X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYON

The Landslide

Raising his head in a gesture of disdain that was almost human, the horse walked stiff-legged around a porcupine that lay in the center of the trail.

“Steering clear of needles, Flash?” said his rider, laughing cheerfully. “Say, Roy,” he called to his companion, who sat astride a chestnut mustang, “is it true that porcupines can shoot their quills?”

“Bunk!” answered Roy Manley briefly. “Pure bunk, Teddy. You don’t mean to say you believed that, do you?”

“Well, now, that’s a question,” Teddy Manley replied, a veiled twinkle in his eyes. “Some say one thing, some say another. Pop Burns told me a porcupine shot him full of quills from ten feet away.”

“Pop Burns!” Roy snorted. “He could convince an Eskimo that ice was made of rock candy. You ought to know Pop by this time.”

The two brothers pulled their horses to a halt and gazed curiously at the small, quilled animal. The boys were alike in build, both being lean, wiry products of ranch life. Teddy Manley, fifteen years old, one year younger than Roy, had light hair and blue eyes, favoring his mother, Mrs. Bardwell Manley, in these respects. Roy took after his father in the matter of eyes and hair—both of these being brown.

Roy ran his hand over the ears of Star, his pony. From any other, this would have been cause for immediate proceedings tending toward the unseating of the rider, but now Star whinnied affectionately.

“Tell you what,” Roy declared. “Let’s bring this sticker home with us and get Pop to explain how it shoots its quills.”

“Good idea,” Teddy answered, grinning. “You’re elected, Roy. How are you going to carry it?”

“Humph! Never thought of that,” the brother demurred. “If we had something we could wrap it up in—”

“Or if we had a wagon,” Teddy went on. He was deriving much amusement from Roy’s serious attention to the problem at hand. Quieter, and looking at life through graver eyes than Teddy, Roy would frequently devote himself to the solemn consideration of a question which Teddy would dismiss with a light laugh. Roy’s nature was drawn from his mother, who, before her marriage to Bardwell Manley, had been a schoolteacher in Denver.

“Why don’t you tie him to Star’s tail?” asked Teddy, his face a study in innocence.

“Why don’t I? A fine suggestion!” his brother burst out. “Why don’t you carry him under your arm? You’ve got a leather vest on—you won’t get stuck.”

Teddy assumed to consider this proposition. He dismounted and walked toward the porcupine. Bending over, he peered closely at the curled-up animal.

“Looks as if he were dead,” the boy said finally.

“He’s not dead,” Roy declared convincingly. “You try to pat him on the head if you think so. He just curls up so you’ll let him alone.”

“Like a steam roller?”

“Yea, like a steam roller,” answered Roy, with a grin. “If you think I’m going to ask why, you’re mistaken. Go on, pick him up, Teddy. He won’t hurt you. He likes children.”

“Then why don’t you take a crack at him?” the other boy demanded. The one year’s difference in their ages was a touchy point with Teddy.

“Too busy. I have to hold your horse or he’ll slide down the mountain side.”

The two boys were returning from a ride across the country. They had been investigating some land that their father, who was the owner of the X Bar X Ranch, was thinking of purchasing for grazing ground. They had stayed longer than they had intended, and, wishing to reach home before night, had taken a short cut over Mica Mountain. The riding was not of the best, especially at this time of year when the warm summer sun had melted the snows on the peaks and the water, flowing down, was loosening the top soil. But the brothers were willing to chance a possible accident for the sake of arriving home “in time for grub.”

“Don’t worry about Flash!” Teddy exclaimed. “He could stand on the side of a house. Well, what’s the news? Are we going to take old Needleback home with us?”

“Sure! Wrap him in—” Roy stopped suddenly. He tilted his head forward in a listening attitude.

“Thunder,” Teddy remarked. “I heard it, too. Come on, let’s be on our way. Never mind the porcupine.” He walked over to Flash and rested his hand on the pommel of the saddle. As he did so the rolling noise was repeated, this time much louder.

“Thunder nothing!” Roy cried. “There’s not a cloud in the sky. That’s up the mountain some place.”

“Well, whatever it is, I don’t like the sound of it!” came from Teddy, as he vaulted into the saddle. “Makes my flesh creep. I’m tired, I guess. We’ve been riding ever since early morning. That’s the longest stretch I’ve been on a horse since that night we chased the rustlers all over creation. Baby, that was some time! Wonder what happened to the three men who got away?”

“Oh, I suppose they left the country,” Roy answered, as he guided his bronco down the steep trail. “Birds like that don’t linger long in one place, especially when they know that place isn’t healthy for them. The four we put in jail are there for a good stretch, I hope—though that jail in Hawley isn’t any too strong.”

“You said it! Well, if they escape, they escape, that’s all. But they’d better not try any more funny work around here. Dad’ll salivate ’em. Jimminy! I wonder what that noise was that we heard. It’s got me kind of leery.”

“Rocks falling, most likely. Don’t know what else it could be. I know it isn’t thunder. Come on, get a wiggle on. Be dark soon. Watch your step, this footing isn’t any too good.”

Keeping firm hands on the reins, the two ranch boys proceeded down the mountain side. The ground was covered with a loose shale, and the mountain on this side was nearly devoid of trees. It would not do to urge the horses to a faster gait than they naturally took, for a fall here meant a nasty slide.

“I hear Nell and Ethel are going to stay at the 8 X 8 most of this coming winter,” Roy remarked casually, as he guided Star around a large rock. He referred to two New York girls with whom the brothers had become acquainted some time before.

“You don’t say!” his brother returned, in a bantering tone. “I suppose the news just trickled out! You didn’t ask mother to ’phone over to Mrs. Ball and find out, did you? Oh, no! Well, let’s have it all. Why are they going to stay all winter, Mr. Bones?”

“Aw, dry up,” Roy said, laughing, albeit his face was a trifle red. “Trying to kid me, aren’t you? How’s Curly, Ted? Have you heard from her lately?”

“No, I haven’t!” and Teddy in his turn became flustered. “But I know why they are going to stay all winter, even if you don’t. Their folks went abroad. Mr. Carew had to settle an estate with ramifications in Italy, and Mr. and Mrs. Willis went with him and his wife.”

“Oh-ho! Our little detective on the job! Say, don’t try to kid me. After that you haven’t got a word to say! Star, take it easy! This pony must want to get home in a hurry.” Roy steadied his grip on the reins.

“Guess he didn’t like that noise any more than we did,” Teddy suggested. “These horses know almost as much as we do, they’ve been with us so long. It was sure tough when the rustlers stole them, wasn’t it? Great to have them back, though.”

“I’ll tell a maverick it is! And we’re lucky those rustlers—especially Froud—didn’t ride ’em to death. Checkered Shirt prevented Froud from injuring them, I guess. Wonder what became of him!”

“Can’t imagine. He turned out to be a pretty decent sort of a hombre after all, didn’t he? Well, I wish him luck. He certainly did us a favor.”

Teddy was referring to the leader of a gang of rustlers who had turned friendly when the brothers saved him from death and had in consequence helped them recover their ponies, which had been stolen by Gilly Froud to revenge himself against Mr. Manley for his discharge by the ranch owner.

As the brothers rode down the trail, Roy frequently turned in his saddle and gazed up the mountain. Finally Teddy asked:

“What’s the idea, Roy? Why the interested stare? Expect to see a friend of yours?”

“Not any. But I’m still curious about that noise. Seems to have stopped, and I’d like to know what it really was.”

“Thought you said it was rocks falling down the mountain?”

“Well, it probably was. But that doesn’t prove anything. Suppose it was a landslide? It might be, you know. And landslides aren’t things you can fool with.”

“A landslide on Mica Mountain? Forget it! Never knew one to happen yet. Golly, look at that buzzard! Wish I had a rifle along; bet I could knock him for a loup.”

Roy turned again in his saddle. Evidently he had not heard Teddy’s remark about the bird circling overhead, for he did not reply. Instead he listened intently.

“Say, what’s the matter with you?” Teddy demanded, as he watched his brother. “You give me the willies. Why don’t you—”

Roy held up his hand.

“Listen!” he commanded. “Hear that?”

To the boys’ ears came that same queer rumbling noise. Now it did not decrease as it had before, but grew louder and louder. The brothers faced each other, paling beneath their tan.

Suddenly a stone hit the ground with a crash directly in front of Teddy’s horse. The thunder increased in volume—it seemed almost at their heels. Then another stone fell—and another!

Like a flash, both boys turned. What they saw caused their breath to stick in their throats and their hearts to beat madly.

The whole mountain side seemed to have been torn loose. Huge boulders were tumbling toward them. The few trees that dotted the landscape were uprooted and toppled with majestic force. The air was filled with flying pieces of rock!

Above all rose that sullen, deep-throated roar like a giant in anger.

A Missing Brother

“Ride!” Teddy yelled. “It’s a landslide! Watch out for—”

His words were drowned by a bo-o-o-m! that seemed to shake the mountain to its very base. Teddy wasted no more time in useless explanations. Wisely he gave Flash his head and let the bronco pick his own path down the treacherous incline.

As horse and rider catapulted toward level ground, Teddy’s first thought was for his brother. He turned swiftly in the saddle, and his heart gave a leap when he saw that Roy had disappeared. Frantically the boy peered through the haze of dust which hung over the landscape like a pall, but Roy was nowhere to be seen. Teddy knew it would be hopeless to yell, as he could never make himself heard over the crashing roar of the landslide.

With a silent prayer for his brother’s safety, the rider was forced to use all his skill to retain his seat in the saddle. Lucky for him that he had, as his father put it, “been born aboard a bronc,” else he must surely have been flung to the ground, to be seriously injured, if not killed, by the rocks and trees that were sweeping swiftly down the mountain side, almost at his heels.

Flash, his eyes white with fright, was leaping for safety like some wild animal. Now and then he would give a whinny of terror as a rock landed at his side with a thud. The chances were about even that the boy and his pony would avoid the falling stones. Yet, as each one hurtled by, it seemed certain that the next must strike and send the horse and rider crashing to the ground.

“Stick to it, Flash!” Teddy panted, drawing his hand quickly over his eyes to clear them of sweat. “Another five hundred feet and we’ll be safe—the slide is slowing up! If I could only see—this dust—if Roy is safe—”

The grinding noise to the rear of the boy was gradually lessening, and the hurtling rocks were becoming fewer in number. Still Teddy knew he was by no means safe, as any moment another slide might start and overtake him. And a second slide, piled on top of the already loosened earth, might completely overwhelm him. He must ride, and ride hard, if he wished to place himself out of danger.

Flash’s trip down the mountain was one of breath-taking escapes from destruction. Teddy swayed with him as though he were a part of the horse. Almost automatically, the boy would know when the bronco was going to plant his feet to avoid a sudden drop, and he would brace himself for the shock. Then the pony would slide and leap—slide and leap. On Teddy’s part it was a marvel of horsemanship; on Flash’s part it was a wonderful example of animal intelligence. Frightened as he was, the pony never once made a misstep, never once gave way to his terror and dashed blindly forward. Had he done so it would have meant the end for Teddy Manley.

At this moment the young rancher bore little resemblance to the young man registered as “Theodore Havens Manley, Latin Scientific Course,” on the records of the Hopper Boarding School. His face was streaked with dust, and perspiration had smudged it into a black mask. His hat was gone—swept off by a swishing branch—and his hair was in wild disorder. His clothing was torn in several places by the bushes he had dashed through. He was panting fiercely, and his eyes were sharpened into two points of blue light. From his lips came words that were barely articulate.

“Now, Flash—watch that rock! Stick to it, old boy, stick to it—a little more—yow! That was a close one! All right, baby, you’re not hurt—take it easy now—”

A leap—a swift, neck-jerking halt—slipping, sliding, trying desperately for a foothold—another leap—

Suddenly a yell burst from Teddy’s lips. Frantically he pulled on the reins, seeking vainly to stop the pony almost in midair. The boy’s face paled. In front of him, so close that the horse’s forefeet seemed on the very edge, yawned a deep gully!

“Flash! We’re done for! Ah-h—”

In the second that remained to him Teddy made his decision. It was impossible to stop, the gully seemed to rush eagerly to meet them. There was only one chance—that Flash could clear it, could leap to the other side.

Teddy released the reins. He dug his heels deep into the pony’s sides. And, with his heart in his throat, the boy felt the horse rise beneath him and sail through the air.

For a moment the mount and his rider were silhouetted against the sky like a frantic picture thrown on the silversheet. A moment—then Teddy felt his very bones grind together in the shock of that swift descent. Vaguely he looked about him. Flash, trembling like a leaf, was standing upon a broad plateau. They were safe!

Teddy nodded his head several times, slowly, deliberately, as if to confirm his past thoughts. Then he dismounted stiffly, and putting a hand on either side of the pony’s head, he looked him straight in the eyes. For a second—perhaps two—he stood there, while Flash gradually grew still and breathed easier. When he whinnied softly, Teddy rubbed the pony’s ears and stepped back.

“Finish!” the boy said. Then he laughed, adding:

“Me, I’m going to join the aviation and have you for a plane! Jimminy, what a jump! Let’s see—”

Turning, Teddy walked to the edge. The dust of the landslide had almost settled, and he saw plainly the other side of the gully. It was a great deal higher than the land on which he stood, which difference in elevation was the only reason Flash had been able to make the leap. No horse could have jumped that distance on the level. Even with this drop to aid him, it seemed almost impossible that Flash had done it. Yet there he stood, looking at his master with knowing eyes, and here Teddy stood—safe!

“But where in thunder am I?” the boy exclaimed suddenly. “I don’t remember seeing this gully before. If I could get to the other side again I could probably find my way home, but there’s not a dog’s chance of ever leaping back.” He looked down into the abyss and shuddered. The thought of that tremendous jump was unnerving.

As Teddy walked toward Flash, he felt a wave of uneasiness pass over him, as though an unpleasant thought were hiding in his brain somewhere. His mind leaped forward.

“Roy!”

Where was his brother? What had happened to him? Did he escape? They were both ahead of the slide, surely he could not have fallen! Star could bring him out of it—unless he was struck by a rock!

Teddy hunched his shoulders. He ran his hand through his hair and discovered for the first time that he had no hat on. Then he looked about him, as if he expected to find the hat lying under a bush. The hat—never mind the hat! Roy was gone!

In silence and with a deep frown creasing his forehead, Teddy remounted. Could it be possible that his brother had come to this same gully and, as he had, leaped with his horse to the other side? Teddy cast his eye along the opposite edge. Less than a quarter of a mile away the lip of the gorge dipped down, so that it was level with the plateau on which Flash stood. The meaning of this struck Teddy like a dash of cold water. This, then, was the only place the leap could be made! If a pony tried the jump where both sides were level, he would hit the cliff with his hind feet, while his front feet would paw desperately on the loose earth of the plateau’s edge, seeking madly to draw himself and his rider to safety, then with a scream he would lose his hold—fall backward—turning over and over—over and over—

A groan burst from Teddy’s lips.

It could not be! It must not be! Roy was safe! He had turned to one side and had ridden from under the landslide. Now he was looking for Teddy, wondering what had happened, wondering if Teddy had made it all right. Now he was taking off his hat, rubbing back his hair and muttering something about, “I’ll tell a maverick that was some ruckus!” Certainly he was safe, Teddy argued. Roy—good old Roy—he’d come riding along any minute now and yell across to his brother asking him if the landslide didn’t remind him of the scene in “The Fall of Pompeii.”

But Roy did not come riding along, and the sun was casting long shadows as Teddy rode slowly along the edge of the gorge. Somehow he would have to find his way out of here. He must reach home and send a party out to search for Roy. No, Roy would be waiting for him when he got there! Maybe he would arrive in time to halt those who were about to start after Teddy. If he hurried they might find Roy before it was too late! No, no! Roy was home already!

“Can’t go on like this,” the boy muttered, bending low over the pony’s head. “The thing to do is to find dad as quickly as I can and tell him. He’ll know what to do. But I won’t let mother know—not until we find Roy. Then Roy can tell her. If I could only remember this gully I might reach the ranch without riding all over the landscape.”

He hunched his shoulders again, as another boy might straighten up, and thrust his chin forward. Chirping to his mount, he increased his pace.

The sky above him had turned to a pale blue that was almost white, while to the west, beyond the mountains, a riot of color blazed. Teddy threw his head back as a shrill, hoarse cry of a circling buzzard tore the silence. Then the boy raised in his stirrups and shook his fist fiercely at the winged carrion-eater.

“What do you want here? There’s nothing for you! Search! Go ahead and search, you filthy buzzard! You won’t find anything, I tell you! Roy is home—home! And he and I will come out to-morrow and toss some lead into you! Maybe you’ll like to try that for a change of diet!”

Strangely enough, the bird ceased his ominous circling, and with another scream disappeared over the rim of trees. Teddy sank back into the saddle, his face somewhat red, ashamed of his outburst.

“Must be getting woozy,” he muttered. “Yellin’ at a buzzard! Never did that before. I wonder—”

Suddenly he stopped, pulling the reins taut. Above him, outlined against the eastern sky, was the figure of a man on horseback. As he rode closer, a red beam from the setting sun shot through the trees and illuminated his face like a spotlight. Teddy gave a yell.

“Nick! Nick Looker! Yo-o-o, Nick! How do I get out of here? Where’s Roy? Hey-y-y, Nick!”

The Slouching Rider

Nick Looker’s answer winged down on the evening breeze.

“Yo-o, Ted! What you say-y-y? Where you been?”

“How do I get out of here?”

“South! Keep south! Straight out from the gully! Then bear west! I’ll meet you!”

With a throb of sudden hope in his heart that Nick had found Roy, Teddy turned Flash about and rode rapidly in the direction Nick had indicated.

While the boy is hurrying to meet the young puncher on the trail above him, a few moments will be taken to tell something of Roy and Teddy Manley of the X Bar X Ranch.

The two brothers had been born on their father’s ranch, and, with the exception of the three years they had spent at the Hopper Boarding School, just outside of Denver, they had lived the rugged life of the cowboy. Although their father was more than moderately well off, he, as a Westerner of the old school, determined that his boys should have every chance the West offered them to grow into hardy men. Hence it was that they were an important part of the “working crew” on the X Bar X.

As related in the first book of this series, called “The X Bar X Boys on the Ranch,” Roy and Teddy succeeded in obtaining information which led to the capture of a band of rustlers at the very moment they had planned to steal cattle from the Manley range. Among these men was Gilly Froud, who was despised even by his cronies because of his cruelty to horses and his mean, avaricious spirit.

It was this coward who, out of revenge for a fancied wrong done him by Mr. Manley, had stolen General, Star, and Flash, the especial horses of Mr. Manley, Roy, and Teddy. That theft was his undoing, for the two boys and their father were determined to recover their favorite mounts at all costs. The many exciting adventures which led to their recovery and the jailing of most of the rustlers, are told of in the book preceding this.

With this explanation, let us return to Teddy as he is riding to meet Nick Looker, a cowboy of the X Bar X outfit.

Following Nick’s instructions, the boy bore south out of the gully. Then, in a moment, he spotted a well worn trail, and, practically of his own accord, Flash made for this at a gallop.

“Right under my nose and I couldn’t see it!” Teddy murmured bitterly. “What a fine Westerner I am! If I had found this sooner I’d be almost home by now and we could have started after Roy that much quicker. There’s just a chance that Nick saw him—just a chance. Baby, I sure hope he has!”

Eager to set his mind at rest, he touched Flash impatiently with his heels. The horse, who was doing his best over the rough ground, turned his head as if in reproach. Teddy grinned slightly.

“All right, ole hoss,” he said. “Go ahead. Don’t mind me. Guess I’m kind o’ nervous. But you can’t blame me now, can you?”

At that moment, when Teddy was most concerned over his brother’s safety, Roy was within a quarter of a mile of him, across the gully, himself riding toward Nick Looker.

When the landslide came, Roy, realizing his danger, had snapped Star into action with a sudden yell. The next moment the pall of dust hid everything, and Roy had to give his safety into the keeping of his pony.

Star did not fail him. Taking a direction at right angles and to the left of the route Flash had picked, the bronco sought to avoid the rumbling slide by long, desperate bounds. Somehow, he had chosen the only avenue of escape left to him. As he shot over the mountain, Roy noticed that they were leaving the landslide behind. In a few moments he and Star stood in safety, while in the distance the rocks still crashed down the slope.

As Teddy’s first thought had been for his brother, so now Roy hoped fervently that Teddy had succeeded in riding clear.

He stopped and looked about him. The thunder of the landslide had died to an echo, and Roy knew that within five minutes the earth would settle entirely. Still it would not be exactly safe to ride over that stretch of mountain for some time, as the least disturbance might start another slide.

“Well, if she starts, she starts,” Roy said aloud. “I’ve got to find Teddy! If he’s off his horse, he’ll want to ride double with me. Guess Star can hold us; hey, old boy? Get along now. Tread easy. Don’t go kicking about or you’ll have the whole mountain on top of us. All right, mosey!”

Diagonally across the mountain he rode, his eyes narrowing as the sun neared the horizon and Teddy was still missing. Yet, he thought, no news is good news, and Teddy might even now be waiting at the ranch for him.

To the best of his knowledge, the trail he rode led toward the X Bar X. If Teddy was really lost, it would be best to make for home and send out a searching party. One man could do nothing in this trackless, wild country. Turning in his saddle, Roy squinted at the descending sun, now a dull red ball.

“Take it on the run, Star,” he said aloud, in a somewhat anxious voice. “Night, she’s coming. Want to find out if Teddy got home safe. If not—”

He did not complete his thought, but let the reins hang loosely over the bronco’s neck. Star eased into a gallop.

“I suppose we’re going right,” Roy remarked after a moment. “Seems as though the ranch should be due east. When that slide came, we were—”

Cutting the sentence off sharply, he pulled back on the reins with all his strength. Star slid forward on stiffened legs, reared, and came to rest within a foot of the edge of the gully. From where Roy sat, it appeared that the pony’s head hung over the cliff while the horse himself remained on solid land only by dint of clinging to the earth with his tail, or perhaps with his hind feet, to help him. The boy took a deep breath.

“If it’s all the same to you, Star, maybe you’d be just as happy a little farther back. Hey? Easy, now—there’s no rush. Let’s not do anything sudden. Easy! That’s the stuff. Whew!”

Pushing back his sombrero, Roy mopped his forehead.

Then he dismounted and walked forward, to part the bushes and investigate the canyon before him.

“She’s deep, all right, and wide,” he mused. “Not a chance to jump it—here, at any rate. Funny I don’t remember this. Well—”

He shook his head jerkily, in the gesture of a person casting an unpleasant thought from him. Walking swiftly to where he had left Star, he remounted and started silently to follow the canyon. Turning from side to side, so that he might not miss Teddy if the boy were in that vicinity, Roy, glancing to the south, away from the gully, gave a start. In the distance, far up the mountain, he could see the figure of a man on horseback.

“Teddy!” he yelled, then the next moment regretted it. That was not Teddy. He rode differently, slouched to one side. Quickly Roy moved out of sight behind a bush and peered through. The man was gone. Roy could not tell whether he had heard his hail or not.

“Jimminy! he looked familiar.” The boy was puzzled. “I’ve seen a rider just like that somewhere. I wonder if—” Then he smiled to himself at the absurdity of it. The rustlers they had captured were in jail at Hawley. That fellow who had wanted to shoot Froud for knifing his friend Brand was certainly behind bars.

“It couldn’t have been him up there! Yet that slouch and the queer way he held his shoulders!”

Roy had not known how vividly the picture of that night had been impressed in his memory. The ride to the north fence—the long wait—then the coming of the rustlers with Froud leading them and the others following, among them one with that strange slouch. No, Roy had not consciously marked the peculiarity of that side-riding horseman. Yet now, when he saw one who recalled the scene, he pictured the rider almost as vividly as if he were before his eyes.

Keenly the boy swept the mountain top with his gaze, but the puncher had disappeared. Roy shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess I’ll never know,” he commented grimly. “But how could it be that rustler when he’s over in Hawley playing solitaire in a cell? My eyes must be doing tricks.”

Star whinnied softly, recalling Roy from his reverie.

“Thanks, baby,” the boy said with a little chuckle. “You’re a grand little alarm-clock, I’ll tell a maverick! Let’s be going.”

With the disappearance of the strange horseman, Roy’s mind reverted to Teddy with a sickening fear. A frown came to his face and he chirped to Star, who was moving restlessly forward. With a jump the pony went into a gallop.

“Hey, you!” came a sudden call.

Roy jerked his head around in amazement.

“Where you bound for? Eagles, to get the evenin’ mail?”

“Nick!”

“Why not?”

A puncher rode into the open and approached Roy. His tanned face wore a broad grin.

“What’s yore hurry?”

“Nick! Have you seen Teddy? Is he safe?”

“Sure, he’s safe!” the cowboy chuckled. “Safe an’ sound. He’ll be here in a minute. I spotted him followin’ the gully like a lost sheep. Listen! Think I hear him now. Say—”

But Roy waited no longer. With a yell he started Star toward the sound of the approaching horseman. In a moment the two brothers were face to face.

“Teddy! I was afraid you were—”

“I thought you were—”

They both stopped. Teddy thrust out his hand, and, for a brief moment, it met Roy’s in a firm grip that spoke of what was in the heart of each. Then Teddy chuckled.

“Quite a show, hey, Roy?”

“I’ll tell a maverick! But, Teddy, when the rocks were busting down a mile a minute and roaring like thunder and the dust started to rise, didn’t it remind you of—now tell the truth—didn’t it remind you of the eruption of the volcano in ‘The Fall of Pompeii?’ ”

Teddy laughed softly, and side by side the two boys rode toward the X Bar X. Nick, whistling softly, led the way. The sun flashed a last blaze of orange and pink as it sank behind the hills.

Far to the rear, on the mountain top, was a lone horseman, his hand shading his eyes, peering intently at the three riders. Silent and immobile as a statue he sat, slouching sideways in the saddle, as though he were discouraged and weary after a long, long ride.