CHAPTER XXIII
ON THE RANCH
Some men came up and led the horses of the riders to a stable in the rear. Mr. Tevis showed the way into his house. It was a big log cabin, but was furnished with many comforts. On the floors were great bear rugs, while skulls and horns of other animals decorated the walls. The light came from two big kerosene hanging lamps.
"Welcome to Cabin Lodge," said Mr. Tevis.
"I hope you are all hungry, as we have a fine supper waiting for you."
"That's what I want," said Mr. Hardy. "We haven't stopped much for grub since we started."
"I'd like to hear more about my father, before I eat," said Jack.
"I realize your impatience," Mr. Tevis replied, with a smile, "and I'll endeavor to relieve your mind. I will tell you what I know while the others are getting ready for the meal."
Then Mr. Tevis told briefly the history of Robert Ranger, or Roberts, as he best knew him, with the main facts of which Jack was familiar. He told of his acquaintance with him and John Smith's father, and how the bad men had tried unsuccessfully to get control of the timber claim. Jack found him a peculiar man indeed, but seemingly good hearted.
"But what you want to know," Mr. Tevis went on, "is how to find your father now."
Jack nodded eagerly.
"Of course you know I have not seen him in a long time, as he did not think it wise to come here, fearing the gang would capture him and get him into court. But I have heard from him, not later than three months ago."
"Where is he?" asked Jack, hardly able to sit still.
"While I can't say exactly," Mr. Tevis went on, "I know he is somewhere in a small range of mountains called Golden Glow. He has a small cabin there, and manages to make a living by doing some mining. He has one companion, whom he can trust, and who goes back to civilization once in a while to get food and supplies. Your father will not trust himself in sight of a town. In fact it is almost as hard to communicate with him as it is with me."
"Where are the Golden Glow mountains?" asked Jack.
"The nearest town is Denville," was the answer.
"Denville!" exclaimed Jack.
"Yes, what is there strange in that?"
"Why, we are going to Denville," Jack replied, "That's where Nat's uncle's ranch is."
"Yes, but the beginning of the Golden Glow mountain range is about a hundred miles from there," Mr. Tevis added.
"What's a hundred miles when I'm going to find my father and take him back home with me?" asked Jack. "I can travel that."
"You've got pluck," spoke Mr. Tevis. "I wish you luck, my boy."
Then he told all the particulars he knew of Mr. Roberts' whereabouts, how the exile had often written to him of his lonely life, and how much he would like to see his son and his sisters again.
"We have both been hounded by that gang of land sharps," concluded Mr. Tevis, with a deep sigh. "I have found means of evading them by living in this wild place, and adopting all sorts of precautions in admitting visitors. That is why I was so careful on your account. I could not tell who might be trying to play a trick on me. But I devised that card for a few of my friends. Lucky you met Lem Liggins, or I doubt if even the sight of the two rings would have convinced me. But I felt reasonably certain no one could have both the card and the rings. Even at that you saw how cautious I am, by the details Mr. Hardy had to go through."
"How would you advise me to reach my father, and let him know it is safe to return?" asked Jack.
Mr. Tevis paused a moment. He remained in deep thought for some time.
Then he spoke.
"In one of his letters," he said, "your father told me if I ever wanted to see him, to adopt this plan. There is in the Golden Glow range one peak, higher than all the others. From a certain place in it, a place marked by a big stone on which is carved a cross, a tall pine tree, bare of branches, can be seen. By keeping down the side of the slope, and in direct line with the pine you will come to a little valley. At the lower end of this is your father's cabin. Only be careful how you approach it. In this country men sometimes shoot first and inquire afterward."
"How will I know the high peak when I see it?" asked Jack.
"You can hardly mistake it," Mr. Tevis remarked. "But you can be sure of it, because, just at sunset, you will see it envelop in a golden glow. That is what gives the name to the mountain range. It seems there is a mass of quartz on top of the peak, and the sun, reflecting from it just before it sets, shines as if from burnished gold. I think you will have no trouble in finding the peak, and, though it may be hard, I hope you will find your father. Here, let me give you this. It may help you."
He took from his watch chain, a curious little charm. It was in the shape of a golden lizard, with ruby eyes.
"Your father gave that to me many years ago," said the timber owner. "If worst comes to worst, and you can't get to him, but can send him a message, send that. He will know it comes from me, even if he doubts the rings. It has a secret mark. Now let's go to supper."
There were many thoughts in Jack's mind and many feelings in his heart as he ate at the table at which they all gathered. He did not join in the talk and laughter that went around. Mr. Hardy told Mr. Tevis of the trip he and the three boys had made, and Nat and John added their share to the general conversation.
"What makes you so quiet?" asked Nat of his chum.
"I'm thinking of what's ahead of me," Jack replied.
Mr. Tevis wanted his guests to remain several days with him, but the boys were anxious to get on to the ranch, and decided they would start back for Fillmore the next day. That night Mr. Tevis returned to John and Jack their rings, but he kept the peculiar card.
"I will send it back to Lem," he said. "He might want to come and see me some time. I still have to be on my guard. As for you boys, keep a constant watch. There is no telling when those men may resume their tricks. They know the time set by law is almost up, and they are likely to redouble their efforts. Be on your guard, Jack."
"I will," Jack answered, and then he and his chums bade their host good-bye. Mounting their horses, and led by Mr. Hardy, they again took up the trail, and the heavy log gate was shut after them, as they left the stockade inside of which Cabin Lodge was built.
When the boys and their guide went back to the hotel in Fillmore, the return trip having been made in better time than the outgoing, there was a letter from Mr. Kent to Nat. The boy's uncle said he was so busy he had no time to come for them, but, he added, he would send one of his men with three horses which the boys could ride out to the ranch. Their trunks and baggage had been called for by one of the Double B ranchmen while they were on their way to Mr. Tevis's, so the boys had nothing to worry about but themselves.
They had arrived at the hotel about noon, and having eaten dinner, sat down to await the arrival of the man who was to escort them. He had been in town for two days, the hotel clerk said, but, at that moment, had gone to see some friends.
"I'll send him up to your room when he comes in," said the clerk, and the boys went upstairs to pack a few little articles that had not gone on with their trunks and valises.
