. not that any land around the gulch or cave could be preëmpted by others, for it was all on mr. merkel's ranch. but not everybody would respect his property rights and there might be trouble. "are you sure it's gold, son?" asked the ranchman over the wire. "why of course it is, dad. what else could it be?" "i don't know. but i'm going to make sure before i start a torch-light procession. i'll send you out a good mining man. don't do anything until he arrives, and keep your shirts on--all of you." "all right, dad. i know what you mean. we won't broadcast it." "better not. there might be a slip-up, you know." "i don't see how there can be, but we'll keep it mum." busy days followed at dot and dash. while the cattle business was not passed up, bud and his cousins devoted all their time to the discovery in the cave, and let the new cowboys attend to the shipping and care of the cattle. some of the yellow ore was dug out and taken to the ranch house to await the arrival of the mining expert. meanwhile it was carefully guarded. covering several days a careful exploration of the cave had been made without discovering any of the enemy. there were several exits from the cavern, and it was surmised that the "gas gang," as they were dubbed, had escaped by one of these. "but as long as they're gone, we haven't anything to worry about," said bud. "we're sitting pretty now." "nothing to worry about," added nort. "and i guess we won't find any more dead cattle," said dick. "it must have been some of the gas they were experimenting with that killed the cows and sam's horse." "sure!" assented bud. thus were the boys lulled into a false security, and their fond dreams were not shattered for several days. it was on the afternoon of the day before the mine expert was to arrive that bud, nort and dick, riding toward the cave to find out how matters were progressing there, saw, on a hillside some distance away from the glen, a number of motionless lumps. "looks like some of the steers from the main herd had strayed and were taking a siesta," suggested nort. "yes," admitted bud, slowly. "but i wonder----" suddenly he put spurs to his pony and dashed toward the dark objects. his cousins followed and as they got near enough they saw that the cows, far from taking a siesta, were in their last sleep. "they're dead!" exclaimed bud. "dead same as the others were--from gas, or something. boys, that gang is back again!" "then it's all up with the men on guard at the mine!" cried nort. chapter xxii to the rescue there was no use wasting any time or sympathy over the dead cattle. they were dead beyond a doubt, a fact which was easily proved. and yet, as before, there was not a sign of anything that showed how they had met their death. the bodies lay in a natural position, as though the animals had been overcome when grazing and had sunk gently down. or as if they had succumbed to some gentle poison that brought a painless death. "well, if this isn't the limit!" cried bud while his cousins looked at him and at each other with wonder on their faces. "of all the rotten things to do!" snapped out nort. "to kill these poor cattle! why doesn't that gang fight like men if they want to give battle--not spray their dirty poison gas around dumb beasts?" "it is pretty rotten," agreed dick. bud was carefully scanning the ground in the vicinity of the dead cattle, at the same time cautiously sniffing the air to detect any possible taint. but he seemed to discover nothing. dick and nort followed his example, but were unable to come upon any clew. however, not far from where the half dozen valuable animals had dropped dead there was a little crack or rift in the earth. it was a sort of opening between two long ridges of rocks, there being an outcropping of stone at this point. it was part of the two ridges which, suddenly rising higher, formed the walls of smugglers' glen farther to the south. dick was the first to notice it. "see anything there?" asked bud, noting that his cousin was bending over the cleft in the surface. "no, i can't see anything and i can't smell anything," he added, as he bent closer. "but i can hear something!" added nort. "hear something?" questioned bud. "yes, the sound of running water down there. listen!" he bent with his ear over the crack in the rocks. and in the silence, broken only by the slight movements of their ponies, from which they had dismounted, the boys heard the murmur as of water flowing along far under ground. "i'm afraid that doesn't mean anything," said bud when he had signified that he, too, heard the ripple. "dad said there were a lot of underground streams around here. this one must come from the little brook that flows through smugglers' glen. it takes a dip down under the rocks and comes to the surface again farther on." "i guess you're right," admitted dick. "it doesn't mean anything. but i didn't know there was underground water in this section." "oh, yes, plenty of it," bud added. "i've seen other places with rock fissures like this where you could hear water bubbling along beneath the surface." "then this goes into the discard," spoke nort, meaning that it was useless to form any theory about the mysterious deaths if it was to be based on the underground streams. "but we'd better get on to the cave mine!" cried bud. "if those fellows are at their poison gas game again, it's likely that sam tarbell and the fellows we left on guard are in as bad shape as these cows. darn the luck, anyhow!" "that's what i say!" chimed in nort as the three hastened to where they had left their ponies. "just as we thought we were sitting pretty, with nothing to worry about, along comes this! wonder how they worked the game, anyhow?" "they must have got back in the cave--probably from the end where they ran out the time we chased 'em with our gas masks on," said dick. "they sneaked up on our fellows, let loose a cloud of gas, put them out of business and then came down here to kill the cows." "but that's what i can't understand," said bud. "why should they go to the trouble of killing cows? cows can't spy on those gold mine jumpers. cows can't get out any gold. it's all so useless, this killing of our beasts." "i guess they're just natural devils as billee claims," suggested nort. "but we'll pay 'em back!" "you bet we will!" exclaimed bud. "and now to the rescue! we've got to save sam and his crowd if we can!" they galloped their ponies in the direction of the glen, and reached the opening to the sinister defile in record time. nor did they stop to dismount. rough as was the way, they rode their mounts up the valley until they came within sight of the cave. nor were they stopped, and they detected no gas, though they were on the alert for it. "maybe it's a false alarm," suggested nort. "maybe our fellows didn't suffer from a gas attack after all." "well, the cows certainly did!" exclaimed his brother. however their worst fears were realized when, as they flung themselves off their horses at the mouth of the cave they saw, just within, the prostrate forms of sam tarbell and his companion guards. stark and silent the men lay there. "we're too late!" muttered bud sorrowfully. "they're all dead!" echoed nort. "this is death valley sure enough!" came gloomily from dick. there was a movement within the cave. there sounded the rattling echoes of dislodged stones. "some one's coming!" murmured bud, drawing his gun. a moment later there emerged from the cavern the form of old tosh. he did not appear surprised to see the boys, nor to note the prostrate forms of the men. in one hand he held a bottle of his elixer and waving it over his head he cried: "i'm just in time! come on, boys, help me! we'll save 'em yet!" chapter xxiii testing the gold mine any suspicions which the boy ranchers held against the old man vanished quickly as they saw the eagerness with which he went to work to save, if possible, the men on guard at the cave gold mine. bud and his cousins had, naturally, held back a little against approaching the stark, prostrate forms too closely. they were still young enough to be, at a time like this, unduly impressed by death. but old tosh, as he was generally called, went at the business as if he were a doctor intent on saving lives in desperate danger. he opened a bottle of his elixer, and, though the boys thought it pitifully weak stuff for the occasion, he appeared to have unbounded faith in it. raising the head of sam tarbell, the old man placed the bottle to the silent lips, tipped it up and managed to force a little into the cow puncher's mouth. "come on, you boys!" tosh called to nort, dick and bud. "you got to help. i can't do this all alone. i'm just in time. i knew this would happen. they're on the verge of death but i'll save them." "i'm afraid you're too late," said bud. "no, i'm not. these men are alive yet. all they need is a little stimulant to bring 'em around. they didn't get much of a dose of the poison gas. if they had, not even my elixer could save 'em. but it can now. come on, there's another bottle in my coat pocket. reach it out and get busy, boys!" bud made a jump to do as directed. and as he was taking the second bottle from the old man's coat, while tosh was still administering the medicine to sam, bud could not help wondering whether the queer hermit had anything to do with loosing the flood of gas against the mine guards. it was no time, now, however, to make such an inquiry. bud and his cousins gave ned frosh and bill dungan each some of the elixer, raising the men's heads and forcing the liquid between their lips as they had seen tosh do. as for the hermit, he went from sam to a puncher who rejoiced in the name of slippery mike, giving him a good dose. and then, strange as it may see, each of the four guards revived, opened his eyes and sat up. they had dazed looks on their faces, but were unharmed. "what happened?" asked bud of sam, who was the leader in charge of the force guarding the gold mine. "did those fellows come back and shoot gas at you?" "i don't rightly know what did happen," sam answered. "if those fellows came back we didn't see 'em. but there was sure some gas, for it hit us all of a sudden and keeled us over before we knew it. how did you get here, and what's he doing here?" sam pointed at the old man. "he got here soon after we did," nort explained. "and i guess it's lucky he did. that stuff he gave you brought you fellows back to life." "it's strong enough to make a mud turtle race with a jack rabbit!" chuckled slippery mike. "but it isn't bad, at that. if i could have another swig of it----" old tosh hospitably held out the bottle. "'twon't hurt you," he said. "it's life's elixer." "but how'd you know we was knocked out?" asked sam when each of the guards had taken some more of the medicine. "it only happened a little while ago." "and we only came a little while ago," said dick. "we were out on the range and we saw some dead cattle. right away we jumped to the conclusion that you had been poisoned with gas same as the steers. so we came here and found you stretched out. then along came mr. tosh and he did the right thing, it seems." "did you know this had happened?" asked bud of the old man. "what, that these men had been gassed? no, i wasn't aware of it," answered the hermit. "i came back here to see if those men had gone away from my cave--the cave where they drove me out. i wanted to use it again, for there's no better place for brewing my elixer. i went in the cave from the other end, and when i got here i saw you men stretched out. i knew what had happened, right away." "but did you see any of those rustlers, holdup men, or whatever they are, with their gas cylinders?" asked bud. "no, i didn't," was the reply. "i don't know anything about gas cylinders. the poison gas doesn't come in cylinders. it comes out----" "oh, yes, it does come in cylinders, and it comes out of them," interrupted bud. "we have some of the cylinders that we captured when we drove the men out of the gold mine." "gold mine?" excitedly cried the old man. "where's a gold mine?" "in that cave," and bud pointed to it. "the cave where we saw you brewing your pot of herbs. didn't you know there was gold there?" old tosh shook his head. "i don't take much stock in gold," he said. "but i liked that cave because it was so sheltered. only, sometimes, i couldn't stay in it on account of the gas." "that's the gas we mean," explained nort. "the poison gas these men sprayed out of cylinders to keep us away so we wouldn't find there was gold in the cave. but we got gas masks and drove 'em out." again old tosh shook his head. "i don't know anything about gas in cylinders," he said. "but then i been away a long time, in another county, getting different kinds of herbs. my elixer is better than ever now and stronger." "i'll say it's strong!" declared slippery mike. "so i came back to see if i could use my cave," went on old tosh. "now about this gas----" but he was not allowed to go on, for bud, seeing the effect of the elixer on sam and his companions had a new thought. "will that save the dead steers--i mean the steers that seem to be dead?" he asked the hermit. "there's half a dozen of 'em out on the hill, and----" "no," replied tosh, "this stuff won't bring the dead back to life. it will only revive where a spark of life remains. and, in any case, it isn't effective on animals. it is only for humans." "then our steers are dead," sighed dick. "guess that's a foregone conclusion," agreed nort. "but what do you think of him, anyhow?" he asked bud in a whisper, indicating tosh. "you mean do i have any suspicions against him?" "yes. do you think he may have gotten hold of a cylinder of the poison gas and sprayed it on these men so as to get a chance to use his elixer to revive them?" before bud could answer there was a noise as of men and horses coming up the defile, and, thinking it was some of the former gang returning, guns were whipped out. but they were not needed. two mild-mannered and inoffensive appearing men rode into sight. they had the look of college professors. behind them rode billee dobb. "hello, boys!" greeted billee, all unaware of the recent sensational happenings. "here's the mine experts your dad sent out to look over our gold prospects, bud. they're going to test the quality of the ore, and see how much it assays to the ton. that's the right way to express it; ain't it?" he turned to the older of the two men. "that is perfectly correct, mr. dobb. and if you will show us the mine we can soon tell you, approximately, how valuable it is." "it's in that cave. you'll find lots of gold there. and the first lot that comes to me is goin' to be spent for a self-playin' piano. but what happened here?" billee asked, for he was now aware that something unusual had taken place. "the darn scoundrels!" he exclaimed when he had been told of the death of the cattle and the plight of the men. "so they come back; did they? well, we'll soon have a big force here takin' out gold and we'll keep better guard." meanwhile the mining experts went into the cavern to test the gold mine. chapter xxiv a strange discovery billee dobb, having listened to the stories of bud and his cousins, and the tale told by sam and his pals, shook his head dubiously. "i can't figger it all out," he said. "but you sure done a noble job, tosh, and we thank you for it. can you tell us anything about those rascals with their tanks of gas?" "i don't know nothin' about gas tanks," said the old man. "but more than once i've warned you men about----" what the warning was he did not get a chance to explain, for at that moment professor dodson, the mine expert, with his assistant, professor snath, emerged from the interior of the cave, into whose black depths they had disappeared some time ago, while bud and the others were talking. "by golly!" exclaimed billee, suddenly changing the subject. "they got their report ready pretty quick. i reckon the gold's so thick in there they don't need to make much of a test. whoopee! i'll soon have my self-playin' piano!" he was as eager and excited as a boy. indeed bud and his cousins were not a little excited as they looked at the two scientists who came out carrying specimens of ore which they had knocked off the walls of the cave with their peculiar hammers. "didn't take you long," commented bud. "no, this was an easy problem," answered professor dodson. "we don't even need an assay to determine our findings." "by golly! what do you know about that?" cried billee. "about how many dollars will she run to the ton?" he asked. "i only want to know _about_," he stipulated. "i won't pin you down by five or ten dollars, 'cause i think that wouldn't be fair. but roughly about how much do you think our mine will assay to the ton?" "how much what?" asked professor dodson with a peculiar smile. "how much what to the ton?" "how much gold, of course!" exclaimed billee. "what else? gold's what we want; ain't it?" and he chuckled as he turned to his friends. "sure--gold!" was the murmur. "then i'm sorry to have to tell you that there is not one ounce of gold in any number of tons of ore and rock in that cave!" was the unexpected and startling answer. "there isn't any gold at all." "no gold!" cried bud. "no gold!" echoed his cousins. "no--no--gold!" faltered billee dobb, his jaw falling. he saw his self-playing piano fading back into the dim vista of his dreams. "no gold," repeated professor dodson. "what we have here," and he indicated the ore specimens held by himself and professor snath, "is a selected lot of samples of iron sulphid. it is a yellow ore that looks very much like gold, but which has none of the properties of real gold. in fact it is so often mistaken for the valuable metal that it has come to be called 'fools' gold.' i am sorry, but such is the case. i shall so report to mr. merkel, who engaged me to come out here after hearing his son's account." "fools' gold!" murmured bud. "well, it fooled us all right." "yes, and it fooled those other fellows," said nort. "the men with the gas cylinders," he added. as the two professors looked a little puzzled, dick explained: "there were some men hiding in this cave who must have thought, the same as we did, that it contained gold. they drove out mr. tosh, who used the cavern to brew his medicine. then they drove us out. they used tanks of some poison gas, or at least gas that made a man unconscious. we had to put on gas masks, the kind used in the war, to fight 'em. but we drove 'em out." "and a lot of good it did us," said bud gloomingly, "if there isn't any gold in there." "no, the evidence is too plain to be mistaken," said professor snath. "it does not even require a laboratory test to prove that the cave is rich in iron sulphid, but not gold." "maybe it will turn out to be an iron mine instead of a gold mine!" put in billee, with new hope showing on his face. "iron's valuable. not worth as much as gold, of course, but a good iron mine--say, boys, maybe i'll get that self-playin' piano yet." but again his hopes were dashed. "it wouldn't pay to work this section even for iron," said professor dodson, and his assistant nodded his agreement. "well, then," remarked nort, "we'll have to keep on raising cattle." "but we can't do that if these fellows are going to let loose a flood of poison gas and kill them off every now and then!" bitterly cried bud. "we're beat either way you look at it. just as you said, billee, this is death valley." "tell me more about this!" suddenly suggested the older scientist. "what is all this about poison gas in tanks killing cattle?" "i can tell you!" came from old tosh. "i know all about it but nobody would ever listen to me. they said i was crazy. but i know! look here!" he pointed to a crack, or fissure in the rocky floor of the glen, not far from the cave entrance. it was just such a crack as bud and his cousins had noticed one day near the place where they had found some dead cattle. "listen to that! it's rising!" cried old tosh, bending over the crack. the two professors, the boy ranchers and some of the punchers leaned over and listened. from somewhere down in the depths of the earth came the rustle and swish of running water. "an underground stream," said professor dodson. "they are not uncommon in this region. but----" suddenly he started back and withdrew his face quickly from above the crack in the earth. "hurry away from here!" he cried. "the gas is rising. i begin to understand now. it is the secret you have been trying to solve. hurry away! it may not be deadly, but it will overcome all of us in a short time." he ran down the defile, away from the long fissure, followed by the others, billee and his men driving the ponies before them. professor dodson had made a strange discovery, after old tosh had put him on the track of it. chapter xxv the end of death valley hurrying along, some of the men in their saddles, others stumbling on foot, not having taken the time to mount, the whole party rushed out of the defile. it was not until they had reached open country, some distance removed from the entrance to smugglers' glen, that the older scientist thought it safe to call a halt. and he did not do this until he had looked around, with his assistant, to make sure there were no earth fissures near, and had also ascertained the direction of the wind. he tested the air by breathing deeply of it and said: "we're safe for a time. but there's no telling how long. this is a most remarkable natural phenomenon--one of the most remarkable i have ever happened upon." "very remarkable," agreed professor snath. "but what's it all about?" asked bud. "we've seen those earth cracks before." "and near the place where there were dead cattle," added nort. "we heard running water down below, too," was dick's contribution to the general information. "those cracks go down to the bed of an underground stream," explained professor dodson. "the subterranean river, brook or whatever it is, must flow a long distance under this ranch," and he looked over the expanse of valley, hill and plain. "now an ordinary underground stream is not dangerous. in fact where it comes to the surface, as many do, it provides valuable water. but the stream below here is impregnated with a deadly gas." he gave it a long latin name. "at least if it is not always deadly," he went on, "and it may not be so at all times, owing to dilution, it is risky to breathe it. i think that is the explanation of the deaths of your cattle," he said to bud. "and you men who were rendered unconscious," he indicated sam and his guards, "you must have breathed a modified form of the gas." "but those fellows had gas in tanks!" cried nort. "no question about that!" added billee. "did they bottle up this stuff you gave such a long name to, professor, and shoot it out at us?" "no," was the answer. "i am inclined to think these unknown men used a very different kind of gas against you--probably a comparatively harmless vapor discovered during the war activities. i think there are two puzzles here and that they are both in the way, now, of being solved." "it looks so," murmured bud. "but how is the poison gas generated and how does it come up out of cracks in the earth to kill cattle and knock out our men?" "the explanation is probably very simple," said the scientist. "there must be, somewhere near the head of the defile we just left, a deposit of the mineral or ore from which this gas i speak of is generated. it is somewhat like carbon monoxide, but more powerful even in the open air." "water, flowing over a bed of this mineral, liberates the gas in the form of an almost invisible vapor. it is swept forward in a cloud by the wind, some of it is carried along above the course of the underground stream, and as soon as it reaches an opening in the earth, like a fissure crack in the rock or ground, the gas rises and whoever breathes it dies or is rendered unconscious for a time, according to the strength of the vapor. at one time the underground stream may be strongly impregnated with the dissolved chemicals that generate the gas. at another time the emanations may be comparatively weak. that, i think, is the explanation of happenings here in death valley, as you call it." "then the men who thought they had a gold mine in the cave had nothing to do with killing the cattle?" asked nort. "i can't say for sure, but i think not," the professor replied. "i am inclined to believe that they got these tanks of gas to use in driving away any who might try to get at their secret--a useless secret as it proves now. but the accidental deaths, both of cattle and men, from the underground gas must have been going on here a long time," the scientist suggested. "they have!" declared old billee. "several years back. that's why i quit here. but we didn't know what the cause was. some said poisoned water, others poison loco-weed. some said it was the souls of indians who were driven out of this valley years ago." "and all the while it was just a natural gas liberated by an underground stream running over a bed of chemicals," stated bud. "that's what i think," said professor dodson. "it remains to be proved conclusively, but that is what i think will be found." "then this means the end of death valley," went on bud, gloomily. "we can't afford to stay here and raise cattle to be killed off by gas." "no," agreed professor dodson. "but do not form a hasty decision. science can do much these days. it may be possible to neutralize this gas and so make your ranch safe. in that case it will be the end of death valley but in a better way. it will be life valley then." "do you think it can be done?" eagerly bud asked. "i don't know. but it's worth trying. you say you have gas masks? they will be needed i think." "plenty of 'em!" cried bud. "come on back to the ranch where we still have them. we may win yet!" he said to his cousins. "if the gold mine peters out, as it has done, we'll get rich raising cattle in one of the best valleys of the west--providing the poison gas can be done away with." "there's always an _if_ in the road," murmured nort. but when, a little later, the scientists, the boy ranchers and some of the men, wearing gas masks, penetrated to the far end of the defile, they found conditions which were distinctly encouraging. professor dodson located the mass of mineral which, when wet, gave off the vapor that caused death or disablement according to its strength. "all that needs to be done," he said, indicating the stream which ran for some distance in the open before plunging underground, "is to build a small dam, change the course of this little river and send it down _outside_ the defile, instead of _through_ it. keep this stream entirely in the open and you will do away with the poison gas. it is really a not very difficult problem in engineering and irrigation. it will not cost much to do this." "then it's going to be done, and it means the end of death valley forever!" cried bud. "i mean a happy ending," he added. "for we'll do away with all danger." "thanks to you gentlemen and to old tosh," said nort. "for he helped, didn't he?" "indeed he did," agreed professor snath. "and when the course of the stream is changed," went on his chief, "there is no reason why the old herb doctor cannot resume work in his cave if he wants to. it will be safe then." "guess he'll be glad to hear that!" chuckled nort. "he's been like a lost dog these last few weeks. then those fellows, with their gas tanks, didn't have anything to do with killing our cattle?" he suggested. "not a thing," declared professor dodson. "it was a war against nature you were fighting." "we've only just begun to fight her!" cried bud. mr. merkel was not much disappointed when he learned that the cave mine had petered out. "i never took much stock in it," he told his son over the telephone. "but i'm glad you've solved the mystery of death valley. i'll send some engineers over, we'll change the course of that stream and go in for cattle raising. that's our business, anyhow, not mining." in a few weeks the dam was constructed, the stream, where it ran in the open, was shifted several hundred feet and there was no longer any danger of it dissolving the chemicals and carrying the deadly gas underground, to send it up out of fissures to the detriment of man and beast. while the work was going on, all cattle were removed from the vicinity of the defile, which was found to be the only danger spot on dot and dash. the boys recalled the time when, in riding over the range, their horses had taken such a sudden fright. they could not determine whether at that time some poison gas might have seeped out, alarming the sensitive beasts, or whether it was something like a snake which might have startled the ponies. it was one of the things that remained unsolved, but it was a minor phase of the main problem which had been brought to a successful conclusion. and so, in this comparatively simple manner, was the mystery solved and an end put to death valley, though it retained that name for many years. some time after all danger was removed, when cattle roamed freely over the range, as near the defile as they cared to go, and when old tosh was again allowed to brew his elixer in the cave, a man was arrested in los pompan for horse stealing. he was convicted and it developed he was one of the men who had used the poison gas tanks against the boy ranchers. he was one of a gang. they had nothing to do with and knew nothing of the emanations of natural gas in death valley. they had heard the sinister reputation of the place, but that did not keep them out, and they discovered the cave and at once jumped to the conclusion that it contained gold. they frightened away old tosh and when bud stumbled on their operations they adopted the sinister form of defense they used later. one of the men in the gang had served in the chemical warfare division of the a.e.f. overseas. he was an expert chemist and developed a gas that would knock a man out but not kill him. thus bud was made a prisoner, escaping when the men left him for a time. the gang had taken considerable of the yellow ore out of the cave, and, doubtless after the battle in which they were worsted, they discovered it to be valueless. so they had no reason to return to the territory. the gang dispersed. none of them, it appeared, had ever suffered from the effects of the natural gas. soon after the course of the stream was changed, dot and dash ranch was a busy place. several new herds were bought and pastured and more men were hired. there was no trouble, now, in getting men from near by, for the story of the passing of the menacing gas was told all over. old tosh was kept busy making his elixer, for though the men knew it was comparatively useless as a medicine, some of them thought it did them good, and they rather liked the root beer taste it had. "why don't you put your full name on your labels?" asked nort of the queer old codger one day, when the boys were visiting him in his, or, rather, their cave, which he had fitted up to live in while he did his brewing. "you just call it 'tosh elixer.'" "that's enough for a name," he chuckled. "but my first name, if you want to know it is simon. i don't fancy it so i seldom use it." "simon tosh!" murmured bud. "s.t. why," he cried, "those were the initials signed to that warning we received while we were on our way here. did you come to our camp and leave that note?" "yes, i did," was the answer. "i heard a new crowd was coming to death valley and i thought i'd save their lives if i could warn them not to come. i knew there was something with a queer smell, coming out of the earth, that killed men, horses and cattle. but i couldn't find out what it was. but i knew enough to get out of my cave and the glen when i caught the first whiff of the queer perfume. it didn't get me." "no, but it did for enough poor fellows, and for too many of our stock before we found out what it was," said nort. "i never could understand, though," said mr. tosh, after he had identified the two warning notes which bud produced from his wallet, "i never could understand why the gas came at some times and not at others. you never knew when to look for it." "professor dodson explained that," stated bud. "it was due to the height of the underground stream, and also the stream in the open. at low water there wasn't enough fluid to cover the bed of chemicals, and so no gas was generated. when the water rose, the gas was given off." "science is wonderful," murmured the old man. the boys left him brewing his kettle of herbs. he insisted on giving them a bottle of the elixer though he knew they would not swallow any of it. "give it to fah moo," suggested mr. tosh. "but tell him not to drink it all at once." "we will," promised dick with a chuckle. the boys rode home over the rolling plains, dotted with cattle. no longer need they look for lifeless forms. death valley, as such, was no longer in existence. "and we'll make almost as much money out of stock raising as if we had a gold mine," said nort. "surest thing you know!" agreed bad. they put their horses in the corral and went in to supper. "smells good--whatever fah moo is cooking!" commented dick. "what is it, fah?" he asked as the chinese cook came shuffling in. "melican man tulky," was the smiling answer. "american turkey, what does he mean?" asked nort. "roast pork and apple sauce," chuckled bud, and he was right. "here, fah," said dick, handing the cook the bottle of elixer. "tosh sent this to you." the celestial gave one look at the flask, raised his hands to cover his mouth and ran from the room, squeaking in his falsetto voice: "no can do! no can do!" "he'll never open another bottle here as long as he lives!" chuckled bud. and then, as the sun began to sink behind the western hills and from the various stations on the ranch the cowboys filed in to supper, the boys gathered at the table for the bountiful meal and were very happy. they had solved the poison mystery and made death valley a place of life. the end the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker _ mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full colors_ _stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._ . the boy ranchers _or solving the mystery at diamond x_. two eastern boys visit their cousin. they become involved in an exciting mystery. . the boy ranchers in camp _or the water fight at diamond x_. returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn, with delight, that they are to become boy ranchers. . the boy ranchers on the trail _or the diamond x after cattle rustlers_. our boy heroes take the trail after del pinzo and his outlaws. . the boy ranchers among the indians _or trailing the yaquis_. rosemary and floyd are captured by the yaqui indians but the boy ranchers trailed them into the mountains and effected the rescue. . the boy ranchers at spur creek _or fighting the sheep herders_. dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights brings out heroic adventures. . the boy ranchers in the desert _or diamond x and the lost mine_. one night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship arrived at the bunk house. the boys cared for him and he told them of the lost desert mine. . the boy ranchers on roaring river _or diamond x and the chinese smugglers_. the boy ranchers help capture delton's gang who were engaged in smuggling chinese across the border. . the boy ranchers in death valley _or diamond x and the poison mystery_. the boy ranchers track mysterious death into his cave. cupples & leon company, publishers, new york the bomba books by roy rockwood _ mo. cloth. illustrated. with colored jacket._ _bomba lived far back in the jungles of the amazon, with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. the jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. he had a primitive education in some things, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._ . bomba the jungle boy _or the old naturalist's secret_ . bomba the jungle boy at the moving mountain _or the mystery of the caves of fire_ . bomba the jungle boy at the giant cataract _or chief nasconora and his captives_ . bomba the jungle boy on jaguar island _or adrift on the river of mystery_ . bomba the jungle boy in the abandoned city _or a treasure ten thousand years old_ . bomba the jungle boy on terror trail _or the mysterious men from the sky_ . bomba the jungle boy in the swamp of death _or the sacred alligators of abarago_ . bomba the jungle boy among the slaves _or daring adventures in the valley of skulls_ cupples & leon company, publishers, new york note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the rover boys at big horn ranch or the cowboys' double round-up by arthur m. winfield (edward stratemeyer) author of "the rover boys at school," "the rover boys on treasure isle," "the rover boys at colby hall," "the putnam hall cadets series," etc. illustrated [illustration: andy and fred found the rocks anything but easy to ascend. rover boys at big horn ranch (page )] new york grosset & dunlap publishers made in the united states of america * * * * * books by arthur m. winfield (edward stratemeyer) the first rover boys series the rover boys at school the rover boys on the ocean the rover boys in the jungle the rover boys out west the rover boys on the great lakes the rover boys in the mountains the rover boys in camp the rover boys on land and sea the rover boys on the river the rover boys on the plains the rover boys in southern waters the rover boys on the farm the rover boys on treasure isle the rover boys at college the rover boys down east the rover boys in the air the rover boys in new york the rover boys in alaska the rover boys in business the rover boys on a tour the second rover boys series the rover boys at colby hall the rover boys on snowshoe island the rover boys under canvas the rover boys on a hunt the rover boys in the land of luck the rover boys at big horn ranch the putnam hall series the cadets of putnam hall the rivals of putnam hall the champions of putnam hall the rebellion of putnam hall camping out days at putnam hall the mystery at putnam hall mo. cloth. illustrated. grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york copyright, , by edward stratemeyer the rover boys at big horn ranch * * * * * introduction my dear boys: this book is a complete story in itself, but forms the sixth volume in a line issued under the general title, "the second rover boys series for young americans." as noted in some volumes of the first series, this line was started years ago with the publication of "the rover boys at school," "on the ocean," and "in the jungle," in which i introduced my readers to dick, tom and sam rover and their relatives and friends. the twenty volumes of the first series related the doings of these three rover boys while attending putnam hall military academy, brill college, and while on numerous outings. having finished their education, the three young men established themselves in business and became married. dick rover was blessed with a son and a daughter, as was also his brother sam, while tom became the proud father of a pair of the liveliest kind of twin boys. from their home in new york city the young rovers were sent to a boarding school, as related in the first volume of the second series, entitled "the rover boys at colby hall." from that institution of learning the scene was shifted to "snowshoe island," where the lads spent a mid-winter outing. then they rejoined their fellow-cadets and had some strenuous doings while "under canvas." after that, in a volume entitled "the rover boys on a hunt," i related how they uncovered the mystery surrounding a strange house in the woods. and following this came a trip to texas and oklahoma, where, "in the land of luck," the boys aided dick rover in his efforts to locate some valuable oil wells. in the present volume the scene is shifted back to colby hall and then to a ranch in the west where some remarkable happenings await our young heroes. from reports received i am assured that the sale of this line of books has now passed the _three million_ mark! this is as astonishing as it is gratifying. i sincerely trust that the reading of the volumes will do all of the boys and girls good. affectionately and sincerely yours, edward stratemeyer. contents chapter page i. snow and snowballs ii. something about the rover boys iii. what the sneak told iv. prisoners v. by the fishing-pole route vi. a touch of mystery vii. something about a sleighride party viii. a fight and a challenge ix. the shooting contest x. spouter's secret xi. the election of officers xii. bonfire night xiii. a startling discovery xiv. the parade xv. baseball xvi. spouter is cornered xvii. good-bye to school xviii. on the way west xix. in the saddle xx. at big horn ranch xxi. hop lung and the fish xxii. a horse and a snake xxiii. jarley bangs xxiv. a new arrival xxv. professor duke's secret xxvi. the cattle stampede xxvii. the mountain lion xxviii. in the cave xxix. a confession xxx. the capture--conclusion the rover boys at big horn ranch chapter i snow and snowballs "line up, fellows! no crowding ahead in this contest." "here, jack, give me some elbow room if you want me to do any real snowball throwing!" cried fred rover. "all the elbow room you want," returned his cousin gayly. "remember the prize!" shouted andy rover to the cadets who were stringing themselves out in a ragged line. "the first fellow to throw a snowball over the top of the barn gets a sock doughnut." "for gracious sake! what do you call a sock doughnut?" demanded phil franklin, another cadet, as he paused in the act of rounding up a snowball he was making. "a sock doughnut is one with a big hole in it," answered andy, with a grin. "then my socks must be all of the doughnut variety," put in one of the cadets dolefully. "they are always full of holes." "never mind the socks now!" cried randy rover. "let's see who can put the first snowball over the barn." it was late in the afternoon of a day in january and a number of the cadets of colby hall had been amusing themselves in the snow which covered the ground to a depth of nearly a foot. they had started in to snowballing each other, but had then grown more serious and had built several snow forts and likewise two or three snowmen which later they had taken great sport in knocking apart. then some one had suggested that they try their skill at seeing who could throw, the highest and farthest, and this had led to the present contest. "we'll mark off a line about a hundred feet from the main barn," jack rover had announced. "and then we'll see who can throw highest over the roof." the four rovers were accompanied by half a dozen of their chums and six or eight others, and at the word from jack the snowballs began to fly at a lively rate, a few landing on the roof of the big barn and the majority hitting the side. "say, look out that you don't break a window," warned gif garrison. "if you do, you'll have an account to settle with captain dale." "here she goes!" yelled dan soppinger, and let fly with so much strength that the snowball sailed up to the very ridgepole of the barn and disappeared on the other side. "hurrah! dan draws first blood!" shouted jack. "huh! dan didn't throw over the barn, he just slid over it," snickered randy. jack was hard at work making a small and perfectly round ball. now, taking careful aim, he let fly with all his might. "there she goes fair and square," he announced with pardonable pride, as the snowball cleared the top of the barn by several feet and disappeared beyond. the snowball had scarcely been thrown when two other balls thrown by fred and another cadet went sailing over the barn. then those in the contest seemed to acquire better skill, and soon nearly every one of them was topping the barn with the missiles. "phew! some hot work, i'll say," panted will hendry, usually called fatty because he was the stoutest boy in the school. "this exercise will do you good, fatty," returned fred. "you need to reduce." "if fatty keeps on he'll be eating colby hall poor," announced spouter powell. "huh! i don't eat any more than any of you," grumbled fatty. "fact is, i hold myself down." "gee! listen to that, will you?" exclaimed andy. "fatty says he holds himself down! and this morning i saw him storing away three helpings of sausages and about 'steen dozen buckwheat cakes." "nothing of the kind! i didn't have a bit more than you had," growled hendry. he broke off suddenly. "hello! what's up now?" "hi! hi! what's the meaning o' this?" cried a voice from around one end of the big barn, and a man, dressed in overalls and a heavy cap and carrying a broom, appeared. "hello there, bob nixon!" cried jack. "what's wrong?" "there'll be a whole lot wrong if you fellows keep on throwing those snowballs much farther," answered bob nixon, who was a chauffeur for the hall and who did all sorts of odd jobs in the winter time. "did we hit you?" questioned phil franklin. "you sure did--on the back and on my hand," answered nixon. "we didn't know anybody was around on that side of the barn," announced andy. "i don't suppose you did. but never mind me. what i want to know is, do you fellows intend to smash all the glass in those hotbed frames out yonder?" "great salt mackerel!" ejaculated fred. "i forgot those hotbed frames were there." "why, the glass is out of 'em, anyway, isn't it?" questioned gif. "it was out. but they've been setting some of 'em in again, getting ready for some early stuff. you've sent those snowballs up to within ten or fifteen feet of where the frames are located." "gosh! it's a good thing you told us of this," burst out fatty hendry. "we might have had a nice lot of glassware to pay for." "not you, fatty," grinned andy. "you never even hit the top of the barn. if you break any glass it will be in some of those basement windows." "come on up to the other end of the barn," suggested gif. "then the snowballs will fly right out into the open field and do no harm." "well, i don't care where you throw 'em as long as you don't get into mischief," answered bob nixon, and disappeared into the barn. after that the cadets continued to throw over the structure for some time. but then they gradually lost interest, and as the short winter day was coming rapidly to an end some hurried into the hall to do a little extra school work before the bell should ring for supper. "well, what next?" questioned fred rover, when he and his three cousins and gif, phil and spouter found themselves left alone. "i've got a great scheme for to-night if you fellows will help," announced randy. he and his twin brother were always ready for a joke. "what is it?" questioned jack quickly. "this snow is just soft enough for rolling some big balls, as we found out this afternoon," answered his cousin. "what's