“Now, what’s this all mean, Billie?” demanded Adrian, when they had joined the fat chum, where the shadows were dense enough to fairly conceal them from the view of any keen eyes nearer the fires.
“Yes,” added Donald, “you’ve gone and coaxed us over here, and now I hope it isn’t just to tell us you’ve got a pain, after stowing all that stuff away.”
“Oh! you needn’t ever bother about me getting a bad feeling after I’ve had my little share of rations,” Billie replied, sweetly; “but then, this don’t have anything to do with eating. But all the same it’s a thriller.”
“Well, speak up, and let us know what’s doing,” Adrian said.
“I was wondering whether Charley Moo could spare me just a teenty little more of that delicious stew, when he came and bent down to whisper something in my ear, while pretending to be taking my dish. And what do you think he said, fellows? Only that one of that bad bunch of punchers had been called in to talk things over with Mrs. Fred; and that if I wanted to hear something of what they said Charley knew of a way it might be done, providing I could crawl like a snake.”
“This sounds real interesting, Billie,” remarked Donald.
“And of course you said you could crawl better than any snake that ever lived,” added the other chum, desirous of hurrying things up; for it always took Billie an everlastingly long time to tell a story.
“Well, I told him to show me the way, and I’d do the rest,” Billie went on to explain. “So he led me out of the mess room, and along a passage that seemed to take us into the ranch house. Then he explained in his heathen way that fortunately I was able to understand, how, by lying down flat, and hunching myself along, I could get to where there was only a thin partition, and even this had a knothole in the same through which sounds would ooze.”
“The cunning Celestial knew all about that, did he?” remarked Adrian. “Chances are Uncle Fred had him hired to watch his wife, and notify him if she seemed to be plotting with any of the punchers who sided with her. But what else happened, Billie? You did the grand crawling act all right, I reckon?”
“Well, I guess, yes,” chuckled the fat chum. “I managed to get close up to that same partition, and sure enough there was a little blot of light coming through the knothole Charley said was there. And while I couldn’t look through, because it was so low down near the floor I wasn’t able to crowd down that far, I could get my ear close to the opening, and was able to hear the talk that was going on in the other room.”
“And one of those five unfriendly punchers was in there, was he, conferring with Aunt Josie, when he ought to have taken his orders only from Uncle Fred?” Adrian went on to say.
“He seemed to be the boss of the outfit of mean skunks,” Billie admitted; “and from the way he talked about your uncle I don’t think he’s got much respect for him any longer. But the first thing I heard was her asking what he’d done about sending word to her brother, which I take it means that old rascal, Hatch Walker, the head of the rustler gang.”
“He’s the man, Billie; and what reply did he make to that?” asked Adrian.
“Why, he says as how he’d taken care of that job; because there was already one of his boys on his pony and riding straight for where the rustlers showed up before it got too dark to see ’em. And as he had given the fellow the signal he reckoned that he’d get among the bunch right soon.”
“And what message did this puncher say he had sent out to our enemies?” Donald inquired.
“Just this—that along somewhere about midnight, when the chance opened wide up, the fellows left behind meant to bust open the fence of the big corral, and let the heft of the long-horns loose. They’d depend on their cronies to round ’em up, and make off with the lot.”
Adrian muttered something to himself, that might have been a threat as to what he would feel tempted to do should he have the opportunity later on to use his repeating rifle on some of these bold cattle thieves. As for Donald, he gave a low but significant whistle to indicate his feelings.
“That sort of tickled the lady, didn’t it, Billie?” he asked.
“I think it must have,” was the ready reply; “because I heard her laughing, and let me tell you, boys, it made a cold chill chase up and down my spinal column to hear the way she laughed. My stars! but she’s a bad one; and I’m sorry Uncle Fred just has to put up with her the rest of his natural life, because she’s his wife, he says, and the law compels him to support her.”
“Well, go on, and tell us a lot more, Billie?” urged Donald.
“Wisht I could,” replied the fat chum, “but I’ve about got to the end of my string, you see, and’ll have to halt, ’less you’d like me to make a lot up.”
“Never mind trying that, Billie,” said Adrian, quickly.
“I should say not,” added Donald; “you know how to keep everlastingly at it now; when you’re just telling real hard facts; and if you ever started to inventing things, I can see our finish right away. I suppose, then, the puncher went away after he told her about the messenger he’d sent to the Walker crowd?”
“Yes, that’s what he did,” Billie admitted.
“It’s just on a line with what Uncle Fred expected they’d try,” suggested Adrian.
“Wonder if anything could be done to stop that game?” Donald ventured.
“We’ll ask Uncle Fred,” the other active chum went on to say. “P’raps, now, he’ll think up a plan.”
“Huh! why not round the whole bad lot up, and make ’em prisoners?” suggested Billie, boldly enough.
“That wouldn’t be a bad scheme,” admitted Adrian; “and I’m going to propose the same to him right away, when I tell him about this messenger who’s gone off. Even if nothing else came of it, we’d really be reducing the number of our enemies by four, and that’d count for something in the long run.”
“As for me,” Donald declared, vehemently, “I can stand three open enemies to one who hides in the dark, or pretends to be a friend, only to stick a knife in your back when you’re not looking. Yes, I’m in favor of taking these fellows, one by one, and making them prisoners. We might put them in the bunk house, and have Charley Moo guard them. I rather think that moon-eyed cook can handle a gun, if one is put in his hand.”
“I should think he could,” mused Billie; “and if he’s half as good a hand with shooting-irons as he is with pot and kettle and frying-pan, you’ll find him a real wonder; because, of all the stews I ever tackled that one we had at supper took the cake.”
Once started on his favorite topic Billie would possibly have rambled on at a great rate; but chancing to look around just then he found that he was wasting his breath on empty space, because Adrian had tapped Donald on the shoulder; and the two had slipped silently away, leaving the other to talk to himself.
They found Mr. Comstock moving about briskly, as though determined that there should not be a screw loose in the plan of campaign if it depended on eternal vigilance on his part.
Of course Adrian felt it his duty to tell him all about Billie’s latest adventure, and Uncle Fred expressed himself as filled with admiration in connection with the splendid work accomplished by the stout chum.
