He had been off the trail for about half an hour and had been climbing nearly all that time when he heard a shout. He thought it was off to his right and paused undecided whether or not it would be advisable to answer it. It probably was one of the boys hunting him but, then again, it might be one of the Hains' gang and he hesitated to take the chance. For several moments he listened, but the shout was not repeated and he started on again. In another half hour he had reached the top of the ridge but whether he was above or below the main trail he was unable to determine as, at that point, the top was heavily wooded. So, after a moment's thought, he decided that he had better go straight down trusting that he would strike open ground and be able to get his bearings. It was now ten o'clock and he thought he ought to reach the foot of the mountain by noon.
"I suppose they're wondering what has become of me," he thought as he started off again. "If I only had something to eat it wouldn't be so bad, and it wouldn't make much difference what it was just so it was grub."
He had hardly started when he heard another shout and this time it was much closer but he did not dare venture to answer it. As before the call was not repeated but, as he stood listening, he heard the sound of something making its way through the underbrush and it was coming directly toward him. Was it a beast or a man, and if the latter, was he friend or foe? The boy glanced hastily about to find a place of concealment where he could see without being seen. But, as bad luck would have it, there seemed no such place at hand and the best he could do was to hide behind the trunk of a big tree. The man, for by this time he knew by the sound that it was a man, was close at hand and he could hear him breathing heavily as he stopped not ten feet from the tree. If only he dared peep out. But he knew that would be to risk discovery, so he waited hoping that the man would speak and that from the sound of his voice, he would be able to tell who he was. He did not have long to wait for, almost immediately he heard him mutter:
"I dunno what in thunder Red wanted ter send me off on a wild goose chase like this fer."
"It's one of the gang," Bob thought and he feared that the man would hear his heart beating it sounded so loud to him.
"I'm jest agoin' ter take a rest here," he heard him say and was aware that he had thrown himself on the ground.
"I hope he doesn't rest long," Bob thought as he carefully shifted his weight onto the other leg.
But, although he moved with the most extreme caution, he was unable to avoid a slight rustling of leaves which evidently caught the man's ear, for he heard him start up and, a moment later he could hear him getting to his feet. Then he came directly toward the tree.
Knowing that further concealment was out of the question, the boy determined to put on as bold a front as possible and stepped out to face him, holding his revolver in his hand.
"Well, if it ain't the kid," the man said as he saw the boy. "Thought thar was sumpin' behind that tree."
"You thought right," Bob assured him. Then, putting as much indifference as possible into his voice, he asked: "Were you looking for me?"
"Laws, no," the man replied. "What made yer think that?"
"I just thought it possible," Bob replied easily.
"Well, put up yer gun, sonny. Thar's no need o' guns atween friends. I ain't a goin' ter hurt yer any."
Bob had recognized the man as one of those who had advised giving him a necktie party the night before and was not at all deceived by his friendly attitude. But he was a small man, not much over a hundred and twenty pounds, and he felt sure that if it should come to a fight he could hold up his end. So he slipped the revolver back in his pocket.
"Where were you going?" he asked indifferently.
"No where in particular," the man answered. "Whar you hittin' it fer?"
"I'm going back to the ranch."
"Oh."
For the moment Bob was looking the other way and, when he turned, he was gazing straight into the barrel of an ugly looking automatic.
"What's the big idea?" he asked quietly.
"Yer're easy you are," the man grinned.
"So it would seem. May I ask what you are going to do with me?"
"Yer'll find out soon 'nough."
"Good. I hate to be held in suspense."
"Yer may be suspended sooner yer think fer," the man grinned. "But if yer try any funny business it won't be necessary."
"But why should it be necessary in any event?"
"That's our business. Now turn 'bout face an' start up the hill and mind yer step."
Bob knew that the time to start anything was not yet so he did as he was ordered without hesitation, but his brain was busy. He did not intend to be led back, or driven for that matter, to the Hains gang. He was only too well aware of the reception that awaited him, for he did not doubt for a minute but that the man had been hunting for him, and, as he trudged along, he was busy thinking how he get hold of his captor without getting shot. That the man would shoot him if he felt that his safety was in danger, he had not the slightest doubt. Then again, he knew that the quicker he acted the better chance of success he would stand because there was no telling how soon they might meet some other member of the gang.
Determined to act as soon as the slightest chance of success offered he watched his opportunity and it soon came. A large tree trunk lay directly in front of him and, instead of going around it, he climbed over it taking all the time he dared so that when he jumped down on the other side his captor was just pulling himself up on to it. He hesitated as though uncertain which way to go until he knew that the man was standing up on the trunk ready to jump down. Then like a flash he turned and, catching hold of the man's ankles, gave a strong pull. The move was so sudden and unexpected that the man's feet were yanked from beneath him before he had time to realize what had happened, his gun going off as he fell.
Before he had time to recover himself Bob was on top of him and they were thrashing about each trying to get a firm hold on the other. Bob almost at once got a hold on the hand which held the gun and with a sudden twist sent it flying. Although the man was undersized he was wiry and the boy was amazed at his strength but, to his great satisfaction, he soon discovered that he knew nothing regarding the science of wrestling. All he had was brute strength while Bob was an adept. So, once the gun was out of the way he felt fairly confident. But the man was fighting like a wild cat and Bob had all he could manage for some moments to keep his hands away from his throat.
He hoped that his exertions would soon wind him but, as the struggle continued, there was no abatement of his fury and Bob decided that he had better take the offensive without waiting longer. He was underneath at the moment and with a sudden twist of his body he succeeded in throwing him off and, an instant later, he had a half Nelson about his neck. Back he bent the arm until it seemed that the bone must snap, but the man continued to struggle.
"It'll snap pretty soon," Bob told him. "Better give up."
"All right, you win," the man gasped his face distorted with pain.
Bob immediately released his hold and sprang to his feet. For a moment the other lay on the ground rubbing his arm then he too got slowly up.
Bob was pretty certain that he had no other gun as he had taken the opportunity of feeling for it while they were on the ground, but he watched him closely ready to spring for him if he made a movement toward his pocket.
"What you call it, that hold?" he panted.
"That was a half Nelson."
"Half Nelson, eh. Well all I got ter say is that I'd sure hate ter run up against a whole one."
