Bud Merkel took a long drink, shook his head several times as though to clear his brain of some benumbing influence and began his story.
"I guess you all know," he said, "how I started over here yesterday to size up our stock to get ready for the first shipment to go from Dot and Dash under the new ownership." His hearers nodded. By this time several other cowboys from the other searching parties had arrived to hear the good news of the finding of Bud.
"Well," went on the young rancher, "I got to the range all right, looked the herd over and found there were more steers ready to ship than we had counted on," and he looked toward his cousins. "Then I thought I'd spend the rest of the morning in exploring Smugglers' Glen. I wanted to see if I could find out where the old Elixer man disappeared to that time he ran away from us," and again he looked at Nort and Dick. The story of the herb doctor was known to most of the cowboys.
"I rode on up into the gulch," continued Bud, "and when I got close to the cave I slid off my horse, for his feet made so much noise on the rocks that I thought if the old man was in the cavern he'd take warning and skip out before I could catch him at work. That's what I wanted to do—see old Tosh at work brewing his stuff. And I wanted to find if there was another entrance or exit from the cavern. I didn't know but what, in case of a big blizzard, we might not shelter some of our stock in the cave if we could open it up more."
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," commented Nort.
"Well, anyhow," resumed Bud, "I got off my pony, tied him to a tree and went on up the glen afoot. I was almost at the cave when, all of a sudden, two or three men came out. They seemed quite surprised to see me, and I certainly was to see them. They weren't any of our men, and they hadn't any right on our range, any more than Old Tosh has, but I guess no one minds him.
"I thought, of course, that these fellows were rustlers—they were rough and tough enough looking to be almost anything. But before I could say or do anything, one of them set down what looked like a tank containing carbonic acid gas, like they use at drug store soda water fountains. I wondered whether these fellows were going into the game of putting pop in the Tosh Elixer, when, all at once I felt sort of queer. I tried to fight off the sensation, but I kept getting weaker until I just crumpled up in a heap.
"I thought of all sorts of things—the stories Billee had told about the sudden deaths here, how Sam Tarbell was overcome and his horse killed and then, just as if I was in a dream, I felt some of those men pick me up and carry me into the cave."
"The darned hijackers!" cried Yellin' Kid.
"Can't we do something to 'em?" demanded Snake angrily.
"Wait," cautioned Bud. "I haven't finished. The men picked me up. I was so weak and knocked out by that peculiar smell, whatever it was, that I couldn't do anything. It was, as I said, just like being in a dream. They laid me down on a pile of bags, or something. It was dark, but they had some lanterns. My eyes were half open so I could see a little. Then they tied me up and after that I don't remember much. I have a hazy recollection, just as you'd have from trying to remember a half-forgotten dream, a recollection of seeing the men moving about the cave, digging out rocks, hammering and crushing them. For a time I thought they might be going to wall up the entrance and bury me there alive.
"Then I must have gone to sleep, or lost consciousness, for everything faded away and the next thing I knew I woke up. It was dark and quiet around me and I began to move my arms and legs. I had been tied up pretty tight, but the knots seemed to be looser now and I managed to work some of them off so I could free myself.
"Then I got up, found a flashlight in my pocket—luckily the men hadn't searched me—and I managed to make my way out of the cave. So here I am—that's all there is to it."
"Well, that's good and plenty!" cried Nort.
"Didn't you stop to see if those men were still there, and what they were doing?" asked Dick.
"No, I didn't feel able," Bud answered wearily. "All I wanted to do was get out, find my horse and ride back to the ranch. But where is Star?" the young rancher suddenly asked, looking around.
"He's safe in the corral," Dick answered. "We found him wandering around without his bridle on when we went to look for you late yesterday afternoon."
"He must have pulled away from the tree where I had him tied and yanked the bridle off that way," Bud said.
"Horses an' bridles ain't much account now!" declared Billee. "The main thing is about these darn varmints that treated Bud so. Who do you think they were—I mean what sort of scamps?" asked the old ranch hand, and he fingered his gun, which several other cowboys were doing.
"I think they were cattle rustlers," answered Bud, who seemed to be feeling better each moment. "They must have been hiding in the cave waiting for a chance to drive off some of our stock, when their plans were spoiled by my happening along."
"That's probably it," agreed Nort. "But what about that soda water cylinder you say they shot at you?"
"I wouldn't call it soda water," stated Bud with a grim smile. "But it contained some sort of gas and they must have shot it at me for it knocked me out."
"How was it they could turn a stream of poison gas, or at least knock-out gas, on you, Bud, and not suffer from it themselves?" asked Dick.
"The wind was blowing straight from them to me, down the glen," was the reply. "The breeze carried the stuff to me and it didn't bother them at all for it floated right from them."
"Just like gas in the war," stated Snake, who had fought in France, as had several of the other husky cowboys. "That's probably what it was, too, some kind of gas they used in the war. It comes in tanks, and the Germans used to lay a shallow trench full of these cylinders, with the openings in 'em pointed our way. Then they'd open a faucet, let the gas out and the wind would blow it right in our faces. If we didn't put on gas masks it was bye-bye for us."
"But," exclaimed Nort, "Bud wasn't killed."
"No," agreed Snake with a grim smile, "and we're darn glad he wasn't. Like as not they didn't use strong gas on him. There's lots of kinds of gas, you know. I took some once to have a tooth yanked out and I laughed to beat the band. Even in war all the gas wasn't sure death. There was a kind that made you cry like you'd lost your best girl."
"That's the explanation then," decided Nort. "These fellows—call 'em rustlers for the time being—have got hold of some kind of knock-out gas and they used it on Bud."
"I sure was knocked out," murmured the young rancher.
"But what's their game?" asked Yellin' Kid in no gentle tones. "If they're rustlers why did they just hold Bud a prisoner a while and then light out and not take any stock?"
"They probably figgered the game was up," suggested Snake, "and wanted to make their get-away. Anyhow they didn't get no stock."
"Are you sure of that?" asked Bud.
By this time nearly all the other members of the searching parties had been gathered near Smugglers' Glen, the more distant ones having been signaled to by shots previously agreed upon. And from the leaders of these squads it was learned that no raid had been made during the night. The whole range had been pretty well covered.
"Well, that's good," said Bud when the welcome news had been conveyed to him.
"Do you think these rustlers were responsible for the deaths here in this valley?" asked Nort. "Have they been setting off this gas—or some even worse—and killing cattle, men and horses?"
Billee Dobb shook his head.
"Death Valley got its name a long while back," he said. "Long before these fellers could have been operating. This is some new dodge, take my word for it."
"It's a queer way to rustle cattle—kill 'em with gas," said Yellin'Kid.
"Oh, they keep the gas for humans that might try to catch 'em, I guess," Billee went on. "That's just something to cover their operations. And it doesn't solve the other deaths that took place here."
"You say you saw those men digging away in the cave, cracking rocks and the like of that?" asked Snake.
"That's what I think I saw," spoke Bud. "Of course I don't knowwhatI really saw and what I may havedreamed, half unconscious as I was.But it's easy to find out if any digging has been done in the cave. Wecan take another trip back there and——"
"That's just what we'll do!" cried Nort
"And we'll catch these fellows an' string 'em up!" cried Sam Tarbell. "They killed my best horse and I'm going to have revenge on 'em. Are you with me, boys?"
"Sure!" cried half a score of cowboys, their hands going to their guns.
"We'll revenge Bud, too!" exclaimed Dick.
"That's the talk!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "Let's get at thesehombresan' chase 'em out of the country!"
Eager and excited, angry, and justly so, the crowd was ready for anything. They would have rushed at once into the defile but that Billee Dobb held up a restraining hand.
"We want to go at this thing calm and cautious like," he said. "We want either to catch these scamps or drive 'em out. At the same time we want to find out what their game is."
"That's right," agreed Bud. "The more I think of it the more I'm sure I didn'tdreamI saw 'em digging something out of the sides of the cave. Theyreally did it."
"Diamonds, maybe!" exclaimed Snake, eagerly.
"Be yourself, boy!" chuckled Yellin' Kid. "Diamonds don't grow out here."
"All right—have it your way," mildly assented Snake.
"So it would be a good thing to see what these birds were up to," went on Bud. "I'm still so sort of knocked out that I can't do much. I've got to get back and rest up. But if you boys want to go back up there and see what you can find, and do, I'm willing."
"We sure will!" cried the crowd as one man.
"Let Billee be the leader," suggested Bud.
And in a few minutes the avengers had formed a sort of plan of battle or attack which, they hoped, would solve some of the mystery of Death Valley.
Bud was to go back to the ranch with some of the cowboys and remain there while the main body of punchers moved up into the glen to capture, if possible, the mysterious men with their more mysterious tank of strange gas. And, after a second consideration of the affair in hand, it was decided that it would be best if the main body of avengers could have one of Fah Moo's hot breakfasts before starting in on what might be a strenuous day's work.
"But if we all go in," objected Nort when this plan was outlined, "those fellows up in the glen may escape, if they haven't already skipped away to stay."
"I've thought of that," stated Old Billee who was sort of commander-in-chief. "We'll send some scouts up to watch and see what happens. Who'll volunteer?"
There was no lack on this score, for though the men were all tired from the night's vigil, on edge from lack of sleep and hungry into the bargain, Billee had three times as many as he needed for scouts.
Cow-punchers are "he-men," and little things like loss of sleep and delay in getting breakfast do not bother them. It was arranged that when the main body returned, after a session with the Chinese cook, they would bring a "snack" for the scout volunteers.
"And some hot coffee in thermos bottles," added Bud, who knew how that would be appreciated. "We have some thermos bottles at the ranch. I only hope I'll feel able to come back and help fight."
"Do you think there'll be a fight?" asked Yellin' Kid, eagerly.
"It's likely," said Billee.
"Whoop-ee!" roared the loud-voiced one and his joyous sentiment was echoed on all sides. Bud looked a little glum that he could not be "in on the fun," as he called it later. But he was more done up than he imagined, for he had gone through a strenuous time, though he had not actually been mistreated.
So while some of the cowboys more recently engaged were sent into the glen as scouts, the main body, with Bud riding on a spare horse which had been brought along for just such an eventuality, went back to the ranch.
There things soon began to "hum," as Nort and Dick expressed it. They had had experience before with desperate and unscrupulous men who, as rustlers, or otherwise, had endeavored to make trouble for the boy ranchers. And the young managers of Dot and Dash did not shrink from the coming conflict.
"Can do—sure!" was the bland reply of Fah Moo when asked if he could get breakfast for the bunch in a hurry. "Sure can do!"
And he did.
Guns were looked to, extra ammunition was packed, hurried snatches of food were the order of the day, and when baskets of grub had been packed for the scouts left on guard, once more the cavalcade started off.
On the way to Smugglers' Glen a sort of campaign was outlined and agreed upon. It was decided to advance on foot against the men in the cave, for the defile was so narrow, and the footing so uncertain because of loose rocks, large and small, that horses would be a disadvantage rather than a help in case of a fight.
"We'll leave the ponies at the entrance, same as Bud did his," suggested Old Billee.
"All alone?" asked Nort. "Some of those fellows may sneak up in our rear and make off with our mounts."
"They won't be unguarded," declared Billee, who was too old a fighter to make the mistake of leaving his rear open to attack. "I'll have a couple of the hands stay with the horses."
"Not me you won't!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "Me, I'm goin' tofight!I'm not goin' to be nurse-maid for a lot of cow ponies!"
"Me either!" declared Snake.
"Order in the ranks!" snapped Billee with blazing eyes. "I'm in charge here, by the instructions of the boss, and I won't have anybody saying what they will and won't do! You heard me!"
He was as different from the usual mild Old Billee Dobb as chalk is from cheese. He was in his element and he knew it.
"No offense, chief," said Yellin' Kid, humbly and in subdued tones."But I do want to get a shot at these fellers!"
"I wonder if Del Pinzo can be back of this gang?" mused Nort as he rode beside his brother toward the glen.
"I wouldn't put it past him," answered Dick. "But I thought he was in jail."
"They don't seem to make, out here, the kind of jails that will keep Del Pinzo behind the bars," commented Nort. "If he's around these diggings he'd be the very one to engineer some dirty trick."
"Speaking of diggings," went on Dick, "what do you reckon it was Bud saw those fellows digging out of the sides of the cave?"
"Give it up, for the time being. We'll find out when we get inside. But in spite of the fact that Bud thinks he saw some queer operations he may have dreamed it all—after that gas attack, you know."
"Yea, I guess so. It's queer all around. Fancy rustlers being so up to date as to use the tactics of chemical warfare."
"There's been a lot of strange things since the Big War," stated Nort."Maybe some of these rustlers were in the chemical division of theA.E.F. and learned tricks there of how to make and send out ofcylinders gas that would knock a man out but not kill him."
"That's possible. But what about the horses, cattle and men who were killed here in Death Valley? I mean years ago, the way Billee tells it. Did these fellows have anything to do with that?"
"Hard to say, but I don't believe so."
"Then what did?"
"That's what we've got to find out after we get through with this gang."
The avengers urged their ponies ahead at a fast clip and the sun was still far from the meridian when they came in sight of the entrance to the defile. Dark and sinister it loomed in contrast to the brightness of the day. What secrets did it hold?
"I wonder if Old Tosh is up there, helping the rustlers?" mused Dick asBillee got ready to call a halt and deploy his forces.
"Don't believe that old yarb doctor does any more harm than giving Chinks the stomach-ache," chuckled Nort. "But he may have rented that cave to those fellows."
"Nervy of him, considering that the cave is on Dot and Dash land," saidDick.
It did not take long to get ready for the attack. Billee named the men he wanted to remain as a rear guard in charge of the horses, and they accepted the detail in as cheerful spirits as possible. To the relief of Yellin' Kid and Snake Purdee, they were not compelled to remain thus inactive.
"Though you fellows may have a fight on your hands," Billee said to the horse guard as he posted them, "these fellows may dash out after we rouse 'em, and it'll be up to you to deal with 'em."
"We'll do that all right, boss," chuckled a big, lanky puncher, one of the new hands hired.
With Nort and Dick at his side, Billee Dobb led the way up into the dark defile. Every man had his gun out and was eager-eyed for what might happen next.
"Don't make any more noise than you can help," cautioned Billee to the men back of him. "We want to surprise thesehombresif we can."
On and on they went, over big and little bowlders, up into the glen where the frowning, towering walls looked down on them. The passage became narrower. They were now approaching the cave.
"Steady, boys!" called Billee as they rounded a turn and came within view of the dark entrance to the cavern.
It was a tense moment. Some of the men carried a gun in either hand. Nort and Dick had one each, and Billee was armed likewise. A little wind began blowing down the gulch in the faces of the attackers. It seemed to bring with it a slight mist.
"Gettin' foggy," commented Snake. "I wonder——"
Then he began to cough and choke. So did Nort, Dick and Old Billee.The white mist came floating nearer.
"Look out, boys!" suddenly shouted Yellin' Kid. "It's a gas attack, same as in the war. Look out!"
A moment later the party was sneezing, coughing and gasping for breath as the faint white mist, blown by the wind, enveloped them. It caused a terrible, gripping sensation, a constriction of the throat muscles so that breathing was difficult.
"They've got us!" yelled Billee. "We can't fight poison gas! Back up, boys! We've got to run!"
It was impossible to advance in the face of this mysterious surprise attack and the avengers were driven back. Gasping, and trying to keep from collapsing under the afflicting sensation, the Dot and Dash men were forced to retreat from their unseen foes.
"Hold on!" yelled Snake Purdee as he swung around a ledge at the edge of the narrow entrance to Smugglers' Glen and made a grab at Nort who was running as fast as he could under the weakening influence of the gas. "It's all right here—the wind will blow the stuff to the east. Swing around here, everybody!" and he indicated a niche to the west of the entrance.
Nort stopped, his brain dully comprehending what Snake meant. Then the others in the wild, frightened retreat sensed what the words were intended to convey and, one after another, they gathered there in comparative safety with Snake, Nort and Dick.
"Whew!" gasped Billee Dobb whose age was telling on him, not only in the rapid, forced retreat, but in the effect of the gas. "That was tough! But what makes you think we'll be safe here, Snake?"
"On account of the wind blowing the gas away from us. Look, there it floats to the east. We're safe here. I didn't get nearly gassed in the war for nothing. We're safe here till the wind shifts and it won't do that right away."
"What about the horses?" gasped Dick, taking deep breaths to rid himself of the gas already breathed.
"They're all right—they're up wind, too!" shouted Yellin' Kid, whose lungs did not seem to have suffered much.
This was true enough. The ponies, with the guard of cowboys, were to the west of the gorge entrance and, as Snake had been quick to observe, the strange, white mist which had so mysteriously floated out of the cave toward the avengers, was drifting, now, out of the mouth of the defile and off to the east.
"If any of the cattle get in the path of that they'll be killed!" exclaimed Dick, noting how the mist clung to the ground and rolled along as fog sometimes does when the clouds are low.
"The bunch isn't down there," said Billee.
"And I don't know as that gas is so very deadly after all," stated Snake, breathing deep after a few cautious inhalations to make sure the air was clear.
"Then what'd you run for?" Yellin' Kid wanted to know.
"Because I wasn't sure of what sort of stuff it was. There's lots of kinds of gas, you know. We had one kind in the war that would just knock a man out for a few hours. I reckon that's the kind they shot at Bud and the kind they just now loosed at us. But I wasn't takin' any chances!"
"I should say not!" cried Billee Dobb. "But now we're out of danger for a while, what's to be done next?"
Nort had the answer ready in a moment.
"Gas masks!" he exclaimed.
"Gas masks?" echoed Billee.
"Sure! I get you!" cried Snake. "That's the ticket! Gas masks! Same as we used in war when the Germans let their gas loose. Why didn't I think of it before?"
"There's been so much happening!" remarked Dick, "that it's a wonder we thought of half we did. But gas masks would be just what is needed here. Only where are we going to get them?"
