For several moments the situation remained thus; the boy ranchers and their friends were on one side of Spur Creek, determined to repulse any attempt on the part of the strange horseman, who was on the opposite shore, to cross and make a landing. In this case it might be considered a legal taking possession of disputed land, and open the way for a band of sheep men to enter. On the other side was the lone horseman calmly puffing at his cigaret, as if literally taking the advice of Yellin' Kid.
The three boys, and the older cowboys also, had their guns in readiness for action, but it was easy to guess that the lone horseman, unless he was extremely foolhardy, would not attempt to do anything in the face of such odds.
More than two minutes passed, and if you want to know how long this is in a tense situation take out your watch and count the seconds.
Then the stranger on the Mexican side of Spur Creek tossed away his smouldering cigaret stub, took a deep breath and exhaled the smoke. Next he spoke softly.
"You will have no sheep,señors?" he asked.
"Nary a sheep!" declared Billee Dobb, "an' you can tell them that sent you!"
A half smile—a contemptuous smirk of the lips—seamed for a moment the bronzed, weather-beaten and wrinkled face of the lone horseman. He tightened the reins and his steed made ready to gallop off.
"I shall see you again,señors.Adios!" he cried, and, with a graceful wave of his hand he wheeled and rode off as fast as he had approached.
For a few seconds longer there was silence in the ranks of those holding Fort Spur Creek as it might be called. Then Bud broke out with:
"What do you make of that?"
"Can't make much," admitted Old Billee. "If he came to find out whether we were ready, he went away satisfied."
"Regular stage and moving picture stuff!" commented Nort.
"I believe the fellow was an actor," laughed Dick. "The way he flipped his cigaret and waved to us—he must have been in the movies sometime."
"I'll movie him if he comes on this side of Spur Creek!" muttered Snake Purdee. "Him and his 'adios'! Nothin' but a Greaser, I'll wager!"
"He had his nerve with him," said Old Billee. "But, boys, we mustn't let him get ours. He came to spy out and see what he could pick up."
"Well, he found us ready for him!" exclaimed Yellin' Kid.
"Yes, but maybe he'll go back and report that we aren't ready enough," said Billee.
"What do you mean?" asked Bud.
"I mean he has sized up our force, and he and his gang may be able to bring up enough to beat us back. You see, boys, this land is a rich prize, not only for sheep men but for any who want to use it for grazing. It has water and good grass."
"Well, what's the matter with 'em stayin' on their own side of Spur Creek?" asked Snake, growling out the words.
"That's where they should stay, by rights," said Billee, "and it's where we intend to keep 'em. The other land is open to those who stake it out, I suppose, but on this side it belongs to your father, Bud."
"The trouble is he has to prove it," answered the boy rancher.
"Yes, and that's going to be hard with his papers stolen the way they are," admitted Billee. "Of course it was a put up job, and I have my suspicions of who did it. But this land would be a rich prize for a sheep herder or anybody else, and we've got to fight 'em off."
"Who are you suspicious of?" demanded Bud.
"Never you mind," was the enigmatical answer, given with a shake of the head, "but I have 'em all right. However, that's another matter. What we have to do now is to get ready to meet any of these sheep men if they come up and try to cross the creek."
"You reckon he's gone back to his gang to tell 'em to get ready to come here?" asked Snake.
"Shouldn't wonder," admitted Billee. "But it'll be some time before they can bring up the woollies."
"Sheep travel fast, they eat fast and they ruin water and pastures faster'n Sam Hill!" exclaimed Yellin' Kid, and this was true. If you have ever watched a flock of sheep feeding you would know this. They eat as though they feared some one was going to take all the grass away on a moment's notice.
"Well, he's ridin' fast," observed Snake, as, shading his eyes with his hat, he gazed in the direction taken by the lone horseman. The fellow was almost out of sight now, and soon was lost to view.
Danger now seemed more imminent than it had been, and, as behooved efficient cowboys, our friends at once began going over the situation and making sure that they had done all that was possible to fortify their position.