"It's pretty good when you know how to handle it."
The man had taken a step forward and, as Bob spoke, he suddenly aimed a blow at his head. Although Bob was on the watch for some such move, the quickness of it deceived him and the fist landed squarely on the point of his chin, and he went down. With an exultant cry the man sprang forward, but before he could reach him again the boy was on his feet. The blow, although a heavy one, had not landed with its full force as Bob had drawn his head back in time and he had fallen more because of catching his heel on a root than from the blow itself. The man hesitated as though surprised at the quickness with which Bob had got to his feet.
"So that's the way you play the game," Bob said.
"What you mean play the game?"
"Why, up where I come from when a man cries quits he's done, that's all."
"But I'm not done yer'll find out in 'bout a minute," he snarled as he sprang forward.
Bob dodged the blow without any great effort and, as he lurched by from the force with which he had struck, he got in a clip behind the ear which almost but not quite knocked him over. The man recovered himself and returned to the attack with a snarl of rage. But Bob was ready for him and as he rushed he caught him fairly on the point of the chin. It was a heavy blow and the man went down but he was not knocked out and was on his feet almost immediately. Evidently he realized by this time that he was no match for the boy with his fists for this time he rushed at him head down in an effort to catch him about the knees. It was exactly what Bob had been hoping for and he set himself to meet it, and the next instant a very surprised outlaw was flying through the air over his head to fall with a thud all the fight and most of the wind knocked out of him. It was a trick Bob had learned from the Jap teacher of wrestling at the college and it now stood him in good stead.
The outlaw writhed on the ground gasping for breath as Bob stepped up and stood over him.
"That's another good one," he told him, but he had not yet recovered his breath sufficiently to be able to speak.
Seeing that he was "hors de combat" for the present at least, Bob stepped a few feet away and began looking for the outlaw's gun. He knew the direction in which it had been cast, but it was some moments before he located it. When he returned the man was sitting up with his back against a tree but he was still having a hard time breathing.
"Getting your wind back?"
The man simply scowled in reply as Bob held the gun so that he could see that he had it.
"No use in being ugly about it," he told him. "I'm the one who ought to be mad. You had two chances and you can bet your sweet life I'm not going to give you a third."
Bob was intending to leave at once being confident that the man would not dare to follow him now that he knew that he was armed, but something in his face made him hesitate. For the first time he realized that the outlaw was very young. In fact, as he sat there he did not look much over twenty and a wave of pity swept over the boy.
"How old are you?" he asked kindly.
"I'll be twenty-one next month."
"And what's your name?"
"What you want to know that for?"
Bob was impressed by the fact that the outlaw was now using better English than he had been and was becoming more and more convinced that he had seen better days.
"No reason in particular," he told him.
"Well, it's Fred Royce if it'll do you any good to know.
"Then you're an American?"
"Sure thing, but I guess I'm not much of a credit to the nation."
"Do you like the life you're leading?"
For an instant the man did not reply and Bob could see that a struggle was taking place in his mind.
"Like it? Of course I don't."
"Then why not get out of it?"
"That's easier said than done," the outlaw said sadly.
"Would you mind telling me how you happened to get into it?"
Again he hesitated and Bob was surprised to see that tears were in his eyes. Finally he spoke.
"I suppose it's a common enough story. I lived in Boston and my father is rich. I had plenty of money but I got in with a fast set, got to gambling and, of course, lost. I didn't dare to ask father for the money so I forged his name to a check. It was only for a couple hundred dollars, but I realize now that it was just as bad as if it had been a million. Then a fellow in our crowd found it out and threatened to go to father and tell him about it unless I paid him ten thousand dollars. The only way I could get the money was to forge another check, but I didn't do it. I skipped and beat my way out here. That was a little over a month ago and I've had a pretty rough time of it. You see I never had to work and so don't know how to do anything. I tried a number of jobs but every time I got fired and I don't blame them for that because I know I made a mess of it. Then three days ago I fell in with this man, Hains. I was about starved at the time and he staked me to a good meal, the first one I've had for most a week. Well I was pretty desperate and when he asked me to join his gang I, like a weak fool, consented."
"Then you've only been with him a couple of days?"
"That's all, and I haven't had anything to do with stealing cattle, not yet. He said I have to wait awhile and learn the ropes before I'd be any good. Honestly I'm sorry I tried to double cross you, but you see Hains sent me out to see if I could find out what had become of you and I thought if I could bring you in it'd be a big feather in my cap. But now I'm glad I got licked."
"So am I for your sake as well as my own."
There was silence for a moment and then the outlaw said:
"If I only dared to chuck it."
"Well, why don't you?" Bob asked kindly.
"You don't know that gang or you wouldn't ask. My life wouldn't be worth a plugged cent if I went back on them."
"But suppose I loaned you the money to go back home?"
"I couldn't go back, not yet. If I could make good first then I might have the courage to go back and face father but, as it is now, well, I just couldn't, that's all, but I'm mighty thankful for the offer just the same."
"See here, man, don't you realize that the farther you go with this sort of thing the harder it's going to be to break away. You ought to know that this kind has only one end. They'll get you sooner or later. Be a man and make the break now before the law has anything on you."
Bob spoke sternly and he could see that his words were having an effect on the man.
"Even if they should catch you it would be no worse than what, this sort of thing will lead to," he added in an effort to clinch the argument.
"I'll do it," he said after a moment's hesitation.
"Yes, yer will, not."
At the words a large, red-haired man stepped out from behind a tree.
Bob knew at once that it was Red Hains and his hand moved toward his pocket.
"Keep yer hand away from that pocket if yer want to live any longer," Hains snapped.
Bob knew that, although the man had nothing in his hands, he was reputed to be a streak of lightning when it came to getting a gun out, so he prudently did as he was ordered.
"That's better, an' see that yer keep 'em away." Then turning to the other he snapped: "Wall, yer poor snivling apology of a half-baked man, what yer got ter say fer yerself?"
"Nothing," Royce replied sullenly.
"Nothin', eh. Do yer know I've half a mind ter put a hunk o' lead in yer, right now?"
"Go ahead, if it'll do you any good," Royce retorted.
"Yer think I'm bluffing, eh. Then take this."