It was while they were in the midst of that that a knock sounded on their door.
"Come in," cried Jack, all three being then in his apartment.
A tall, slightly built man, with a little light moustache, blue eyes, dressed in regulation cowboy costume, entered, holding his broad- brimmed hat in his hand.
"I'm lookin' for Nat Anderson an' his chums, Jack Ranger an' John
Smith," he announced.
"Right in here," called out Nat.
"I'm Rattlesnake Jim," announced the stranger, "and I come from
Double B ranch to show you the way."
The boys were only too anxious to get started. They paid their hotel bill, and when they got outside found there were three fine ponies waiting for them.
"Mount!" called Rattlesnake Jim.
The lads were very glad of the practice they had in riding with Mr. Hardy, for they felt their new guide was watching them closely. If he had any fault to find he did not mention it.
It was a pleasant afternoon, and, once they were out in the open country, after ascending a slight rise, the boys let their animals out. They found them plenty speedy enough.
"Not so bad for tenderfeet," muttered Rattlesnake Jim, under his breath.
The road led along a long level stretch, the big plateau extending for miles ahead of them.
"About what time will we get to my uncle's place?" asked Nat
"Grub time, I reckon," said Rattlesnake Jim, who, as the boys afterward learned, had gained his name from the hatred he bore to the reptiles.
"Very busy now?" went on Nat.
"Passably so. Been rustlin' after horse thieves for th' last few nights," replied Jim coolly.
Before the boys could get over this rather startling remark, Jack's horse suddenly shied. The lad was nearly thrown off, and, as he recovered his balance, and looked to see what had scared the animal, he saw, in the shadow of a big stone at the side of the road, an old man crawling along.
"Hold on thar, stranger!" called Rattlesnake Jim, drawing his revolver and covering the man.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE OLD MAN
"Don't shoot!" the old man begged, trying to stand up, but toppling in a heap. "Don't shoot! I haven't done anything!"
"We'll see about that," went on Jim, as he dismounted. "What are you sneaking around like that for, hiding under a rock? If it had been a little darker we wouldn't have seen you. Who are you?"
"I don't know's it any of your affair," replied the stranger sullenly, as he sat down on the ground.
"Shot, eh," remarked Jim, as he noticed that the man's left foot was covered with blood. "Now you'd better tell me all about it, before I make trouble for you."
"It was an accident," replied the man. "I was cleaning my gun. I forgot I had a shell in it, and it went off and hit my foot. It was back there, and I thought I'd crawl along until I got to some place I could get help."
"Likely story," said Jim with a sneer. "That don't go with me, stranger. You stay here and I'll send some of the men to have a look at you."
"Are you going to leave him here?" asked Jack, who had dismounted, and was walking toward the old man.
"Sure. What else can I do?"
"Let me look at his foot," went on Jack, "I know a little bit about first aid to the injured. Maybe I can bandage it up,"
"Better let him alone," advised Jim, mounting his horse again.
But Jack was bending over the man, and had already taken off his shoe, which was filled with blood. As the boy was drawing off the sock, the man caught sight of Jack's hand.
"That ring! That ring! Where did you get it?" he asked excitedly, as he caught sight of the moss agate emblem on Jack's finger. "Tell me, who are you?"
Jack looked at the man in astonishment. His words and manner indicated that some unusual emotion stirred him. For a moment he gazed at the ring and then a film seemed to come over his eyes. His head sank forward, and a second later he toppled over.
"He's dead!" exclaimed Nat.
"Only fainted, I guess," replied Rattlesnake Jim coolly. "Lost considerable blood I reckon. He's left quite a trail, anyhow," and he pointed to where a crimson streak in the grass showed that the wounded man had crawled along.
"What shall we do?" asked John. "We can't leave him here."
"Don't see what else there is to do," said Jim, as he turned his horse back into the path. "We can't carry him. Besides, he is probably only one of a horse-stealing gang, and has been shot in some foray. Better leave him alone."
"I'm not going to," declared Jack. "First I'm going to fix up his foot, and then we'll go for help."
"I guess my uncle will see that he is taken care of," spoke Nat, with all a boy's confidence in things he knows nothing about.
"Well, you can have your own way, of course," Jim said. "I'm only sent to show you the way, but if it was me I sure would leave him alone."
By this time Jack had torn several handkerchiefs into strips to make bandages. Jim, who began to take interest in what the boy was doing, even if he did not believe in it, showed him where there was a pool of water. With this Jack bathed the old man's foot. It had a bad bullet wound in it, but the bleeding had stopped. Carefully bandaging the wound, Jack made a pillow out of a blanket he found rolled behind the saddle and with another covered the senseless form.
"Now let's hurry on to the ranch, Nat," he said, "and ask your uncle to send out a wagon. If none of the men want to come we'll drive."
"Of course we will," spoke Nat, with rather an unfriendly look at
Jim,
"Oh, I'm not so mean as that," the cowboy hastened to say. "You'll find out here we have to be mighty particular who we make friends with, son. But if you boys are so dead set on taking care of this— er—well, this gentleman, why I'll volunteer to drive a wagon back."
"Thanks," said Jack, but from then on there was a better understanding between the cowboy and the three chums.
The boys mounted their horses, and, as Rattlesnake Jim put his to a gallop, they urged their steeds to greater speed. As Nat swung up along side of Jack he asked:
"What makes you so anxious about that old man?"
"Because I think he may know something of my father. Did you notice how excited he was about the ring? Well, that gave me a clue. He may be able to lead me to where my father is hiding. I must have a talk with him."
There was considerable activity about the range when the boys and their guide arrived. A score of the cowboys were coming in from distant runs anxious for supper. Horses were being tethered for the night. Half a dozen dogs were barking as though their lives depended on it. Here and there men were running about, some carrying saddies, others laden down with blankets, and some hopping around and firing off their revolvers in sheer good feeling.
From a little cabin a Chinese in the regulation blouse, with his queue tightly coiled about his head, came to the door.
"Wood-e!-Wood-e?" he called. "Me no glet glub me no got wood-e!"
