"You've just begun to see the west," said John Smith. "It's a great place, and a big place."
"Well, we're likely to see some of it in the next few weeks," said
Nat. "I reckon Colorado is a good place to get a wide view from."
"None better," admitted John. "It has a fine climate, and when we get there—"
At that instant the attention of the boys was attracted by a loud shouting behind them. They turned, to see a crowd of men and boys running after a big brown animal.
"One of the cows has got loose," said Nat.
"Cows?" exclaimed John. "It's one of the wild steers, and it looks like a dangerous one. Better duck for cover."
With a bellow the steer, which had broken from one of the pens, made straight for the boys. In close chase came the crowd.
Suddenly the pursuing party throng parted, and, with a yell, a horseman, waving a lasso above his head, galloped after the beast. He was close to him when the steer, which was near the small office where Mr. Post and his friend were, turned sharply and darted off to the right. The horse man, at that instant had made a throw, but the rope went wild, and, a second later, trying to turn his horse quickly the steed stumbled and fell.
The steer, with a mad bellow, turned around and started back for the crowd, that had halted. With lowered head, armed with long, sweeping, sharp horns, the angry animal leaped forward.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OLD STOCKMAN
"Someone will get hurt!" cried Jack.
"Here, hold my coat and hat!" exclaimed John, as he thrust those articles of wearing apparel into Nat's hands.
"What are you going to do?" asked Jack.
"I'm going to rope that steer!" yelled the Indian lad.
He ran to where the cattleman had fallen from his horse. The rider's leg was caught, and when he tried to stand, as John helped him up, it was seen that it was broken.
"Is the horse a fast one?" John asked, pulling in the lariat, and coiling it.
"He sure is," was the answer, while the man stretched out on the ground to wait for aid, which was on the way.
A moment later John had mounted the horse and was off on a gallop after the steer, which was circling around in a wild endeavor to escape into the open. It's wild bellows were producing a panic among the other animals, that were dashing about in the pens, in imminent danger of knocking the sides down.
As John, who seemed to be perfectly at home in the saddle, rode at the animal, it gave a snort and dashed off down a railroad track. Just ahead of it a freight train was coming, but the steer did not see it, as it dashed on, with lowered head.
Straight down the track after the steer, raced John, urging the horse to top speed. Above his head swung the lasso, which the boy handled almost with the skill of a veteran.
"Come back!" yelled Mr. Post. "Don't you see the train?"
Evidently John did see, but he was not going to stop. He realized that unless he stopped the maddened steer it would dash ahead on into the locomotive. While it could not do the ponderous machine any harm, there was every chance of derailing it, if the wheels ground over the lifeless body, and a wreck might follow.
"He's a plucky fellow!" exclaimed the cattleman, as some of his friends came to carry him to a place where his injured leg could be set.
The pony John was riding entered into the spirit of the race. It was work for which he had been trained, and, though chasing after wild steers down a railroad track was not like doing it out on the plains, it was "all in the day's work." With nimble feet the pony leaped from tie to tie, on and on and on after the maddened brute.
The engineer of the freight was blowing the whistle in frantic toots to warn the steer from the track, but the animal did not heed.
"He'll never make it," exclaimed Jack.
"Timbuctoo and turntables!" cried Nat. "He's a brave one. Never knew he could ride like that."
John dug his heels into the pony's side to urge it to another burst of speed. Then, with a shout, he whirled the lasso in ever widening circles about his head. Suddenly he sent it whirling straight ahead. Like a thin snake the rope hissed forward, and then fell in coils about the neck of the steer. John had taken a turn or two about the pommel of the saddle, and, true to its training, the little pony settled back on its haunches.
The next instant it seemed as if the steer had met a cyclone. It went down in a heap, a wild mixture of horns and flying hoofs. And, not a second too soon, for, as it rolled from the track, being fairly snatched from the rails by the taut-ness of the rope, the train came gliding up, though under reduced speed, and severed the lariat.
Then John, with a motion of his wrist, guided the pony from the path to the train, which the engineer was doing his best to bring to a stop. The boy and steed easily got out of the way, and then, turning the pony, John rode to where he had left his companions. The steer, all the desire for fight gone, stood dejectedly beside the track, and a number of men, who had hurried up, took charge of it.
[Illustration: IT SEEMED AS IF THE STEER HAD MET A CYCLONE-Page 154]
"Say, that was the best bit of work I ever saw done!" commented Mr. Post, as he came from the office where he and Mr. Liggins had been talking. "I watched you through the window. Put it there, pardner," and he extended his hand, which John grasped.
"Where'd you learn to ride, young man?" asked Mr. Liggins, in business-like tones.
"Some of my Indian relatives taught me," replied John modestly, as he dismounted. "I'm not very good at it though. Haven't had any practice."
"You don't need it!" exclaimed Mr. Liggins. "Say, young fellow, I'd like to hire you. I need you out here. We have accidents like this every day, only not so sensational, and if you can save a steer that way once in a while you'd more than earn your salary."
"Much obliged," John said, "but I can't take your offer."
"Why didn't you tell us you could rope a steer and handle a cow pony?" inquired Jack,
"You never asked me," was John's reply. "You see I have some Indian traits in me, even if I am only a half-breed."
"Well, you certainly can throw a rope," Jack admitted. "Wish I could do half as well."
"Rollicking rattlesnakes! But I'm going to learn as soon as we get out on the ranch," put in Nat.
"I guess you'll both have plenty of opportunity," John remarked.
"Well, what are you boys going to do now?" asked Mr. Post. "I'm through with my business, and I've got to stay in town a few days, but I'll be so busy I'm afraid I'll not get much chance to see you. Besides you're going right on, aren't you?"
"That's our plan," said Jack.
