CHAPTER VIII
The incident of the escaped rustlers was forgotten for the time while Belle prepared for her visit to the 8 X 8. Mr. Manley discarded his gun the day she was to leave, whether because of what he had heard at Eagles or because he deemed it no longer necessary, was a matter for speculation. At all events, he had recovered his good humor and directed many quips at the care Roy and Teddy were taking with their appearance before they set out. It had been arranged that the brothers were to drive Belle over in a car and return later in the evening.
“I see you boys are goin’ some place,” Mr. Manley said, as he stood at the door of their room, hands deep in his pockets, corncob pipe emitting clouds of fragrant smoke.
“Taking a ride,” Teddy answered, without turning. He was adjusting his tie at the mirror. Roy, beside him, was occupied in the same manner. Teddy just touched his brother with his elbow, and winked in the glass.
“Well—er—any particular place?” their father asked innocently.
“Vienna,” Teddy replied, grinning.
“Vienna, hey?” Mr. Manley considered this for a moment. “Goin’ to a show there?”
“Nope,” and Teddy winked again. “Just going to loaf around a bit.”
“Goin’ to loaf around—” Then Mr. Manley woke up and sent out a roar of laughter. “Good shot, Teddy! You’re gettin’ better! Be almost a match for me soon. Well, good luck to you, an’ don’t take any wooden nickels!” Still chuckling, he tramped away.
“Dad seems to be O. K. now,” Roy remarked, as he gave his tie a final twist. “I’m glad to notice it. I don’t like to see him worried. Come along, you look beautiful! Get a move on! We’ve got to get started.”
“Just a second.”
Opening the top drawer of the dresser, Teddy took out two pistols, both smaller than the large guns usually carried in that vicinity. One of these he handed to Roy and the other he placed in an upper inside pocket under his left arm. Roy nodded in approval.
“Just in case,” Teddy explained, and, putting on their coats, the two boys descended the stairs.
They told their father, out of hearing of Mrs. Manley, however, who might worry unnecessarily, that they were armed. The ranch owner commended their foresight and remarked that he was about to suggest it himself. He knew the boys were to be depended upon. Living on the range brings self-reliance early in life, and Mr. Manley felt proud of the fact that his sons were true men of the West—courageous and upright.
As the car rolled out of the ranch yard with Roy driving and Belle and Teddy beside him in the front seat, Sing Lung burst from the door of the cook-house.
“Late!” he yelled. “You late!”
“What’s he mean—‘late?’ ” Teddy asked curiously.
“He means wait,” Belle answered, with a smile. “Hold up for a minute, Roy. He wants to give us something.”
Sing Lung ran towards them, a package in his hand. A broad grin lighted his face.
“You maybe get hungly, yes?” he said, placing the package in Belle’s lap. “I flix lunch!”
“That’s very kind of you, Sing Lung,” Belle declared, smiling her gratitude. Belle was plainly the cook’s favorite. “We’ll be glad to have this. Thank you, a lot!”
“All lite!” with a still wider grin. “You wal-com’. Goo’-bye. Have nice time! Jumpee allee slidewalks!”
“He means skip the gutter,” Teddy explained, laughing, as the car proceeded. “Nick must have taught him that. ‘Jump the slidewalks!’ That’s a hot one! Trust the Chinks to get everything backwards.”
“Never mind; Sing Lung is one good Chink,” Roy declared. “This lunch will sure come in handy.”
“ ‘Jump the slidewalks’ means ‘skip the gutter,’ and ‘skip the gutter’ means—perhaps, ‘jump the slidewalks?’ Now, just what did Sing Lung mean, boys?”
But Belle’s brothers refused to be drawn into explanations or argument.
Seven miles out from their home ranch a report suddenly sounded from under the car, and it lurched crazily. Roy jammed on the brakes vigorously.
