A great deal of money changed hands that day. The stock buyers had their wallets loaded with cash when they came a-buying, for, when they had cut out the cattle they wanted, and the price was struck, they were prepared to drive them off at once.
The sales at the round-up had been large, and Ted and the boys sat up late that night, after those guests who had elected to remain over for the festivities of the next day were safely in bed, counting the money and going over the books.
"It has been a mighty good year for us, boys," said Ted, as he contemplated the total of their sales.
"Yes, and, best of all, it leaves us with all the old stock disposed of, and nothing but young and vigorous animals with which to begin building up again," said Kit, who had a great head for the cattle business and a faculty for seeing into the future.
"What aire we goin' ter do with all this yere mazuma?" asked Bud, looking over the stacks of fifties, twenties, tens, and fives that lay on the table around which they were sitting in the living room, and which was flanked by piles of gold and a few hundred-dollar bills.
"Can't get it into the bank until day after to-morrow," said Ted. "We'll be too busy to-morrow looking after our guests, and I don't suppose we'll be free until after the dance to-morrow night. Still, I'm not worrying about it. We know everybody here to-night, and I'll take care of it till we can ride over to Strongburg and bank it."
Just then the door blew open with a bang, and big Ben scurried in, bringing with him a blast of prairie wind, crisp and chill from the mountain, that scattered the greenbacks all over the room, and two or three of the fives were blown into the fire and incinerated before any one could rescue them.
"Close that door!" shouted Bud, grasping frantically at the money that was capering over the top of the table.
Ben closed the door with a slam that shook the house.
"'A fool and his money is soon parted,'" quoted Ben, when he saw the havoc wrought by the wind.
"You bet," said Kit "Three fives blew into the fireplace, and are no more. We'll just charge them to your account."
"Like dolly, you will!" said Ben.
"If it hadn't been for you they wouldn't be there. What's the reason we won't?"
"Because you won't. I didn't make the wind."
"No, but consarn ye, ye let it in, an' ye're an accessory before er after ther fact. I reckon both," said Bud.
"Let it go, boys," said Ted. "Pick up the bills, and we'll count and stack them again."
"Where have you been, anyway?" asked Kit, addressing Ben.
"Down beddin' my show for the night. They're about all in now. All except the music, which will be here in the morning," replied Ben. "I'm not at all stuck on myself, but—"
"Oh, no, you've got a very poor opinion of yourself, I guess," said Kit.
"But I want to say that I think I got the bunkie-doodelest show that ever paced the glimmering, gleaming, gloaming grass of Moon Valley."
"Listen to the hombre explode," said Bud. "He's tryin' ter be a feeble imitation o' a real showman. I'll bet he shows up ter-morrer like a ringmaster in a sucuss, with high, shiny boots an' a long whip an a tall, slick hat, an' crack his whip an' say: 'What will ther leetle lady hev next?'"
Ben blushed, for his ambitions in the show line, now that he had had a taste of it, had really been in that direction, only he wouldn't have had the boys know it for the world.
"How about the show, anyhow, Ben?" asked Ted.
"What have you got? You might as well let us know now."
"Not on your autobiography," answered Ben haughtily. "I want to say, though, that your eyes will bulge like the knobs on a washstand drawer when you see what I've got, and then come to look at the bill for such a stupendous, striking, and singularly successful aggregation of freaks, acts, and divertisements embodied in this colossal and cataclysmic congregation of—"
"Oh, cheese it," said Kit. "You give me the pip."
"All right, have it your own way," sighed Ben. "This is what a fellow gets for serving his country, from Thomas Jefferson to John D. Rockefeller."
"Come on," said Ted persuasively. "Loosen up and tell us what we are to have to-morrow. This is an executive session of the whole."
"You're like a lot of kids the day before Christmas. You've just got to see what mamma's hidden in the closet," said Ben. "Well, I'll let you in on a little of it."
"Shoot when you're ready," said Kit.
"I was over at Strongburg about a month ago, and, knowing that I'd have to rustle up a show soon, I wrote to a theatrical agent in Chicago to let me know if he could furnish me with a good amusement company at small cost. He wrote me that he had the very thing, and offered me one of these bum 'wild west' shows, with a bunch of spavined ponies, a lot of imitation cowboys, fake Indians, and Coney Island target shooters."
"An' yer didn't take 'em?" asked Bud, in surprise.
"Tush! Well, I was up against it, when Morrison, the hotel man, told me that there was a showman in town, and perhaps I might get something out of him.
"I hunted him up. He was a typical showman. Big fellow, large as a Noah's ark, dressed like a sunset, and loud as an eighteen-inch gun."
"I saw the fellow in Soldier Butte the other day. He was talking to Wiley Creviss in the bank," said Ted. "You've described him more picturesquely than I should, but I'm convinced he's the same man."