"Well, I'll leave you then," went on the miner, "got to see another man in the yards. I may meet you again, some day, and I may not. This world's an uncertain place. Anyway, I'm glad I met you, and if you ever get into trouble and I can help you, why just wire me. My general address, for a year or two, will be Chicago, care of Lemuel Liggins. He'll see that you get into the city from here, all right, and will take good care of you. Now I'm off," and shaking hands with the boys and with Mr. Liggins, the miner hurried away down the maze of stock yards.
"Come inside the office and rest a bit," invited Mr. Liggins. "You've got lots of time, and I'll drive you to town later."
"Wait a minute!" cried Jack, darting after Mr. Post.
He ran from the office and started down the maze of tracks in the direction the miner had taken. But Mr. Post was not to be seen. He had either met some acquaintance and gone into one of the numerous small offices and shacks that dotted the yards, or else was lost in the crowds. Jack soon came back, looking disappointed.
"What did you want of him?" asked Nat.
"I wanted to find out more about Orion Tevis," replied Jack. "You remember he spoke of him just before the accident when we collided with the freight, and I meant to ask him if he knew the man on whom the finding of my father may depend. But I forgot about it in all the excitement. Now it's too late."
"Who did you want to inquire about?" asked Mr. Liggins, coming forward. "Excuse me, but I happened to hear you mention a strange sounding name."
"Orion Tevis," said Jack. "Do you know anything about him, Mr.
Liggins?"
"Do I? Well I guess I do. Me and him didn't work as mining pardners for ten years for nothing. I reckon I do know Orion Tevis. So does Josh Post."
"Where is he now?" asked Jack eagerly. "I must find him. He may know where my father is, who is in hiding because of the scheming of some wicked men."
"Well, now you have got me," Mr. Liggins said. "I haven't seen Tevis for some years, not since he retired from active work. He speculates in cattle now and then, and I had a letter from him a few months ago."
"Where is that letter now?" asked Jack, his voice trembling with eagerness.
"Land live you! I guess I burned it up," replied Mr. Liggins. "I never save letters. Get too many of 'em. But it was from some place out in Colorado. A little country town, I reckon, or I'd have remembered the name."
"Try to think of it," pleaded Jack. "A lot may depend on it. I may be able to get Mr. Tevis's address from the Capital Bank in Denver, but they may refuse to give it to me, or may have lost it."
"Wish I could help you, son," said Mr. Liggins, sympathetically. "But
I reckon I lost that letter. Hold on, though, maybe I can fix you up.
You say his address is at the Capital Bank?"
"That's what I understand."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Come to think of it now, he did write me he transacted all his business through them. More than that he sent me a sort of card to use in case I ever got out there, and wanted to see him. Said there was reasons why he didn't want every one to know where he was, so he instructed the bank to give his address to only those who showed a certain kind of card. I reckon I kept that card as a sort of curiosity."
"I hope so," murmured Jack.
The stockman began looking through a big wallet he pulled from his pocket. It was stuffed with papers and bills.
"Here it is!" he exclaimed, as he extended a rather soiled bit of pasteboard. "Queer looking thing."
Indeed it was. The card had a triangle drawn in the center. Inside of this was a circle, with a representation of an eye. In each of the angles were, respectively, a picture of a dagger, a revolver and a gun. On top appeared this:
"In Medio tutissimus ibis"
"Don't seem to mean anything as far as I've ever been able to make out," Mr. Liggins said. "Looks like a cross between a secret order card and a notice from the vigilance committee. And them words on the top I take to be some foreign language, but I never went to school enough to learn 'em."
"They're Latin," said Jack, "and mean, literally, 'you will go most safely in the middle,' or, I suppose, 'the middle way is safest.'"
"That's like Orion Tevis," commented the stockman. "He was always a cautious fellow, and rather queer here,"—he tapped his forehead. "But now I don't mind giving you that card. It may be no good, and it may help you. If it does I'll be glad of it. I owe you a good turn. That was one of my steers that broke away, and I'm glad it didn't cause a freight wreck."
"I'll take good care of this," said Jack, as he put the card in his pocket, "and send it back to you."
"Well, if you find Tevis, just do as he says about it," the cattleman answered. "Now I'll drive you back to the city."
Jack was much pleased at getting the card. He felt it would help him in his strange quest after his father.
"It will be additional evidence, for us" he said to John. "Mr. Tevis might think the rings were spurious."
"Not much danger of that," the Indian answered. "Still, the card may come in handy."
Mr. Liggins drove the boys to the hotel where they were to stay over night. They consulted the time-tables in the lobby, and learned that their train did not leave until the next afternoon.
"Now for a good night's sleep," said Jack, as he and his chums were being taken up in the elevator to their rooms that night. At the sound of the lad's voice a tall, dark man, in the corner of the car started. Then, as he caught a glimpse of the boys' faces, he turned so his own was in the shadow.
"Well, well, luck has certainly turned things my way," he murmured.
"Here's where I get even for the trick they played me on the train."
Little imagining they were menaced by one who felt himself their enemy, the three chums went to their rooms, which adjoined.
"Very good," whispered the dark man, who had remained in the corridor as the boys walked it. "I think I will pay you a visit to-night."
CHAPTER XIX
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
The boys were so tired from their day's adventures, and their travel that they did not need a bit of paregoric to make them sleep, as Nat expressed it, while he was undressing. They left the connecting doors open between their rooms, and, after putting their money and valuables under their pillows, soon fell into deep slumbers.
It was about two o'clock in the morning when a dark figure stole along the corridor and came to a halt outside the door leading to Jack's room.
"Doesn't make much difference which one I go in, I s'pose," was a whispered comment from the man, who was the same that had ridden up with the boys in the elevator.
There was a slight clicking about the lock. Then something snapped.
"No go that time," whispered the man. "Try another key."