Of course, while I have referred to the shack hurriedly erected as a "fort," it was nothing of the sort. There were no heavy walls, and of course no artillery, though the boys wished they did have a machine gun. But, on the other hand, no artillery would be brought up against them, so this evened matters up. If it came to a fight there would be only revolvers used on both sides at first, though later rifles might come into play. However, not even the most rabid of the cowboys from Diamond X really wanted a bloody fight. They would much rather the sheep men kept away, leaving the rightful owners of the land in possession.
But, as Billee had said, the stealing of Mr. Merkel's papers seemed to indicate some deep-laid plot to cheat him of his land that was so valuable.
"We're in as good shape as we can be, until it comes to a showdown and a fight," remarked Billee, when the noon-day meal was served, after they had gone carefully over the defense. "Did you get your dad?" he asked Bud.
"Yes, I had him on the wire," answered the son of the owner of Diamond X. "Nothing new has developed back home, and I told him about this fellow. He thinks, as we do, that he was a spy."
"And, the more I think of it, the more I think I have seen that fellow before," remarked Nort, with a puzzled air.
"Seen him before—what do you mean?" asked Dick.
"Well, his face seemed familiar at first, and then when he lit his cigaret and threw it away, he reminded me of some one."
"Some one in the movies, maybe," said Bud.
"Well, that's what I thought at first," admitted Nort, "though the more I think of it the more I'm certain that I've seen him out here—some time ago. I wish I could recall it."
"I can't place him," said Dick. "Stop thinking of it, Nort. It may come to you all of a sudden."
"It may not amount to anything, anyhow," Nort admitted. "But I have a feeling that I had a run in with that man before."
There was little to do at Spur Creek except await developments, and this waiting was really harder work than actual fighting would have been. It was also more nervous, keeping them all on a strain.
The approach of the enemy and by "enemy" I mean sheep men who might try to pasture their flocks on Mr. Merkel's land, or men who might try to take possession of it—these enemies would appear on the southern side of Spur Creek first, as it was well known there were the largest sheep ranches—just across the Mexican border. And pretty well cropped off were the vast fields, too. That is why there was such an eagerness to get into new and fertile ranges.
In consequence of this, watch was kept on that side of the stream where the lone horseman had appeared. To the north, east and west little danger was apprehended.
On the second day after the parley with this "spy," as he was dubbed, a moving cloud of dust was observed approaching from the north.
You may be sure it did not go long unnoticed, and Dick raised a cry as soon as he saw the indication of someone, or something, coming.
"Get out your guns!" he shouted.
"Maybe it's somebody from Diamond X," spoke Nort.
And a little later it could be seen that the dust was caused by three steers rushing over the dry prairie.
"Must have been a stampede up at your place, Bud," remarked Snake Purdee, as he and the other cowboys rode out in answer to Dick's alarm. "These got away from the main herd. We'll round 'em up."
With their usual loud cries the cowboys rode toward the fleeing cattle, which seemed maddened by some fear, for they never slackened pace. But by skillful rope-throwing two were downed and secured. The third, and fleeter of the trio furnished a bit of amusement for the holders of the fort.
"I'll bulldog him!" shouted Snake Purdee. "Lay off, Kid!" he called to the yeller, for now that his leg was mending Yellin' Kid began to take an active part in all that went on.
"Bulldogging" is a term used in the West to indicate sort of wrestling match with a steer, and the completion of the act sees the animal thrown prone to the ground by the strength and skill of the cowboy.
Urging his pony to a fast pace, Snake rode up alongside the rushing steer and then, when near enough, the cowboy leaped from his horse and raced on foot alongside the steer. Snake reached out and shot his right arm around the animal's neck, reaching over and under until he could grasp the loose, bottom skin. While he was doing this he had to keep pace with the steer, and at times Snake was lifted clear from the ground, while, now and again, he had to throw his legs out to keep them clear of the knees of the now maddened beast.
But Snake had performed this feat before, and was one of the most expert at therodeogames whenever they were held.
His right arm now over the steer's neck, and with his right hand firmly grasping the loose lower, neck-skin, Snake reached out his left hand and caught hold of the tip of the animal's left horn. This was the position he had been working to secure, and the instant he had it, Snake lunged his body downward against his own left elbow, which brought almost his entire weight, at a powerful leverage, against the brute's horn. At the same time Snake was pulling with his right hand and the effect of this was to twist the steer's neck so that the animal lost its balance.
Its speed slackened and, a moment later it toppled over on its side, and lay there quite exhausted by its run. Though this may sound cruel it was not, and the steer suffered no harm. In fact it was benefited, for its mad race was ended, and there was no telling what might have happened if it had kept on.
The instant Snake saw the steer about to topple over he released his hold and sprang away.
"Well done!" cried Bud. "That was a dandy!"
"Wish I could do that!" sighed Dick.
"Oh, you will, some day," consoled his cousin.
The three runaway steers were thus secured, and as there was no place to care for them at the Fort one of the cowboys was delegated to haze them back to the main herd at Diamond X.
Another day passed in quietness, with no sign from the south of Spur Creek that any hostile band of sheep herders was on the way to lay waste, in a sense, the fertile lands of Mr. Merkel. In the meanwhile there was telephone communication twice a day, or oftener, between the Fort and the main ranch house.
Nothing new had transpired at Diamond X, and the boy ranchers were told that matters in Happy Valley were peaceful.
Of course there were the usual occurrences as there were always such on a big ranch. One or more of the cowboys was continually getting hurt, more or less seriously, and being doctored in the rough and ready fashion that, perforce, prevails in the unsettled part of the West.
For though the life of a cowboy may seem very picturesque when you view it from a seat in a tent or say from Madison Square Garden, in New York, the real facts of the case are vastly different.
No one can ride horses in the slap-dash style the cowboys ride them, and they can not handle cattle—often vicious ones—the way the beasts are handled, without accidents happening.
Nor are cowboys the ones to favor themselves for the sake of avoiding risks. Rather they go out of their way to look for trouble, as it were.
They are filled with bravado.
So it was that while I have said matters were quiet at the two ranches, yet small accidents were continually happening. But, as the boys reported, after a talk over the wire, nothing of great moment had taken place.
"Your dad hasn't heard anything about his stolen papers, has he?" inquired Billee.
"Nary a thing," answered Bud in the vernacular of the west, "and he's beginning to wonder if anything is going to happen down here."
Almost as Bud spoke there came a hail from one of the cowboys who was on the watch, and his cry was instantly taken up with the shout:
"Somebody's coming!"
At once there was an exodus, and as our heroes and their cowboy friends lined up in front of the shack, they saw, coming toward them on the opposite side of Spur Creek, several horsemen, and at the sight of one rider Bud cried:
"It's Professor Wright!"
This announcement, calling attention to the approach of the scientist, rather overshadowed other matters for a moment. But the interest was made more intense when the identity of the men accompanying the professor was made known.
"He's in with a bunch of Greasers!" cried Snake Purdee.
"And look who one of 'em is!" added Nort. "It's thespy!"
Without doubt one of the approaching party was the same Mexican who had so airily bidden our friends "adios," on the occasion of his first visit.
"Well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed Bud.
"What do you reckon the professor is doing, or was doing, over there?" asked Nort.
No one answered him, but Bud turned toward Old Billee.
The veteran cow puncher had spoken of "suspicions." Bud wondered if they were along a line that might connect with the professor. But if Old Billee had anything to say he was keeping it to himself. Though there was a quizzical look on his face as he observed the approaching horseman, of whom Professor Wright appeared to form the nucleus.
"If those fellows think they can cover up their game by getting one of our friends to accompany them, they've got another guess coming," said Bud grimly.
"That's right—don't let 'em cross!" cried Dick.
But the "spy," as he was called for want of a better name, and his Mexican companions, seemed to have no intentions of fording Spur Creek which, though rather wide, was not very deep in some places. Reining in their horses when yet several hundred feet from the southern bank of the stream, the Mexicans halted, and the one who had ridden up alone several days before, waved his hand toward the waiting cowboys, and then motioned to the professor as if saying:
"There are your friends."
As a matter of fact that is what he did say, for Professor Wright said so when, a little later, he had urged his horse across the creek, and had joined the boy ranchers and their friends.
Watching the scientist cross the stream, the Mexicans stood for a moment, rather picturesque figures on the southern bank and then, when the "spy" had again lighted a cigaret, and waved his hand as if in mocking farewell, the band rode off.
It was a very silent contingent from Diamond X that watched the lone approach of Professor Wright. The scientist seemed worn to weariness, and looked worried as he smiled at his acquaintances and said:
"Well, here I am."
"So we see," observed Billee Dobb, dryly, not to say sarcastically.
"Where have you been?" asked Bud.
"Did they capture you and hold you for ransom?" Nort wanted to know.
"What happened?" asked Dick.
"With my usual stupidity I became lost again," explained Professor Wright. "I have been out looking around, 'prospecting,' I believe it is called, seeking a new deposit of fossil bones. I wandered farther than I intended, and got across the creek. I found I was on the wrong trail, and that there was nothing much of interest there, so I turned to come back. But I must have turned the wrong way, and have gone south instead of north, for I began to note signs that I was approaching the Mexican border.
"I started back then, when these gentlemen overtook me. They were very kind and when I told them where I wanted to go they agreed to accompany me."
"Passing over for the time being the use of the word 'gentlemen,' and realizing that you probably don't know them as well as we do, I'd like to ask if they said why they were coming this way?" asked Billee.
"No, they didn't, and I didn't ask them," replied the professor. "They just seemed to be riding for pleasure."
"Pleasure of their own kind," chuckled Snake.
"Did you see anything of sheep in your wanderings?" asked Yellin' Kid.
The professor thought for a moment before replying. He was always careful to give a correct and exact answer to a question.
"I saw no sheep," he declared.
"That's queer," murmured Billee. "From what news we have it's practically certain they're going to try to rush sheep in here soon, and yet they aren't in sight."
Then Bud bethought himself of something.
"Did yousmellany sheep, Professor?" the boy asked.
Again the scientist thought before answering.
"Yes, Ismelledsheep very strongly, though I saw none," he said. "I distinctly remember the smell of sheep, for it brought back to my mind my youthful days when I used to go to the county fair. Ismelledsheep all right."
"That's more like it!" cried Yellin' Kid.
"Where were they?" asked Billee eagerly.
"That is more than I can say," answered the professor. "We were in a hilly section, when those gentlemen overtook me and kindly offered to escort me here, and it was when the wind blew that I smelled sheep most strongly."
"In what direction was the wind?" asked Nort, for he thought he might get a clue in this way, as he realized the scientist was likely to have noticed natural effects like wind or rain.
"The wind—ah, yes—the wind was blowing from the south," said Professor Wright, after thinking it over for a moment.
"Well, that's where I'd expect 'em to be," declared Old Billee. "They're probably working their way up slowly. Did you see anything else suspicious, Professor—or smell anything?"
"Suspicious!" exclaimed the college man. "What do you mean? Is there anything suspicious in the smell of sheep—or the sight of them, for that matter?"
"I guess you don't understand," spoke Bud. "You have probably been so busy with your research work that you haven't had a chance to hear the news about the opening of the new range land, and the danger of sheep coming in."
"I heard something of this—and the theft of your father's papers—the night I arrived, and caused you so much trouble," the professor admitted. "But, truth to tell, it slipped my mind, and I gave no further thought to it. So you fear the advent of sheep; do you? Are they likely to spread some disease among your cattle?"
"Disease? They'll drive the cattle away!" cried Old Billee, and then it was briefly explained to the professor what a menace the sheep were, though very necessary in their own station of life.
"I'm sorry I didn't observe more closely," said Professor Wright. "As I told you, my mind was filled with thoughts of new fossil deposits I might discover, and I wandered too far. Then these gentlemen found me and showed me the way back."
"They were glad enough of the excuse," murmured Nort.
"Excuse for what?" the scientist wanted to know.
"Excuse for getting back here to have a peep at us," answered Bud. "They wanted to see if we were still on guard," and he explained about the "fort."
"Well, they found us here and waiting," commented Dick grimly.
Professor Wright consented to stay for lunch at the outpost of Diamond X, but declined an invitation to remain over night, saying he must get back to his colleagues who would be wondering over his long absence.
"Are you sure you can find your way back to your camp?" asked Bud, for the scientists were established not far from Mr. Merkel's ranch houses.
"Oh, yes, I can make it all right," was the reply. "Thank you."
And when he was gone, many curious glances followed him. He was always a matter of curiosity to the cowboys for they could not understand his deep interest in digging up the bones of monster animals that had walked the earth millions of years ago. However, Bud and his cousins could appreciate this scientific interest, knowing what it added to the sum of human knowledge.
But now there was a new source of curiosity regarding the professor, and I am frank to say there was no little suspicion. In spite of the fact that (as I have told you in the first book of this series), the professor was cleared of certain suspicions there still remained, in the mind of some persons, suspicions and lurking thoughts.
Why had the scientist returned to Diamond X at the very time when the government opened the land to claimants? Why had he led astray the pursuit of those who fired the shots that night? And now was his explanation of how he happened to be in company with those believed to be sheep herders a good explanation?
These were questions that needed answering, though it may be said that the older cowboys were more concerned about them than were the boy ranchers. They were young enough to be naturally unsuspicious of their scientific friend.
"But I wish I knew what he really crossed the creek for," said Billee.
"Then you don't believe his story?" asked Snake Purdee.
"Not by a long shot!" exclaimed Billee. "Do you?"
"'Twas kinder fishy," admitted the other. "But what would his object be, and what was his game?"
Billee had no chance to answer, for just then the telephone bell jingled, and the veteran cow puncher answered it. He had no sooner given the customary "hello," than the expression on his face changed and he cried:
"You don't say so! That's too bad! All right, some of us will be right over."
"What's the matter?" asked Bud anxiously, coming up just in time to hear Billee's remark.
"There's trouble back at the ranch," was the grim answer. "They have just called for help!"
"Trouble! What sort?"
"Oh, nobody's hurt, as far as that goes," Billee hastened to assure the boy. "But there's been a raid on your cattle. Rustlers up to their old tricks, I reckon. It's a call for help from Diamond X!"
Instantly all were astir in the shack that had been erected as a fort on the bank of Spur Creek, and a rush was made for saddles and the usual trappings of a cowboy. Nor were guns forgotten, for if these would not be needed in fighting off the rustlers, they would be of service in driving back a herd of frightened animals determined to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the source of their alarm.
Billee was overwhelmed with questions.
"Who were they?"
"What did they do?"
"Who was on the wire?"
To all of these the veteran raised a hand for silence.
"I'll tell you all I know," he said.
"Maybe you'd better tell us on the run," suggested Yellin' Kid. "If we're goin' t' help we'd better be moseying along, andprontoat that."
"Good idea," chuckled Old Billee. "Well," he resumed as they hurried toward the corral where their horses were kept, "it was the boss himself speaking on the wire. He didn't say much except to let it out that we'd better get back as soon as we could. He didn't say who it was that caused the ruction, so you know about as much of it as I do. Then he hung up. But I could hear there was some excitement in your place, lads," he went on to the boy ranchers, "for I could hear some of the boys standing around your dad murmurin' an' talkin', an' I heard somebody ask if they got th' bullet out yet."
"Then there must have been shooting!" cried Dick.
"I reckon!" assented Old Billee.
"Cracky!" cried Nort. "This is like old times!"
"You said it!" voiced Bud.
They were all in the saddles now, pulling their ponies sharply around to head for the trail that led back to Diamond X. Then Old Billee bethought him of something.
"I say!" he sung out. "This won't do!"
"What won't?" asked Nort.
"All of us going off this way. We've got to leave some one here to hold the fort, boys. Them onery sheep herders may steal in on us while we're away, and take possession. An' you know," went on Billee with a momentous shake of his head, "possession is nine points of th' law. Somebody's got t' stay here," he decided. "You two fellers'd better do it," and he pointed to two cowboys who had recently come from Diamond X to augment the guard at Spur Creek.
"Aw, Billee!" objected one. "We don't want t' stay here!"
"Have a heart, old man, an' let us come with you!" pleaded the other. "They won't be nothin' doin' here! Them sheep herders have just seen that we're on guard an' they've gone back home t' report. They won't arrive an' be able t' git any sheep here 'fore we can mosey back if we have to."
"That's right!" joined in the first newcomer who had spoken. "Take us along, Billee!"
"Wa'al," said Billee slowly, as if in doubt, "I don't know how much help they'll need back at Diamond X——"
"Better not take any chances," said Snake Purdee.
"I don't believe the sheep men will come back here again very soon," was Yellin' Kid's usual loud-voiced opinion.
"All right—come along then," conceded Billee, and the two cowboys who were on the verge of being left behind rode with the others. It was fast riding, too, for when word comes in that cattle stealers are in the neighborhood of any ranch, it behooves those charged with the safety of men and animals to be on the "jump." There is always more or less theft going on among the western cattle ranches but most of it is on such a small scale that drastic action is not often taken. No ranchman missed an occasional animal, which may be "lifted" because of dire hunger, perhaps, on the part of some needy person.
But when a "bunch" of valuable steers is driven off and when there are indications that an organized attempt is being made to steal more, this shows the presence of cattle rustlers, and concerted action must be taken against them.
It was this thought that was in the minds of all who thus rode "sweatin' leather" from Spur Creek toward Diamond X ranch, and from the glances that each member of the party cast, now and then, at the weapons swinging at their sides in the big holsters, it was evident that if shooting was to be a part of the game, they would be ready for it.
"Things are livening up a bit, aren't they?" remarked Nort to Bud as the boys rode side by side.
"That's the way they ought to be," declared Dick. "I hate sitting around and waiting for something to happen."
"We didn't have to wait very long," chuckled Bud.
"That's right," agreed Nort. "Wonder who it is that's been after your dad's cattle now?" he ventured.
"Maybe some of the old gang—maybe a new one," replied Bud. "You never can tell."
"You mean Del Pinzo's old gang?" asked Dick.
"He's the worst of the lot—always was and always will be," declared Bud.
"But how does he keep out of jail?" Nort wanted to know.
"That's one of the mysteries of it," went on Bud. "We've had him sent up more than once, but he gets out again by some sort of lawyer's trick. Either that or he breaks jail. The jails around here aren't anything to boast of," he said with a laugh. "They're more a joke than anything else."
"Do you reckon Del Pinzo is out now?" asked Nort.
"Shouldn't wonder a bit," Bud assented. "We can tell whether he had a hand in this or not as soon as we hear dad tell what happened."
Musing on the wily, mean and desperate tricks of this renegade Mexican half-breed, if such was his nationality, the Boy Ranchers and their friends galloped along over the trail to Diamond X. On the way they looked for signs of any cattle raids, but saw none. And these signs are very plain when they do occur.
Generally they were in the shape of the half-eaten carcass of some steer, for the raiders were generally desperate and hungry men, and before driving off a bunch of cattle they would kill one and cut off enough to roast over a hastily built fire.
But there were no indications of that now, and, in fact, there were none of Mr. Merkel's cattle pastured in the section our friends rode over to get to the ranch headquarters.
"Most of the herds are farther north," explained Billee, "an' I reckon that's where th' rustlin' took place."
This proved to be the case when they arrived at Diamond X and had a chance to get some information. Mr. Merkel was out at one of the corrals, talking to some of his men, when his son and nephews rode up with the cowboys from Spur Creek.
"What's the good word, Dad?" greeted Bud.
"Sorry there isn't any good word—it's mostly bad," was the reply. "I didn't like to pull you off from down there," he went on, "but as you didn't seem to be very busy, and as we needed you up here, there didn't seem to be anything else to do."
"Oh, we were glad to come!" Nort hastened to say.
"What's doin'?" asked Billee.
"They're after us again—the rustlers," announced Mr. Merkel.
"Same old gang?" asked Bud.
"I reckon so," his father answered. "It looks like the hand of Del Pinzo. You have to give that rascal credit for knowing just how and when to strike."
"Then he's out of jail again?" asked Yellin' Kid.
"That's what some of the boys seem to think," replied Mr. Merkel. "Here's what happened."
Briefly he told how during a time when many of his men were driving to the nearest railroad station a bunch of choice steers for shipment to Kansas City, a raid was made on an outlying herd that was being fattened in a sheltered valley for future shipment. Not only were a hundred or more steers driven off, but one cowboy of Diamond X was killed and another wounded.
"And didn't our boys shoot back?" demanded Bud indignantly.
"Oh, yes, they gave a good account of themselves," his father replied. "They got three of the Greasers. That's how we made pretty sure it was Del Pinzo again. They were just his type of rascals.
"And so, because I didn't have men enough here to take after the crowd and get my cattle back, and, at the same time, run things on the ranch, I had to send for you. We'll have to let Spur Creek look after itself for a while."
"I reckon it can, Dad," said Bud. "The sheep herders won't come up for a few days yet, I guess," and he told of the latest development in which Professor Wright was concerned.
"Hum! So he was lost again, was he!" mused Mr. Merkel. "Seems to me he's getting into a regular habit that way."
"Does look so," chuckled Nort. "He's all right in his own way——"
"But he doesn't weigh much!" laughed Bud, perpetrating an old joke at the expense of the professor's thin frame, for he did not have much flesh on his bones. More than one cowboy privately recommended to Bud that his father "pasture" the professor out on some good grass for a season.
"Well, now you know as much as I do," went on Mr. Merkel. "Our cattle have been stolen, and the gang—Del Pinzo's, I'm pretty certain—is driving them south. It's up to us to get after them."
"And we will!" cried Bud. "As soon as we have a bite to eat and can pack up some grub——"
He paused, for the telephone began ringing violently.
Bud, being the nearest to the instrument which was sending out its call from a small shed near the corral—an extension line having been established there—Bud sprang to answer it.
"Hello! Hello!" he called, in his excitement his voice resembling that of Yellin' Kid. "This is Diamond X," Bud went on. "What's the trouble?"
He listened for a moment and then called:
"We'll be right over!"
Hanging up the receiver with a bang on the hook, Bud hurried out of the shed and cried:
"They're at it again! Rustlers just cut out a bunch at North Station and they're hazing 'em off!"
"Whew!" whistled Mr. Merkel. "This is getting serious!"
Little time was lost. Instead of stopping for a "bite," the boy ranchers and their companions hastily swallowed some coffee that "Ma" Merkel and Nell made ready for them. Some "grub" was hastily packed, for the expedition might be out all night—very likely would—and then, saddles, girths and guns having been hastily inspected, the cowboys set forth.
To the bunch that had been on guard at Spur Creek was added some other punchers from Diamond X—as many as could be spared. This was not a large number, for, as Mr. Merkel had said, he had sent some of his men to drive his shipment of steers to the railroad.
This latest raid, word of which had been telephoned in from a distant place by a cowboy who had witnessed it, had taken place at what was called "North Station." This was a sort of auxiliary ranch Mr. Merkel had started when he secured more range land in the spring. By pasturing some cattle around there, several miles were saved in shipping his steers after fattening them up. And, as I have told you, nothing so soon takes valuable fat off cattle as driving them long distances to feed, to water or to a shipping point.
The boy ranchers knew little of North Station, having been there but once, though the trail to it was plain. And as they rode they talked of what might have taken place there.
"Guess whoever was in charge wasn't keepin' a very good lookout, or he'd have stopped the rustlers," observed Snake Purdee.
"Oh, you can't tell," said Billee Dobb. "Accidents will happen, and Del Pinzo is as slick as they come."
They all knew this to be true.
"Well, there's one thing in our favor," remarked Bud, as he urged his horse up between the steeds of Nort and Dick.
"What's that?" asked the latter.
"We're after the rustlers right quick," went on Bud. "Red Dugan, who telephoned in, said the gang driving off our cattle was still in sight as he was talking. So we ought to overtake them by dark."
"Not much fun fighting after dark," observed Dick dubiously.
"That's right," agreed his brother. "You can't tell who you're shooting at or who's shooting at you. How did Red come to be on the job so quickly?" he inquired of Bud.
"Well, you know dad has a lot of telephones set up at different places over his range," the owner's son explained. "He says it doesn't cost much to string a line of his own, and it's mighty handy when you want to send word back to headquarters. It proved so in this case. For Red was out on a distant part of the range, where there happened to be a branch telephone in a box on a pole, and he shot in word of the raid."
"Mighty lucky he did," observed Nort.
"Yes, for we're on the trail almost as soon as the rustlers took it," said Bud.
And indeed the boy ranchers were on the trail, riding hard; for they were some miles from where the raid had taken place, and they knew the rustlers would not spare the cattle they were driving away. For the thieves cared little about running fat off the stock they had "lifted." All they desired was to get what animals they could, to be sold to some other unscrupulous band, or used for food. Little consideration would be given to the steers.
After keeping to the main trail for some distance, the pursuers struck off to the right, heading more to the south, for it was in this direction they might expect to overtake the rustlers.
Old Billee, who was riding ahead with Yellin' Kid, keeping an anxious lookout for any signs of the rustlers, suddenly raised his hand as a signal to stop. Those following him, including the boy ranchers, pulled in their steeds.
"What's the matter?" called Bud. "See something?"
"No, but I feel something," was the somewhat strange answer.
"What do you mean?" asked Yellin' Kid.
"I mean I'm hungry!" and Old Billee chuckled. "If, as they say, an army fights on its stomach, the same is true about a cowboy. If we're goin' to do any fightin'—an' I reckon we are—then I got to eat!"
"I'm right glad to hear you disperse them there sentiments!" chuckled Snake Purdee. "I was goin' t' tighten up my belt another hole or two, to make my stomach take up less room, but if you're goin' t' eat——"
"Might as well, an' rest the hosses a bit," said Billee. "We'll do all the better afterward."
Accordingly they halted, the horses were turned out to graze, and a fire was built over which bacon could be sizzled and coffee made. These two staples formed the basis of most meals when the cowboys were on the trail, as they were now.
No time was wasted, but Billee knew how to handle his men, and he did not insist on an immediate start after the meal. He knew the value of a little rest after food had been taken. The horses, too, would be fresher for a wait.
But while the afternoon was still young they were on their way again, and before dark they had reached the headquarters of North Station, an auxiliary to Diamond X ranch.
"You fellows got here pretty quick," observed Sam Tod, the foreman at North Station.
"Well, we didn't stop to play mumble-th'-peg along th' way," chuckled Billee. "Now let's hear the yarn straight."
It was hastily told, bearing out what had already been learned of it over the telephone.
"Pack us up a little more grub and we'll keep on," said Billee Dobb to Sam, when the narration was ended.
"You'd better call it a day and stay here for the night," counseled Sam.
"Nothin' doin'!" declared Billee earnestly. "We're goin' t' hit th' trail hard!"
"Now listen a moment," begged Sam. "I know this part of the country better 'n what you do, Billee, though I give in to you on lots of points. This section is pretty rough, an' them rustlers won't be able to make any kind of speed with th' cattle. You can catch up t' 'em better if you make an early mornin' start than if you keep on now."
"You think so?" asked Billee, who was not "sot in his ways," as he often said.
"I'm sure of it," declared Sam.
"Wa'al, mebby you're right," conceded the veteran cowboy. "What say, fellows?" and he appealed to Bud and the others.
"I say let's stay here for th' night," decided Yellin' Kid. "As Sam says, we can make better time in th' mornin'. Th' rustlers can't drive cattle only so fast, anyhow."
"Unless they stampede 'em," put in Bud.
"That's what they did t' get away from where we had 'em pastured," declared Sam. "But if they get 'em that wild now the animals is likely t' break away, an' that isn't what this bunch of Greasers is countin' on."
"I guess you're right," admitted Bud. "It's about a fifty-fifty proposition, and we'd better wait here over night."
This decided, little time was lost in taking saddles from the horses and turning them into the corral, while their riders made ready to wash up, prepare for the evening meal and rest.
As Snake Purdee turned his pony in and hung the saddle over the fence he noticed a small enclosure in one corner of the corral, in which were two rather sorry-looking specimens of horseflesh.
"What you got there, Sam?" he asked, nodding toward the two sequestered steeds.
"Oh, couple a' outlaws," was the answer.
Snake's eyes seemed to sparkle with new light.
"Reg'lar man-killers?" he asked eagerly.
"Might call 'em that," assented Sam with a smile.
"Can't nobody ride em?" went on Snake.
"Th' last man what did has a broken leg on one side, an' a lot of skin chawed off on th' other," answered the foreman grimly.
"Whoopee!" yelled Snake, "I'll ride 'em! I'll fan 'em! Wow! Now for some fun!"
"Fun!" exclaimed Dick, who knew what was in prospect. "Oh, boy!" he added to his brother, "now for some rough riding!"