"Get Chinky the cook some wood!" yelled a man who seemed to be a sort of overseer. One or two of the cowboys got up from the ground where they had thrown themselves and brought armsful to the cook's shanty.
"Here we are," called Rattlesnake Jim, as he and the boys rode into the midst of this excitement.
"Hello, Nat!" called a hearty voice. "Land alive, but I'm glad to see you!"
The next instant a red-faced, short, stout, bald-headed man was nearly pulling Nat from his horse.
"Hello, Uncle Morris!" called Nat. "How are you?"
"Fine as silk. How about you?"
"Never better," replied Nat "Here fellows, this is Uncle Morris.
That's Jack and that's John," he added, with a wave of his hand.
"Howdy!" exclaimed Mr. Kent heartily, shaking hands with his nephew's companions. "I'd been able to pick you out in the dark from the description Nat gave. Come on in, grub's almost ready."
"Will you speak to him about the old man?" asked Jack of Nat, in a low voice.
"Oh, yes, sure," and Nat told his uncle in a few words of the wounded one, and Jack's desire to have him brought in.
"I'll send some of the men in the wagon," Mr. Kent said.
"Let me go also," Jack begged, and, after some talk it was arranged he was to go with Jim and another cowboy.
"But you must have supper first," said Mr. Kent. "I insist on that. Besides it's going to be a warm night, and, according to your tale, you left the stranger pretty comfortable. What do you think about him, Jim?"
"Well, there's no telling," the boy's guide said. "He don't look as though he could do much damage. He's a stranger around here. Don't talk like any of the usual crowd. I was a bit leery of him at first, but the lads seemed to cotton to him right off, so I let 'em have their way."
"Well, we'll see what he amounts to," Mr. Kent commented. "No harm in doing him a good turn I reckon."
It was quite dark when Jack, accompanying Jim and Deacon Pratt, another cowboy, started on the wagon trip. But after a bit the moon arose, and the journey was not so unpleasant. Jack was much interested in listening to the talk of the two men. They discussed everything from the latest make of cartridges and revolvers to the best way to rope a steer and brand a maverick.
"Let's see, we ought to be pretty near the place now," Jim remarked, after more than an hour's drive. "I think I see the big stone. Hark! What's that?"
A low moan was heard.
"That's him, I reckon," put in Deacon, who was driving. He swung the horse to one side, and Jim leaped down.
"He's, here!" Jim called. "Pretty bad shape, I'm afraid. Come here,
Deacon, and lend me a hand."
The two men lifted the aged man into the wagon, and placed him upon a pile of blankets, while Jack held the team.
"Do you think he's dead?" asked our hero.
"Not yet, but he don't look as if he could last long," Deacon replied. "I'll give him a bit of liquor. It may revive him," and he forced a few drops of the stimulant between the cold lips.
"Don't shoot!" the old man begged in a feeble tone. "I don't mean any harm."
"It's all right," said Rattlesnake Jim, more tenderly than he had yet spoken.
The trip back was made in quick time, and the old man was put in a bed Mr. Kent had ordered gotten ready for him. They were rude but effective doctors, those ranchmen, and, in a little while the stranger had revived considerably. He was suffering mostly from exposure, hunger and loss-of blood from his wound.
The three boys were in the sitting room of the ranch house, taking turns telling Mr. Kent of their experiences on their trip west. Before they knew it the clock had struck twelve.
"Now you must get off to bed," said Nat's uncle. "We'll have more time for swapping yarns to-morrow."
At that moment a man poked his had in at the door.
"What is it?" asked Mr. Kent
"That party we brought in a while ago, him as is shot in the foot, seems to want something."
"What is it?"
"He says as how he's got to speak to that lad with the strange ring, calls him Roberts."
"He means me!" exclaimed Jack.
CHAPTER XXV
THE COWBOY'S TRICK
"I thought you said your name was Ranger," said Morris Kent.
"It always has been," Jack replied. "But my father has been going by the name of Roberts. He was known as that to his associates, because of the necessity for keeping him in exile. So I'll have to consider myself as the son of Mr. Roberts and Mr. Ranger, until we get this cleared up. I am trying to find my father, and I think this old man can aid me. He seems to have a secret."
"Then you had better go and see what he has to say," Mr. Kent advised. Jack found the aged man propped up in bed. Though he was still pale, he was evidently a little better.
"Let me see that ring again," he said, and Jack, who had taken to wearing the emblem on his finger, held out his hand.
"Yes, yes; it is the same," he murmured. "I would know it among ten thousand, though I have never seen it before."
"Who are you, and what do you know about this ring?" asked Jack. He had been left all alone with the old man, the cowboy who had summoned him, and Mr. Kent, having left the room.
"I am Peter Lantry," the wounded man replied. "Until a month ago I lived with a man named Roberts, though his real name was Robert Ranger. He took his first name for his last one because of some scheming men. But that you know as well as I do. He told me all about his son, and how, if he or I ever saw him he could be identified by a peculiar ring, which he described. As soon as I saw the ring I knew you must be the boy, and I have a message for you."
"What is it? Tell me quickly," said Jack.
"If I was only sure," murmured the old man. "Roberts warned me to be careful about what I said. If I was only sure. I thought I was,—but now I remember—he told me to be careful."
"Careful about what?" asked Jack.
"How do I know you are Robert Ranger's son?" asked the sufferer. "I remember now, he said a stranger might get the ring. I wish I had kept still," and he seemed quite worried. A flush came into his pale cheeks, and it seemed as if he was in a fever.
"If you doubt me, I can easily prove that I am Robert Ranger's son,"
spoke Jack. "You probably know the story of Orion Tevis, and the
Indian, Smith. His son is here now, and he has a ring just like this.
Wait, I will call him."
"No! No! Don't!" exclaimed Mr. Lantry. "I must tell you alone. Come closer. I am weak, and I must whisper to you what I have to say. No one else must hear."
Jack sat down in a chair beside the bed, and the old man, looking carefully around the room, as though he feared some one would hear his secret, began:
"Your father and I have lived for the past three years in a little hut, hidden in the Golden Glow mountains. He never ventured far away, and what few trips to town were necessary I made. Some time ago your father became sick. I am a rough sort of doctor, and I knew he needed some remedies for the heart. I managed to get them, and Roberts (I always call him by that name) grew better. But about a month ago the medicine got low, and I knew I must get more. You see, I only made two trips to civilization a year, one in the spring and one in the fall. In winter it is impossible to get out of the gorge where we live.