He selected one from among a bunch he held in his hand, and inserted it in the lock of the door leading to Jack's room. This time there was a different sort of click,
"That's the time I did it," the intruder remarked softly. "Now to see if I can't get some of the money they made me lose on that other deal."
Cautiously the man pushed open the door a few inches. It did not squeak, but, even when he had ascertained this, the thief did not enter at once. He paused, listening to the breathing of the three boys.
"Sound asleep," he muttered. "No trouble. This is easy."
On tiptoes he entered the room. The lights were all out but enough illumination came in from the street lights through the windows, to enable the intruder to see dimly. He noted that the connecting doors were open.
"Easier than I thought," he muttered. "Now if they're like other travelers they have everything under their pillows. If they only knew that is the easiest place to get anything from! Pillows are so soft, and you can get your hand under one without waking up the slightest sleeper, if you go slow and careful."
Up to the bedside of Jack the man stole. At every other step he stopped to listen. He moved as silently as a cat.
"I fancy the laugh will be on the other side this trip," the man murmured. "I ought to get considerable from all three of them."
By this time he had come so near to where Jack was sleeping that he could put out his hand and touch the bed. An instant later his fingers were gliding under the pillow. They grasped a leather pocketbook. Had it been light enough a smile of satisfaction could have been seen on the face of the thief in the night.
"Number one," he remarked in a soft whisper.
He moved into the next room, taking care not to stumble over a chair or stool. He easily secured Nat's valuables, and then ventured into John's apartment.
"Ten minutes more and I'm through," the burglar thought.
When he got to John's bedside, he listened for a few seconds. The Indian student could be heard breathing in his slumbers, but at the sound the man hesitated.
"A slight sleeper," was his unspoken comment. "Liable to wake up on the slightest alarm. I've got to be careful."
His trained observance, despite the evil purpose to which it was put, had at once told the intruder that John was a light and nervous slumberer. Nevertheless the thief decided to risk it. He moved his hand, inch by inch, under John's pillow. A shadow would have made no more noise. It took him nearly twice as long as it had to get the pocketbooks from Nat and Jack, but at length he was successful. Holding the three in his hand he made his way to the door whence he had entered.
"I think I'll just take a look at what sort of a haul I made, before I leave here," the man said. "No use carting a lot of useless stuff away."
There was a dim light burning in the hall, nearly opposite Jack's door. Half concealed by the portal the man paused just within the room and looked over the contents of the pocketbooks.
"Plenty of bills," he observed.
He took the money out and made it into one roll, and this he held in his hand. Rapidly he went through the other compartments of the wallets. He came across the queer card which Mr. Liggins had given Jack.
"Might as well take that along," he said to himself. "No telling what it is, but it might come in handy. I might want to pretend I belonged to the order, for it looks like a lodge emblem. I'll stow that away."
The thief laid the wallets and the money down on the floor, while he reached in a pocket to get a card case in which he carried his few valuables. He placed the odd bit of pasteboard inside this.
"Now to toss the wallets aside and skip with the cash," he murmured, and suiting the action to his words he began to move softly into the corridor.
It was a good thing that nature had endowed John with a nervous temperament, and had made him a light sleeper. For, at that instant, or maybe a little before, some peculiar action on the Indian's nerves conveyed a message to his brain.
It was not a clear and definite sort of message, in fact it was rather confused—in the same shape as a dream. John seemed to be riding a big cow pony down a steep incline, after a big buffalo on whose back sat a dark, smooth-shaven man. The same man, John thought in his dream, he had seen in the elevator that evening.
And while John was riding for dear life after the buffalo, he thought he saw the strange man turn back and go to where the three boys had left their coats on the grassy bank of Lake Rudmore. John fancied he gave up his pursuit of the buffalo to leap off and run to where the thief was stealing his own and his comrades' possessions.
The shock of leaping from the back of a swiftly running pony, and rolling head over heals as a result, awoke John, or, rather, the peculiar action of his dream did. He sat up in bed with a jump, just in time to see the thief putting the money into his pocket, and, with the three wallets, steal out into the corridor.
It must have been the continuance of the dream that made John act so quickly. He leaped out of bed, half asleep as he was, and, with a yell that sounded enough like an Indian warwhoop to startle his two companions, he made a dash for the man.
Out of the room and down the dimly lighted hall dashed the Indian student. Before him fled the thief.
"Stop!" yelled John.
"What's the matter?" cried Jack, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Is the place on fire?"
"What's the matter? Have we missed the train?" Nat demanded to know.
"Thieves!" was all John replied.
By this time several guests of the hotel had awakened and there were anxious inquiries as to what was going on. The thief sped down the long corridor, with John, clad only in his nightdress, after him. The fellow tossed the wallets down, but the flat way in which they fell told John the intruder had taken their most valuable contents from them.
Well for the Indian that he was a fleet runner. Few there were who could have distanced him, and certainly the rascal who was out of training in athletic lines could not. A few more strides, and John grabbed the man by the coat.
"Now I've got you!" the Indian shouted.
A moment later the two went down in a heap, the man's legs having slipped from under him. But, even in the fall, John did not let go his hold. The man kept one hand in his pocket. In the flickering gaslight the Indian saw this, and rightly guessed that there the money was.
Quick as a flash John slipped his hand in and found the man was grasping something tightly.
"Let go!" the fellow growled.
"Not much!" exclaimed John. "I'm after our money!"
"I'll—I'll—cut you!" panted the thief.
"Police! Murder! Fire!" yelled a woman outside of whose door the desperate struggle was now going on.
With a great effort John loosened the hand that clenched the money. Then the Indian drew out the bills. The thief tried to grab them back. As he did so John tried to get up, having accomplished the main part of his purpose, that of saving his own and his chums' money. But, as he did so, the thief gave a roll, to get on top. This brought him to the edge of a flight of stairs, and, a second later the two were rolling down.