As he spoke the man's hand moved with the quickness of a flash toward his belt, but before the gun was out a deep voice boomed out:
"Hands up, Red. I gotta bead on yer an' I'll drill yer if yer move."
At the first word Hains' hand had stopped and before the command was finished they were elevated above his head. Then Slats Magee stepped into view.
"Real nice social little party we got here," he said keeping his gun trained on Hains. "An' will yer look at who's here?" he added motioning with his head to Hains.
"Gee, but I'm glad to see you, Slats," Bob cried.
"An' I'm glad ter get ter the party on time," Slats grinned.
At that instant the sound of a shot far off in the forest made them turn their heads and when they turned them back Red Hains was gone.
"What the——" Slats began and then stopped short. "Now, what do yer know about that?" he finished sheepishly. "Whar did that skunk get to?"
"How could a man disappear as quickly as that?" Bob gasped.
"Well, I reckon mebbe it's good riddance ter bad rubbish, as the sayin' is. We'd a had a sweet time gettin' of him in. But who's this feller?"
"In a few words Bob told him Royce's story and the sympathies of the man were at once engaged.
"Sure, we'll look out for him. Don't yer fret, young feller. If yer want ter go straight, you're goin' ter get a chance an' don't yer fergit it. But I plumb fergot sumpin'." And he pulled out his gun and fired three shots in rapid succession into the air.
"The boys been out huntin' fer yer all night and that's the signal if yer was found," he explained.
"It's too bad," Bob told him. "I ought to have known better than to have attempted it. But how far am I from the trail?"
"'Bout five miles, mebbe a little more."
"So far as that?"
"Yep, and I reckon we'd better be makin' tracks. My horse is 'bout two miles back. Couldn't get him any further."
They started at once, Slats leading and the others following close at his heels.
"How did you know where to find me?" Bob asked after they had covered perhaps a mile.
"Didn't know. Jest went it blind."
"Well, I never was more glad to see anyone."
"Reckon not."
Soon they reached the place where Slats had left his horse and he insisted on Bob riding. But he refused as did Royce and the argument ended with them all going on foot, Slats leading the animal. It was about ten o'clock when they struck the trail not far from where Bob had left his horse.
"You wait here till I get Satan," Bob said as he turned down the trail.
But when he reached the place, a few minutes later, there was no horse to welcome him.
"He's either broken away or someone has stolen him," he thought as he examined the place where he had tied him.
The ground was considerably tramped up and the tree, to which he had been tied had been gnawed, but there was nothing to indicate which of his guesses was correct.
When he got back to where he had left the others he found that Sue, Jack and three of the boys had joined them.
"Didn't I tell you that you'd get caught?" Sue demanded as soon as he came in sight.
"Indeed, you did, and if I hadn't been a fool I'd have followed your advice. But never again," and he held up his hand as if taking an oath.
Royce's presence had been already explained and, after again firing the signal, they started for the ranch, two of the horses carrying double.
"I wouldn't care so much if I had accomplished anything," Bob confided to Jack behind whom he was riding.
"I should say you had accomplished a whole lot," Jack retorted.
"What do you mean? We know no more now than before."
"But how about Royce?"
"If he goes straight from now on I'll say that you did more than if you had caught the whole gang."
"Maybe you are right."
"I know I am."
They reached the ranch in time for dinner and found that Jeb and one of the others had returned having heard the first signal and, at the time, having been nearer home.
"I'll bet I could eat a raw moccasin," Bob declared a few minutes later as they sat down at the table.
They had just started to eat when one of the men came in and announced that Satan had just come in by himself.
By the time they had finished the meal all the boys were back and Bob had to repeat his story several times. All were greatly interested in young Royce and he was almost overcome by the kindness shown him declaring over and over again that he did not deserve it. Jeb added his advice to that which Bob had given him, that he take money and go back home. But he said that he would do anything else that they wished but that he could not do.
"You don't know my father," he told them. "Oh, he's a good father and all that but he is absolutely merciless when it comes to a thing like this. He'd have me arrested and put me in jail in a minute if I went back to him like this. I know I deserve it and if it wasn't for mother I'd be willing to face him and take what was coming, but it would kill her."
Tears had been gathering in the man's eyes while he was talking and by the time he had finished he was sobbing in good earnest.
"There, there, son, we all make mistakes and you shall have a chance right here to make good," Jeb assured him, laying a kindly hand on his shoulder.
"You're better to me than I deserve, sir," he sobbed, "but if you'll only give me a chance I'll try so hard."
"Then it's settled. You are on the payroll of the Lazy S."
"But you must not pay me anything, at least until I'm worth it."
"Well, we won't fight over that," Jeb told him kindly.
"It is something that I'll never forget and I'll make good."
"Of course, you will."
It developed that Royce knew nothing more about Red Hains and his gang than he had already told them. He had never been to their rendezvous and had no idea where it was.
"I don't think Hains trusted me fully," he told them, "and he, as well as the others, were careful not to talk about their business when I was around. Guess I was kind of on probation."
"But did you never hear him say anything about this ranch?" Jeb asked him.
"No, sir, I——. Yes, I did, too. It was last night, just before we camped. I was tending to the horses and he and one of the men were talking only a few feet away and I heard him say that the Lazy S had the best bunch of cattle in the country but that they were pretty well guarded and it would be pretty risky to try to run any of them off."
"Then you don't know whether he intends to try it or not?"
"No, sir, that was all I heard him say. They moved away then and I didn't hear anything more."
"Well, you'd better stick pretty close to the ranch for a while. I fancy it would go pretty hard with you if he should get hold of you again."
"He'd kill me."
"Probably he would."
The herd of the Lazy S was grazing on what was called the lower range, about two miles from the house. Jeb called all the boys for a consultation before supper and arranged that they should guard them in two shifts, each being on duty from six to six.
"There's little doubt in my mind but what he'll have a try at 'em sooner or later," Jeb told them. "He may get away with it, but we'll make it as hard for him as we can, eh."
"Sure, an' we'll do that," Grumpy declared, and all the others were just as enthusiastic.
"The finest and most loyal bunch of men I ever had," Jeb told the boys as the men left the porch.
"Which shift do we go with?" Bob asked.
"Why, you——"
"Sure, we're going to help. We wouldn't miss it for the world," Jack broke in. Jeb insisted that he was responsible for them and that there was too much risk attached to it, but they finally won a reluctant consent to join the day shift.