the matter with making a whole lot of big snowballs and placing 'em in some of the bedrooms to-night?" "gee, that's the talk!" cried his twin merrily. "i'd like to place a couple in codfish's room." "he certainly deserves 'em," added fred. "he's getting to be just as big a sneak as he ever was. all of our kindness to him seems to have been useless." "and i thought he was going to turn over a new leaf," declared jack. "i wonder if some of the other fellows haven't been teasing him and that has made him go back to his old tricks." "i know one person i'd like to treat to some big snowballs!" broke out fred. "that's professor duke." "oh, say! i'd like to square up with him myself," burst out andy. "gee! he certainly did have it in for us yesterday." "professor duke is certainly a sour one--much worse than asa lemm ever dared to be," came from gif. "i was thinking of duke when i mentioned it," said randy. "you know he has his room in our building instead of with the other professors in colonel colby's residence." "we don't want to get in bad with the colonel," remarked fred seriously. "oh, i think we can fix it so that nobody will know who did it," returned his cousin. the matter was talked over for several minutes, and then, having agreed on their plan for more fun, the rover boys and their chums set to work rolling a number of snowballs which were two feet or more in diameter. these they placed close to the school building at a point where there was a series of fire-escapes leading down from the upper halls of the institution. "we can let down the ladder just as soon as we're ready to turn the trick," announced randy. "i don't believe anybody will notice it, for it will be dark and so cold that most everybody will be indoors." "we've got to be on our guard to make certain that codfish or duke or somebody else doesn't spot us," said spouter powell. "of course it wouldn't hurt if some of the regular fellows found us out, because they'd keep it to themselves." it must be confessed that the rover boys were rather preoccupied in mind during supper that evening. in fact, andy grew so thoughtless that he salted some eggs he was eating three times, so that when he finally came to his senses the food had to be pushed aside. this happened just as professor snopper duke was passing, and the new teacher eyed the young cadet suspiciously. "what is the matter with that omelet, rover?" he demanded, in his high-pitched, nervous tone of voice. "nothing the matter with it, sir," answered andy. "only i somehow forgot and salted it too much." "really!" returned snopper duke sarcastically. "is that the way you waste food?" "no, sir. it was only a mistake," answered andy meekly. "you ought to be made to eat that omelet," continued the professor severely. "don't let such a thing happen again." and then, with his eyes rolling around among the other cadets to see if anything else might be wrong, he passed slowly down among the tables of the mess hall. "oh, isn't he a perfect little lamb!" murmured randy. "so awfully tender-hearted!" "somebody ought to wring his neck," grumbled his twin. "just the same, andy, you'd better be careful how you handle the salt-shaker after this," put in jack. after the meal the rovers and their chums mingled with the other cadets and informed two or three of what was in the wind, and as a consequence there was quite some excitement noticeable when a little later the crowd, with the exception of randy, slipped out of the school building by a side door. randy ran upstairs, to appear presently on the lower landing of the fire-escape. here was suspended a heavy iron ladder in such a fashion that it could be easily shoved out so that one end would drop to the ground. soon the crowd of cadets appeared in the snow below him, and then, with a warning to them to get out of the way, randy let down the ladder and then came down himself. "all clear upstairs," he announced. "not a soul in sight." "one of us ought to stay on guard up there to give warning in case it's necessary," announced spouter. "well, suppose you go up," returned jack. "i'd just as soon help with the snowballs," returned spouter. "but if you want me to go i'll do so." and a moment later he disappeared up the ladder and into the school building through a window which had been thrown open. the cadets on the ground found it no easy task to raise the big snowballs up the ladder. they tried it first with nothing but their hands, but soon found they could do much better by dumping a snowball into a big overcoat and then hauling it up by the sleeves and the tail of the garment. they worked as rapidly as possible, and soon had eight of the snowballs raised to the platform of the fire-escape. "how about it? everything clear?" questioned randy, as he came into the corridor where spouter was on guard. "all clear so far," was the reply. "a few of the fellows are in their rooms, but no one that we are going to bother." "then let's get those snowballs inside and distribute 'em." in a few minutes the snowballs were gotten inside the building, and then two were rolled and pushed over to the room occupied by henry stowell, a cadet commonly called codfish on account of the broadness of his mouth. luck was with them, for the door was unlocked, so that they had little trouble in rolling the snowballs inside, where they were placed one on either side of the single bed the cadet occupied. after this the cadets rolled several of the balls to various other rooms, one being placed in the tub of a bathroom. "i've saved the biggest of the snowballs," whispered randy. "that's the one we must place in professor duke's room." the professor's room was around in another corridor, and to get to this the cadets had to roll the big snowball directly past the top of the broad stairs leading to the hall below. they had the snowball in a position right at the head of the stairs when spouter, who was leaning over the upper railing on guard, gave a sudden hiss of warning. "somebody coming!" he announced in a whisper. "and unless i'm mistaken, it's professor duke!" "gosh! i hope he doesn't catch us," returned gif garrison. "maybe we had better run for it." "here he comes right for the stairs!" put in jack, as he saw the familiar form pass a light in the lower hall. the cadets did not know just what to do, and while they paused to consider, professor duke started up the long, straight stairs. he was evidently in deep thought and did not look above him. "run, fellows! run!" whispered andy excitedly, and then, as the others started away he attempted to follow. but the floor was wet from the melting snow, and down he came flat on his back, both feet hitting the big snowball squarely. the movement was sufficient to send the snowball directly to the edge of the top step. here, as andy scrambled to his feet, it hovered for a moment, then began to slide down the stairs, gathering speed from step to step. "hi! hi! what is this?" those above heard snopper duke ejaculate. and the next instant the teacher set up a yell of alarm as the big snowball hit him in the stomach and hurled him to one side. then the snowball passed on down the stairs, slid across the lower hallway, and shot directly through the open door leading to colonel colby's private office! chapter ii something about the rover boys "gee, we've done it now!" "the snowball knocked professor duke over!" "hi! stop that! what do you mean? who did that?" came in smothered tones from snopper duke, who now sat on one of the lower steps of the stairs, holding both hands over the spot where the big snowball had struck him. "gosh! it struck him, all right," whispered gif garrison. "yes. and it went across the hallway into colonel colby's office!" gasped andy, who had scrambled to his feet and given a glance downward. "skip for it!" put in his twin brother quickly. "we mustn't be caught at this." the warning was not needed, for all of the cadets were already scrambling through the corridor and away from the stairs as rapidly as possible. they came to a halt in front of room , that which jack occupied. "skip inside and pretend to be reading or studying," said the oldest of the rover boys. "i think we had better go to our own rooms," said gif to phil and spouter. "and remember, mum is the word," he added for the benefit of the others. "there'll be some fun sooner or later, believe me," remarked fred. "andy, why did you push that snowball downstairs on top of old duke?" "i didn't do it on purpose. i slipped," was the answer. "but come before they start to investigate." and then he slipped into jack's room, followed by his cousins. and here let me pause for a moment to tell something about the rover boys and how it was that they came to be at colby hall. my old readers will not need this introduction, and, therefore, i shall not feel hurt if they skip my words on the subject. in the first volume of this line, entitled "the rover boys at school," i introduced three brothers, dick, tom, and sam rover, and told how they were sent to putnam hall military academy where they made a number of chums, including a cadet named lawrence colby. passing through putnam hall successfully, the three brothers next attended brill college, and then went into business in new york city, where they organized the rover company, with offices on wall street. during their school days the rover brothers had fallen in with three very nice girls, dora stanhope and her cousins, nellie and grace laning. the three young couples became married and settled down in connecting houses on riverside drive, new york city. about a year following their marriage dick and his wife dora became the parents of a son, who was named john, and this son was followed by a daughter martha. the boy jack, as he was usually called, was a sturdy youth with many of the independent qualities which had made his father so successful. shortly after the birth of jack, tom rover and his wife nellie came forward with a great surprise in the form of a pair of lively twin boys, one of whom was named anderson and the other randolph. andy and randy, as they were invariably called, were exceedingly active lads, in that particular being a second edition of their fun-loving father, tom. about the time tom's twins came upon the scene, sam rover and his wife grace became the parents of a little girl, called mary. then, a year later, the girl was followed by a boy who was christened fred. residing side by side, the younger generation of rover boys, as well as their sisters, were brought up very much as one large family. at first they were sent to private schools in the metropolis, but the boys, led by andy and randy, showed such an aptitude for fun and horseplay that their parents were compelled to hold a consultation. "we'll have to send those kids to some strict boarding school--some military academy," said dick rover. "i guess that's right," his brother tom had answered. "although how my wife is going to get along without having the twins around is more than i know." at that time lawrence colby, the rovers' former putnam hall chum, was at the head of a military academy called colby hall. to this institution jack, fred, and the twins were sent. and what they did upon their arrival there is told in detail in the first volume of my second series, entitled "the rover boys at colby hall." the military school was located about half a mile from the town of haven point on clearwater lake. at the head of the lake was the rick rack river, running down from the hills and forests beyond. the school consisted of a large stone building facing the river, and close by was a smaller building occupied by colonel colby and his family and some of the professors, and at a short distance were a gymnasium, a boathouse, and likewise bathing pavilions. on arriving at colby hall the younger rovers found several of their friends awaiting them, including dick powell, usually called spouter because of his occasional desire to make long speeches, and gifford garrison. spouter and gif were the sons of songbird powell and fred garrison, men who in their boyhood days had been close chums of the older rovers while at putnam hall. the rovers made a number of other friends, and, likewise, a few enemies, many of whom will be heard of later. as mentioned, colby hall was located about half a mile beyond haven point, and on the opposite side of the town was clearwater hall, a boarding school for girls. during a panic in a motion picture house the rover boys became acquainted with several girls from clearwater hall, including ruth stevenson, may powell, alice strobell, and annie larkins. they discovered that may was spouter powell's cousin, and the whole crowd of young people soon became friends. later on mary and martha rover became pupils at the girls' school. ruth stevenson had an old uncle, barney, and one day, while out hunting, the rover boys did the old man a great service. for this he invited them to spend some winter holidays with him, which they did, as related in another volume, called "the rover boys on snowshoe island." on this island the boys met two of their former enemies, nappy martell and slugger brown, as well as asa lemm, a discharged teacher of colby hall. the rovers exposed a plot against old uncle barney and caused the hunter's enemies to leave snowshoe island in disgust. some of the boys hoped they had seen the last of nappy and slugger, but jack was doubtful; and how those two unworthies turned up again to cause more trouble is related in the book entitled "the rover boys under canvas." this was at the time of the annual encampment, and at an election of officers jack was made captain of company c and fred made first lieutenant. while the rover boys were at colby hall the great war in europe opened. when the call for army volunteers came dick rover and his brother sam lost no time in enlisting, and as soon as he could get away tom rover followed; and the three fathers of the boys went into the trenches in europe to do their duty for uncle sam. during the following winter at colby hall gif garrison received a letter from an uncle, stating that he and his chums might use a bungalow up in the woods. gif at once invited the rover boys and spouter to become his guests, and what a glorious time the lads had is related in a volume entitled "the rover boys on a hunt." the return of the older rovers from europe at the conclusion of the great war in which they had served gallantly brought something of a surprise. dick rover had saved the life of a man from texas, and in return had been given the deed to some property located between texas and oklahoma and said to be in a region containing oil. he decided to go to texas and oklahoma to investigate, and the four boys begged to go along. how they went to the oil fields and what stirring adventures they had there are related in detail in the volume preceding this, called "the rover boys in the land of luck." here they fell in again with nappy martell, slugger brown, and another good-for-nothing lad named gabe werner, and also with a man named carson davenport, who did his best to do dick rover great harm. davenport and some of his cohorts were finally placed under arrest. as a result of this gabe werner's father took hold of some wells that were being sunk by the davenport crowd. but in the end he and the martells and the browns lost a great deal of their money, so that they were left almost penniless. "it's a terrible blow for those three families," said dick rover, when this occurred. "it will make mr. werner quite a poor man." "well, i don't particularly wish them any hard luck," remarked andy. "just the same, i guess nappy, slugger, and gabe got what was coming to them." before going down to texas and oklahoma the rover boys, while along the rick rack river during a violent storm, had succeeded in rescuing a man and his son who were caught between some rocks and a drifting tree in the middle of the swiftly flowing stream. the man, john franklin, was exceedingly thankful for what had been done for him, and so was his son philip. it developed later that the franklins owned a tract of land in texas. and when it was discovered that the tract inherited by dick rover from the soldier in france was practically worthless, jack's father made an arrangement to work the franklin place on shares. two oil wells were bored, and both of these paid handsomely, making the rovers richer than ever and also placing a substantial amount in the bank to john franklin's account. "do you know i can scarcely believe it's true," phil franklin had said to the rover boys. "why, my father will have more money than he ever dreamed of." "we're as glad as you are, phil," jack had answered. "glad on your account as well as our own. now maybe you can go to colby hall with us." "say, that would be immense!" phil had returned with pleasure. and that fall he had joined the crowd at the military academy and soon made for himself a host of friends. "gee, i never thought going to school could be so nice," declared phil franklin to the rover boys one day. "i always considered going to school a hardship. but this is bang-up in every way." "i guess you haven't made any enemies yet, phil," remarked fred. "don't forget that nappy martell, slugger brown, and gabe werner all hailed from here." "i've met only one fellow that i don't like," returned phil franklin. "that's a fellow who came in the day i did, a big, tall, lanky chap named lester bangs." "oh, you mean brassy bangs," broke in randy. "i know that fellow only too well. i had quite a set-to with him one day in the gym." "for a new cadet he's certainly pretty forward," answered jack. "i'm glad he isn't a member of my company. if he was i think i'd have to call him down more than once." "i guess colby hall is bound to have its bullies," andy had remarked on hearing this. "no sooner do we get rid of one group than another appears. they seem to grow like weeds." during the fall there had been the usual football season at the military academy, and the boys had acquitted themselves quite creditably, winning seven games out of twelve. then had come the brief christmas holidays. and following this the lads had settled down once more into the grind, resolved to do their best at their lessons. but, of course, they were only boys, and they had to have their fun, and occasionally the fun went a little too far and brought forth rather disastrous results, as we have just seen. chapter iii what the sneak told "i certainly didn't think that snowball would go down the stairs so easily," remarked andy, when he and the other rovers were alone. "keep quiet," warned jack, who had remained at the partly-opened door. "i want to hear what takes place." "this is outrageous, simply outrageous!" they heard in snopper duke's high-pitched voice. "how dared you roll such a snowball down these stairs? and how came you to get that snowball up there anyway?" "excuse me, professor, but i don't know what you're talking about," answered another voice; and at this jack gave a slight start, for he recognized the words as coming from brassy bangs. "what is that? you do not know anything about the big snowball that just came hurtling down these stairs?" stormed professor duke. "no, sir. i just reached the top of the stairs," answered brassy bangs. "i came out of my room not ten seconds ago." "what do you know about this, stowell?" went on the professor, who had now come slowly to the top of the stairs, followed by professor grawson, who had come out of colonel colby's private office where he had been looking over some reports when the big snowball had landed with a thump against the desk at which he had been seated. "me? what do you mean?" stammered the youth who was known to the cadets as codfish and who had always been more or less of a sneak. "somebody just rolled a big snowball down the stairs. it struck me and nearly knocked me flat," returned the irate teacher. "yes, and it rolled all the way into the private office," added professor grawson. "i don't know anything about any snowballs," said codfish. "i noticed the floor was all wet and i wondered what it meant." "i saw some fellows rushing around the corner," came from brassy bangs. "who were they?" demanded snopper duke. "i don't know." "which way did they go?" "that way," and brassy pointed out the direction. by this time the two professors had reached the top of the stairs and grawson was looking at the water marks on the polished floor. "here is where they brought that big snowball in," he remarked, pointing to the track that led to one of the windows. "they must have brought it up on the fire-escape." "here are several other tracks. i think we had better follow them," returned snopper duke quickly. the track leading to the bathroom was most in evidence, and the two professors quickly discovered the big snowball resting in the bathtub. "evidently they put this here to have some more fun with," announced professor grawson grimly. "well, it won't do much harm here. i'll turn on a little hot water and it will soon melt and run off," and he turned on the faucet as he spoke. from the bathroom the two professors, followed by codfish and brassy, followed the water trail into a room occupied by several students who were particularly uppish and whom the rovers did not like, and here some more of the snowballs were found. "here is another trail," announced professor duke, and in a moment more had thrown open the door leading to stowell's bedroom. "here! what does this mean?" stammered codfish, as, after the light had been turned on, he and the others saw the two big snowballs resting on either side of the bed. "stowell, you must have had something to do with this," cried snopper duke savagely. "no, sir. not at all, sir," answered the sneak in a trembling voice. "i don't know a thing about it." "where did you come from just now?" "i--i came up the back stairs. i was just coming through the corridor when i heard the noise and came to see what it meant." "the back stairs, eh?" put in professor grawson. "what were you doing on the back stairs this time in the evening?" "i--i was down in the kitchen." and now codfish grew pale. "and what called you to the kitchen?" "i--i was hungry, and so i asked one of the servants for something to eat." and now codfish was fairly whining. "humph! didn't you have any supper?" "yes, sir. but i wasn't feeling extra well just then and i didn't eat very much, and that made me hungry afterwards. and, oh, say! i guess i can tell you something about those snowballs," and codfish's face lit up suddenly. "what do you know?" "when i was passing through the little entryway that leads into the kitchen i happened to glance out of the window and i saw four or five fellows down at the foot of the fire-escape." "what were they doing?" "when i looked at them they were just talking among themselves. i only looked for a moment because i was in a hurry to get to the kitchen and get back again." "did you recognize any of the cadets?" at this direct question, codfish hesitated and showed that he felt far from comfortable. "i don't like to tell on anybody," he whined. "if i do that they'll be sure to lick me later on--i know they will!" "you tell me who they were and i'll see to it that they do not harm you," put in professor duke quickly. "i only saw two of the fellows real plainly," answered stowell. "they were standing in the light from one of the windows." "and who were they? tell me! i want no nonsense now," and snopper duke caught the sneak firmly by the shoulder. "ouch! please don't hurt me!" cried codfish, in added alarm. "then answer me!" "the two fellows i recognized were captain jack rover and his cousin, lieutenant fred rover." "you didn't know the others?" put in professor grawson. "no, sir. i didn't see them well enough. they were all in the shadows." "i'll investigate this," cried professor duke. "stowell, you come with me." "oh, please don't make me come!" cried the sneak. "they'll almost kill me if they find i gave them away!" "they sha'n't touch you." "oh, i know what they'll do," moaned codfish. he had not forgotten how the rover boys had sided with him on more than one perilous occasion, and it scared him half to death to think what they might do when they discovered how meanly he was acting. but there was no help for it, and codfish was marched along between the two professors, with brassy and a number of other cadets, who had been attracted by the noise and the talk, following. meanwhile the four rover boys had listened to as much of the conversation as they could catch. "they went into codfish's room--they are following the trail of the water on the floor," announced jack. "some of the other fellows are coming out and coming upstairs," announced fred. "let us go out too and see what happens." "maybe they'll accuse codfish of this," remarked randy, with a grin. the four rovers had just come out in the corridor and been joined by gif, phil, and spouter when they found themselves suddenly confronted by professor duke, with professor grawson and poor codfish directly behind him. "so this is your work, is it?" demanded snopper duke, glaring angrily at jack and fred in turn. "to what do you refer, professor?" asked jack, as calmly as he could. "you know well enough, captain rover. it is useless for you to deny it," stormed the angry teacher. "you and your cousins here are responsible for bringing those big snowballs into the school." "who says so?" questioned fred. at the same time he gave codfish a look that made the sneak want to hide himself. "never mind who says so. we know it to be a fact," stormed snopper duke. "will you kindly let me know what you mean by such outrageous conduct?" "is it so very outrageous, professor, to bring a few snowballs into the school?" questioned randy innocently. "we've often brought snow into the school," put in andy. "we used to use it for making a sort of home-made ice-cream--with milk and sugar and a little flavoring, you know." "colonel colby or captain dale never ordered us to leave the snow outdoors," added fred, and at this there was a snicker from among a number of the cadets who were gathered. "i will not listen to such nonsense," stormed snopper duke. "you four brought those snowballs into this school, and some of you kicked that snowball down the stairs on top of me," he added, glaring at them. "i want to say right now, professor duke, that that big snowball went downstairs by accident," answered andy, feeling that there was no help for it and that he must make a clean breast of the matter. "we were rolling it down the corridor when all at once i slipped in a puddle of water and both my feet struck the snowball and sent it on its way down the stairs. but we didn't mean to send it down; i can give you my word on that." "i don't believe it," stormed snopper duke. "i'm telling you the truth, sir." "perhaps rover didn't mean to send the snowball downstairs," put in professor grawson mildly. as a general thing he sided with the cadets and they had little difficulty in getting along with him. "mr. grawson, i was the one to suffer through this outrageous trick," fumed snopper duke. "and you will kindly permit me to handle the affair. these four cadets are guilty and must be punished." "i agree it is more your affair than mine, mr. duke," returned the other teacher. "but don't you think it would be wise to let the matter rest until colonel colby comes back from the city?" "not at all! not at all! these young rascals must be taken in hand, and at once. otherwise our authority in this institution will go to pieces." at this moment there was a movement among the students who had collected in the corridor, and gif and spouter stepped forward. "excuse me, professor duke," said gif. "but i had as much to do with bringing those snowballs upstairs as anybody." "and so did i," added spouter. "and i was in on the deal, too," came from phil franklin, as he too stepped forward. "what? all of you?" demanded snopper duke, eyeing them coldly. "i can assure you we meant no great harm," continued spouter. "we were only going to have a little fun among ourselves and with our fellow-cadets--that is, mostly," he added somewhat lamely, as he remembered what had been said about placing some of the snowballs in the teacher's room. "were any others implicated in this despicable piece of business?" demanded professor duke, looking around at the assembled cadets. "answer me at once!" there was no reply to this, the cadets simply looking at each other questioningly. "we're all here, sir," said jack. "there were no others." and he and his cousins gave their chums a warm look to show they appreciated their coming forward to take a share of the blame. "seven of you, eh?" was the teacher's sour comment. "a fine piece of business, truly." he thought for a moment. "come with me, all of you, and we'll see what damage has been done down in the office." the assembled cadets made a passageway, and through this filed the rovers and their chums with professor duke following close on their heels. professor grawson remained behind to talk to stowell. "they'll kill me for this--i know they will!" whined codfish. and now he was on the verge of tears. "i don't think the rovers will touch you, stowell--i don't think they're that class of boys," answered professor grawson. "come. i'll go to your room with you and help you throw those snowballs out of the window." he had not forgotten that he had been a schoolboy himself once, and he had small sympathy for such a sneak as henry stowell. down in colonel colby's private office it was found that the big snowball had done little damage outside of wetting a couple of the rugs. what was left of the snowball had been gathered up by pud hicks, the janitor's assistant, and now he was mopping up the floor. "i'll take the rugs and dry 'em in the laundry," said hicks. "i think they'll be all right by morning." "you cadets remain here until i return," said professor duke, when hicks was ready to depart. and then he went outside and in the hallway held a whispered conversation with the janitor's assistant. "i guess we're in for it," said jack to his cousins and his chums. "what do you suppose they'll do with us?" questioned phil. "i'm sure i don't know." in a few minutes snopper duke returned, and there was a grin of satisfaction in his eyes as he faced the cadets. "you will all follow me," he declared, "and i'll show you what can be done in this school to cadets who act as outrageously as you have acted. come! march!" and he led the way out of the private office. chapter iv prisoners in one of the wings of the school building there was located a room about twelve feet square with one window which was barred, and this, as my old readers know, was known officially as the school guardroom or prison. jack and fred had once been prisoners in this guardroom on a charge that was afterwards proved to be false. "gee! i wonder if he's going to take us to the guardroom?" whispered the youngest of the rovers. "i don't see how he can crowd seven of us into that small room," answered randy. "why, it's only got one cot in it!" professor duke led the way through the corridor and up the broad stairs. in the meanwhile professor grawson had ordered the other cadets to their rooms, so there was no one at hand to witness what was taking place. arriving on the second floor, snopper duke led the way into another corridor and then up a somewhat narrow stairway leading to the third floor. "hello! i wonder where he's going to take us now?" questioned fred in wonder. "this is certainly a new wrinkle," declared gif. the third floor was but dimly lit until the professor turned on more light. then he turned into a little side corridor at the end of which was located a long, narrow room which, during the previous year, had been used by some of the hired help but which was now unoccupied. "you will remain in this room until i have a chance to communicate with colonel colby," said professor duke, as he marched the cadets in. "and remember! i want no cutting up here. i want you to remain perfectly quiet." "how long shall we have to stay here?" questioned jack. "that will depend on what colonel colby has to say about it," was the sharp answer. "do you expect us to stay here all night?" demanded randy. "you will have to stay here unless colonel colby gets back from the city, and i think that hardly likely to-night," answered the teacher. "now remember! no noise and no horseplay or i'll do something that you won't forget in a hurry," and with this admonition he walked out of the room, closing and locking the door after him. "listen!" cried fred, as all of the others started to talk at once. and going to the door, he listened intently, and so did the others, and they heard snopper duke pass through the little corridor and down the stairs. "he's gone, all right enough," remarked phil franklin. "well, what do you know about this, anyhow!" cried gif. "i think he's treating us like a lot of children," declared andy angrily. "i don't believe he has any right to keep us out of our regular rooms," came from his brother. "well, anyway, he took the right," answered jack grimly. "and what is more, he seems to have the best of us." "he won't have if we break down that door." "i don't think you'll have an easy job of it breaking down that door," put in spouter. "i happened to notice that there was not only a regular lock on it, but also a top bolt. you'd have to smash the whole door to get out. but it certainly is a despicable piece of business," spouter continued. "and at the first opportunity we have we'll have to lay the whole case before colonel colby. i'm sure when he has verified our report, and gone into the various merits of the case, he will make a finding that will be in accordance with----" "gee! spouter can spout even if he is a prisoner," burst out randy. "better get up on a chair, spouter, and make a regular speech about it," he continued, grinning. "this is a new experience for me," remarked phil, with a smile. "i never thought i was going to be put in jail." "you can hardly call it being put in jail, phil," answered jack. "in a military academy it is quite common for a cadet, when he has broken the rules and regulations, to be placed in the guardhouse, just the same as he is placed in the guardhouse in the regular army." "i thought maybe they'd make us do what they call police duty," said the boy from texas. "one fellow told me that while he was in the training camp he overstepped the regulations and they made him peel potatoes until he was sick and tired of seeing them." "well, they do that too," put in fred. "you might have to do something like that if we were at the annual encampment. but while the school session is on all they do is to lock you up." the boys found that the long narrow room contained two double beds and two cots, as well as a couple of bureaus, several stools, and a table. at one end was a small bathroom and a clothing closet. there were three small windows in a row, all looking out on the snow-covered fields behind the school. "well, we've got a place to sleep, anyhow," announced jack. "although three of us will have to sleep in one of the beds." "not much in the way of covering," remarked gif, who had been making an investigation. "just one thin blanket on each bed. and that radiator is not letting out heat enough to warm a cat," he added, as he placed his hand on the one small radiator of which the long bedroom boasted. "never mind, we can keep on our uniforms if we want to," declared randy. "and who knows but what colonel colby may come back at any minute, and then i'm almost certain that he'll let us go back to our own rooms." "he will unless old duke cooks up some dreadful story against us," came from his brother. "you can bet he'll make out as black a case against us as he can." "yes. but i think professor grawson will have something to say too," said jack. "and he has always been a very fair-minded man." "i don't see why colonel colby took on such a man as snopper duke," declared spouter. "he's every bit as bad as asa lemm was." "but you've got to hand it to him for being a very well educated man," said jack. "and he certainly knows how to teach when he's in the humor for it." "i don't think a man who is as harsh-minded as he is ought to be a teacher," was gif's comment. "he can't get a cadet to do his best if he's forever nagging at him. now, if i was a teacher, i'd do my best to gain my pupils' confidence." there was a pause, and presently andy began to chuckle. "say, he certainly did look funny when that big snowball hit him in the stomach and nearly knocked him over," he cried. "how could you see that when you were on your back?" questioned fred. "oh, i managed to flop over and look down the stairs just in time. he was some sight, believe me. it's a wonder he didn't go over backward to the floor below. i don't know what saved him. he must have grabbed the banisters just in time." "you can't really blame him for being mad. i think maybe i'd be mad myself," said gif. "however, let's drop that. what are we going to do? go to bed?" "i don't see that there is anything else to do," answered jack. "i've got to do something to keep warm," declared andy, and suddenly turned a somersault over one of the beds. then he began to box with his brother, and the two spun around from one end of the room to the other. "here! you stop that," warned fred. "you know what duke said. you keep on and he'll put us down in the cellar or some other worse place." after this the seven cadets became more quiet, and, sitting as close as possible to the little radiator which gave forth only a mite of warmth, they discussed the situation for half an hour longer. "that's another one against codfish," declared randy. "i'm sure he's guilty." "well, he had some reason for saying what he did," said jack. "he had to clear his own skirts after they found those two big snowballs in his room." "just the same, jack, you know well enough hardly any other fellow in the school would have squealed," cried randy. "codfish always was a sneak, and i guess he always will be, no matter what some of the other fellows do for him." "say, look here! i thought you fellows told me that captain dale was in charge of this school whenever colonel colby was absent," burst out phil suddenly. "that's true," answered jack. "he was in charge all the time the colonel was in the regular army." "then why didn't professor duke put this up to the captain?" "because captain dale is away on a little vacation," announced gif. "he won't be back until some time next week." "and where did colonel colby go?" "they said he had gone to the city," answered fred. "but i don't know what they mean by that. they may mean boston, or new york, or some smaller place." "the radiator is growing stone cold," declared gif, who had his hands on it. "what'll you bet old duke didn't turn the heat off?" broke in andy quickly. "it would be just like him to do it." "i guess about the only thing we can do is to go to bed," announced jack. "well, you had better do it with your uniform on, then," said spouter. "because i'm not going to bed with the windows closed, and it's going to be beautifully cold by and by." all of the cadets had been accustomed to sleeping with the windows of their bedrooms open. but they had also been accustomed to plenty of bed clothing, and knew they would probably suffer with the scant quantity of quilts now provided. however, they had to make the best of it, and in the end did little else but take off their shoes and coats and then wrap themselves in the blankets as best they could. of course, there was some horseplay in which even phil franklin indulged. but on the whole the cadets kept rather quiet, for they did not want to make matters worse than they were. "the last time randy and i were home our dad laid down the law good and plenty," announced andy. "so we've got to do something towards toeing the mark." "i'm afraid brassy bangs and a lot of the other fellows will have the laugh on us for this," remarked fred, as he turned in. "oh, well, you can't have fun without paying the piper once in a while," was jack's comment. it grew colder during the night, and on rising to cut off some of the air that was blowing over him, fred noticed that it had begun to snow. the fine hard particles were drifting into the room, and he called the attention of some of the others to this. "i don't care. let it snow in if it wants to," grumbled randy sleepily. but some of the others demurred to this, and presently one of the windows was closed entirely and the others left open only a few inches. "gee, talk about greenland's icy mountains!" exclaimed gif, on arising a little after seven o'clock. "some coldness, if you ask me!" "you said it!" declared jack, as he got up and walked across the floor to where the radiator was located. "cold as ice!" he announced. "did you leave it turned on?" questioned randy quickly. "i certainly did." "then old duke must intend to freeze us out!" exclaimed fred. "what do you know about that!" "i know it's a mean piece of business," answered andy. "gee! why, we might all catch our death of cold." having washed themselves, the cadets lost no time in donning the clothing they had taken off on retiring. then they continued to walk around the narrow room in order to keep their blood in circulation. it was now about eight o'clock, and they wondered if they would get any breakfast. "a hot cup of cocoa or coffee wouldn't go bad," remarked spouter. "not to say anything about ham and eggs, hot muffins, or a few other things on the side." "yum, yum! don't mention them," groaned andy. "i feel hollow clean down to my shoes. i didn't have any too much supper, and i was depending on having a few crackers i had in my closet." "and i left an apple on my bureau," declared phil. "and i had two doughnuts stored away to take to bed with me," came from fred. the boys heard the cadets below assembling for roll call and the short morning parade, and then heard them march into the mess room of the hall for breakfast. "my! but i wish i was downstairs right now," declared randy. "i wouldn't do a thing to that breakfast table!" "maybe they'll bring our breakfast to us," suggested jack. "if they do you can bet there won't be any too much of it--if old duke has anything to do with it," returned gif grimly. chapter v by the fishing-pole route another half hour went by, and the boys confined in the room on the third floor of the school building became more and more impatient. "perhaps they won't give us any breakfast at all," said phil franklin presently. "if they don't there'll be war," declared andy. "i won't stand for being starved." "none of us will stand for that," put in gif grimly. "but i don't believe duke will dare do it. you must remember he will have all the other teachers to contend with. they have the same rights here as he has." "yes, but professor grawson turned this affair over to duke," was fred's comment. "that was because old duke was the only one to really suffer through what we did," answered jack. another fifteen minutes passed, and then those in the room heard footsteps outside. the door was unlocked and professor duke appeared, followed by pud hicks and bob nixon and two of the mess-room waiters. "well, did you behave yourselves during the night?" demanded the teacher, as he glanced sharply from one to another of the cadets, all of whom eyed him curiously. "we did, sir," answered phil, who was nearest to the door. leaving those who had accompanied him at the door so that none of the cadets present might escape, snopper duke strode into the room and looked around suspiciously, even going so far as to glance into the bathroom and the clothing closet. as was the custom during the school term, the cadets had put the beds and the cots in order, and also arranged the chairs and other furniture. "professor duke, i'd like to ask something. do you know we have no heat in here?" questioned jack. "growing boys like you don't need too much heat--it makes them lazy," responded the teacher tartly. "you will be warm enough after you have had your breakfast." "can we go downstairs now and get it?" asked andy quickly. "no. you are to have it up here. i have had it brought up for you," was the answer. and then professor duke motioned for the two waiters to come in. they carried two trays covered with napkins, and these they deposited on the table. "has colonel colby come back yet?" questioned spouter. "you will know quickly enough when he comes," was the teacher's reply. and then he motioned the waiters out of the room. "professor, do you think----" began bob nixon. but the teacher caught the hall chauffeur by the arm and pushed him out into the hallway. "never mind now, nixon," he broke in hastily. "we'll talk matters over downstairs." and thereupon he closed and locked the door once again, and the cadets heard him and all of the others go below. "what do you suppose he brought hicks and nixon up here for?" questioned randy, when they were left alone. "i don't know, unless he thought we might try to break out, and if so he would have them along to stop us," answered jack. "maybe he thought the cold and waiting for breakfast would make us desperate," suggested gif. "however, now they've gone, let's see what they have brought us to eat." eagerly the seven cadets whipped away the napkins that covered the two trays. they gave one look, and then a cry of disappointment arose. "what do you know about this!" "isn't this the limit!" "black coffee and bread without butter!" "and mush with nothing but a little molasses on it!" "and no sugar in the coffee, either!" "talk about your prison fare!" groaned andy. "i think this takes the cake!" "you mention cake and i'll murder you!" burst out fred. "why don't you speak of ham and eggs, lamb chops, fried potatoes, coffee cake with raisins in it, and things like that while you're at it?" "wow! fred for the water faucet!" exclaimed jack, and got his cousin by the arm and made as if to run him into the bathroom. "hold up! i'll be good!" pleaded the youngest rover. "but, say! doesn't looking at these two trays make you weary in the bones?" "well, anyway, the coffee is hot," declared spouter, as he tasted it. "and we might as well drink it before it gets cold. it will help to warm us up." thereupon the seven cadets fell to eating, and soon every particle of the scanty breakfast furnished to them had disappeared. they grumbled, however, as they ate, and continued to grumble after the repast was finished. "i'm quite sure colonel colby wouldn't treat us like this," declared gif. "he certainly did much better by fred and me when we were placed in the guardroom," declared jack. "we got as good a meal as we ever had served to us in the mess hall." "it's nothing short of a crime not to turn the heat on," said fred, who was examining the radiator again. "just as cold as ever." "listen!" cried randy suddenly. all did so, and heard a faint knocking on the door. "who is that?" questioned jack, moving to the portal. "is that you, jack?" came in fatty hendry's voice. the stout youth was whispering through the keyhole. "yes, fatty. what brought you up here?" "i got wind that you fellows were being fed scanty rations," answered fatty. "how about it?" "it's true, all right enough." [illustration: "our friends are on the job!" cried fred, delightedly. rover boys at big horn ranch (page )] "well, dan soppinger, walt baxter and myself got our heads together and we managed to make up a bundle of food for you. just watch the window on your right," continued the stout youth, and then tiptoed away. wondering what their friends intended to do, the seven cadets crowded to the window in question and opened it wide. it was still snowing, and through the thickly-flying flakes they presently saw the end of a fishing pole on which was tied a bundle done up in a pillow case. "hurrah! our friends are on the job," cried fred delightedly, as the bundle was slipped from the end of the fishing pole and hauled into the room. then he looked out of the window and saw at a little distance the face of dan soppinger at another window. "got it all right, did you?" demanded dan, as he hauled in the fishing pole. "we sure did, dan; and much obliged to you." "has colonel colby come back yet?" questioned jack, looking over his cousin's shoulder. "no. and there is no telling when he'll come back," answered dan. "he sent word that his business might keep him away for several days." then dan spoke to some one behind him, and continued in a low voice, "i've got to go now, or they'll catch us. good-bye." the imprisoned cadets closed the window again and then placed the bundle on the table and opened it. they found it contained a rather jumbled collection of buttered bread, cheese, the knuckle of a boiled ham, a small glass full of jelly, a square of pound cake, three bananas, a couple of oranges, several apples, a small bag of lump sugar, and a can of condensed milk. "some collection, all right enough," declared spouter, as they surveyed it. "i guess they grabbed up anything they could lay their hands on." "they must have heard we had black coffee without sugar," put in fred. "too bad we were in such a hurry. we might have feasted in great shape off of this collection." "never mind. the sugar and condensed milk may come in handy later," answered jack. the boys divided some of the fruit, and then made themselves a few sandwiches, and with this topped off the scanty breakfast they had previously consumed. they placed the rest of the things on the top shelf of the closet and folded up the pillow case carefully. "we'll have to send that back the first chance we get," declared fred. "otherwise some cadet is going to catch it when his room is inspected." with nothing to do, the cadets found the time drag heavily. they looked around the room for some reading matter, but found nothing outside of some newspapers which had been placed on the shelves of the closet. these were old sheets, and contained nothing which they cared to peruse. "hurrah! we're going to have some heat, anyhow," cried randy, about eleven o'clock. "hear the radiator cracking?" he was right, and soon the radiator became moderately warm. this did not, of course, warm the room very thoroughly, but it took the chill off and made it more comfortable than it had been. "i'll bet a cooky that some of the others made old duke turn the heat on," declared gif. "either that or else some of our chums turned it on when he wasn't watching," answered jack. some time later they found out that bob nixon had turned on the heat unbeknown to snopper duke. it was also learned that professor grawson and professor brice knew nothing about the heat having been turned off. about half-past twelve snopper duke appeared again, this time with one of the under teachers and two of the waiters. the under teacher had his arms full of books. "i have had some of your text books brought up here," explained professor duke. "there is no sense in your wasting your time here doing nothing. i want you to study the same as if you were attending your classes. i have also had your dinner brought up." "do you expect us to study in a cold room?" questioned jack. he had thrown one of the small bed covers over the radiator and added a book or two so that the teacher might not notice that it was warm. "i'll not discuss that point with you, rover," was snopper duke's sharp reply. "you can eat your dinner, and then go at your studies." and thereupon he directed the two waiters to deposit the fresh trays on the table and take the old ones away. then the seven cadets were locked up as before. in comparison, the dinner was just as scanty as the breakfast had been. for each pupil there was a small boiled potato, almost cold, a few lima beans, a small slice of roast beef, and one slice of unbuttered bread. there were also several paper drinking cups, to indicate that the cadets might drink all the water they cared to draw from the faucet in the bathroom. "regular miser's lunch," was andy's comment, as he surveyed it. "exactly!" answered fred. and then he added dryly: "what are we going to use that sugar and condensed milk on?" "oh, the condensed milk will go fine on the bread," put in spouter. "i used to like condensed milk sandwiches." "and you can eat the lump sugar for dessert if you want to," put in jack. all began to eat, and in the midst of the meal they heard another knock on the door. this time ned lowe was there, one of their chums who was a great singer and banjo player. "be on the watch for the beautiful fishing pole," sang ned in a low voice. "hurry up. we can't stay up here very long." all leaped for the window, and a few minutes later the fishing rod came once more into view, this time with another bundle attached to it. they held the end of the pole while they detached the bundle and fastened upon it the empty pillow case. the new bundle was in a large paper flour bag. "here is where we are going to have a regular feast!" cried jack with satisfaction. "just look! almost half a boiled tongue, a quart jar of hot coffee, some boiled sweet potatoes, and half an apple pie. i declare i don't see how they managed to get hold of it." "they're certainly looking out for us," answered spouter. with this addition to the food already on hand, the boys started in to have a real good dinner. they were enjoying it thoroughly and cracking all kinds of jokes when they suddenly heard a commotion in the corridor outside. "i've caught you, have i?" they heard snopper duke exclaim. "what business have you up here, anyway?" "i wasn't doing any harm, professor," came in the voice of dan soppinger. "what is that you have behind your back? give it to me this instant," went on the teacher. "gee! that's dan soppinger, and he's got himself into trouble!" exclaimed jack, in alarm. "i really didn't mean to do any harm," the imprisoned cadets heard dan answer. "what is that you are trying to hide? give it to me!" there was a brief silence, and then those in the room heard the teacher continue: "a pumpkin pie and almost a pound of cheese! where did you get those things, soppinger? and what were you going to do with them? come, answer me!" "if you want to know, i was going to try to get them to those fellows you locked up," answered dan soppinger, in desperation. "i heard you were just about starving them to death." "what's that? starving them to death? stuff and nonsense! they are getting all that they need, and it's not for you to interfere in my business," went on snopper duke, his high-pitched voice rising still higher in anger. "you should be down in your classroom. give me those things and go downstairs at once. i'll attend to your case later." "gee! poor dan is certainly in hot water," whispered jack. "old duke must have been spying on him," said randy. "maybe he'll come in here and see how matters are going!" cried spouter excitedly. "it might not be a bad thing to get all that extra food out of sight." he had scarcely spoken when they heard professor duke at the door. an instant later the portal was thrown open and the teacher stepped in. his eyes swept the trays and the plates of food the cadets were holding. "ha! so this is what is going on, eh?" he stormed. "having food brought in on the sly, eh? well, i'll see that that is stopped! you'll go without your supper for this!" and then, after a few more words, he stormed out of the room, banging the door behind him and locking it. chapter vi a touch of mystery "now i reckon we are worse off than we were before," remarked jack, as the assembled cadets looked at each other in consternation. "if he cuts off our supper the best thing we can do is to save this grub," declared randy. "we'll have to go on short rations." "and when we feel real hungry we can turn to our school books for consolation," added his twin brother. "gee! but doesn't this take the cake?" and picking up his algebra he threw it at phil. the boy from texas dodged, and the algebra hit the wall behind him. "don't start a rough-house, andy," remonstrated jack quickly. "we're in deep enough as it is. please don't forget that fred and i are worse off than any of you." "how do you make that out?" demanded gif. "because we are officers, and are supposed to be models for the rest of the cadets." "huh! i forgot that," said gif. "that's too bad." it must be admitted that the cadets were far less cheerful while finishing their meal than they had been a few minutes before. they ate somewhat sparingly, and placed what was left of the food in an out-of-the-way corner under one of the cots. "no use of taking chances," said jack. "duke may come in here and search the closet for rations when he gets the dirty dishes." "well, i suppose we might as well spend our time studying," came from spouter presently. "we've got to learn our lessons, no matter if we are prisoners. otherwise later on we'll be marked down for that, too." "too bad that poor dan had to be caught with that pumpkin pie and cheese," groaned randy. he was particularly fond of the pies turned out by the hall cooks. making themselves as comfortable as they could around the radiator, the seven cadets began to study. thus an hour passed, and then came more footsteps in the hall. "another visitor," said jack, looking up. when the door was thrown open they expected to see snopper duke or one of the other professors, and they were, therefore, much surprised when colonel colby stepped into the room. the master of the hall was alone. "attention!" called jack sharply--for this had been arranged between the cadets earlier in the day--and thereupon all of the cadets leaped to their feet and saluted. this action came somewhat as a surprise to the master of the school, and just the faintest flicker of a smile passed over his features. then he closed the door behind him and came forward. "i am very sorry to learn that all of you have been breaking the rules of this institution," said colonel colby, in an even tone of voice. "captain rover, i would like to have your version of the affair if you care to make a report." "i don't know that i can make much of a report, colonel," answered the young captain, his face flushing. "we brought the snowballs into the school, and that is all there is to it." "well, what about sending that big snowball down the stairs on top of professor duke?" "that was an accident, sir, and i was responsible for it," broke in andy. "an accident? professor duke is quite certain it was done by design." "he is mistaken, sir," continued andy, and then in a few words related exactly how the accident had occurred. "well, what about the snowballs that were placed in the rooms of stowell, besser, lunn and in the bathroom?" "we only meant it for a little fun, colonel," pleaded fred. "of course, i realize now that maybe we went a little too far." "you certainly did go too far, lieutenant rover. and i am especially surprised to find you and captain rover mixed up in anything of this sort. i expect the officers of the cadets to set a good example." "i was thinking you might say that, colonel colby," put in jack quickly. "and i should have thought of it before i went into the affair. but we were having such fun outside snowballing, and like that, that we got deeper into it before we gave it a second thought." "and we really didn't know that we couldn't bring any snow into the school," put in phil rather lamely. "such an explanation won't go here, franklin. i expect my students to have more common sense than that. of course, it may have been nothing but a boyish prank, and if you can give me your word that the snowball which went down the stairs and hit professor duke was not aimed at him deliberately, i shall feel inclined to let the matter pass." "oh, colonel colby, will you really do that?" questioned fred eagerly. "please remember we've been punished already," put in spouter. "locked up like a lot of criminals, and the radiator turned off until we almost froze to death!" "the radiator turned off?" questioned the owner of the school. "it is hot enough now," he added, as he placed his hand upon it. "but it wasn't before," answered gif, and gave the particulars. as he did this colonel colby's face became a study. "i will look into that," he said, and then walked over to one of the cots and also to one of the beds and inspected the thin coverings. "i trust none of you caught cold?" "well, i did catch a little cold," answered spouter, and began to cough, for what he said was true. after this colonel colby talked to the cadets for fully ten minutes, trying to show them that what they had done was not what he expected of them. he was kind almost to the point of being fatherly, and made several remarks which caused the boys to do considerable thinking. "i am afraid some of you lads do not like professor duke," said he. "i am afraid you consider him rather quick-tempered and irritable." "well, he certainly isn't as nice as most of the other teachers," declared randy flatly. "he always seems to be waiting for a chance to get in on a fellow," broke out fred. "in some ways he's even worse than asa lemm was." "but he's a splendid teacher, i will say that for him," declared jack. "only, the way he sometimes jumps on a fellow is terrible." "i shouldn't like to have you boys compare professor duke with that scalawag, asa lemm," declared colonel colby. "lemm had a good education--if he hadn't had i should not have engaged him to teach here--but he was not the honest and upright man snopper duke is. i will admit that at times he is quick-tempered, but, believe me, boys, he has good reasons for it--or, at least, there is quite some excuse for his acting that way at times. i do not feel like discussing his personal affairs with you, but you will be doing a real act of kindness if at times you don't notice his actions when he seems rather sharp. i am quite sure he doesn't always mean it." "well, of course, if there's some reason----" began jack. "there is quite a reason, captain rover. but, as i said before, i do not care to discuss professor duke's personal affairs further. only, if i were one of you boys, i should go very slow in judging him. and now to come back to this present affair: i have had a talk with professor duke and i will have another talk this evening, and, all told, i think you have been punished enough. so we will call the matter off and you can return to your classrooms." "thank you very much, colonel colby," cried jack, and, starting forward, he offered his hand, and the master of the school shook it warmly. then all of the other cadets came forward to do likewise. "i hope you won't punish those other fellows for getting some extra food up to us," said fred, as he and andy brought out the hidden things and placed them on one of the trays. "they only tried to do us a good turn." "you may rest assured, rover, that i shall treat them only as they deserve," answered colonel colby, and led the way downstairs. here the cadets separated, each to pay a brief visit to his own room before going down to the classrooms on the lower floor. "i wonder what colonel colby meant when he said duke had reasons for being irritable?" remarked randy. "i don't know, i'm sure," answered jack thoughtfully. "maybe he's suffering from some sickness," suggested fred. "perhaps he ought to have an operation and hates to have it done." "maybe he's worried about money matters," came from randy. "it was certainly something worth while or colonel colby wouldn't have been so serious about it," said fred. "gee! i'm sorry if i misjudged him, if there is really something wrong." "i don't believe colonel colby would caution us if it wasn't so," said jack. "and after this i'm going to give duke as much consideration as i possibly can." the boys had been told to go to their classrooms, but this was hardly necessary, for they had just about presented themselves when the afternoon session of the school came to an end. then they followed some of their friends down to the gymnasium, where they were at once surrounded and asked to give the particulars of what had happened to them. "it wasn't a great deal," said jack. "and first of all i want to know what was done to dan and the others." "oh, colonel colby read us a little lecture, that's all," answered walt baxter, one of the cadets. "he told us we had no right to take any of the food without asking for it." "i offered to pay for it," put in ned lowe, "and so did dan. but the colonel said that wasn't the point. that he wanted the discipline of the hall maintained." "did he say anything about professor duke?" questioned fred. "not a word." "well, he told us something," continued the youngest rover, and then related what had been said on the subject. "say, that squares with something i once heard," cried walt baxter. "i met professor duke down at the barn one day where he was waiting to have nixon drive him down to town. the professor was walking around, wringing his hands and muttering to himself. he looked all out of sorts, and he said something that sounded to me like 'i don't see how i can do it! i don't see how i can really attempt it!'" "and what do you suppose it was that bothered him, walt?" questioned jack curiously. "i'm sure i don't know. i watched him walk up and down and wring his hands. and then he took a notebook out of his pocket and began to study some of the figures in it. then nixon came along with the auto, and he jumped in and rode off." "well, that sure is a mystery," declared randy. this news concerning snopper duke gradually spread throughout the school, and many of the boys watched the teacher curiously. in the meantime colonel colby had a conference, not only with duke, but also with professor grawson; and when the classes opened the next day jack and the others found themselves treated just as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "colonel colby said he would let the matter pass, and i guess he's going to keep his word," remarked fred. there was only one boy who remained troubled, and that was codfish. he avoided the rovers and the others as much as possible, often running away at the sight of them. "codfish is just about scared stiff," remarked randy. "he knows he got himself in wrong." "what a poor fish he is," answered his twin. on saturday afternoon a number of the boys obtained permission to visit the town and attend the moving picture performance if they so desired. jack had telephoned to his sister, and martha had answered that probably a number of girls from clearwater hall would be in town at the same time. "and i've got something to tell you, too, jack," said martha over the wire. "something i'm sure you'll be interested in hearing." "why don't you tell me now?" he replied. "oh, this isn't something to tell over a public telephone," his sister answered. the snowstorm had come to an end, and it was clear and bright overhead when the four rovers and some of the others tramped to haven point. here, at the railroad station, they met martha and mary, and also ruth stevenson, may powell, and several other girls from the academy. "how are your eyes feeling, ruth?" questioned jack anxiously, as he walked side by side with the girl on the way to the moving picture theater. as my old readers know, ruth had once suffered dreadfully through getting some pepper into her eyes, and it had been feared that she might go blind. "oh, my eyes are quite all right again, jack," answered the girl. "sometimes they feel the least bit scratchy. but i bathe them with a solution the doctor gave me and then they feel quite natural." "i'm mighty glad to hear that," jack returned warmly. for of all the girls who were friends of his sister he liked ruth the best. as luck would have it, there was a very good show on that afternoon, and as a consequence a crowd had assembled to obtain tickets of admission. randy went ahead to get all the tickets needed, and while he did this martha plucked her brother by the coat sleeve and drew him a little to one side. "what's this you've got to tell me, martha?" questioned the young captain in a whisper. "it's about a fellow at your school--a chap named lester bangs," replied the girl. "oh, you mean the fellow we call brassy bangs! what about him?" "he and one or two of his particular chums have been up to clearwater hall three times. they took some of the girls out in a sleigh they hired, and that bangs did his level best to get ruth to go along. and now he has invited her to attend some kind of a party next week," was martha's reply, words which for some reason he could not explain even to himself cut jack to the heart. chapter vii something about a sleighride party "what kind of a party is it, martha?" "i don't know, except that it's somewhere out of town and some of the girls and fellows are going to the place in sleighs. i wasn't asked to go, and i got the information in a roundabout way." "then ruth hasn't said anything to you about it?" "not a word. but i'm sure she received this lester bangs' invitation." "and you think she may accept it?" "i hope not, jack. because i don't like bangs. he wears such showy clothing and jewelry." "that's the reason we call him brassy--he is brassy in looks and brassy in manner. he's just as much of a hot-air bag as tommy flanders," went on the young captain, referring to an arrogant youth who the summer before had pitched for longley academy and been knocked out of the box. "isn't it queer, he put me in mind of flanders?" whispered martha. "i hope you don't have any trouble with him, jack." and then, as some of the others came closer, the private conversation had to come to an end. while in the moving picture theater jack sat with ruth beside him. they occasionally spoke about the scenes presented to them and also about school matters in general, but not one word was said by either about the party martha had mentioned. "mr. falstein certainly gets good pictures," remarked the girl, when the performance had come to an end and the crowd of young people was moving out of the theater. "they're just as good as one can see in the big cities." "they're the same thing, only he gets them a little later," answered jack. "i like the comic pictures better than anything," declared andy. "i hate those serious ones. they're generally so awfully mushy." "why, andy rover, how you talk!" cried alice strobell. "i think that picture they showed today of life in a big city was perfectly grand." "especially where the heroine sobbed herself to sleep over the sewing machine in her garret room," went on andy, with a snicker. "wasn't that just the tear-bringer?" "i don't care! it was just as true to life as it could be," answered alice sturdily. "well, maybe," was the airy return of the fun-loving rover. "come to think of it, i never did run a sewing machine in a garret room with the snow blowing through a busted window. i'd rather sit in the shade of the old apple tree reading a good book and getting on the outside of some ripe pears," he continued, and at this there was general laughter. as was their custom, the young folks drifted from the theater to a nearby candy and ice-cream establishment. here they split up into various groups at some tables in the rear. of course, the boys insisted on treating the girls, and there was quite a discussion over what each would have. martha and mary had paired off with gif and spouter, and fred and the twins were with some of the other girls, and this left ruth and jack by themselves. several times the young captain wanted to bring the conversation around to the question of the party that had been mentioned. but every time he checked himself. "what were you going to say?" questioned ruth, when he caught himself once. "you act as if you had something on your mind of special importance, jack." "not at all! not at all!" he returned hastily. "how are you getting along with your studies, ruth? do your eyes interfere much with them?" "not a great deal. but, of course, i have to be more or less careful. but i'm doing finely, so the teachers say." "we're going to have an election of officers soon," continued the young captain. "some of the fellows are urging me to run for major of the battalion. ralph mason is going to drop out, you know." "oh, jack! why don't you run?" "do you want me to run, ruth?" "why, of course! if there's any chance of getting it, and i don't see why there shouldn't be," she returned quickly. her manner was so intimate that once again he was on the point of mentioning the party. but then he shut his teeth hard and pretended to be interested in something taking place at the other tables. "don't you think you could win the election if you tried?" ruth continued, after looking at him questioningly for a moment. "oh, i guess i'd have as good a chance as any one in command. of course, there are a number of other officers who would have as good a chance as i'd have. but i'm not altogether sure that i want to be major. if i held that office colonel colby would expect me to toe the mark all the time just as an example to the others. even as it was, he didn't like to have me as a captain and fred as a lieutenant mixed up in that snowball affair." "oh, but, jack! think of the honor of being major of the battalion," cried the girl. "i'm sure martha and your folks will be very proud of you." "would you be proud, ruth, if i should win the position?" he asked in a low tone. "why, of course--we all would," returned the girl, her face flushing slightly. "i always like to see my friends make something of themselves." ruth's tone was cordial enough, and once again jack was on the point of switching the talk to the party. but now some of the young folks had finished, and the little gathering began to break up and he and ruth were surrounded by the others. "we've got to do some shopping," declared mary, when they were out on the sidewalk. "so we can't remain with you boys any longer." and a few minutes later the crowd separated, the girls hurrying in one direction and the cadets in another. "you let me know if you hear any more about that party," whispered jack, on parting from his sister. "i will," she answered. on starting back for the hall jack paired off with fred and purposely lagged behind. "did you hear anything about a party in which brassy bangs was interested?" he asked of his cousin. "mary said that brassy was getting up some sort of party, to come off either thursday or friday of this week. the crowd is going somewhere in two big sleighs." "she didn't say where?" "she didn't know." "did she say who was going?" "as far as she knew the crowd of fellows consisted of brassy and two or three of his chums at the hall and some young fellows around town." "and what about the girls, fred?" "they asked jennie mason and ida brierley to go and a number of the other girls from clearwater." "did they ask may?" "mary wasn't sure. but she rather thinks that may and ruth both got an invite, although in some kind of roundabout way. did ruth say anything to you about it?" "not a word. but martha did. she, too, thought ruth had an invitation, but she didn't mention may." "i wonder if may and ruth will go?" questioned the youngest rover. he was almost as chummy with spouter's cousin as jack was with ruth. "i'm sure i don't know, fred. but i do know i'd hate to see either of them going out with such a fellow as brassy." "it will be a shame to have any of those girls associate with him!" burst out fred indignantly. "he's not in their class at all--he's altogether too loud and flashy." "he certainly sports a lot of cheap jewelry," was jack's comment. "and that suit of clothes that he had on when he first came to the hall was a scream." "let's go around to the livery stable and see if we can find out something about the party." the place fred had in mind was located on a side street less than a block away, and it did not take the two young officers long to reach it. they found the livery-stable keeper out, but one of his assistants came forward to see what they wanted. "hello, waxy," cried jack cordially, for he had met the young fellow many times before. "how are you these days?" "fine as a spider's web," answered waxy, with a grin. "i understand you're going to use your two big sleighs for a party this week for some of our fellows?" went on the young captain. "yes, both sleighs are hired for thursday or friday night," was the answer. "but you could get 'em for any other night you might want," went on waxy, with an eye to business. "where is the party to be held?" questioned fred. "i don't know exactly. they're to go about twelve miles out of town, so i was told." "some young fellows from town helping to get it up, i believe?" "yes. tom drake, bill fenny, joe mcguire, ted rosenblatt, and a bunch of others are interested. they'll have one high old time, you believe me," went on the livery-stable keeper's assistant, with a grin. "rather a lively bunch, are they?" questioned jack. "about as lively as this town affords." "it's a wonder some of our fellows are going with them," was fred's comment. "oh, that'll be all right. there won't be anything out of the way," put in waxy hastily, afraid that he had said too much. "they'll have a lively time, but everything will be perfectly all right." "maybe," answered jack, and then, after a few more words with the assistant, the two cadets hurried off after their chums. "if mcguire and rosenblatt have anything to do with that party it will certainly be a lively one," said fred, on the way to the school. "they're the liveliest fellows this town affords." "it won't be any kind of a party for our girl friends to attend," remarked jack. "i certainly hope may and ruth don't go." "maybe we ought to warn them, jack." "if we did that somebody might say we were sore because we weren't invited, fred." "i know it. but it's a shame, just the same." "we might let martha and mary know what we found out, and then they might put a flea in the ears of the other girls." it must be confessed that jack was rather sober that night and all day sunday. he could not get the coming party out of his mind, and he wondered constantly whether ruth would really accept the invitation which had been extended to her. along with a number of other cadets he attended church in town, but, owing to the fact that it had begun to snow again, none of the girls from clearwater hall were present at the services. "i guess i might as well call martha up on the 'phone," he told fred, sunday evening. "all right," was his cousin's reply. "and don't forget to mention may." when the young captain had his sister on the wire he learned a number of things that surprised him not a little. it seemed that the matter of the coming sleighride party had been rather freely discussed at clearwater hall, and a number of the pupils there were divided on the question as to whether to participate in the affair or not. jennie mason, ida brierley, and four or five others were in favor of accepting, while others had either declined or were noncommittal. "some of the girls have gotten almost into a fight over it," said martha. "it's the liveliest thing that has happened in this school in a long while. i believe if the discussion keeps up none of the girls will be allowed to go, even though two married ladies from the town are to go along as chaperones." "did you hear anything further about ruth or anything about may?" questioned jack. "not a word. of course, not having been invited myself, i didn't care to question either of them for fear they might think i was just a bit jealous, or something like that." "well, i don't think they ought to go to any such party," answered jack, and then told what he and fred had learned at the livery stable. "i've heard of joe mcguire and also heard of ted rosenblatt!" exclaimed martha. "i certainly shouldn't want to be seen in their company. i'll have to mention this to some of the others." and here the conversation had to come to an end. on monday morning jack met brassy bangs in one of the corridors and noticed that the loud-spoken youth looked at him rather speculatively. nothing, however, was said, and the young captain entered one of the classrooms and was soon deep in his studies. that evening, however, brassy bangs and two of his chums were missing from their usual places at one of the mess-hall tables. "they got permission to go to town. i suppose they went to make further arrangements about that big sleighing party," remarked randy. to show that he meant to do his best as captain of company c, jack put in a full day on tuesday drilling his command and in the classrooms. as a consequence that evening found him pretty well worn out from his duties. yet he had some studying he felt he must do, and so announced he was going to sit up for a while after his cousins, who occupied rooms on both sides of him, had retired. the young captain was hard at work doing some examples in geometry when there came a sudden sharp rap on his door. thinking that one of his school chums had come to have a word with him before retiring, he threw the door open and found himself confronted by brassy bangs. "i want to have a few words with you, jack rover!" cried the loud-mouthed cadet savagely. and then closing the door he advanced upon the young captain in anything but a friendly manner. chapter viii a fight and a challenge jack rover could see that brassy bangs was laboring under great excitement. the youth who loved to dress in such a showy manner was red of face and his eyes glittered in a manner calculated to make any one quail before him. but the young captain of company c was not going to quail, and he stood his ground and looked the other youth squarely in the face. "you want a few words, eh?" he said coldly. "well, what is it?" "you know well enough what brought me here!" cried brassy. "i've a good mind to wipe up the floor with you!" "i'm not fighting just now, bangs. but don't forget that i can defend myself if it's necessary," answered the young captain quickly. and then he added: "now say what you've got to say or get out." "i'll stay as long as i please," blustered the showy youth. "it's a fine piece of business you've been in--trying to belittle me and my chums in the eyes of the girls at clearwater hall." "if you came here to talk about the young ladies from clearwater the sooner you get out the better," answered jack, his face flushing. "thought you were pulling off a fine stunt, didn't you, when you talked to ruth stevenson about me?" sneered brassy. "i haven't said a word to miss stevenson about you." "i know better, jack rover. you went to her and some of the other girls and told them that my chums and i were no good, and that the sleighride party we and some other fellows were getting up was going to be the wildest thing that ever took place at haven point." "you're entirely mistaken, bangs. and the sooner you get out of here the better it will please me." "do you dare deny that you hauled us over the coals with those girls at clearwater hall?" "i decline to discuss the matter any further with you," answered the young captain. "see here, rover! you can't ride any high horse like that with me," blustered brassy. "you and your cousins and some of the other fellows did your best to queer our whole sleighing party, and you've got to take the consequences!" and now brassy bangs doubled up his fists and tried to look more dangerous than ever. "see here, bangs! if you don't stop your noise and get out of here i'll put you out," returned jack, in a low but firm voice. "i don't want any fight with you, but i want you to understand that i can hold up my end every time." "like pie you can! you put on a big front as a captain, but i know your sort well enough! you can't pull the wool over my eyes! you went to the girls' school and shot off your mouth, and you are going to take the consequences!" and without further ado brassy bangs stepped forward and aimed a heavy blow at jack's face. had the fist landed as intended, jack might have been knocked flat. but the young captain had not been in athletic training for several years for nothing, and he dodged quickly. brassy was carried forward, so that his arm shot over jack's shoulder and his body came in contact with the young captain's arm. the next instant jack had him by the back of the collar and was holding him at arm's length. "now you get out of here!" he cried, and tried to drag brassy toward the door. of course the other youth squirmed, and in an instant there was a rough and tumble scuffle. jack was pushed against the wall, and retaliated by forcing brassy backward over a chair. then the two spun around the room, upsetting a stand containing a number of books. "hello! what's going on here?" came a voice from one of the side rooms, and fred appeared. he had been in bed and was attired only in his pajamas. jack and brassy were so wrought up by this time that neither paid attention to the interruption. nor did they take notice when another door opened and andy and randy came into view. brassy managed to break away and land a blow on jack's arm, and in return received a crack in the chin which sent his head backward and all but unbalanced him. "gee! it's a regular fight," burst out andy. "i didn't know brassy was here." "neither did i," said fred. "why didn't you call us, jack?" "he didn't give me time," answered the young captain. "he accused me of getting him into trouble at clearwater hall, and then pitched into me." "i'll fix you!" yelled brassy, who was now almost beside himself with rage. "i'll fix you!" and he made another lunge for jack. but the blow he intended to deliver fell short, and before he could recover the young captain came at him with a crack in the ear, followed by another on the cheek, and these caused brassy to stagger into a corner where he held fast to a chair. "say, you fellows will have colonel colby here in another minute," warned fred. "i don't care who comes!" bellowed brassy recklessly. "but see here, i'm not going to fight four of you!" he went on sullenly, as he glared from one to another of the rovers. "there won't be any more fight!" cried jack, who had no desire to be brought up before the master of the school again. "fred, open that door!" and then, as the youngest rover did so, he added to his opponent: "now get out of here before i throw you out." "you can't throw me out!" blustered brassy. but then, as jack advanced on him threateningly, he made a sudden spring for the door and ran out into the corridor. "i'm not going to fight four to one. but just wait--this isn't ended yet," he went on, and then disappeared. fred closed the door again, and he and the others gathered around jack, who was panting from his unexpected exertions. "gosh, but he looked mad!" was randy's comment. "what was it all about?" in as few words as possible the young captain explained the situation so far as he was able. "brassy must have gone over to clearwater hall and there got the idea that you were queering that proposed party," was fred's comment. "well, i'm glad if the girls are wise to what is going on." "better chew this over in the morning," admonished andy. "the thing now is to get into bed and put out the lights. one of the professors may be up here any minute." this advice was considered good, and with lightning-like rapidity the room was placed in order and the others retired again, leaving jack to undress and go to bed as quickly as possible. a little later one of the monitors came through the hall, but none of the rovers was disturbed. it was not until two days later that the rovers heard the particulars of what had occurred at clearwater hall. then they learned that, unknown to any of the girls, one of the teachers had been delegated by miss garwood, the head of the academy, to make a quiet investigation concerning the proposed sleighing party. and when this teacher had found out who were on the committee of arrangements, miss garwood had forbidden any of the young ladies to participate. when this became known, brassy bangs had at once concluded that jack--and perhaps some of his relatives and friends--was responsible for what had occurred. the party had been called off. "i'm glad it's called off," said jack. "so am i," returned fred. "but, believe me, jack, brassy will have it in for you after this." "possibly." "you didn't hear anything about what girls intended to go, did you?" put in randy. "i heard jennie mason, ida brierley, and nettie goss mentioned. that's all," answered jack. he would have given a good deal to have known what was the real attitude of ruth and may toward the party. but, as before, neither he nor fred felt inclined to make any direct inquiries. "it almost looks as if brassy had expected ruth to go with him," murmured the young captain to himself, when he was alone that night. and it must be confessed that the thought made him feel quite gloomy. after this incident matters ran along smoothly for a week or more at the hall. during that time the snow commenced to melt and almost before the cadets knew it, it had disappeared entirely. in the meanwhile there was constant talk of the election for officers that was to take place. ralph mason, the major of the school battalion, was about to leave, as was also one of the captains, so there would be first an election to fill these vacancies and then another election in case one or both vacancies were filled by those who were already acting as officers. "i really think you ought to try for the majorship," said gif to jack. "you certainly have done well as a captain." "it would be very nice, gif," was jack's reply. "but i feel sometimes as if i ought to give some of the other fellows a show." "but they may not want it," answered andy. "look at me, for instance. i don't want to be an officer, and neither does randy. and gif here would rather continue at the head of our athletics." "yes, but you fellows are not the whole school," declared jack, with a smile. "i know lots of fellows who want you to run," declared spouter. "and you say the word and i'll go around and do a lot of electioneering for you." the matter was talked over a good many times, and fully twenty of the cadets came to jack and told him they wanted him to run for the office of major. and finally he consented. "hello, here's news!" burst out fatty hendry, one day, as he joined his chums. "it's the richest thing ever," and he grinned broadly. "what's that?" questioned dan soppinger, who was present. "i just heard through teddy brown that brassy bangs wants to run for major. that he even told one of the professors about it." "why, he can't do that!" declared fred quickly. "that is, not without special permission from colonel colby or captain dale. the major is always chosen from among the captains and lieutenants, or those who have been officers before. that is, if there is any one to pick. it's only colonel colby or captain dale who can declare the election open to any one. you can't put a fellow who has just learned to handle a gun to march at the head of the battalion." "well, of course brassy didn't know that, and he wouldn't believe it until captain dale explained it to him. and then he said he thought he ought to be able to hold the position because he was one of the best shots in the school." "well, he certainly is a good shot," declared fred. "i saw him shooting at a target one day and he certainly made some marvelous hits." "he comes from the west--from some place where everybody knows how to shoot," declared walt baxter. "i heard him telling some of the fellows about it one day. he said he had learned to ride and to shoot when he was only six or seven years old. and he can ride, all right enough, too. i saw him do it one day when i was on the road back of the point." "well, i think a few of us can do a little shooting," declared andy. "don't forget that out of a possible twenty-five points fred once made nineteen and jack eighteen." "oh, yes, i remember that," put in ned lowe. "that was the time lew barrow scored twenty." "yes, and the time i scored the whole of ten," chuckled andy. "but i don't care," he added proudly. "i guess i brought down my share of small game when we went hunting." the talk concerning brassy bangs wanting to run for the office of major was true, and the cadet was much disgusted when he found that the regulations of the hall forbade this. "i can beat any one of them at shooting," he grumbled to paul halliday, one of his particular cronies and the fellow who had aided in trying to get up the sleighing party. "of course you can," was halliday's quick reply. then he went on: "say, lest, why don't you challenge jack rover and his cousin fred to shoot against you? you can show 'em up in great shape. it would be better than fighting them." "i'll do it!" announced brassy promptly, for the idea was one that appealed to him. "i'll shoot against them with either pistols or rifles, just as they may choose. i'll show 'em up for a couple of dubs when it comes to handling firearms." "that's the talk!" broke in billy sands, another of bangs' chums. "you say the word and paul and i will take the challenge to the rovers right away." "all provided colonel colby or captain dale will permit the contest," said brassy sourly. "maybe that's another one of the things their dirty rules won't allow." the matter was talked over for a while longer, and the three boys went off to interview captain dale. he listened to them with a smile, and then nodded. "of course you can have a contest of that sort if you desire, bangs," he said presently. following this the challenge to jack and fred was promptly issued. it, of course, came as a surprise to the rovers. "we ought not to dirty our hands with a fellow like