Bump! Bump! Bump! they went until they reached a landing. John's head struck the baseboard, and, for a moment he was stunned. There was a rush of feet in the corridor above.
"Hold him! We're coming!" was the cry.
John heard dimly. Then a blackness seemed to come over him. The lights faded away. He just remembered thrusting his hand containing the bills into his pocket, and then he fainted away.
The thief, with nimble feet, was half way down the second flight of stairs by now, for, finding the hold of his captor loosened, he made the best of his opportunity.
"Have you got him, John?" yelled Jack.
"Hold him until I come!" shouted Nat.
They had both run out into the hallway in time to see John pursuing the thief. They reached the top of the stairs just as the fellow fled.
The thief, as he ran down the stairs, cast up one look. Jack Ranger saw him, the light from a gas jet in the lower corridor shining full on the man's face.
"Professor Punjab! Hemp Smith!" exclaimed Jack, as he recognized the fakir who called himself Marinello Booghoobally.
"Did he get away?" asked Nat, coming up just then.
"Yes, and I guess he's killed John," said Jack, his heart failing him.
CHAPTER XX
A STRANGE SEANCE
By this time the corridors, above and below were filled with excited men, all scantily attired. Nat and Jack ran to where John was lying on the landing, and lifted his head.
"I'm all right," exclaimed the Indian, as he opened his eyes. "Got a bad one on the head, that's all. I can walk."
He proceeded to demonstrate this by standing up and mounting the stairs.
"Did he get our money?" asked Nat.
In answer John showed the roll he still held tightly clenched in his hand.
"Here are some pocketbooks," called a man from the upper hall.
"Then we're all right, after all," spoke Jack. "Money and pocketbooks safe. How did it happen? How did you land on him, John?"
"He was in our room," replied the Indian. "I woke up and saw him.
Then I chased out, that's all."
The man who had picked up the pocketbooks handed them to Jack. The boy saw his own on top, and opened it, as he had a number of souvenirs and keepsakes in it. As he glanced in he uttered a cry of surprise.
"The card Mr. Liggins gave me to present to Mr. Tevis is gone!" he exclaimed. "Here! We must catch Professor Punjab! He has my card. Come on!"
Jack was about to rush down the stairs but was stopped by several of the men.
"You can't catch him," they said. "Besides, the police may have him by now. Go back and get dressed."
The boys decided this was good advice, particularly as they were getting chilled, for the halls were draughty. They donned some clothes, and were all ready when several bluecoats and a number of detectives in plain clothes arrived.
"Where'd they get in?" asked a big man, with a very black moustache.
"Let's see what sort of a job it was."
"Right in here," said the hotel manager, leading the way to where the boys roomed. "From all accounts this was the only place he broke into."
"Didn't really lose anything, did you?" asked the black-moustached one of the boys.
"He got a valuable card," said Jack. "I would not like to lose it."
"What do you mean, a playing card; one you carried for luck?"
"No, I don't carry such things for luck," replied Jack. "It had a message on it."
He described the queer bit of pasteboard Mr, Liggins had given him.
"Oh I see; it was a sort of charm," interposed the detective with the light moustache.
"Well, we'll make a round of the pawnshops tomorrow. Maybe we'll locate it."
"I don't believe so," said Jack, half to himself. "It's not a thing that would be pawned."
The boy felt that Professor Punjab would be very likely to keep the card, thinking it might be some mysterious talisman, which could be used to advantage in his peculiar line of work. So Jack had little faith in what the detective said.
There was nothing more for the police or detectives to do. No trace of the thief was to be found, and, after a general look around, the officers departed and the hotel settled down to normal quietness. The boys went back to bed, but it was some time before they fell asleep.
Jack dozed uneasily, wondering how he was going to regain possession of the card which Professor Punjab had stolen.
"You ought to be thankful it wasn't our money, which it would have been, only for John," said Nat next morning. "Penetrating peanuts! When I think of what might have happened I shudder," and he gave an imitation of a cold chill running down his back.
"It's bad enough," said Jack. "Of course we need the money, but we could get more on a pinch. We can't get another card like that, though, and we may need it very much. At least I will."
"Let's go to the police and make them find it," suggested Nat.
"They'll never find it," put in John, who sat in a chair with his head bandaged. "We'll have to depend on ourselves."
The robbery, and John's slight wound, necessitated a change in their plans. They wired to Mr. Kent, Nat's uncle, that they would be delayed. Then they arranged to stay several days in Chicago.
The hotel proprietor insisted on sending a physician, to see the Indian. The medical man prescribed a rest, and, while John stayed in his room his chums paid several visits to the police. Jack impressed them with the value of the card, and the detectives really made efforts to find it, and to arrest the "professor," but without result.
One evening, as Jack and Nat came back from a visit to police headquarters, they found John much excited.
"I think I'm on the right track," he said.
"How?" asked Jack.
"Listen to this" John went on, holding up a newspaper, and he read:
"Attention, all who suffer or are in distress. Professor Ali Baba, one of the descendants of the Forty Thieves, who has devoted his life to undoing the wrong they did, will give palm readings, star gazings, trance answers, locate the lost, and, by a method learned from an Indian Yogi, double your money. Readings one dollar up."
"You're not going to be taken in by one of those foolish clairvoyants, are you?" asked Jack.
"Not exactly," said John. "But if I am right I think this Professor
Ali Baba is Hemp Smith, or Professor Punjab under another name."
"What makes you think so?" inquired Nat. "Rip-snorting radiators! But if it should be!"
"That last clause about doubling your money, by the Indian method leads me to believe it," said John. "That is how Punjab tried to rob Mr. Post. Now I'm going to try this and see what it amounts to."
"But he'll know you as soon as he sees you," objected Nat.
"Not the way I fix up," replied the Indian.
The boys talked over the plan, and agreed it would do no harm for John to attend a seance of the professor, whose address was given in the advertisement.
[Illutsration: Give me the card!—Page 177]
John's best friend would hardly have known him as he sallied forth the next day. He wore the bandages on his head, which was cut by his fracas with the fake professor, and, in addition, he had tied one about his jaw, as though he had the toothache.
He had no difficulty in finding the place. Outside the door was a sign reading:
PROFESSOR ALI BABA. SCIENTIST.
John was admitted by a rather slick individual, in a shining, greasy suit of black.
"The professor is busy just now," he said. "He will see you soon. Meanwhile you had better give me a dollar, and state on which particular line you wish to consult him."
John handed over a two dollar bill and said:
"Tell him to make it extra strong. I have lost a valuable article."
"I am sure he can find it for you," the sleek man said. "The professor has wonderful success."
"Well he oughtn't to have much trouble finding this if he's the man I take him for," thought John. As yet he was all at sea. He wanted to get a glimpse of Professor Ali Baba.
At last his turn came. Carefully keeping his face concealed, John was shown into a room gaudily decorated with tinsel and cheap hangings.
"Who seeks the knowledge the stars alone possess?" asked a deep voice.
Jack started. He recognized at once the tones of the recent Professor Punjab. An instant later he had a glimpse of the pretended astrologer's face and knew he could not be mistaken.
"Draw near," said the fakir. "I know what thou seekest. It is that which thou hast lost, and it is more precious to thee than rubies."
"In this particular instance it is," thought John, but he did not answer at once, as he was so excited he could hardly control his voice. He did not want the swindler to recognize him.
"Tell me but the veriest outline of that which thou seekest and I will not only describe it, but tell you where you may find it, if the stars so will," Punjab went on.
"It is very difficult," said John, speaking in a sort of whisper. He wanted to gain a little time, to think best how to proceed. He had been more successful than he dared to hope. His reasoning had been exactly right. Now he wanted to make sure of success.
"No problem is too hard for those who read their answers in the stars," replied the fakir. "Describe what you have lost."
"It is square," said John, slowly, and he drew a little closer to where the pretended astrologer sat on a divan in the midst of hangings, which let but little light into the room.
"Yes, square."
"And flat."
"Yes. Now one more little detail. I begin to see a glimmering of it before me," and Professor Ali Baba pretended to go into a trance.
"It is white with black markings on it," John went on. "In fact it is something you have right here in this house."
"What's that?" fairly shouted the professor.
"It's that card you stole from Jack Ranger!" went on John, coming close to the fakir and gripping him by the wrists. "The card you took from his pocketbook the night you broke into our rooms. I want it back! Give it up, you scoundrel, or I'll call in the police."
"Let go!" yelled the professor.
"Give me the card!" shouted the Indian, struggling to hold the man, who was trying to break away.
"Help!" cried the professor.
The curtains parted and the man who had answered John's summons at the door entered.
CHAPTER XXI
FINDING ORION TEVIS
"What's the matter?" exclaimed the slick individual.
"He's trying to rob me!" shouted the fakir.
"It's the other way around!" came from John. "I'm trying to get back something he stole from a friend of mine. Give up that card, you rascal, or I'll yell for the police!"
At the same time the Indian youth, who was strong for his age, gave the wrists of Punjab such a wrench that the man cried out in pain. Whether it was this, or the knowledge that he could not afford to have a clash with the officers of the law John never decided, but the professor muttered:
"I'll give you the card. Let go!"
"Want any help?" asked the sleek and shiny individual.
"Don't you interfere!" exclaimed John, "or I'll have you arrested too. Better keep out of this. The professor knows when he's beaten."
"Let go of me," muttered the fakir.
"Where's the card?" asked John.
"It's in my pocket, but I can't get it while you hold my hands," the pretended astrologer said.
The Indian youth released his grip, but kept close watch of the professor. The latter lifted up the gaudy robe and disclosed underneath ordinary street clothing. He reached into an inner pocket and brought out the card.
"That's it!" cried John, grabbing it before the professor had a chance to play any more tricks. "That's what I want!"
"Now you've got it, you'd better get out of my house," said Punjab, trying to assume his dignity which John had sadly ruffled.
"Only too glad to," the Indian student said, and, carrying the precious card in his hand he hurried from the place, throwing aside his bandages as he did so.
"I'll get even with you boys yet," he heard Marinello Booghoobally, alias Hemp Smith, alias Professor Punjab, alias Ali Baba, call after him. But John was not worried over this and soon was back at the hotel where his companions anxiously waited him.
"Any luck?" asked Jack.
"The best," replied John, and he told them all that had happened from the time he entered Ali Baba's place until he secured the card, which, he had turned over to Jack as soon as he got in. The police were notified, but the fakir was too quick for them and escaped.
"Now we'd better go straight for Denver," said Nat. "We're behind in our schedule now, and maybe my uncle will not wait for us."
John and Jack thought this a good scheme, so, having settled their hotel bill, they were soon aboard a train again, and speeding westward. They made good time, in spite of a few delays by slight accidents, and arrived in Denver at night.
"It's too late to go to the Capital Bank," said Jack. "Wish we'd have gotten in earlier. But we'll make inquiries about Orion Tevis the first thing in the morning."
Long before the bank opened the boys had inquired their way to it from the hotel where they stopped. As soon as the doors were swung, to indicate that business might be transacted, Jack led the way into the marble-tiled corridor of the institution.
"Who do you want to see?" asked a uniformed porter.
"The president," said Jack boldly, thinking it best to begin at the top, and work down if necessary.
"Want to deposit a million dollars I s'pose," the porter said with a sort of sneer. Evidently his breakfast had not agreed with him.
"I came here to inquire for the address of Mr. Orion Tevis," replied Jack sharply, and in a loud tone, for he did not like to be made fun of. "If the president is not the proper person to ask will you kindly tell me who is?"
"What's that?" asked a gray-haired man, peering out from a private office.
"I am seeking the address of Mr. Orion Tevis," repeated Jack.
"Step right in here," the elderly man said. "Johnson, you may go down into the basement and finish your work," he added to the porter who hurried away, probably feeling as though he had grown several inches shorter.
"Now what is this about Mr. Tevis?" asked the man. "I am Mr. Snell, cashier of the bank."
"I want to find Mr. Tevis, in order to ask him if he knows the whereabouts of a certain person in whom I am interested," said Jack.
"Are you a private detective?" asked Mr. Snell, with a smile.
"No sir, I'm Jack Ranger, from Denton, and these are friends of mine," and Jack mentioned their names.
"Well, suppose I say we haven't Mr. Tevis's address," spoke Mr.
Snell.
"I was told it could be obtained here," Jack insisted.
"If it could be, under certain conditions, are you able to fulfill those conditions?" asked the cashier.
"If you mean this, yes," replied Jack, showing his queer ring.
"Where did you get that?" asked Mr, Snell
"It's a long story," Jack said. "The last time I got it was when I recovered it from a burglar. But we have another. Show him yours, John."
The Indian student exhibited the odd gold emblem with the pine tree tracing on the moss agate. Mr. Snell looked at both circlets critically without saying anything. He glanced at the lettering inside.
"I don't believe I am in a position to give you Mr. Tevis's address," he said slowly.
"What?" cried Jack. "After all our journey."
"Show him the card," said John, in a whisper.
Jack pulled from his pocket the curious bit of cardboard he had secured from Mr. Liggins. At the sight of it the cashier uttered an exclamation. He got up and closed the door leading to the bank corridor.
"That settles it!" he exclaimed. "Your credentials are all right.
Wait a minute."
He pressed a button on his desk. A short, stockily built man entered the room.
"Perkins, you may feed the red cow," the cashier said gravely.
"Yes sir," replied Perkins, as calmly as though he had been told to hand over the city directory.
"And whisper to her that the goats have come," the cashier went on, at which Perkins turned and left the room.
"Now boys I am ready for you," said Mr. Snell, and Jack related as much of the matter as he thought might have a bearing on his search.
"I can give you Mr. Tevis's address," the cashier went on. "You must excuse my caution, but, as you doubtless know, there have been strange doings in connection with that land deal. So you are Jack Ranger?"
"That's me. But now where can I find Orion Tevis and learn where my father is?"
"I'm afraid you're going to have trouble," Mr. Snell went on. "All we know is that Mr. Tevis lives somewhere on a wild tract of land among the mountains about one hundred miles from Fillmore."
"Fillmore, that's where we have to go to get to Denville," said Nat
"So it is," Jack murmured.
"You see Mr. Tevis is a rather peculiar individual and surrounds himself with many safeguards," Mr. Snell went on. "We were only to give his address to those who brought the rings and the card. I was at first afraid you were impostors, as there have been several such. We are also required to send Mr. Tevis word as soon as any one comes here, bearing the proper emblems, and seeking him. You heard what I said to that man a while ago. It was a code message to be transmitted to Mr. Tevis."
"But if you know where to send him a message, why can't you tell us how to reach him?" asked Jack.
"I can tell you as much as we ourselves know. We send the messages to a certain man living in Fillmore. He, in turn, rides off into the mountains and, from what I have heard, leaves the letter in the cleft of an old tree, of which he alone knows the location. Then he comes away. In time Mr. Tevis, or some of his men, come and get the letter. If he wishes to send an answer he leaves it in the tree. If not that ends the matter. If he wishes to remain hidden he does so. He seldom comes to town, and has only been at this bank once in a number of years. Now, don't you think you have a pretty hard task ahead of you?"
"Will you tell me how to find this man in Fillmore, who knows how to take that letter?" asked Jack.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Snell. "That's the way to talk. I sized you up for a plucky lad as soon as I saw you. Now if you will take pencil and paper, I'll give you directions for reaching Enos Hardy, who may succeed in getting a message to Mr. Tevis for you."
Jack jotted down what Mr. Snell told him, and, at his suggestion, the other two boys made copies, in case of accident. Then, having cashed some letters of credit which they brought with them, the boys went back to their hotel.
"What are you going to do, Jack?" asked Nat.
"I'm going to find Orion Tevis," was the reply. "I think I had better do it before I go on to your uncle's ranch, Nat. What do you say?"
"Slippery snapping turtles!" exclaimed Nat. "If I was you I'd do the same thing. You ought to make that hundred miles and back in a week, and we can go to uncle's ranch then. We'll go with you; eh, John?"
"Sure," replied the Indian.
"Let's hurry on to Fillmore," Nat went on. "If my uncle is there waiting for us, we can tell him all about it. If not we can send him a letter, telling him where we are going, and letting him know about what time we'll be back. It's only twenty miles from Fillmore to Denville, near where his ranch is."
This plan was voted a good one, and as soon as the boys could catch a train out of Denver they were speeding toward what was to be the last railroad station of their long western trip.
They were two days reaching it, owing to the poor connections, because they were now traveling on branch line railroads, but they got into the little mining town one evening at dusk. So explicit were the directions Mr. Snell had given them that they had no difficulty in reaching the Eagle Hotel, where the cashier had advised them to put up. They registered, and, in accordance with their directions, left a note with the hotel clerk for Enos Hardy.
"He'll be in some time to-night," the clerk said. "He comes here every evening."
It was about nine o'clock that night when a message came to the boys' room that Mr. Hardy would see them in the sitting room of the hotel. Jack went down alone, and found waiting for him a grizzly, heavily- bearded man, rather stoop-shouldered. He glanced from under his shaggy eyebrows at Jack.
"You left a message for Enos Hardy?" the man asked.
"I did, in reference to Orion Tevis," admitted Jack.
"Have you the emblems?"
Jack showed the rings and card.
"Um!" grunted the man. "What do you want?"
"I want to see Orion Tevis, and ask him about my father."
"It will take me three days to bring you an answer," Mr. Hardy went on. "Will you wait here until then?"
Jack bowed his assent.
"You must trust the rings and card to me," Mr. Hardy went on. "Oh, they will be safe," he added, as he saw Jack give a start of surprise. "You can ask any one in Fillmore about me."
Without a word Jack handed over the two rings and the bit of pasteboard.
"This is Tuesday," the strange messenger went on. "I will be back here with an answer Friday night."
"Then I can start for Mr. Tevis's place the next day," spoke Jack.
"If the answer is favorable," Mr. Hardy said, as he left the room.
CHAPTER XXII
JACK HEARS OF HIS FATHER
For a few moments Jack stood looking at the door that had closed on Mr. Hardy. The man seemed a link between the boy and his long-lost father, and Jack felt as if he would not like to allow Mr. Tevis's confidant to be out of his sight. But he reflected if he was to see the man who held his father's secret he must follow out the line laid down.
He went to where he had left Nat and John, and told them what had happened. Jack announced anticipation of a favorable reply from Mr. Tevis, who, he said, would, no doubt, keep his promise made years ago to those to whom he had presented the rings.
"Then we'll get ready to go with you," announced Nat. "Hopping halibut! I forgot to write to my uncle. I heard from the hotel clerk he had waited here for us two days, and then went back, leaving word we could come on to the ranch, or wait for him. He'll be back inside of a week."
"That fits into our plans," Jack said. "Write and tell him we arrived and will be ready to go with him a week from to-day, I think I can learn what I want in that time."
Accordingly Nat got a letter ready, and intrusted it to the hotel clerk, who promised to send it to Double B ranch at the first opportunity. Mr. Kent's ranch was known by the device of two capital B's, one placed backwards in front of the other, and this brand appeared on all his cattle. His uncle's place, Nat learned, was on a big plateau in the midst of a mountain range. Men from it frequently rode into Fillmore, and it was by one of them the hotel clerk proposed sending the boy's letter to Mr. Kent.
This done, the three chums sat in their rooms discussing the strange things that had come to pass since they had left Washington Hall.
"Seems as if it was several months, instead of a couple of weeks," said John. "I'll be glad when we get out where it's good and wild."
The boys found much to occupy their time in the hustling city of Denver. They went about viewing the sights, but all the while Jack was impatiently awaiting the return of Mr. Hardy.
"I wonder if the days are any longer here than back east," he remarked.
"It's you," replied Nat. "Stop thinking about it, and Friday night will come sooner."
"Can't help it," Jack went on, with a deep sigh.
Friday night came at last, though it was nearly ten o'clock before
Jack, who was anxiously waiting in his room, received a message that
some one wanted to see him. He went down and was met by Mr. Hardy.
The man showed the dust and grime of travel.
"Well?" asked Jack.
"When do you want to start?" asked Mr. Hardy.
"To-morrow morning," was Jack's quick reply, and a load was lifted from his mind.
"Then I'll have a horse for you here at nine o'clock," Mr. Tevis's friend went on, as he handed back the rings and the card.
"Can't John and Nat go along?" inquired Jack, for he had mentioned his friends to Mr. Hardy.
"I suppose so," was the answer. "It will take longer if so many of us go, but I have no orders to keep your friends back if they want to accompany us. It's a wild trip, and has to be made on horseback."
"They'll want to go. None of us is a good rider, but we'll do our best"
"Very well, I'll have three horses."
"Do you think Mr. Tevis will have some news of my father?" asked
Jack, a note of anxiety coming into his voice.
"I shouldn't be surprised," was the cautious answer. "Mr. Tevis can generally be depended on to produce the goods. Now I'll leave you, as I have lots of work to do before morning. I'm glad I succeeded in arranging it for you,"
"So am I," exclaimed Jack, as he held out his hand and met that of
Mr. Hardy's in hearty clasp.
"Can you two stand a hundred mile ride on horseback?" asked Jack of his two chums, when he was back in his room.
"Two if necessary," replied John.
"And two it will have to be," Jack went on. "I forgot it's a hundred each way. Well, we're in for it," and he explained what Mr. Hardy had told him.
The horses which Mr. Tevis's messenger brought around the next morning proved to be steady-going animals. Their backs were broad and they carried easy-riding saddles. Under the direction of the guide the boys packed up some blankets and enough "grub," to last several days, since they could not expect to make as good time as had Mr. Hardy. Leaving their trunks and grips at the hotel the boys, with their new-found friend in the lead, started for Mr. Tevis's mountain home.
"He's a strange man," said Mr, Hardy, as he rode along by Jack's side a little later. "He had so much trouble with a band of bad men once that he made up his mind he would have no more. He knows the gang is still trying to get the best of him, and that's why he takes so many precautions. It is the same ugly crowd that made your father an exile, I understand."
"But his exile is almost up," said Jack earnestly. "The eleven years will pass this summer, and he can come back to us."
"If you can only find him to get word to him."
"Do you think I can't find him?"
"Well, the mountains are a wild place. It's hard enough to keep track of men who have no motive for hiding, let alone those who believe every effort to locate them is made with an idea of doing them some harm."
"If I can only get word to him I know my father will wander no longer. I need him and he needs me."
Half a day's riding brought them to a wild part of the country. The trail was a narrow one. Now it led along a high range of foothills, skirting some deep ravine. Again it was down in a valley, along the course of some mountain stream that was now almost dry.
The bracing atmosphere, though it was so rarefied that the boys, at first, found a little difficulty in breathing, made objects seem strangely near. Several times Jack and his companions saw a distant landmark, and wondered why they were so long in reaching it. Mr. Hardy laughed at their astonishment as he explained the reason for the seeming nearness.
They had dinner on the side of a mountain which they had begun to ascend shortly before noon. Mr. Hardy proved himself an old campaigner. He had a fire made, and bacon frying before the boys had the stiffness from their legs, caused by their ride. Then, with bread and coffee, they made a better meal than they had partaken of in many a hotel.
That night they slept in a lonely mountain cabin, the owner of which Mr. Hardy knew. They pressed on the next morning, their pace being slow because Nat found he could not ride as well as he had hoped.
"Galloping gooseberries!" he exclaimed. "I feel as if all my bones were loose. You didn't see any of 'em scattered back along the trail, did you, Jack?"
"You'll get over it," said Mr. Hardy. "Got to learn to ride if you're going on a ranch. No one walks there."
They had to sleep in the open the next night, but Mr. Hardy built a big fire, and, well wrapped in their blankets, the boys were not uncomfortable, even though it was cold on the mountain from the time the sun went down.
It was cold, too, the next morning, as they crawled from their warm coverings, but when their guide had thrown a lot of wood on the glowing embers, causing them to spring into a fine blaze, the boys got up and helped prepare breakfast.
"We're almost there," said Mr. Hardy, as they mounted their horses to resume their trip.
They rode until shortly before noon, when Mr. Hardy suddenly pulled his horse up and said:
"Here's as far as we can go, boys, until we get word from Mr. Tevis. There's the tree where I leave the messages." He pointed to a big oak that had been struck by lightning, and split partly down the immense trunk. One blackened branch stuck up. It had a cleft in it, in which a letter could be placed and seen from afar.
"Now I'll just leave a note there, and we'll have to be guided by what happens," Mr. Hardy went on.
He wrote something on a piece of paper, and asked Jack for the rings and the card symbol. These, with the message he had written, he placed in an envelope. The letter was enclosed in a bit of oiled silk, and the whole deposited in the cleft of the limb.
"It might rain before it is taken away," he explained. "You can never tell when Mr. Tevis or his messengers come. He can see that letter from his house, by using a telescope, but he may not send for it. It all depends."
"How will you know if he does?" asked Jack.
"I will come back here to-morrow at noon," replied the guide. "If there is an answer, there will be a little white flag where the letter was, Then I will know what to do."
There was nothing to do but wait. Mr. Hardy explained that it was necessary that they move back down the mountain, a mile or more away from the signal tree. To Jack and his chums this seemed a lot of needless precaution, but they were in no position to do anything different.
Jack passed the night in uneasy slumber, for he could not help thinking of what the morrow might bring and what effect it might have on his search for his father. But all things have an end, and morning finally came. After breakfast Mr. Hardy looked well to the saddle girths, as he said, if they were to go further on their journey, they would have to proceed over a rougher road than any they had yet traversed.
They started for the blighted oak so as to reach there about noon. How anxiously did Jack peer ahead for a sight of the lightning- blasted tree, in order to catch the first glimpse of the white flag he hoped to see! He was so impatient that Mr. Hardy had to caution him not to ride too fast. But in spite of this the boy kept pressing his horse forward. As the little cavalcade turned around a bend in the trail Jack cried out:
"I see it! There's the white flag! Now we can go on and hear the news of my father!"
"Don't be too sure," muttered Mr. Hardy. "It may be a message saying there is no news," but he did not tell Jack this.
The sun was just crossing the zenith when Mr. Hardy took from the cleft of the branch a small packet wrapped in oiled silk, similar to the one he had left. Quickly tearing off the wrapping the guide disclosed a piece of white paper. On It was but one word:
"Come."
"Hurrah!" yelled Jack, throwing his hat into the air, and nearly losing his balance recovering it.
"Walloping washtubs!" yelled Nat.
"Let's hurry on," spoke John Smith, more quietly. But he, too, felt the excitement of the moment, only he was used to repressing his feelings.
"Prepare for a hard ride," said Mr. Hardy. "We must make Mr. Tevis's place by night, as it is dangerous to camp in the open around here. Too many wild beasts."
From the blasted oak the trail led in winding paths up the mountain. It was indeed a hard one. Great boulders blocked the path, and there were places where rains had washed out big gullies. But the horses seemed used to such traveling, for they scrambled along like goats on a rocky cliff.
It was just getting dusk when, as they topped a considerable rise, Mr. Hardy pointed ahead to where a light glimmered on the side of the mountain, and said:
"There is Mr. Tevis's house."
Jack's heart gave a mighty thump. At last he was at one of the important stages of his long trip. As the riders advanced there came, from out of the fast gathering darkness a command:
"Halt! Who comes?"
"Friends!" exclaimed Mr. Hardy.
"What word have you?"
"Pine tree and moss agate," was the answer.
"You may enter," the unseen speaker added.
There was the sound of a heavy gate swinging open, and following their guide the boys urged their horses ahead. They found themselves on a well-made road, which led to a fairly large house.
"Dismount," said Mr. Hardy, as he brought his steed to a halt in front of a large piazza that surrounded the residence. "We are here at last."
As he spoke the door opened, sending out a stream of brilliant light.
In the center of the radiance stood a tall man, looking out.
"Good evening, Mr. Tevis," spoke Mr. Hardy.
"Ah, Enos, so you have arrived. And did you bring the boys with you?"
"All three, sir."
"Very good. Come in. Supper is ready."
Jack sprang from his horse and, with a bound was on the porch beside the man he had come so far to see.
"Mr. Tevis!" he exclaimed, "Have you any news of my father? Is he alive? Can you tell me where to find him?"
"Yes, to all three questions, Jack Ranger," said Mr. Tevis, heartily, and Jack felt his heart thumping against his ribs as though it would leap out.