Up spoke one of the new cowboys to observe:
"There's a branch of the American Legion in Los Pompan. I belong to it and so do some of the other boys. 'Tain't much of a branch, but they got some war relics hangin' around the meetin' room, and I seen some gas masks there the last time I was in. I reckon we can borrow them without any trouble."
"Golly! That's the cheese!" cried Nort.
"But are the masks any good?" Dick asked. "If they're relics of the war they're likely to be old and no good. And a gas mask that won't keep gas out is worse than none at all."
"You're right there!" exclaimed Sim Roller, who had proposed the matter. "Some of the masks are the same as the boys used in France. But others are new ones they got from the gov'ment lately to decorate the meetin' room. I reckon they'd be fresh, with charcoal in and everything needed."
"Will you see if you can get some for us?" asked Billee, who was in charge during the forced absence of Bud.
"Sure!"
"Good!" cried Nort. "Then we'll come back and have another go at these fellows!"
"Yes, it will need another go," remarked Billee, looking at the entrance to the defile out of which a faint mist was still floating. "We don't dare go back at 'em now, unprotected. They're regular devils, that's what they are! Devils!"
"Wonder what their game is?" mused Dick as he and his brother, with the other cowboys, moved to where their horses were picketed in charge of the guard.
"They want to keep us out of that glen," suggested Nort.
"But why?" went on Dick.
"So they can poison more cattle and bust up this ranch and rustle what stock they don't kill," was what Nort answered.
"It doesn't seem reasonable that they'd poison cattle," and Dick shook his head. "What good would dead ones be to them? They can't be sold, and it wouldn't pay to kill 'em just for the hides."
"No, that's so," admitted Nort. "But they evidently want to keep us out of that glen, and drive us away from the ranch if possible, so they can have it for themselves."
"Part of that seems like to be true," spoke Billee, taking a part in the discussion. "But this isn't the first time there have been queer doings at Dot and Dash. Years ago I'm pretty sure there was no band of devils up here with cylinders of gas. This is something new."
"Tell me, Billee," resumed Nort, "on what sections of the ranch did most of the deaths occur—I mean when you worked here?"
"Well," and the veteran scratched his head reflectively, "as near as I can remember they was all somewhere near this glen, come to think of it."
"And this is where Sam Tarbell's horse was killed and where Sam was knocked out—near this glen; wasn't it?" went on Nort.
"That's true enough."
"And it's from this glen that Bud got his dose of poison gas and where, just now, we got ours; isn't it?"
"Sure," Billee was forced to say.
"Well, then," went on Nort, "isn't it reasonable to suppose that this band—or some bunch like it—has been doing this right along?"
Here Billee shook his head.
"You can't make me believe," he said, "that this gang, or one like it, has been doin' this gas business all along. In the first place the earliest, mysterious death on Dot and Dash took place many years ago, before poison gas in war was thought of. I won't deny that this bunch back there," and he nodded in the direction of Smugglers' Glen, "I won't deny but what they may be usin' war gas. But it wasn't so years ago.".
"Then it looks," spoke Dick, "as if these men had some object in keeping us out of the glen."
"That's it!" cried Billee. "There's something up there they don't want us to find out."
"Maybe it's the secret Old Tosh has of makin' sarsaparilla," said Snake.
"No," objected Dick, "I don't believe the old man is mixed up in this at all. He was in the cave, that's sure, but I think this bunch of rascals with their poison gas have deposed him and taken possession for their own ends."
"And what those ends are it's for us to find out," suggested Nort.
"Sure!" cried his companions.
"We'll get gas masks and make another attack!" added Snake.
"I wonder what we'll find?" mused Dick.
"Bud could have told if they hadn't knocked him out," suggested Nort. "He says he saw them pounding rocks and digging in the sides of the cave. They were after something besides cattle, that's sure."
"Diamonds!" some one said.
"That's been mentioned before," remarked Dick. "It is out of the question, I think, but it may be something always associated with diamonds."
"What's that?" exclaimed several.
"Gold, maybe," was the quick answer, and into the eyes of every man there came a sudden, new gleam.
"By golly!" cried Yellin' Kid in his loudest tones, "I'll bet you're right! There's a gold mine in that cave and those fellers want to keep it for themselves! Whoopee! Let's get them there gas masks and rustle the whole bunch over the border. Then we'll have the gold for ourselves! Come on!"
Such excitement followed the Kid's outburst that the very horses seemed imbued with it. The cowboys, keeping well out of the way of that floating, white cloud of gas—more or less poisonous, it was not to be doubted—had mounted their animals and were on their way, by a roundabout trail, to the ranch house.
"Gold!" muttered Snake. "Do you really think there's gold in that cave?"
"It would not be beyond the bounds of possibility," Dick replied. "I'm not a geologist, and I don't know anything about mining. But the west is the home of gold, and so is Mexico. We're not far from Mexico. What's to prevent a ledge or seam of gold from running up into these hills, or small mountains, and cropping out in that cave? What's to prevent?"
"Nothing!" came from Billee, a new light in his eyes.
"It would be very natural, I think," added Nort.
"That would account for what Bud saw—the men picking away at the stone sides of the cave," went on Dick. "And the roof and sides are of rock—that my brother and I saw."
"Then we're on the right track!" cried Snake joyfully. "I been tryin' to figger out what all this meant, but I see it now. The other poison attacks, where cattle and men died, didn't have nothin' to do with the gas we just now ran away from. Somebody else must have been the blame of that, or maybe it wasn't poison gas at all—might 'a' been just bad water or loco-weed. But this is different."
"Yes," agreed Nort, "this is different. We know, positively, that this gas attack was launched by men."
"Men who want to keep us out of that cave 'cause it's full of gold!" murmured Old Billee. "Boys, for once I see daylight ahead of me! I'm goin' to turn miner! I'm through nursin' cattle! I'm goin' to dig gold and retire rich! By golly, I am!"
"You better wait until we see the color of pay dirt!" chuckled Snake.
"And until we get those fellows out!" added another cowboy.
"Oh, we'll git them out soon as we have them gas masks!" declared Billee, who seldom had shown such enthusiasm. "By golly, at last I see daylight! I'll soon lay this on the shelf," and he patted his old lariat.
"I hope he isn't disappointed," murmured Dick to his brother.
"Do you really believe there's a chance of finding gold in that cave?"Nort asked in a low voice.
"I really do. Why else would those fellows want to keep us out? It can't be that it's a mere cattle-rustling game."
"No," admitted Nort, "I don't believe it's that. But—gold! Seems sort of far-fetched."
"Well, maybe I'm wrong," went on Dick. "But we'll soon find out, if those gas masks are any good."
On the way back to the circle of ranch buildings a close lookout was kept for any sign of intruders on the range of Dot and Dash. But no strangers were seen, nor did a casual survey of the various herds scattered over the plains disclose any casualties.
"I guess everything that happens takes place around Smugglers' Gulch," observed Dick.
"Seems so," admitted his brother.
No one had suffered any serious results from the gas attack. It had been discovered so quickly, and the retreat had been made so promptly, thanks to Snake's vigilance, that aside from a little irritation of their mouths and throats the attackers were not injured. The irritation soon passed away and was about gone when they neared the ranch.
"They were just teasing us that time," decided Snake. "The next time they'll shoot some real nasty gas at us."
"And that's the time we'll be ready with the masks," declared Nort.
Bud Merkel was as excited as either of his cousins when he heard the news. He declared no better plan could be devised than going against the unknown cave dwellers with gas masks and a telephone message was soon on the way, asking the commander of the Los Pompan branch of the American Legion for the loan of as many of the protectors as were needed.
In due time word came back that the Dot and Dash ranchers were quite welcome to the masks. Snake and Kid, as experts in their use, and as judges of the best ones to bring back, were sent as a committee into town to get the life-saving apparatus.
It was next day, when the gas masks had been tried on by the cowboys who were to use them, and plans were being talked over for a second attack, that Nort suggested:
"Maybe we ought to try these masks before we use them. They may be defective in spite of the fact that they look all right."
"Not a bad idea," agreed Bud. "But we haven't any poison gas to try 'em with."
"If we could go in a room filled with ammonia, or some such vapor as that, we could soon tell if the masks were any good," Dick suggested.
Dr. Taylor was communicated with and agreed to supply from his somewhat limited laboratory sufficient fumes to make a sure test of the masks. He came out to the ranch, a small room was set aside for the experiment and into this vile chamber the men went one at a time, each one wearing the mask that was designed to protect him in the coming fight.
With the exception of one or two of the affairs, each one was gas proof and the defective ones were quickly replaced with good ones. So that in a comparatively short time the avengers were once more ready to make the attack.
Much the same tactics were observed as on the former occasion. The horses were left well out of reach of any clouds of vapor that might float from the ravine, and the guards were instructed to deploy their reserve cavalry to east or west, according to the direction of the wind, in case gas was noted coming out of the defile.
"Well, I reckon we're all ready," observed Old Billee on a certain morning a few days after the first failure. "How about it, Bud?"
"All set," answered the ranch owner's son, for he had recovered from the gas he had inhaled and was quite fit again. "Let's go!" he cried.
The cavalcade moved forward, and when within about the same distance as before from the defile, the horses were led aside, the guard posted and the men again advanced up the gorge.
"Don't make any more noise than you can help," warned Bud, as one of the men rattled some of the loose stones.
"Oh, I think they know we're coming," said Dick.
"You do? How?"
"Well, naturally they have scouts posted. We'd do the same if we were in their position. They know we're coming, all right."
"Perhaps so," Bud admitted. "Well, everybody have his mask ready to slip on as soon as gas is smelled."
"What if they use a kind we can't smell until it's too late?" askedDick.
"Well, that's a chance we have to take," said Bud with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I think I shall smell it all right," Snake interjected. "I was pretty good at that sort of thing in the war. The officers said I had a mighty good nose—for smelling I mean," he made haste to add for fear his pals would accuse him of personal vanity. "In some of the trenches they used rats and canary birds to give warning of gas. But I was the official smeller for my bunch, and I got so I was pretty good at it if I do say it myself."
"Then we'll make you the advance guard," decided Bud, and so it was arranged.
Up the gulch they marched, with guns and gas masks ready, and once more, as on the former occasion, they were just within sight of the cave when Snake cried:
"Gas! Gas!"
At once each man donned his protector, and then, looking like prehistoric monsters the crowd, led by Bud, Nort, Dick and Old Billee rushed to the attack. The same white wisps of vapor floated down into the faces of the avengers, but there was no turning back now. There was no choking or gasping. The gas masks were a perfect protection.
Dick's surmise that the advancing party was being spied on seemed to be correct, since before they reached the cave shots came from the cavern, and there was the vicious whine and ping of bullets. One or two of the cowboys were hit, one seriously, and then the avengers began shooting on their own account.
Bud gave the signal for a rush attack and eagerly he and his comrades sprang forward. They passed a little trench near the mouth of the cave. In this shallow ditch were several iron cylinders from holes of which was pouring a white vapor. This was the gas, how deadly could only be surmised for the masks kept all fumes and effects of it from the attackers.
There was a current of air from the cave blowing down the defile and this carried the fumes away from the hidden men and into the ranks of the attackers. This direction of the wind explained why no gas masks were needed by the foe. The wind was their protection. And the fact that they wore no masks was soon demonstrated.
For as the attackers swept on and up to the cave they dislodged several of the first line fighters of their foes—rough, ugly-looking men who sprang up from amid the rocks and, after firing their last shots, turned and ran into the cavern. Not one wore a mask.
In a few minutes the attackers were safely back of the gas-emitting cylinders and could take off their masks for the wind carried the fumes away from them. Yanking his protector off, Bud shouted:
"Into the cave after them!"
The rush was made. A sight was had of a crowd of men retreating into the black depths of the cavern. The cowboys fired at them and were shot at in turn, Nort receiving a nasty scratch from a bullet along his shoulder, and his brother stopping a lead slug in the fleshy part of his thigh. Bud was nipped on the hand and several of the other cowboys were more or less painfully injured.
Some damage was inflicted on the foe, for there were yells of pain from several and one man was seen to fall. He was quickly picked up by his pals, however, and carried into the far end of the cave.
Then, when it grew dark as the daylight faded, a short distance beyond the entrance, Bud called a halt on further pursuit.
"No use going back there when we don't know what's beyond," he said. "We've driven 'em out, and we can have a look, now, and see what secret they have been guarding."
When Snake and Kid, again donning their masks, had shut off the flow of gas from the cylinders, a precaution taken against a possible change of wind, flashlights were produced and a close inspection of the cave was begun. It was evident that the men who had been in it, and who had relied on gas to keep intruders out, had made their escape through some rear exit, or they might still be hiding in the depths of the cavern.
Extra powerful portable electric torches had been brought by the exploring party and these were turned, now, on different parts of the rocky walls and roof of the cave. Bud showed where he had been held a prisoner, and it did not take long to find places where digging had been going on.
As the lights flashed over the rough, rocky walls, there were reflected back glistening yellow slivers of illumination.
"Look!" cried Dick, pointing. "There it is! Gold!"
"Gold! Gold!" came in joyful shouts from the exulting cowboys. "We've found a gold mine!"
And truly it seemed so.
Only those, probably very few of you, who have ever taken part in a gold rush can understand and appreciate the wild excitement that prevailed when the flashing lights revealed the rock of the cave to be seamed and studded with yellow veins and patches. It aroused even the most lethargic of the cowboys. And, truth to tell, none of them were very strongly of that type. They were accustomed to live amid excitement of one kind or another, and this was but a new sort.
"Gold! Gold!" was the exulting murmur on all sides.
"There's enough here to make us all rich!" cried Yellin' Kid, his loud voice echoing through the cavern.
"No more ridin' fence for me!" cried Snake.
"Me, I'm going to have one of them pianos that plays itself!" declared Billee, whose soul, hitherto, had been obliged to get its feast of music from a mouth organ.
"And look where them hombres have been takin' out our gold!" exclaimed Yellin' Kid as he flashed his light on a wall where, unmistakably, excavating had been going on. There were signs of new digging in the rock and dirt of the cave's sides and the ground beneath showed a litter of debris.
"You ought to make 'em pay for all they took out!" declared Snake toBud.
"Maybe it would be a good idea to catch 'em first," suggested Dick, quietly.
"Well, that's so. We'll do that after we have begun to dig out the gold," decided the cowboy. "Oh, boy! Look at the yaller stuff!" and he picked up what seemed to be a nugget of great value. It was of gleaming yellow and heavy in his hand.
The boy ranchers were no whit less excited than their older companions. But perhaps the finding of the gold mine, in which, knowing Mr. Merkel's generosity, the cowboys believed they all would share, meant more to the older men than it did to the boys. The latter were, in a sense, owners of the ranch and were not doomed to days and nights of hard work on the range. There was a brighter future before them, because of their advantageous position, than there was ahead of Billee and the others. Up to now the old cowboys had seen nothing but a hard life (though there were enjoyable spots here and there) and they counted on dying with their boots on, not from violence, perhaps, so much as from wearing out at their labors. Now they saw a chance of getting rich quickly, or, if not exactly rich, at least of gaining a competence.
No wonder they were excited.
"Boy howdy! I can't hardly believe it!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "First time I was ever on a ranch that developed gold!"
"It's the first for me, too," said Bud.
"What's the best thing to do?" asked Nort, of no one in particular.
"Hadn't the boss better file a claim of discovery?" suggested a cowboy who said he had once lived in California.
"He don't need to file nothin'!" declared Billee. "This gold is found on Mr. Merkel's land. Everything on the land is hissen. He can work the gold mine same as he can his cattle ranges."
That seemed to be the consensus of opinion and it was decided that all remaining to be done was to inform Bud's father of the discovery, start to work the claim and take the profit.
"And clean out them rascals!" added Billee.
"Oh, sure!" agreed Bud. "It's queer, though," he went on as he flashed his light about the cave, "that if gold has been here since the beginning, as it must have, that the secret of it only just now got out. And if the gang that's been working this mine has been shooting out poison gas to keep people away from here, why didn't some rumor of this gold strike filter out before?"
"There's something wrong," declared Billee. "I don't believe the deaths that took place in this here valley, from the time I knowed about 'em, had anything to do with this gold cave. I'm sure they didn't. And, what's more, this claim has only been worked recent like. You can tell that by the fresh marks of the digging."
This was plain to all, and the more they thought of it the more of a puzzle it was. Clearly poison gas, if such it was, had only recently been used to guard the approach to the cave. What, then, was the explanation of the former mysterious deaths?
But the boys and their friends were so excited over the discovery of the yellow metal that they gave little heed to this phase of the matter. All the talk had to do with getting out the ore and finding how much it assayed to the ton.
"But we can't let the cattle business slide; can we?" asked Dick, as he and most of the others prepared to depart. A guard was to be left in the cave, and sufficient food and supplies would be sent them to enable them to remain on constant duty.
"Oh, no, we won't give up the cattle business," decided Bud. "We'll work that and the mine, too."
Mr. Merkel was duly astonished when, that night, his son succeeded in getting in touch with him over the long-distance telephone from Los Pompan. Bud found a booth to talk from which insured his conversation not being broadcast in the town. If news of the gold strike got out it might mean a rush. Not that any land around the gulch or cave could be preëmpted by others, for it was all on Mr. Merkel's ranch. But not everybody would respect his property rights and there might be trouble.
"Are you sure it's gold, son?" asked the ranchman over the wire.
"Why of course it is, Dad. What else could it be?"
"I don't know. But I'm going to make sure before I start a torch-light procession. I'll send you out a good mining man. Don't do anything until he arrives, and keep your shirts on—all of you."
"All right, Dad. I know what you mean. We won't broadcast it."
"Better not. There might be a slip-up, you know."
"I don't see how there can be, but we'll keep it mum."
Busy days followed at Dot and Dash. While the cattle business was not passed up, Bud and his cousins devoted all their time to the discovery in the cave, and let the new cowboys attend to the shipping and care of the cattle. Some of the yellow ore was dug out and taken to the ranch house to await the arrival of the mining expert. Meanwhile it was carefully guarded.