bangs," declared the young captain to fred. "oh, we can't afford to refuse, jack!" cried his cousin. "if we did the fellows in the hall would think we were afraid." and thereupon the challenge was accepted. chapter ix the shooting contest it was decided that the shooting contest should take place the next day. "it doesn't give us much time to practice," grumbled fred. "we might as well have it over with," answered jack. "there is no use of allowing it to interfere with our lessons or with the coming election for officers." "do you think we can shoot as well as brassy?" "we can try, fred. from all reports he's quite a wonderful shot. it seems he comes from a place where everybody is used to firearms." it had been decided to hold the contest on the regular range back of the school grounds. fred and jack had been in favor of rifles, but the boy from the west had voted in favor of pistols. as a consequence, captain dale had told them the contest would be divided into two parts of a possible fifteen points each, the first part to take place with pistols and the second with rifles. "say, you fellows have just got to snow brassy under!" cried randy. "don't leave him a leg to stand on." "that's easy enough to say, randy," answered jack. "but it isn't so easy to do." "i know it, and i was only fooling. however, do your best and make some kind of showing against that loud-mouthed fellow." early on the morning of the contest jack and fred received permission to take rifles and pistols and do a little practicing with the firearms. they went out alone, not wishing to be disturbed by any one. as they were crossing the fields they saw a figure coming from a side road. the person approaching had the cape of his overcoat drawn up tightly around his throat and wore his cap pulled down well over his forehead. "that fellow looked like brassy bangs," declared fred, as the distant figure leaped over a hedge and disappeared. "it certainly did look like brassy," answered his cousin. "but what in the world could he be doing out so early in the morning?" "maybe he was practicing a little on his own account." "he didn't have any gun with him." "that's right. but he might have a pistol." "he never struck me as a fellow who would get up so very early. he always appeared to be rather lazy. and besides that, he didn't come from the range. he came from the river road." "i know it, jack. maybe he's been out all night for a good time with some of those fellows from town." after this the two rovers lost no time in hurrying to the rifle range, and there practised with their pistols and their rifles until it was time to return to the hall for roll call and the drill before breakfast. "well, we may not win, but we'll make some kind of a showing," remarked fred. it was a clear day, the air just bracing enough to put the cadets of colby hall in good spirits. when the time came for the contest nearly all of them hurried to the range. "now then, lest, show 'em what you can do!" cried paul halliday. "the rovers won't have a look-in!" broke out billy sands. "it will be a regular walk-away for lest." "don't be so sure of that," answered gif. "brassy may be all right enough with a pistol; but don't forget that jack and fred know how to handle a rifle," added spouter. a coin was tossed up and it was thereby decided that the contest with pistols should take place first. each contestant was to shoot three times, the rings on the target counting from to . the three contestants were to shoot in rotation, fred first, brassy second, and jack last. if fred was a trifle nervous when he went to the front to shoot, he did his best to control it. taking as careful aim as possible, he fired. "a three!" "that's good enough for a starter!" with a self-satisfied look on his face, brassy bangs strode forward, took quick aim, and fired. "a bull's-eye!" shouted billy sands in delight. "i told you he could do it!" added paul halliday. when jack came to the front he managed to make a . "that's the stuff!" cried randy. "you're only one point behind!" on the second round fred managed to make a , while jack scored a , thus tying the rovers. brassy scored a . "seven to nine in favor of bangs!" then came the third round, and again fred scored a and jack did likewise, while brassy delighted his cronies by scoring another bull's-eye. "a total of ten each for the rovers!" "and fourteen for bangs!" "i told you lest could hold 'em down!" shouted billy sands. "just wait till they shoot with the rifles. he'll walk away from 'em!" added paul halliday. it must be admitted that the rovers and their chums were somewhat disappointed that the score stood four points in favor of brassy. "now, fred, do your best," whispered andy to his cousin, as the latter went to the front after carefully examining the rifle handed to him by captain dale. the firearm was a light affair, but of approved pattern and supposed to be quite accurate for use at a distance of two hundred yards. fred took longer to aim with the rifle than he had with the pistol, and there was a breathless silence until after the report rang out. "a four!" "that's the stuff, fred!" "now, brassy, let us see what you can do!" as confident as ever, brassy bangs came to the front, took the rifle handed to him, and shot rather hastily. "a three!" jack was up next, and to the dismay of many of his friends made only a . then came the second round with rifles, and in that fred scored a , bangs a , and jack a . "hurrah! fred rover and brassy bangs are tied with eighteen points each." "and jack rover has fifteen points." then came the final round, and amid a breathless silence fred shot and scored a bull's-eye. then came bangs, and made a . and jack ended the contest with a bull's-eye. "hurrah! fred rover wins the match with twenty-three points!" "yes, and jack rover and brassy bangs are tied for second place with twenty each!" "hurrah for fred rover!" "pretty good shooting, i'll say!" "it was all to the merry, fred!" exclaimed jack, as he caught his cousin's hand. "you did fine!" "the best ever!" burst out andy. "say, jack, why don't you and brassy shoot off the tie?" questioned spouter. "i'm willing," was the ready reply of the young captain. "i'll shoot off the tie with pistols," put in brassy quickly. "no, let it be with rifles," broke in randy. "i'll tell you what i think would be fair," announced captain dale. "each of you take one shot with a rifle and one shot with a pistol." and after quite a little discussion it was so agreed. the pistols were used first, and there brassy made a bull's-eye while jack managed to register a . then the rifles were used, and here jack, shooting first, made a bull's-eye while brassy got a . "hurrah! nine to seven in favor of captain rover!" "some shooting, jack!" "if you had shot as good as that in the first contest you might have beaten fred." "i'm quite content, even if i didn't beat fred," announced the young captain, with a smile. brassy bangs was quite gloomy over the outcome of the contest, and he and his cronies lost no time in quitting the range. "i'm mighty glad you two fellows beat him," announced gif. "maybe it will take a little of the conceit out of him." "well, gif, you've got to admit he's a wonderful shot with the pistol," answered jack. "yes. and his rifle work isn't any worse than mine," answered andy. "now, i'll promise to make a lot of bull's-eyes for you if you'll let me use a good-sized shotgun or a blunderbuss," and at this there was a snicker. for the rest of that day brassy bangs had little to say. but the next morning he was as loud-mouthed as ever, declaring that he would have won the contest had he been allowed to use his own pistol--a long affair of the old-fashioned western variety. "had he done that it might have given him one more point," declared randy. "of course that would have put him ahead of jack in the first contest, but it wouldn't have helped him when it came to the rifle work." "oh, let's drop brassy," said jack. "i am really getting tired of hearing of him." "i can't bear him," put in phil franklin. "once or twice he has tried to become chummy with me, but i've always given him the cold shoulder." it was now drawing on toward the time for the election, and there was a great deal of wire-pulling among the various cadets as to who might run for the offices. three names were in the field for the office of major: jack, a captain glasby, and a lieutenant harkness. glasby was a fellow who was very well liked, while harkness was a lieutenant who at one time had been more or less of a crony of nappy martell, gabe werner, and others of the crowd that had been opposed to the rover boys. "well, i sha'n't complain if glasby gets the position," declared jack. "but i'd hate mightily to see lieutenant harkness at the head of the school battalion." "i never liked harkness myself," put in spouter. "he isn't a bit better in many respects than gabe werner." it was soon noised around the school that brassy bangs and his cronies were doing their best for harkness, while another crowd, led by bart white, were rooting in rather a lively fashion for captain glasby. "we've got to get busy for jack," said gif to spouter. "come on! let's sound out all the fellows in the hall we think we can influence." and thereupon he and spouter and a number of others set to work to electioneer for jack as hard as they could. several days before the election andy and randy obtained permission to go to haven point on an errand. it was rather a disagreeable, misty day, and they were tramping along through the mud on the outskirts of the town when they saw brassy bangs and a stranger ahead of them. the stranger was a tall, thin individual, dressed in an old-fashioned suit of rusty black and with a big slouch hat pulled well down over his head. he was puffing away at a large black cigar, and seemed to be very much in earnest in what he was saying to brassy. "i saw that fellow around the school about a week ago," declared randy. "he didn't look like a very nice sort, either." "he certainly has a fierce-looking mustache," was andy's comment. "and it's as red as his hair." "i tell you i can't do it, and that's all there is to it," the boys heard brassy exclaim, in reply to something the stranger had said. "and i say you've got to do it," returned the man, and his tone was decidedly ugly. "you've got to do it--or otherwise you've got to take the consequences." "you wouldn't be so mean, haddon!" pleaded brassy, and now the rovers could see that he was more or less scared. "wouldn't i?" returned the strange man harshly. "you just try me and see! the best thing you can do is to agree to what i said. if you don't, well----" and here the tall man shrugged his shoulders--"you'll do as i said before--or you'll take the consequences." chapter x spouter's secret "say, this is rather interesting," remarked randy in a low tone to his brother. "that fellow is certainly threatening brassy," returned andy. "i wonder what it can be all about." "he wants brassy to do something." the two rovers kept on behind bangs and the man called haddon, and presently saw them turn down a side street where was located a small factory that had been in operation during the war but which was now closed. both disappeared into a shed attached to the factory. "let's see if we can find out what it's all about," said randy. "i'm willing," answered his twin. "maybe that fellow will grow abusive and hurt brassy." "well, a good licking wouldn't hurt him," answered his brother, with a grin. "oh, that's all right. but we don't want to see him half killed even if we don't like him." "you trust brassy to take care of himself," was the quick reply. the twins hurried to the shed and there found that the door had been left open and that the man and their fellow-cadet had gone into another part of the low building. "you know as well as i do that that barn and them hosses was worth at least twelve thousand dollars," the man was saying to brassy. "that was a big loss for john calder." "please don't say another word about it!" pleaded brassy. "i won't if you'll do as i told you to." "but i've let you have a hundred and ten dollars already! it's every cent i can spare!" "well, i've got to have more." "i'll bet you've been gambling it away, haddon." "it's none of your business what bud haddon does with his money!" exclaimed the stranger, with a toss of his head and blowing a ring of tobacco smoke toward the ceiling of the shed. "if you don't want me to start things you do as i told you to." "do you know what i think!" exclaimed brassy, after a pause. "i think those tramp cowboys were guilty." "you can't put that off on no cowboys!" exclaimed bud haddon. "i know all about it, and so do jillson and dusenbury." "they don't know anything--at least they don't know anything about me!" cried brassy. but it was plainly to be seen that he was exceedingly nervous. "somebody's been cooking up a story against me!" "ain't nobody cookin' up nothin'," growled the man. "i know what i'm talkin' about. you'd better get busy if you know when you're well off. if you don't, and your uncle gets wind of this--well, good-night for you!" "oh, don't say anything to my uncle! please don't!" "well, then you get busy. i've hung around here about as long as i intend to. i'm goin' back to chicago in a few days." at this juncture the rovers heard a noise outside, and several boys playing hide-and-seek appeared. not wishing to be discovered by brassy and his companion, andy and randy hurried out into the street and up to the corner. here they waited for a while, and presently saw brassy and bud haddon come forth. the man sauntered away in the direction of the town while brassy sped off on the winding road leading to colby hall. "now what do you make of this?" questioned randy, as he and his brother continued on their errand. "it looks rather suspicious to me," answered andy. "it looks as if brassy had done something that wasn't right and this man was going to expose him unless brassy paid over some hush money." "yes, and from what brassy said, he evidently has already paid the man one hundred and ten dollars." on the way back to colby hall after their errand was finished the twins discussed the matter, but could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion. that evening they told their cousins of what they had heard, and also mentioned the matter to gif and spouter. "it looks to me as if that bud haddon had a hold on brassy," remarked jack. "but whether brassy is really guilty or not of some wrongdoing remains to be found out." "i wouldn't put it past him to do something that wasn't right," came from fred. "that remains to be seen, fred. brassy might do some things that we wouldn't do; but at the same time i doubt if he's so very bad at heart. he's loud-mouthed and has a hasty temper, and he likes to show off, and all that sort of thing, but that doesn't say he's a criminal." "that bud haddon looks like a bad one," announced randy. "i wouldn't trust him with a nickel." "it certainly is a mystery," came from fred. "just the same as it's a mystery about professor duke." "gosh, don't mention duke!" broke out gif. "i had all i could do to keep from getting into a row with him this morning. he certainly is a tart one at times." "but he looks troubled," answered jack. "ever since colonel colby spoke about him i've been watching him carefully. and, believe me, that man has something on his mind that's far from pleasant." "he certainly comes and goes a good deal," said spouter. "he was away several hours last night and the night before. and i understand he's going away to-morrow afternoon again." "colonel colby must know it's all right. otherwise he wouldn't let him go away so much," declared gif. on the following morning when the mail was distributed spouter received a letter from his father that interested him greatly. he read the communication several times, and then, placing it in his pocket, ran off to where he had left gif. "come on, gif!" he cried gayly. "i've got great news! come ahead and help find the rovers." "what's the news?" demanded the other, as they hurried on side by side. "just wait and i'll tell you all about it--maybe." and then spouter stopped short, struck by a sudden idea. he thought for a few seconds and then his face broke into a broad smile. the two boys found the rovers up in room , which the four cousins used as a sitting room. all were busy studying and looked up in surprise as spouter dashed in with gif at his heels. "glorious news, boys! glorious news!" sang out spouter, as he beamed at them. "what is it?" they demanded in chorus. "glorious, i tell you, glorious!" spouter waved his hands eloquently. "why remain cooped up here within the dingy walls of a school when the mighty plains, the boundless forests, the leaping streams, and the azure blue of the skies await you? why snuff the tainted air of the musty classroom when the free ozone of the hills and mountains beckons to you? why waste time over musty books when rifle and fishing rod can be had, when one can fling himself in the saddle and go dashing madly across the----" "jumping crabs and hopping mud turtles!" exclaimed andy. "spouter has got 'em again!" "what is this, spouter?" demanded randy. "a moving picture, or just a plain everyday nightmare?" "ha, ha!" continued spouter, prancing around. "whoopee! bang! bang! let her go, boys! lasso him quick before he gets away!" and the talkative cadet made a movement as if throwing a lasso. "say, spouter, come down to earth, will you?" cried jack, grabbing his chum by the shoulder. "what's the matter with you?" "maybe he swallowed a few yeast cakes by mistake," remarked andy. "it's the best news ever, fellows!" went on spouter. "i got it this morning." "all right! let's have it," came quickly from fred. "i've been waiting for this news for several weeks." "news from where?" came from the others. "news from home." "from your dad?" questioned randy. "exactly." "what has he done now--bought you an automobile?" questioned gif. "better than that!" "for goodness' sake, spill out what you've got to say!" returned fred, in exasperation. "when we went to cedar lodge on our grand hunt we were gif's guests," resumed spouter. "this summer the tables are to be turned, and all of you are to be the guests of yours truly." "gee, that sounds interesting, spouter!" cried randy. "where do we go and when?" questioned his twin. "you're to go just as soon as school shuts down and you can get ready." "and where to?" questioned jack curiously. "ha! that's the deep, dark and delightful secret," returned spouter. "you're all to be my guests, and i'll promise you the time of your lives. oh, boys, but this is going to be something great!" and the cadet playfully pounded one and another on the shoulder with his fist. "but how can we go if we don't know where we're going?" asked fred. "you'll know, fred, before you're on the way," was the mysterious answer. "and, believe me, after you've found out you won't want to turn back." "what! do you mean you're not going to tell us where we're going?" demanded jack, in astonishment. "exactly, jack. that's going to be my little secret until this school shuts up," and spouter folded his arms calmly and grinned at all his chums. they looked at him in blank amazement. this was a proceeding that had never happened before. suddenly gif made a dash forward. "let's pound it out of him!" "that's the talk! we'll make him tell!" "pull him down and sit on him!" "pull off his shoes and tickle his feet! he's got to tell!" "poke him in the ribs!" "he got a letter this morning. i'll bet the news is in that!" shouted gif. "it's in his pocket now!" all attempted to pounce upon spouter, but he was too quick for them, and, dashing across the room, he shot into fred's bedroom, banging the door after him. then, as the others followed, he ran out into the corridor and then sped for his own room, where he locked the door behind him. then he hid the letter in a place where he was sure none of his chums would find it. "well, this takes the bakery!" announced randy, after all of them had pounded on spouter's door in vain. "what do you suppose it means?" "it's simple enough," remarked jack. "spouter is going to invite us on some sort of outing this summer, but he doesn't want to tell us yet what sort it's to be." "he spoke about mountains and rivers and horseback riding," said randy. "that looks like some sort of outdoor affair," and his eyes glistened. "come on out, spouter, and let us love you a little," called fred through the keyhole. "you go on down and i'll meet you downstairs," was the reply. "and remember, you're not to know another word about this until vacation comes." "going to take us away in a submarine, spouter?" demanded andy. "no, he's going to take us in an airship to the south pole," declared his twin. "never mind where i'm going to take you," answered spouter. "you just keep calm until vacation time comes, and then you'll learn fast enough in what direction you're going to travel. and, believe me, we'll have some outing, or else i'll miss my guess." and with this statement the rover boys and gif had to be content. chapter xi the election for officers "company attention! shoulder arms! forward march!" boom! boom! boom, boom, boom! the drums rang out clearly on the morning air and the colby hall battalion swung into line on a march that carried it around the school buildings and then to the lake shore. here colonel colby and captain dale inspected the three companies. then the retiring major, ralph mason, was called on for a little speech which brought forth many cheers, and after this the command was dismissed. it was the day for the election, and there was to be no school session until the afternoon. at the last election there had been a total of votes cast. but now there were one hundred and twenty-five cadets at the institution. there had been some talk of organizing a new command to be known as company d, but so far this had not materialized. as was the custom, the election was held in the main hall of the school and was presided over by captain dale and professor brice. "i see they expect a hundred and twenty-five votes," remarked randy. "that means sixty-three will be necessary to a choice." "well, i'm sure jack will get at least forty on the first vote," returned his brother. "i hope he gets the whole sixty-three," put in dan soppinger. dan had once run for a captaincy, but had dropped out and turned most of his attention to athletics. as at other elections, it was decided by colonel colby that each officer should be voted for separately. "we'll try for a new major first," announced the head of the hall. the ballot box was placed on the table, and after a short intermission during which there was some very active electioneering among the various groups assembled, a bell rang and the cadets were formed in one long line and told to march up and deposit their ballots in the box. it must be admitted that jack was rather anxious, although he did his best to conceal it. he smiled at captain glasby, who smiled back. then he smiled at lieutenant harkness, but that under-officer only favored him with a scowl. "harkness will never win anything with that look on his face," was gif's comment, as he noticed the scowl. "the fellows like an officer who can take things pleasantly." it did not take the cadets long to vote, and as soon as all of the ballots had been cast captain dale, assisted by professor brice, began to tabulate the vote. in less than ten minutes they had finished. then a bell rang and captain dale came forward to read the result. "total number of votes cast . . . . . . . necessary to a choice . . . . . . . . . . louis glasby has . . . . . . . . . . . . . jack rover has . . . . . . . . . . . . . . darrell harkness has . . . . . . . . . . . " "what do you know about that!" exclaimed fred. "jack and glasby are within one vote of each other!" "i'll say that's getting pretty close," answered randy. "as no cadet has received the number of votes necessary to a choice, i will give the school a recess for fifteen minutes. then we will vote again--for the same cadets or for new ones if you feel so inclined." after this brief announcement by captain dale came a hum of voices and there was some strenuous electioneering in all parts of the hall and also in the corridors and out on the campus. "glasby is stronger than i thought he was," remarked gif to jack. "we'll have to do some tall work to overcome his vote." "i think we can get some of the harkness fellows to come over to us," put in spouter. "i don't believe he's as popular as he thinks." "maybe we can get him to withdraw," suggested andy, with a grin. "withdraw, not!" broke out fred. "he's not that sort." while the conversation was going on somebody touched jack on the shoulder, and turning he found himself confronted by paul halliday. "say, see here, rover! i'd like a word with you," whispered halliday somewhat excitedly. "all right, shoot!" answered the young captain. "this is a little private matter," went on halliday. "you can bring your cousins along if you want to," he added. wondering what halliday had in his mind, jack, along with fred and andy who happened to be close by, followed him to an out-of-the-way corner of a corridor. "we want to know if you're willing to make a deal with us," said halliday in a low, nervous tone of voice. "you know harkness got twenty-four votes. well, he's willing to throw those votes to you if you are willing to back him for the new captain of company c." "i can't do that," answered jack quickly. "if i get to be major i'm going to back fred here for the captaincy." "oh, but, jack, i could drop out of that!" put in his cousin quickly. "not much, fred! i said i was going to do it, and i'm going to stick to my word. besides that, i might as well tell you, halliday, that i don't believe harkness is the best fellow for the position." "then you won't consider my offer?" demanded halliday sourly. "certainly not!" "i don't believe you can control the harkness votes," put in andy. "i believe jack will get a whole lot of them on the next ballot." "he won't get a one of them, and he'll lose some of his own!" answered paul halliday. "you just wait and see!" and then he walked away. "jack, that move might have given you the majorship," said fred. "if i've got to get it that way, fred, i don't want it," was the prompt reply. "i wouldn't vote for harkness under any circumstances. he's in hand and glove with brassy bangs, halliday, sands, and that whole bunch; and i don't believe he ought to be an officer." a few minutes later came a commotion near the main entrance of the hall. a cadet named gibson who was doing some electioneering for glasby had knocked paul halliday down, and there was every prospect of a fight when the two cadets were separated by a number of friends. "he offered to sell the harkness vote if our crowd would vote later on the way he wanted us to!" declared gibson. "you would think he had half the vote of the hall in his pocket," and he glared at halliday, who thereupon lost no time in sneaking out of sight. the report that halliday, sands, and even brassy bangs were trying to sell the harkness vote in exchange for some votes for a captaincy soon spread, and a number of the cadets who had voted for the lieutenant became disgusted and promptly said they were going to change. a lively discussion followed, in the midst of which the bell rang for the second ballot. "gee, jack! if some of those fellows do change their votes i hope they come to you," murmured gif. "well, i must confess i'm hoping that myself," answered the young captain, with a smile. once more the boys lined up and deposited their ballots. then came some anxious waiting, and finally captain dale announced the result: "total number of votes cast..... necessary to a choice............ jack rover has................... louis glasby has................. darrell harkness has.............. peter floyd has................... " "hurrah! jack wins!" cried fred enthusiastically, and was the first person to grab his cousin by the hand and shake it warmly. "that's great, jack!" exclaimed gif, slapping him on the shoulder. "let me congratulate you!" "it's just the result i was looking for!" burst in spouter, his face wreathed in smiles. of course, louis glasby was much disappointed, but he took his defeat in good part and came up bravely to shake jack by the hand. "it was a fair and square contest, jack," he said. "and i congratulate you." and then turning to the other cadets he called out: "three cheers for major rover!" they were given with a will; and then colonel colby, captain dale, and many of the older persons came forward to congratulate the newly-elected head of the school battalion. "speech! speech!" came the cry from the students. "a speech from the new major!" and almost before he was aware of it jack was escorted to the platform. "i don't know what to say to you," he said, as he faced his fellow-students. "i thank you very heartily for your support and i will do my best to deserve it. i want to say that i am particularly pleased at the nice manner in which louis glasby has taken his defeat. he's a fine fellow and i hope i shall always have him for my friend." and following these words there was more cheering. "evidently the harkness combination went to pieces," remarked randy. "he polled only nine votes." "and that was nine too many," murmured his brother. following the election for major, captain dale announced that they would next vote for a new captain for company a. "i don't know what you fellows are going to do, but i know i'm going to vote for louis glasby," announced jack. "i think a whole lot of fellows will do that," answered fred. "he'll probably get every one of his original fifty-one votes." again there was an intermission of a quarter of an hour, and then the boys were lined up for the vote to fill the vacancy in company a. on the first ballot glasby got votes while fred poled votes, the rest being scattering. then on the second ballot glasby was declared elected with votes in his favor. "three cheers for captain glasby of company a!" called out jack quickly, as he shook hands with his late rival, and the cheers were given with as much of a will as they had been for the newly-elected major. "well, i got thirty-two votes on that last ballot," announced fred. "that shows i've got some friends in this school. i don't want to be the captain of company a. i'd rather remain a lieutenant of company c." "but we've got to have a new captain for company c now that jack has stepped out," put in phil franklin. a quarter of an hour later the balloting began for a new captain for the company jack had commanded. here developed a spirited rivalry, and it was not until the fifth ballot that the final vote was taken. then fred won by votes with the other votes scattered among eight contestants. "three cheers for captain fred rover!" shouted phil franklin enthusiastically, and threw his cap high in the air. he had electioneered as hard as anybody for the youngest rover. then fred was called on for a little speech, and after that there was another election for lieutenants and a number of minor officers. "it certainly was our day, fred," said jack, as he and his cousin shook hands. "right you are, major rover," and fred saluted in the most precise military fashion. "bonfires to-night, boys!" sang out andy. "and we'll have some big doings, believe me!" "right you are!" declared his twin. chapter xii bonfire night it was the custom at colby hall for the officers of the battalion to take dinner with colonel colby on the day of an election. this was quite a formal affair and the cadets to participate made it a point to look their best. "say, jack, you're going to make a stunning looking major," remarked fred, as he watched his cousin dressing. "how about yourself as captain?" was the reply. "just wait till ruth stevenson sees jack in his new uniform!" cried randy. "say, jack, why not have a life-sized photo taken and give it to her to hang over her dressing table?" put in andy, with a grin. "you beware, andy," admonished his cousin, waving a finger severely at him. "remember, as the commandant of the battalion, i can throw you into a dungeon cell if i feel so inclined," and jack strutted around grandly in the privacy of the rovers' sitting room. "i'll be good, oh, most noble one," answered the fun-loving rover, bowing down until his head almost touched his feet. jack and fred had already sent word to martha and mary, and they, of course, had told ruth and the others. it is needless to say that the rover girls and their chums were almost as much pleased over the results of the election as the boys had been. "i'm just dying to see them on parade with jack at the head," confided martha to the others. "yes, and fred in command of company c," added mary. "just to think of it! and he so much younger than the others!" "i hope i'm on hand to see their first parade," said ruth, her eyes beaming with pleasure. "i thought you were going to write jack a letter about that party," said martha in a low tone. "i am. to-night. and i'll let him know that i've wanted to do it ever since the party was talked of," went on ruth. the officers' dinner was a great success. every one present made a little speech and colonel colby and captain dale made addresses to which the cadets listened with keen attention. "it is my desire to make this military academy one of the best in the country," declared the colonel earnestly. "and i cannot do that without the sincere coöperation of every cadet attending the institution. as many of you know"--and here he glanced at jack and fred--"when i was about your age i attended putnam hall military academy. i am sure the training i received there did me much good, and i am also sure that i made many friends who will stand by me as long as i live. "i want this institution to be one of good-fellowship all around, and i am relying upon all of you to do your best. at putnam hall in many respects we followed the honor system which i have put into operation here. that honor system did not fail there, and i do not look for it to fail here. i want you all to have a good time; but there is a limit, and every one of you knows what that limit is just as well as i do. in the late war the training which some of our soldiers had received at putnam hall stood them in good stead. and i want the training received here to be of equal benefit if any of my cadets should ever be called upon to fight for our country." "three cheers for colonel colby!" came from jack a minute later, and the boys assembled nearly split their throats trying to do justice to their feelings. while this dinner was going on the other cadets had their repast in the mess hall and then flew off in all directions to prepare for the real festivities of the evening. they had gotten together several piles of barrels and boxes, as well as brushwood from the forest behind the school, and these were soon heaped up along the river bank into great bonfires, the light of which could be seen a long distance. "it's going to be some night, believe me!" sang out andy merrily. "we'll tear the woodpile down, as the old saying is." "we want to be a little bit careful or else we'll have snopper duke or some other professor calling us down." "snopper duke is going away. i heard him tell one of the other teachers that he had had a sudden call to go somewhere out of town," answered randy. "going away again, eh?" questioned gif, in surprise. "he certainly is getting to be a regular man of mystery." the greater part of the cadets were wildly excited over the prospects of a good time that night. a few of them, however, including lieutenant harkness, paul halliday, and brassy bangs, looked far from pleased. "they make me tired," was brassy's comment. "you'd think that being major of the school battalion was next to being president." "if i can't be anything better than a lieutenant i think i'll resign altogether," returned harkness. "i'd rather go in for athletics." "you'll have a pretty good chance if you do," announced paul halliday. "i understand they're going to try to divorce the officers from participating in baseball and football as much as possible. a fellow can hold a commission and be on a team at the same time only when it seems absolutely necessary." "then jack rover and fred rover will have to give up playing baseball," put in brassy quickly. "more than likely. although, of course, they'll hate to lose such good players as they are," put in another cadet who was present. when the officers' dinner was at an end jack and fred lost no time in hurrying to their rooms, where they donned their old uniforms. it was what was termed a "holiday night" at the hall, which meant that for the time being the cadets were all on an even footing and must treat each other as if such a thing as an officer was unknown. by the time jack and fred joined the crowd along the river bank the fun was at its height. many of the cadets were running around indulging in all sorts of horseplay while others were dancing around the bonfires singing the songs they had learned in the school and while at the encampments. several of the boys, including andy, were in clowns' costume with big slapsticks which they used vigorously on everybody who came within their reach. "hurrah, boys, let her flicker!" cried fred, as he rushed forward. "everybody join in!" he added, and then boomed out with this well-known hall refrain: "who are we? can't you see? colby hall! dum! dum! dum, dum, dum! here we come with fife and drum! colby! colby! colby hall!" "that's the stuff!" cried jack. "let's have it again!" and then the refrain boomed out louder than ever. "come on! let's march around the school," came from gif, and he caught up a firebrand as he spoke. a number of others were quick to follow his example, and in a minute more a torchlight procession was in progress, winding along over the campus, around the school, and through the edge of the woods beyond. then the boys came back by way of the barns and sheds in the rear. "look out that you don't set something on fire," warned jack. "something is on fire already!" burst out andy suddenly. "you don't say!" queried spouter. "where is the fire?" demanded half a dozen others, looking around anxiously. "right down there," declared the fun-loving rover, and pointed to the bonfires along the river. "wow! let's duck him for that!" cried phil franklin. he made a dive for andy and so did several others, but the agile rover was too quick for them and danced out of their reach, having no desire to take an involuntary bath in the river, which at that time of the year was very cold. in the past the cadets had had considerable fun with job plunger, the school janitor, who was quite deaf and who was often called shout because everybody had to shout at him to make him hear. but this time plunger was wise and kept out of sight, as did also pud hicks, his assistant, and bob nixon, the chauffeur. the only person the boys could get hold of was si crews, the gymnastic instructor. "give us a song, won't you?" asked several of the boys at once, for si crews was known to be quite a singer. "i will if lowe will play the mandolin or the banjo," answered crews. "that's the stuff, ned!" called fred. "go on and get your mandolin." ned lowe, who was also a good singer, was willing, and at once ran off into the school to get the musical instrument mentioned. when he came out he tuned up hastily and then played while si crews sang one or two old-time songs. then ned gave the crowd one or two funny songs and a dozen or more of the cadets joined in the chorus. "here's a chance to get square with codfish!" cried fred, as the sneak of the school showed himself in the crowd. "oh, we might as well let codfish drop," answered jack. but before this could be done andy and randy caught hold of stowell and pushed him forward through the circle of merry cadets around one of the fires. "we're going to initiate you in the ancient order of cornmeal," declared andy. "i don't want to be initiated," answered codfish. "you let me alone!" [illustration: there descended upon codfish several pounds of finely-ground cornmeal. rover boys at big horn ranch (page )] "oh, but this is a first-class order, codfish," returned randy. "if your reputation is bad it will render you almost spotless." "you let me go!" burst out codfish in sudden fear, as andy and randy and several others came close to him. "i don't want any horseplay to-night. i'm tired out." "to be initiated in this order you've got to lie down," continued andy, and, motioning to his brother and some of the others, they suddenly caught poor codfish and stretched him out on the grass in front of the fire. "are you ready to be initiated?" questioned randy solemnly, as he stood over codfish with a small paper bag in one hand. "you let me----" began codfish. "he says 'let me!'" burst out randy quickly. "so go to it, most potent sower of the ancient and honorable order of cornmeal! go to it, i say!" and thereupon without further ado randy overturned the paper bag he held in his hand and there descended upon codfish several pounds of finely-ground meal which the lads had purchased in town a day or two before. "hi! hi! what's this? you let me go!" cried codfish, and then began to splutter as the dry cornmeal got into his mouth and nose. "my, codfish, you'd make a regular muffin now," declared andy, as the whitened youth struggled to his feet. "give us a song, codfish." "make it a regular corncake hoedown," put in randy. "you let me go!" shrieked codfish, and then in commingled rage and fear he suddenly caught up a long firebrand from the bonfire and whirled it around rapidly before him. "get out of my way--all of you!" he screamed, and the next minute made a movement as if to dash the firebrand directly into randy's face. chapter xiii a startling discovery "drop that, codfish!" exclaimed randy, and backed away so suddenly that he tripped over some brushwood and came down flat on his back. "i'm not going to be tormented any more," stormed codfish, and swung the firebrand around again, this time so the flames brushed andy's shoulder and also fred's arm. "drop that, you imp!" exclaimed ned lowe. "do you want to put out somebody's eyes?" "i don't care! you've got to let me alone!" screamed codfish. "we won't let you alone until you learn how to behave yourself and act like the other fellows do," answered andy. "you're the worst sneak this school ever had, and you know it!" "yes, and see how you acted after all we did for you when we were at cedar lodge," added randy, who had scrambled to his feet. "i--i didn't mean to say anything about those snowballs," whined stowell. "they made me do it!" and thereupon, pitching the firebrand back on the bonfire, he pushed his way through the crowd of cadets and disappeared in the darkness in the direction of the school. "gee, he certainly is a pill!" was dan soppinger's comment. "i think none of us would weep if codfish left the school for good. how about it?" "never mind--don't let it spoil the festivities," cried andy gayly. "come on! everybody join in! a fine of one suspender button for the fellows who don't sing!" and thereupon he began a ditty he had composed during the war. "johnny get your musket! you must get your musket! johnny get your musket! you must get it now!" and this ditty the lads sang over and over again as they leaped and swung in a circle around the bonfires. but all gala occasions must come to an end, and by eleven o'clock the bonfires were nothing but heaps of smouldering ashes, and then one by one the cadets returned to the hall and retired. "well, jack, it will seem kind of funny, won't it, to be at the head of the school battalion to-morrow morning?" questioned gif, as he and the newly-elected major turned into the corridor leading to their rooms. "yes, gif. but it won't be so very strange either, because you know i had to command the battalion two or three times when the other officers were away." their activities during the whole of the day had made the cadets sleepy, and nearly all turned in without much ado. here and there there was an exception, and these included fatty hendry and dan soppinger. "i've got to get out some sort of a composition on city improvements," declared fatty. "i don't know much about 'em, but if i don't get the paper in by nine o'clock to-morrow morning there's going to be trouble." "and i still have some examples in algebra to work out," answered dan. "so i think i'll go at them before i retire." all of the rovers slept soundly and did not awaken until they heard an unexpected knock on their door some time before the rising bell. "let me in," came in the voice of dan soppinger. "i've got news." jack opened the door and dan came in, followed by fatty. "say, what do you know about this!" exclaimed dan. "colby hall has been robbed!" "robbed!" ejaculated jack. "what do you mean? what did they take?" "what did they take!" burst out fatty. "i guess they took about everything they could get their hands on that was easy to carry off. i lost my stickpin and my watch." "and i lost two old stickpins and two rings that i haven't been wearing," put in dan. "when did you find this out?" questioned the newly-elected major. "i made the discovery just when i was going to bed after doing some examples in algebra," answered dan. "it was about half-past twelve, so i didn't want to wake anybody up--that is, none of the other fellows, although i did call on fatty because i knew he was writing a composition. he looked around his room then and found he had been robbed, too. then, as professor duke was away, we called on professor watson. he made an investigation and then said he would report to colonel colby the first thing this morning." the talk in jack's room had brought fred to the scene, and a few minutes later randy and andy came in, rubbing their eyes sleepily. "what was your stuff worth, dan?" questioned fred. "i think the rings were worth about fifteen dollars each, and the stickpins almost as much." "my stickpin was worth thirty-five dollars," groaned fatty. "and the watch was a gold one given to me by my grandfather, and i wouldn't lose that for a good deal." "hark! what's that commotion?" put in jack suddenly. there was a murmur of excited voices in the corridor, and, throwing open the door, the rovers and their friends came out to see what was up. "my room has been robbed!" "my watch is gone and a whole lot of other jewelry!" "i lost three dollars!" "huh, that isn't anything! i lost fourteen dollars and a half!" so the talk ran on as an excited group of cadets, some fully attired and some still wearing their pajamas, crowded forward. "say, what do you know about this!" exclaimed fred. "is anything belonging to us gone?" questioned jack suddenly. "i'm going back to find out," came from randy. "i was so sleepy last night that i just tumbled into bed and let it go at that." without further ado the four rovers ran back into the rooms they occupied and began a search of their chiffoniers and the other places where they kept their things of value. "my stickpin is gone and also one of my rings," groaned randy. "i had a brand new five-dollar bill tucked away in one of my drawers," said his brother. "i can't find it anywhere. and, yes, my wrist-watch is missing!" "my watch and chain and stickpin are gone, and likewise all my badges!" cried fred. "oh, this is the worst ever!" "well, i'm out a ring and three stickpins," announced jack, "including that brand new pin i got last year." as quickly as possible the four rovers dressed and then joined the other cadets in the corridor. from all sides were heard excited exclamations as one pupil after another came forward to announce that either his jewelry or his money--and sometimes both--were gone. colonel colby and several of the professors had already been notified, and they quickly appeared on the scene and tried to interview the cadets. this, however, was a hard thing to undertake because nearly all the boys wanted to talk at once. there was so much excitement that for the time being the morning parade and breakfast were completely forgotten. "this is certainly a terrible state of affairs," remarked the colonel to captain dale. "have you any idea who can be guilty?" "no, colonel. i have always thought that every one connected with this school was honest." "it may be the work of some of the hired help," mused colonel colby. "but i hate to think that. every one who is here came highly recommended." "we might make inquiry and see if any strangers were in the school last night during the celebration," suggested captain dale. "there was so much excitement that some one might have slipped in and out without our noticing." finally colonel colby told all the cadets to go below for breakfast, dispensing with the early morning drill. "as soon as you have finished eating i wish each cadet to make a thorough search of his room and make out a written list of everything that is missing and sign the paper. take careful note of everything when you are making your search, and if you find any clues to the perpetrator of this outrageous affair, let me know. the lists can be left at the office as soon as they are made out." and then, after a moment of thought, he added: "there will be no session of the school this morning." "shall we notify the haven point authorities?" questioned professor brice. "not at present. i wish to make my own investigation first," answered the head of the school. it did not take jack and his cousins long to swallow their breakfast, and this finished, they hurried back to their rooms and began the search colonel colby had advised. "well, i'm shy that gold fountain pen aunt martha gave me," announced jack presently. "i'd forgotten about that because i didn't usually use it. i use the one mother gave me." outside of this the rovers could find nothing more missing nor did they locate anything in the way of a clue that might lead to the robber. they sat down and made out their brief lists, signed them, and then walked together down to the office. here a crowd of cadets were coming and going. it was learned that twenty-two cadets in all had suffered losses which ranged from seventy-five cents to one hundred and twenty-five dollars. in all it was figured that the loss would amount to at least twelve hundred dollars. "this is about the worst thing that ever struck colby hall," announced jack. "who do you suppose did it?" questioned randy. "don't ask me, randy. i'd hate to suspect any of the fellows." "oh, i don't think any of the fellows did it!" burst out fred. "well, what about the hired help?" questioned andy. "i don't know any of them that i'd suspect," said jack promptly. "every one looks like a pretty good sort." only two cadets came forward with objects that might possibly be a clue to the robbery. one boy had picked up a handkerchief in his room that he said did not belong to him, and another boy had found the marks of muddy footprints over his window sill and on a fire-escape outside. "say, that looks as if somebody had come up the fire-escape and got into the rooms that way," said jack, when he heard of this. "they say the handkerchief that was picked up is not marked in any way," said gif. "well, every handkerchief used by the cadets is marked," returned spouter. "they've got to be that way or they'd get all mixed up in the laundry." "how about the help?" "their stuff is all marked, too. one of the teachers told me so," put in dan soppinger. "say, ned! you came upstairs for your mandolin," cried jack suddenly. "did you see anybody up here?" "i don't remember that i did," answered ned lowe. "i was in such a hurry to get the instrument that i didn't pay much attention. and, besides that, it seemed pretty dark in here after coming away from that big bonfire." "a robber would be sure to keep out of ned's sight," put in fred. "i remember seeing some fellows in the lower hall--major mason, bart white, and one or two others. but i can't seem to remember seeing anybody upstairs--and yet, somehow or other, it seems to me i did pass somebody just before i ran into my room," and now ned looked perplexed. "can't you think who it was?" questioned andy quickly. "no, i can't." "if it was a stranger you would have remembered, wouldn't you?" asked jack. "i think i would, jack. i'd think right away what that person was doing upstairs." ned scratched his head. "no, if i did meet somebody, i'm sure it must have been one of the cadets. but who it was, i can't think." a little later colonel colby continued his investigation by asking all those who had been inside the building during the celebration to come forward and tell anything they could that might be of advantage. it developed that not only ned but also ralph mason, bart white and two of the older cadets named lawrence and philips had been upstairs some time between eight and eleven o'clock. the most of these cadets said they had seen no one else upstairs in the building. but bart white declared while at one end of a long corridor he had seen some one slip around a corner out of sight. he was not sure whether the person had been a cadet, one of the hired help, or an outsider. "it was either a man or a big boy," said bart. "but he moved so quickly and it was so dark i didn't recognize him, even if i happened to know him." "and what time was this?" questioned colonel colby. "some time between half-past nine and ten o'clock." bart was asked to show the colonel where the disappearance of the stranger had taken place, and it was proved that this was at a point just around a corner from the room where the footprints leading to the fire-escape had been discovered. "perhaps you saw the person just at the time he was making his escape," was colonel colby's comment. "we will look for footprints below the fire-escape." this was done, but the cadets the night before had tramped around the school building so much that the footprints were hopelessly mixed. then the boys were questioned as to whether or not they had seen any one dropping from the fire-escape to the ground, and all answered in the negative. "we will question the hired help and see what they have to say," announced the master of the school. chapter xiv the parade the inquiries made among the hired help of colby hall produced little results. some of the servants were rather scared and declared to colonel colby that they were innocent of any wrong doing. "i am not accusing any one here," declared the master of the hall. "i only want to find out, if possible, who was guilty of this outrageous proceeding." it was found that two men with wagon loads of supplies for the school had visited the place during the evening, but neither of these men had gone any further into the building than the storeroom, and both had departed as soon as their errands were finished. outside of that, so far as the servants could remember, no outsiders had been on the premises. "and yet those footmarks on the window sill and the fire-escape look as if it had been done by an outsider," said captain dale to the head of the school. "it's just possible that it may have been an inside job and an outside job combined," ventured professor grawson. "what do you mean by that?" "somebody in the institution may be in collusion with some outsider--some professional thief. the inside person may have given the outsider a tip as to when the coast was clear and may even have stood on guard while the rooms were being looted." "that is possible, professor. but is there any one in the place that you suspect?" at this professor grawson shook his head. "no, sir. so far as i can imagine they are all thoroughly honest." "we might institute a general search of all the buildings," announced captain dale. "we can call all the cadets out on the campus and all the hired help into the mess room and request them to remain while the search is going on." "some of the hired help may object to that," came from professor watson. "if they did it would throw suspicion on them," answered colonel colby quickly. "i think the idea had better be carried out." all the persons in the school were assembled as mentioned, and then captain dale explained to the cadets what had been proposed and colonel colby did the same to the hired help. "they're certainly welcome to search our rooms," declared major jack promptly. "and mine, too," added a score of others. "i'm sure i haven't anything to conceal," put in lieutenant harkness. "and i haven't anything to conceal either," came from brassy bangs. "they can search my room all they please." he had announced the loss of a stickpin and six dollars and a quarter in cash. among the hired help there was more or less murmuring, one of the old cooks, an irish woman who had been in the place since it had been opened, shaking her head dubiously. "sure an' i didn't think yez would take me fer a thief, colonel colby," said bridget, gazing at the head of the school severely. "i'm not taking any one for a thief, mrs. mulligan," he answered. "but it would not be fair to search any of the rooms without searching all of them." "sure an' that's true fer yez," announced the cook, nodding her head in assent. "an' if that's the way ye're after lookin' at it, go ahead and search me room all ye please. only don't be disturbin' them trinkets i have from me dead mother." the search was made without delay, all of the teachers and the cadets who had lost their belongings taking part. it occupied the rest of the morning. every room was gone over carefully, and when anything in the way of jewelry or other such articles as had been reported missing were discovered all those who had suffered were asked to look on and see if they could identify anything. "gee! there's a fountain pen that belongs to me," cried one of the boys presently. and then he added in a crestfallen manner: "it's all right. i lent that to bill latimer a couple of weeks ago and forgot all about it." outside of this incident the search came to an end with nothing out of the ordinary happening. not an article that had been taken was discovered in any of the rooms occupied by the cadets or the hired help. nor was anything discovered in any of the other rooms or closets of the institution. "it certainly is puzzling," declared colonel colby, after the search had been called off. "it looks to me as if a thief had gotten away with everything he took." "either that or he has some hiding place which we as yet haven't unearthed," answered captain dale. after that the hired help were told they might go, and as soon as possible dinner was served to the cadets and the teachers. then, when the pupils were told to go to their afternoon classes, colonel colby and captain dale held a conference in the office and notified the local police authorities. "i hate to do it," said colonel colby. "but there seems to be no help for it. it will certainly give our institution a black eye." "but i do not see how anyone can hold you responsible for this affair," returned captain dale. "we are as watchful at this institution as they are anywhere." "of course i shall not permit our cadets to lose anything by this," went on the master of the school quickly. "i shall ask each of them to value carefully what they have lost, and then, if the things are not recovered before the end of the term, i will make the loss good." "that would be very nice on your part, colonel colby. and i think it would be a good investment too," added captain dale. "it will prove to the parents of the cadets that you consider yourself responsible while they are under your care." when the local authorities came to the school they went over the ground carefully with colonel colby and some of the others and asked innumerable questions. "we have a number of strangers stopping in town, mostly traveling salesmen," announced the chief of police. "i'll look 'em up, and also look up any tramps or any other suspicious characters that may be hanging around." and that for the time being was all he could say. soon he and his men departed. that evening jack found a letter in his box which had been mailed early that morning at haven point. it was from ruth. there was also a brief note to fred which had been sent by may. in her communication to the newly-elected major ruth congratulated him heartily on his success and said she hoped soon to see him in a parade at the head of the battalion. after that she wrote as follows about the sleighing party that had been called off: "i received an invitation to that party from lester bangs and may received an invitation from paul halliday. jennie mason, ida brierley and several of the other girls had invitations and they wanted us to go very much. but, of course, i did not want to go with such a fellow as bangs. then he came to me and started a report that all of you rovers were going to another party with some of the girls from the town, and that the party was to take place the same night as our party. of course, i did not want to say anything about it, because i realized that you could do as you pleased. but i told bangs positively that i would not go with him and may told the same thing to halliday. then both of them got quite ugly and accused you and your cousin of trying to spoil his outing. i told him you had had nothing to do with it, but he declared that you had and that you had better look out or you would get into hot water. so, jack, please look out for him and tell fred to look out for halliday and the others." there was more to the letter, and jack read the communication with great interest. he felt greatly relieved to think that ruth had not intended to accept brassy's invitation, and later on he dropped her a note thanking her for her kind congratulations and telling her that the report of another party in which the rovers and some girls from haven point were to participate had been faked up. the note received by fred was on lines similar to the communication sent to jack. he sent word to may clearing up the situation. "it was a mean thing for bangs and halliday to do," declared the newly-elected captain of company c. "we ought to pitch into them." "we can't afford to do it, fred, now that i'm a major and you're a captain," was jack's reply. "remember what colonel colby said: we must be models for the other cadets." "great scott! does that mean we can't stick up for our rights?" demanded the youngest rover indignantly. "not at all, fred. if those fellows say anything, give it back to them. and if they start to fight, defend yourself just as well as you are able." as mentioned before, snopper duke had been absent from the hall during the election for officers and the celebration which had followed. when he returned he looked much worried, and this worry was far from dispelled when he visited his room. "colonel colby, i, too, have been robbed!" he exclaimed, as he came rushing down to the office. "i've had a silver cardcase taken, and also a gold watch which has been in our family for several generations, a watch that belonged to my father and my grandfather." "it's too bad, professor duke," answered the master of the hall seriously. "may i ask what the articles were worth?" "i don't suppose the cardcase was worth more than a few dollars, but the watch was of gold, and i presume it must have cost fifty or sixty dollars. it was an heirloom and i treasured it highly." "i am doing my best to find out something about the robbery," said colonel colby. "but so far all my efforts have been in vain. i intend, if the articles are not recovered by the time the school session comes to an end, to pay for everything that has been stolen." and that was all the master of the hall could say. it must be admitted that both jack and fred felt quite proud when the first regular parade of the battalion took place that spring. the cousins had, of course, sent home word of the election and had received permission to purchase new uniforms. both looked spick and span as they marched out at the head of their respective commands. it was a clear, warm day, and colonel colby announced that the cadets could parade through haven point to clearwater hall and return if they so desired. "hurrah! that's the stuff!" cried fred. and so it was arranged, and one of the teachers telephoned over to the girls' academy, to let those at that institution know what they might expect. then one of the cadets telephoned to felix falstein, the owner of the haven point moving picture theater. "falstein always hangs out his flags for us," said this cadet. "and he'll do it this time, i'm sure." colby hall now boasted of a drum and fife corps of twelve pieces, and they made merry music as the battalion marched away in the direction of haven point. all but three or four of the cadets were in the best of spirits. "i think marching over to clearwater hall is punk," declared brassy bangs, with a snarl. "why can't they march some place worth while or just go around the town and let it go at that?" "i guess jack rover wants to show off before those girls," grumbled paul halliday. "i wouldn't go if i could get out of it," growled brassy. "oh, don't squeal," returned his crony quickly. "if you do they'll only laugh at us and make us go anyway." "attention there, bangs!" cried the captain of company b, the command to which brassy belonged. "no talking in the ranks!" and thereupon the cadets became silent. as had been anticipated, when the cadets reached haven point they found that felix falstein had outdone himself in the way of decorations. not only were several flags displayed across the front of his theater, but he had strung two big flags across the street, and between them placed a banner which he had had painted some time before and which read: welcome to colby hall "that's very nice of him," remarked jack, who was marching at the head of the procession with captain dale on horseback close beside him. "very nice, indeed, major rover," answered the military man. "i wonder if we can't come to a halt here and go through the manual of arms?" went on the newly-elected major. "certainly, if you wish to do so." "battalion halt!" called out jack, turning around and the three companies came to a stop. chapter xv baseball soon the three companies of the colby hall battalion were in a long line in front of the moving picture theater. at once a crowd began to gather until several hundred people were assembled. then the cadets were put through the manual of arms, after which followed some fancy evolutions in the street in front of the show house. "very good! very good, indeed!" shouted felix falstein, who was present. his face was beaming and he clapped his hands loudly, and, taking this hint, the crowd applauded with vigor. then the march through haven point was resumed and soon the cadets came in sight of clearwater hall. they had good reason to feel proud of what those at the girls' school had done in their honor. the big flag was flying from the flagstaff on the campus and other flags were displayed from the front of the building. in addition to this the classes had been dismissed for the time being and nearly all the girls were out at the front of the school, many carrying small flags which they waved vigorously as the cadets approached. "oh, don't they look grand!" cried mary. "superb!" added martha ecstatically. "i do believe jack has a brand new uniform," came from ruth, and then she began to cheer and all the girls joined in. the cadets had been cautioned to preserve true military discipline, and they did their best not to smile and make eyes at their admirers. but it was hard work, and many a face broke into a grin impossible to control. opposite the school the command came to a halt, and then miss garwood and a number of her teachers came forward to greet the cadets and those with them and invite them to the campus. here another drill was given, the girls applauding louder than ever as each movement was executed with a precision that would have done credit to the cadets at west point. "i'm sure that's as good as our fathers did at putnam hall," declared mary to her cousin. colonel colby had come along with captain dale, and during the drilling had been in earnest conversation with miss garwood. then came a surprise as the cadets were asked to march into the dining hall of the girls' school. here they found generous plates of cake and ice-cream, as well as glasses of refreshing lemonade, awaiting them. "gee, this is the best ever!" declared andy, smacking his lips. "yes. and what a surprise!" returned randy. "some day we'll have to return this compliment," came from jack. "my, wouldn't it be a lark to have the girls in our mess hall and treat them?" "i suppose we'd have to give 'em regular soldiers fare," was andy's dry comment. "salt pork and baked beans and things like that," and he grinned. "nothing doing!" declared fred. "we'll feed 'em toasted marshmallows and angel cake," and at this sally there was a laugh. following the refreshments the cadets were allowed fifteen minutes in which to walk around the school campus and mingle with the girl students. jack, of course, at once sought out ruth to tell her personally how much he appreciated the letter she had sent. "i hope, jack, you haven't had any more trouble with lester bangs," the girl said anxiously. "oh, he's growling around a little, but that's all," answered the young major. "i'm not paying any attention to him, ruth. i'm mighty glad that you didn't accept his invitation," and he gave her a warm glance. "it was awful for him to get up that report about another party," answered the girl. "of course i didn't think it was true--that is, not what he said about you and your cousins." "suppose we let the whole matter drop, ruth, and forget brassy bangs and his crowd." "i'm sure i'm willing to do that, jack." and then the girl added quickly: "you've had some terrible doings over at the hall, so i have been told." "you mean the robbery, i suppose?" "yes. have they discovered anything?" "not a thing. it certainly is a mystery." when the gathering of boys and girls broke up nearly every one was in the best of humor, the only exceptions being brassy bangs and paul halliday. these two unworthies had done their best to get on friendly terms with some of the girls, but had been snubbed in such a manner that it made them much crestfallen. "i'll be glad when we start back," grumbled brassy to his crony. "come on, let's take a walk outside," answered halliday, and thereupon the pair left the school grounds. "what about baseball this spring, jack?" questioned his sister just before the cadets were ready to start. "i'll be out of that this year. there is a new ruling that officers must step aside and let the other cadets have a chance on the baseball nine and the football eleven, as well as have a chance in the rowing and other contests. colonel colby has an idea that not enough cadets have filled these various places in the past. he wants to give every fellow a chance if possible." "well, you can't blame him for that." "not at all, martha. i'm quite content to step aside so far as baseball is concerned, and so is fred. we want to do our best as officers and also do our best with our studies. you know the folks at home are expecting us to make real records in the classrooms." "i know that only too well, jack. mary and i are working day and night on our lessons here. we're going to do our best to come out either at the head of our classes or very near to it." "how is ruth making out?" "she's doing very well. of course, she had a hard struggle to catch up on account of the time lost because of her eyesight." following the parade to clearwater hall the cadets settled down to the usual routine of drills and studies. but soon there came a call for aspirants to the baseball team, and then talk of the coming matches with columbus academy, hixley high, and longley academy filled the air. "gee! it makes my hands tingle to think about baseball," sighed fred, when talking the matter over with jack. "i feel the same way," answered the young major. "but remember, fred, we can't have everything in this world, and i'd rather be major of the school battalion--at least, for one term." "of course! and i'd rather be captain of company c." "gif tells me there are going to be a number of important changes on the nine," went on jack. "a lot of new fellows are clamoring to get on. they're going to have their try-outs in a day or two." what jack said was true, and the following saturday afternoon a somewhat patched-up first team played a scrub team. on the scrub, somewhat to the rovers' surprise, were brassy bangs and paul halliday. "they both claim to know a whole lot about the game," explained gif. "so i'm bound to give them a try-out." "why, i thought brassy bangs came from a ranch in the west?" "so he does. but he told me they frequently played baseball on the ranch and that some of the cowboys were really good players. he said one of the fellows had once played on one of the midwest leagues." "gee! there's no telling what an up-to-date cowboy will do these days," remarked andy. "playing baseball, going into the movies and into vaudeville, and i don't know what else!" "i guess he finds more money in the doing of those things than he does in the herding of cows," answered his twin. the game between the patched-up first nine and the scrub nine resulted in a tie, to . jack and his cousins watched the game and had to admit that brassy bangs and paul halliday did quite well--in fact, much better than had been expected. after that the practice was continued, gif, as head of the athletic association, trying out one player after another. then came the final selection of the regular club to represent colby hall, and brassy bangs was given the position of third baseman while paul halliday went to center field. "i think i ought to be allowed to pitch," grumbled brassy. "i'm sure i can send 'em in just as good as any of those other fellows." "you pitch a pretty swift ball, i admit," returned gif. "but your delivery is rather erratic. you put them over the catcher's head several times. if you did that when the bases were full, it would mean just so many runs coming in." and after that brassy said no more about pitching. the first game to be played was on the grounds of longley academy. the cadets journeyed to the place in carriages and automobiles and on bicycles, and were joined by quite a number of the girls from clearwater hall. "do you suppose tommy flanders will pitch?" questioned randy. "no. they tell me that last game we had over here was too much for flanders and he has given up the nine entirely. i think they'll put in that new left-hander that they tried at the end of that game," answered jack. and in this surmise he was correct. when the first man came to the bat it was easy to be seen that both nines were on their mettle. it was a colby hall player who had the stick, and the left-handed twirler for longley academy struck him out in one-two-three order. "hurrah! that's the way to do it!" yelled one of the longley students. "now make it three straight!" "gee! that was nevins, one of our best batters," whispered randy to his cousin mary. "never mind that, colby hall!" shouted jack. "you've got to encourage 'em a little bit!" and at this there was a smile. the next man to the bat got a hit and on a wild pitch managed to reach third. but that was all that could be done, and colby hall retired without scoring. during their half of the inning longley academy managed to make two runs, and this was increased by two more at the end of the fourth inning. in the meantime the best colby hall could do was to get two hits and bring in one run. "hurrah! four to one in favor of longley!" shouted one of the students from that academy. "you've got to tighten up, boys!" called out fred to the members of his school team. "tighten up and show 'em what you can do!" the fifth inning passed without a run, and so did the sixth. then in the seventh colby hall managed to pass the home plate twice while longley academy scored once. this made the score, longley academy , colby hall . "oh, jack, it looks as if colby hall might be beaten!" said ruth anxiously. "i think they might have a better fellow than brassy bangs on third," put in fred. "he could have put out that last runner with ease. that run wasn't deserved at all." and a number of others who heard this remark agreed with the young captain of company c. in the eighth inning colby hall made one more run. then longley academy came once more to the bat, and with two men on first and second and two out, the batsman knocked a high fly to center field. "scoop it in, halliday!" "it's a dead easy fly!" "they won't get any runs this inning!" so the shouts from the colby hall boys went on. in the meanwhile paul halliday stepped back a few paces and got directly under the descending sphere. down it came, striking his finger tips and bouncing over his head. "he's muffed it! he's muffed it!" yelled several of the longley academy contingent gleefully. "run, boys, run!" and how the runners did streak from base to base! and before the ball could be recovered by the bewildered halliday the three runs had been scored. chapter xvi spouter is cornered "hurrah for longley!" "that's the way to do it! that makes the score eight to four!" "my, what a muff that was! that center fielder is a regular butter-fingers!" "soak it to 'em good and plenty, longley! only two men out!" thus the hubbub on the part of the students of longley academy continued while the cadets of colby hall had little to say. there were one or two cries to take halliday out of the field, but these were quickly hushed. "anybody might muff a ball," declared jack. "it's too bad, but probably it couldn't be helped." the very next player to the bat knocked a liner between first and second and got to second on a fumble by the first baseman. then the next player, after having two strikes called on him, sent a low one down to center field. "go for it, halliday! get it!" yelled the cadets eagerly. halliday ran for the ball, but was only able to get it on the first bounce. then, as he saw the batsman rounding first for second, he threw the ball wildly. "run, newcomb, run!" "there goes the ball for the grandstand! hurry up, markle, and make it a homer!" the ball had sailed over the head of the runner and landed at least ten feet away from the home plate. the catcher made a dive for it while the pitcher came to the plate to stop the runners. but it was too late, and before the sphere could be sent in both runs had been scored. "zip! boom! two more runs for longley!" "that's the way to do it, boys! let's snow 'em under!" "take halliday out!" was the angry cry of fully a dozen cadets. "take him out! he has no business on the team!" and thereupon amid shouts of derision paul halliday was compelled to quit the field and one of the substitutes went to take his place. "it wasn't my fault! i stepped in a hole," growled halliday when he came to the bench. he made a show of limping badly. "i almost sprained my ankle." "well, your two errors have been very costly," answered gif coldly. after that the pitcher for colby hall tightened up, and the next man up was put out on strikes and the side retired. with the score to against them, colby hall did what it could to redeem itself during the last inning. they made one run, followed by two outs and two hits which brought a man on first and another on third. then brassy bangs came to the bat. "now, brassy, here's your chance!" "knock it over the back lots!" brassy set his teeth and swung the bat with a do-or-dare expression. then the first ball pitched came in an outcurve which he swung at in vain. "take your time!" called out gif. the next was an incurve, but brassy swung at it and missed again. "strike two!" "hit it, brassy! hit it!" "knock the cover off!" "take your time! wait until you get just what you want!" and thereupon brassy bangs did wait--until he had three strikes called upon him and was declared out. "that ends the game!" "and the score is ten to five in favor of longley academy!" "hurrah! that's the time we showed colby hall what we can do!" the longley academy boys went wild in their enthusiasm and danced around the field like so many indians. and they had good cause to be elated, for they remembered only too well the drubbing they had gotten at the hands of colby hall the season before when jack and fred had made such records for themselves. the colby hall cadets could say nothing against the record made by the longley nine. they had put up a stiff fight from the start and deserved their laurels. "our defeat was largely due to halliday and bangs," declared spouter. "between them they let in at least five runs." "that's exactly the truth," answered dan soppinger. "if i were gif i'd read the riot act to those two players." "oh, i don't think i'd be too hard on them," came from jack. "anybody might have muffed that ball down in center field, and any of us might have struck out as brassy did." "but both of them made several other errors," put in walt baxter. on the way back to colby hall the students were free in their comments on the game, and there were many uncomplimentary things said about brassy and halliday. those two players tried to excuse themselves as best they could; but a baseball player who has not made good seldom gets any sympathy. "i'll give you both another chance in the game with hixley high," said gif at last, in talking the matter over with the two players. "but if you make a single error it will cost you your positions." the game with hixley high came off on the following saturday and was won by the narrow score of to . in the second inning halliday made another wild throw from center to second, and brassy bangs made a bad fumble in the fourth inning, and as a consequence both were retired and substitutes put in their places. "it was certainly a narrow squeak," declared fred, when the game was over and the boys were preparing to celebrate that evening. "i believe if gif had kept brassy and halliday on the team we would have lost." "well, we may lose some other games even so," said jack. and he was right. out of a total of seven games played with the other schools of that vicinity that season colby hall won but four. "well, we can't win every year," declared randy. "and we're half a game to the good anyway, and that's something." "it's certainly better than being half a game behind," answered his twin. while these matters were going on colonel colby and captain dale had been doing everything possible with the aid of the local police, and also a private detective who had been called in, to solve the mystery concerning the robbery at the school. but all efforts seemed to be in vain. not a trace of the person or persons who had committed the crime could be found. it was a great mystery. "i think i'll have to settle with all of the boys and with professor duke," said colonel colby to his head assistant. "and there i suppose the matter will have to be dropped." later on he took up the various claims and paid each one of them in cash. "i am very thankful to you for this, colonel colby," declared snopper duke, when he received his money. "it will come in quite handy, i assure you. and yet i am much distressed over that watch which once belonged to my grandfather." "well, i hope it is brought to light some day, professor," answered the master of the hall. "and if it is then you can pay me back for it," and he smiled faintly. in those days a number of the cadets noticed that snopper duke seemed to be much preoccupied. he paid hardly any attention to what his pupils were doing and was so absent-minded that often he answered the simplest questions in the most ridiculous manner. "he's certainly got something on his mind," was fred's comment. "i must say i'd like to know what it can be." "maybe we'll never know," answered jack. "but because of what colonel colby said i'm certainly going to be careful how i treat him. he may have more of a load on his mind and heart than any of us imagine." it now lacked but ten days to the end of the term, and the boys were busy finishing up with the examinations in the various classes and also in writing the final essays to be handed in. all had worked hard to make a showing. "just think! only ten days more!" exclaimed andy, throwing a grammar across his room at randy. "doesn't it make you feel fine?" "it sure does!" answered his twin, catching the book and sending it back so quickly that his brother was hit in the stomach. "and that puts me in mind, andy. why not get at spouter and make him tell us what he's got in mind about our vacation this summer?" "let's do it! come on! we'll get fred and jack and gif and go and pound it out of him." all alive with their scheme, the twins burst in upon the other rovers while they were busy writing their essays and broached the subject. the others agreed, and fred ran off to get gif. then the whole crowd rounded up spouter, and grabbing him by the arms fairly forced him along the corridor and into the rover boys' sitting room. "now, spouter, you've got to tell us!" declared randy. "no more secrets!" "oh, gee! is that it?" was spouter's reply. "i thought you wanted to borrow a nickel from me, or something like that," and he smiled feebly. "come on now, spouter! give it to us straight," demanded fred. "no more sawing and fiddling," put in andy. "we want straight goods. where are we going this summer?" "you're going with me," answered spouter, with a grin. "so you've told us about three thousand times. but where are we going?" "you're going home first." "pound him, fellows, pound him! throw him down and pound him good!" and thereupon the whole crowd pounced upon the luckless schemer. "hold on! hold on! let me up!" spluttered spouter. "let me up, and i'll tell you everything!" "honest?" demanded andy. "if you fool us this time we'll drag you to the bathroom and duck you." "cross my heart!" panted spouter. "now let me up!" the others allowed him to arise and then forced him into an easy chair in the corner and all stood over him menacingly. "you are going to spend your vacation at a new place which was purchased by my dad only a few months ago," answered spouter. "and what place is that?" came in a chorus from his chums. "big horn ranch." chapter xvii good-bye to school "what do you know about that!" "big horn ranch! that sounds interesting!" "what sort of a place is it, spouter?" "i suppose you must have thousands of heads of cattle?" "how about horses, spouter? we'll have enough mounts, sha'n't we?" "any good hunting or fishing?" "stop! stop! what are you trying to do?" spluttered spouter. "trying to drown me in a flood of questions? why don't you ask one thing at a time?" "well, where is the ranch and how are we going to get to it?" questioned jack. "and how big is it?" put in fred. and then came another flood of questions until poor spouter placed his hands to his ears in dismay. "i can't answer everything at once," he said finally. "so you'd better let me tell what i know in my own way. big horn ranch is located out in montana, and it comprises a thousand acres or more--how large i don't exactly know. to get there you journey by rail to a little jumping-off place called four rocks, and then you have to ride or drive to the ranch, which is four or five miles away. the nearest town of any size is arrow junction, which is quite a distance off." "how is it your dad bought a place like that?" broke in gif. "i didn't know he was interested in ranches." "oh, he has always liked outdoor life--you all know that. and this ranch came to him in rather an unexpected way. there were two brothers who were interested in a speculation in which my dad was interested, too. my dad advanced a lot of money to these brothers, and as they couldn't pay up in cash they asked him if he wouldn't take the ranch off their hands by allowing them an additional thirty thousand dollars. so he made a trip out there in company with another man who knew all about ranches and then he concluded to buy, and did so. so now we own big horn ranch, and the family expects to spend a large part of each summer there." "and your father said we could all go out there with you?" questioned randy. "yes. he told me to invite you four rovers and also gif. and that isn't all," went on spouter. "he's invited all your folks out there, too. he's going to make a great big house-party of it!" "our folks!" exclaimed fred. "what do you mean? they can't all go. uncle dick is just back from texas, and somebody has got to look after the offices in new york." "it has been arranged that your father and mother are to go along first, fred, and later on randy and andy's father and mother are to come out. then, when they go back to new york, it's possible that jack's folks will come west before the season is over. gif's folks have not decided on what they can do, but will let us know in a week or two." "and what about the girls?" questioned fred quickly. "of course, they are to go along, too. martha will go with mary and her folks, and may will, of course, be with my mother, and she is going to try to get ruth to go with her." "but ruth said she was going somewhere else," remarked jack, and his face showed disappointment. "i know that, jack. but i think may can get the stevensons to allow her to go. anyway, all the girls are going to try." after that the rovers and gif asked many other questions concerning big horn ranch and spouter told them all he could. "of course, i know only what dad has written and what was said about the ranch before we purchased it. i suppose i'll learn a lot more as soon as i go home, and then i'll let you know about it." "gee! we ought to have the best time ever," exclaimed andy gleefully, as he caught spouter by the shoulders and commenced to dance him around the room. "it was certainly well worth waiting for, spouter," came from jack. "i don't see how you managed to keep it a secret," put in randy. "i'd have been bustin' to tell it every minute." "well, i had a job of it, believe me, with you fellows dinging at me all the time," was spouter's answer. "when do you suppose we can start?" questioned fred. "that, of course, will depend a good deal on you and your folks," answered spouter. "my folks are already out there, getting the ranch in readiness for visitors. i suppose you'll want to go home over the fourth of july, but maybe you'll be able to start west right after that." "i don't know what could hold us back." "is the ranch house big enough to accommodate such a large crowd?" questioned jack. "there are a lot of us, remember." "i think so. you see the ranch is really a combination of two ranches, the buildings of one ranch were located near the eastern boundary while the buildings of the other ranch were set equally close to the western boundary, and as a result the two sets of buildings are not very far apart. father and mother didn't know exactly what they were going to do. they said they would either divide the party between the two ranch houses or otherwise send all the hired help to one of the houses and keep our whole party at the other." "it would be nice if we could stick together," said randy. "oh, it won't make much difference, because, as i understand it, it's only a short walk from one set of buildings to the other." after this revelation from spouter it was difficult for the rover boys and gif to settle down once more to their essay writing and their examinations. however, all did their best, and when the school term came to an end each had made a creditable showing. "i'll be proud to take this card home and show it," said fred, as he examined the pasteboard which had been handed to him. out of a possible per cent. he had received per cent. jack had passed with per cent., randy with per cent., and andy with per cent. this last figure was the one also reached by gif. spouter, who was naturally a very studious person, had passed with the highest mark of the class-- per cent. "well, eighty-eight per cent. isn't as good as it might be, but it's a good deal better than lots of the fellows made," remarked andy. "and it's a long way from the failure mark--below seventy." of course the boys had already talked over the telephone to the girls, and then it leaked out that all of those at clearwater hall knew about big horn ranch and that ruth was almost certain that she could go with the rover girls and may. "if we all go together we had better charter a private car," remarked jack. "say, that would be something worth while!" put in fred, with satisfaction. "let's put it up to our folks!" two days before the boys were to leave for home, randy saw a messenger boy deliver a telegram to snopper duke. the professor read the brief communication and then randy saw him stagger up against a chair in the hallway as if about to fall. he rushed forward and caught the professor by the arm. "what is the trouble, professor?" he questioned kindly, for he could see that snopper duke was in deep distress. "i--i---- don't mind me, rover," stammered the teacher. "it's a little bad news, that's all. and coming on top of some other bad news i've received lately i can hardly stand it," and with these words snopper duke turned and went slowly upstairs to his room. half an hour later he was closeted with colonel colby and then drove away from the hall; and that was the last the colby hall cadets saw of the strange teacher during that term. "he's certainly got something on his mind," said randy, in telling the others of the incident. "and i must confess i'm growing really sorry for him." on the next day came another surprise for the rovers. all of them were out on the campus when they saw brassy bangs leap a side hedge and start toward the school. at the same time they saw a tall man wearing a slouch hat hurrying off in the opposite direction. "hello! there is that fellow brassy had trouble with in town," exclaimed randy. "just look at brassy!" whispered fred, after the youth had passed them and gone into the hall. "why, he's as pale as a ghost!" "it certainly is a mystery about brassy and that strange man," was jack's comment. "just as much of a mystery as about professor duke's doings." soon the boys were busy packing up, getting ready to leave. then came the usual jolly times just previous to saying good-bye to their fellow-cadets and the teachers. the students were to scatter in all directions and the majority of them expected to have a glorious time during the summer vacation. phil franklin was to go back to the oil fields, to visit his father. at the railroad station the rovers met mary and martha and also some of the other girls, and here many good-byes were said. "i hope you get a chance to get out to big horn ranch," said jack to ruth. "so do i, jack. but i haven't received permission to go yet. if i don't get there you must write to me." "i certainly will, ruth. and you must write also. but come out if you possibly can." the home-coming of the rovers was, as usual, made a gala event. the three mothers had come down to meet their children and there was a happy reunion at the grand central terminal, and then the three families drove off in their automobiles to their homes on riverside drive. a little later the fathers of the young folks came in from downtown, and that night there was a grand dinner spread for all in tom rover's house. "gosh, it's good to be home once more, mother!" cried andy, and hugged his parent from one side while his twin hugged her from the other. "and it's mighty good to think that we can all be together," came from jack. "it's so different from what it was when the war was going on." "oh, please don't speak of the war! i never want to hear of it again!" put in martha. "and to think we're all going out to big horn ranch!" burst out fred. "isn't that just the grandest ever?" chapter xviii on the way west "well, we're off for big horn ranch at last!" "it certainly is a grand prospect, eh, jack? we ought to have barrels of fun on the ranch." "yes, randy, it certainly ought to make a dandy vacation." "i'm fairly itching to get on horseback," put in andy. "what dandy rides we shall have!" "maybe we'll get a chance to break in a broncho," put in fred, with a grin. "don't you dare do such a thing, fred rover!" burst out his sister mary. "most likely the bronco would break your neck." "well, we won't bust any broncos until we get to the ranch," came with a smile from fred's father, who had followed the young people into the sleeping car at the grand central terminal. it was the day of their departure for the west, and the young folks were quivering with suppressed excitement. sam rover and his wife headed the party, which consisted of the four boys and the two girls. fourth of july had been spent rather quietly at home preparing for the trip. of course, andy and randy had had some fun, especially with fireworks in the evening, but otherwise the young folks had been too preoccupied with their arrangements for getting away to pay special attention to the national holiday. it had been arranged that only the rovers mentioned above should at first make the trip to the ranch, and gif and spouter were to meet them in chicago, where they would change cars for montana. tom rover and his wife were to come to the ranch two weeks later and bring with them may powell and ruth stevenson. later still it was barely possible that dick rover and his wife would come west. jack's idea of chartering a private car had fallen through because not all of the party to meet at big horn ranch were to go at the same time. but those now gathered had seats at one end of the sleeper along with a private compartment for mrs. rover and the two girls, so they were all comfortable. the boys were in the best of spirits; and for a while sam rover had his hands full making andy and randy behave. "i hope we strike a lot of lively cowboys, uncle sam," broke out andy. "perhaps you'll find some of the cowboys too lively," was the answer. jack and fred, as well as their sisters, were disappointed that may and ruth had not been able to accompany them, but they were glad to know that the others would follow later to the ranch. soon new york was left behind and the train was speeding along the hudson river on its way to albany. "just think! by this time to-morrow we'll be in chicago," remarked martha. "isn't it wonderful how you can cover such a distance?" "do you know, i almost wish we were going out there in an auto," returned fred. "that would be a trip worth taking." "especially if you had to put on all the extra tires along the way, fred," added andy, with a grin. "oh, well, i guess i could do that, too, if i had to," answered the youngest rover boy quickly. "but the roads from here to chicago are pretty good, they tell me, so i don't think we'd have many punctures or blow-outs." "such a trip would be dandy, only it might take more time than we'd care to spend on the way right now," remarked jack. "personally i want to get out to big horn ranch as soon as possible." "exactly my sentiments," came from randy. "me for the mountains and plains and a life in the open air!" "oh, for a life in the open air, under the skies so blue and fair!" sang out andy gayly. "gee, andy is bursting into poetry!" cried fred. "what's going to happen next?" "maybe he ate something that didn't agree with him," giggled mary. "you'd better bottle up that poetry stuff, andy," remarked jack. "remember we're going out to a ranch owned by songbird powell, and he was nicknamed songbird while at putnam hall because he was always bursting out into home-made poetry. maybe we'll get a surplus of it when we get out to the ranch." lunch was had in the dining car, and almost before the young folks realized it the train was rolling into albany. here an extra car was attached, and then they were off on the long journey through the mohawk valley to buffalo, cleveland, and the great city by the lakes. after the train had passed utica andy and randy, who found it hard to sit still, took a walk through the cars from end to end, thinking they might meet somebody they knew. they were gone so long that sam rover became a little worried over them. "i think i'll hunt them up," he said to his wife. "for all we know they may have gotten into some mischief." "more than likely they're into something," answered mrs. grace rover. "they're exactly like their father tom when it comes to stirring things up." sam rover was just leaving his seat when andy and randy came back to the car. their faces showed their excitement. "what do you think!" exclaimed randy, as he dropped into a seat. "we met that same fellow who was threatening brassy bangs at haven point." "was brassy with him?" questioned jack quickly. "no. but two other men were with him, and it's a tough crowd, believe me." "where are they?" questioned fred. "two cars behind. and from the way the three talked they must have gotten on at albany. the fellow brassy had something to do with is tough enough, but the other two men seem to be much worse. by their talk, they are cattle men, and i shouldn't be surprised if they have been cowboys." "and that isn't all!" added andy. "they spoke about going to arrow junction!" "arrow junction!" repeated fred. "why, that's the town that spouter said was nearest to big horn ranch!" "what were they going to do at arrow junction?" questioned jack. "they've got some sort of a deal on for handling horses and cattle. we couldn't make out exactly what it was," answered randy. "but they certainly are a tough bunch. it looks to me as if they might have been drinking." "did you hear them mention brassy?" asked fred. "no. but that fellow who met brassy at haven point, the chap called bud haddon, told the others he had struck a real snap in the east. and one of the others answered that he had noticed that bud was rather flush." "it's certainly a mystery what that fellow had to do with brassy," remarked jack. and then of a sudden his face became a study. a sudden thought had occurred to him, and it was such a horrible one that he was inclined to force it from his mind. and yet it came bobbing up time and again until fred, who was sitting beside his cousin, noticed that something was on his mind. "what are you thinking of, jack? ruth?" "no, fred. i was thinking of that fellow who met brassy bangs in haven point." "you're wondering, i suppose, why brassy let him have some money." "partly that and partly something else, fred. but it's so horrible i hate to think of it." "why, what do you mean, jack?" "well, if you must know, it just happened to cross my mind that that bud haddon was hanging around haven point and was seen around the school several times just when colby hall was robbed." as the young major uttered these words in a low tone of voice, fred stared at him in astonishment. "my gracious, jack, that's so!" he whispered. "isn't it queer we didn't think of it before? from what andy and randy tell of how that fellow treated brassy i wouldn't put it past him to be a bad one. but if he had anything to do with the robbery at the school, do you think brassy had, too?" "i don't know what to think, fred. brassy never struck me as that sort of a fellow. he's loud-mouthed and he's got a big opinion of himself, and all that, but i never put him down as being crooked." "neither did i. but you must remember one thing--that fellow was dinging at him for money. he said brassy must get it or there would be trouble." "yes, i'm remembering that, fred. i must confess it looks pretty bad. but i don't think we had better say anything until we know more about the men." "let's pump andy and randy all we can." fred's suggestion was followed out, and the four rover boys talked the matter over among themselves. the twins were as much surprised as fred had been when jack mentioned what was in his mind. "gee, that bud haddon may be the guilty one!" burst out randy. "why didn't we think of this before? colonel colby might have put a detective on his trail." "do you think we ought to send him a telegram or anything like that?" asked andy. "it wouldn't do much good. what would be better, i think, is for us to watch the man and see if we can find out more about him. if he is going to arrow junction we may have a chance of learning more about him out there. did he expect to stay at the junction?" "i think so--or at least in that vicinity. the whole crowd is bound for some ranch out there." "then if we learn anything of importance against the fellow we can have the local authorities make an investigation," said jack. "gosh! wouldn't it be queer if that fellow really had robbed colby hall and if brassy was mixed up in it?" remarked randy. "it would be terrible if brassy was guilty," answered jack. "it would just about ruin him forever." "come on, jack. suppose you and i walk back and see if we can locate the fellows," suggested fred. "they don't know us, so they won't be suspicious." "well, we might try it," was the young major's reply. and thereupon he and his cousin walked through the cars to the place where the twins said bud haddon and his two companions were seated. chapter xix in the saddle the two boys located the three men without any trouble. they were seated near the end of the car where there was a water cooler, and here the two lads stopped to fumble for a minute or two over the paper drinking cups and then to take their time getting a drink. "yes, we ought to make a lot of money on that deal, noxley," they heard bud haddon say. "that is, provided we mind what we're doin'." "oh, there'll be no trip-up this time," answered the man called noxley. "i've been wonderin' how many horses there would be that we could sell," put in the third man of the group. "i heard we could get at least twenty, jenks. of course, i can't tell exactly until i've looked over the ground." "well, twenty head of horses and two hundred head of cattle are not to be sneezed at," answered the man called jenks. "a fine piece of business, i'll say," and he laughed shrewdly. "how long do you expect to stay at arrow junction before you go out to bimbel's ranch?" questioned noxley. "not more 'n three or four days. i'm expectin' word from bimbel as soon as i reach the junction, and then i'll know just what he wants us to do." "one thing i want understood," went on jenks crossly. "this time i get all that's comin' to me--no holdin' back!" "and i want the same, remember that," put in noxley sourly. "you'll get your full share--no fear of that," said haddon reassuringly. "only remember, you've got to do your full share of the work, too. no shirkin' at the last minute!" "well, we don't want to be takin' too many chances," and jenks shook his uncombed head dubiously. "you've got to take chances in this game, jenks. you can't expect the hens to lay eggs right in your hands," and haddon chuckled at his little joke. after that the men talked about a good time they had had in albany the evening before. they said nothing further of what they expected to do in the west nor did haddon mention haven point or brassy bangs. "we might as well go back," whispered jack to fred, after they had remained as long at the water cooler as they dared. the men had glanced at them carelessly, but had evidently given them scant attention. when the two lads returned to the others they held a consultation, and then laid the whole case before fred's father. sam rover listened with interest, and his face became a study. "it is just possible that your guess may be correct and this fellow haddon may be guilty of robbing colby hall. but it would be sheer foolishness to accuse the fellow unless you had sufficient evidence against him. this talk about horses and cattle may be a perfectly legitimate affair. however, when we get to the ranch we can look into the matter further and find out what sort of place this bimbel's ranch is and what the men really intend to do while there. that may give us a better line on this bud haddon and the others." "i'm going to watch that crowd as long as they travel with us," said jack, and the other lads said they would do the same. a night was spent on the train, all the boys sleeping soundly, and in the middle of the forenoon they rolled into the great station at chicago. here the lads kept their eyes wide open and saw haddon and his two companions walk away, dresssuit-cases in hand. nor did they reappear when the rovers, an hour later, hurried for the train which was to take them further westward. evidently the three men were going to take some other train to montana. "here they are! we've been waiting for you folks!" came the cry, and spouter rushed up to the rovers, followed by gif. "ho for the glorious west!" put in gif. "aren't you fellows anxious to get there?" he questioned. "anxious doesn't express it!" answered andy. "why, all night long i was riding broncos and lassoing wild cattle!" and he grinned. sleeping-car accommodations had been reserved for all of the crowd, and they were soon making themselves at home. then, as the train sped westward, the rovers told their chums about bud haddon. "that certainly is interesting," said gif. "just the same, i can't think that brassy bangs is a thief. why, if you'll remember, he said he had been robbed himself!" "he might have said that just to throw dust in the eyes of the public," answered spouter. "to my mind it will certainly be a good thing to keep our eyes open for this fellow haddon." the trip to montana took the best part of three days, and every one in the party enjoyed the journey thoroughly. they often went out to the observation end of the train, there to view the endless panorama of prairies and mountains, forests and streams, as they sped swiftly past. the magnificent view impressed spouter as much as anybody. "it's sublime--stupendously sublime," he murmured over and over again. "the thoughts that well up in my bosom at such a sight as this are beyond the power of words to express. when i view these immense plains, these mountain tops fading away in the distance, these wild and weird torrents rushing over the rocks, and these trackless forests with often not a human abode in sight, i cannot but think----" "that there is room here for every man, woman and child in the city of new york and then some," finished andy. "gee, how can they stick in one or two miserable cubby-holes of rooms when we have all this land to draw on!" "that's what gets me," put in gif. "but they do it. and i'm told that a whole lot of 'em would rather die huddled together than live out here where neighbors are miles apart." the through train took them only as far as arrow junction. here they alighted and then boarded a little side line, running through the hills to a dozen small stations, including four rocks. "this isn't so nice," sighed martha, when all had piled into one of the two little cars which comprised the train. their baggage had been put in the other car, which was a combination baggage and smoking car. there were but a few other passengers in the car, including one fat woman with two small and exceedingly dirty children. there were also several cowboys, and a chinaman who looked as if he might be a cook. "i think dad has a chink at our ranch," said spouter. "anyway, he wrote he thought he'd hire one." they had telegraphed ahead, so that there might be some one to meet them when they arrived at four rocks. "it's certainly an odd name for a railroad station," remarked mrs. rover to her husband. "four rocks sounds substantial enough," he returned, with a smile. "is it much of a town?" "not likely to be any town at all. perhaps a little railroad station and possibly one store, which, of course, would also be the post-office." sam rover's idea of four rocks proved to be correct. situated near a ridge of rocks was a small railroad station with a telegraph office and baggage room attached, a water tower, and opposite to the station were two low buildings, one a general store and the other a place where there had once been a saloon and dance hall, but which was now closed up. "there's my dad now!" cried spouter excitedly, as he leaped off the train. and the next minute he was running towards an automobile in which sat his parent. "where is ma?" he demanded. "she remained at the house to see that everything was in readiness when you got there," answered songbird powell, as he shook hands with his son. close to the automobile stood a number of horses, all saddled. on one sat a bronzed cowboy, who grinned broadly at the boys and tipped his hat rather awkwardly to mrs. rover and the girls. "this is my foreman, joe jackson," said songbird powell. "joe, this is mr. and mrs. rover, and these are the rover boys and their sisters, and this is my son and another of his chums. i guess you'll get better acquainted a little later on," and he smiled broadly. "who's to ride on horseback?" questioned andy quickly, "we can't all get into that machine." "you boys can all ride with joe," answered spouter's father. "i thought you'd rather do that than anything else. the girls and the others can ride with me." "how do you know i don't want to ride on horseback, uncle john?" cried martha gayly. she often called this intimate chum of her father "uncle." "no, martha, you'd better ride with us now," put in mrs. rover hastily. "you can do your horseback riding later on." "oh, i was only fooling, aunt grace," the girl replied. "i'm just crazy to see big horn ranch, uncle john," came from mary. "well, i hope you'll like it," returned songbird powell. "i want every one of you to have the best times ever while you're here." his eyes glistened. "we ought to have a regular old-fashioned reunion." and then, unable to control himself, he broke out into a bit of his old-time doggerel. "i'm glad you're here. i hope you'll stay. i'll miss you much when you're away." "hurrah, songbird, that certainly sounds natural!" cried sam rover, slapping his old chum on the shoulder. "you'll have to give us more of that later on." "i haven't spent much time on verses the last few years, sam," answered songbird. "i've been too busy attending to business. but maybe i'll get back to it while loafing around the ranch," he added. "are any other people coming to the ranch?" "yes, one other person. and i think you'll be very much surprised to see him." "who is that?" "oh, you had better wait until he arrives," returned songbird powell, and began to grin as though the thought of what was coming pleased him. the older persons and the girls waited until all the boys were safely in the saddle, and then songbird powell started the automobile. "i'm leaving them in your care, joe," he called back to his foreman, as he moved along. "bring 'em to the ranch in safety." "trust me," called out the foreman promptly. "we'll be at the ranch almost as soon as you." "well, don't ride the horses to death," shouted back songbird. and then in a few minutes more the automobile disappeared in the distance. "the boys will certainly enjoy that horseback riding," said mary. "glad of it," answered songbird powell, and as the automobile rolled onward he murmured gaily: "an elephant sat on a bamboo tree and he was as happy as he could be. 'to travel,' said he, 'is awfully punk unless you remember to take your trunk!'" "oh, what a funny rhyme!" giggled martha. "i'll have to write that down in my scrap book," returned her cousin, and at this remark spouter's father looked real pleased. "hurrah for big horn ranch!" shouted randy, waving his cap. "come on if you're ready." "don't work your horses too hard at the start," cautioned joe jackson. "it's a good five miles to the ranch, and part of it is rather tough climbing." "if it's tough climbing how is the automobile going to get there?" questioned jack quickly. "oh, they'll go around by the river road. but that is eight miles longer. we'll take the hills." "then maybe we can get there first after all!" broke in fred. "well, we can try, anyhow," answered the foreman of the ranch. "do all of you boys know how to ride?" "sure we do!" "then forward it is!" and away rode the foreman with jack and spouter on either side of him and the others following close behind. chapter xx at big horn ranch the way lay along a flat stretch of prairie bordering the river, and then up into the hills. the brushwood in the immediate neighborhood was scanty, but in the distance they could see some scrub timber backed up by a stretch of forest. far to the westward they could see the distant mountains over which the sun was now setting. "come on, you fellows, come on! don't lag behind!" shouted spouter, and set off at a brisk pace along the well-defined trail leading to the ranch. joe jackson, having seen that all of them could ride well, was quite willing to let them set their own pace. "only look and see where you're going!" he shouted. "and remember at the split in the trail to take the one on the right." and then he allowed them to plunge on ahead, but kept his eyes on everything they were doing. [illustration: "off to the eastward you can see a bit of our range." rover boys at big horn ranch (page )] two miles from the station the boys found they had quite a climb, and here they were forced to slow down. a little later they reached the top of the first hill. "there off to the eastward you can see a bit of our range," said the ranch foreman, pointing with his finger. "and those cattle yonder are our cattle." by the time they reached the foot of the first hill the sun was setting beyond the mountains in the west and the long shadows were creeping across the trail and over the forest beyond. "this must be some dark trail at night," remarked jack. "dark as a tunnel," answered joe jackson. "you have to carry a lantern or a flashlight when you try to ride it after dark." "ever get held up?" questioned fred curiously. "nary a hold-up, lad," answered the foreman, with a grin. "we leave all that to the movie men." "did you ever have a moving picture company out here?" asked gif. "yes, we had one crowd out here last year. they stayed around about six weeks taking some sort of a drama, as they called it. it was funny," added the foreman, with a chuckle. "the leading lady was scared to death of horses, and yet she had to do a little riding. the man who was having the pictures taken wanted her to smile while she was cantering along. but that smile, believe me, wasn't anything to brag about. they ought to have brought along some leading lady who liked horses and knew all about 'em." "did they use any of your outfit?" "oh, they used a few of our cowboys in a round-up. they wanted me to go into some of the pictures, but i told 'em there was nothing doing--that i was here to manage the ranch and not make moving pictures." "how many men on the place?" asked randy. "we have six at present. but the boss is thinking of getting some more and increasing the herd." "did dad get his chinese cook?" questioned spouter. "yes. he's got a chink named hop lung; a pretty good sort of a chap, too." they crossed two more hills and then passed through a patch of tall timber. here there was a rough wagon road, and the foreman explained that it was used for hauling firewood to the ranch house and the bunkhouse. it was growing dark when the party on horseback approached the ranch. already lights were streaming from the windows and the automobile stood in front of the wide veranda which ran around two sides of the building. "they got here ahead of us," announced jack. "i thought they would," answered the foreman. "the river road is in pretty good shape just now, so i suppose the boss made fast time in driving over." "the trail to the ranch was rougher than i expected," put in andy. "if you tried to run a horse over it he would most likely break a leg and maybe you would break your neck." "i've known one of our boys to go over to the station inside of twenty minutes," returned the foreman. "but he only did it to catch a train and on a bet. i'd rather take my time and save my horseflesh." when they reached the ranch mrs. powell came out on the veranda to greet her son and his chums. she was a round-faced, motherly woman, and she immediately did all she could to make the young folks feel at home. "you must be thoroughly tired out from your long trip," said she. "so we will have supper right away, and then if any of you want to go to bed you can do so." "i can't say that i'm tired," answered jack. "but i suppose the girls are and maybe aunt grace is, too." the travelers were shown to some rooms and then told where they could wash up if they so desired. "supper will be ready in ten minutes," announced mrs. powell. "so don't take too much time in primping up," she added, with a smile to the girls. "remember, you are on a ranch now and you can dress exactly as you please." "i'm going to slip on a plain gingham right now," declared martha. their hand baggage had been brought along on the running-board of the touring car, and a little later one of the cowboys came in with their trunks, which had been brought over from the station in a wagon. in the meanwhile the crowd sat down to a somewhat elaborate supper which hop lung had prepared under mrs. powell's supervision. "he's a very good cook," the lady of the ranch confided to mrs. rover. "but he occasionally tries to turn out some very funny concoctions, so that i find it advisable to keep my eyes on him." "the cowboys are quite excited over the idea of having visitors here all summer," said songbird powell during the course of the meal. "and two or three of them are especially excited over the fact that there are going to be so many girls and ladies. you see, the brothers who used to own these combined ranches weren't married, and all they had around the houses were an indian woman and a real old dutch woman who was almost entirely deaf. "joe jackson told me that one of the cowboys, a fellow named hank minno, was very bashful and had almost been on the point of giving up his job when he heard so many skirts were coming here." "oh, dear, i think i'd like to make the acquaintance of mr. hank," said martha mischievously. "perhaps if he saw you coming he'd run away," returned mary. "oh, i think he'll get over his bashfulness, and so will some of the others," answered songbird powell. "and let me tell you one thing--when i first got here i thought the men were a pretty rough crowd, but the more i get to know them, the more i'm satisfied they're all right at heart." "your foreman certainly seems to be a fine fellow," said jack. "we got well acquainted with him riding over." "he was well recommended by the former owners of the ranch, jack. and so far i've had no occasion to find any fault with him. he seems thoroughly trustworthy." the powells had given their visitors their choice of what to do concerning rooms. they could either crowd themselves a little and remain in the one ranch house, or otherwise the boys could take rooms in the other house, which was located about two hundred yards away. "if we went over to the other place we could have things all our own way," whispered andy to his brother and fred. "we could come and go to suit ourselves." "i think you boys had better stay in this house with us," said mrs. rover. "then we can keep an eye on you." "but there is no sense in all of us being crowded," returned sam rover. "and the boys are certainly old enough to take care of themselves. i think we had better let this matter rest until to-morrow, and then we can see how we can arrange it." "if the boys go over to the other ranch house i'll have joe jackson stay there with them," said songbird. "he'll know how to make them line up if anything goes wrong." several days later it was arranged for all the boys to take their belongings and settle down in the other ranch house so far as rooming was concerned. they were to have their meals in the main house. the foreman of the ranch went with them, taking a room in a corner where he could watch what was going on if it became necessary to do so. the boys took three connecting rooms, the twins occupying one, jack and fred another, and spouter and gif the third. on the second day at the ranch the boys began to feel quite at home. accompanied by the men, they had visited many points of interest and had become acquainted with all the cowboys, and also with hop lung, the cook. "wellee nice boys," remarked the cook, after they had been chatting with him and gone their way. "wellee nice boys. me cookee heap good dinner for 'em." and then he dived into his kitchen to start his preparations for the next meal. the boys found all the cowboys friendly. one of them could do some marvelous stunts with a lasso, and, urged by the foreman, gave an exhibition which interested the lads exceedingly. "why, that fellow is as good as anybody on the vaudeville stage," remarked fred. "i never dreamed so much could be done with a rope. just see how he whirled it around his body and between his legs and over his head!" "yes, and how he lassoed those three running horses all in a bunch," added fred. "that's what got me." "he ought to be in a wild west show," put in jack. "i'll have the boys give you an exhibition of shooting this evening," said the foreman, and he was as good as his word. some of the cowboys proved to be remarkable shots both with the rifle and the pistol. but here the boys, especially fred and jack, felt at home, and they, too, showed what they could do. "rattlesnakes and tarantulas!" exclaimed one of the cowboys, hank minno, the fellow who was supposed to be so bashful. "you kids sure kin shoot some. i s'pose you learned it at that there military school you've been goin' to." "yes," answered fred. "although we sometimes do a little practicing when we're at home. down in the long cellar of our house." "well, it's a good thing to know how to shoot, lad. sometimes it comes in mighty handy like," answered hank minno. chapter xxi hop lung and the fish by the end of the first week all of the boys felt thoroughly at home on big horn ranch. they had visited many points of interest, including the cowboys' bunkhouse and also the big range to the eastward, and they had likewise tramped over a number of the hills and tried their hand at fishing in the river. "it certainly is one dandy place," remarked jack to the others one day when they were coming up to the house from the river, each with a fair-sized string of fish to his credit. "we certainly never had such fishing as this in the east," answered gif, as he looked at his string admiringly. "just look at the size of 'em, will you?" "i wonder what hop lung will say when he sees them," remarked fred. "i've got a scheme!" cried andy. "let's have a little fun," and thereupon he unfolded to the others what he had in mind to do. they readily agreed to his suggestion, and all came up to the ranch house by a roundabout way. then spouter called out loudly: "hop lung! hop lung! come out here a minute!" a moment later the chinese cook appeared, a long soup ladle in on one hand and a carving knife in the other. "you callee me?" he queried. "yes," answered spouter. "i want you to come around to the front of the house and tell me what you know about this," and he motioned to the cook to follow him around to the big veranda. no sooner had their chum and the cook disappeared than the others ran into the kitchen. here at one side was a home-made kitchen cabinet, the top within a foot of the ceiling. "see if you can find the big bread-board," said randy. "i guess that will answer our purpose." "and here is the fishing line," added his twin. "we can run it from the ceiling over to the window and then outside." the line was run to the window as mentioned, then fastened to the ceiling back of the cabinet, and then to the back end of the board, which was placed flat on the top of the cabinet. on the board the boys placed the fish, laying them out in a row from front to back. one fish was placed on the pulled-out shelf of the lower part of the cabinet. "now then, clear out before hop lung catches us," said andy. and the lads lost no time in disappearing. in the meanwhile spouter had taken the chinese cook to the front of the ranch house and then to an out-of-the-way corner where there was a large spider's web. "hello, he's gone now!" exclaimed spouter, in a tone of disappointment. "do you see him anywhere, hop lung?" "hop lung see what?" demanded the puzzled cook. "why, that great big blue and gold spider with white feet!" "blue an' gol' spide?" queried hop lung. "see black spide." "oh, no, i don't mean the black spider. i mean that great big blue and gold spider about that long," and spouter showed up his two forefingers six inches apart. "noee see spide so long dat," answered the chinese cook, shaking his head doubtfully. "sploutel maybe see catpillal." "no, it wasn't a caterpillar. it was a spider. although i think it might have had wings." "um, wings! spide he all the samee buttelfly," announced hop lung. "no see him," and he got down on his hands and knees to peer up into the corner to make certain. spouter continued to engage his attention until he heard the boys coming around the corner of the house. then he turned to them as if in surprise. "hello! i thought you fellows were off fishing," he remarked. "so we were," answered gif calmly. "i got a nice little fish, hop lung. i laid him in the kitchen for you," remarked andy. "you git only one flish?" queried the cook in surprise. "well, maybe you can catch more," put in randy. "hop lung no go flishee. hop lung cookee," was the calm reply. and then the cook walked back to the rear of the ranch house. watching their chance, the boys stole back, some to the window where was located the string which had been attached to the board on the top of the cabinet, and others to another window from which they might see what would take place. hop lung had gone inside and picked up the fish left on the cabinet shelf. he looked it over, wiped off the shelf carefully, and then took up the fish and disappeared into the pantry with it. "now then, andy!" whispered his twin. and thereupon andy gave the string in his hand two or three little jerks. from the board on the top of the cabinet a fish fell down to the shelf below. it had hardly fallen in place when hop lung came from the pantry. he looked to see how matters were going on the stove, and then turned again to the cabinet. a queer look came over his face when he saw the fish lying in the same place that the first had occupied. he looked toward the door to find no one there. "him funny," he murmured in his pidgin-english. "him vellee funny." then he took up the second fish and walked into the pantry with it. no sooner had he done this than andy, doing his best to control his laughter, jiggled the string again. this time, as luck would have it, two fish came down, to light side by side on the cabinet shelf. again hop lung entered the kitchen and again he looked at what was cooking on the stove. he stirred the mass in one of the pots carefully, and then came back to his cabinet to get some seasoning. when he saw the two fish lying there his eyes nearly started out of his head. he jabbered something in his native tongue and then looked around wildly, first to one side of the kitchen and then the other. then he looked toward the door leading to the dining room and then he came to the door leading to the yard. "duck!" was all andy said, and he and the others lost no time in getting out of sight. hop lung looked carefully around the yard and then came slowly back into the kitchen. he walked again to the stove to see that nothing was burning, and finally came back to the cabinet and picked up the two fish gingerly. meanwhile, the boys tiptoed their way back to their original positions at the windows. "he'll begin to think the cabinet is haunted," whispered jack. "either that, or else he'll think he's bewitched," answered gif. and both were about right, for the poor chinaman looked all around the cabinet and even behind and under it, and then he looked under the table and the chairs. finally, still bewildered, he walked into the pantry with the fish, which he carried before him at arm's length, as if afraid it might bite him. "better give him a shower now, andy," whispered his brother, and thereupon andy gave the string a strong pull which sent all the remaining fish tumbling down on the cabinet and the floor. the noise reached hop lung in the pantry, and he came forth on a run. when he saw the quantity of fish that had appeared so miraculously he was nearly dumbfounded. with eyes and mouth wide open and hands up-raised he uttered a sudden yell of fright and dove through the doorway leading to the dining room and the living room beyond. in the living room mrs. rover and mrs. powell were sitting doing some sewing. the sudden appearance of the chinaman caused them to look up in astonishment. "what is the matter, hop lung?" demanded mrs. powell, as she sprang to her feet. "flishee! flishee!" screamed the cook. "kitchen full flishee! hop lung no knowee where flishee come! one flishee--two flishee--two flishee more--whole blame kitchen flishee!" spluttered the cook, his eyes rolling from one side to the other. "gracious me! is the man crazy?" asked mrs. rover, rising. "what does he mean by 'flishee?'" "flishee! flishee!" repeated hop lung. "no flishee--all flishee!" "i can't imagine what he's driving at," remarked mrs. powell. "where is the trouble, hop lung? in the kitchen?" "les, miz plowell. kitchen all flishee!" without ado the lady of the ranch marched into the kitchen, followed by mrs. rover. all the ladies could see were the freshly-caught fish resting on the cabinet shelf and the floor. "i don't see anything the matter here except that some of your fish are on the floor," remarked mrs. powell calmly. "you had better pick them up and wash them off." "did the boys catch those fish?" asked mrs. rover. "they said they were going fishing a couple of hours ago." "boys clatchee one flishee," announced hop lung. then a sudden idea entered his head, and he made a quick leap to the yard door. he was just in time to see the boys trying to retreat, all laughing merrily. "you foolee hop lung! you foolee hop lung!" he shrieked wildly, and of a sudden came back into the kitchen, scooped up several of the fish, and ran outside again. wildly he threw one fish after another at the lads. "hop lung, stop that!" commanded mrs. powell sternly. "those fish are too good to throw away!" "bloys fool hop lung," was the reply. "one flishee--two flishee--four flishee--all whole lot flishee," he continued, trying his best to explain. and then by pantomime he showed how he had found the first of the fish and placed them in the pantry. "it's nothing more than some of their tricks, hop lung," said mrs. powell. "they had no right to play such tricks, and i'll call them to account for it. but you had better pick up the fish which you threw outside. they're too good to be thrown away." "hop lung flix bloys, play flishee tlick," answered the celestial. and then a little later he set about preparing supper. the boys did not think it wise to return to the house just then, and so wandered off to the stable where the ranch horses were kept. "it was certainly a rich joke," remarked fred, with a chuckle. "i'll bet hop lung will have it in for us for that," returned randy. and hop lung did have it in for them, as they were to learn in the near future. chapter xxii a horse and a snake during the days which followed at big horn ranch the rover boys and their chums asked joe jackson if he knew bud haddon and the other men who had been with him. "yes, i know haddon," answered the foreman of the ranch. "he used to work for bimbel on a ranch on the other side of the river; but i think he left there several months ago." "well, if he did, i rather think he's going back," answered jack. "can you tell us anything about him?" "oh, i imagine he's as good as the average fellow around bimbel's place," answered joe jackson. "you see, none of our crowd have much to do with that outfit. bimbel is a hard fellow to get along with, and some of the men working for his outfit have rather shady characters." the foreman looked at the boys curiously. "how do you happen to know the fellow?" the lads had come to like the foreman very much and felt that they could trust him thoroughly, so they told their story in detail, to which jackson listened with interest. "looks to me as if haddon was trying to blackmail that kid bangs," was his comment. "that is unless there was something in the talk about that barn being burned with the horses. it's just possible that fellow bangs had something to do with it and haddon was making him pay for keeping his mouth shut." "do you know anybody by the name of john calder whose barn burned down?" "no. that couldn't have been anywhere around here or i certainly would have heard about it. but there's one thing i do know," added the foreman suddenly. "there's a man named jarley bangs who owns a ranch on the other side of the river--a small place next to the one run by bimbel." "jarley bangs!" exclaimed fred. "do you suppose it could be brassy bangs' father?" "i don't think so," answered gif. "i believe bangs' folks live in wyoming." "but this bangs may be some relative of his," put in spouter. the matter was talked over a while longer, but the boys could learn little further from the foreman. "i'll tell you what i'll do," said joe jackson at last. "i'll put it up to some of the cowboys. they may know more about bimbel and his outfit and about jarley bangs than i do. bangs has a reputation for being a very queer and miserly man, but that's about all i can say of him." the boys, and even the girls, spent quite a little of their time in the saddle. both mary and martha had learned to ride while at home, using the bridle path in central park, so they felt at home when galloping over the plains. "this outing is going to do mary a world of good," confided mrs. rover to mrs. powell. "she has always been so timid." the river in which the boys went fishing and also bathing was a broad, shallow stream which could be forded in many places with ease. so far, however, the lads had remained on their side of the watercourse. but one day jack proposed that they go off on horseback and do a little exploring on the other side. "we might ride past the bimbel place, and also the one jarley bangs owns," said he. "who knows but what we may catch sight of bud haddon and his crowd." "we don't want to get into any trouble with those fellows," put in fred quickly. "oh, they can't touch us!" exclaimed andy. "they don't even know us. and we've as much right to use the trails around here as anybody--the land isn't fenced in." "yes, but you know what jackson said," went on fred. "he said the bimbel outfit wasn't a very nice one and that bangs was very miserly and peculiar. that sounds as if both places were good ones to steer clear of." "oh, come on! let's go anyhow," put in spouter. "i'm anxious to know what sort of neighbors we have. they can't find any fault with us for coming over when they find out that my father owns this ranch." the boys talked this matter over several times, and the next day obtained permission to take the horses and go off for a day's outing along the river. they were to take their lunch with them, and did not expect to come back until evening. "i wish we could go along," sighed martha. "we'll take you along next time, martha," answered her brother. "this time i'm afraid the ride will be a little too long for you." "never mind, martha and i will take a little ride of our own," declared mary. "we can go up to the edge of the woods and pick some wild flowers." "let's do it!" answered her cousin quickly. "one of the cowboys tells me there are all sorts of wild flowers up there near one of the springs." hop lung was told to prepare a lunch which the boys might take along with them, and set to work immediately. as he got the things ready the celestial had a faraway look in his eyes and once or twice he stuck out his tongue suggestively. "one flishee--two flishee--lot flishee," he murmured to himself. "hop lung fixee boys," and he smiled in his own peculiar way. the day dawned bright and clear, and immediately after breakfast the boys leaped into the saddle and with good-natured shouts swung the sombreros they were wearing, and started off on their ride. each had equipped himself with a pistol, although they expected to do no shooting, and several carried small saddlebags containing their food and drink, the latter placed in a couple of thermos bottles. they also carried feed for the horses. "whoop-la!" shouted andy gaily. "come on, fellows! let's put distance between ourselves and the ranch." "better take it a little easy at the start, andy," remonstrated gif. "remember we expect to cover quite a few miles, and we don't want to wear out the horses at the start." "we'll let spouter set the pace," announced jack, for he had not forgotten that they were all guests of the lad mentioned. they had questioned the foreman regarding the lay of the land, and he had drawn up a rough map for them which jack carried. inside of half an hour they reached the fording place he had mentioned, and there crossed the stream, coming out on the side of a small hill. "i wonder if we'll come across any wild animals," remarked fred, as they pushed along a well-defined trail leading to the top of the hill and through a small patch of scrub timber further westward. "from what joe jackson said, i don't think there's very much left in this immediate vicinity," answered spouter. "you see, the cowboys have scared most of the animals away. of course, they occasionally come across a bobcat or a mountain lion, and then we might come across a wolf or a fox or some jackrabbits, or even a bear." "well, please don't let 'em come at us in a bunch!" cried randy, with a grin. "one at a time, please." "it'll be our luck not to see a thing worth shooting," declared fred. "i wouldn't give five cents for our chances of bringing down anything." fred had scarcely spoken when the horse gif was riding shied suddenly to one side, throwing gif into some low bushes. then the horse gave a snort and leaped ahead on the trail, not stopping until he had covered a hundred yards or more. "hello! what's the trouble?" exclaimed jack, bringing his own steed to a halt. "are you hurt, gif?" "no. i'm all right. but what startled that horse?" demanded the other lad, as he scrambled to his feet. then he gave a sudden yell. "it's a snake! look out!" all looked in the direction pointed out by gif, and there saw a black object wriggling away through the brushwood. as quickly as they could jack and spouter, who were close by, pulled out their pistols and fired at the snake. they saw the reptile rise up in the air, turning and twisting, and then disappear from sight between the rocks. "what's up? what are you shooting at?" cried fred, galloping to the spot. "a snake. he scared gif's horse and threw gif into the bushes." "where is he?" "i guess he got away, although i think we wounded him," answered jack. "it's funny how that horse shied," said spouter. "maybe he stepped right on the snake." "that might be," put in fred. "maybe the snake was sunning himself and didn't notice our approach until the horse stepped on him. then he switched around, and that must have started the horse off. i wonder if we can catch him." "i think so," answered spouter. "gosh! i'm glad no one was bit. that snake looked to be of pretty good size." while spouter and jack hurried forward to capture the runaway horse, gif was assisted to the back of the steed randy rode. "i'm glad i didn't go out on my head on the rocks," remarked gif, as the boys went forward. "i might have broken my neck." "yes, you picked out just the right place to fall into," answered andy. "i didn't pick it out. i went where i was sent," returned the other lad calmly. "after this i'm going to keep my eyes peeled for more snakes." "i think we had better all do that," said fred. "gee! i'd forgotten all about those pests." when they reached the runaway horse they found him still somewhat skittish. but he was soon calmed down, and then gif remounted him, and they set off along the trail as before. "well, we didn't exactly meet a wild animal," remarked randy. "but we met something just as bad." presently the boys came to a spot where the river wound around the hill, and beyond this was a broad stretch of plains, apparently many miles in extent. far to the southward they could see some tall timber. "the bimbel ranch must be somewhere in this vicinity," declared jack. "yes, and the bangs place can't be so very far off," returned fred. but distances in the open air are deceiving, and the boys rode along over the plains for the best part of an hour before they reached a spot where the trail branched in several directions. here they came to a halt, wondering which way to turn next. "it's too bad they don't put up a few signboards out here," grumbled randy. "how is a fellow going to know where he's heading?" "i suppose the natives know these trails just like we know the main streets of new york city," answered jack. "and that being so, they don't need any signboards." jack had consulted the rude map given to him by the ranch foreman, but this did not seem to have upon it the forks of the trail. "i suppose those cowboys would know at once which was the main trail and which were only side trails," said gif. the boys were still uncertain which way to turn when fred set up a cry of amazement. "here comes an auto, boys! what do you know about that?" "an auto!" several of them repeated. "where?" the youngest rover pointed with his finger, and there, to the astonishment of every one in the party, they beheld a small touring car coming across the plains at a speed of twelve or fifteen miles an hour. it was running in a curiously haphazard fashion. "what a way to run an automobile!" ejaculated randy. "maybe the driver is getting out of the way of holes," answered jack. and then he added quickly: "there isn't any driver!" completely mystified, the boys stared at the oncoming automobile. for a moment it seemed heading directly for them, but suddenly swerved and started off across the plains in another direction. "it is empty!" ejaculated andy. "it's running by itself!" chapter xxiii jarley bangs "what do you know about that!" "who ever heard of an automobile running around by itself?" "it's gotten away from somebody," came from jack. "just look at it skating over the ground!" "come on! let's stop the blamed thing!" shouted andy, and started off on horseback after the runaway car. "you'll have a sweet job catching that auto," declared his twin. nevertheless, he followed andy, and, not knowing what else to do, the others did the same. the automobile was of a cheap variety, and clattered noisily on its way, with one cylinder occasionally missing fire. it had been running in a snakelike course, but now it seemed to be making something of a circle. "by jinks! i think it's coming back here!" exclaimed fred suddenly. "it isn't running as fast as it was," declared spouter. "maybe it's going to stop." "i'm going to see if i can't get aboard!" cried jack, with sudden determination, and headed his horse behind the touring car, which was still moving at a fair rate of speed. once one of the front wheels went down in a hole, and then the car slued around and started off, heading almost for the boys. "look out!" "get out of the way there or you'll be run down!" wild cries rent the air, and the young horsemen scattered in every direction. but jack was watching his chance, and as the car slued around once more he managed to leap from his horse and clutch the side of the automobile. then he leaped into the car and turned off the power, and in a few seconds he brought the automobile to a standstill. "this is the queerest adventure i ever heard of," declared gif, when the brief excitement had come to an end. "who ever heard of meeting a runaway auto like this?" "i guess we can be thankful that we weren't run down," returned fred. "you took a big chance, jack, in jumping on board as you did." "oh, it wasn't such a risk," answered his cousin modestly. "i think the auto was getting ready to stop anyhow." "i wonder where the owner is?" questioned andy. "perhaps the auto struck a stone and threw him out!" exclaimed spouter suddenly. "he may be lying along the trail somewhere stunned or dead." "i guess the best thing we can do is to see if we can locate the owner," declared gif, after a pause. "come on, spouter. you get in the auto with me and we'll run it back in the direction it came from," said jack. "the other fellows can follow and bring our horses." "do you think you can run this car?" questioned spouter. "sure i can! it isn't much different from the cars i'm used to even though it's a cheap one," was the reply. spouter dismounted and was soon beside jack. the power was again turned on and the car moved on with many a little jerk and jangling of metal-ware. "it's next door to a bit of junk," remarked jack, as they moved forward along the trail at a rate of about fifteen miles an hour. "i think if a fellow tried to make real speed with it it would fall to pieces." "sounds to me as if it needed oiling," ventured spouter. "yes, it needs oiling, and new springs, and a new engine, and a new chassis and a few other things, and then it would be quite a good car," answered jack, with a grin. the two lads in the car had covered less than a mile, and the others were coming up behind them, when they saw a man running toward them and waving his arms wildly. "hi there! stop!" called out the man. "stop, i tell you! if you don't stop i'll have the law on you!" as soon as he saw the man jack slowed up and came to a standstill by the side of the fellow. he was a tall, lean man of about fifty, with a strangely wrinkled and sallow face and long, drooping, reddish mustache. he had a pair of greenish-brown eyes that seemed to bore the boys through and through as he gazed rather savagely at them. "what do you mean by running off with my car?" he demanded, as he shook his fist at the lads. "is this your car?" questioned jack. "you know well enough it's my car!" blustered the man. "and i demand to know what you mean by running away with it!" "we didn't run away with it," answered spouter. "yes, you did!" "we did not!" put in jack. "we found it back there on the plains running around all by itself." "what? you expect me to believe such a story as that?" exclaimed the tall man, glaring at them more ferociously than ever. "running around by itself! how could it be doing that? you took it from where i left it, up by the trees yonder!" and he pointed to a quantity of tall timber some distance away. by this time the other boys were coming up, bringing with them the two unused horses. the man gazed at them in surprise and also noted the two steeds that were not being used. "maybe you're telling the truth and maybe you ain't," went on the man sourly. "i'd like to git at the bottom of this." thereupon the boys related what had taken place and spouter mentioned the fact that his father was the owner of big horn ranch. "oh, then you're mr. powell's son, eh?" cried the man. "are you the boy who went to colby hall with my nephew, lester bangs?" "is lester your nephew?" queried spouter. and as the man nodded shortly, he added: "then you must be mr. jarley bangs?" and again the man nodded. "i think you ought to thank our chum here, jack rover, for bringing your car back to you, mr. bangs," remarked gif. "if he hadn't jumped from his horse into the car the machine might be racking itself to pieces out on the prairie now. it was doing all sorts of stunts when he jumped aboard and shut off the power." "i can't understand this nohow," grumbled jarley bangs. "if what you say is true, how in thunder did that car git started? i left it by the edge of the woods while i went in to look over some timber that we thought of gitting out this fall. all at once i heard the engine go off with a bang, and when i ran out of the woods to see what was doing the car was gone." "was any one with you?" questioned spouter. "no. i came out alone. lester wanted to come along, but i told him to stay at the ranch and do some work. he seems to think that all he's out here for is to play." "oh, then lester is staying with you, is he?" queried fred. "yes. his folks let him come up for a couple of months. then he's going back to his home in wyoming, and after that he's got to return to that military school. i think it's a fool notion to send him to that school. if i was his father i'd make him stay out here and go to work." "you don't suppose lester tried to start the car, do you?" questioned andy. "how could he if he was at the ranch? but wait a minute! he said something about going fishing in that brook that flows through the woods. maybe he did come up that way, after all." "does he know how to run the auto?" asked randy. "yes, he does. but i don't let him run it very often because he's so careless i'm afraid he'll ruin the machine--he bangs her over the rocks something awful. i ain't got no money to waste on a new car. this has got to do, even if it is kind of used up." "maybe brassy--i mean lester--came up and tried to start the car while the gears were in mesh," suggested jack; "and then when the car started to run away perhaps he got scared and ran away, too." "if he did anything like that he'll have an account to settle with me!" exclaimed jarley bangs, his eyes glowing with anger. "that boy is getting too fresh. i said he could come up here, thinking he'd do some work around the place and so earn the money that i promised him for his schooling. but evidently he thinks more of having a good time than he does of working. he is forever fooling around the car and wanting to run it; so i wouldn't put it past him to do what you suspect. as soon as i git home i'll ketch him and make him tell me the truth," continued jarley bangs, with a determined shake of his head. after that he questioned spouter concerning the ranch mr. powell had purchased and spoke of the men who had previously owned the place. "these city fellows think they kin come out here and make a fortune on a ranch," he growled. "but after they've owned a place a year or two they find it ain't so easy. a man has got to hustle like all git-out to make a living." "where is your ranch located?" asked fred. "our buildings are right behind that patch of timber," was the reply. "it's not so very much of a place, but it's good enough for me." "and where is the bimbel ranch?" questioned gif. "that's up to the northward, over the top of yonder hill. but you young fellows had better give bimbel a wide berth," went on jarley bangs, with a shake of his head. "why?" asked spouter. "he don't like no strangers hanging around, that's why. if a stranger comes up to his door bimbel always reaches for his gun. he had trouble years ago with some tramps, and he never got over it." after that jarley bangs had but little more to say. the boys had left the touring car, and now the man jumped inside, saw to it that everything was in order, and then asked spouter to crank up for him. "ain't no use to waste time here," he remarked. "i've got to git back to what i was doing. i'll tell lester i saw you, and if he wants to he kin come over to big horn ranch and visit--he ain't of much account around my place. and i'll git at the bottom of what happened to this auto, too, even if i have to lick it out of him." "i don't think lester will care to visit our ranch," answered spouter coldly. "well, i ain't got nothing to say about that one way or the other. now i'm off," and with a short nod of his head jarley bangs threw in the gears of his machine and rattled away, slowly gathering speed as he proceeded. "a kind, considerate man, not!" exclaimed andy in disgust. "how politely he thanked jack for returning his car," added spouter. "and the beautiful invitation we got to visit his place," put in randy. "i wonder if brassy really started that car on him?" questioned fred. "it might be," answered gif. and then he added: "gee, i'm sorry for brassy if he has to live with such an uncle as that! wouldn't you think he'd rather stay at home?" "perhaps it's a case of money," put in randy. "didn't you hear what mr. bangs said about paying for tuition at colby hall? brassy's folks may be quite poor, and they may be depending on this uncle for financial aid." chapter xxiv a new arrival after the disappearance of jarley bangs the rover boys and their chums continued their trip on horseback. "let's move over the hill in the direction of the bimbel ranch," suggested spouter. "i'd like to get a bird's-eye view of that outfit." "perhaps we had better not go too close," advised fred. "bimbel may be getting out a shotgun for us." "i guess it isn't as bad as all that, fred. those things might have happened years ago when the country was more sparsely settled and when there were more bad men around. i don't take much stock in what bangs said. probably he and bimbel have quarreled. he struck me as being a man who could get into a dispute very easily." "oh, i was only fooling," answered fred. "i wouldn't be afraid to ride right up to his door. that is, in the daytime. of course, if we did it at night he might become suspicious." "say, do you fellows know that it's five minutes to twelve?" questioned andy, after consulting his watch. "i move that we keep our eyes open for some place where we can take it easy and have lunch." "and i second the commotion," returned his brother, joking in a way their father had made familiar to them. the boys rode on for half an hour longer, and then reached the top of the hill they were ascending. here they could look a long distance in all directions. "some view, i'll say," declared jack, as he surveyed the panorama. "what a picture for an artist to paint!" and he pointed to the majestic mountains to the westward. "just look at the river--how it glistens and sparkles in the sunshine," burst out spouter. "see how it winds in and out like a silvery ribbon among the hills and brushwood and then comes out to cut the broad and fertile prairie in the far distance." "spouter, you'll have to write an essay about this when you get back to the hall," said fred, with a grin. "gee, don't mention school at a time like this!" burst out andy. "i want to forget all about studying until it's absolutely necessary to go back to it. and don't forget it's high time to eat," he added. they moved along slowly and presently selected a spot for their temporary camp. this was a short distance from the trail they had been following. it was at the edge of a patch of timber where they were sheltered from the rays of the sun which were now quite warm. "we'll be in the shade here, and yet just see the view we'll have," cried gif. "suits me," announced spouter promptly; and the others agreed that the spot was a first-rate location. it did not take the six chums long to give the horses their feed and then to empty the saddlebags and prepare their mid-day meal. they had brought along chicken as well as roast-beef sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, pickles, and a large cake, and also a bag of doughnuts which hop lung had learned to make from mrs. powell and of which the celestial was justly proud. they also had with them a thermos bottle of hot cocoa and another of coffee, all fixed ready to drink. "well, hop lung certainly spread himself for us," said jack, as he took up one of the fat chicken sandwiches and surveyed it with satisfaction. then he turned to the twins. "what are you grinning about?" he questioned quickly. "oh, i was only thinking about the trick we played on the chink," chuckled andy. "and i was thinking of the same thing," put in his twin. "it's a wonder he didn't try to get square with us for that," came from fred. "an american would be sure to try it." the long ride in the open air had made all of the boys hungry, and it was not long before they had disposed of a large part of the sandwiches, pickles and eggs, washing the meal down with cocoa and coffee and also with water from a regular water bottle spouter carried. "now i guess it's about time we passed around some of the cake," remarked jack, presently. "i think i'll start on a doughnut," answered gif. the cake was in a square tin and had been cut ready for use. in a few seconds all of the boys were munching away lustily. and then something happened! it was fred who was the first to notice that the piece of cake he was devouring had a peculiar puckery taste. he rolled some of the cake around in his mouth, and then suddenly ejected it, and just as he did this andy dropped the doughnut he was devouring. "oh my! what's the matter with that cake?" "say, this doughnut tastes like fire!" "gee, my mouth is burning up!" "give me some of that water, quick! my tongue is getting blistered!" "what do you suppose is in this cake, anyhow, and in the doughnuts?" demanded jack, as he, too, made a wry face and stopped eating. "gracious me! do you suppose hop lung put the wrong stuff in the cake and in the doughnuts?" demanded spouter anxiously. "oh, this is awful!" groaned gif. "i'm burning up inside!" and he put both hands on his stomach. "maybe we're poisoned!" suggested randy. he made a wild dive for the water bottle, and this was passed around from hand to hand, each lad drinking eagerly in an endeavor to wash the burning taste from his mouth and throat. "i know what's the matter," said jack, after the most of the excitement was over. "hop lung doctored the cake and the doughnuts to get square with us for the trick we played on him." "i wonder if that's so?" questioned andy soberly. "sure, it's so!" broke in gif. "that chink wasn't as slow as you thought, andy." "gosh, my mouth burns yet!" grumbled randy, taking a drink of cocoa. "that's the worst dose i ever chewed. what do you suppose he put in the cake?" "tasted to me like a combination of cayenne pepper, mustard, and a few things like that," answered jack. "then the whole cake and all the doughnuts must be no good." "that's too bad! and i had my heart set on a nice doughnut," answered spouter. "just the same, i can't blame hop lung." "well, anyway, let's be thankful the sandwiches are all right and so are the eggs," remarked fred. "maybe some of the sandwiches that are left are doctored," put in andy suspiciously. "no, they look all right," announced gif, after an inspection. "and he couldn't do much with the eggs while they were in their shells," he added. while he was speaking, and while some of the boys were still taking drinks of various kinds to clear their mouths and throats of that awful burning taste, spouter made an inspection of the paper bag containing the doughnuts. "hello! here's another little bag at the bottom of the big one," he cried. "let's see what it contains." he dumped out the doughnuts and drew forth the smaller bag. opening this, the lads found it contained six pieces of golden yellow pound cake, neatly wrapped in tissue paper. "gee! is that more of the doctored stuff?" questioned fred. "maybe. but i don't think so," answered spouter. "i think hop lung put this in for a peace offering, to be found after we had chewed on that other stuff." and in that surmise spouter proved correct. the pound cake was delicious, and, having sampled it with caution to find that it was all right, the boys ate it to the last crumb with great satisfaction. "we'd better dump all that other stuff away," said fred. "no use of carrying it if it isn't fit to eat." "maybe some of it is good," returned andy. "do you want to sample it and make sure?" questioned jack, with a grin. "not on your life! i wouldn't want that burning taste in my mouth again for a hundred dollars." the boys threw the highly-seasoned cake and the doughnuts away, repacked what was left of the other food, and then continued on their ride. the trail led through the patch of timber and then over some rather rough rocks and through some brushwood. among the rocks they found a spring where the water was clear and cold, and here they had a most refreshing drink and watered their horses. "it's queer this spring is away up here on the top of the hill," remarked spouter. "that water must flow underground from the mountains yonder." "what a lot of underground streams there must be!" returned fred. while moving along those in the lead had kept their eyes open for more snakes. but no reptiles appeared, for which they were thankful. "but i'm sorry we didn't see some sort of wild animals," said randy, in speaking of this. "i thought sure we'd see a bear or a deer or something like that." even birds seemed to be scarce in that vicinity, and the only sound that broke the stillness as they advanced was their own voices and the clatter of the horses' hoofs on the rocks. the trail was a well-defined one, and they could see that it had been used only a short while before. "half a dozen horsemen have been this way within the last few hours," declared gif. "most likely they were on their way to bimbel's ranch." "i wonder if that man haddon has gotten here yet," said jack. "more than likely," answered fred. "if you'll remember, those men didn't expect to stay in arrow junction very long." "i'd like to know more about that chap, and know exactly how he's mixed up with brassy bangs," went on the oldest of the rover boys. "i guess we'd all like to know that," put in randy. presently they came to a turn of the trail. here they could see across a wide stretch of prairie to where there was a collection of low buildings, seven or eight in number. to the rear of the buildings was a corral for horses. "it doesn't look much different from lots of other ranches," said fred. "do you want to go any closer to it?" questioned gif. the boys talked the matter over, and while andy and randy were rather curious to get a more intimate view of the place, the others decided that they would not ride any closer on this trip. "it's now nearly two o'clock," said spouter. "and if we want to go any distance up the river it will take us until sundown to get back home." they turned back, and an hour or so later reached the point where they had parted from jarley bangs. then they took a trail up the river and followed this until the sun, sinking over the western mountains, warned them that it was time for them to head for home. "say, i've got an idea," announced andy, when they came in sight of the ranch house. "don't let on to anybody about that doctored cake. if hop lung or anybody else mentions it, just act as if nothing unusual had happened. say the lunch was as good as any we ever had." "that's the idea!" returned his twin. "we'll keep that chink guessing." and it may be added here that the boys kept their word, and hop lung never knew how his little joke had terminated, although he felt sure in his own mind that they had received the full benefit of the trick he had played. the six boys were still some distance from the house when they saw a man come out on the veranda and wave his hand to them. at first they thought it might be sam rover. but then, of a sudden, jack let out a yell. "boys, what do you know about this! do you recognize that man?" "it's hans mueller!" ejaculated fred. "uncle hans!" "who would have thought he was coming to the ranch?" "hans mueller!" murmured andy. "i'll be glad to see him. he's as full of fun as a stray dog is of fleas!" hans mueller was a man who in his boyhood days had been a boon companion of the rover boys' fathers. when he had gone to putnam hall with the rovers he had spoken very broken english, and his improvement in speech had been slow and painful. but hans had prospered in a business way, and was now the sole proprietor of a chain of delicatessen stores in chicago. he was unmarried, and, having no family of his own, had insisted upon it that all of his young friends call him "uncle." "hello der, eferypody!" called out hans mueller cordially, as he came down from the veranda to greet them, his fat face beaming genially. "how are you, uncle hans?" cried jack, leaping to the ground and shaking hands. "this is certainly a surprise." "yes, songpird tol' me you wouldn't know i vas coming," was the answer. "how you been alreatty?" "fine as silk," answered andy gayly. and now all the boys clustered around to shake hands. "you're just the man we want here to help us enjoy our vacation," put in fred. "dot's nice, fred. i tink i vas going to haf a fine time alreatty. and i need him," went on hans mueller. "since i come from de war back from europe, where i fights for uncle sam, i work like a steam horse in mine delicatessen stores. but so soon like songpird says come out here and meet dem rovers and you udder friends, i say to my clerks, 'you got to run dem stores by yourselfes alreatty yet awhile. i go oud to pig horn ranch and git some fresh air mine lungs in.'" "you'll get the fresh air all right enough," announced spouter. "and we're mighty glad you're here," he added, and then led the way into the house. chapter xxv professor duke's secret the girls had already returned from the woods and met uncle hans, as they called him. "i got somet'ing by mine trunk in for you young ladies," said hans mueller, with a broad smile. and later on when his trunk arrived he presented each of them with a bottle of the highest grade of olives. he also had some olives for mrs. powell, for use on the table. "i import dem olives myself alreatty yet," he vouchsafed. "nopody by chicago has olives half so goot." "i knew you'd be surprised to see uncle hans here," declared songbird powell. "and i knew an outing on the ranch would do him a world of good. he has been confining himself too closely to business since he got back from the war." "it was grand of you, uncle hans, to fight for uncle sam," declared martha. "and vhy, i like to know?" demanded hans mueller. "since i come by der united states over i been just such a goot american like anypody." "that's the way to talk, uncle hans!" cried jack, and slapped him on the shoulder. the next day the young folks took great pleasure in showing hans mueller around the place. "he vas chust like a farm, only different," remarked the delicatessen man. "dot iss a nice lot of cows you got, songpird. i dink dos cows vould make apout a million pounds of frankfurters, not?" and at this remark there was a general laugh. a few days later jack noticed that songbird powell seemed to be worried over something. the owner of big horn ranch held an earnest consultation with joe jackson, and then the foreman of the ranch rode off in hot haste, accompanied by two of his cowboys. "what's the matter--is something wrong?" questioned jack of spouter. "four of our best horses are missing," answered spouter. "the men are not sure whether they strayed away or have been stolen. jackson and the fellows with him are going to ride along the river and see if they can find out." "didn't you say something about other horses being stolen before we got here?" "yes. but they didn't belong to my father. they belonged to the men who formerly owned this ranch. they left them here, but at their own risk." "were the animals now missing the horses we rode?" questioned fred. "no. they were the mounts used by jackson and his men. that is, three of the horses were. the other was that beautiful black my father occasionally rode." "you mean blackbird?" exclaimed randy. "yes." "why, i think blackbird is the finest horse on the ranch," declared gif. "he certainly is a splendid nag," answered spouter. "and my dad thinks a great deal of him." the horse in question was a three-year-old, shining black in color, with a peculiar diamond-shaped spot of white on his forehead and a similar spot on his chest. because of these spots some of the cowboys often referred to him as two-spot. "i suppose those horses are worth some money," remarked fred. "indeed they are!" declared spouter. "i heard my father say he wouldn't take four hundred dollars for blackbird. and the other animals must be worth at least a hundred and fifty dollars apiece. you know they always had pretty good horses on this ranch." "i certainly hope they get some trace of the horses," said jack. but this hope was not fulfilled. jackson and those with him came back disappointed, saying that they had found no trace of the animals. about a week later came another surprise. the young folks, including the girls, had gone off to the woods for the best part of the day, and when they returned, much to their astonishment, they saw seated in rocking chairs on the veranda ruth and may. "my goodness!" screamed mary. "ruth and may! glory hallelujah! how in the world did you get here?" "and you never let us know!" wailed martha, as she bounced up the steps to embrace her school chums. "we got started sooner than we expected," answered may. "did you come alone?" questioned jack, as he, too, came forward, his pleasure showing on his face. "no, we didn't come alone," answered ruth. "we came with mr. and mrs. rover. they are inside with the others." "my mother and dad!" burst out andy. "where are they?" and he raced into the house, followed by his twin. there followed a joyous reunion all around. everybody was happy to see everybody else, and for a while it seemed as if all were trying to talk at once. "we had a splendid trip over," declared mrs. nellie rover. "not a single hitch all along the way. tom had everything mapped out to the last detail." and she gave her husband an affectionate glance. "that's what army discipline did for me," answered tom rover. "i didn't used to be so particular. but now i've got in the habit of walking a regular chalk mark." "yes, i've walked me a chalk mark, too," put in hans mueller. "i run mine delicatessen stores chust like they vas by army regulations alreatty. and it pays, belief me!" "it's a regular touch of old times to see you around, hans," said tom, grabbing his former school chum by both arms. "how is that new pickling machine getting along?" "vot pickling machine you mean, tom?" questioned hans, looking at him blankly. "why, that machine you're going to invent whereby you can grind up old oilcloth and automobile tires and make dill pickles of them." "i don't vas got no machine like dot, tom," answered the delicatessen man in bewilderment. "i buy mine dill pickles by der barrel. dem dill pickles grows, you can't make 'em by no machine." "oh! then maybe it was a new sourkraut stamper," went on tom innocently. "oh, tom, you vas joking chust like you alvays vas!" exclaimed hans, a light breaking in on him. "vell, i don't care. you vas a pretty goot fellow anyhow," and hans smiled as broadly as ever. "it sure is a touch of old times," declared songbird powell. and then, unable to restrain himself, he burst out: "from among the mountain tops where the brooklet flows, there i love to linger long--" "counting up my toes," broke in tom, with a twinkle in his merry eyes. "counting up my toes!" snorted songbird. "nothing of the kind! you always did knock my poetry endways, tom. that last line was to read like this: "where the sunset glows." the young folks had a grand time that evening singing and dancing, and did not retire until the older heads had hinted several times that they had better do so. "oh, jack, it's a splendid place to come to!" said ruth, when she was on the point of retiring. "i know i'm going to have the best times ever." "and to think my uncle john owns the place!" put in may. "isn't it simply glorious?" after that the days seemed to speed along swiftly. the boys and girls made up various parties up and down the river, and on the hills and in the woods. once they got up a grand family picnic, and everybody attended. during those days the boys often wondered whether brassy bangs would show himself. but brassy kept out of sight, and for the time being they heard nothing further concerning him. but they did hear through joe jackson of bud haddon. that man had been met on the trail to bimbel's ranch in company with several other persons. "they were a bum-looking bunch," declared jackson. "i wouldn't give one of 'em house room on this ranch." "haddon certainly didn't make a very good impression on me," declared jack. "i'm frank to admit i think he's a thoroughly bad egg." from time to time the boys had been sending letters to some of their other school chums, and a number of letters had come in return. one day gif received a long communication from fatty hendry which he read in wonder. "here's something that will interest all of you," he declared, after he had finished. "i guess it clears up the mystery surrounding professor duke." "what is it?" questioned fred eagerly. "it's a letter from fatty hendry. he's been staying at a place named ellenvale, which, as you know, is about thirty miles north of haven point. he says that snopper duke came from that place, and has an aged father living there." "has duke been taking care of his father?" questioned jack. "yes. and his father has been very sick and has had to have several operations. it seems the operations cost a lot of money, and duke wanted two of his younger brothers to help pay for them. but they wouldn't contribute a cent." "gee, that was certainly rough!" declared randy. "no wonder the professor was grouchy at times." "that isn't all of it," went on gif. "fatty got interested and made a little investigation, and he found out that there was another brother, a little older than the professor, who had gotten into difficulties with the firm he was working for. that firm was on the point of having him arrested, so fatty heard, but at the last minute professor duke came forward and settled up for him, so he wasn't prosecuted. "but fatty adds in his letter that he heard this not only took every cent the professor had, but it also placed him in debt to colonel colby and some of his friends." "well, that's what i call hard lines!" declared jack emphatically. "the poor professor must have been worried half to death." "does fatty say anything further about duke's father?" "yes. since the last operation the old gentleman is feeling quite like himself again." "and what became of the brother who got into trouble?" asked spouter. "he disappeared, and fatty says there is a report that he went to england, where the family originally came from. i suppose professor duke was glad to have him go." after this gif handed around the letter so that all might read it. after its perusal andy was the first to speak. "it's too bad," he said, with a deep sigh. "i'm mighty sorry now that i didn't treat the professor with more consideration. that poor man certainly had as much of a load as anybody to carry." "we'll have to make it up to him when we get back to colby hall," declared randy. "i'm going to show him just what i think of him," he went on. "he certainly was a fine fellow to help his old father and to get his brother out of that hole." the boys were still discussing this matter when they suddenly saw joe jackson dash up to the ranch house on his horse and dismount in great haste. "hello, something is wrong!" declared jack. songbird powell and tom and sam rover had seen the approach of the foreman, and men and boys ran out to listen to what he might have to say. "four more horses are gone!" declared joe jackson. "the best horses on the ranch! and, boss, i'm certain this time that they didn't stray away. they were stolen!" chapter xxvi the cattle stampede "four more horses gone!" cried songbird powell in consternation. "when did this happen, jackson?" "less than half an hour ago, over on the three-tree range," returned the foreman. "and what makes you certain that they were stolen this time?" "because the horses had been left all properly tethered. billy brown and his crowd had 'em, and i know billy is a very careful man. he's positive they couldn't have broken away." "this is certainly getting to be a serious matter," declared sam rover. "songbird, if these last four horses were stolen, it's more than probable that the first four went the same way." "any clue to the thief or thieves?" asked tom rover. "the boys looked around and picked up a quirt that they say don't belong to our outfit. but it's a very ordinary quirt and might belong to almost anybody. of course, they found a good many hoof marks, but they were so mixed up with the marks from the other horses they couldn't tell one from the other." "i'll ride over to the place with you and investigate," returned songbird powell after a moment's thought. "perhaps we can get on the trail of the thieves." "can we go along?" questioned spouter quickly. "no, son. we want to use the horses. and, anyway, i think it would be better for you lads to remain behind." songbird and the foreman hurried down to the horse corral accompanied by tom and sam. and thus the boys and girls, as well as the ladies of the household, were left by themselves. "gee! i'd like to go on a chase after those horse thieves," burst out andy. "you might get a pretty warm reception if you did that," remarked fred. "horse thieves and cattle rustlers are usually a bad bunch." "it isn't likely they'll get on the trail of the horses very quickly," put in jack. "those fellows have too much of a start. the most they can do is to advertise the loss as widely as possible and trust to it that some one will recognize the horses, especially blackbird." the boys had spoken about going fishing, and ruth and may had asked if they could go along. as a consequence the young folks spent the remainder of the afternoon along the river. they managed to catch a good mess of fish, of which they were justly proud. "and just to think! i caught two of the fish myself!" exclaimed ruth. "i never knew i was going to be a fisherman." "you mustn't say 'fisherman;' you must say fisherlady," put in andy mischievously. the men did not return until ten o'clock that night. all were tired and hungry and glad to sit down to the meal which mrs. powell and the cook provided. "it was a wild-goose chase," answered tom rover in reply to a question from andy. "we followed half a dozen clues, but they didn't get us anywhere." "what are you going to do next, dad?" questioned spouter. "we sent word to arrow junction and several other places, and they'll post notices giving a description of the stolen animals," answered songbird. "and i've offered a hundred dollars reward for any information leading to the recovery of the horses." the next day one of the cowboys came in with more information. this was to the effect that a ranch in that neighborhood, owned by a man named cheltham, had suffered the loss of three horses, one a mare of considerable value. "say, this certainly is getting interesting," said jack, when the lads heard the older heads talking it over. "first thing we know, all the horses on the place will be gone." "years ago they used to suffer from the cattle rustlers in this neighborhood," said spouter. "but horse stealing is something new." "i wonder if that fellow bud haddon had anything to do with it?" questioned fred. "i was thinking of that," broke in randy. "i think they ought to make an investigation." the boys spoke to the men about this, and there was a long discussion which ended when songbird said he would ride over to the bimbel ranch with his foreman and interview the men. the visit to the bimbel ranch occurred the next day, and the boys waited impatiently for the return of the two men to learn what bimbel and bud haddon might have to say. "another wild-goose chase," announced songbird powell, on the return that evening. "we saw bimbel, and he seemed as much surprised as anybody to learn of the horses being taken." "and what about bud haddon?" asked jack. "we didn't see haddon. but bimbel said he had been at the ranch house early in the morning and he was certain haddon knew nothing about the loss. he said haddon and the other men were out on a range to the westward, looking after the cattle. of course, if haddon was away out there he couldn't have been here taking our horses." "and you didn't see any trace of the animals?" asked spouter. "nothing at all. they said they hadn't heard of the theft nor of the loss of the horses over at cheltham's ranch." after that a week passed swiftly, during which time the young folks enjoyed themselves thoroughly, not only in tramping and riding around and in fishing, but also in other sports around the ranch home. with so much level ground available, a tennis court had been laid out, and also a croquet ground, and the boys and girls enjoyed these games immensely. the lads also pitched quoits, a sport which at times had been popular at colby hall. one day the boys accompanied joe jackson on a round-up of some cattle far down the river. this was a day full of excitement, for some of the cattle broke away and andy and fred happened to be separated from the rest of the crowd and got directly in line with the runaway steers. "hi there! hi there! ride out of the way!" yelled joe jackson at the top of his lungs. andy and fred were looking in the opposite direction and did not notice the cattle until the beasts were within a hundred yards of them. then they heard the foreman's cry and also the beating of the hoofs on the prairie. "my gracious!" gasped fred. "look what's coming!" "we've got to get out of the way and be quick about it," returned andy, and struck his horse on the flank. the steeds the boys were riding needed no urging, for the sudden rush of the cattle filled them with alarm. away they bounded across the grassy plain with the maddened cattle thundering after them. "let's ride to one side and let 'em pass!" gasped fred, who was badly shaken by this sudden turn of affairs. he had not dreamed that the herd of cattle would head for them in this fashion. but to get out of the way was not easy. to one side of the plains was a series of rough rocks, while to the other side there was a brook flowing into the river, and here the ground was soft and treacherous. "don't go that way!" cried andy, as he saw his cousin heading toward the brook. "you'll get stuck and you'll never get out." "i'd rather get stuck than be trampled under foot by those beasts," panted fred. "no, no, fred! turn this way! i'm sure we can get up on the rocks somehow!" declared andy. the boys continued to advance with the thoroughly frightened cattle not far behind them. while being rounded up both cattle and cowboys had come upon a nest of small rattlesnakes. these had, of course, frightened the beasts, and they were still more frightened when the cowboys had begun to shoot at the reptiles. then a few of the cattle had started the stampede, and the rest, terrorized by the pistol shots, had followed. as the two lads galloped on, they looked anxiously to the side where the rocks were located. most of the places they passed were too steep to ascend. but presently andy caught sight of a point where there was something of a trail leading upward. "come on this way!" he yelled to his cousin. "i think we can get up on the rocks here!" in the meanwhile joe jackson and his men, followed by jack and the others, were doing their best to get the cattle to turn back to the point from which they had started. the best herd riders were circling the edge of the rushing animals, shouting at the top of their lungs and firing their pistols. but so far this demonstration had had little effect. "oh, jack! do you think they'll be run down?" gasped randy. "i hope not." "they're on a pair of good horses; they ought to be able to outrun the cattle," came from gif. "don't be so sure of that," cried spouter. "a mad steer can go some, believe me." "who ever thought they would start off like that?" went on randy. "it was firing at those rattlesnakes did it," declared jack. "of course, i can't blame the cowboys for doing that." andy and fred found the rocks anything but easy to ascend. they went up a few feet, and then the horses began to slip and were in danger of rolling over, carrying their young riders with them. "look out!" screamed fred. he had to catch his horse around the neck to keep from being flung headlong. but the horses were as anxious to escape the maddened cattle as were the lads, and the steeds continued to scramble upward until they reached a ledge of rock where the footing was comparatively level. "do you think we'll be all right here?" panted fred, when he could catch his breath sufficiently to speak. "we shall be unless some of those steers take it into their heads to climb the rocks the same way we did," answered andy. he was suffering from a slight bruise on his left leg where he had brushed some of the roughest of the rocks. the horses were still alarmed, and continued to snort and stamp their feet, and the two lads for a few seconds had their hands full quieting the animals. they looked below them and saw the cattle coming on in a great mass. some had already passed, but others were huddled close to the rocks as if on the point of making an ascent. "i really think they'll try to come up," said fred. "come ahead! we'll see if we can't get a little higher up," answered andy. "i don't think the steers will follow us very far, even if they do come. we can shoot at them if we have to," he added, for each of them carried a pistol. beyond the ledge were more rough rocks, and here the two lads had to proceed with caution for fear one of their horses might slip and perhaps break a leg. as they advanced they looked back and saw that the cowboys were coming closer and were beginning to drive a part of the cattle to the rear. "oh, if only they can drive them back!" sighed fred. "just look at 'em, andy! there must be a hundred of the steers directly below us! and see how angry that big black fellow looks! he acts just as if he'd like to come up here and gore us!" "listen!" ejaculated andy, pulling back on the rein. "what's that funny noise?" both listened, and, mingled with the murmurs of the cattle at the foot of the rocks, came to their ears a peculiar whine or growl that was entirely new to the lads. "it's a wild animal of some kind!" cried fred, as the growl was repeated. "where did it come from?" "i don't know. but it was close at hand." thoroughly scared, both boys looked on all sides. then, of a sudden, fred let out another exclamation. "there it is! right on the shelf of rocks yonder! oh, andy, it's a mountain lion!" chapter xxvii the mountain lion it was a time of extreme peril, and both of the rover boys realized it. the shelf of rock was not over twenty feet ahead of them, and on this rested the mountain lion, crouched as if for a spring. fred had scarcely spoken when both horses began to snort and stamp their feet as if wanting to turn and run away. "look out!" screamed andy, "or the horses will take us right back among those mad cattle." with the discovery of the mountain lion, that lay close to the rocky shelf with glaring eyes and tail that swept nervously from side to side, the boys had noted that the animal was as much penned in as they were themselves. beyond the shelf was an overhanging cliff, so that further progress in that direction was cut off completely. had this not been so, it is more than likely that the mountain lion would have turned and slunk away, for like all wild beasts they do not fight unless they think it is necessary to do so. "come on--give him a shot!" exclaimed fred, as soon as he could recover from his astonishment. his weapon was handy, and in a moment the pistol rang out sharply, and this shot was followed by one from his cousin. had the two boys been on the ground their shots might have been more effective. but it was another task to aim from the back of a restive horse that was threatening every instant to bolt, and so both bullets merely grazed the mountain lion's side. but these shots, mingled with those coming from the plain below, had one good effect. the cattle had been stopped in their mad flight and now they turned back in the direction in which the cowboys wanted them to go. as the pistols rang out the mountain lion gave a scream of commingled pain and rage. then it crept forward several feet and made a movement as if on the point of leaping for fred and his steed. "back up! back up, fred!" yelled andy, and fired a second time, and his cousin did likewise. this time the aim of the boys was better, and the mountain lion was hit in one of the forelegs and in the flank. it made a sudden leap, but the wound in the leg made it fall short, and it fell down between the rocks directly in front of where fred's horse was standing. as the mountain lion went down in the hollow the horse uttered another wild snort and an instant later leaped directly over the wild beast, coming down at the foot of the rocky ledge beyond. the steed andy rode backed violently until some other rocks stopped its retreat. "hi there! what are you shooting at?" came a cry from below, and the two boys recognized the voice of joe jackson. "it's a lion!" called back andy. "then plug him! plug him quick!" yelled jackson. "plug him before he gets a chance to get at you!" there was no need for this advice, for andy was already taking aim. this time the bullet passed through the body of the lion and the beast leaped up, turning over and over convulsively. then fred managed to steady his mount for a moment, and he, too, fired, this time catching the mountain lion in the ear. then the beast gave a final leap and tumbled down the rocks almost at the feet of the astonished ranch foreman. "are you hurt?" demanded jackson anxiously, as he gave a glance at the lion to make certain that it was breathing its last. "no," came from both of the boys. but it must be confessed that their voices were trembling. they had all they could do to quiet their horses, the steeds showing a great inclination to leap over the rough rocks and run away. by the time that fred and andy managed to descend to the plain below them the stampede of the cattle, which had been only momentary, was coming to an end, only two steers having run away for parts unknown. "but they'll come back, boss," said one of the cowboys to jackson. "they always do. you can't hire 'em to herd by themselves. they'll sure be back." "a mountain lion! what do you know about that!" exclaimed jack, as he came riding up, followed by the other boys. "did he hurt you at all?" questioned spouter quickly. "he didn't get a chance," answered fred, just a bit proudly. "andy and i let drive at him almost as soon as we saw him." "a pretty powerful beast, i'll say," remarked gif, as he made an examination of the lion that was now dead. "i don't think i'd like to face such a creature." "we had to fight him," declared andy. "he was right up on that rocky shelf yonder, and he couldn't back out. if he had had the chance he'd have leaped right on us." "well, you're the prize hunters of this crowd," declared randy. "you can't put that down to hunting," answered his twin promptly. "that was simply a case of necessity." "anyway, you've got the lion, and that skin will make some rug," declared spouter. "i wonder if there are any other mountain lions around?" remarked gif. "i'd like to get a shot at one of them myself." "they often travel in pairs," answered joe jackson. "but if you're going after lions you had better arm yourselves with rifles. it was only good luck that brought this beast down with pistol bullets." "the pistols were good enough at close quarters," answered andy. "just the same, i'd rather shoot the next mountain lion from a distance," he added dryly. of course, when the boys rode up to the ranch home with the carcass of the dead lion there was a good deal of excitement among the older folks and the girls, and fred and andy had to tell their story in detail. "you really must be more careful in the future, boys," declared mrs. sam rover. "why, you might have been trampled under foot by the cattle, as well as chewed up by this mountain lion!" "i didn't know there was any danger of the cattle stampeding," put in mrs. tom rover. "oh, jackson assures me that the stampede wasn't of much consequence," remarked songbird powell. "but, of course, the boys shouldn't have gotten in front of the animals. but this question of facing a mountain lion is another story." "py chimminy! you don't vas cotch me facin' no mountain lions," declared hans mueller emphatically. "i did me dot years ago, ven i go oud mit your faders. but i ton't do him no more alreatty." "oh, fred, you must be more careful!" protested may to the youngest rover, when she got the chance. "suppose that lion had jumped right on top of you?" "believe me, may, i didn't want to get so close," he answered. "when we discovered the beast he wasn't over twenty feet away." "and they told us there weren't very many wild beasts around here!" came from martha. "after this i guess we had better be careful how we roam through the woods and along the river." "oh, they're not likely to harm you unless you corner them," said songbird powell. "they'll sneak away from you if you give them half a chance. it's only when they're cornered or when they're needing food that they are really combative." the mountain lion was skinned and the pelt taken away by the ranch foreman to be cured, and then fred and andy took it easy for the rest of the day. "isn't it queer that brassy bangs has never showed himself around this place?" remarked spouter that evening. "wouldn't you think he'd at least ride over to see what sort of an outfit we had here?" "more than likely he's afraid of his welcome," said jack. "he knows that none of us care for him." "i'd like to know if he really started that auto," put in fred. "gosh, what a sour fellow that jarley bangs was!" exclaimed andy. there had been an indication of a storm, but this had passed away, and one day found the rover boys and their chums off on a trip along a trail which led across the river and to the mountains westward, a trail which they were informed by jackson led between the ranches owned by jarley bangs and bimbel. "i'd like to get a better view of bimbel's ranch and also of bangs' place," declared jack. "and maybe we'll see something of bud haddon and his crowd." all of the boys were now on good terms with hop lung, and he had prepared for them a substantial lunch and also something extra in case they should remain out after the supper hour. "now you lads take good care of yourselves," admonished tom rover, when they were ready to depart on their day's outing. "no more rattlesnakes or mountain lions!" "or mix-ups with runaway cattle," put in sam rover. spouter and jack carried small rifles, and the others were armed with pistols. they, however, were not going out to hunt, but thought best to provide themselves with the firearms in case any game presented itself. it did not take the boys long to cross the river, and then they followed a trail which led up a long hill and through a somewhat dense forest. they had journeyed along the best part of two hours when they noticed the sun going under a cloud. this caused the trail under the trees to become dark. "gee! i wonder if we're going to have a storm?" remarked randy. "oh, maybe it's nothing but a wind cloud," answered spouter. they continued to move along the trail, and presently reached a small opening where there was a spring. "halt!" called out jack, who was riding ahead with spouter. "what's the matter?" questioned gif quickly. "look there! isn't that a wolf?" asked jack. he pointed with his rifle, which he had already unslung, and all the boys looked in the direction pointed out. "maybe it's a dog," put in fred quickly. "you don't want to shoot somebody's pet," admonished gif. the animal had slunk away behind some brushwood, and now they saw it trying to retreat, pulling something through the dead leaves as it did so. "it's a wolf! i'm sure of it!" declared jack, and, raising his rifle, he took quick aim and fired. as the echo of the firearm died away the lads heard a snarl and a yelp, and an instant later a gaunt wolf showed himself, his fangs gleaming dangerously as he came closer. several shots rang out, for all of the boys had their weapons ready. the wolf was hit in three places, and gave a single leap into the air and then dropped lifeless. "hurrah! we've got him!" yelled randy, with satisfaction. "be careful! don't go too close before we're sure," warned jack. "better reload first." but the wolf was past doing further harm, and having assured themselves of this the boys looked at what he had been carrying away. "it's the side of a calf!" exclaimed spouter. "isn't this the limit? i'm glad we brought him down!" "he must have been raiding some cow yard," said jack. "no ranch cow yard," said gif. "this half of a calf was skinned by some person. i'll bet he stole it out of some ranch larder." and later on it was learned that the calf meat had been stolen from jarley bangs' place the night before. the boys had become so interested in bringing down the wolf that they had paid no attention to what was taking place overhead. but now they noticed that the sky was more overcast than ever. the wind began to blow through the woods, and of a sudden there came a downpour as surprising as it was dismaying. chapter xxviii in the cave "we're in for it now!" cried jack, as he looked up at the sky and at the trees beginning to bend in the wind. "and it's going to be some storm, or i miss my guess," added gif. "i wonder if we can find any shelter around here?" put in randy. "if we can't we'll be soaked to the skin in no time." "jackson was telling me of a couple of caves toward the end of these woods," said spouter quickly. "i wonder if we could reach the nearest of them? it might help us to get out of the rain." "come on--let's try it!" put in fred eagerly. leaving the dead wolf where it had fallen, the boys pushed forward on the trail, which now led downward on the other side of the hill. here they noticed the going was getting rougher, and presently they found themselves entering a defile among the rocks. here the trees were more scattering and consequently they were exposed to the full fury of the elements. ever and anon a flash of lightning would illumine the sky, followed by the crack and rumble of thunder. "say, maybe we had better stay under the trees," suggested andy. "suppose the trees should be struck by lightning?" questioned jack. "i think we had better go on, especially if we're anywhere near those caves jackson mentioned." a turn in the defile brought them to something of an open place. here on one side the rocks towered fully fifty feet above their heads and at one point there was an opening perhaps fifteen feet square and leading into the side of the hill. "this must be the first of the caves!" cried spouter. "come on in!" and without ceremony he led the way, and the others followed, glad to get out of the storm. they found the cave an irregular one, running in somewhat of a semicircle and with a flooring that was comparatively level. it was dry and fairly comfortable, and once beyond the fury of the storm the lads dismounted and proceeded to make themselves at home. the rain continued to come down and, with nothing better to do, the boys proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as possible. near the entrance to the cave they found some leaves and dead tree branches which were still dry, and these they dragged inside and then made themselves a campfire. "i reckon we'll have to cut out going any further," announced spouter. "even if the storm clears away, the trail will be very wet and slippery." it still lacked an hour to noon, and with nothing else to do the boys tethered their horses and then proceeded to investigate their surroundings. from the campfire they obtained several torches, and with these in hand they moved along slowly around the bend of the cave and over a series of rocks which led upward. "it certainly is a larger cave than i supposed," said jack, as he and gif led the way, with the others close behind. "i think i see a light ahead, jack," was gif's remark. "that must be another opening to the cave." "maybe the two caves that jackson mentioned are really one, and this passageway connects them." "we'll soon find out." by this time all but one of the torches had burnt themselves out. but this the lads did not mind, for the light ahead was steadily increasing, showing that they could not be far from another opening. "look!" called jack suddenly. and then he added: "keep quiet, all of you!" he pointed ahead and there, around a bend of the rocks, all saw two figures moving around on horseback. one was the figure of a tall man, and the other that of a well-grown youth. "why, that's brassy bangs!" whispered fred excitedly. "yes. and the man is bud haddon," returned andy. "what do you bet haddon isn't after brassy for more money?" put in fred excitedly. while the youngest rover was speaking, he and the others saw that the two figures on horseback had disappeared behind a mass of rocks. "i'm going ahead and find out about this," declared jack. "come on! so far as we can see there are only two of them, so the six of us have nothing to fear." "especially as we're armed," added fred, who carried his pistol with him. throwing down the last of their torches, the six boys advanced with caution. they heard the horses beyond the rocks occasionally stamping a hoof and caught a faint murmur of voices. then, led by jack, they mounted the rocks noiselessly, presently gaining a point where they could look directly down upon brassy bangs and his companion. "it's all wrong, bud haddon, and you know it!" they heard brassy declare. "and sooner or later the authorities will get after you for this." "see here, lester bangs, you don't have to preach to me!" growled bud haddon. "you're just as deep in some things as i am in others." "it isn't true, and you know it!" whined brassy. and now the lads who were listening could see that their fellow-cadet was very much upset. "i'm not guilty, and i never have been guilty of any wrongdoing!" "you tell that to the police and see what they have to say about it," sneered haddon, "you know well enough that you set fire to john calder's barn and burnt up horses that was worth thousands of dollars." "and i always said it was some cowboys or tramps that did it!" stormed brassy. "not much! you did it! i know it, and so do jillson and dusenbury! we've got the goods on you." "what were jillson and dusenbury and you doing around the place?" questioned brassy suddenly. "never mind what we were doing around there. we know you set the barn on fire. didn't you have a quarrel with old calder?" "yes, i did. but i didn't make any fire. maybe you had a quarrel with him yourself." "hold on there, bangs! none of that!" cried bud haddon sternly. "well, you wouldn't be too good to set the fire," added brassy, with sudden recklessness. "not after the way you are acting out here, running away with those horses, and after the way you acted at colby hall, trying to rob every room in the place!" "wait a minute now! wait a minute!" returned the man sarcastically. "who was it lent me his uniform and who was it that told me just what rooms to go into? answer me those questions, will you?" "you wouldn't have gotten hold of the uniform and you wouldn't have gotten any information if you hadn't threatened me in all sorts of ways," answered brassy, somewhat lamely. "i wish now that i'd never had anything to do with you!" "well, you keep your tongue between your teeth, or else you'll get yourself in the hottest kind of water!" burst out bud haddon. "don't you know that they can send you to prison for ten years for what you did?" "i haven't said anything to anybody as yet," answered brassy hastily. "well, you see that you don't!" "but i didn't set calder's barn on fire--really i didn't!" pleaded the boy. "i don't see why you won't believe me." "i'm willing to let that matter drop if only you'll keep a civil tongue in your head and mind what you're doing," returned bud haddon. "and don't forget--i want at least a hundred dollars more just as soon as you can lay your hands on it." "i don't see how i'm going to get it. i'm expecting some money from my uncle. but that has got to pay for my tuition at colby hall this fall." "well, you let the school wait for its money and you turn it over to me. they won't want you there anyhow if they should find out what sort of a fellow you are," went on bud haddon coarsely. "now i've got to be getting back to bimbel's, rain or no rain," he continued. "just remember, you've got to fork over a hundred in cold cash before you start east again. if you don't--well, look out, that's all!" and with this threat the tall man rode out of the cave. the rovers and their chums had listened to every word that had been spoken. they were both mystified and amazed by what had been said. "that fellow haddon is surely a first-class rascal," whispered spouter to jack. "do you know what i think we had better do?" returned the young major. "let's stop brassy and have a straight talk with him. i don't think he's quite as bad as we thought he might be." "yes, let us stop brassy by all means," came in a low tone from fred. brassy bangs had ridden to the mouth of the cave and there sat astride of his horse, watching bud haddon as he galloped away though the rain. then he turned back in anything but a cheerful humor. the other boys saw him dismount and sink down on a rock, covering his face with his hands. "come on," said jack, and without more ado he scrambled down from the rocks and came around to where brassy was sitting, and the others did the same. brassy's misery was so great that for several seconds he did not notice their approach. then, he looked up startled and leaped to his feet. "where did you come from?" he demanded, as soon as he could speak. "we came from the other end of the cave, brassy," answered jack. "how long have you been here?" "we've been here long enough to hear the talk you had with that fellow named haddon," answered fred. "you did!" brassy turned pale. "it wasn't very nice to listen when you had no business to!" "never mind about that now, brassy. what we want to know is, did you or that fellow rob colby hall?" "he did it! i didn't have a thing to do with it--at least, willingly!" cried brassy bangs. "he forced me to do everything i did. he threatened me in all sorts of ways--said he would put me in prison and all that if i didn't help him. oh, he's the worst man there ever was!" groaned the overwrought boy. and now the others could see that he was on the verge of collapse. "see here, brassy, why don't you tell us the whole story?" put in gif kindly. "why should i tell my story to you? all you fellows are against me--you always were!" "we're not against you, brassy," answered jack. "if you can prove to us that you're really being hounded by that man, we'll do what we can to help you. isn't that so, fellows?" and at this question the others nodded. "hounded is right! he's done nothing but hound me ever since he knew me," whined the accused one. "you tell me one thing!" demanded spouter, striding up and catching brassy by the shoulder. "did that rascal steal the horses from our ranch?" "i think he did--in fact, i'm about certain he did. that is, either he or the fellows he's in league with." "who are those other fellows?" "two fellows who just came out here from chicago named jillson and dusenbury and two others from bimbel's ranch named noxley and jenks. the whole bunch were mixed up with bimbel some years ago in a shady transaction, and they lit out for quite a while. but now they're back again." "i don't see why you want to get mixed up with a crowd like that," was andy's comment. "i didn't want to get mixed up with 'em," declared brassy. "i haven't had a thing to do with any of 'em except bud haddon. oh, i wish i'd never met that man!" and now brassy seemed almost on the verge of tears. chapter xxix a confession after that it was an easy matter for the other boys to get brassy to make a complete confession. "my first trouble came when i got a job with john calder who has a farm on the outskirts of omaha," said brassy. "i had had a quarrel at home, and also a quarrel with my uncle here, and had made up my mind to get a place and support myself. but i couldn't get along with calder, who was a very strict man, and one afternoon we had a lively quarrel, and i told him i'd leave, and i did so and went to omaha. about a week after that calder's barn burned down and a number of horses were caught in the fire. that was just after i had fallen in with bud haddon and his two chums, jillson and dusenbury. haddon pretended to be quite friendly. but all at once he accused me of setting the fire and said that jillson and dusenbury, who had left the day before, could prove it. i protested my innocence, but he insisted i was guilty and worked me up to such an extent that i gave him almost every dollar i had in my pocket to keep him quiet." "and you say positively that you had nothing to do with the fire?" questioned fred. "not a thing!" "couldn't you prove that you weren't there when the fire took place?" asked andy. "no, i couldn't, because i went to a vaudeville show that evening, and i was among strangers, so that i couldn't account for my time." "did haddon hound you when you came to colby hall?" questioned gif. "he certainly did--not once, but half a dozen times. and i gave him all the money i could scrape up. in fact, i even borrowed some money from halliday and a couple of the other fellows." "but what about the robbery at the hall?'" questioned fred. "several times haddon came to me and spoke in a mysterious manner about its being an easy matter to make a big haul. then he hinted about the robbery; but i would have nothing to do with it. on the afternoon when we were getting ready to celebrate that night, he sent word that he wanted to see me at a certain barn not far from the school. when i got there he demanded that i help him go through the bedrooms while the fellows were having a good time on the campus and down by the river. i said i wouldn't do it, and then all of a sudden he hit me on the head and knocked me down. then he stripped me of my trousers and jacket and tied me fast in one of the disused horse stalls." "and you mean to say he used your uniform in stealing into the school?" asked spouter. "that's it. i didn't know it at the time, because he went to another part of the barn where i couldn't see him. but later on, when he brought the uniform back, he told me all about it. he thought he had been wonderfully slick." "why didn't you expose him at once?" demanded jack. "he told me that if i exposed him he would tell the authorities that i had planned the whole scheme and that i had done most of the work myself. he said some one had seen him in the uniform scooting from one room to another, so that the report would circulate that some cadet was guilty. he got me so worked up that at last i promised to keep quiet." "and had he really robbed your room, too?" demanded fred. "yes. i lost my stuff just as i reported. oh, you can't imagine how i felt!" went on brassy bangs in a hopeless tone of voice. "many a time i thought i'd go to colonel colby and confess everything. but then i thought they would bring that old charge of barn-burning up against me, as well as the charge of helping in the robbery, and i didn't have nerve enough to say a word. oh, i know i was a big fool! i should have faced it out!" "wait a minute!" put in jack suddenly. "are you pretty sure haddon, as well as dusenbury and jillson, are guilty of making off with the horses that are missing?" "i am!" "well, then, isn't it possible that those three went to this john calder's barn and stole some of the horses and then set fire to the place to cover the theft?" "by golly, i'll bet that's just what they did!" burst out brassy bangs. "i remember now that the reports in the newspapers said the fire had been so fierce that the carcasses of the horses had been burnt up completely. they only found some of the bones in the ruins. oh, if they really did do that!" "did calder have any particularly good horses?" "yes, he had a splendid team of matched grays that were worth considerable money. he thought more of the grays than he did of all his other horses put together." "i'll wager a toothpick against a lemon that gang stole the grays before the fire," declared andy emphatically. "the police ought to arrest those three men and put 'em through what they call the third degree," remarked gif. "i'd like to know one other thing," went on andy, and now his face showed a slight grin. "what do you know about your uncle jarley's auto running away by itself?" "oh, please don't mention that tin junk wagon!" pleaded brassy. "i started it, and the blamed thing ran over me, and i was lame for a week." "does your uncle know anything about what haddon and his crowd are up to?" questioned jack. "not exactly. although he's becoming suspicious of the whole gang around the bimbel place. you know he's never trusted bimbel since the man got into difficulty with the authorities several years ago." after that the seven boys talked the matter over for half an hour longer. and then the others insisted upon it that brassy accompany them to the other entrance to the cave, and there all sat down to partake of the lunch brought from big horn ranch. brassy appeared much relieved by the confession he had made, and readily answered all the questions put to him. his assertive manner had left him entirely, and he appeared quite humble. "if he ever gets out of this i'll bet he'll be a different fellow," whispered randy to fred. "i think so myself," was the reply. "but how he is going to square himself with colonel colby remains to be seen. it was a serious piece of business to let haddon steal all those things from the school and say nothing about it." while the boys were eating the storm stopped, and less than an hour later the sun was shining as before. "i think we might as well be on our way back to the ranch," remarked spouter. "the sooner we get there and let our fathers know how matters stand, the better." "don't you want to go with us, brassy?" asked jack. "if i did that i couldn't get back to my uncle's place to-night, and then he'd worry about me. otherwise i would just as lief go to your place as not. now that i've told you everything i'd like to see the whole matter cleaned up, and quick too." "how far is it to your uncle's ranch?" asked fred. "not over a mile and a half." "then suppose we go there first, and then all of us can strike out for big horn ranch. maybe your uncle will want to take part in what is going on," said jack. "i wish you would go with me!" cried brassy eagerly. "i'm afraid my uncle will raise cain when i tell him the truth." "he won't dare do much when we're around," answered gif. "if he gets too ugly you can clear out and meet us on the way to our place." "that's the talk," said randy. again there was a discussion, but in the end it was decided that the whole party should lose no time in getting to jarley bangs' ranch. they would explain matters to brassy's uncle, and then set out for songbird powell's place. the campfire was speedily stamped out, and leaping into the saddle, the seven boys set out for the bangs' place, brassy leading the way, with spouter beside him. it was a wet and dismal ride through the woods, and it is safe to say that brassy felt every bit as dismal as his surroundings. "gee, but i certainly am sorry for him!" whispered andy to his twin. "he isn't a fellow that i would cotton to, but he certainly has got himself into a pickle." presently the woods were left behind and they came out on the open prairie. here the sun shone brightly, and the trail was drying rapidly. they urged their steeds into a gallop, and in a short while came in sight of the jarley bangs' outfit. as they rode up they saw jarley bangs come from the ranch house and move swiftly toward one of the stables where the horses were kept. he was evidently in a hurry and much excited. "hello! where have you been?" he demanded of his nephew. "where did you pick up these chaps?" "i met 'em during the storm over at twin caves," answered brassy. "it's a wonder you wouldn't stay around the house once in a while," grumbled jarley bangs. "if you would, maybe i wouldn't be losing things." "losing things! what do you mean, uncle jarley?" questioned the nephew quickly. "what do i mean?" stormed the ranch owner. "do you know what has happened since you went away?" "no." "well, then, i'll tell you! two of our best horses have been stolen! right out of the stable, too!" exclaimed jarley bangs wrathfully. "duster and old whitehead!" "stolen!" came from all of the boys simultaneously. "yes, stolen! nobody saw 'em taken, but they're gone, and not a man on the ranch was near 'em!" "i'll wager that's more of bud haddon's work," declared jack quickly. "but he wasn't here--he was over at the caves," returned fred. "well, if he didn't do it, then some members of his gang did," put in randy. "i'm going to have the law on somebody for this!" stormed jarley bangs. "too many horses in this neighborhood have been stolen. i'm going to visit some of the other ranchmen and notify the sheriff, and see if we can't raise a posse to run down the rascals." "that's the way to talk, mr. bangs!" cried spouter. "and we know just what gang to go after." chapter xxx the capture--conclusion less than an hour later found the whole party, including jarley bangs, on the way to big horn ranch. brassy's uncle had listened with keen interest to the story his nephew and the other lads had to relate. he had interrupted a number of times to ask questions, and at the finish of the recital had held up both hands in disgust. "you're a bigger fool than i ever thought you were, lester," he had told his nephew. "why in thunder didn't you tell your folks and me all about this just as soon as it happened? we could have set a trap for those rascals and caught 'em easy." "but, uncle jarley, remember how i was tied up in that colby hall affair!" brassy had pleaded. "i don't believe colonel colby would hold you responsible for that--not after he'd made a thorough investigation. but that ain't here nor there. what we want to do now is to grab those fellows before they've a chance to make a get-away. i'd just like to ketch 'em with duster and whitehead in their possession! i think i could find enough old-timers around here to hand all of 'em a rope," and jarley bangs' eyes had flashed with a fire that was anything but agreeable. the rover boys and their chums had thought to take the regular trail leading back to big horn ranch, but jarley bangs told them he knew of a shorter way. "we can cut off over a mile," said he. "and i reckon the quicker we get a posse out the better." "don't you suppose we can round them up around bimbel's ranch almost any time?" queried spouter. "maybe, and maybe not. we'd probably be able to get the others, but haddon, dusenbury and jillson come and go. sometimes they're here, and sometimes in omaha and chicago." "perhaps that's where they disposed of their stolen horses," suggested jack. "more'n likely." jarley bangs had armed himself with a double-barreled shotgun, and he rode in advance with spouter at his side and the others close behind. the way lay across a stretch of prairie and then into the edge of the woods bordering the river. the party had just gained the water's edge and were looking for a good fording place when brassy suddenly uttered an exclamation. "look up the river, will you? there are those men now! and see! they are leading a couple of horses!" "get back out of sight, quick!" ordered jarley bangs. and in a few seconds all were behind the bushes which at that point lined the river. "why, they're heading almost straight for big horn ranch!" exclaimed spouter excitedly. "they're going to follow the old river trail," announced jarley bangs. "more'n likely they'll take to the lower trail when they reach the forks." "can't we head 'em off and capture 'em?" questioned fred. "i think we can. anyhow, we can try," was jarley bangs' answer. the old ranchman made a swift mental calculation and then directed the boys to follow him to a fording place a little further down the river. once on the other side of the watercourse, he urged his steed forward at topmost speed in the direction of another patch of timber further southward. "they wouldn't dare take the upper trail," he told the lads. "for that would take 'em too close to big horn. they'll come this way, i'm almost certain." it was not easy riding on a trail which was used but seldom. nevertheless, the lads hurried after the old ranchman as well as they could. they wound in and out over some rough rocks and up a small hill, and presently emerged upon a much better trail. "here is where they ought to pass," announced jarley bangs. "now then, we'll put our horses in the thicket and then see what we can do toward pocketing 'em when they come." the old ranchman had seen strenuous times in his younger days, and he seemed to know exactly what to do. he divided the boys into two groups, placing them on either side of the winding and rocky road. "now if you have to shoot, shoot high so as not to hit anybody on the other side," was his warning. "but maybe we can get 'em without firing a shot," he went on. brassy was armed with a small rifle, and he insisted upon remaining in the roadway with his uncle. the other lads with their pistols and guns were placed in advantageous positions behind nearby rocks and trees. the arrangement was scarcely completed when they heard the tramp of horses' hoofs over the somewhat rocky trail, and in a minute more bud haddon came into view, followed by jillson and dusenbury, all on horseback and each of the latter leading an extra steed. "throw up your hands!" shouted jarley bangs, as the horsemen came closer, and he leveled his shotgun full at haddon's head, while brassy covered dusenbury with his rifle. the boys behind the rocks and trees covered all three men as well as they were able. the three rascals had not anticipated such a meeting, and, seeing the guns leveled at them, not only from the front but also from the sides, three pairs of hands went up almost as one. "it's bangs!" murmured the man named dusenbury. "i reckon the jig is up." "don't dare to budge or i'll blow somebody's head off!" roared jarley bangs. and he looked as if he meant what he said. "you've got the drop on me, and i ain't moving," answered bud haddon surlily. "hi, powell! come out here, will you?" went on brassy bangs' uncle. and then, as spouter came from the bushes with rifle in hand, he continued. "go up there and take every one of their guns away from 'em." as soon as they had been disarmed the three rascals were told to dismount and stand in a line along the side of the road. then, as the boys confronted them, jarley bangs went through their pockets once more to make sure that no weapon had been overlooked. "fine piece of business, to run away with my horses!" exclaimed the old ranch owner, and he jerked his head in the direction of the two animals the men had been leading. with their hands tied in front of them, the men were made to remount, and then the entire party lost no time in heading for big horn ranch. "i'll fix you for this!" hissed haddon at brassy when he got the chance. "you do your worst!" retorted the boy. "i'm not afraid of you any more." of course, there was great excitement at the ranch when the crowd came in with the three prisoners. the story of what had happened was quickly circulated, and joe jackson and a number of the cowboys were called in from the ranges. one of the cowboys was sent off to notify a deputy sheriff of what had occurred and of what the ranch owners expected to do, and two other cowboys were started off to notify the owners of other ranches in that vicinity. as a consequence early the next morning a posse consisting of twelve men headed for bimbel's ranch. of course, the boys wanted to go along, but they were forced to remain behind, much to their chagrin. "you might get shot," said songbird powell. "and, besides that, you have had glory enough, helping to catch these three rascals," and he smiled faintly. the affair at bimbel's was rather a strenuous one. jenks and noxley, as well as bimbel, tried to escape, and noxley was shot in the leg. the fellow thought he was going to die, and while waiting for the doctor to come and attend him he made a full confession concerning the stealing of many of the horses in that neighborhood. he said that bud haddon was at the head of the gang and that haddon, with jillson and dusenbury, were in the habit of disposing of the animals either at omaha or chicago, although one or two steeds, including one belonging to the former owners of big horn ranch had been sent further east. "i guess it was one of the early thefts that took haddon to haven point," declared jack, and in that surmise he was correct. with this evidence against them, haddon, jillson and dusenbury were submitted to a severe gruelling, each being examined separately. finally dusenbury broke down completely and admitted that he and the other two had fired john calder's barn after stealing his noted pair of gray horses. the horses had been shipped out of town, and were later on recovered, as were also mr. powell's blackbird and several other of the animals. when bud haddon's effects were examined many pawn tickets were discovered, and following up the clues thus afforded colonel colby managed to get back many of the articles stolen from the school. these included professor duke's heirloom watch and a number of the things lost by our friends. at first it was thought that brassy might be prosecuted, but when bud haddon was brought to trial for the thefts the state used the youth as a witness against the fellow, and consequently brassy was allowed to go free. he, however, received a stern lecture from colonel colby and was then told that he had better not return to the hall. "i don't think i want to come back," said brassy. "a whole lot of the fellows would never forgive me for what i did." and in this surmise he was probably correct. brassy returned to his uncle's ranch, and that was the last heard of him for a long time. with the mystery of the robbery at colby hall and of the missing horses cleared up, the rover boys and all the other young folks at big horn ranch turned their attention once more to having a good time. sam rover went back to new york to take charge of the offices in wall street, and that gave dick rover and his wife a chance to come out and pay the ranch a visit. "we've certainly had some strenuous times here," remarked jack one day. and he was right. but other strenuous times were still in store for the lads, and what some of these were will be related in the next volume, to be entitled, "the rover boys at big bear lake; or, the camps of the rival cadets." "big horn ranch is a delightful place," said ruth. "i never thought a spot where they raised cattle could be so interesting." "is your father going to stay out here and become a regular ranchman, spouter?" questioned fred. "i don't know about that," answered the ranch owner's son. "he'll stay here for a while, anyway. he likes it better and better every day." "i dink some day i got me a ranch mineself alreatty," remarked hans mueller. "den i could raise all mine own meats for mine delicatessen stores, not so?" and he smiled complacently. "come on, boys, let's get on horseback and have a race!" cried andy, as he came up from finishing a game of lawn tennis with mary. "i'm with you," answered fred, who had been playing a game of croquet with may and some of the others. "all right! a horseback race it is!" cried jack. "an extra piece of cake to the boy who wins!" shouted his sister martha after him. "hurrah! me for that piece of cake!" came from every one of the boys assembled. and here, while they are running down to the corral pell-mell to get on their horses for a gallop across the prairie, we will leave them and say good-bye. the end * * * * * the famous rover boys series by arthur m. winfield (edward stratemeyer) over three million copies sold of this series uniform style of binding. colored wrappers. every volume complete in itself. the rover boys at school the rover boys on the ocean the rover boys in the jungle the rover boys out west the rover boys on the great lakes the rover boys in the mountains the rover boys on land and sea the rover boys in camp the rover boys on the river the rover boys on the plains the rover boys in southern waters the rover boys on the farm the rover boys on treasure isle the rover boys at college the rover boys down east the rover boys in the air the rover boys in new york the rover boys in alaska the rover boys in business the rover boys on a tour the rover boys at colby hall the rover boys on snowshoe island the rover boys under canvas the rover boys on a hunt the rover boys in the land of luck the rover boys at big horn ranch the rover boys at big bear lake the rover boys shipwrecked grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york * * * * * the tom swift series by victor appleton uniform style of binding. individual colored wrappers. every volume complete in itself. every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. tom swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading. tom swift and his motor cycle tom swift and his motor boat tom swift and his airship tom swift and his submarine boat tom swift and his electric runabout tom swift and his wireless message tom swift among the diamond makers tom swift in the caves of ice tom swift and his sky racer tom swift and his electric rifle tom swift in the city of gold tom swift and his air glider tom swift in captivity tom swift and his wizard camera tom swift and his great searchlight tom swift and his giant cannon tom swift and his photo telephone tom swift and his aerial warship tom swift and his big tunnel tom swift in the land of wonders tom swift and his war tank tom swift and his air scout tom swift and his undersea search tom swift and among the fire fighters tom swift and his electric locomotive tom swift and his flying boat tom swift and his great oil gusher grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york