Silently the little circle of ranchers, young and old, gazed at the ominous warning Nort had picked up. Yellin' Kid was the first to speak, following the reading of the message on the dirty piece of bag paper.
"Well, I'll be horn-swoggled!" voiced the Kid in his usual loud tones.
Billee Dobb looked sharply from Nort to Dick and then at Bud.
"This any of your doin's?" he asked.
"Our doings! What do you mean?" challenged Bud.
"I mean you aren't getting up some stunts for the rodeo—oh, I forgot—that's off," the veteran puncher hastened to add. "But none of you youngsters did this, I hope."
"Dropped that warning?" questioned Dick. "I should say not! I didn't do it!"
"Nor I!" voiced Nort. "I picked it up, and I can see, Billee, you might naturally be suspicious of me as one who knew just where to locate this piece of paper. But I had nothing to do with it."
"Nor I!" said Bud. "'Tisn't my idea of the right kind of a joke to play."
"You never can tell what young fellows will do," murmured Old Billee."But I'm glad to hear you three say you had nothing to do with it.Sort of relieves me."
"'Tisn't my kind of writing," went on Dick as though he thought, because he had given the first alarm and had been, in fact, the only one to view the midnight intruder, that more suspicion might attach to him as the joker than to any one else.
"I'm not much on writin' myself," declared Yellin' Kid, "and while I might say I'd be proud if I could sling a pen the way this feller did, I want it distinctly understood I didn't have nothin' to do with it."
"You needn't tell the folks in the next county about it," gently chided Billee. Then he took the paper from Snake Purdee, who was curiously examining it, and subjected it to a close scrutiny.
"Make anything of it, Billee?" asked Yellin' Kid endeavoring to put the soft pedal on his voice.
"The writin' ain't that of anybody I know," said the veteran, "and I can't, offhand, recall anybody whose initials are S.T. But Tim Mellick, who keeps the store over at Palmo, has paper bags of the same kind of stuff as this."
"I don't believe that will be much of a clew," said Dick. "Most paper bags are alike, and store keepers get their supply of them from a wholesale house that supplies a hundred customers."
"No, I don't reckon we can do much toward pickin' up the trail of this fellow from that scrap," admitted Billee. "So the next best thing to do is to get breakfust."
"That's right—let's eat!" exclaimed Snake.
"But you aren't going to throw that away; are you?" asked Dick as he saw Billee folding the ragged piece of brown paper containing the sinister warning.
"Throw it away? Oh, no! Of course I'm not. I'm going to keep it until I can find out what it means."
"What it means is plain enough," said Bud. "Somebody doesn't want us to go on to Death Valley and Dot and Dash ranch."
"All the more reason why we should go on there and see what it means!" cried Nort.
"That's the talk!" echoed his brother and cousin.
"If they're trying to scare us away, they'll find we don't scare worth a cent," added Bud.
"It goes to prove, though," remarked Dick, "that Billee's story is likely to be borne out. I mean that there's something queer going on at Death Valley."
"Queer is right!" assented Bud. "Though whether this is a warning in our interests, sent by one who doesn't want to see any of us get put out of business with the poisoned water, or whether it's a warning to keep away so we won't discover some crooked business—that's something we can't answer."
"Not yet," said Billee Dobb significantly. "But we'll soon be able to. I've got my mind made up, now. I'm going to see this thing through to the finish!" and he smote his right fist into his open left hand with a sound like the report of a small gun.
"That's the way to talk!" cried Yellin' Kid. "I wish I'd had a sight of the fellow who dropped that warning," he went on. "He would be sitting down here now talking Turkey and tellin' what it was all about. Why didn't you call me first, Dick?"
"I raised the alarm as soon as I could wake myself up," was the answer."But I guess we were all sleeping pretty sound."
While Snake was frying the bacon and making the coffee, some of the others cast about the camp in a circle, seeking some clew to the midnight visitor. But nothing could be found that shed any light on the mystery. It was evident that the man, whoever he was, had ridden to the camp, had picketed his horse out some distance and then had sneaked in among the prostrate, sleeping figures. Evidently his object was merely to leave the warning, and not to rob or commit some more serious crime. And his touching the foot of Dick was an accident. Then, seeing he had caused an alarm, the man slipped away, dropping his note.
Puzzle their heads as they did, none of the six could recall any one, either among their friends or enemies, whose initials were S.T. and Dick's suggestion, that the symbols of a name were only assumed, seemed to be generally accepted.
Breakfast was eaten, camp was broken and once more, after another casual casting about for possible clews to the intruder, the cavalcade was under way. But one more night separated them from the vicinity of Death Valley and the new ranch.
"And the sooner we can get there and begin checking up on some of the things we've heard the better I'll like it," remarked Bud.
"I guess we all will," echoed Nort.
"I only hope we'll find something tangible, and not a lot more mysteries," spoke Dick.
"It'll probably turn out to be poisoned springs or bad water," suggested Yellin' Kid. "That's the most reasonable explanation."
"Um!" was all Billee Dobb would reply to that.
They made rather good time that day, as the trail was now downward for they had passed the range of low hills outside of the valley. And when night came, and they were once more camped out, they knew that the following day would see them at Dot and Dash ranch.
"What about standing guard to-night?" asked Bud of his cousins when camp was established and a good supper had been eaten.
"'Twon't do any harm to have sentry-go," agreed Dick.
"But the chances are a hundred to one against anything happening to disturb us," said Nort. "That fellow isn't likely to come back."
"I agree with you," said Bud. "But, all the same, I think we'll all sleep sounder if we stand watch and watch."
"It'll be our turn," declared Snake. "We three old gazaboes will take turns. You kids had last night. This is ours."
It was no more than fair and the boy ranchers were glad enough to let the men act as sentries. So Billee, Snake and Yellin' Kid arranged it among themselves, leaving the night to uninterrupted slumber for the three boys.
"That is, we'll sleep if nothing wakes us," said Bud.
And nothing did. Nor did any of the cowboys, who took turns staying awake during the night, report any untoward occurrences. But in spite of that fact when Bud went to the grub box to get out some bacon he found, stuck in a pack, a folded brown paper, like the one on which the other warning was written. And this message was of like import with the other. It said:
However there was no signature to this. But none was needed to make it certain that it was from the same hand.
"Well, what do you know about that!" cried Nort when he saw what Bud had found.
"How'd he get in camp to leave that warning without being seen or heard?" asked Dick.
"Guess it's up to us," admitted Billee with a sheepish smile. "We old geezers must 'a' been asleep at the switch. No tellin' which one it was," he went on, "'ceptin' I'll swear nobody slipped past when I was on guard."
"And nobody came into camp while I was sentry," added Snake.
"That goes for me, too!" came from Yellin' Kid.
"Then we'll all have to plead guilty," chuckled Billee. "Anyhow here's the warnin' and it looks as if this fellow, whoever he is, was follerin' us up to discourage us from going on."
"Well, he shan't discourage me!" exclaimed Bud.
"Nor me!" came in a duet from Nort and Dick.
"That's the ticket! Then we'll go on!" said Billee. "But I would like to know," he murmured, "how this chap can sneak in and out of a camp without rousing somebody. I sure would!"
However there was nothing more to be done. And after making sure no clews could be picked up, the second warning was placed with the first, in Billee's big leather wallet, and the travelers prepared to resume the trail.
They were now in a wilder and more lonesome country than any they had ever before visited. It was distinctly the "bad lands," but often in such a region can be found isolated places where abundant water and herbage offer ideal sites for cattle raising.
Such, Mr. Merkel had said, was his new Dot and Dash ranch. And it was apparent to the boys and their older companions, as they rode along, that the valley was a good locality for raising cattle.
"This must be the place," said Bud as they began riding down the opposite side of the slope they had climbed to cross the low range of mountains. "It's just as dad described it. I'll show these papers to whoever's in charge and they'll know we have come to take over the ranch." He tapped in his pocket a bundle of documents which his father had given him to show the transfer of authority.
"Yes, that's Dot and Dash," said Billee as he recalled some of the familiar landmarks. "This is the place where I used to punch cattle."
"Seems to be a right nice sort of a place," murmured Snake. "And I reckon them tales about all the cattle droppin' dead are fakes. Look at that herd," and he pointed to a collection of dots on a distant hill.
"Nobody saidallthe cows died!" retorted Billee. "And maybe the bad spell, whatever it was, has worked itself out. I hope so. But there's Dot and Dash all right," and he waved to a collection of ranch buildings that came into view with a turn of the trail.
In a short time they had traversed the slope and were on the level and green floor of a pleasant valley, long and narrow, yet wide enough to give space to several big ranches. The hills were barren and rugged in some places, and wooded in others.
On up to the ranch rode the cavalcade, the thoughts of the boys busy with many things. It was rather a tamer entry than they had counted on after Billee's stories and the receipt of the two dramatic warnings.
"Guess we aren't going to have any trouble after all," said Dick as they rode their horses to the hitching rail, made the reins fast and dismounted to enter the main house.
"It's quiet enough," said Nort
"'Tis, for a fact," echoed Bud. "Doesn't seem to be anybody around here for me to serve my possession papers on!" he chuckled. "Hello! Anybody home?" he called loudly.
There was no answer save the echoes of his voice through the rambling building.
"Give 'em a call, Kid, you can make yourself heard," suggested Snake, and the yeller let out a ringing shout.
Still there was no reply and the silence was beginning to get on the nerves of the boys when Billee, who had been roaming around, came in with a queer look on his face.
"What's the matter?" asked Bud.
"There's a dead man outside in the yard," was the quiet answer of the veteran puncher.
This news, so startling, coming as it did after the strange silence that seemed to wrap Dot and Dash in a pall, and following the talk that had been going on the last few days concerning the sinister aspect of the situation, was enough to startle any one. And the boy ranchers were no exception.
"A dead man?" gasped Bud.
"Who is he?" Nort wanted to know.
"Who killed him?" was Dick's question.
To these inquiries Old Billee Dobb returned no answer. As for Yellin' Kid and Snake Purdee, they just stood in the middle of the deserted living room of the ranch house and stared at the old puncher. Death did not frighten, nor was it anything new to the cowboys. Yet Billee's news was startling.
"Let's go have a look at him," suggested Yellin' Kid, in no whit lowering his voice as he might reasonably be expected to do under the circumstances. "Where is he? Do you know him, Billee?"
"Never saw him this side of sole leather as far as I know," answered the veteran. "But he's out there by the corral, and here's another thing. If we're going to turn our ponies loose into that same corral the fence has got to be mended. 'Twon't hold a yearling as it is now."
"That can be 'tended to later," remarked Snake. "Let's go have a look at this poor gazaboo you say has cashed in."
"It looks as if Death Valley was living up to its name," said Nort to Bud as he and the other lads followed the men out of the silent and deserted house.
"Can't tell yet," was Bud's rejoinder. "This may be just a natural death, and somebody that has no connection with this ranch. Lots of passing strangers stop at our place and he may have stopped here."
"Well, even then, that doesn't say what killed him," protested Nort.
"We'll soon find out," went on Bud. "Come on."
Billee Dobb was leading the way toward his startling discovery, and a moment later the whole outfit from Diamond X came upon the body. It lay, as Billee had said, near a corral the fence of which was much in need of repairs. The man was a typical cowboy, with a bright red neckerchief and sheepskin chaps. His gun had fallen from the holster and lay beside him. His horse was nowhere to be seen, and a cowboy without a pony between his legs, or at least in his immediate vicinity, is like Hamlet with the melancholy Dane left out.
"There he is," said Billee in a low voice.
Snake and Yellin' Kid stopped in their tracks. But Bud, who, perhaps, was too young to feel any squeamishness at the proximity to death, hurried forward and knelt beside the motionless figure. Seeing what their chum had done, Nort and Dick started to follow. But they were halted, when they had almost reached the man, by Bud's voice exclaiming:
"He isn't dead at all! He's breathing!"
"He is?" cried Nort.
"Sure! He isn't dead at all! Get me some water. We ought to have a doctor, but maybe we can pull him around until we can find one. But get some water—pronto!"
Dick slung his canteen around, pulled out the stopper and, an instant later, was kneeling beside Bud and the stranger. Nort helped Bud, on the opposite side, support the man's head, which appeared to be but loosely attached to his body and the boys finally succeeded in forcing a little water between the almost lifeless lips.
"We ought to have some sort of a stimulant," said Bud as he noticed a faint flickering of the man's eyelids, as though life was struggling hard to return to the frame it had almost decided to vacate.
"I got some aromatic ammonia in my saddle bags," said Dick. "Your mother put it in with a lot of other medicine, thinking we might need it."
"We do, now, and mighty bad!" exclaimed Bud. "Rustle it here, Dick."
A little later the powerful heart stimulant, mixed with a little water, was being administered to the stranger, and when the fumes of it had done their work the fluttering of his eyelids became stronger.
"He's comin' 'round," observed Billee who, with his two older companions, had drawn nearer to observe what the boys were doing.
"Looks like you didn't call the turn on him after all," said Yellin'Kid, for once in his life at least lowering his voice.
"I hope I didn't," said Billee. "I'd like him to pull through. Maybe he can tell us what's wrong with Dot and Dash."
"Don't look like there was anything wrong," commented Snake, letting his eyes rove away from the prostrate stranger to the wide reaches of the ranch and the valley in which it was so snugly located. "This seems to be a right proper place to raise cattle. I only wish it was mine. I'm tired of being just a puncher. I'd like to own this place. I think it's all bunk what you been tellin' us, Billee."
"You wait," was all Billee would reply. "You can't tell by squintin' at a toad how much wool there is on him, and you can't give a ranch a good name just by lookin' it over. You wait!"
By this time the ammonia had completed its work and restored to consciousness the prostrate stranger. He was able to sit up now, without being supported by Bud and his cousins. And as he supported himself on one hand, while with the other he reached for his fallen gun, he murmured:
"Who are you and what happened?"
"Stranger," pronounced Billee, who, by common consent seemed to be the spokesman, "we can answer the first part of your question but not the last. All we know is we arrived here to find you—er—stretched out like you was takin' a sleep." Billee had a certain delicacy about mentioning death, now that the man was so evidently alive.
"As for us, we're from Mr. Merkel's ranch—Diamond X—and we're sent here to take charge of Dot and Dash. You may have heard of us and you may not."
"Oh, yes, I've heard of you," was the somewhat unexpected answer. "In fact I was waiting for you to come to take charge."
"Then you aren't a stranger here?" asked Bud.
"Well, I been here a few days, that's all. I was Mr. Barter's foreman up to the time he quit, and sold out, so he told me. He asked me to stay here and turn the place over to the new owner. Merkel—yes, that's the name. I was away when the deal went through."
"I have the papers here," said Bud, reaching for the documents in his pocket.
"'Tain't necessary. I'll take your word for it, my boy. And now that you're in charge I'm going to vamoose. I've had full and plenty."
He struggled to his feet, plainly showing how weak he was, swayed unsteadily for a moment and then staggered to a bench on the shady side of the bunk house not far from the corral.
"If I could have another nip of whatever that was you gave me—" he murmured.
Bud gave him the remainder of the ammonia and it brought a tinge of color to the tanned and leathery cheeks of the puncher.
"I guess I can light out now," he went on. "Have you seen my pony—oh,I forgot—he's dead. Well——"
He looked at the untenanted corral and then to the bunch of tethered animals the outfit from Diamond X had brought with them.
"Look here!" exclaimed Bud. "Do you mind telling us what happened? We have heard strange stories about this ranch and don't know whether or not to believe them. We found you stretched out and——"
"Sort of took me for dead; didn't you?" asked the man.
Now that he had given the opening Billee had no hesitation in replying:
"We sure thought you had cashed in."
"Well, I nearly did," said the man. "I believe I would have been dead in a short time if you hadn't come along. My horse is dead, I'm sure of that. And how I managed to drag myself here after he collapsed under me is more than I know. But I did, hoping I might get some help. Then I passed out. That's all I know until I found myself sitting up and drinking camphor water."
"'Tisn't camphor," said Bud. "It's aromatic ammonia."
"Oh," murmured the man. "Well, sort of tasted like the old camphor bottle my mother used when she got faint. However, I'm much obliged. And, now that you're in possession I'll be traveling on. Only—my horse——"
He was as lost without a steed as a sailor would be without a ship, and he was plainly at a loss how to proceed.
"Look here!" broke in Bud, who, as the representative of his father could speak with some authority, "we can't let you go this way. In the first place you're not fit to travel on, and, in the second place we want to hear your story. After that maybe we can fix you up with a pony if you want to leave."
"I'll tell you my story all right," said the man, readily enough. "And thanks for the loan of a horse. As for staying here—after what happened—I guess I don't feel much like it."
"What happened?" asked Dick, eagerly.
"Lots of things, but the main one was that I nearly passed out on account of some deviltry. But I'd better begin at the beginning."
"'Twould seem the most sensible way," said Old Billee. "In the first place what's your name?"
"Sam Tarbell," was the answer.
In an instant Bud, Dick and Nort exchanged glances. Like a flash came to them the memory of the warning paper, signed with the initials S.T. They would fit this man's name—Sam Tarbell.
But if Billee, Snake and Yellin' Kid thought of this coincidence they did not remark upon it.
"Sam Tarbell; eh?" murmured Billee. "I used to know a feller of that name once. Only he was Bill Tarbell. I don't reckon he could 'a' been your brother; could he?"
Sam Tarbell shook his head.
"I never had a brother," he answered. "Well, as I was saying, I been acting as foreman for Mr. Barter a few days back, and when he sold out I agreed to stay and deliver the ranch to the new owners."
"What became of Tim Dolan, who was foreman, and all the other punchers?" asked Snake. "Takes more'n a foreman, which you say you are now, to run a shebang like this. What happened to them?"
"Well," said Sam slowly, "some died and the rest, including Dolan, lit out and that left me. Dolan was foreman, like you said, but he vamoosed in a hurry and I almost cashed in when——"
He suddenly interrupted his story to gaze off across the level plain. The others, following his glance, saw riding along an old man on a somewhat ancient steed. He was an old man with a white beard and flowing, white locks, and as he glimpsed him Sam exclaimed:
"There's the old man now!"
Sam Tarbell suddenly arose from the bench where he had been sitting. But if he had any intention of starting after the old man on the distant horse his resolution was better than his performance. For he had to sink weakly back to his seat, and his face, that had assumed its natural color after the ammonia, now went white again.
"Take it easy!" advised Old Billee in soothing tones.
"Guess I'll have to," and Sam gratefully accepted a dipper of water that Nort handed him, getting the fluid from a pail that sat on a shelf outside the bunkhouse.
"Do you want one of us to chase after that old man?" asked Bud, whileDick inquired:
"Did he have anything to do with knocking you out?"
"No, to both questions, boys," responded Sam. "You can chase that old man for all of me, but I don't think you'll catch him. He's as slippery as an eel. As for his having anything to do with me being knocked out in such a queer way, I can't honestly say he had anything to do with it. I just happened to see him 'fore my horse crumpled under me, and he was riding away when I started to stagger back here as best I could. I hollered at him to give me a lift, but either he didn't hear me or didn't want to. It was just a coincidence that he happened along while I was telling you my story."
Wonderingly the outfit from Diamond X watched the old man slowly riding into the foothills, amid the woods of which he was soon lost to view. And the same thought came to all of them—the memory of the old man who had aroused Dick that night, when, next morning, the mysterious warning was found.
"Do you know that old man's name?" asked Bud.
Sam Tarbell shook his head.
"He's a stranger to me," he answered. "But I've seen him around off and on what little time I been here. I'm beginning to wish I'd never taken the job of puncher or foreman here at Dot and Dash. I've had nothing but bad luck from the start."
"You mean being knocked out like you was dead?" asked Yellin' Kid who, now that there was no mourning to be done, had switched back to his loud tones.
"Lots of things besides that," answered Sam. "I lost one good gun, lamed a good pony and got shook up bad when my other horse, the one that died under me, stepped into a prairie dog's hole and throwed me. Nothing but bad luck. I'm through!"
"Don't blame you for wanting to quit," remarked Bud. "But I hope you'll stay a little longer. As I said you're not fit to travel and——"
"You're right there!" interrupted Sam. "I'm as weak as a new-born calf. But after I get my strength I'm going to vamoose. This ranch is no place for a healthy man—or a sick one either, if you come to that. But I'll tell you what I started to, and give you all the help I can in rounding things up here. Then you can decide for yourselves whether it's worth your while."
"This is Death Valley all right; ain't it?" asked Billee Dobb.
"You said it, stranger! There's been a lot of deaths here, so I been told. I never would have come if I had known what I know now."
"Just what do you know?" asked Dick.
"Do you know what caused the deaths?" Bud inquired.
"No, I can't say I do," was the somewhat hesitant answer. "And that's the mysterious part of it. Only I know I came mighty near passing out and I don't want to do it again."
"Suppose you finish telling us all about it," suggested Bud, the while he looked in the direction taken by the old man who had disappeared. But the picturesque figure was out of sight.
"Well, as I was mentioning, I've been knocking around the country quite a bit," resumed Sam. "I'd have a job first on one ranch and then on another. You fellows know how it is," he said, looking at Snake and Yellin' Kid.
"Sure!" they murmured.
"Well, finally I ended up here and I must say Mr. Barter treated me all right, as he did his other hands. But when cattle began to be found dead all over the place, and when some men and their horses began to pass out, I began to get worried. So did a lot of others and they left so fast it was hard work to run the place with the few hands left.
"I was just getting ready to light out and look for another job when a man came to look the Dot and Dash over with a view, so Mr. Barter said, to buying it. Right after that Dolan, who had agreed to stay, quit sudden like, so I promised to stick and help the boss out and I did. The place was sold, and you say your dad bought it?" he asked, looking at Bud.
"Yes, this is now part of the Merkel holdings," was the answer. "Though my father didn't know anything about the queer deaths on the place when he agreed to buy it. He didn't even know that this was called Death Valley."
"Not until he got back to Diamond X and I told him," put in Billee. "Then he said he wasn't going to back out, 'specially after these boys begged for a chance to chase the jinx."
"Well, they'll get all the chance they want," remarked Sam. "No, I don't reckon Mr. Barter would tell the bad name his place had when he was trying to sell it. I don't say it was right of him to hold back the news, but lots of men would have done what he did. For myself, I never had a chance to talk to your father, so I couldn't have put him wise if I wanted to. Dolan might have, but he didn't. And I guess even Mr. Barter thought the thing would pass over."
"What thing?" asked Dick. "You mean the series of deaths?"
"That's it. They were mighty queer."
"I told 'em that," said Billee. "I used to work here myself years ago," he added. "I thought maybe, after all these years, the bad luck might have passed. But after what happened to you——"
"Just what did happen?" asked Bud. "We want to get down to brass tacks on this thing if we can."
"'Twon't take long to tell you," said Sam. "As I mentioned, I agreed with Mr. Barter to stay on here and look after what few cattle remained until the new owner—that's your dad," and he looked at Bud—"could come along and take possession.
"Well, I was left pretty much alone here, but I didn't mind that, for I'm used to rustling for myself. Mr. Barter left when he got his money, I s'pose, and the cattle wasn't much trouble. There's only a small herd left, and I didn't bother much with 'em—just rode out now and then to see they wasn't being run off. Which they wasn't. But this morning I thought I'd ride to the far end of the range to see if there was any fences needed fixing, so's I could tell the new owner.
"I was riding along when, all of a sudden, my horse began acting queer. Then, 'fore I knew it, he just sort of crumpled up and I just had time to jump or he'd have fallen with me under him. And as I went down I began to feel sort of queer myself. One of the last things I remember seeing in the distance was that old man riding along. Then I went down and out.
"That's all I remember, but I must have had sense enough to start either to walk or crawl back here, and evidently I arrived, for you found me. That's all I know."
"But what knocked you out?" excitedly cried Bud. "And what killed your horse?"
"You can search me!" was the frank answer. "I didn't look the horse over after he died, to see what bit him. As for me, I don't know what ailed me."
"Maybe the old man shot you and the horse," suggested Nort.
"I wouldn't swear the horse hasn't a bullet in him, for I didn't examine him," stated Sam. "But I didn't hear any gun, and I know I got no holes in me."
"Then it was bad water!" said Snake.
"What's that?" Sam inquired, not comprehending.
"You and your horse must 'a' drunk from some poisoned spring," went on Snake, explaining how this theory had been advanced among his companions to account for the mysterious deaths at Dot and Dash.
"Bad water; eh?" murmured Sam. "Well, I certainly did take a drink at a spring, and so did the horse. But it's a spring I always have patronized, so to speak, and it's mighty queer if it would be all right yesterday and poison to-day. Mighty queer!"
"The old man——" began Nort.
"He wasn't nowhere near the spring," interrupted Sam. "I don't believe you got the right dope."
"Well, there's something queer around here, that's sure," declared BudMerkel, "and we're here to find out what it is! We'll be glad to haveyou stay and help us solve the mystery. We need some ranch hands andI'd be glad to take you on."
"Thanks. I've got to stay, anyhow, a few days until I get to feeling more like myself. After that we'll talk business. But I warn you it's dangerous here."
"We knew that before we came," said Bud, quietly.
Much puzzled, and not a little alarmed over the strange story, the members of the outfit from Diamond X now began putting things to rights about the ranch house in preparation to taking over Dot and Dash. While Snake and Yellin' Kid began to repair the corral fence, Bud, his cousins and Old Billee brought their food and supplies into the ranch house and began to arrange for supper, since it was now late afternoon. A look in the bunkhouse showed it to be clean and in good shape.
"I'll take charge out there, with Kid, Snake and this new hand," said Old Billee, referring to Sam Tarbell who had been put in a bunk the better to regain his strength. "You boys'll stay here," and he indicated the ranch house.
"It might be a good idea to divide our force up that way," agreed Bud."Then, in case the jinx comes it won't get all of us at once."
"According to the stories," said Billee, "nothing ever occurs inside.It's all out of doors. Well, we'll see what happens."
In spite of the sinister cloud of fear that hung over the place, the adventurers managed to make a good meal, and when the horses had been turned into the repaired corral preparations were made for the night. Both parties—the one in the bunkhouse and the boys in the main building—decided to keep watch all night.
But their precautions were not needed. Nothing happened. The sun rose bright and warm over Dot and Dash next morning and Sam Tarbell said he felt like a new man after his sleep.
"The first thing to do," decided Bud after matters had been talked over at the breakfast table, "is to have a sort of round-up. I want to see just how many head of cattle are left, and what the chances are for getting more. Also we want to give the whole ranch the once-over."
"That's right," agreed the veteran Billee.
"Shall we all go on the round-up?" asked Dick.
"No," said Bud after a moment of thought, "we'll have to leave some one here in charge. But in time each one of us must know all there is to know about Dot and Dash—I mean just how it's laid out, where the water-holes are, what shape the fences are in and all that. It will take a little time, but this first round-up will tell us some things we ought to know."
"The boy's right!" fairly shouted Yellin' Kid.
Accordingly, when it was decided to leave Snake, Nort and the still somewhat invalid Sam at the ranch house, the others started out.
Nort made the best of being obliged to stay. The choice had fallen to him by lot, as it was decided this was the fairest way of making a division of forces, since other things were equal.
"But you got to tell me everything that happens when you get back!"Nort stipulated to his brother and Bud as they rode away.
"Sure!" they promised.
The three who were left in charge of the ranch buildings watched the others ride off over the hills and then, as there was plenty to do in cleaning up the place, and getting it ready for a number of new hands that must be hired, the two from Diamond X got busy. Sam was able to help with light work.
It was while Nort was busy making a checkup of the household articles on hand that he heard the sound of a horse out near the corral, and, going to the door, saw dismounting, the same old man to whom Sam had called attention the night before.
"Howdy, stranger!" the ancient one greeted Nort, cheerfully.
"How are you?" responded the boy, courteously. "Are you looking for some one?"
"Yes," was the answer. "I'm looking for the boss. I want to warn him and all with him to get away from here as quick as they can! You don't know the danger you are in. You had better leave quick!" And then, though it seemed to take from the force of his words, the old man strode over to the water pail and took a long drink.
Nort was doing some quick thinking. And the burden of his thoughts was to this effect:
"Bud and Dick have ridden off to see if they can solve the mystery, but along comes this queer old man to me, and maybe he holds the key to open the lock. It would be just my good luck!"
So it was with a feeling of elation, rather than otherwise, that Nort watched the aged stranger finish his drink and then come back to where the boy stood near the ranch house. Snake and Sam were in the bunk house.
"Why should we go away from here?" asked Nort, trying to speak easily and naturally. "And what is the danger?"
"Are you the boss?" was the quick retort.
"No, but the boss is my cousin, and he and I, with my brother, are going to run this ranch."
"You'd better run away before you try to run it!" chuckled the old man with what seemed to be sinister humor. "But you can't say I didn't warn you."
"Warn us of what?" asked Nort, a bit sharply. "What do you mean by coming here trying to scare me?"
"I'm not trying to scare you, my boy, I'm just trying to warn you.Those here before you wouldn't listen to me, and what happened to them?They died, that's what happened. Now I'm offering you a chance foryour life and it seems to rile you."
"Oh, no, I'm not mad," and Nort smiled a little. "But I would like to know what you are driving at. Before we came here we heard stories about the danger of Dot and Dash, but no one knew just what the danger was. Now you seem to——"
"Oh, no, I don't, young man!" interrupted the stranger, running his skinny hands through his straggly, white hair. "I don't know what caused all those deaths any more than you do. But I do know if those who are gone—I mean the humans now and not the cattle—I mean if they had taken my Elixer they'd be alive to-day. There she is—Elixer of Life!" and from what seemed to be one of many pockets in his loose coat he pulled out a bottle of dark liquid. Before Nort had a chance to make reply the stranger, holding up the bottle and affectionately patting it from time to time, went on with:
"There she is! Elixer of Life! Made from roots, berries and herbs I gathered myself. Compounded in a secret manner after a recipe given me by an old Indian. It soothes the nerves, strengthens the muscles, clears the brain and prolongs life. Only a dollar a bottle and I can let you have as many as you like. Guaranteed to act as specified and harmless enough so you can give it to babies! There you are—the Elixer of Life!" It was so labeled—spelled with an e instead of i, and as the old man insisted this was right the boys let it go at that. So the stuff remained "elixer" to the end of the chapter.
He produced another bottle from somewhere in the recesses of his long coat and, holding the two phials aloft, advanced upon Nort with a strange light shining in his eyes.
From a distance it must have looked to an observer as if the old man was approaching the boy to hurl the bottles at him with evil intent, for they were high in the air, and over Nort's head. And Snake Purdee must have taken this view of it, for, a moment later, standing in the door of the bunkhouse, the cowboy drew his gun, aimed it at the aged stranger and cried:
"Stand still or I'll bore you!"
The command was so threatening and Snake was in such a good position to shoot that, for a moment, Nort feared a bullet would end the matter. But the old man wheeled about, took in the situation at a glance and mildly said, as he lowered the bottles:
"No harm intended at all. I'm only trying to save this young man's life. You've got no call to shoot me."
"Oh," exclaimed Snake rather lamely, seeing how the matter stood."Well, I don't just like your attitude, and——"
"He's only selling a patent medicine," broke in Nort with a smile."It's the Elixer of Life."
"I make it myself, from roots, berries and herbs," eagerly went on the old man. "Only a dollar a bottle or six for five dollars. If them as were here before you had taken it they'd be alive to-day. But they were scoffers. They spurned me and look what happened to them."
"I've seen you before, old man!" said Sam and there was something menacing in his tone. "I've seen you around this ranch a lot, and I've heard some say you was always around when something happened—I mean when men and cattle were found dead. I saw you just before my own horse died and I passed out and now I want you to explain. I've got you now!"
He made a grab for the old man, who did not seek to elude Sam, but stood quietly while the cowboy held one arm and took out a gun with which he covered the inventor of the Elixer.
"Now, son," said the old man, soothingly, "don't get excited. I haven't done any harm and I don't intend to. It's true you've seen me around this ranch a lot—I live a few miles from here back in the woods. And I've been around when there's been deaths. But I was trying to stop death—not bring it about. Only I was always too late. They never would listen to me—them cowboys. And I was around when I saw your horse go down. I rode back, later, thinking I could sell you a bottle of my Life Elixer before you passed away, but I got there too late. I saw that you had expired so I went on."
"I'm a pretty live man for a dead one!" chuckled Sam. "But what's your game, anyhow?"
He had released his hold of the aged one and had put his gun back in the holster as Snake had done. And then Nort made, unseen by the stranger, a motion to his two companions which served to explain matters. Nort made a circular motion with one finger up near his head as though to indicate wheels going around.
"Oh!" softly murmured Snake, understandingly, and he was echoed by Sam with:
"I'm wise!"
While, as the aged one again raised his Elixer bottles on high Nort with his lips only said the words:
"The poor old man's a bit cracked!"
And so it seemed. He was one of the many harmless but well-meaning "herb doctors" to be found in every community. He had a firm faith in his own concoction.
"Be warned in time, gentlemen," he went on, still offering the Elixer to Nort. "You are alive now, but you may be dead to-morrow. This will save you. One dollar a bottle or six for five."
He now held the two bottles in one hand while, with the other, he went searching through his coat for more. But Nort stopped him with a gesture.
"Two are enough for now," he said, soothingly, handing over a two dollar bill. "But can you tell us anything about the causes for the deaths that have taken place on Dot and Dash ranch?"
"Yes, young man, I can," was the firm answer as the bill was tucked away inside the hat band, "I know all about those deaths. They were caused by a failure to heed my warnings and take this Elixer of Life!
"Be warned in time, gentlemen," went on the old man as he moved over to his horse. "There are three of you, and you have only bought two bottles. At least each one should have his own. I may not be back here and——"
"Oh, shucks! Gimme a bottle!" ejaculated Snake. "And see if you can't tell us what killed these folks and the cattle."
"I can tell you—yes—certainly!" was the quick retort as another bottle of the dark liquid was produced and another dollar added to the hat band bank.
"What was it then?" asked Snake, eagerly, while Nort and Sam waited for the answer.
"The hand of fate!" was the solemn answer. "But now you are safe. You have the Elixer of Life and so death cannot harm you. I bid you good day!"
Before they could stop him, even had they been so inclined, which they were not, the old man left Nort and his chums holding their bottles of Elixer and rode away on his sorry looking nag, crooning something into his ample beard.
"Well, what do you make of that?" asked Snake when the stranger—they had not thought to ask his name—was beyond hearing.
"He's just a harmless crank," said Nort. "An old herb doctor."
"That's what I think," chimed in Sam. "Though at first I was a bit suspicious of him. But I guess he doesn't mean anything. And he don't know anything about the deaths here."
"If he does he isn't telling," decided Nort.
"Well," said Snake slowly, "I'm not superstitious, but as long as I bought this stuff I might as well sample it."
He pulled the cork from the bottle, and was about to take a drink when Nort, with a quick motion, knocked the flask down, almost sending it to the ground.
"What's the idea?" spluttered Snake, for he had his mouth set for a drink, and did not appear to like being balked.
"Better wait until you find out what's in the bottle before you sample it," advised Nort.
"Why, didn't the old gazaboo tell us what it was—Elixer of Life? Some sort of tonic, I reckon, and, believe me, boy, I need something right now!"
"What you need is grub!" broke in Sam. "I'm in the same boat. I'm getting my appetite back," he added with a look at Nort, whose turn it was to get the dinner.
"Well, maybe this will give me an appetite for baked beans," suggestedSnake.
"More likely to take your appetite away," went on Nort. "This may be a good, safe stomach medicine, and, again, it may be deadly poison. I want it analyzed by a chemist before I take any of it. And, even then, I don't believe I'll try any though it may be safe. I don't need it."
"Poison; eh?" mused Snake. "Do you think——"
"No, I don't think this harmless, crack-brained old man had anything to do with the deaths that are said to have taken place at Dot and Dash," interrupted Nort, guessing at Snake's implied question. "But a crank is a dangerous man to have mix your drinks. He may have brewed this from honest herbs, or it may be an extract of toadstools. I'm going slow at it."
"Well, I guess I'd better, too," agreed Snake, ruefully, "I'm glad you didn't let me sample it, Nort."
"It's better to be sure than sorry," said the boy. "Is there a chemist in Los Pompan," and he nodded in the direction of the town that lay nearest to the ranch.
"I don't believe there is," Sam answered. "But there's a doctor and maybe he can tell whether this stuff is safe or not," and he gazed at one of the Elixer bottles he had picked up off the bench where Nort had set them.
"Safe or dangerous, we don't need it," went on the boy. "I only bought it to lead the old man on. But we didn't get much out of him."
"No," assented Snake. "His answers were crazy enough. Guess we'll have to wait until Billee and the others come back to find out what's the real secret of Death Valley."
"Maybe we won't then," suggested Sam, in a low voice.
"Do you mean they won't come back?" asked Nort with a sudden increase in his heart beats.
"Oh,someof 'em are bound to come back," was the not very cheering reply. "The deaths ain't wholesale like that. And maybe nothing won't happen to any of 'em," which was sufficiently clear and hopeful if not very grammatical. "But, even if they all come back, which is more than likely," went on the most recent foreman of Dot and Dash, "that ain't saying they'll find out the secret."
"No, I suppose not," agreed Nort. "Well, we'll hope for the best."
They resumed their labors of getting the group of ranch buildings in shipshape against the return of Bud and the others. Sam had agreed to stay for a while to aid in the check-over and as soon as possible, as Nort knew, Mr. Merkel intended to add to his cattle already on the ranch, and hire more men to look after them.
"I wish we'd found out that old geezer's name and more about him before we let him vamoose," said Snake as he worked away with Nort.
"Yes," agreed the boy, "but so much was happening, and he was so queer, that I forgot about it."
"Guess we all did. Well, we can pick him up again when we need him—if we ever do," chuckled Snake. "I mean if the doctor says this here Elixer is any good."
"If there isn't any harm in it that's the most I expect," came fromNort. "As for finding the old man——"
"He's an eel, I tell you!" broke in Sam. "I've seen him more then once, riding along, that is some time ago, 'fore I was knocked out. But when I tried to come up to him he'd vanish. And to look at it you wouldn't think that cayuse of his was any quicker'n a snail!"
"He must have some hiding place," suggested Snake.
"Maybe," admitted Sam. "But I don't like thathombreand you hear what I'm tellin' you!"
Dinner was served, and eaten with hearty appetites in spite of what had happened and what might take place later. Then more work was done about the place, and as the afternoon waned Nort began to get rather anxious for the return of those who had gone on the round-up.
It was not a round-up in the real sense of the word—but merely a riding around of the place to size it up—to ascertain the number of head of cattle on the ranch, to find out the location of water holes, the best pasture, look to the condition of the fences and such matters as that.
"And I wish, while they were at it, they'd get a Chink cook," said Nort to whom had fallen the task of washing the dishes. "Any chance of getting a yellow man in Los Pompon?" he asked Sam.
"Oh, sure, I should think so. If you can get him to stay."
"Why wouldn't he stay?" Nort wanted to know. And then he remembered and added: "You mean on account of possible deaths?"
"Sure! That's it. Them Chinks is powerful leery about anything like that. But maybe we can get one fresh smuggled over from Mexico and he won't be so particular."
"That's right," agreed Nort as he recalled how desperately eager theCelestials were to be smuggled into the United States.
It was getting dusk, and the three were a bit anxious as they prepared the evening meal, for, as yet, the prospectors, as they might be called, had not returned. Nort was going to suggest that perhaps it might be well to ride out and see if his brother and the others were in sight when the clatter of horses' feet was heard and into the ranch yard came riding the cavalcade.
A quick count showed not one missing, and it was with a relieved heart that Nort greeted Bud and Dick.
"Anything happen?" asked Snake.
"Nary a thing!" boomed out Yellin' Kid. "It was as peaceful as aSunday school picnic. But this is sure some dandy ranch."
"That's right!" chimed in Bud. "We didn't have time to go all over it," he went on to those who had been left behind. "But we saw enough to convince us that dad made no mistake in buying it—that is if we can clear out the jinx."
"But you didn't see any signs of him—or it?" asked Nort.
"Who?" inquired Dick.
"I mean the jinx."
"No, not a thing. Didn't even see a dead calf, and, as we know, they're common enough on a ranch. Everything was lovely."
"It sure is a good buy," went on Bud. "Of course it's a bit run down, and the fences here and there need mending. But there's plenty of water and what cattle there are seem to be in good shape. When we buy a few more herds, and hire some more men to help us, we'll be sitting pretty."
"Then we didn't need to do so much worrying?" questioned Nort.
"Seems not."
"And that warning was all tommyrot!" added Dick with a laugh. "Hello, what's this?" and he picked up one of the bottles of Elixer, for by this time the whole party was in the ranch house, and saw the three flasks on the table.
"Stuff your brother bought to save lives!" chuckled Snake, and the story was told.
"An old man, half crazy; eh?" mused Billee as he listened. "Who is he and what about him?"
"Doesn't seem to amount to much, really," stated Nort. "But I thought we'd better have this stuff analyzed."
"Sure!" assented Billee, and, taking the three bottles he locked them in a wall cupboard and put the key in his pocket.
There was much to talk about at Dot and Dash that night. Nort related the coming and going of the vender of Life's Elixer, and on their part Bud and Dick told of the scenes about the ranch, and added to their first statements that it was an ideal place to raise cattle.
"And there weren't any signs of sudden deaths?" asked Nort.
"Nary a one. It's a shame to call this Death Valley," declared Bud.
The week that followed was a busy one and there was plenty of work for all hands, including Sam Tarbell who, when he found that there was no sudden passing away of any of his new friends or the remaining cattle, decided to stay and work for Dot and Dash.
A careful examination was made in the vicinity where Sam had "keeled over," as he expressed it, and where his horse had died. Nothing suspicious was discovered, however, and there was no way to account for the strange happening. The animal appeared to have died a natural death.
"Of course," Sam said, "my pony might of dropped dead from heart disease, and when he fell I was throwed off and hit my head on a rock. That's what might have knocked me out."
"It's very possible," agreed Bud.
Arrangements were under way for the purchase of two herds from ranchmen in the adjoining county, and several more cowboys had been engaged when, like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, it happened.
Bud, Nort and Dick were riding over to the south end of the ranch one day, to inspect the present herd, with a view to shifting it, when Nort pointed to what looked like several dark bowlders on a distant, grassy slope.
"What are those?" he asked. "Big stones?"
"Stones?" queried Bud and, a moment later, he exclaimed, "Those are dead cattle! Boys, I guess the jinx has come back!"
"Hop to it, boys!" cried Nort, as he dug his spurs lightly against the sides of his pony. The spurs were blunt ones, for Mr. Merkel insisted that his men treat their horses kindly, and the spurs were such in name only. However, even these gentle ticklers indicated to Nort's animal the need of haste and it leaped ahead.
"Come on!" echoed Dick, following his brother's example and guiding his animal toward those silent forms on the grassy hillside.
Bud, however, held his animal back and shouted to his cousins:
"Hold on a minute! Don't be rash! Hold on!"
Nort pulled his pony back so suddenly that the creature reared high in the air. Some time ago Nort would have been unseated by such a trick, but now he stuck to the saddle like a burr to a cow's tail.
"What's the matter?" Nort shot back over his shoulder.
"Don't you want to find out what killed those cattle?" asked Dick, riding back to join his cousin.
"Sure!" Bud replied. "But I don't want to keel over myself. There must be something there that killed those cows, that is if they're dead. And what killed them may kill us, if we go too close, just as it has killed others and nearly did for Sam."
"Those cows are dead all right," declared Nort who, now that his pony was quiet, had taken a pair of field glasses from the case slung at his shoulder and was examining the silent forms. "They're as dead as a last year's sunflower."
"But maybe Bud's right about wanting to be careful before we go any closer," suggested Dick. "You know Uncle Henry warned us not to run our necks in any noose."
"But we got to find out what killed these cows, so we'll know how to guard the others against the same danger," declared Nort. "And if it was poison water they drank, or maybe poison grass they ate, why, we don't want our other animals to do the same thing, or get any poison water ourselves."
"No," agreed Bud, who, having taken the glasses from his cousin, was now making a careful observation, "we don't want to drink any poison water or have cattle eat any poison grass, if there are such things on the ranch. But we can stop a bullet just as easy as a cow can and with just the same bad results for us."
"Bullet?" questioned Nort, wonderingly.
"Do you think those cows were shot?" asked Dick.
"They might have been."
"Who'd do such a thing?" demanded Nort.
"If it was done at all—which I'm not saying for a fact—it probably was done by the same man, or men, who have been doing the other killings in Death Valley."
"But what in the world for?" exclaimed Dick.
"Search me!" answered Bud.
"The other cows weren't shot!" asserted Nort. "Sam's horse that died wasn't shot, and no bullet nipped him or even creased him."
"No," agreed Bud. "I guess I'm out when it comes to guessing those cows were shot. But let's wait a bit before we go any closer. We can't do those dead cows any good and it may save our lives."
Though their curiosity made them eager and anxious, the boy ranchers held themselves in check and while riding slowly around on their ponies kept a keen watch of the territory surrounding the grazing herd and the motionless forms of the dead cows.
But when nearly half an hour had passed, and there was no sign of any human enemy, and when nothing suspicious had been observed, Bud gave the signal to ride on to come closer to the scene of the mystery. During the wait the living members of the herd had exhibited no signs of uneasiness. They wandered around, grazed, ambled here and there, some coming close to look at the boy riders. They behaved like any normal herd of cows. Some of the calves showed their playfulness in kicking up their heels and darting hither and yon, while some of the young bulls engaged in head-butting contests.
"Whatever happened," said Bud as he and his cousins rode nearer, "didn't scare the whole herd. Death must have come silently, and in the night."
"Silently, I grant you, but not necessarily in the night," spoke Dick."It could happen any time, as it did to Sam. That was in the daytime."
"You're right," Bud admitted. "It sure is mighty queer. But maybe we can find out, now that it has happened almost under our noses as you might say."
This section of Dot and Dash ranch consisted of diversified country. There was a wooded portion, with a small stream running through it, and in the distance were rolling hills and dales. It was ideal cow country and the herbage was succulent and rich.
Near the place where the five dead cows were stretched out was the beginning of a long, narrow defile, or gorge which ran back into the hills. Some of these hills were quite high and were covered with a growth of timber. Others consisted of big rocks piled in fantastic fashion as though there had been a volcanic eruption some time when the world was young. Between the hills were small valleys here and there, which made fine, sheltered places for the grazing of cows.
Having satisfied themselves that there was no lurking enemy waiting to attack them, the three young men rode up to the cows. The ponies showed no signs of fear on approaching the dead bodies, as some Eastern horses might have done. A cow pony has no nerves. He gets used to so many queer sights and happenings that even an auto rearing up on its front wheels and running backward while a cow turned somersaults on the fender would not cause a pony to turn his head.
The boys dismounted, pulled the reins of their animals over their heads as an intimation to the creatures not to stray and then made their way toward the cows.
"They're sure dead all right," remarked Bud, prodding the one nearest him with his foot.
"Have you just found it out?" asked Nort.
"No, but I remember what happened to Sam, and I was thinking maybe they might be only stunned, or something like that. But they're dead."
"And not long, either," added Dick, noting the fresh and limp condition of the bodies. "This didn't happen later than last night or early this morning."
"Guess you're right," admitted Bud. "Yes, they're dead sure enough."
"And a total loss," came from Dick. "Can't even sell the fresh beef in Los Pompan. We wouldn't dare, not knowing whether the cows died from poison or not."
"No," agreed Bud. "And it can't be anything but poison of some sort, for I'm sure they weren't struck by lightning."
"There was no storm last night," declared Nort.
As Dick had said, the cows were a total loss, or nearly so, for it would hardly pay to have a skinner come out to flay off the hides of such a small number. Often when a cow or steer is killed by accident the carcass is fit to eat and there is fresh beef on the ranch or the carcass may be sold to the nearest butcher. But in this case it would have been dangerous and foolish to use this cow meat for food.
"Nothing to do but bury 'em and forget it, I guess," sighed Dick. "But it's quite a loss."
"It sure is," remarked Bud. "But we're not going to bury 'em right away—at least not all of 'em, and we're not going to forget it."
"No, I didn't mean just that," went on Dick. "We've got to get to the bottom of this. But why not bury the bodies, Bud?"
"Oh, that will have to be done, of course. But I mean to have some sort of a doctor come out here and look at these cows, or at one of them. Maybe he can tell what killed 'em."
"Good idea," said Nort. "There may be a horse doctor in town."
"I think there is," spoke Bud. "And we'll see if he can tell us anything about what that Life Elixer is composed of. I'd like to have that analyzed."
"Do you think that, or the queer old man, had anything to do with the death of these cows?" Dick wanted to know.
"There's no telling. I'm not going to pass up anything until I find out there's nothing in it!" retorted Bud. "Dot and Dash isn't going to ruin if I can help it!"
"That's the idea!" echoed his cousins.
They rode about the place but could discover nothing wrong. The cows seemed to have dropped in their tracks, dying without a struggle, though the ground around them was considerably cut up by their hooves, as though the animals had "milled" restlessly before death overtook them.
The remaining and live members of the herd showed no uneasiness and no signs of having been injured or disturbed as far as the boys could see by riding among them.
They rode over to the stream, which the ponies showed an anxious desire to drink from, but as Dick was riding his horse toward the clear water, evidently to let the animal plunge its nose in, Bud cried:
"Do you think it's safe?"