Covering several days a careful exploration of the cave had been made without discovering any of the enemy. There were several exits from the cavern, and it was surmised that the "gas gang," as they were dubbed, had escaped by one of these.
"But as long as they're gone, we haven't anything to worry about," saidBud. "We're sitting pretty now."
"Nothing to worry about," added Nort.
"And I guess we won't find any more dead cattle," said Dick. "It must have been some of the gas they were experimenting with that killed the cows and Sam's horse."
"Sure!" assented Bud.
Thus were the boys lulled into a false security, and their fond dreams were not shattered for several days. It was on the afternoon of the day before the mine expert was to arrive that Bud, Nort and Dick, riding toward the cave to find out how matters were progressing there, saw, on a hillside some distance away from the glen, a number of motionless lumps.
"Looks like some of the steers from the main herd had strayed and were taking a siesta," suggested Nort.
"Yes," admitted Bud, slowly. "But I wonder——"
Suddenly he put spurs to his pony and dashed toward the dark objects. His cousins followed and as they got near enough they saw that the cows, far from taking a siesta, were in their last sleep.
"They're dead!" exclaimed Bud. "Dead same as the others were—from gas, or something. Boys, that gang is back again!"
"Then it's all up with the men on guard at the mine!" cried Nort.
There was no use wasting any time or sympathy over the dead cattle. They were dead beyond a doubt, a fact which was easily proved. And yet, as before, there was not a sign of anything that showed how they had met their death. The bodies lay in a natural position, as though the animals had been overcome when grazing and had sunk gently down. Or as if they had succumbed to some gentle poison that brought a painless death.
"Well, if this isn't the limit!" cried Bud while his cousins looked at him and at each other with wonder on their faces.
"Of all the rotten things to do!" snapped out Nort. "To kill these poor cattle! Why doesn't that gang fight like men if they want to give battle—not spray their dirty poison gas around dumb beasts?"
"It is pretty rotten," agreed Dick.
Bud was carefully scanning the ground in the vicinity of the dead cattle, at the same time cautiously sniffing the air to detect any possible taint. But he seemed to discover nothing. Dick and Nort followed his example, but were unable to come upon any clew.
However, not far from where the half dozen valuable animals had dropped dead there was a little crack or rift in the earth. It was a sort of opening between two long ridges of rocks, there being an outcropping of stone at this point. It was part of the two ridges which, suddenly rising higher, formed the walls of Smugglers' Glen farther to the south. Dick was the first to notice it.
"See anything there?" asked Bud, noting that his cousin was bending over the cleft in the surface.
"No, I can't see anything and I can't smell anything," he added, as he bent closer.
"But I can hear something!" added Nort.
"Hear something?" questioned Bud.
"Yes, the sound of running water down there. Listen!"
He bent with his ear over the crack in the rocks. And in the silence, broken only by the slight movements of their ponies, from which they had dismounted, the boys heard the murmur as of water flowing along far under ground.
"I'm afraid that doesn't mean anything," said Bud when he had signified that he, too, heard the ripple. "Dad said there were a lot of underground streams around here. This one must come from the little brook that flows through Smugglers' Glen. It takes a dip down under the rocks and comes to the surface again farther on."
"I guess you're right," admitted Dick. "It doesn't mean anything. ButI didn't know there was underground water in this section."
"Oh, yes, plenty of it," Bud added. "I've seen other places with rock fissures like this where you could hear water bubbling along beneath the surface."
"Then this goes into the discard," spoke Nort, meaning that it was useless to form any theory about the mysterious deaths if it was to be based on the underground streams.
"But we'd better get on to the cave mine!" cried Bud. "If those fellows are at their poison gas game again, it's likely that Sam Tarbell and the fellows we left on guard are in as bad shape as these cows. Darn the luck, anyhow!"
"That's what I say!" chimed in Nort as the three hastened to where they had left their ponies. "Just as we thought we were sitting pretty, with nothing to worry about, along comes this! Wonder how they worked the game, anyhow?"
"They must have got back in the cave—probably from the end where they ran out the time we chased 'em with our gas masks on," said Dick. "They sneaked up on our fellows, let loose a cloud of gas, put them out of business and then came down here to kill the cows."
"But that's what I can't understand," said Bud. "Why should they go to the trouble of killing cows? Cows can't spy on those gold mine jumpers. Cows can't get out any gold. It's all so useless, this killing of our beasts."
"I guess they're just natural devils as Billee claims," suggested Nort."But we'll pay 'em back!"
"You bet we will!" exclaimed Bud. "And now to the rescue! We've got to save Sam and his crowd if we can!"
They galloped their ponies in the direction of the Glen, and reached the opening to the sinister defile in record time. Nor did they stop to dismount. Rough as was the way, they rode their mounts up the valley until they came within sight of the cave. Nor were they stopped, and they detected no gas, though they were on the alert for it.
"Maybe it's a false alarm," suggested Nort. "Maybe our fellows didn't suffer from a gas attack after all."
"Well, the cows certainly did!" exclaimed his brother.
However their worst fears were realized when, as they flung themselves off their horses at the mouth of the cave they saw, just within, the prostrate forms of Sam Tarbell and his companion guards. Stark and silent the men lay there.
"We're too late!" muttered Bud sorrowfully.
"They're all dead!" echoed Nort.
"This is Death Valley sure enough!" came gloomily from Dick.
There was a movement within the cave. There sounded the rattling echoes of dislodged stones.
"Some one's coming!" murmured Bud, drawing his gun.
A moment later there emerged from the cavern the form of Old Tosh. He did not appear surprised to see the boys, nor to note the prostrate forms of the men. In one hand he held a bottle of his Elixer and waving it over his head he cried:
"I'm just in time! Come on, boys, help me! We'll save 'em yet!"
Any suspicions which the boy ranchers held against the old man vanished quickly as they saw the eagerness with which he went to work to save, if possible, the men on guard at the cave gold mine. Bud and his cousins had, naturally, held back a little against approaching the stark, prostrate forms too closely. They were still young enough to be, at a time like this, unduly impressed by death.
But Old Tosh, as he was generally called, went at the business as if he were a doctor intent on saving lives in desperate danger. He opened a bottle of his Elixer, and, though the boys thought it pitifully weak stuff for the occasion, he appeared to have unbounded faith in it. Raising the head of Sam Tarbell, the old man placed the bottle to the silent lips, tipped it up and managed to force a little into the cow puncher's mouth.
"Come on, you boys!" Tosh called to Nort, Dick and Bud. "You got to help. I can't do this all alone. I'm just in time. I knew this would happen. They're on the verge of death but I'll save them."
"I'm afraid you're too late," said Bud.
"No, I'm not. These men are alive yet. All they need is a little stimulant to bring 'em around. They didn't get much of a dose of the poison gas. If they had, not even my Elixer could save 'em. But it can now. Come on, there's another bottle in my coat pocket. Reach it out and get busy, boys!"
Bud made a jump to do as directed. And as he was taking the second bottle from the old man's coat, while Tosh was still administering the medicine to Sam, Bud could not help wondering whether the queer hermit had anything to do with loosing the flood of gas against the mine guards. It was no time, now, however, to make such an inquiry.
Bud and his cousins gave Ned Frosh and Bill Dungan each some of the Elixer, raising the men's heads and forcing the liquid between their lips as they had seen Tosh do. As for the hermit, he went from Sam to a puncher who rejoiced in the name of Slippery Mike, giving him a good dose.
And then, strange as it may see, each of the four guards revived, opened his eyes and sat up. They had dazed looks on their faces, but were unharmed.
"What happened?" asked Bud of Sam, who was the leader in charge of the force guarding the gold mine. "Did those fellows come back and shoot gas at you?"
"I don't rightly know what did happen," Sam answered. "If those fellows came back we didn't see 'em. But there was sure some gas, for it hit us all of a sudden and keeled us over before we knew it. How did you get here, and what's he doing here?" Sam pointed at the old man.
"He got here soon after we did," Nort explained. "And I guess it's lucky he did. That stuff he gave you brought you fellows back to life."
"It's strong enough to make a mud turtle race with a jack rabbit!" chuckled Slippery Mike. "But it isn't bad, at that. If I could have another swig of it——"
Old Tosh hospitably held out the bottle.
"'Twon't hurt you," he said. "It's Life's Elixer."
"But how'd you know we was knocked out?" asked Sam when each of the guards had taken some more of the medicine. "It only happened a little while ago."
"And we only came a little while ago," said Dick. "We were out on the range and we saw some dead cattle. Right away we jumped to the conclusion that you had been poisoned with gas same as the steers. So we came here and found you stretched out. Then along came Mr. Tosh and he did the right thing, it seems."
"Did you know this had happened?" asked Bud of the old man.
"What, that these men had been gassed? No, I wasn't aware of it," answered the hermit. "I came back here to see if those men had gone away from my cave—the cave where they drove me out. I wanted to use it again, for there's no better place for brewing my Elixer. I went in the cave from the other end, and when I got here I saw you men stretched out. I knew what had happened, right away."
"But did you see any of those rustlers, holdup men, or whatever they are, with their gas cylinders?" asked Bud.
"No, I didn't," was the reply. "I don't know anything about gas cylinders. The poison gas doesn't come in cylinders. It comes out——"
"Oh, yes, it does come in cylinders, and it comes out of them," interrupted Bud. "We have some of the cylinders that we captured when we drove the men out of the gold mine."
"Gold mine?" excitedly cried the old man. "Where's a gold mine?"
"In that cave," and Bud pointed to it. "The cave where we saw you brewing your pot of herbs. Didn't you know there was gold there?"
Old Tosh shook his head.
"I don't take much stock in gold," he said. "But I liked that cave because it was so sheltered. Only, sometimes, I couldn't stay in it on account of the gas."
"That's the gas we mean," explained Nort. "The poison gas these men sprayed out of cylinders to keep us away so we wouldn't find there was gold in the cave. But we got gas masks and drove 'em out."
Again Old Tosh shook his head.
"I don't know anything about gas in cylinders," he said. "But then I been away a long time, in another county, getting different kinds of herbs. My Elixer is better than ever now and stronger."
"I'll say it's strong!" declared Slippery Mike.
"So I came back to see if I could use my cave," went on Old Tosh. "Now about this gas——"
But he was not allowed to go on, for Bud, seeing the effect of theElixer on Sam and his companions had a new thought.
"Will that save the dead steers—I mean the steers that seem to be dead?" he asked the hermit. "There's half a dozen of 'em out on the hill, and——"
"No," replied Tosh, "this stuff won't bring the dead back to life. It will only revive where a spark of life remains. And, in any case, it isn't effective on animals. It is only for humans."
"Then our steers are dead," sighed Dick.
"Guess that's a foregone conclusion," agreed Nort. "But what do you think of him, anyhow?" he asked Bud in a whisper, indicating Tosh.
"You mean do I have any suspicions against him?"
"Yes. Do you think he may have gotten hold of a cylinder of the poison gas and sprayed it on these men so as to get a chance to use his Elixer to revive them?"
Before Bud could answer there was a noise as of men and horses coming up the defile, and, thinking it was some of the former gang returning, guns were whipped out. But they were not needed. Two mild-mannered and inoffensive appearing men rode into sight. They had the look of college professors. Behind them rode Billee Dobb.
"Hello, boys!" greeted Billee, all unaware of the recent sensational happenings. "Here's the mine experts your dad sent out to look over our gold prospects, Bud. They're going to test the quality of the ore, and see how much it assays to the ton. That's the right way to express it; ain't it?" He turned to the older of the two men.
"That is perfectly correct, Mr. Dobb. And if you will show us the mine we can soon tell you, approximately, how valuable it is."
"It's in that cave. You'll find lots of gold there. And the first lot that comes to me is goin' to be spent for a self-playin' piano. But what happened here?" Billee asked, for he was now aware that something unusual had taken place.
"The darn scoundrels!" he exclaimed when he had been told of the death of the cattle and the plight of the men. "So they come back; did they? Well, we'll soon have a big force here takin' out gold and we'll keep better guard."
Meanwhile the mining experts went into the cavern to test the gold mine.