It was sometime in the night when Bob suddenly awoke. He was aware that he had heard something, but what it was he did not know, but a moment later; he heard it again and this time he knew that it was a shot and it came from the south. Almost at the same time he heard someone moving in the kitchen out of which their room opened. He gave Jack a sharp nudge.
"Wake up, there," he whispered in his ear.
"What's the idea," Jack grunted sleepily.
"Something's doing. Come, snap out of it," he ordered, slipping from the bed and dragging Jack after him.
"Have a heart," Jack groaned as he bumped his head on the floor.
"Sorry, but we've got to make it snappy."
As they pulled on their clothes they could hear Jeb's voice out on the porch shouting to the men.
"Think it's a raid?" Jack asked.
"What do you suppose it is?" Bob retorted. "Think they're indulging in target practice?"
"Not exactly, but——"
"Stop talking and get a hustle on," Bob ordered as he pulled open the door and stepped out of the room.
There was no one in the kitchen and he rushed out on to the porch where he bumped into Jeb who was about to come in.
"Is it Hains?" he asked.
"No doubt of it, I guess, but you boys keep out of it."
"But we want to go."
"Too risky."
"But we'll be careful and——"
But Jeb did not wait to hear any more for at that moment the men came up with the horses and he rushed into the house to come out again almost immediately buckling his gun-belt about his waist, Jack was close behind him, buttoning up his shirt on the way.
Bob made one more effort
"Please let us go," he pleaded, catching hold of Jeb's arm.
"Who's that can't go?"
The one who asked the question was Sue and she was dressed in her riding suit and her small automatic was strapped about her slim waist.
"Nothing doing, this time, Sue," Jeb put all the command possible into the order.
"But——"
"No buts about it. This is no business for a girl."
"But——"
"Oh, well, I can't stop to argue any more. Come along, if you must, but you must stay well behind. Make it snappy, now, every minute counts."
The two boys took it for granted that the permission included them and followed Sue's flying feet to the corral. They were mounted and back with the others almost in no time.
"You keep well in the rear," Jeb cried as he gave the order to start, and he swept out of the gate closely followed by the rest.
In all, not more than ten minutes has passed since Bob heard the first shot and during that time several more shots had been heard. The night was dark, the new moon having set several hours before, and they could barely see each other as they rode. The shots were coming more frequently now and the pace set by Jeb was a fast one. But Bob was obliged to hold Satan in in order to keep behind the men, as he seemed imbued with the excitement.
"Fire into the air, boys, an' let 'em know we're coming," Jeb shouted a few minutes after they had started and the next moment the air was rent with shots as the order was obeyed.
On through the night they swept the hoofs of the horses hardly seeming to touch the ground so swiftly were they running. A few minutes and they could hear the bellowing of the cattle as they milled this way and that not frightened enough to stampede but very restless.
In another minute Jeb called a halt and ordered the men to stay where they were while he went on to find out the condition of things.
"If I fire two shots close together and then two more after about ten seconds you come a-running, all except you, Sue, and the boys. You three stay where you are and if I shoot twice more quick-like, you beat it for the house. You can tell my gun from the rest."
As he spoke he melted into the darkness and they waited. Minute after minute passed and they were all getting impatient when the signal came.
"Come on, boys, whoop her up," one of the men shouted, and the three were alone.
"Gee, but I wish he hadn't told us not to go any farther," Jack declared.
"Same here, but I reckon he knows best," Bob said, stroking Satan's neck in an effort to quiet him.
"I can usually wheedle father into most anything, but when he speaks like that I know better than to disobey. I tried it just once and that was a-plenty."
"Of course, we wouldn't think of not doing as he ordered," Jack told her.
No shots had been heard since the men rode off and they were beginning to wonder if it was all over when two shots rang out close together.
"That's dad's old Betsey and it means for us to beat it," Sue said as she turned her horse. "Come on and come a-running."
She took the lead and the boys followed. If they had come out fast it seemed as though they were flying now, and the lights of the ranch house loomed up almost, it seemed, before they were fairly started. Then, when they were about a hundred yards from the house when Sue stopped so suddenly that Jack had all he could do to keep from running into her.
"Look," she gasped.
One glance was enough. At one corner of the big barn a thin blaze of light gleamed through the darkness.
"They've fired the barn," Bob cried. "Come on, Jack, we must put it out if possible."
"Just a minute," Sue called as he was about to start. "We don't know how many of them there may be and we must be careful."
"But listen——" Bob began, but Sue interrupted.
"You got your guns with you?"
"Sure."
"Then we'll ride on firing as fast as we can, and they may think that the whole outfit is coming."
"Good plan," Bob agreed. "Come on."
He led and they rode rapidly directly for the barn shooting and yelling at the top of their voices. No shots answered theirs and they reached the barn without seeing anyone. The lower part of the corner was blazing fiercely and it looked as though the barn would surely go. But all three were determined that it should not if they could prevent it. Fortunately there was a pump only a few yards away, and Bob shouted as he threw himself from his horse:
"See if there's a bucket at the well, Jack."
Then he ran for the house where he knew he would find several. He knew that the barn was filled with dry hay and if the fire once got to it there would be no chance of saving it. He was back almost immediately with two buckets to find Jack pumping furiously into an old leaky pail. Throwing down the empty ones he grabbed the other shouting:
"You and Sue keep 'em filled."
A good part of the water leaked out before he could get to the barn and what was left seemed to have no effect at all and, throwing the pail aside, he rushed back for another. This one was filled by the time he grabbed it and when he had dashed the contents on the fire he was a little encouraged. Back and forth he ran, but the fire persisted in eating its way into the dry timber and he feared that it was gaining on him. He had made over twenty trips and was about exhausted when, as he came back for another pailful, Jack shouted:
"Change places with me, Bob. You're about puffed."
Jack was comparatively fresh as Sue had been doing a part of the pumping and by the time he had made a dozen trips back and forth the fire was well under control.
"A couple more pailsfull and she'll be out," he panted.
"My, but it's lucky we got here just when we did," Sue declared a few minutes later as, the fight ended, they stood looking at the blackened timbers. "If it had got a bit more of a start it would have gone up sure as smoke."
"And in smoke," Jack laughed.
"What'll we do now?" Bob asked after a moment's silence.
"Have you heard any shooting since we got here?" Sue asked.
"No, but I reckon that doesn't mean that there hasn't been any. We've been so busy that I guess we wouldn't have heard it if a gattling gun had been in action out there."
"Listen a moment," Sue suggested.
But not a sound came to them and Sue soon declared that the raid must be over.
"I hope they didn't get away with any of the cattle," she added.
"What do you suppose they set fire to the barn for?" Jack asked.
"Oh, I imagine they were getting the worst of it and sent a couple of the men to fire the barn hoping that our men would see the fire and rush to put it out. Then they'd have the cattle to themselves. Or perhaps they just did it out of pure spite. They're bad enough to do anything."
"Had we better ride back?" Bob asked.
"I don't think so. The scrap must be over or we'd hear firing. No, I think we better go up to the house and wait till they come back."
"All right," Bob agreed. "But I'm going to take a look around first. You and Jack go up to the house and I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Yes, you will, not," Jack said quickly. "We'd have to spend the rest of the night and all day tomorrow hunting for you."
"Nonsense."
"No nonsense about it," Sue broke in. "If any of them are lurking around here they'd be sure to see you first and get the drop on you before you could do a thing. No, we'll all go to the house and sit tight till the boys get back. We can keep an eye on the barn, but I hardly think they'll try it again."
Bob, knowing that he had come to grief once through not taking Sue's advice, did not insist further, although he felt that it was a risky thing to leave the barn unprotected. They found the horses where they had left them and turned them into the corral after taking off the saddles, and then returned to the house. They had still heard no shot and Sue declared that some of them, at least, ought to be getting back.
"That is, if they aren't off chasing them," she added.
"Do you think they'd do that while it is so dark?" Jack asked.
"Goodness, I don't know. There's no accounting for what that dad of mine will do once he gets started."
"Well, it'll begin to get light in a half-hour or so," Bob told them glancing at his watch.
The coming dawn was just beginning to lift the darkness when they heard the beating of hoofs.
"There're coming," Sue cried, leading the way to the porch, and in about ten minutes Jeb and two of the men swung themselves from their dripping horses.
"You all safe?" was his first question.
"Right side up and a yard wide," Sue replied.
"Good. They got young Royce."
"Bad?" Sue's voice disclosed her anxiety.
"Just below the shoulder. I don't think it went through the lung, but I'm not sure."
"Where is he?"
"Down by the spring. I thought it best not to try to bring him in on horseback, so we came in for the buckboard. Slim is with him and he ain't bleeding nothing to speak of."
"But the rustlers?" Sue asked.
"They got away with about twenty-five head, I reckon. Had 'em cut out before we got there."
"But couldn't you follow them?" Bob asked.
"Sure, we did as far as the woods. You see," he went on to explain, "we knew it would be plum suicide to follow them into the forest."
"Why?" Jack asked as he paused.
"Because the man who is being followed always has the big advantage in the darkness, as he pretty well knows where the other fellow is and all he has to do is to wait for him to get up close enough and then pot him, and I don't risk human life for a few cattle. But, believe me, we ain't done with that gang, not by a long shot."
Bob was about to ask another question, but just then the two men, who had returned with Jeb, drove up with the buckboard.
"Get a bed ready and we'll be back in about half an hour," Jeb said as they drove off.
"Oh, I do hope that he isn't badly hurt," Sue said as she turned back to re-enter the house. "It would be too awful if he should die before he has a chance to make good."
"Isn't there a doctor anywhere near here?" Bob asked as he followed her in.
"Not nearer than Cold Springs. His name is Lawton. Suppose you try to get him on the phone while I get the bed ready. He has a flivver and ought to get here in a couple of hours if he's at home."
Bob got the number after what seemed a long time and, to his great relief, the doctor was at home and promised to get there as fast as his car would bring him. Meantime Jack had built a fire and put on water to heat and, after that there was nothing to do except wait for them to bring the wounded man in.
It was not long, however, before they heard the sound of wheels and they had hardly more than gotten on to the porch when the buckboard turned in at the gafe. Royce looked very white as they lifted him carefully from the seat where Jeb had been holding him.
"Is he dead?" Sue gasped as she caught sight of his white face.
"Only fainted," her father assured her.
Carefully they placed the wounded man on the bed and Sue hastened to fetch a basin of cold water, and, under her skilled ministration, he soon opened his eyes with a deep sigh.
"Don't try to speak," Sue ordered, laying her cool hand on his brow.
The youth smiled weakly and closed his eyes.
"Get me the hot water," she whispered to Bob.
"Sue's about as good as a doctor," Jeb told him as he turned to obey. "But I ought to have told you to call Lawton."
"I did, sir, and he's coming as soon as possible," Bob replied.
"That's good. That man knows his business."
Bob was back with the water in less than a minute and, ordering them all out of the room, the girl set to work.
"He's asleep, now, and I think he'll pull through," she told the boys when she joined them on the porch a half-hour later, "I'm pretty sure the bullet just missed the lung and it went right through, making a clean wound."
"That's fine," Bob rejoiced. "You know, I believe that there's a lot of good in him only he's evidently weak."
"And he'll have you to thank if he makes good," Jack declared.
Before Bob had time to say anything Charlie came to the door to tell them that breakfast was ready and they lost no time in obeying the summons.
"How came you fired those two shots for us to beat it back, dad?" Sue asked as soon as they were seated.
"I didn't."
"But we heard them."
"Must be some other gun sounds like Betsey, then."
"But it's funny you didn't hear them."
"Maybe I was too excited," Jeb grinned.
"Well, it's mighty lucky someone fired them."
"How come?"
Then she told him about the fire and what a time they had had to put it out.
"You're right it was lucky," Jeb assured them when she had finished. "It would have hit us mighty hard if that barn had gone up. It would have made us short on hay for next winter. The skunks. This country's got to get rid of them some way or other."
"How about the sheriff?" Bob asked. "Can't he do anything?"
"Frankly I don't know," Jeb told them. "He's a fellow by the name of Longly, Skeets Longly, they call him, and he does an awful lot of blowing about what he's going to do but, somehow or other, he doesn't seem to get many results. Oh, I know he's up against a hard proposition when he's bucking the Hains gang but, what I say is that if he can't do the job, and it seems he can't, he ought to call on the state troops. I'll bet they'd clean it up but Skeets he can't seem to see it that way, leastwise he hasn't yet."