“Blowout,” he said shortly. “Might have known that ’ud happen! Just when we get rolling along nicely, the tire goes. Well,” he jumped from the car and bent down, “she’s done for, all right. And any one who pulls that old chestnut about ‘only flat on one side’ will have to fix it all alone! Come on Teddy—you posing for a statue?”
Teddy grinned, and alighted, as did Belle. Luckily, there were two good spares on the rear, so there was no danger of a long delay. The jack was soon out, and one of the tires taken from the rack.
When Roy had lifted the spare in position for tightening the lugs, he stood back for a moment and looked around him.
“This is a great place for a rattler,” he declared, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Pop said he saw a whole nest of ’em somewhere around here.”
“Thought you said Pop was full of crazy ideas?” Teddy retorted, thinking of the porcupine incident when he had told Roy about Pop’s believing the “shooting quill” theory.
“Well, he may not know porcupines, but he sure does know about snakes,” the elder youth asserted. “And if you’re wise, you won’t go fooling around a spot where Pop says there are rattlers. This is one swell day for ’em, too! Hand me that lug wrench, will you, Teddy?”
Teddy complied, and assisted Roy in fastening the tire to the rim. When it was firmly attached, Roy straightened and heaved a sigh of relief. As he did so his eyes swept the horizon, and he stared intently, one hand shading his eyes.
“What is it, Roy?” Belle asked, looking at her brother.
“Dust,” Roy answered. “See it, Teddy? Top of that hill. Whoever’s making it must be just below the rise. Wonder if it’s some of Pete Ball’s men? Likely to be. Come on, let’s get this stuff away and start. We haven’t got far to go, but that sun’s hotter than all get out. Teddy, how about making yourself useful, and putting some of these tools away?”
“Sure,” his brother answered. “Thought you wanted to do it all yourself.”
A pair of pliers had fallen to the ground from the running board, and Teddy stooped to pick them up, his other hand resting on the door of the car, while he groped for the tool, bending down low.
“Golly, it’s sure hot!” he exclaimed, still groping and searching. “Why couldn’t the tire have blown out under a tree? Say, where in thunder are those pliers, anyhow?”
“Maybe it ’ud help if youlookedfor ’em, instead of watching that cloud of dust,” Roy declared, grinning. “Belle, can’t you help your little brother find the pliers?”
“Got ’em!” Teddy suddenly exclaimed, as his hand closed over them. “They were away under the car, and I couldn’t see gettin’ down in this dirt to look for ’em. Anyway—”
He started to withdraw his hand. There was a sudden loud “whir-r-r” as though a strip of tin were rapidly bent and released. Roy saw Teddy’s whole body give a convulsive shudder and watched his face go deathly pale. Pop Burns’ warning flashed to his mind.
“Teddy!” he cried, jumping forward. “Your hand!”
Belle screamed, and ran to her brother’s side. Quickly she seized the left arm that had been under the auto and turned it over so that the back of the hand was uppermost. A thin line of blood showed red against the tan.
Teddy looked at it as though he were examining a curiosity. Then he laughed—at least, that is the only word to describe the sound that came from his lips. In a moment he stopped, and caught his breath.
“Got me,” he said simply.
The three stood by the side of the car, shocked into silence. Belle retained her hold on Teddy’s arm. Roy, his eyes wide, stared at the few drops of blood. Teddy’s shoulders were thrown back, every muscle rigid. He looked straight ahead.
Roy was the first to move. He reached out quickly, and seized his brother’s wrist in a firm grip, squeezing it with all his strength.
“Belle,” he said in a low voice, “reach into my pocket and bring out a handkerchief. We’ve got to make a tourniquet, so the poison won’t get up his arm. Quick!”
Drawing in a deep breath, Belle obeyed. Teddy swayed slightly, then got a grip on himself. His teeth clenched.
“Roy,” he said quietly, “hold my arm over a way.”
Wondering, Roy changed his position. Teddy reached inside his coat with his right hand, and drew out a gun. Then Roy understood.
Whatever happened, they must kill that rattler. He had bitten—he must die. His head must be blown from his body, and they must cut him with lead until his lashings ceased and the tail grew still.
Eyes blazing, Teddy once more bent over. Roy retained his desperate grip on his brother’s wrist. Belle, eyes wide with horror, stepped back. The scene was almost too much for her, Western bred though she was. Teddy, bitten by a crawling death, calmly intent on just one thing—killing the snake that had bitten him! Roy holding back the poison from his brother’s body with one hand, while he steadied him with the other, so that he might not miss!
With her heart in her throat, Belle waited for the shot. After the snake had been killed—what? She could picture Teddy sitting stoically in the car as it careened its way toward the ranch—Teddy, his arm black from the tourniquet, perhaps remarking that Roy would have to take charge of the place for the rest of the week and would he see that Flash got enough exercise, and all the while his lips were twisted with burning pain! Teddy!
Would he never fire? What was he waiting for?
“Shoot! Oh, shoot!” Belle gasped. “Teddy—kill him and come away!”
Still the two boys were bent over, staring beneath the car. Then Belle saw Roy slowly release his hold on his brother’s wrist. A sound strangely like a chuckle came from him. What—what had happened?
“Teddy! Roy!” Belle cried. “What is it? Why are you waiting? The snake—”
For a moment she thought her brothers had gone mad, and well she might, for, straightening up, the boys burst into roars of laughter. They leaned weakly against the side of the car, Teddy’s gun hanging limply, his body shaking with mirth! Roy was pounding him on the back, while he himself was scarcely able to stand. This was more than laughter, it was almost hysteria—the hysteria of great and sudden relief.
Then when Roy caught sight of his sister’s face, he sobered.
“It’s all right, sis,” he declared, tears of laughter still in his eyes. “Don’t look so scared. We’re not crazy—and Teddy isn’t hurt. He didn’t get bitten by a rattler at all!”
“Didn’t—didn’t—get bitten! Roy, I don’t understand—”
“Look!”
He motioned to his sister to bend down and peer under the car. As he did so Roy’s hand reached out—and there followed that same “whir-r-r-r” they had heard before.
“Get it?” Roy exclaimed, his laughter starting up again. “This—this piece of tin under the running board! See? When I hit it, it whirs. Teddy’s hand scraped it, and it buzzed and scratched his hand. And we thought it was a rattler! Oh, baby, what a couple of saps! Wait till dad and Nick hear about this!”
“He didn’t get bitten?” Belle repeated, hardly able to realize what had happened. “There wasn’t any snake?” she questioned incredulously.
“Nary snake—just this tin! That’s all!”
With a sob of relief, Belle threw her arms around her brother’s neck.
“Oh, Teddy!” she gasped. “I’m so glad—so glad! Oh, Teddy, I thought you were going to die! And when you were bending over with the gun, just thinking about killing the old rattlesnake, I—I—”
“Hey, sis, come out of it!” Teddy said a trifle shakily. He kissed her full on the lips. “Thought you’d have to play jokes on Roy all alone after this, did you? Well, I’m still here—and we won’t forget how he teased you the other night on the porch, either! We’ll get him for that! I got a great idea—only he’s listening now. When we get home—”
It was just this that was needed to calm Belle. The strain she had been under had been terrific, and it is no wonder that, when it was over, she broke down. But now she dried her eyes and raised her head.
“Only a piece of tin!” she exclaimed, a smile coming over her face. “And even Teddy thought he had been bitten! But whatever it was—I’m glad you’re all right, Teddy dear! And now, I have an idea.”
Belle was once more herself. Patting her hair, she walked steadily toward the car. Then she flung open the door and held up a white package. It was the lunch Sing Lung had prepared.
“Gentlemen,” she cried, “dinner is served! Long live Sing Lung! Come and get it!”