"I asked him what he had, and he told me he could furnish me on short notice anything from a three-ring circus to a hand organ and monkey," continued Ben. "I told him how much money I wanted to spend, and he said he'd fix me up a show that would make everybody delighted, and I told him to go ahead. The show blew in to-night, and ran up their tents down near the corral."
"How many have you got in it?"
"I've got a balloon ascension for the afternoon, a giant and a midget, a magician, an Egyptian fortune teller, a trick mule, a Circassian beauty, and a strong man." Ben looked around proudly, and the boys burst into peals of laughter.
"Have you scraped the mold off of them yet?" asked Kit.
"How's that?" asked Ben haughtily.
"Have you pulled the burs off the chestnuts?"
"See here, what do you mean? Are you casting aspersions on my show?"
"Not exactly, but I think you've been stung by some old stranded side show that was taking the tie route back home. Circassian beaut! Ho-ho, likewise ha-ha! and some more."
"Ter say nothin' o' a Egyptian fortune teller from Popodunk, Ioway, an' a wild man from ther Quaker village. Oh! give me ther smellin' salts. I'm goin' ter hev ther histrikes," laughed Bud.
"Haf you not got a echukated vooly pig und a feller vot 'eats 'em alife'?" asked Carl.
"That's right, Dutchy. It's a bum show what ain't got them," laughed Bud.
The boys were laughing until the house rang with it, and Stella poked her pretty head out of the door to ask to be told the joke. Bud complied, with many humorous embellishments.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Ben," said Stella sympathetically, "I'll take in the show from start to finish."
"Could friendship go any farther than that?" asked Kit pathetically.
"Oh, you fellows give me a pain," said Ben, rising and stalking off to bed.
He was soon followed by the others, Ted and Kit remaining behind to gather up the money and slip rubber bands around each of the packages of currency.
"We ought to have a safe in the house, Ted," said Kit, looking over the pile of money. "We often have large sums of money in the house, and some time we might get robbed."
"There's not much danger of that, Kit," answered Ted. "There are not many fellows who would have the nerve to come into this house. Too many guns, and too many fellows who are not afraid to shoot them. I'm not afraid."
"What was that?"
Kit was staring at the rear window.
"What?"
"I just looked up and thought I saw a face at the window."
"You're getting imaginative."
Just then the clock struck twelve.
"No, I don't think so. I heard a slight cracking noise and looked up. Something white appeared at the window for an instant. It looked like the face of a child."
"Nonsense. A child couldn't look through that window. It's seven feet from the ground."
"Well, I suppose I was mistaken. Let's hide that money and go to bed."
"Where shall we put it?"
Kit looked around the room, then smiled.
"Why, in the cubby-hole, of course. There's a safe for you. We haven't used it for so long that I'd almost forgotten it."
"The very thing. Nobody'd find it there in a blue moon."
They crossed over to a corner of the room and threw back the corner of a rug. Where the baseboard was mortised at the corner there appeared to have been a patch put in. Ted placed his hand against this, near the top, and it tipped back. It was hung on a pivot, and, as its top went in and the bottom came out, there was revealed a boxlike receptacle about two feet long and six inches deep.
"This is a bully place," said Ted, placing the packages of money within it. "It is known to only five of us, and I'll bet that most of us have forgotten its very existence."
The board was turned back into place and the rug spread out again.
"Safe as in the Strongburg Bank," said Kit. "Well, me for the feathers. We're going to be kept humping to-morrow.Buenas noches."
In a few minutes the big ranch house was dark and quiet; every person in it was sound asleep.
Ted Strong had sunk into a deep and untroubled sleep, for his day had been very active, and he was tired when he lay down.
But he had not been sleeping more than a half hour when he found himself sitting straight up in bed, very wide-awake, and wondering why.
"Something wrong in the house," he muttered to himself.
He sniffed the air to discover the smell of smoke. But it was not that.
Had he locked up? He went over his actions just before retiring, and was sure that he had attended faithfully to everything.
The money! The thought came to him like a blow.
Something had happened to the money.
He was out of bed in a jiffy and slipped into his trousers, and, grabbing his revolver from beneath his pillow, he opened the door and walked softly along the hall in his bare feet.
The hall opened into the living room through an arch in which a portière, made of small pieces of bamboo strung together, was hung.
As he looked cautiously into the living room his elbow struck this, and it rattled sharply in the stillness.
He had heard a faint creak, and, as he peeped around the corner of the arch, he saw dimly the figure of a man near the door, evidently just in the act of opening it.
With a succession of noiseless leaps Ted was across the room, and arrived at the door just as it swung open and the man was about to depart.
But Ted was upon his back with the swiftness of a bobcat, and they came together to the floor with? a crash.
The burglar was beneath, but this did not prevent him from fighting with a desperation that lent strength to his already strong and lithe body.