As soon as breakfast was over Sue hastened to see to her patient and returned almost at once with the news that he was still sleeping and seemed to be doing well.
"Where's the rest of the boys?" she asked as soon as she made her report.
"I told them to stay with the herd," Jeb told her. "Charlie's putting up some grub and one of the boys'll take it out to them."
"You think they'll come back?"
"Can't tell but I'm taking no chances."
About an hour later Dr. Lawton drove noisily into the yard, the radiator of his little car steaming like a locomotive. He was a little man, hardly over five feet tall, and probably did not weigh much over a hundred pounds. But what he lacked in size he more than made up for in energy.
"Where's the patient?" he demanded as he jumped out of the car.
"In here, doctor. Follow me," Sue ordered.
They were gone the better part of an hour while Jeb and the two boys anxiously awaited his report on the front porch. Finally they came out.
"Well?" Jeb asked.
"Waste of my time coming way out here," the little doctor growled. "That girl of yours is as good as any doctor."
"Huh, from the time you've taken I thought you must be taking him apart to see what makes the wheels go round."
"Had to do something to earn my fee, but he'll be as fit's a fiddle in a couple of weeks. But if that bullet had gone in half an inch lower down 'twould have been another story. By the way, who is he? Reminds me of a young fellow I've seen hanging around the hotel in town."
"Guess likely he's the fellow," Jeb said and told him Royce's story.
"Thought I wasn't mistaken," the doctor said when he had finished. "Well, he's fallen into good hands, all right, if he wants to turn over a new leaf and go straight."
"Oh, I'm sure he does," Sue assured him.
"Well, I hope so, but you never can tell about these fellows you pick up. Well, I must be getting back. Got a lot of work to do. Keep him quiet for a few days and you won't need me again."
"Red Hains got twenty-five or thirty of my cattle last night. That's how he got shot. Tried to capture the whole gang, he did. When you get back to town tell Skeets about it, will you? I don't suppose 'twill do any good, but you tell him just the same," Jeb said as the doctor, after filling the radiator, climbed into the car and started the engine.
"I'll tell him all right and give him a piece of my mind in the bargain," the doctor promised as he turned the car and shot out of the gate.
"He's not much to look at," Jeb smiled as he sat down, "but when it comes to action he's like a bundle of coiled springs. If we had him for sheriff it'd be a lot healthier around here. He's been urged to take the office but he says he has too many folks to put together now without trying to take more of them apart."
A week passed and nothing more had been seen or heard of the Hains gang. The boys insisted on being a part of the day shift and from six in the morning until six at night they were out guarding the herd. It was a free open life and they enjoyed every minute of it. Young Royce improved steadily and by the end of the week was able to sit up a part of the time.
Several hours each day, while they were on duty, the boys, under the skillful tutelage of Slim and Slats, practiced throwing the lasso, a sport which they found very fascinating.
"Yer'll shore be experts if yer keep it up much longer," Slats told them after Bob had just executed a particularly difficult throw over the head of a young bull.
"When I can throw as well as you can I'll be satisfied," Bob told him.
"What, him?" Slim had come up in time to hear Bob's remark. "Shaw, he's no good."
"Who's no good?" Slats demanded very red in the face.
"You ain't, that is, not with a rope, you ain't."
"Huh, 'f I couldn't beat you two ways o' Sundays the only use I'd make of a rope'd be to hang myself." Slats retorted.
"Whar'd yer want us ter sent yer remains?" Slim asked gravely.
"Thar ain't goin' ter be any remains not till yer improve a whole lot," Slats flung at him as he turned away to attend to some duty. "Slim's all right," he continued, turning to the boys, "till he thinks somebody thinks as how he can do sumpin' better nor he can, then he jest has to naturally shoot off his mouth."
"But——"
"Course Slim's a good roper but, laws sakes wouldn't do ter let him know yer thinks so. Why only 'bout a month ago some idjut as ought ter have known better, complimented him on his throwin' an' right away he went an' bought a new hat two sizes larger nor he'd been wearin' an' his old one only six years old come next winter."
It was perhaps an hour later when Slim had a chance to tell his side.
"Yer'd think ter hear that tall shank o' bones talk that he'd invented the art o' ropin'. Why, bless yer heart, I've seen that guy miss more steers nor yer could shake a stick at/ Only time he's sure of catchin' anything's when he's right enough ter lay the loop over 'thout throwin' it 'tall."
Then, as he noticed the look of incredulity on the
"Course I'm only speakin' in comparative terms, so to speak. What I mean is that compared with some he'd measure up fairly well, mebby better nor the average. But 'twouldn't do ter let him think yer think so. He's the greatest feller yer ever saw ter get a big head, Slats is. Why, 'twont more'n a month ago that he went an' bought a new hat two sizes bigger nor the one he'd been wearing jest because some feller told him a throw he'd made was the best he'd ever seen."
"And I don't suppose his old one was more than six years old," Bob said soberly.
"'Twon't that much, he'd only had it five years come Christmas."
"Can you beat it?" Bob asked a moment later after the cowboy had left them. "And yet, I reckon it would be hard to find two better friends anywhere."
"You said it," Jack agreed. "Why only the other day Slats gave Grumpy a licking because he said that Slim was too big for his pants."
"They're a funny pair all right, but mighty good fellows when it comes right down to brass tacks. But who's that fellow?" Bob asked pointing toward a horseman who was riding toward them.
"He's not one of our boys, that's sure."
They were, at the time, on the side of the herd nearest the house, all the others being some distance away and the man was approaching from the direction of Cold Springs. As he came nearer they could see that he was middle aged, roughly, even raggedly dressed, and rode a horse which looked as disreputable as himself.
"Hello, boys," he sang out when he was within a few feet of them.
"How do you do?" Bob replied courteously.
"Only middling. What ranch is this here?"
"It's the Lazy S," Bob told him.
"Lazy S, eh. Looks like it had better be called the Busy S," he returned, glancing about. "How's chances on landing a job?"
"You'll have to see Mr. Stebbins," Bob told him.
"Whar is he?"
"He's probably at the house."