CHAPTER IX
As the Manley boys and their sister sat in the car munching sandwiches, now and then Teddy would glance at his hand, which still showed the red scratch, and shake his head in wonder that such a strange mistake could have happened. It hardly seemed possible that one could imagine he had been bitten by a rattler when there was no snake within miles, for all they knew. Yet, the “whir-r-r” of that tin certainly did sound like the warning of a side-winder. And when his hand had been injured at the same time—what other conclusion could be drawn?
Of course both Roy and Teddy knew that a snake’s bite would usually be nothing more than two small punctures in the flesh, yet if the hand was being withdrawn when the fangs hit it, the flesh could easily be torn.
The two boys and their sister did not talk much of Teddy’s experience. Somehow, it hardly seemed the thing to joke about, even though it had turned out so fortunately. The laughter of the boys on discovering the piece of tin was not born of true mirth, but was a natural outlet for the strain they had been under.
It took some time for the travelers to recover their usual spirits, but Sing Lung’s food helped a great deal, and when the sandwiches were finished they set off once more toward the 8 X 8 with lighter hearts. And as they proceeded, the reaction set in—a reaction of happy, carefree joyousness. The boys thought of Nell and Curly, and, as always happens after a period of depression, anticipation of coming pleasure swelled to mountainous proportions in their minds. The whole world suddenly appeared rose-colored, and the most prosaic things in it took on a carnival aspect. The sun-drenched trees they passed seemed to smile at them. It was no longer hot, but only pleasantly warm—a wonderful day for anything.
“Yay, look at ole cottontail” Teddy yelled, pointing ahead. “Go get him, Roy! Step on it!”
“Ri-i-i-ight!” sang out Roy, and pressed the accelerator. The car shot forward, Belle mingling her laughter with that of her brothers.
“Ten dollars if you keep that cab in sight!” she called, melodramatically pointing to the rabbit scurrying ahead. “And another ten if you catch it before it reaches the ship! Don’t spare the horses!”
“Yes, ma’am!” came the answer. “I suppose Miss Vere De Vere is in it with her uncle, who is kidnapping her so that he can get control of the family fortune—the dir-r-r-rty rat!”
“And then some!” Belle laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Roy, you ought to be on the stage. Say, you’d better slow down before you get another blowout.”
Her brother saw the wisdom of this advice, and took on a slower pace while the rabbit disappeared in the brush. The high spirits of the three were by no means lessened when they reached the 8 X 8, and they piled out with loud yells. Nell and Ethel ran into the yard when they heard the uproar.
“The stage has arrived!” Teddy shouted, grinning. “Good morning, Ethel and Nell. I hope our visit finds you well. It is with great pleasure we see you again—and—and— Now what else did mother tell me to say?”
“Dry up, Teddy,” Roy laughed, walking toward the two girls. “Don’t mind him. He gets that way every once in a while, but he’s harmless. How are you, Nell and Ethel? We brought our little sister over to see you.”
“Little!” Belle laughed scornfully. “I’m almost as big as you are, Roy Manley! And I can shoot almost as well as you can, too! Oh, Nell, what a lovely dress! Wheredidyou get it!”
After Belle and the two boys had removed some of the stains of travel, they all gathered in the dining room for lunch. Belle said that they had had some sandwiches on the way, but Teddy quickly explained that they werevery small, and, anyway, one couldn’t live on sandwiches. And, with this excuse for the coming slaughter, he and Roy proceeded to “go to work” on the very excellent food before them.
In the afternoon, while the girls were resting, the two boys wandered over toward the bunk-house to talk to Bug Eye, who was detailed to make out a list of the things needed on the ranch before the fall round-up. He was busily engaged when the brothers entered, and paused with his pencil to the paper and looked up.
“Say,” he began, “is ‘saddle’ spelt ‘a-l’ or ‘e-l’?”
“The ‘X’ is silent, like in fish,” Teddy replied. “What are you doing, Bug Eye? Writing notes to the cows?”
“Not any,” came from the puncher, as he stretched and yawned widely. “The boss has got me to figerin’ out how much stuff we lost durin’ the summer an’ how much we need. Some job! Rather be punchin’ dogies any day. Say, what you boys been doin’ with yoreselves? Hear any more about that gang from Hawley? Nick Looker told me about the note you got.”
Roy flung one leg over the table Bug Eye was writing on, and glanced idly at the piece of paper scribbed over with figures.
“The jail in Hawley was cleaned out,” he said slowly. “You knew about that?”
“No! You don’t say!” Surprise was written on Bug Eye’s face. “You mean to tell me them rustlers are loose again, after all the trouble we had to round ’em up? Great snakes! How’d that happen, an’ when?”
“The other day,” Teddy answered, watching his brother closely. Roy seemed intent on the paper spread on the table before him. “The sheriff and his deputies were chasing some would-be gunmen out of town, and when they came back the prisoners were gone. Probably away on a week-end visit.”
“Now, what do you know about that?” Bug Eye shook his head. “Froud, too? He gone?”
“Not quite,” Teddy replied, and told of Froud’s removal to another jail before the delivery. “So he’s still sittin’ out of the sun!”
“Say, Bug Eye!” Roy exclaimed suddenly, “you got that wrong.” He pointed to the paper. “That should be a capital R. If Mr. Ball is going to see this paper, you might as well have it right. See? Make that a capital.”
“Shore,” Bug Eye replied, and laboriously effected the correction. Roy watched him carefully. “Thanks, Roy. Guess that kind of slipped by me. How long you boys goin’ to stay with us?”
Teddy answered, and the conversation came to a close when Roy suggested that they were interrupting the puncher’s work. The two boys wandered back toward the ranch house. The moment they were out of hearing of Bug Eye, Teddy asked:
“Say, Roy, what was the big idea? You were watching that paper Bug Eye was writing on pretty closely. And rawhide doesn’t start with a capital R. How come?”
“Just a little plan of my own,” Roy replied vaguely. “That note, you know. Signed Reltsur. I thought maybe—”
“That Bug Eye wrote it?” Teddy inquired in an incredulous voice. “Well, for the love of Pete, what ever put that into your head? Bug Eye do a thing like that? Not on your life!”
“I know it now,” Roy said shortly. “I don’t know why I suspected him. Just one of those crazy ideas you get, I guess. That capital R seemed to stick in my mind. Come on, I think Belle and the two girls are around somewhere. Let’s go and see.”
Teddy shook his head slowly and followed his brother. What was getting into Roy? Thinking Bug Eye wrote that note! Why, Bug Eye didn’t ride slouched in the saddle! He forked a bronc like any other puncher in those parts.
Then, a few days before, Roy had mentioned seeing the slouched rider directly after the landslide when he was searching for Teddy. As though the strange puncher could have had anything to do with that slide! Yes, Roy was sure acting queer lately. As far as Teddy could see, there was no reason for immediate worry. Even if the rustlers were out of jail and determined on revenge, they might be forestalled by guarding the cattle well. True, his father had declared he thought the thieves might try other tactics. But, after all, what could they do? Suppose they had some real gunmen in their crowd? They would scarcely take to shooting a man in the back as he rode along.
The note had said the charge against the rustlers must not be pressed. Well, they were out of jail now, and, as Mr. Manley had said, what more did they want? Why should they bother to avenge themselves on men who had only protected their own cattle? It didn’t seem reasonable. Yet, Teddy thought, his fatherwasworried. Perhaps he knew more than he had told. Teddy had never known his father to show worry unless there was good reason for it. If he went to town carrying a gun, a thing he had not done for years except the time he was actually running down the horse thieves, he must anticipate trouble of some sort.
Teddy shrugged his shoulders and gave up the problem.
The two boys found Nell and Ethel showing Belle some new flowers that had lately come up. As Teddy and Roy approached the girls turned.
“Want soma nice, fresh hunyons?” Ethel called out.
“Nope,” Teddy returned, grinning. “Taka some strumberries, you got. What’s this, a garden party?”
“Tour of investigation,” Nell answered. “Oh, Roy, I want to show you these sunflowers! Aren’t they beautiful?”
“I’ll tell a maverick!” Roy answered, and, as Nell looked up, she saw that he was staring at her instead of at the sunflowers. She blushed, and bent quickly over to examine closely some wild roses.
The time passed pleasantly, and dinner was soon announced. Roy lingered at the door watching the sunset, which was especially brilliant to-night, until Teddy and Belle each took an arm and pulled him in.
“But just look at those colors!” he persisted. “Why, no artist could paint them! They look like—like flames from a forest fire.”
“Sure,” Teddy said, grinning at Ethel. “Or maybe like a ripe tomato smashed against a white wall. Come on in and eat, you old dreamer. I’m hungry. Then you can tell Nell how much the landslide looked like the volcano scene in the ‘Fall of Pompeii.’ ”
Roy made a friendly pass at his brother, who ducked, and the two entered and seated themselves at the table, which was decorated with flowers in honor of their visit, and it was not long before the beauty of sunsets was forgotten in the enjoyment of rare roast beef, carrots, and mashed potatoes.
CHAPTER X
At nine o’clock that evening the boys started for home. Roy had half-heartedly suggested leaving earlier, but he was overruled. So it was not until the moon was well above the horizon that the two young ranchers got away. Belle was to stay at the 8 X 8 for a few days, after which Roy and Teddy were to come for her.
Good-byes were said, and the boys started. As the car rolled toward home, Teddy, who was driving, sang softly under his breath. Roy was content to sit quietly and observe the splendor of the prairie night.
The white moonlight painted the ground with an almost phosphorescent glow. On either side of the road quakermasts reared their heads, like tall, gaunt giants. Now and then would come the cry of some animal in the distance, weirdly human. The hills ahead seemed to be crouched in attitudes of slumber.
Teddy squirmed in his seat.
“Itch,” he declared briefly, as Roy looked at him. “Flea, maybe.”
“Good heavens!” Roy groaned. “On a night like this, you talk about itches and fleas! Man! where is your appreciation?”
“My what? Oh, my appreciation. Got it sewed up in my pocket, where I won’t lose it. Say, Roy, you reckon that bunch that vamoosed from Hawley will really start something?”
“Hope not.” A frown crossed the boy’s face. “You know what a cattle war means in this country. Well, it seems to me those birds are laboring under the impression that they have something on us, and they think it’s all right to injure dad if that will square their account with the X Bar X. Doesn’t make any difference to them that they’re outlaws. They figure the country owes them a living, I guess, and they’ll take it by force if they can’t get it for nothing.”
There was silence for a few moments before Teddy said slowly:
“They’re hanging around this section, and it’s up to us to watch out. Forewarned is forearmed, you know. Golly! That moon is so bright I’ll bet I could run without any glims. Look—” He switched off the headlights for a moment. The road stretched before him like a silvered path. Each rut and depression in it was clearly defined, so that Teddy had no trouble in guiding the car.
“Better turn ’em on again,” Roy suggested, after a minute. “If the moon should slide under a cloud you’d be ditched in a second. I wonder—”
Just at that moment the very thing Roy had anticipated came to pass. The silvery glow was cut off as suddenly as a flashlight that is switched out. The wind, blowing at a fair rate of speed, had tossed a cloud between the prairie and the moon. Roy gave a yell.
“Jam on the brakes! Never mind the lights! Stop!”
Teddy obeyed, and with a screeching of brakebands the car came to a halt. Then Teddy threw the lights on once more. The front of the car was nearly off the road.
“Good thing the brakes held,” Teddy remarked, grinning.
“I’ll tell a maverick it is!” Roy retorted. “I suppose you just wanted to try ’em out, hey? After this you’d better leave the lights on, unless you want to haul this boiler out of a ditch.”
“Yes, sir!” Teddy answered, with mock humility. “Anything you say, sir. We strive to please. Say—” He stopped and lowered his voice. “Listen! You hear anything?” He reached forward and turned off the ignition switch, killing the motor.
For a moment both boys sat in silence. The face of the moon was still clouded, so that darkness surrounded them. Then, in the distance, the boys heard the sound of a horseman—clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-click—
“In a hurry,” Roy said wonderingly. “Seems to be coming this way, too. Well—”
He hitched his left shoulder a trifle and brought his pistol forward. Teddy did the same.
“Shall we wait?” Teddy asked, glancing back and striving to pierce the blackness.
Roy shook his head.
“Let’s not. If he wants us, he knows where to find us. Though the chances are it’s only one of the men from the 8 X 8. Anyway, it’s none of our business. Come along—step on it!”
Teddy started the motor again, and the car proceeded. As the moon lit the landscape with its beams once more, Roy turned and glanced back. But the road curved just here, and he could see no rider. Also, they could no longer hear the hoofbeats, which, if they were approaching, should have become louder.
“That’s something else to worry about,” Teddy said, with a grin. “Funny that we both took it for granted that whoever it was must be onourtrail! We seem to be getting sillier every day. At least I do. Like this afternoon, when we had that snake scare.”
“Forget it,” Roy advised. “You were no worse than I was. I heard a noise—and I would have sworn it was a side-winder. So we’re both in the same boat.”
As they neared home, both boys were wondering about the rider they had heard from afar. Neither would admit this, afraid of being accused of nervousness, but, nevertheless, when they came in sight of the corral of the X Bar X, they glanced cautiously about the place before riding in.
Teddy made a complete circle of the ranch yard, looking keenly about. Roy did not remark on this strange behavior. As they neared the entrance to the yard for the second time, Roy stretched and yawned.
“Let’s hit the hay,” he suggested, letting his arms drop to his sides.
“Suits me,” Teddy agreed. Then: “Kind of quiet here to-night; don’t you think so, Roy?”
“What do you expect, a brass band?” his brother grinned. “Golly, Teddy, you don’t mean to say it’s getting you, too?”
“Is what getting me?” the other countered, though he knew well enough what Roy meant. He guided the car toward the garage. “What do you mean, Roy?”
“That note,” his brother responded laconically. “And the horseman we heard—but didn’t see. And the puncher who rides leaning to the left in the saddle. And the whole blamed, silly business! How about it—am I talking straight or shall I elucidate?”
Teddy climbed stiffly out of the driver’s seat and walked toward the large doors of the auto shed. Halfway there he turned.
“I get you,” the boy said shortly. “Roy, you’re right. I’ve been thinking. These things that are happening, though they seem small and insignificant, all mean something. I’ll lay a bet on that.” He stopped and mused for a moment. “It’s hard to explain, but I feel as though some one or something were waiting around to sock me in the neck with a juicy tomato when my back is turned. And I don’t like it, by jinks! I don’t like it! Why don’t they start something? If the rustlers would show their hand, we’d know what we were up against. But this waiting, without knowing what for, is getting me sort of nervous, I don’t mind saying!” He strode forward, and flung one of the doors shut savagely.
Roy was closing the other, and until the garage was closed and locked he did not speak.
“You’re not the only one who feels that way,” he then said in a low voice. “I’ve been thinking those things for the past two or three days. And let me tell you something—dad has too. He may not say much, but he’s worried all the same. He hasn’t quite gotten over the time we had with that bunch of horse thieves only a little while ago, and he doesn’t want it to happen again. That’s why he wanted more men to ride herd. When he went to Eagles a few days ago, he toted a gun. You knew that?”
Teddy grunted affirmatively. The two boys walked toward the house.