"I knew then I must start on my summer trip earlier than usual, for the medicine in the shack would only last about two months. So I made ready to go."
"But tell me how to get to where my father is," interrupted Jack.
"That is important. I must hurry to him."
"Wait a minute," spoke the old man. His brain was feeble and Jack realized if he hurried or confused the sufferer he might get no information at all.
"I started away from the shack, as I said," Mr. Lantry resumed. "I rode my horse when I was able and led him when it was too rough. I had not traveled many miles before I realized that I was being followed. I caught several glimpses of two men, who kept close on my trail, and, try as I did, I could not shake them off."
"Were they members of the timber gang?" asked Jack eagerly.
"They were," replied Mr. Lantry. "I will be brief now, as I am getting weak. I hurried on, but the men kept after me. They closed in on me in a lonely place about fifteen miles from here, I judge."
"What did they want?" asked Jack.
"They demanded that I lead them to where your father was. They knew they could never find the place without a guide, for, doubtless, they had often attempted it. We had the shack well hidden, your father and I. Of course I refused to show them the way. And they threatened to torture me, but I only laughed. Then in sudden anger one of the men fired at me. The bullet went wild as his companion knocked his arm down in time, but it struck me in the foot. Then the men rode away.
"I managed to keep on my horse until I fell off from weakness. Then my animal wandered away and I had to crawl. I got as far as the rock and was waiting there, hoping some one would come along, when you found me."
"How long is it since you left my father?" asked Jack.
"It is a little over three weeks."
"And perhaps he is in want and suffering now," the boy cried. "I must hurry to him. Tell me which way to go," and Jack sprang up, as though to start at once in the dead of night.
"You must ride until—until you—until you see—you see-"
The old man's voice had been growing weaker and weaker. The last words came from him in a hoarse whisper, and, with a feeble moan he fell back on the pillow, with closed eyes.
"He's dead! Help! Help!" exclaimed Jack.
Mr. Kent and several cowboys came running into the room. Mr. Kent placed his hand over the sufferer's heart.
"He is alive, but that's all," he said. "Jim, ride for the doctor."
"He never told me how to find my father," said Jack in a low voice. "Oh, if he would only live until he can tell me that! I must go to him! He may be sick or dead, all alone in his cabin!"
"Now don't you go to fretting, son," said Mr. Kent kindly. "You just come away from here and go to bed. You're all tired out and worried. This thing will all come out right. The old man may not be so bad off as he seems. We'll get a doctor for him, and he'll fix him up so he can tell you where your father is. If he doesn't I'll send the boys out, and they'll go over all the mountain ranges hereabouts. They can find a maverick in the wildest country you ever saw, and it would be a pity if they couldn't locate a cabin, with all you know about where it is."
Jack felt encouraged at this, and said he would go to bed and try to sleep. His companions had retired, as he learned when he got back to the sitting room.
"I'll give you a room on the quiet side of the house," said Mr. Kent.
"You can change after to-night if you like."
He rang a bell, summoning the Chinese cook, who it appeared "was housekeeper and general upstairs girl as well," and gave orders that a certain room should be made ready for Jack.
"That loom, him sleep by Cactus Ike," said the Chinese.
"Never mind whether Cactus Ike is going to sleep there or not," said Mr, Kent sharply. "You tell Ike he can bunk in with the rest of the boys. He's no better than they are."
"Me sabe," replied the Celestial.
Jack was too tired to pay much attention to this conversation. Nor did he attach any significance to a talk he heard under his windows a little later.
"What's the matter with Ike?" he dimly heard some one ask.
"Mad 'cause he got turned out of his room for one of them tenderfoot kids," was the answer. "I wouldn't want to get Ike down on me."
"Aw, he's a big bluff."
"He is, eh? Well, you wait."
But, in spite of his troubles and worriment over his father, Jack was soon asleep from sheer weariness, and when morning came he forgot there was such a person as Cactus Ike.
A doctor arrived from Fillmore about breakfast time and examined Mr. Lantry. He said the old man was very sick, and would be for some time. He was out of his head, from fever, and might be so for three weeks. With careful nursing he would recover, said the medical man, and he left some remedies.
"We'll see that he gets well," spoke Mr. Kent. "I'll have the cook look after him, for I guess it will be hard to get a nurse out here."
"If he only recovers his reason, so he can tell me what I want to know," Jack murmured.
"Oh, he will," said Nat's uncle, confidently. "In the meanwhile you will have to be patient. Your father is in no danger now, for his partner did not count on getting back in over a month, and there was medicine enough in the cabin to last until then. Otherwise there is nothing to fear. You tell me the land stealers can't find the shack, so what else is there to worry about?"
"Nothing, I suppose," replied Jack, but, somehow, he couldn't help worrying.
"Cheer up," said Mr. Kent. "We'll get your father for you. In the meantime while we are waiting for the old man to get well you must learn ranch life, and get good and strong, so that if you do have to take part in a hunt for him you will be able to stand roughing it."
Jack thought this was good advice, as did his chums. They raced out of the house after breakfast, determined to see all there was to see. But this, they found, would take a long time.
Mr. Kent's ranch took in about a thousand acres. Some of it was on the first plateau, and part among the hills, where the cattle grazed. Besides the house, there were stables for the horses, kennels for the dogs, a cook house, a dining shack, the sides of which could be thrown open in the summer, barns for hay and grain, and a big tall windmill that pumped water.
"Can we have regular horses while we're here?" asked Nat of his uncle, as he and his chums started for the stable yard.
"Sure," replied Mr. Kent "You just go over there and tell Rattlesnake Jim I said he was to fit you out with a horse and saddle each. He knows which will be the best for you, better than I do. I don't have time to keep track of the animals. I'm going to be busy all the morning, so you can do as you please, within reason. Don't stampede the cattle, that's all," and he turned away with a laugh.
The boys looked around the stable enclosure for their friend Jim, but he was not to be seen.
"Lookin' for any one?" inquired a tall cowboy, who appeared from under the shed. He had small, black shifty eyes, and when he spoke he looked anywhere but at one.
"Where's Mr.—er—Mr. Rattlesnake Jim?" asked Nat. He was not exactly sure how to address, or speak of the cowboys with their queer titles.
"Jim? Oh, he's gone over on the Spring range. Was you wantin' anything?"
"Only some horses," said Nat.
"Oh, you're the boys," spoke the man. "Did Mr. Kent say you are to have 'em?"
"Uncle Morris said Jim would give us horses to ride," Nat went on.
"Well, I guess I can pick 'em out for you," the man said. "One of you boys named Ranger?"
"I am," said Jack,
"Oh, yes, you're a friend of the old man who was shot," went on the cowboy as he entered the stable. "Well, I'll pick out horses I think'll suit."
He disappeared into the regions of the stalls, and soon came out, leading a fine black horse. He threw a saddle over its back. The animal seemed a bit restive.
"Here's your horse, Ranger," the cowboy called.
"Is he safe?" asked Jack. "I'm not a very good rider."
"A girl could manage him," was the answer. "See, he's as gentle as a lamb," and so it seemed for the man opened the animal's mouth and put his hand in.
Thus encouraged, Jack mounted, and the horse moved off at a slow pace.
"I guess he's all right," Jack thought
In a few more minutes two more horses were saddled, and Nat and John had mounted.
"Now for a good gallop over the plain," called Nat, as he led the way from the stable yard.
Jack was the last to ride forth. As he was passing the gate that closed the corral he heard some one call to the man who had just saddled the steeds:
"Who'd you give the black horse to, Ike?"
"None of your business," was the reply. "I'm running this game."
"Ike," thought Jack. "I wonder where I heard that name before." Then the memory of the conversation under his window came to him. "Oh, well, guess it's all right to have this horse," the boy thought. "I can't harm him."
As the cowboy turned back into the stable a grim smile passed over his face.
"Good gallop!" he muttered. "Lucky if you don't break your neck."
"Come on! I'll race you!" called Nat, and the three boys were soon speeding over the level plain.
CHAPTER XXVI
JACK'S WILD RIDE
The boys thought they had never been on such fine horses. The animals had an easy gallop that carried one over the ground at a rapid pace, yet which was not hard for a beginner.
"Talk about your sport!" exclaimed Jack. "This is glorious; eh,
John?"
"Best thing I ever struck," replied the Indian. "I feel like my wild ancestors, riding forth to battle. Whoop! la Whoopee! Whoop ah Whoope! Wow! Wow!! Wow!"
It was a regular Indian war-cry that issued from John's mouth, and, leaning forward on his horse's neck, he urged the beast to a terrific pace.
No sooner had the strange cry vibrated through the air than Jack's horse gave a bound that nearly unseated its rider. It leaped forward so suddenly that Jack was almost flung off backward. Then the steed, taking the bit in its teeth, bolted like the wind. Jack recovered himself with much difficulty. He tried to sit upright, but found he had not skill enough for the task. There was nothing for it but to lean forward and clasp the horse about the neck. In this way he was safe, for a time, from being tossed off.
The horse turned from its straight course and began to gallop around in a large circle. Then it made sudden dashes to the right and left, turning so quickly that several times Jack was nearly thrown off.
"The horse is mad!" cried Nat, urging his own steed forward, with an idea of trying to catch the one Jack rode.
The animal's next move seemed to bear this out. It reared on its hind legs and pawed the air with its powerful fore-feet. Jack would have been thrown off, but for the tight neck-hold he had. Next the beast kicked its hind feet into the air, and Jack came near sliding to the neck.
"Drop off!" cried Nat.
"Stay on!" shouted John, who, seeing his friend's plight, had turned and was riding back.
"He'll be killed if he stays on," shouted Nat.
"Yes, and he'll be trampled to death if he leaps off," called back
John. "He's a balky horse, I guess."
"I think he's a mad one."
The next instant the animal, that had been rushing straight ahead, came to such an abrupt halt that Jack was actually flung from the saddle. He went right up into the air and slid along the horse's side. Only the grip he had of the neck and the mane saved him from falling. Before the horse could make another start the boy had wiggled back to his seat.
Then came what was probably the hardest part of it all. The horse gathered its four feet under it and rose straight up in the air, coming down with legs stiff as sticks. Jack was not prepared for this and the resulting jar nearly knocked the breath from him.
"He's a bucking bronco!" cried John. "Rise in your stirrups when he lands next time."
This Jack did, with the result that the jar came on his legs, and was not so bad.
Finding it could not thus rid itself of it's persistent rider, the horse began to run straight ahead again. It went so fast that the wind whistled in Jack's ears, and he was in fear lest he be thrown off at this terrific speed, and injured. He held on for dear life.
But the horse had still another trick. Stopping again with a suddenness that nearly unseated Jack, it dropped to the ground and started to roll over, hoping to crush the boy on its back.
"Get out of the way, quick!" called John, who was watching every move.
Jack did so, just in time to escape having his leg broken.
"The horse must be crazy," said Nat, who had never seen such antics in a steed before.
"There's some reason for it," commented John. "There he goes!"
The horse was up an instant later, and dashed off, but had not gone a hundred yards before the saddle fell to the ground, the holding straps having broken. At this the animal stopped, and seemed all over its excitement.
"That's funny," said John. He dismounted from his horse and ran toward Jack's animal. The horse allowed himself to be taken by the briddle and lead, showing no sign of fear. John bent over and was examining the saddle.
"I guess your yell must have scared him," spoke Jack. "It was the worst I ever heard."
"It wasn't that," replied John. "Western horses are used to all sorts of yells. Ah, I thought so," he went on, "this explains it."
He pulled something from the underside of the pad and held it up to view. It was a long cactus thorn.
"That was what bothered the horse," John said. "It must have been torture to have any one on the saddle. See there," and he pointed to several drops of blood on the animal's back.
"Why didn't it act so as soon as I got on?" asked Jack.
"Some one has played a trick," said John "See, the thorn was trapped in cloth, so the point would not work through until the horse had been ridden some distance. I wonder who did it, and what for?"
"I know," Jack exclaimed, as the memory of the talk under his window the night previous came to him. "It was Cactus Ike," and he told what he had heard. "He wanted to get even with me for having been the cause of his being turned out of his room. No wonder they call him Cactus Ike."
"I'll tell uncle Morris," cried Nat.
"No, say nothing about it," counseled John. "We'll get square in our own way. Pretend nothing happened. If Ike asks us how we liked the ride, we'll never let on we had any trouble. It will keep him guessing."
The broken straps were repaired and, by making a pad of his handkerchief Jack was able to adjust the saddle without causing the horse any pain. The animal seemed quite friendly, after all the excitement, which was only caused by its efforts to get rid of the terrible thorn that was driving it frantic. In its roll it had accomplished this, and had no further objection to carrying a boy on its back.
Cactus Ike cast several inquiring glances at the lads as they rode into the ranch yard about an hour later. But he did not ask any questions. As the chums were going toward the house Jack heard one of the cowboys remark to Ike:
"The black horse looks as if it had been ridden pretty hard."
"I'll make him ride harder next time," muttered Ike, but whether he referred to the horse or to himself, Jack was not sure. He watched and saw Ike looking at the sore on the animal, over which the boy's handkerchief was still spread. Jack's first inquiry was as to the condition of Old Peter Lantry.
"He's no better," replied Mr. Kent "You'll have to be patient, Jack.
All things come to him who waits. Did you have a good ride?"
"I got lots of practice," replied Jack, not caring to go into details.
"Can't get too much of it," replied Nat's uncle. "You can see some good examples this afternoon."
"How's that?" asked Nat.
"Some of the boys are going to have a little sport among themselves," replied his uncle. "They do every once in a while when the work gets slack. They're coming in from some of the outlying ranches, about forty of 'em, I guess."
"What'll they do?" asked Jack.
"You'll see," replied Mr. Kent.
Before dinner time the cowboys began arriving. And in what a hurly- burly manner did they come! On their fleet horses or cow-ponies they rode along the trails as if it was in the early days and a tribe of wild Indians was after them. They came up on the gallop, shouting, yelling, and firing their big revolvers off into the air.
Up they would rush, almost to the porch that surrounded the house. Then they would suddenly pull their horses back on their haunches and leap off with a whoop, the well-trained beasts standing stock-still when the bridle was thrown over their heads.
Then began such play as the boys had never seen before,—such riding as is not even seen in the best of the Wild West shows. The men seemed part of the horses they bestrode, as the animals fairly flew over the ground.
"If we could only do that!" exclaimed Nat.
"Maybe we can, with practice," said Jack. "John has learned a lot already."
"But he knew some before he came here," replied Nat.
The men had impromptu contests to see who could pick up the most handkerchiefs from the ground, leaning from their saddles as their horses galloped past. They picked up potatoes in the same way. They roped wild steers, dropping the lariat over a designated horn or leg, and throwing the animal on whichever side the judge suddenly called on them to do.
Then such shooting at marks as there was! The men used their revolvers with almost the skill of rifles. They cut cards, punctured cans tossed high in the air, and clipped upright sticks at distances from which the boys could scarcely make out the marks.
It was an afternoon of wild, exciting, blood-stirring and yet healthy, clean fun, and the boys were so worked up they hardly knew whether they were standing on their heads or their feet.
The last contest of the day had been called. It was a test between two of the most skillful cowboys, to see who could lasso the other. As they were circling around on their horses, each seeking an opening, there came dashing up the road a man, on a foam-flecked steed. He put the horse right at the fence, which it leaped, and rode to where Mr. Kent stood.
"The cattle on the upper range have stampeded!" he yelled. "They're headed for the canyon!"
"Here boys!" shouted Mr. Kent. "Sharp work now! Send my horse here!
We must head 'em off!"
CHAPTER XXVII
THE CATTLE STAMPEDE
If there had been confusion and excitement before there was more of it now. Yet no one lost his head. There was a way of going about it, and though it seemed as if everyone was running here and there, without an object, there was a well-worked-out system evident.
The cowboys began looking to their saddle girths, for there was hard riding ahead of them. Some ran to the supply house for extra cartridges, and these were hurriedly thrust into belts or pockets. Coats and hats that had been discarded were donned, and several men began packing up some bacon and hardtack, while others strapped simple camp outfits back of their saddles, for there was no telling how long they would be obliged to be on the trail.
"Come on! Let's go!" cried Jack, and he and his two chums raced for the stables.
"Will they let us, do you think?" asked John, whose eyes sparkled at the thought of the chase.
"Of course," replied Nat. "Uncle said he wanted us to learn the ranch business. I'll ask him."
But Nat did not get a chance. Mr. Kent was too busy preparing to ride after his stampeded cattle to pay any attention to the three boys. It is doubtful if he thought of them.
So the chums, without further permission than Nat's idea that it would be all right, saddled their horses, Jack taking the black which he had come to like very much. They rode from the corral and out on the road that led to the north where the upper range lay. The lads at once found themselves in the rear of a galloping throng of cowboys.
"Come on, let's get up ahead," shouted Nat, and they urged their horses forward, passing the others. When they were almost in the van a voice hailed them:
"Where you boys going?"
They turned, to see Mr. Kent riding toward them.
"Oh," said Nat, a little confused. "We thought you'd want us to go to learn how to manage a herd of cattle."
"Manage stampeding cattle," muttered Mr. Kent. "You boys must be crazy. But it's too late to send you back, I suppose. Only don't ride your horses to death the first thing. You've got lots of work ahead of you."
With this encouragement the chums dropped back, listening to the talk of the cowboys about what was ahead of them.
"Remember the last stampede," one tall lanky rider asked his neighbor, who was nearly the same build.
"The one where Loony Pete was trampled to death?"
"That's the one. The steers sure made mincemeat of him all right.
Hope no one gets down under foot this trip."
The boys looked at each other. This was a more dangerous undertaking than they had anticipated.
The riders advanced at an even, if not rapid pace. The cowboys as their horses ambled on were loading revolvers, looking to their lariats, tightening the packs which they carried on the back of their saddles, and making ready for the hard task ahead of them.
From listening to the talk, the boys learned that the upper range was about five miles distant, and was where the choicest cattle were herded, preparatory to being shipped away. The range was a big one, but, about ten miles from it, was a deep and dangerous canyon, at the beginning of the hills, which as they grew larger became the range of Golden Glow mountains. It was toward this canyon that the steers were headed, in a wild, unreasoning rush.
It seemed impossible for the cowboys to get ahead of them in time to head them off. But the cattle had a longer way to travel than did the men, and the latter could take a diagonal course and, if they had luck, reach the edge of the canyon first. It was planned to get between the oncoming herd and the edge of the gulch, and turn the steers back, if possible.
"Better hit up the pace!" exclaimed Mr. Kent, when they had ridden several miles. "We don't want to be too late."
The boys, realized, as did the men, that if the cattle, in their rush, reached the canyon, they would pile up in the bottom, and hundreds would be killed.
The horses were now galloped and the cavalcade raised quite a dust as it hastened over the prairie. The men began lossening the revolvers in their belts, and several unslung their lariats, ready for instant use. In about half an hour they began to ascend a slight rise that led to a plateau which extended into the range. Ahead of them, and about two miles to their right, lay the gulch.
"Well, we're here first!" exclaimed Mr. Kent, as he topped the rise and glanced to the left.
"Hark!" cried Rattlesnake Jim, who rode next to him. "I hear 'em!"
A noise like distant thunder sounded over the plain. Then, about three miles away, there arose something that looked like a dark cloud.
The sound of thunder came nearer. The dust cloud was plainly to be seen. Right ahead, so as to cross it on the slant, rode the group of men. The boys were in the rear. Mr. Kent gave a glance back and saw them. He shouted something but the chums could not hear him amid the pounding of hoofs. They saw the ranchman make signals, but did not understand them.
Then they saw several men from the front rank of the cowboys circle around and come up behind them.
"You young rascals!" exclaimed Rattlesnake Jim. "You ought to be spanked for coming along! Mr. Kent says to keep in the middle now. We're going to ride behind and keep your horses on the go. If they lag behind you're liable to be killed!"
Things began to look serious now. The lads found themselves in the midst of a throng of cowboys, and the horses of the chums, being surrounded by steeds ridden by experienced cattlemen, picked up their pace and went forward on the rush.
Closer and closer approached the dark cloud. Nearer and nearer sounded the thunderous pounding of hoofs. Then, as the boys looked, they could see through the dust that was blown aside by a puff of wind, thousands of cattle, with heads on which flashed long, sharp, wide-spreading horns, rushing madly along.
"Wow! Wow! Wow!" yelled a score of cowboys.
Bang! Bang! Bang! spoke a score of big revolvers.
"Right across now!" yelled Mr. Kent. "Try and turn 'em! If we don't do it, then back again, once more!"
Then began such a ride as the boys had never dreamed of. Across the ragged front of the maddened animals the men urged their horses on a long slant. Lying low in their saddles, holding on with one hand, and firing revolvers with the other, the cowboys rode, there being no need to guide the trained horses.
Bang! Bang! Bang! It was like a skirmish line firing on the enemy. The boys, who had secured revolvers as they rushed to the stables, fired as the men did, right in the faces of the advancing steers. The cartridges were blank, but so close were some of the men that the burning wadding struck the cattle.
Could they stop the rush? Could the maddened and frightened steers be halted before they plunged over the cliffs?
The line of cattle was about a quarter of a mile wide. In less than two minutes the cowboys, with the three chums in their midst, had swept across it. But the steers had not stopped. They were several hundred feet nearer the canyon, which now was but a mile away. There would be time for but one, or possibly two more attempts, and then it would be too late.
But the cowboys never halted. Wheeling sharply, they dashed once more across the front of the steers. Their yells were wilder than ever, and the shooting was a continuous rattle.
"Rope some on the edges!" yelled Mr. Kent.
At that some of the cowboys rode back and, whirling their lariats above their heads, sent the coils about the horns of some on the left fringe. The animals went down in a heap, right in the midst and under the hoofs of the others. Of course they were trampled to death, but this was the means of causing a number to stumble and fall, and so halt those back of them.
This could only be done on the two outer edges. To have attempted this in the center of the stampeding herd would have meant death for the cowboy who tried it.
The second dash across the front had been made, and the frightened cattle had not been more than momentarily stopped. They were still rushing toward the cliff.
"Once more!" called Mr. Kent. "This is our last chance!"
The canyon was hut a quarter of a mile away, If the rush was not stopped now, it meant the death of many valuable animals, and the possible scattering of the herd.
Again across the front, bristling with waving horns, rode the brave men. Their revolvers spat out fire and the smoke almost obscured the oncoming steers. The men yelled until their throats were parched.
"Make a stand! Make a stand!" yelled Mr. Kent.
The cowboys bunched together, riding their horses in a circle, the center of which was the boys. For a moment it seemed as if death was coming to meet them on the wings of the wind.
CHAPTER XXVIII
HUNTING MOUNTAIN LIONS
"Wow! Wow! Wow!" yelled the cowboys, in desperation.
To the noise John added his Indian warwhoop, and again the men began firing revolvers, which had been rapidly reloaded. It was a critical moment. It was the turning point of the stampede. Back, back, back the rushing cattle forced the men, who still kept circling. Now the canyon was but two hundred feet away.
And then, almost as suddenly as it had been started, the stampede was over. The foremost cattle slowed up. They raised their heads, and bellowed. For a few seconds the front line was pushed ahead by those behind. Then all through the herd seemed to go a message that the run was over.
Plowing the dirt up with their feet, as they vainly tried to stop, but could not because of the push that still was exerted behind them, the foremost cattle advanced nearly to the knot of horsemen. But the cowboys did not budge, knowing it was ended now. Then, with loud shouts and waving hats they turned the herd so that it circled around and was started back toward the range.
So close were the rear men to the canyon, when this had been done that they could have tossed a stone down into the depths.
"Narrow squeak, that!" observed Rattlesnake Jim, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a big red handkerchief. "'Bout as close as I want 'em," observed Mr. Kent. "I wonder what started 'em off this way."
"Maybe it was mountain lions," said Jim. "I heard there was quite a few around lately, looking for nice juicy young calves."
"It wasn't lions that started 'em this time," said the man who had brought word of the stampede, and who had ridden with the others from the ranch.
"What was it then?" asked Mr. Kent.
"It was done by two men, so some of the boys told me, just before I started out," replied the messenger. "They said they saw a couple of strangers hanging about the range the other night, but didn't think anything of it. We were all in the range house this morning, getting breakfast, when, all of a sudden, the steers started off."
"But what made 'em &o?" asked Mr. Kent.
"Some of the boys saw these strange men starting a fire close to some of the cows," explained the messenger. "The grass was dry, and, in one place it burned quite hard. Some of the steers got scorched before they knew what was happening, and they went off on the dead run. The two men trampled out the fire, and ran away. The boys started after the cattle, and sent me on to tell you."
"This will have to be looked into," murmured Mr. Kent. "But now let's get the cattle back on the range."
It was nearly dusk when this had been accomplished, and it was a tired and weary throng of men and boys that started for the ranch house in the gathering twilight. The horses could only amble along, for the strain had been hard on them as well as on the men.
The next few days the boys spent in going about the ranch, close to the house. They were much in company with Rattlesnake Jim, who took pleasure in telling them things all good cowboys should know. He showed them how to make a lariat, and even instructed them a bit in its use, though John needed but few lessons to become almost as expert as his teacher. Jim told them the best way to camp out on the plains at night, how to make their fires, and warned them to be careful not to set the grass ablaze in dry weather. He also showed them how to tether their horses, the best way of adjusting a saddle, and instructed them in the art of finding their way at night by the stars.
In short the boys learned more in a few days from Jim than they could have picked up alone in a month. They were so enthusiastic that they would have sat up all night listening to their new teacher.
As for riding, the lads improved very much as Jim showed them how to mount, how to sit, how to guide the horse by the mere pressure of the knees, and other tricks of which a "tenderfoot" never dreams.
After supper, one evening, when the boys, Mr. Kent and Rattlesnake Jim were in the sitting room, a common resting place for all on the ranch, Jack asked:
"Are there really mountain lions around here?"
"There used to be," said Mr. Kent, "but I haven't seen any lately."
"I heard some of the boys from the upper range say they heard 'em, a few nights ago," spoke Jim.
"That ought to be looked into," said Mr. Kent. "They're nasty customers to get among a herd."
"Can't we go hunting 'em?" asked Nat.
"What do you know about hunting mountain lions?" asked his uncle.
"They'd eat you up."
"Not if we took Jim along," put in Jack.
"I shot a lynx once," said John.
"That's nothing like a mountain lion," Mr. Kent remarked.
"Can't we go?" pleaded Nat.
"I'll see about it," his uncle answered.
He did see about it, with such good effect that, a few days later he called the boys in and showed them three fine rifles.
"Can you shoot?" he asked.
"A little," they replied, wondering what was coming.
"Then take these and see if you and Jim can bag a few lions," Mr, Kent went on. "I hear they got a couple of calves last night. Now— now—never mind thanking me," as the boys fairly stuttered their expressions of surprise and happiness. "Better see Jim and get ready."
The boys lost no time in doing this. They found Jim almost as pleased as they were. The cowboy at once began preparing a camping outfit, and that night he announced they would start in the morning.
"For how long?" asked Mr. Kent.
"We'll make it four days, if the boys can stand it," Jim replied.
The haunt of the lions was in a range of low foothills to the north of the range from which the herd had stampeded. It was planned to ride to the house where the cowboys in charge of that bunch of cattle lived, and there leave the horses. They would proceed on foot up into the hills, where the trails were so rough that horses were of little use.
They camped that night at the ranch house, and the boys hardly wanted to go to bed when Jim and some of his acquaintances began to swap stories around the fire.
"Better turn in," advised Jim, about ten o'clock. "Have to be up before sunrise, you know."
The next morning they tramped for several miles, the country getting wilder and wilder as they proceeded. The trail was up now, for they had entered the region of the foothills. Beyond them lay the beginning of the Golden Glow mountain range.
"That's where my father is," Jack thought "I hope I can soon find him."
It was almost noon when they reached a spot that Jim decided would be a good place to camp. It was under a sort of overhanging ledge, and well screened by trees.
"We'll leave our stuff here," he said, "and, after dinner, the real hunting will begin."
Little time was lost over the meal, and, having seen to their rifles and knives, the four hunters started along the trail, making their way through low brush and over big boulders. Jack who had forged ahead, with Jim close behind him, was suddenly pulled back by the cowboy's hand,
"Look there!" exclaimed Jim.
In a soft place in the ground, just where he was about to set his foot, Jack saw some peculiar marks.
"The tracks of a mountain lion!" Jim exclaimed in a whisper. "He's been here only a short time ago, for the marks are fresh. Look out, now, boys!"
The three lads needed no other caution. They got ready with their rifles, while Jim advanced a bit to see in which direction the beast had gone.
"Follow me," he said in a whisper as he came back. "He must be just ahead of us, and the wind is blowing from him to us. We ought to get him!"
Stepping as cautiously as possible, and taking care not to tread on loose stones, or sticks, that would break and betray their presence, the four began stalking the lion. That they were coming closer to the beast was evidenced by the increasing plainness of the tracks.
"He's heading for his den," whispered Jim. "We must get him before he reaches it or we'll lose him."
There was a sort of path along which the hunters were traveling, and which seemed to be one regularly used by the lion. It made a sudden turn, to get past a big boulder that jutted out from the side of the hill. As Jim and the boys rounded this, they came to an abrupt halt, and each one gazed with startled eyes at a ledge of rock, just beyond and ahead of them.
There, in full view, with the sun streaming down on him, was an immense mountain lion. He was facing away from the hunters, and this, with the fact that the wind was blowing from him to them, had enabled them to get within a hundred yards.
Slowly Jim leveled his rifle. Then he seemed to think of something, and stopped.
"You boys try, all together," he said in such a faint whisper that it sounded like the breeze. "If you miss I'll bowl him over."