"And how far away is it?"
"About two miles," Bob told him.
"Think he wants any more help?"
"Really I couldn't say."
"I heard him say the other day that he'd like one or two more men," Jack volunteered.
"That's good news cause I sure do need one. Which way is the house?"
"That way," Bob replied pointing. "You'll see it as soon as you get over that rise."
"Then I go see him. Did you say he name is Steblits?"
"Stebbins," Jack corrected him.
"Stebbins. I'll try to remember it," the man said as he turned his horse and, with a parting wave of his hand, rode off.
"He looks as though he might have seen better days," Jack said when he was out of hearing.
"Doesn't look as though he could have seen much worse ones," Bob replied and then he remained in deep thought till Jack said:
"A penny for your thoughts."
"I was just thinking that I've seen that man before."
"You have? Where?"
"That's what I was trying to remember."
"Well, don't let me interrupt."
For several moments Bob did not speak. Something in the man's voice rather than his looks had awakened the memory of a few days past. Once again he was sitting on a log watching a group of men as they sat about a fire playing cards.
"I have it," he finally burst out. "That man belongs to Red Hains' gang."
"What?"
"You heard what I said."
"But are you sure?'
"Almost. You see, I didn't get a very good look at all of them but I remember that voice."
"But what's he doing here?"
"We could only guess at that but, taking it for granted that I'm right, what would you guess?"
"That he's a spy, of course."
"That may be. Yes, you're probably right but my guess is that he's spying after Royce."
"You mean—?"
"I mean that if he's the man I think he is, I believe Hains has sent him here to do some harm to Royce."
"What'll we do about it?"
"We ought to warn Jeb before he hires him, but I don't see how we can do it."
"Nor I. We couldn't possibly get to the house ahead of him without him seeing us."
"I have it," Bob said a moment later.
"What's your plan?"
"I'll go catch up with him and make some excuse for going to the house, and maybe I'll get a chance for a word with Jeb before he sees him. If he's all right he can't object and if he isn't we should worry."
"Good enough, but keep an eye on him. If he's what you suspect he'll be suspicious. Don't let him get the drop on you," Jack cautioned as Bob mounted his horse.
"I'll be careful," he called back.
The stranger's horse was fully as slow as his appearance indicated and it was but a few minutes when Satan drew up alongside him. The man glanced at Bob interrogatively but did not appear either displeased or surprised.
"Just thought of something I had to go to the house for," Bob told him.
"That's fine. I like company. Yer see I'm a social critter, I am."
But he did not seem inclined to talk much as they jogged along, although he answered pleasantly enough whenever Bob spoke to him. To Bob's disappointment Jeb came onto the porch as they rode through the gate. He had hoped to be able to tell him what he knew about the man before they met but now that was impossible.
"That Stebbins?" the man asked
"Yes, that's he."
Bob noticed that Jeb was looking at the stranger rather closely as he slipped from his horse and advanced to meet him.
"The boy said as how you needed another hand," he began resting one foot on the lower step.
"Well, I don't know. Guess maybe, I could use another man."
"Then I'm your best bet. I kin do most anythin' from roping ter cooking."
"What's your handle?"
"Most folks call me Los Varney."
"I thought so but wasn't quite sure," Jeb cried holding out his hand. "Don't you remember me?"
"Blast my eyes if it ain't old Jeb," the man almost shouted grasping the outstretched hand. "The boy said as how yer name was Stebbins but I didn't connect up with yer. Thought yer'd gone East and it must be all of fifteen year since we was up in the Bad Lands."
"It's nearer twenty," Jeb told him still shaking his hand.
"Mebby so, mebby so. Time sure gets away fast when yer get along in years, don't it?"
"It sure does," Jeb agreed. "But how's the world been using you?"
"Oh, 'bout good's I deserve, I reckon. Yer know I never could keep a hold on any coin an' jest now well, I sure need a job."
"Well, you've got one," Jeb assured him. "Turn your nag into the corral and then come and get a bite, that is if you're hungry."
"Ever remember seein' me when I wasn't?" the man grinned.
Bob had stood by while the two men were talking, his astonishment growing with every sentence. Was it possible that he was mistaken? It would seem so but he knew that he had an almost uncanny memory of voices and he was not at all satisfied even though Jeb had recognized in the man an old friend. Should he tell Jeb what he suspected or would it be better to wait developments? Perhaps it would be the better plan to speak to Royce first and let him have a chance to recognize the man if he had been a member of the gang. Yes, that was the best plan, he decided and, throwing the reins over Satan's head, he entered the house.
He found Royce in the big living room sitting by the window. He looked as Bob entered the room.
"Hello, Bob. In early aren't you?" he greeted him.
"A little. I want to ask you something."
"All right, shoot."
"Was there a man by the name of Los Varney in Hains' gang?"
"Los Varney? Let me see. No, I think not, leastwise I don't remember the name."
"You're sure?"
"Yep. That's not a name to forget very easily, but, of course, I suppose most of them went by assumed names and he might have been calling himself something else. But what's the idea?"
Bob told him about the man who had applied for a job and his suspicions concerning him.
"But you say Jeb knows him?" he asked as soon as he had finished.
"Yes, he knows him all right. In fact it seems that they're old friends or, at least, used to be."
"Then I guess that settles it."
"Not necessarily. You see, it's been twenty years or so since they have seen each other and I reckon a man go bad in less time than that."
"Well, that's right too," and Bob noticed that a pained look crossed the other's face.
"I didn't mean—" he began, but Royce interrupted.
"I know you didn't. What kind of a looking fellow is he?"
"About average height, around forty-five, smooth shaved, or rather he was perhaps four or five days ago. Has a rather high forehead and brown hair. That's about as well as I can describe him."
"But that description would fit half the members of the gang," Royce smiled.
"I know it but it's the best I can do. You see, he hasn't any outstanding characteristcs which make him easy to describe. I reckon we'll have to wait till you see him."
The opportunity came about a half hour later when the man came into the room with Jeb.
"You've met Bob here," Jeb said. "And this is Royce. He's got nicked a few days ago in a rumpus we had with the Hains gang."
Bob watched the man closely as he stepped forward and held out his hand to Royce.
"Glad ter meet yer, son," he said.