“He’s a dandy, that Billie is!” he went on to say, energetically; “and you’d never think it, to look at his build. Why, he made the neatest getaway awhile back that I ever set eyes on. Yes, I know all about that little knothole in the board partition. It really looks into my office, you see, and on several occasions I’ve hired Charley Moo to listen there when Mrs. Comstock had sent for one of the men to report to her; because I knew it must be something in connection with another raid on the stock.”
“Now,” Adrian went on to say, when the other paused, “we’ve been talking it over, and both Donald and myself agreed with an idea Billie happened to put out as a feeler.”
“As to what?” demanded the ex-manager of the ranch, eagerly.
“Here are four punchers around,” continued the boy, steadily, “who not only don’t mean to stand up with us and be counted, when trouble heads this way; but they’re only looking for a chance to do us a bad turn. Now, we thought that it’d be a good thing if the whole four suspects could be tied, neck and heels, and kept prisoners until the sheriff comes.”
Mr. Comstock rubbed his hands together as though pleased with the idea.
“That hits pretty close to the bull’s-eye, let me tell you, son,” he observed. “I say it’s a good thing, and we’ll carry it out; that is, unless the sneaky coyotes get wind of our intentions, and slope meanwhile. If they do clear out why it’s a good riddance of bad rubbish, and we’ll shake hands on seeing the last of the lot. I wouldn’t cry my eyes out, and that’s a fact, if some other person, who shall be nameless, took a similar notion to desert my bed and board, and go back to her own kith and kin. Fact is, I’d be ready to sing hallelujah, and dance a hornpipe. But that’d be too good luck for me, I’m afraid. I was done, good and hard, but the law spliced us, and I have too great a respect for law to try and break the bonds through the courts—though running away is a different thing.”
The boys were shaking with silent laughter to hear the fierce little man going on in this manner. Like a good many other men he could be very bold when out of sight and hearing of his spouse; but let her once call his name, and the spirit seemed to be taken out of him.
It was now more than an hour after dark, and still they had seen and heard nothing to indicate that there were enemies near by, bent on some daring scheme whereby the coveted stock might be stampeded, and then picked up far away on the open prairie, have the brands quickly changed, and find lodgment in the corrals of the several Walker ranches.
The two boys took their turns at patrolling the corrals. Later on they expected to hear from Mr. Comstock again, when perhaps he had formulated his plans for the arrest of the suspects, providing they had not taken French leave by then.
It was while they were at the further end of the big enclosure that Donald called the attention of his chum to a suspicious light that seemed to have sprung up over the field where the several haystacks were scattered about.
“What d’ye think that can mean, Ad?” he asked, in an anxious tone.
“It’s none of our men, I’m dead sure,” replied the other, quickly; “tell you what, Donald, it looks to me as though one of the suspects is going to fire that stack of hay! Yes, there it goes, and nothing can save that pile now!”
As the hay flamed up like magic there arose a great commotion. Men could be heard shouting to one another. Fortunately Mr. Comstock was equal to the occasion. He hurried this way and that, calling at the top of his voice; and for a small man he certainly had astonishingly loud vocal attainments.
“Stay where you are, every man I stationed by the corral! This is a trick to get you away, so they can force a gap, and let the stock out! Shoot every sneaking wolf you see trying to injure the corral! Leave the rest to me! Adrian, would you care to come with me, and see if we can get a crack at the cowardly coyote who put a match to my haystack yonder?”
“I’d like nothing better, Uncle!” cried the boy, aroused by all these happenings, and with his mind made up that, given a chance, he, would surely do some sort of bodily injury to the treacherous hound; for of all things the boy detested, a fellow who could turn on the hand that fed him and strike his benefactor in the back, was the worst.
“Donald, you stick it out here, and perhaps you’ll get your chance sooner than we may!” called the ex-manager over his shoulder, as he ran hastily away, heading so as to switch around to the other side of the burning hay; which Adrian understood to mean that he anticipated discovering the firemaker starting operations in connection with one of the other high stacks.
Already the flames were leaping wildly upward, and beginning to roar. At least they served as a huge torch, by means of which the defenders of the corrals would be able to cover quite a fair stretch of territory with their eyes, and detect the approach of any suspicious body of raiders, upon whom they could open fire without compunction, once they were sure it could not be the sheriff’s posse.
As he ran Adrian was on the lookout for any kind of slinking figure that might be discovered near the haystacks, perhaps with a flaming torch in hand; though a simple match was really all that would be needed to start another of those conflagrations, so dry was the hay.
If he had the good luck to set eyes on such an object he believed that nothing would hold him back from sending a bullet at the incendiary; for by now the boy had become indignant at the way these Walkers were trying to rule or ruin the entire country, and would welcome a chance to let one of the brood know that he did not mean to stand their ways of doing things.
“You head toward that one on the right!” said Mr. Comstock, hastily, as the two of them paused, the better to look around, and decide on what had better be done in order to stop this work of wanton destruction.
This of course meant that they should separate; and turning sharply aside Adrian bent low, and ran toward the stack to which he had been directed.
As he did so he heard the positive report of a pistol, and actually felt the wind caused by the passage of a bullet, so close did it come to his left arm. That told him there was an enemy hiding behind the haystack to which he had been sent by his uncle; and seeing him coming with such evident hostile intent, the fellow had fired. Perhaps he had missed hitting the crouching boy because Adrian kept dodging to the right and to the left as he had seen an old Indian-fighter do once upon a time, when a crazy puncher had shot a comrade, and was brought to bay over his dead pony.
Then again, it might be that the man did not really want to do the boy serious injury, and was only trying to frighten him off. It was as much as a warning that the unseen enemy had his range, and the next shot would be more exacting.
Adrian did not stand there irresolute. He knew when to act, and how to go about it. The first thing he did when that shot sounded, and he knew he had been the target at which the missile had been sent, was to roll over upon the ground as though he had been hit.
Almost as soon as he landed he was pushing himself in shape so as to look over the slight knob of ground just in front of where he lay, and watch the spot from which that little puff of smoke had leaped. It was alongside the haystack to which he had been sent by Uncle Fred; and the chances seemed to be that the fellow who fired must be the one whose hand had already put a match to the blazing heap.
Thus looking, Adrian believed he saw the slightest of movements amidst the hay. This seemed to tell him that the other must be peering out again, to see whether the coast were clear, so that he could either beat a hasty retreat, or else continue his work of destroying the feed, by using which the cattle might be kept shut up for days at a time in the enclosures.
Determined to teach him a lesson the boy pulled the trigger of his rifle, having taken a quick snap judgment on the spot where he believed the other to be hidden.
His expectations were more than realized, for instantly there was a whoop, and from behind the stack a whirling figure came in sight. It was one of the “suspects” and from the way he kept clawing at his left arm the boy guessed that his lead had found its billet all right.
He gained his feet, and with rifle ready for more work if necessary, started to hasten toward where the fellow was dancing about, shrieking with the pain of his wound, and all else forgotten.
About the same time Mr. Comstock came running up.
“Got him, did you, Adrian?” he called out, in more or less exultation; for he had been sorely badgered of late by these fellows who had the backing of Mrs. Fred, and really snapped their fingers at his authority.
“Help! Mr. Comstock, get a tourniquet on, and stop this bleeding or I’m a goner! Oh! quick, sir! Don’t let me go under in this way like a dog! I was a fool to turn against you just because she blarneyed me. Save me first, and punish me afterwards!” was what the fellow called out, the pain of his wound causing him to show actual terror, and bringing out the yellow streak in his makeup.
The stockman, seeing that the second stack had not as yet been fired, did take hold, and with a few dextrous twists of a stout handkerchief put a temporary stop to the loss of blood.
“You deserve all you’ve got, and more too, Burke,” he said sternly; “but I’m going to give you one more chance after all this row is done with. Perhaps this may be a lesson that’ll be the turning point of your life, because you used to have some good points about you. Adrian, will you stay here, keeping out of sight all that’s possible, and aiming to hit every time you see any one creeping around this field?”
“What will you be doing, Uncle Fred?”
“First of all,” called back Mr. Comstock, “I’ll take this young fool to the bunk house, fix his arm, and then leave him under charge of Charley Moo. It reduces the snakes to three; and my next job will be to take hold of the rest of the bunch, unless they skip out on seeing what’s happened to Burke here.”
Adrian was satisfied with the way things seemed to be progressing. What if one stack of the precious hay had gone up in smoke, there was more than enough left for their purposes; and present necessities ruled the hour just then.
He patrolled his post, keeping out of sight as much as possible. All the while he was listening to catch any strange sounds coming from the vicinity of the corrals or the bunk house. He wondered how Mr. Comstock would come out when he started to make prisoners of the other three treacherous ones; and whether in so doing he might not come in contact with his wife, who would be apt to side with the men, and try to overthrow the authority of the ex-manager.
But Adrian believed Uncle Fred had determined to make one great fight for his manliness, and would refuse to do what his strong-minded wife said, even though she threatened him with the anger of her whole tribe of relations, those lawless Walkers of whom the entire country was ringing.
Still, there did not seem to be anything unusual happening; at least Adrian, holding out there in defense of the hay, failed to hear any strange racket, such as would very likely have accompanied a trial of strength between the two parties.
He suspected that possibly the other three fellows had slunk away, fearing under the new conditions that had arisen, the mistress would be unable to defend them, should matters come to a crisis.
The boy did not delude himself with the thought that the worst must be over. Up to now they had only had to deal with the sympathizers of the Walkers, those snakes in the grass who had remained in the employ of Mr. Comstock because his wife refused to countenance their discharge, and who were all the while taking secret pay from Hatch Walker, ready at any moment to betray their trust.
Between this hour and dawn there was a strong likelihood that the main body of rustlers meant to get busy, and spring all manner of surprises upon those who had the defense of Bar-S Ranch in charge.
It might seem strange that the Walkers would thus openly attack a ranch, when by such action they ran the risk of being classed as genuine outlaws, if any one could be found bold enough to complain about them to the proper authorities.
The truth of the matter was, as Adrian suspected, that in this coming of the owner of Bar-S Ranch upon the scene, these men could see an entering wedge calculated to weaken the power of Hatch’s sister, and possibly start the avalanche rolling that was fated to swamp them eventually.
The energetic and fearless way in which the three boys had taken hold, followed the stampeded cattle, watched until they caught the rustlers off their guard, and then not only made them prisoners, but actually drove the stolen herd all the way home—this must have made a deep impression on Hatch Walker. He knew that extraordinary measures must be taken to stem this tide in the beginning; or else it was bound to gather such irresistible headway that he and his followers would be swept out of sight.
By degrees Adrian concluded that the hay was no longer in such danger that he need remain there constantly to guard it. He made up his mind to have another puncher sent out to that post, preferring on his own account to be nearer the cattle, and consequently the point of most danger.
Accordingly he made his way toward the corrals, being careful to give the call that had been arranged between the defenders, so that they might not shoot one another by mistake.
Donald was glad to have him back.
“I heard about what you did,” he said, as he squeezed his chum’s hand. “Uncle Fred brought that wounded chap past here; and he said you did it for him.”
“But what about the other three?” demanded Adrian; “Uncle Fred told me he wanted to get back here so as to make prisoners of the rest of the batch.”
“Well, they seem to have disappeared,” replied Donald; “nobody knows whether they scented trouble, and slipped away; or if Mrs. Comstock has hidden them in the ranch house, meaning to turn a sly trick later on; but let’s hope the sheriff’ll get along here before the worst happens.”
“Suppose we take a tally, and see just about how the game stands right now,” suggested Donald, presently, after they had stood there for a bit listening to the various sounds of the night that was in all probability bound to mark the turning point of Bar-S Ranch’s fortunes, either up or down.
The cattle were uneasy in the corrals. Plainly they objected to this summary way of taking them from the pasture-land and shutting them up between walls, even if the confines did consist for the most part of a fence-like structure.
They bellowed more or less, and roamed around, as though in hopes of finding a weak spot where they might force an exit.
But thanks to the great care of Uncle Fred, who knew steers from the ground up, not a loophole of a chance for such a thing happening had been left, unless human hands started to make the break.
As Adrian well knew, if the heavy animals had had the intelligence to form themselves into a “flying squad,” such as proves so effective in football, nothing could have kept them within those flimsy bounds; but their efforts were all along the individual line, and therefore futile.
“That isn’t a bad idea,” was the way Adrian answered this proposition put forward by his chum.
“In the beginning, then,” continued Donald, “we knew there were five of these unreliables in the fold, for Uncle Fred mentioned their names. We had our eyes on the bunch when driving in the herds, though they seemed to behave halfway decent, and did their share of the work at that time. Now, one we heard had been sent with a message to Hatch Walker; that left four, didn’t it, Ad?”
The other laughed softly.
“Say, do you know what you make me think of, when you put it in that way?” he remarked, still chuckling.
“How should I?” demanded Donald.
“Remember the old nursery rhyme we used to have long ago about the ‘nine little Injuns swingin’ on a gate; one fell off, and then there were eight!’”
Donald laughed too, at hearing that.
“Yes, this is something along the same order,” he declared, “only instead of beginning with ten we start with only five; and I’ve already cut that number down a notch. Then there was that chap you wounded out by the haystacks—Uncle Fred fixed his arm, and has got Charley Moo standing guard over him in the bunk house, with orders to shoot him down if he even tries to cut out. You might think he’d use the big house for a prison, but—well, under the circumstances it would hardly be the safe thing to do.”
“On account of my Aunt Josie, you mean, don’t you, Donald?”
“Yes, to say what’s on my mind, that’s the stuff,” replied the other. “She’s in league with this riffraff element, because her brother is Hatch Walker himself, and blood is thicker than water, they say. I reckon, now, the lady has been brought up to be in touch with rustlers and all such, so that she believes in their ways of getting other people’s property without paying for the same.”
“Don’t be afraid to speak what’s on your mind, just because she happens to be my aunt by marriage,” said Adrian. “Uncle Fred as much as admits that he was played for and caught by the widow. He’s been bitterly sore about it ever since; but since she’s his wife he’s tried to do the right thing. And if she hadn’t happened to be related to the Walkers, and influenced to back up their schemes for robbing the Bar-S Ranch right along, he never would have gone back on her. Uncle Fred isn’t that kind of a man, you see.”
“Yes, I know,” Donald went on to say, “but let’s drop that subject now, and get back to where we started. Two of the hard crowd we can account for, and they’re out of the game, I reckon. That left three more. We hope they’ve skipped, and gone over where they belong, with the enemy; but we don’t know, and that’s where most of our danger lies, in my opinion.”
“Oh!”
When Adrian uttered this one word there was considerable significance in connection with it. The fact was he realized right then and there that his chum had not commenced this counting up the disposition of the enemy without some motive back of it besides mere curiosity.
“Now, three fellows may not stand for a heap when they’re facing your gun, and you’ve got a fair chance to pepper the same as they come on,” continued Donald; “but that number of snakes in the grass, lying low, and out of sight, ready to give you a tap on the head, or a thrust in the back with a knife, can demoralize almost any garrison. You know that, Adrian, don’t you?”
“I think I know now what you’re getting at,” remarked the other. “You’re afraid that when nobody was looking those three traitors have slipped into the ranch house and are hiding there right now, waiting to be tipped off as to when they ought to attack us in the rear, while we’re fully occupied with defending our front—is that your idea, Donald?”
“Well, it’d be about like the lady of the ranch to fix up a smart game like that, and spring it on us when we weren’t looking,” the Arizona boy remarked.
“And you’ve got some sort of remedy up your sleeve, I’m sure of that,” Adrian told his chum, with confidence in his voice.
“I admit it,” replied Donald, immediately. “That was why I led up to this by telling how two of the five had been put out of the game, and meaning that according to my notions no army can do its best fighting till they’ve cleaned out any traitors in the ranks.”
“And what’s the answer; because I’m dead sure you’ve thought up a remedy, Donald?”
“One of us had ought to find out whether those three punchers are really hid away in the ranch house,” came the prompt reply.
“All right! I think that’s a good idea; and I’ll select myself as the one to go and learn if it’s so,” said Adrian, as quick as a flash.
At that Donald grumbled a little.
“Now, see here, I didn’t expect that you’d take me up like that,” he objected. “It was my scheme, and I ought to have had a fair show of carrying it out. Even if we had to draw straws to see who’d get the longest, you shouldn’t cut me off just like you thought I mightn’t be equal to it, Ad.”
“You know it isn’t that,” said his chum, laying a hand on his arm affectionately. “You’re capable of doing anything that I dare attempt, Donald; but this happens to be a case where it seems like I should be the one to go.”
“How do you make that out, I want to know?” asked Donald.
“First place, it’s my property that’s in danger, and that ought to count for something, hadn’t it? Then stop and think, haven’t I been all through this ranch house hundreds of times as a boy, and oughtn’t it stand to reason that I’d know it better than you would? Own up, Donald, now; ain’t that the truth?”
“I s’pose I’ll have to,” complained the other; “only I sort of hoped you’d agree to let me go, because I thought of the scheme first. But say, why couldn’t we both take hold, and push it through? There’s three of the dodgers in there if there’s one; and that’d make it more even.”
“But we wouldn’t mean to try and capture them, you see,” Adrian continued; “and one could do the spying better than a pair. Besides, every man is needed out here to guard the corrals, unless we want to have the cattle let out, when chances are, we’ll never get half of the same back again.”
Donald had to give it up at that point.
“Oh! well,” he went on to say, whimsically enough, “I reckon I’m counted out this trip; but all the same, I’m not sorry I thought up the idea. Whether you find the bunch lying low in there or not, it’ll be something to know the truth. If they ain’t back of us, we’ll be able to face the Walker tribe with more confidence, just because those three mule-skinners1 can’t rush us from the rear.”
“Let’s hunt up Uncle Fred,” suggested Adrian.
“You want to tell him about it, I reckon, Ad?”
“Why, yes, he had ought to know; and p’raps now he might be able to give me a few pointers that would come in useful,” the other went on to say, as they started to pass along the outside of the big corral which they were guarding.
“What if he offered to go himself; would you let him?” asked Donald, still feeling a little hurt because he had been deprived of the privilege of playing the part of spy.
“Honest now, I think I would,” chuckled Adrian; “but between us there’s a mighty slim chance of that happening; because, you must remember who’s in the ranch house at this minute; and Uncle Fred isn’t going to put himself in any position where he’s likely to come suddenly face to face with his wife.”
“That settles it, and you go,” muttered Donald, as though realizing that what his comrade said was the truth.
They soon ran upon the ex-manager. Uncle Fred seemed to have quite forgotten the fact that he had been deposed from the command of the forces belonging to the cattle ranch, for he was bustling around at a great rate, giving his orders in a low but positive tone, and seeing that they were faithfully executed, too.
When he heard what Adrian proposed to do he immediately declared that it met with his approbation.
“I’ve been worrying some myself,” he observed, “about what’d become of those three skunks, because they have sure enough disappeared like the ground had opened and swallowed the lot. And just as like as not they are hid in the house somewhere; and ought to be yanked out by the heels, so we could put ’em alongside Burke. I’d feel a whole heap easier in my mind if I knew we had the four of ’em tied, neck and crop, so they couldn’t do us any damage unbeknown.”
“Then you approve of my going in to find out, do you, Uncle Fred?” Adrian asked.
“Yes, only be very careful how you get around, son,” replied the rancher. “When you make sure they’re inside, come out right away, without trying to do a single thing. You press the button, and we’ll do the rest. Now, p’raps I had ought to go myself, as I’m best acquainted with the inside arrangements of the house; but—er, you see, I’ve got my hands full as it is out here; and something might go wrong while I was away. But you understand, don’t you Adrian; so go ahead; and here’s hoping you’ll have the best of luck. Yes, I’m coming right away, Curly; just stay where you are a minute and I’ll be with you,” saying which the stockman hurried off, leaving the two boys chuckling to themselves.
“Yes,” said Adrian, softly, “we know all about it, don’t we, Donald?”
When Adrian started out to carry through the scheme proposed by his chum, he knew what chances he was taking. If those three renegade cow-punchers were hiding in the ranch house they would be in rather a desperate frame of mind, knowing that they were in the bad graces of Mr. Comstock. Hence, they would not be apt to treat the young owner of Bar-S Ranch with any particular degree of tenderness should they chance to lay hands on Adrian.
He had figured the whole thing out, and determined just how he ought to go about entering, and exploring the house. And on the whole he made up his mind that his best chance would be to crawl through the very window which had figured so largely in Broncho Billie’s adventure, at the time he had such a narrow escape.
Once through this, and Adrian found himself in the office which Uncle Fred had used as his den. Beyond was the apartment which Mrs. Comstock called her own private property, a sort of sitting-room, through which the man of the house was compelled to pass every time he came and went; and in this way his spouse could keep “tabs” on his movements, which was doubtless her motive in making these arrangements.
All was as dark as midnight in there, though he could see a faint shaft of light under the connecting door, and knew from this that there must be a candle in the adjoining room, or else a lamp that was turned low.
He listened as well as he could, expecting that he might catch even a whisper, if the other apartment happened to be occupied. But not the faintest sound reached his eager sense of hearing.
Judging from this that there could be no one there, Adrian commenced to open the connecting door. He used the utmost care in doing this, and pushed it back an inch at a time, holding his breath with anxiety while the process was going on.
When he was finally able to take a look beyond the door he found that, as he had suspected, there was no one in the room.
His next step was to pass through and seek beyond for signs of those Donald imagined had taken refuge in the ranch house, probably with an understanding in connection with the mistress that they were to remain hidden until the time came to take the defenders of the stock in the rear, and create a diversion in favor of her relatives, who might be cutting the corral at the time to free the cattle.
Adrian crept along through another room.
It was a good thing that he did know the interior arrangements of that rambling building, for otherwise he might have missed his way; because it was very much cut up, and a newcomer would almost need a guide to keep from being lost.
All the while the boy was straining his hearing in hopes of catching some sound that would tell him he was getting “on a warm scent,” as a trailer might say.
The bellowing of the cattle, and other noises of the night, did not penetrate in here to such an extent as they had come to his ears when he was outside; and here were also little intervals of silence, when he could listen with some hope of hearing low conversation near by.
Then again Adrian could give a pretty shrewd guess at to just about where these three deserters would be apt to be hidden by Mrs. Fred, should they really be in the place.
He drew near this part of the building with growing hopes of meeting with success. The mere fact that as yet he had seen nothing of the lady of the ranch added to his belief that she must be in communication with the trio of punchers who really belonged to the Walker crowd, although masquerading under the colors of the Bar-S outfit.
Of course it might be that Mrs. Fred had decamped altogether, preferring to be with her brother while the question of ownership of the herds was in progress; but Adrian believed that he was a pretty good judge of character, and what he had seen in her determined face told him she was hardly the one to run away just because circumstances had temporarily blocked her despotic will.
And presently he found that this was exactly so, for he caught the sound of low voices ahead; and pushing on silently was soon able to distinguish a few words, evidently spoken by one of the punchers who were in hiding.
He listened long enough to make up his mind that they were all lying low in the store-room, where the supplies of the ranch were kept. Then a bright idea flashed into the mind of the boy, which he determined to carry out.
As he well knew, that store-room had been built with a view to its being proof against light-fingered persons, who might think to profit by the fact that on a ranch like the Bar-S an abundance of edible supplies were always kept on hand, because it was a long way to town, and time counted for much during the busy seasons.
If Mrs. Fred were in there instructing her three followers as to what they must do in order to turn the fortunes of the affray, when the critical moment came, it looked as though fortune had indeed placed things in the hands of Adrian, so that he could turn the trick unassisted.
Thrilled with the thought he crept still closer to the partly opened strong door, and tried to make sure that he could distinguish her voice. If the woman happened to be somewhere else about the house it was folly to think of trying to make the concealed punchers prisoners by simply closing that door, and turning the key in the lock, for chances were she could open the same at her pleasure.
A minute later and he plainly heard a low voice say:
“Now stay here till I give the signal, and then remember what I told you to do. If you carry it out straight we’ll throw them into confusion; and before they get their heads clear the stock will all be running loose. Understand?”
Adrian judged from this that she was giving her very last instructions; and no doubt would be coming out of the store-room in another minute. If that were the case he certainly had no time to lose. Already his groping hand had come in contact with the door; and as he continued his investigations he discovered with a thrill of solid satisfaction that the key was in the lock!
It could hardly have been better for the successful carrying out of his plan; and as soon as he had made sure of these things he started to gently pushing the door shut.
When it came to with a little sound, he heard some one exclaim:
“What’s that?”
Then the key turned in the lock, and the boy breathed easy for the first time, because he felt that he had won out.
The door was shaken violently; then a man’s voice cried excitedly:
“It won’t give, missus; somebody’s gone and locked us in here!”
Adrian did not wait to hear any more. Of course they would kick, and rattle the door, but he chanced to know how strongly it had been built, and that the chances of their breaking out might be reckoned very small indeed.
He walked straight through the house now, and emerged by way of the front door. As he stepped on to the long piazza that ran the length of the rambling building he heard a quick exclamation:
“Hold up your hands there!” came in tense tones.
“Why, hello, Donald, you wouldn’t think of filling me full of holes, I hope?”
That brought out another exclamation, this time filled with astonishment.
“What! is it you, Adrian, and coming right out of the front door as if you didn’t care a cent whether school kept or not? Whatever does this mean, tell me?”
“Oh! well, I’ve been all through the house,” commenced the other, in what seemed to be a careless tone.
“Then the whole lot have skipped, have they?” queried Donald, in a disappointed way; as though certain air castles that he had so carefully erected were thrown down by this news.
“Well, not that I know of; and in fact I reckon they’re not going to leave us in such a hurry after all; if that door only holds out, and I think it will,” was the staggering way Adrian conveyed his information.
Donald was pawing for his hand the next moment, anxious to shake it furiously.
“You don’t mean to tell me you’ve gone and made prisoners of the whole bunch?” he ejaculated, with his voice trembling in the excitement that racked him.
“Just what I was lucky enough to do!” declared the other. “Why, it was as easy as falling off a log. I just crept through from room to passage until I heard the low sound of voices, and discovered that she had taken the punchers to the store-room, to hide them there until she gave the signal, when they were to rush out and do some sort of thing she’d fixed up, that was going to demoralize the lot of us.”
“And Mrs. Fred was there with them?” demanded Donald.
“Yes, I just heard her giving the last instructions, when my fingers touched the key in the lock,” Adrian told him. “After that all I had to do was to close that door and turn the key; and thinking it best to keep it, I put the same in my pocket, so that no one is likely to let then out.”
“Bully for you, Adrian! You’re the fellow who can do things! I never heard of such a smart trick!” said Donald.
“Oh! don’t mention it,” remarked the other; “why, even Billie could have turned it, if he knew as much as I did about the inside arrangements of that long house, and didn’t get lost in the twisting passages leading from one part to another.”
“Listen! what’s that I hear right now, Adrian?”
“Sounds like somebody might be trying to kick the toes off their boots against a door, don’t it?” chuckled the other. “Let ’em go it while they’re young; but it’ll take a heap of knocking to burst that stout door open. My dad knew what he was doing when he picked the oak out that it’s made from. But who’d ever dream that I’d make such a use of it as to shut up three treacherous punchers, as well as my own aunt by marriage, in that place.”
“One thing sure, they won’t die from starvation,” remarked Donald, as he continued to listen to the medley of sounds that came from the interior of the building but which could not keep up long.
“Let’s find Uncle Fred,” suggested Adrian.
“Wonder what he’ll say when he learns that you’ve gone and clipped the talons of his wife,” remarked Donald; “and if the marks on his face stand for anything I reckon now that poor old Uncle Fred has felt those same talons more than a few times, when the lady wished to make her words more forceful.”
“Yes, and how it’s going to end I can’t for the life of me see,” added Adrian; “because she’s his own wife after all, so that the only escape for him would be running away, and that would lose me my manager, which I wouldn’t like a bit; but perhaps it may all come out right in the end; you never can tell, Donald.”
“That clears the situation a heap, let me tell you, Adrian!” was what Uncle Fred said, heartily, after he had been told what a clever trick the young owner of the Bar-S Ranch had succeeded in turning.
Donald took especial pains to note that Mr. Comstock did not appear to be annoyed in the slightest because the wife of his bosom had been thus made a prisoner in her own house; in fact, the prairie boy was inclined to believe that Adrian’s relative seemed to breathe easier than he had done for some time, because now he could be absolutely certain that Mrs. Fred was so placed that she might not confront him unexpectedly, to confound him, when he ought to be fixing his mind on other things than family differences of opinion.
“The corrals are all secure so far, are they, Uncle?” asked the boy, anxiously; for he had become deeply interested in this strange game which was being waged for the possession of his herds.
“Yes, up to now nothing has happened,” came the reply; “but what lies ahead of us no man can say. They’re a wily and unscrupulous lot, those Walkers, and wouldn’t hesitate at anything short of murder, I reckon, and even that crime might be laid at their door, if you cared to go back to certain unexplained things that’ve happened around these diggings in times past.”
“It’s too bad the moon is hidden by the clouds, so that the darkness is likely to keep right along,” Donald remarked, as he cast a critical eye upward toward the gloomy heavens; and as boys on the plains learn early in life to read the signs of the weather almost as well as the Indians can themselves, Donald knew what he was talking about when he regretfully admitted that there was little hope of the sky clearing in time to do them any good.
“Yes, because we can never say what lies hidden right out yonder,” Mr. Comstock went on to observe, sweeping his hand off toward the blackness. “Somewhere in the midst of that pall we believe there are a dozen riders hanging out, waiting to swoop down on us at a certain time, and cut the barricade that holds the cattle safe, if they can manage it. That may mean the exchange of dozens of shots; and some people are apt to get their summons this very night; but what does Hatch Walker care for that, when he’s made up his mind to do a thing? I’d be a happy man if only some of us could get him to with a bullet. It’d be the best thing that ever happened for this section of country if Hatch was put out of the running for keeps. And remember, I’m not a blood-thirsty man at all, but one who would have peace all the time, even if I had to fight for it.”
“But Uncle, don’t you think it queer that sheriff doesn’t show up, when he must know he’s wanted right here and now so much?” Adrian asked, presently.
“Well, I am beginning to think it kind of strange,” admitted the rancher, in a thoughtful way. “For a while I rather expected that he was delayed on account of some trouble he might be having, collecting the right sort of a posse; because I warned Frank not to let him take a single man that he suspected of feeling the least bit toward the Walkers. But by now it seems like he had ought to have got a bunch of gun-fighters together, and be along here, if he’s going to come at all.”
“Perhaps the new sheriff has a case of cold feet right in the start!” suggested Adrian.
“Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of,” added Donald; “because I’ve known such things to happen away down in Arizona. When this man hears how his very first call is a summons to come and hit up against the Walker tribe, he may find that he’s got some mighty important business at the other end of the county; or that his wife is sick, and has wired for him to come right home.”
“No,” declared Mr. Comstock, “from all I’ve heard about this man he’s the right sort. We had the time of our lives electing him; and everybody’s been on tiptoe with excitement waiting to see how he panned out. This business right here is going to make or break Jo Davies; and it’s also bound to see the beginning of the end of either the Walker bunch, or cattle raising in this same county; because nobody is going to take all the chances, and then have their stock rustled.”
“Watch out there, Uncle; for I believe I saw some sort of a light flash up, and then disappear again,” Adrian said hurriedly, pointing as he spoke; for the fires were still burning, and they could see fairly well around the corrals.
“Yes, I saw the same several times,” admitted Mr. Comstock. “I reckoned that the rustlers might be passing certain signals along; because one time it came out yonder to the east, and again it flashed up due southwest. Those lights mean something; but of course we don’t know what, because we haven’t got the key.”
“What a long night this is going to be to us,” Adrian went on to remark, as he stood and watched to see if there was any answering flash out there on the prairie where everything was shrouded in darkness.
“Sometimes I even wish they’d hurry up and do what they’re planning,” pursued the old stockman, grimly. “I don’t like to be kept in suspense. If the worst comes along you know what you’re up against; but now we keep on waiting, and with every nerve strained as the minutes crawl along into hours; and as you say, son, seems like the night would last forever. If it’s going to be fight, why, let’s get it over with, and then take stock of damages; but I do sure hope Hatch will be in the thick of it, and get his.”
And Adrian, knowing how his uncle must have been badgered during the last year and more with the knowledge that his hands were tied, because of his wife’s siding with her greedy relatives in their forays, could not find it in his heart to blame Uncle Fred for this wish, even though it could not be classed as pious.
Yes, there would be no peace in that section until the chief offender was either put behind prison bars, chased into another county, or else “planted” under the prairie sod.
It was now not far from being eleven o’clock. Adrian found this out by consulting his little nickel time-piece. And supposing that the rustlers were planning to make their attack about the middle of the night, it would not be long delayed.
“If only they knew that we had taken their four allies prisoners, and that they need not expect help from any one inside our lines, it might make some difference,” he went on to say.
“Yes,” added Mr. Comstock, “because it goes without saying that they expect help from the rear. When they give the signal they look to these fellows to create a diversion, either by firing the balance of the hay, or in some other way; and while we’re kept busy with them, the corrals will be slashed wide open, and the stock run out. As it is, we’ll be in condition to pay full attention to the rustlers who come in from the front, so that they’re due for a surprise. That pleases me; and it’s all due to your caging that lot of plotters in the house, son.”
The scene was a remarkable one, with the fires burning, and the cattle keeping up an almost incessant bellowing, just as though they knew that unusual events were transpiring, and the fact excited them almost as much as though they were in the midst of stampede, such as the three Broncho Rider Boys had witnessed when having their first introduction to the Walker method of building up a cattle ranch at small expense.
Each defender of the corrals had been urged to pick out some place where at the first sign of trouble he could find shelter, and which would allow him to cover a certain stretch of territory, so that he could use his gun on any rustler who had the boldness to show himself in the firelight.
The greatest danger that Mr. Comstock anticipated, was the fact that should they find themselves cornered, it would be impossible to keep adding fuel to the fires, so that gradually darkness might come upon the scene, under cover of which the corral cutters could get to work, and sever the barbed wire; as well as tear down the heavy poles that were placed to show the cattle the barrier and allow them to keep clear of the cruel points that would tear the flesh.
The stockman had endeavored to provide against this emergency the best he could. If other things failed perhaps those clouds that covered the heavens might break, so as to allow the moon to shine, and thus afford them all the light they needed.
“We’d feel some better, I think,” remarked Donald, as the ranchman fell silent, doubtless thinking of the many things he knew of that were calculated to give him anxiety; “if only we knew that posse was galloping this way as fast as their horses could carry them.”
“I should say we would,” Adrian admitted; “and if it was daytime that might be learned by making use of the field glasses; but now we couldn’t tell until they were right in on top of us.”
“Well, we used to have a way down where I came from, that is as old as the hills,” Donald went on to say. “I remember one time when I was trying it Billie up and declared that he’d read about the same dodge in one of Cooper’s Leatherstocking stories of the woods in the old times about Revolutionary days. I’ve got a good notion to try the thing right now.”
“No harm done anyhow,” argued Adrian, possibly more than half guessing to what his chum referred.
So what did the Arizona boy do but throw himself flat on his chest, and place his ear on the ground. Yes, it was an old idea, and one that has served its purpose many a time. If you doubt how sound travels faster and stronger along some such good conductor than through the air, the first chance you have, after a train has passed, put your ear to the rail, and you will find that you can hear the click of the wheels passing over the joints long after the train has passed from sight, and when not a sound can be caught otherwise.
After lying thus for a minute or so Donald arose again.
“Not much luck, I reckon?” remarked his chum, for Mr. Comstock had passed on.
“Well, not that you could call by that name,” returned Donald; “you see, the cattle keep up such a trampling around, and making all sorts of noises that it was pretty hard to get anything else. I did think, though, I caught the whinny of a cayuse coming from out there in the black somewhere; because our hosses are all safe in the stables, you know, and the door locked in the bargain.”
“Just as likely as not,” remarked Adrian; “for we feel pretty sure those cattle rustlers are hanging out somewhere close by. If only we had a searchlight so’s to throw it on them sudden-like, couldn’t we make the lot scatter like partridges when we opened fire a few times? But if Frank would only come along, and bring that posse, it would clear the air a heap, believe me.”
“It sure would; and here’s hoping that same will happen before it’s too late,” was the way Donald expressed his sentiments.
“You don’t think it’d pay for somebody to sneak out there and learn if the rustlers are really hanging around?” suggested Donald, after some time had crept on, without anything happening to change the conditions as they existed.
“No use, Donald,” said the other, immediately. “There’d always be more or less risk that you’d get in a peck of trouble; and if the attack came when you were away, why, we’d miss your helping hand.”
“But I’d like to go the worst kind, Adrian.”
“I’m right sure you would,” answered the other, quickly; “but the more you get to thinking it over the sooner you’ll make up your mind that it’d never pay. When I crawled into that house it was of prime importance that we found out if those three renegades were hiding there, waiting to attack us from the rear when we had our hands full of other business. That was an important thing; but we already feel dead certain that the Walkers are hanging out yonder, so what good could it do to just crawl up and find this out? Perhaps, now, you’re thinking of corraling the whole bunch, and beating my little game five times over, eh, Donald?”
“I give it up, Ad; so don’t speak of it again, please. Just as you say, we feel they’re waiting out there, hidden by that measly gloom; and I couldn’t really do any more than make sure of that. Forget it. I’m wondering what their dodge’ll be when they get busy. I’ve known more’n a few games being played by rustlers; but believe me, in all my life down in Arizona, where the Mexicans come across the border and steal cattle, to rush it over the line so that we can’t go after ’em, I never heard of such boldness as these Walkers show. Why, they just up and tell a ranchman they are in need of about sixty fat beeves, and that his seem to fill the bill; so if he knows what’s good for him he’ll turn over and go to sleep again, in case he wakes up some fine night, and hears a stampede taking place outside where his corral lies. Yes, and they get the habit, too, for they come back again and again.”
“Well,” said Adrian, grimly, “something’s going to happen before morning to make a change in this program, even if we’re left to fight it out alone. If that posse only shows up it’s a dead certainty the end of the Walker trail has come.”
“How long now to midnight?” queried Donald.
“You seem to have got your mind made up they’ve picked out that time to begin work,” remarked the other, taking out his watch again.
“Because I know the breed so well; perhaps that’s why,” the prairie boy went on to say, positively; “they had to set some time, you see, so that the other bunch in the ranch house would know when to get busy; and somehow midnight seems to be the favored hour. Pretty close to that, ain’t it, Adrian?”
“I should say yes, because it’ll be here in ten minutes more, Donald.”
“Well, I’m glad of that, because, to tell the truth I feel a heap like Uncle Fred said he did; and the sooner we know the worst, the better. By the way, have you seen Billie lately?”
“That reminds me I haven’t; and I wonder what he’s doing with himself,” Adrian went on to say; for events had chased after each other so quickly that for the time being he had forgotten all about the stout chum.
“We might take a walk around and see if he’s crawled into one of the bunks over at the men’s quarters; because you know, Billie’s failing next to stuffing at dinner time is trying to ‘make up for lost sleep,’ as he calls it, though where he ever dropped any beats me. But as it’s so near the time we look for trouble we’d better let things go as they are. If there’s any shooting he’s bound to be waked up by Charley Moo, who, you remember, is in there guarding the wounded fellow.”
“That’s right,” replied Adrian, who often found this thing of looking after the fat chum rather wearisome, and fancied Billie ought to be left more frequently to take care of himself; since of late he had shown such marked improvement that he must be considering it quite unnecessary to have one of his chums forever holding out a helping hand, when they came to a muddle of any sort.
“Everything seems quiet over at the house where you left your prisoners,” Donald next remarked, as he turned his head in that direction.
“Oh! not much danger of their breaking out through that door,” Adrian assured him. “Once or twice I’ve wondered whether the woman in her blind rage would think to set fire to the place; hoping that she might get out in that way; but those punchers would put a stop to any risky game like that, I should think.”
“They would if they had their right sense,” averred Donald; “because the chances are three to one that instead of getting free they’d all be smothered there in that store-room.”
“Shall we make our stand here, and together?” asked the other, fingering his repeating gun as though under the conviction that he must speedily have use for the same.
“That was the program, as I understood it,” replied Donald; “we’ve got the choice place, too, where we can command a wide sweep; and when I picked it out I was pretty sure the attack would swing down from out yonder, though you never can tell where lightning’ll strike.”
“Then let’s get down behind all this trash, and lie low,” suggested Adrian; “for if they come riding along, they’ll be apt to send some lead singing in this direction, you can be sure.”
As they had before this time arranged certain nesting places in the midst of the old lumber and such things, thrown into a great heap until it could be taken away at some future date, all the boys had to do now was to snuggle down.
Then, resting their guns over the top of the barricade, they awaited developments, still confident that they would soon have plenty of excitement on their hands to satisfy any desire for action that might exist in their venturesome young hearts.
So the minutes dragged along, and at last Adrian announced that the hour of midnight had really arrived.
“They may come crawling up like snakes in the grass,” he said; “and again, p’raps they’ll go galloping past like the Indians used to do, down your way, when they had a caravan stalled—hiding behind their horses, and banging away with their guns to beat the band.”
“Well,” said Donald, firmly, “I hate to hurt a poor horse the worst kind, as you know right well, Adrian; but if they go to trying that sort of dodge, there’s only one way to break such a game up, and that’s to drop their mounts so fast they’ll soon get sick of it.”
“And when one of us does that, perhaps the other might get a chance to send his compliments to the rustler when he goes pitching over the head of his mount?” suggested Adrian, showing that he had fallen in with his chum’s idea.
“Good enough; and we’ll try that same if we get the opening. Now, let’s watch out, so that no crawler gets in close enough to start cutting the wire corral open. In some places it wouldn’t take only a few minutes at most to slash things wide; and by the way the cattle keep moving around, chances are they’d be pouring out through the gap before you could think five times.”
Again silence fell upon the two chums. Not the slightest sound came but they listened carefully to place it, under the impression that it might have a significance far beyond its apparent nature.
“There, did you see that?” whispered Donald, suddenly.
“That light flashed up three different times, sure it did,” replied the other.
“A signal different from any of the others, too,” added Donald.
“And p’raps it means for them to come along; they’ll be apt to whoop it up pretty lively too, mark my words; because they’ll expect their pals in our camp to take notice, so they can carry out their part of the slick game. What did I tell you, Donald?”
The night was suddenly broken by a series of loud cowboy yells, such as always cause the herd to take notice and show immediate signs of being ready to stampede. Then came the pounding of horses’ hoofs on the prairie, and the two Broncho Rider Boys, crouching there, waited to get their first glimpse of the coming rustlers.