He was slenderer and younger than Ted, who could feel it in the fellow's build as they struggled.
"Let me out, or I'll kill you," said the burglar, and Ted saw the flash of a knife.
At the same moment something rushed past them in the dark, and out of the door.
As Ted saw it dimly it was small, and its motions were awkward and lumbering. He thought it was a dog, and was about to raise his revolver to fire at it when he thought better of it, as he did not want to arouse the household if he could conquer his man without making a noise.
"Don't shoot," said the man, who had observed Ted's motion with the gun.
At this extraordinary request Ted paused.
He had twisted the man's wrist until he dropped the knife, and then shoved it beyond reach with the muzzle of his revolver.
His strong left hand was in the nape of the fellow's neck, and Ted had his nose ground into the rug. He had found a gun in the fellow's hip pocket, and relieved him of it.
Then Ted rose, and told his captive to get up
Slowly he did so, and Ted made him move to the center of the room.
Bud's golden head appeared around the corner of the doorway.
Ted could just distinguish it.
"Who's that?" asked Bud.
"It's Ted. Come in and strike a light. I've caught something."
In a moment a light flared up.
"Jack Farley!" exclaimed Ted, in astonishment.
"Yes, blast you, Jack Farley," replied the youth.
"Couldn't keep away, eh?"
"A feller'd think thet once was enough," said Bud.
"I couldn't help myself. I had to come," growled Farley.
"Well, this time you'll stay. You shan't abuse our hospitality again. Bud, get a rope and tie our friend. He's skittish, and is likely to run away if he's turned loose."
Farley was soon tied securely.
"Keep an eye on him, Bud," said Ted. "I want to look over the premises."
Ted went directly to the corner and pushed back the pivot door, struck a match, and looked into the box.
It was empty.
Then, turning back to Farley, he searched him thoroughly.
There was no money in his pockets.
Ted called up Kit, and the three of them ransacked the living room thoroughly, but not a dollar could be found. "What did you do with the money you stole from that hole?" said Ted, gazing fiercely into Farley's eyes.
"I haven't seen a dollar of it," was the reply.
After Farley had been securely locked up in a storeroom without windows, they went to bed, feeling secure that there would be no further attempt to enter the house that night.
At breakfast they discussed the robbery after their guests had left the house.
"I don't understand what became of the money," said Ted. "It looks to me like one of those mysterious robberies, and the capture of Farley puts it up to the Riley and Creviss gang. Now that we've been touched personally we will take some interest in the gang, and I have a large crayon picture of about a dozen hitherto respectable young fellows learning useful trades in a reformatory institution."
"But that doesn't bring back our money, neither does it tell us how it was stolen or what became of it," said Ben.
"I can't get a thing out of Farley," said Ted. "I tackled him this morning as soon as I got up, but he wouldn't open his mouth. My belief is that he is in deadly fear of some one, probably Skip Riley."
"Well, we've got him where the hair is short, anyway," said Kit. "He was caught in the act, and will come out of prison an older and a wiser man."
"What else besides Farley did you see in the room, Ted?" asked Stella.
"I really couldn't say what it was," said Ted. "It was dark, and there was only the faintest kind of light outside from the stars. The room was perfectly dark. I was sitting on Farley's back holding him down. He had thrown the door open, and we were in the doorway, but there was a space between us and the door-jamb.
"Suddenly I heard a faint noise beside me and could just see something scud past me onto the veranda."
"What did it look like?"
"It was about as high as a small dog, only shorter and thicker than a dog, and ran with a clumsy, heavy, sideways motion."
"Are you sure it was a dog?"
"No, I'm not sure, for I didn't see it plainly. All I could see was that it looked like some kind of an animal, but just what kind I couldn't determine."
"Your description would lead me to believe that it was a coon."
"No, I don't think it was a coon, or I would have been able to distinguish it by its smell."
"I didn't know but that it might be a coon trained to steal and sneak out. I've heard of such things, and it is by no means impossible, for you know that coons, like crows, are natural-born thieves."
"By Jove, that gives me an idea. I think it was a dog, and that its strange gait was due to the fact that the money had been tied upon him so that he would get away with it in case Farley was caught."
"No, the dog theory is wrong. What about a trained monkey?" Stella looked around the table to see how this was taken.
"C'rect!" shouted Bud. "Stella, yer struck ther problem a solar plexus thet time."
"That does seem reasonable, and if it is true it solves the mysterious robberies of the Strongburg Trust Company's office, the post office, and Creviss' bank," said Ted.
"It's worth looking into, anyway," said Ben. "Now I wonder if there is such a thing as a trained monkey in my marvelous and magnificent gathering of the splendors of the Orient out there. By Jove, I'm going through that camp with a fine-tooth comb, and if I find a monk, I'll habeas-corpus him, and we'll hang him to the rafters."
"Well, mum's the word about the money," warned Ted. "We don't want this thing to leak out. If it does, there's a chance against us."
Although they all felt pretty blue about the loss of the money, they had nothing but hearty welcomes and smiles for their guests, who began to arrive from all parts of the county, and from far-distant States and Territories, to help rejoice with the boys for a prosperous year, not knowing that all the prosperity had fallen into the hands of thieves.
The grounds about the ranch house had been gayly decorated for the occasion. An enormous American flag flapped and snapped in the fresh breeze from the top of a tall staff in front of the house, and the Belle Fourche band was playing in a gayly decorated stand. The showmen had erected their tents, and already the boys and girls from the ranches and towns were going in and out, witnessing the wonders to be beheld in them.
Stella was receiving her girl guests on the veranda, for she was a great favorite among the cowgirls in the country on account of her friendliness and unaffected ways.
Mrs. Graham was welcoming the older women, while Ted and Jack Slate were shaking hands with the ranchmen and cowboys.
Clay's fires were going well, and the steer and sheep were being roasted for the noontime feast.
Ben had gone on a still-hunt among the tents belonging to the showman, and, while he found three small dogs, there was no sign of a monkey, and by adroit questioning he learned that they had had a monkey, but that it had died at Leadville, because the air in that altitude was too cold and rare for it.
These facts he communicated to Ted, and seemed to explode the monkey-thief theory.
During the morning there was a baseball game between the cowboys and the clerks from the stores in Soldier Butte and Strongburg, in which the score was forty-one to three in favor of the clerks. The cowboys couldn't play ball any more than a rabbit, encumbered as they were by their chaps, high-heeled boots, and spurs. It took a home-run hit to get one of them to first base.
After dinner the cowboy sports were to come off.
When Ted could get away from his duties as host for a few minutes he sauntered through the crowd, extending greetings to all whom he knew, but at the same time keeping a close watch over everything.
The theft of the money from the cubby-hole had aroused in him all his detective instincts.
He saw two or three of the young fellows who had been with Wiley Creviss the night of the ball, but he paid no attention to them. They were welcome to come to the festivities, and to remain so long as they behaved themselves.
But he determined to have them watched.
Soon he came upon some more of the Creviss gang and saw them mingle with several boys, whom he knew to be tough characters, from Strongburg.
"The clan is gathering," he said to himself. "We're likely to have trouble with those fellows before the day is over. I'll put Bud next to them, and have the boys watch them."
"Whom do you suppose I saw just now?"
It was Stella's voice, and she was standing at his elbow.
"Who?" he asked.
"Wiley Creviss."
"Is that so? I have been watching for him to come along. A lot of his fellows are here, and they are sticking pretty well together. Where did you see him?"
"I told Ben I'd take in his show even if no one else did, and I've kept my promise. When I was in that biggest tent I suddenly came upon Creviss in close conversation with the boss showman. When they saw me looking at them they separated in a hurry, and Creviss left the tent."
"H'm! I wonder if Ben knows this fellow who owns the show."
"Don't know, I'm sure. It wouldn't be a bad scheme to find out something about him in view of the robbery last night."
"You're right, Stella. Another thing I've been thinking about: I've been looking for Skip Riley, the Strongburg fireman, the supposed leader of the Flying Demons. If they are going to try any of their monkey business to-day he ought to be here."
"Haven't you heard the news? I intended to tell you, but must have forgotten. The last time I was in Strongburg I heard that Riley had resigned, and left the town for the East."
"I hadn't heard it. Then that puts it up to Creviss."
"But who is the fellow who runs the show? Ben says his name is Colonel Ben Robinson, and that he is an old circusman down on his luck temporarily."
"Look around and find out what you can. They will not suspect you if you ask questions as they would me. If you find out anything, let me know."
"All right, Ted, I'll circulate, and report."
Ted wandered over to the show tents, and entered them all, with kindly greetings to the performers, who all knew him as the leader of the broncho boys, and asked him if they could be excused from performing while the riding and other cowboy stunts were going forward, and Ted told them to lay off if they wanted to, as most of the guests would be out in the grand stand, anyhow.
In the last tent he entered he found the strong man lifting weights against a lot of husky cow-punchers, and the giant and midget.
But it was the midget that struck him most forcibly. He had a sly, cunning face and a bad eye, and when Ted came in he tried to hide behind the giant, who picked him up as one would a baby in arms. But the little fellow wriggled free and climbed down the big man like a monkey down a tree. Then he slipped across to the middle of the tent and shinned up the pole to the top, and hung there, looking down at Ted.
"What's the matter with the little fellow?" Ted asked the giant.
"Oh, he ain't got real good sense," rumbled the giant. "His brain stopped growing with his body, I reckon. But you can teach him tricks the same as you can a dog or a monkey, and he'll do them all right. I reckon he's afraid of you. He is of some people, the boss in particular."
"How long have you been with the boss?"
"Not very long. He just took the show over from the old boss a month ago. We were going to pieces over to Cheyenne, and he come along and bought us. He's been a showman in his time, but says he hasn't been in the biz for several years. He knows the biz, though, and has scads of money. We are well fed and get our salaries regular. Him and Prince Carl, that's the midget, are great pals. The midget sleeps in his tent, and the boss seldom lets him out of his sight."
"Say, Bellows, how many times have I got to tell you not to stand there gassing with patrons of the show? Every one don't want to bother with your theories and troubles." Ted turned, to face the boss showman.
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Strong?" he went on. "I didn't recognize your back. It's all right to talk to you. But I've got to call the giant down once in so often for taking up people's time, for he's an awful gabber."
He walked away, but when Ted tried to get the giant to tell him some more about the midget and the boss, he would not say a word.
But the giant had planted the seed of a theory in Ted's mind.
Presently Ted saw Stella beckoning to him in the crowd, and forced his way to her side.
She took his arm, and they got out of the crowd. Ted saw that she had something to communicate.
"Well?" he said, smiling down on her.
"There's going to be something doing here," said she. "The boss showman has been talking with several of the gang."
"All right. Did you hear anything about Skip Riley?"
"Yes. He's been gone from Strongburg about a month."
"Learn anything else about him?"
"Skip Riley is not his name at all."
"That so? What is it? Did you learn?"
"I was talking to a lady from Strongburg, one of those who got him a job on the fire department."
"What did she know about him?"
"She said that she was appointed a committee of one by the Ladies' Aid Society over there to look up the new fireman's career."
"And I suppose she ran onto some hot stuff?"
"It seems that the ex-convict, Skip Riley, had been a circus performer once upon a time, before he took to being a burglar."
"Was burglary the crime for which he was put in prison?"
"Yes, so she says. He was an aëronaut and acrobat."
"Good! And what was his stage name? Did she say?"
"Robinson—Ben Robinson. She says that she was told that he was quite famous in his day as a circus performer, but that he couldn't resist the temptation to steal, and so had to quit the business, as none of the circus proprietors would have him around."
"Did she say where she got this information?"
"Yes. It was sent to her by the warden of the penitentiary in which Riley was confined before he came to Strongburg."
"Then her information is probably correct. Stella, thanks to you, we've got them dead to rights. We've solved the mystery hanging around all these recent robberies."
"Nearly, but not quite. How were they accomplished?"
"That I don't know positively, but I have a theory which I believe will turn out to be correct."
"But about Riley?"
"Ben Robinson, the proprietor of this show, and Skip Riley, burglar and ex-convict, are one and the same man."
"All ready for the big show," cried Kit, riding up to Ted. "When will we begin the sports?"
Ted looked over the grand stand, which was built around an arena in which the cowboy sports were to come off.
This was the most important event of the day, for while bronchobusting and cattle roping are a cowboy's business, yet he finds unending amusement in doing these same things if his girl and friends are there to witness his skill.
After some ordinary feats of trick riding by the visiting cowboys, several really dangerous steers were turned loose in the arena, and for several minutes a very fair imitation of a Spanish bullfight, minus the killing of the animals, took place.
After several of the steers had been roped, thrown, and tied, there still remained in the arena a sullen and difficult brute, which was as tricky as a rat, and the boys gave him up one at a time.
"Why don't you give the girls a chance at him?" shouted a cowgirl derisively, from the seats.
"Any girl who wants to tackle him is at liberty to do so," Ted shouted back through his megaphone.
Instantly three girls leaped into the arena, and borrowed ponies from their cowboy acquaintances.
Ted motioned to Sophy Cozak, the pretty and buxom girl from the Bohemian prairie, whom Bud had admired at the dance; she rode forward on Bud's own particular horse, Ranger.
Sophy had several brothers who had taught her the cow business, and she had few equals on the range.
As she rode out she was greeted with a round of applause from her admirers. She gathered up her rope and sent the horse forward at an easy lope toward the steer, which looked at her a moment and trotted off.
Sophy followed him, and made three casts of the rope, and every time the brute dodged it, and the rope fell to the ground.
That settled it with Sophy, and she rode in, and another girl took her place. She, too, was unsuccessful, as was the third, and the audience was distinctly disappointed.
"Ladies and gentlemen," cried Ted, through the megaphone. "It was not the intention of any one living on the Moon Valley Ranch to take part in these contests, but if there are no other young ladies in the grand stand who would like to try their ropes on the steer, we can produce one whom we think can rope and tie it at the first trial. I refer to Miss Stella Fosdick. I have not consulted her wishes in the matter, but will ask her if she will undertake it."
At this a wild cheer went up, and Ted dashed out of the arena to find Stella. In a moment he was back, and announced that Miss Fosdick would try it.
Presently Stella rode in on Custer at a hard gallop, gathering up her rope as she rode. There was a sort of gay self-confidence in her manner that captivated the throng, and the cheers split the air.
Stella rode straight at the steer, which, seeing her approach; galloped down the arena with her in pursuit.
Swinging her rope above her head, she chased it back until it was about in the middle of the field, and suddenly the rope left her hand unerringly and shot through the air, seemed to hesitate for an instant, then fell over the steer's head.
Custer came to a stop the moment the rope left her hand, with his body well braced. The steer went to the end of the rope as fast as it could go, then was flung in the air, and lay upon his back sprawling like some ridiculous four-legged crab, while the girl leaped from her saddle, ran swiftly across the intervening space, tied his legs together, and held up her hand.
The crowd fairly went wild with enthusiasm at her feat, as she mounted again, leaving the steer to the tender mercies of the cow-punchers, who flocked about her. Then she dashed out of the arena, waving her hat in recognition of the applause.
Then the bunch of wild Montana horses, which never had felt the saddle, were driven in, and Ted offered a twenty-dollar gold piece to any puncher who could rope, saddle, and bridle, and ride one of the bronchos ten minutes without being thrown.
"Easy money!" shouted the cowboys, flocking into the arena.
The black, which had caused Ted so much trouble when the bunch first came to the ranch, was not with them. He was considered too dangerous an animal to be handled at an entertainment where there were so many women and children.
Only two cow-punchers succeeded in even getting their saddles on the bronchos without throwing them and hog-tying them, and only one, Billy Sudden, stayed the required ten minutes, and he said afterward that it wasn't his fault, because the broncho wouldn't let him get off.
Ted then announced that there was another animal in the herd that he would ask no man to ride, but that he would try to do so himself.
Another great cheer went up as Ted rode away after the black demon, to whom the boys had given the name Lucifer, for his supposed resemblance to his satanic majesty.
But it was found impossible to drive Lucifer into the arena.
"Never mind," said Ted, "we'll throw the saddle on him here, and I'll ride him in."
A crowd of men and boys was standing around, and Ted removed his saddle and handed it to a young fellow in the crowd to hold until he had thrown Lucifer. The animal was standing in the center of the circle, his wary eyes taking in the crowd, and letting fly with his heels at the approach of any one.
"Now, Bud," called Ted, "ride in on him and rope him. You, Kit, get him by the leg and throw him, and I'll slip a bridle on him."
It was not much of a trick to rope and hold him so that he couldn't kick. But when Ted tried to slip the bit between his teeth, he fought like the demon that he was, biting and kicking, so that he had to be thrown to his side and his head held down before the bridle could be put on him.
Then he was allowed to rise. There was no doubt but that the horse was insane with rage and fear, and several cowmen came forward and tried to persuade Ted from attempting to ride him, but Ted was as obstinate as the horse, and said that he would conquer the black, or die in the attempt.
He finally found the fellow who had been holding his saddle, although he had left his stand and was found back behind the crowd talking to a gang of young fellows, among whom Ted recognized several of Creviss' companions. This delayed and angered him, and he called the saddle bearer down for deserting his post, and was answered with sneers and laughter.
After many trials, and the exertion of a great deal of patience, Ted got the saddle on Lucifer and hastily cinched, and as he sprang to the brute's back the ropes were loosed. With a bound and a snort of terror the black dashed forward, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Ted swung it so it went through the gates and into the arena without dashing him against the posts.
Once inside the arena, the brute began to exhibit terrible ferocity.
Stella and Bud had followed in his wake, and when the girl saw how the brute was behaving, she whispered to Bud:
"That demon will kill him yet."
"If he don't kill it," answered Bud.
"Why did you let him ride it? I got there a moment too late, and he was already in the saddle, or I should have stopped it."
"What could I do? He had told the people he would ride it, and that settled it with him."
Lucifer was exercising all the tricks known to wild and terrified bronchos when they first feel saddle and bridle, and which seem to be inbred in them. He bucked, but there was never a horse that could buck Ted off. He reared, he kicked, rolled, and fell backward. But every time he stopped for a moment to note the result, there the unshakable enemy was on his back again. Clearly he was puzzled.
Then a new paroxysm of rage would shake him, and he would go through the same performances again, but with no better success.
Suddenly Ted brought his quirt down on the brute's flanks, and it leaped high into the air in an agony of fear and pain. It had felt that stinging thing before, and hated it.
Then it started to run away from this terrible thing that bestrode its back.
"By Heaven! it's running away," muttered Bud. "It'll be an act o' Providence if Ted isn't killed."
Down the arena they dashed, Ted sitting in the saddle as if he and it and the stallion were all of a piece.
When the brute came to the arena's end, and saw before him the shouting multitude, it suddenly swerved to come back, and Ted realized that something had happened to the saddle. It was slipping, and yet he was sure he had cinched it tight. Back they came tearing again, and passed Stella and Bud like a rocket.
"Great guns!" cried Bud, "his saddle's loose. He's a goner now, shore."
Every one saw Ted's danger, for Ted was leaning well over, and the saddle was on the horse's side. A hollow groan went up.
At Bud's first words Stella was off after Ted like a shot.
The horse, as every one could now see, was trying its best to kill Ted, and many of the spectators were positive that it would do so.
Now the cinch had parted.
"The cinch has broken," the shout went up. "It will kill him, sure!" Ted was now leaning far over on the horse's side, his left leg well under the horse's belly and his foot in the stirrup, while the heel of his left, boot was clinging to the edge of the tipped saddle. It was a most precarious position, for if the saddle slipped farther he would go under and be trampled and kicked to death before any one could reach him.
The powerful brute was bent on Ted's destruction, and seemed about to accomplish it, when Stella galloped to his side, and, grasping his hand, held him safe.
"The cinch is off," she called to him. "I'll help you up, then kick the saddle loose."
Slowly but surely Ted worked himself up until he could release his foot from the stirrup. Then, with a sudden wrench that almost pulled Stella to the ground, he was again on top. With a kick he sent the saddle to the ground, and was riding bareback, while the brute stumbled and almost went to his knees as the saddle fell between his legs.
But now Ted took charge of the situation. With quirt and spur he drove the beast here and there, punishing it, giving it no rest, allowing it to do nothing in its own way until it staggered and heaved and swayed with fatigue and lack of breath, and yet he urged it.
"He'll kill that horse yet," said Billy Sudden.
"No, he knows what that horse will stand, and he's going to make him stand it," said Bud.
The people had never seen such riding as this, and when they realized that Ted had conquered the stallion and was now rubbing it in, they shouted until their throats cracked.
At last the horse could go no farther, and Ted let it stop, as he slipped to the ground and gave the brute a slap with his hand.
"I reckon you'll know better next time, old fellow," was all he said, and walked to where his saddle was lying.
As he picked it up, he was seen to stop and look at the cinch carefully, then hurry to where the boys were awaiting him.
"Fellows," he said solemnly, throwing the saddle on the ground, "that cinch did not break, it was cut."
A dozen of the boys leaped to the ground and examined the cinch.
It was true. The cinch had been cut almost through with a sharp knife, and the strain upon it had parted it. There could be no doubt as to what had been intended.
As Stella came riding up, she shouted:
"The cinch was cut. I saw it. Wiley Creviss did it. I didn't realize at the time what he was doing or know that it was Ted's saddle, and when I did find out, he was mounted and away."
A howl of indignation went up at this.
"Scatter out, boys, and round up Creviss," shouted Billy Sudden. "We know what to do with him when he's caught."
Ted's adventure with Lucifer ended the performances in the arena, and, as the balloon was inflated and ready to ascend, the people flocked to where it was straining at the ropes.
Ted had mounted Sultan again, and left the arena surrounded by Stella and the boys.
"Who's going up in her?" asked Ted.
"Ben Robinson, the boss," answered Ben.
"Do you know who he is?" asked Ted.
Ben stared at him without replying.
"I'll tell you," said Ted. "He's Skip Riley, thief and ex-convict, the leader of the Flying Demons. He is the man who caused us to lose our money last night, and who engineered all the mysterious robberies hereabouts. Do you reckon he intends to come back?"
Ben's eyes started from their sockets in surprise.
"I—I don't know," he stammered. "By Jove! we must stop him. Maybe he's going to skip."
The boys had crowded about Ted as he spoke.
"We'll have to hurry if we get him," shouted Ben. "He's in the basket now."
With shouts of warning Ted and the boys pushed their horses through the crowd, which rushed aside to let them through.
They could see Skip Riley lift a large tin box into the basket from the ground. As he was getting ready to start there was a shrill cry, and the midget came waddling through the crowd and climbed over the side of the car and up Riley's body until it clung to his shoulder like a monkey. A great many of the thoughtless laughed at this. They did not understand the significance of the move.
"Get ready to cut her loose," shouted Riley.
Two or three men stood by with sharp knives in their hands.
Riley saw Ted and the boys pushing rapidly through the crowd.
"Cut her loose!" shouted Riley, and the balloon shot upward, amid the shouts of the people.
"Too late,'" said Ben.
"Not yet," cried Ted, spurring through the crowd.
A long guide rope was dragging from the car of the balloon.
"Follow me, Bud. The balance of you catch Creviss and the rest of them. I'm going with Riley."
Before they knew exactly what he meant, Ted grasped the guide rope as it passed over his head, and was swung out of the saddle and dangled in the air, to the horror of the people, who expected to see him fall and be dashed to pieces at any minute, for the balloon had shot up rapidly and was now several hundred feet above the ground.
But Riley, looking over the country and taking account of the direction in which the balloon was traveling, was unaware that he had taken on another passenger.
Hand over hand Ted climbed steadily, until at last he reached the car and looked over the edge of it.
Riley's back was toward him, and noiselessly Ted slipped over the side and into the basket.
Then the midget happened to turn his head, and saw Ted and uttered a frightened cry, which brought Riley around so that he found himself looking into the cold, dark bore of Ted's forty-four.
"Got you!" said Ted coolly.
"How did you get here?" said Riley, trying to smile. "If I'd known that you wanted to come I'd have waited for you."
"I don't think," said Ted. "But now we'll go down."
"No, I've got to give the people a run for their money. We must go a little farther."
"I said we'd go down."
"But we can't until the gas gets cool and exhausts. I have no escape valve."
"Then I'll shoot a hole in the bag. I guess we'll go down then."
"For Heaven's sake, don't do that! You'd blow us all to pieces."
"Then down with her. I mean what I say."
Riley looked at Ted for a moment, then pulled a string. There followed a hissing noise, and the balloon began to sink, slowly at first, then more rapidly.
Ted did not dare take his eyes off Riley to see how close they were to the ground. But he heard the Moon Valley long yell, and knew that they were near the earth, and that Bud Morgan was not far away.
Suddenly the car bumped on the ground, bounced and struck again, then stopped, and Ted heard Bud's cheerful voice right behind him.
"Jumpin' sand hills, so yer got him, eh? Come, climb out," said Bud to Riley, "we need yer on terry firmy."
"Cover him, Bud, while I search him. If he makes a break, kill him. He's an ex-convict, so don't take any chances with him," said Ted.
Riley yielded up a gun and a knife and then he was hustled out of the car, with the midget still clinging to him, and Ted took charge of the tin box.
Billy Sudden and some of his men had come up, and so had Ben and Kit, and Riley was conducted back to the ranch house strongly guarded.
Once inside with their prisoners and the boys, Ted closed the doors on the curious crowd. The first thing he did was to open the tin box. On top were the packages of bills stolen from the cubby-hole, and beneath it a large amount of money and the bonds taken from the Strongburg Trust Company, as well as registered letters from which the money had not yet been extracted, and a large amount of brand-new treasury notes which answered the description of the government funds stolen from Creviss' bank.
"It's all here," said Ted, "and the evidence is complete."
"But how did he manage to do it without leaving a mark or a broken lock behind him?" asked Ben.
"How? By means of this," and Ted placed his hand on the head of the midget, who shrank from him with a snarling cry.
"Still I don't understand it."
"The day I saw him in the Creviss bank he marched out with the plunder under my very eyes. The day before the robbery this fellow went into the bank with the dwarf in his valise. Wiley Creviss was alone. The valise was opened, and the dwarf slipped out of the valise and into the vault, and concealed himself.
"During the night the dwarf collected all the money and bonds he could, and made himself comfortable. When it came time for the bank to open in the morning he again concealed himself, and remained in hiding until noon, when Wiley Creviss again came on watch while the cashier went to dinner. Then Riley, here, entered with his valise, and the dwarf crept into it, and was carried out of the bank with the money."
"But what had the midget to do with the theft of our money?"
"That's simple. Farley and the dwarf were to do the job. The dwarf was sent up to the roof, for he can climb like a monkey, and came down the chimney and opened the door for Farley. That was a mistake, for they would not have been caught, except for Farley."
"How did they know where you hid the money?"
"The dwarf saw us through the window, and Kit saw him, but I thought it was all imagination. That was how they robbed the post office. The dwarf was lowered down the chimney. That is about the size of it. Am I correct, Riley?"
"Correct enough, so far as I'm concerned. I guess it's back to 'the stir' for me. But this midget didn't know what he was doing, and ought to be sent to an asylum instead of the prison," said Riley.
At that moment there was a great commotion without, and a crowd of cowboys rode up. In the center of the circle made by them was Wiley Creviss and several of his gang. In all, with Riley and the dwarf, there were eight of them in custody, and without ado they were hurried to the Strongburg jail.
The United States marshal was in Strongburg when Ted came in with his prisoners.
"What is all this, Strong?" asked the marshal.
"That bank-robbing gang you ordered me to bring in," answered Ted.
"You made quick work of it. Get any of the money?"
"All of it. It is in the Strongburg bank. You see, they made the mistake of robbing us last night. But for that they would have got away, and we would have had a hard time catching them. As it was, they walked right in to us."
Skip Riley went back to the penitentiary for a long term of years, and the midget was sent to an asylum for the feeble-minded.
Jack Farley turned State's evidence, and Creviss and ten other young reprobates were sent to a reformatory.
As for Lucifer, he turned out, next to Sultan and Custer, the best horse on the ranch.