"Thanks. I'm glad to know any friend of Mr. Stebbins," Royce said easily.
Bob could see that he was scanning the man's face closely but, to his surprise, there was no look of recognition in his eyes. Jeb and Varney soon went out and the two were alone again.
"Well?" Bob asked.
"Nothing doing. Never saw the man before."
"You're sure?"
"Reasonably. Of course, he may have worn at beard and has shaved it off. That probably would change his looks enough so that I wouldn't recognize him. You know, I was only with them a couple of days and, of course, didn't get to know any of them very well."
"Well, if he's what I thought, he's one peach of an actor," Bob declared.
It was not until after supper was over that Bob had a chance to tell Jack what had happened. He knew by the looks on his brother's face that he was crazy to learn how the man had succeeded in getting into the good graces of Jeb.
"What's the idea?" he asked as soon as he got Bob alone out by the corral. Bob told him what had happened and he gave a low whistle.
"So you missed it that time?"
"I'm not so certain of that," Bob replied.
"But if he's a friend of Jeb."
"That's what Royce said, but, after all, that doesn't prove anything. I tell you, Jack, that man was playing cards by that fire the night they had me caught. I know it but, of course, it's another thing to prove it."
"Did you tell Jeb?"
"Not yet. Think I better?"
"Of course. What's the use in taking chances?"
"I suppose you're right, but I bet he'll laugh at the idea. Remember, all I've got to go on is his voice."
It happened that Jeb joined them at that moment and Bob told him all about it. Jeb's face was very thoughtful while he was telling the story and when he had finished, he said:
"I think you must be mistaken, Bob, but I'm glad you told me. There's no doubt that he's Los Varney all right, but it's not at all impossible that you may be right. It's a long time ago that I knew him and we were together for a year or more, but I've lost track of him since then and he may have gone wrong although, frankly, I don't think so. However we'll keep an eye open and 'forewarned is forearmed' you know."
"He didn't laugh anyhow," Jack declared as soon as they were alone again.
Three days went by. Los Varney proved that he had made no idle boast when he had said that he could do most anything. The man was a splendid rider and roper, and a good mixer with the boys who seemed to like him from the very first. Bob could not see that he displayed any more interest in Royce than was perfectly natural for one of his make up. He seemed naturally sympathetic and appeared anxious to cheer the boy up whenever occasion offered. But that was all.
But there was one member of the household who did not like Los Varney.
"He's a snake in the grass," Sue told Bob before Los had been with them a day.
"What makes you say that?" Bob asked her.
"How do I know. I just know it, that's all," she retorted.
"Intuition?"
"Maybe."
And then Bob told her what he suspected and why.
"I knew it," she declared, her eyes flashing fire, as soon as he had finished.
"Then you think I'm right?"
"Of course, you're right. Didn't I tell you he's crooked?"
"But how can I prove it?"
"You can't. That is you can't till something happens but, you take my word for it, something'll happen before many days go by. Those fellows are short on patience and don't wait long. You'll see."
It was two nights later when something happened which proved to Bob, at least, that both Sue and he were right in their judgment of Los Varney. He woke up sometime during the night and, for some reason which he could not fathom, was unable to go to sleep again. He turned first on one side and then on the other, but it was no use. He was not conscious that he had heard anything or that anything had awakened him. Finally he determined to get a drink of water and slipped quietly from the bed careful not to disturb his brother.
In the kitchen he found the pail empty and, knowing that he would probably wake the whole family if he used the pump, he determined to go out to the pump near the barn. The night was very warm and he did not fear taking cold even though he was clad only in his pajamas. He had gotten his drink and was about to start back when something down by the corral caught his eye. It was bright moonlight and he could see for a long distance.
"Wonder what that is," he thought.
Then he quickly slipped behind a tree, for he had seen that it was a man. The distance was too great for him to be able to identify him but he did note that it was a man of average height. For some moments the man stood perfectly still and, happening to raise his eyes, Bob saw far out on the prairie the flash of light. Three times it flashed and then stopped. Then he glanced toward the man by the corral and his heart gave a great bound as he saw the signal returned.
"I knew it," he thought. "But I've got to be sure that it's he."
But that was easier thought than done. There was nothing between the tree and the corral behind which he could hide and the man would not come much nearer him than he now was if he waited until he returned to the house. While he was trying to devise some plan the signal from the prairie came again and this time it flashed for a longer time before waiting for the answer. At first Bob thought they might be using the Morse code. He could read it easily but when he tried to translate the flashes into words he was unable to get a single letter and was forced to conclude that they were using an arbitrary code.
He thought of making a wide detour behind the barn and up the other side of the corral but decided that it would take so much time that the chances were that the man would be gone before he could get there. Then suddenly a plan struck him which he believed gave a fair promise of success, provided only that the man did not see him too soon.
Stretching both arms out in front he stepped boldly out from behind the tree and started to walk directly toward the man who was still flashing his light. If only he would keep it up until he got near enough to see him plainly, he thought, and walked as rapidly as he dared. Closer and closer he came and still the man did not once turn around. Not until he was within twenty feet of him did he become aware of his presence, then he turned and saw him.
"What are you—" the man began and then stopped for Bob was walking straight past seemingly not paying him the slightest attention. "He's sleep walkin'," he heard him mutter as he passed within three feet of him.
It was Los Varney, Bob got a good look at his face just as he turned and he also had no trouble in recognizing his voice. He walked straight past him and did not change his course until he was all of a hundred yards away. Then he turned in such a way as to bring him back in a wide circle to the front of the house. What Los was doing he did not know as he did not dare to turn his head in the slightest degree. The man might be following him and he feared that the least false move would give him away. So he reached the house and got to his room without another sight of the man.
"Whew, but I believe it worked," he thought as he crept into bed.
That Los Varney was the man he thought had been proven to his own satisfaction but just what his object was was still an open question. Was it to wreak vengeance on Royce for deserting the gang or was it to gain some information which would enable Hains to run off more cattle? Ought he to go to Jeb at once and tell him what he had seen or would it be better to wait until morning. On the one hand there was the possibility that they were going to make another raid that very night but, on the other, should he try and inform the foreman right away, the chances were more than even that Los would be aware of it. On the whole he decided that the better plan was to wait until morning and take a chance that whatever the signals meant it was not scheduled for that night.