“He didn’t have it on to-day, but maybe he took it off because he didn’t want to worry mother,” Roy went on. “Dad knows there are a few men in Eagles that wouldn’t cry if he disappeared in a sort of general way, like being shot up. And he’s not going to give them a gun, butt first—not if I know dad!”
Teddy nodded. He recalled the look on his father’s face the other day in the yard, as, with a savage gesture, he had thrown the mysterious note to the ground.
“Dad certainly seems changed,” Teddy said slowly. At the steps, leading to the porch of the house, the boys paused for a moment to take one last look around. From the corral came the noise of restless horses, moving about, rubbing against the bars, now and then neighing.
“Wonder what’s bothering them,” Roy said, more to himself than to Teddy. “I suppose it’s just one of the nights when the cattle want to be walking around instead of resting. I notice that happens mostly on nights when the moon is full. Maybe that has something to do with it. Jimminy, it sounds like a horse convention going on. There—that’s Star whinnying—I could tell him a mile off. I got a good notion to—”
“Come on, hit the hay,” Teddy said, with a laugh. “You want to dream about rustlers all night? You will, by jinks, if you don’t snap out of it. Star’s all right. You don’t have to sing him a lullaby every time he gets insomnia, you know. Let’s go. Put the hall light out, will you?”
The young ranchers ascended the stairs softly to their room. In little more than five minutes both were ready for bed. Roy switched the light off and crawled under the covers.
Out in the corral the horses still moved restlessly. The figure of a man on foot, pressed against one of the far posts so as to be out of sight from the house, seemed to annoy the ponies greatly.
CHAPTER XI
A few days after the boys had taken Belle to the 8 X 8, Nick Looker, seated on the side of his bunk, was showing the assemblage a new trick he had lately acquired from a book called “A Hundred Ways to Amuse Your Friends.”
About him were grouped several punchers of the X Bar X, and also Roy and Teddy. Nick held up his hand.
“Now the idea, gents, is this,” he intoned. “I’m goin’ to tear a dollar bill in ten pieces, then roll ’em up in this here handkerchief, and in a second—blooey! The dollar bill is whole an’ entire and in as excellent a condition as before the demonstration—that means trick, Gus. Now watch me closely.”
He reached in his pocket. The punchers leaned forward eagerly.
“What’s the matter, Nick—forget how to do it?” Pop asked after a moment.
“Can’t find a bill,” Nick answered shortly. “Thought sure I had one. Any of you birds got a dollar he’ll lend me for a minute?”
“What! To tear up?” Rad Sell demanded. “Not me! Think I’m crazy?”
“It’s only a trick, you galoot!” Nick exclaimed disgustedly. “You’ll get your bill back, don’t worry about that. Think I want to keep it?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Pop Burns said, in a matter-of-fact, calm voice. “I’ve known stranger things to happen.”
Teddy nudged Roy, and they both grinned. This might prove interesting.
“Well, come on, come on!” Nick shouted impatiently. “If you guys want to see the trick—an’ it’s a mighty good one, too—you got to get me a bill. Come on, fork over! Don’t be so tight! I won’t hurt your old bill.”
“Maybe none of ’em ain’t got one, Nick,” suggested Pop mildly. “Me, I ain’t.”
“Thought you said you was goin’ to rip it in ten pieces?” came from Nat Raymond, in a curious tone. “How about that, Nick?”
“Sufferin’ snakes, but you waddies are dumb! That’s part of the trick—then I make the pieces come together again and the bill is as good as new! Hoppin’ lizards, if I was as thick as you guys—”
“You have to have a one dollar bill?” Gus Tripp interrupted. “I got a ten here, but I sure hate to part with it. If anything should happen—”
“Nothin’ will happen,” Nick growled. “Sure, the ten is all right. Let’s have it, Gus. I’ll give it back in a minute.”
Slowly Gus passed the bill over. With a sudden motion he brought it to his lips, and sighed deeply.
“Come back to yore papa,” he murmured. “An’ don’t do no wanderin’ around! