The Rambler Club on the Texas border

Stopping with a suddenness that sent the horses back on their haunches, the men made no attempt to draw their weapons. After the first instant of stunning surprise, they seemed to face the determined-looking officers with singular calmness.

Carl Alvin’s loud order to halt, uttered in Spanish, was received in silence, but the moment following, to the astonishment of all, the benevolent-looking Mexican leader broke out in a hearty peal of laughter, which was promptly taken up by the others, until the narrow pass was filled with the echoes of their mirth.

What could it mean? Was it a trick to disarm suspicion, to throw the policemen off their guard? If so, it had failed. Not a glistening barrel was lowered.

Carl Alvin, the only Ranger who had a fluent command of the Spanish language, began to speak. Rapidly he demanded explanations. They were promptly given by the elderly man, who spoke in the most calm and even tones, while Carl Alvin listened with a puzzled air which gradually changed into another suggesting a mingled state of amusement and elation.

“Well, Alvin,” demanded Sergeant Howell, “what’s the rigmarole all about?”

“Sergeant,” the Ranger laughed heartily, “I don’t think we have the right bunch after all. Listen. Here’s his story and it sounds to me like a straight one.”

“Thunderation! but I shall be glad if he is all right,” almost shouted Tom. He nodded to the Mexican, who, apparently noticing the lad for the first time, returned his salute with an air of much astonishment.

In a few words Ranger Alvin related the following tale which was listened to by all with the most rapt attention.

Formerly the Mexican and his sons, the men who were now accompanying him, had been prosperous cattlemen. Under the lawless conditions prevailing in their country a certain band of outlaws had managed to make away with so many of their cattle that eventually the ranchmen were practically ruined.

They knew the men responsible for the depredations and swore they would keep on their trail until justice was meted out to them. Learning by accident that the band had changed their scene of operations to the United States side of the Rio, the father crossed the river in an effort to get on their track. Meanwhile the sons’ investigations in Mexico had led them to a spot on the shores of the stream where the cattle had entered their own country. Then the men at last discovered the pass in the hills which led to the cup-shaped valley. The rest was easy. They had played the same game on the outlaws that the policemen had on them, with the result that the band was driven back across the river into Mexico and handed over to the proper authorities.

Every member of the band was now confined in certain quarters which would effectually prevent him from giving either the ranchmen or the Texas Rangers any further trouble for many years to come.

The Mexican said that he and his sons were on their way to the detachment quarters of the Rangers to report this cheering information to the authorities.

“Well, well, isn’t the Rambler Club always running into the most remarkable things!” cried Tom; “eh, fellows?”

“No truer words ever spoken, Tom,” yawned Dave, “but really I must go back now to see if I can’t get another as uncommonly comfortable nap as the one I was having when this little excitement began!”

Once more in the little frontier town in Texas the crowd met Cranny Beaumont—a new Cranny—one they had never known before. They were amazed and delighted. Yes, actually the Tacoma lad was hard at work; it didn’t really seem possible.

Cranny didn’t intend to be a failure. Little things in life sometimes turn the scale. The Tacoma lad’s meeting with Ralph Edmunds had been the means of calling his attention to a line of work which thoroughly appealed to him—that of corresponding for the newspapers. To Cranny, long groping in the dark, it came as a great and welcome surprise. He was not now the irresponsible Cranny, with no particular plans for the future, but an earnest Cranny, working with a view and enthusiasm that augured well for his future.

All the boys including Jimmy Raymond had gathered together in his room.

“Now you know, fellows, the reason why I didn’t go on that trip,” he said. “Let me show you something!” He flaunted a check in their faces. “That’s for some Mexican stuff I sold to the syndicate. Mr. Edmunds put in a good word for me, and say,” it was now the bubbling, joyous Cranny again who spoke, “I’ve got a whole lot of articles to write on the very same subject. What do you think of that?”

There was no question of what they thought about it and Cranny smiled with pleasure.

“Yes, Professor Kent, Parry and Edmunds came through that little scrimmage all right,” he said, in answer to a question from Bob. “Parry told me he got some dandy motion-pictures, and say—isn’t this the greatest piece of luck?”

“What?” asked Sam.

“Why, young ‘Starlight’ was found, and is back in the stable.”

“Fine, fine,” exclaimed Tom enthusiastically. “Say, fellows, hasn’t this been a great trip?”

“Do we ever have any other kind?” asked Bob, with a smile.

The Books in this Series are: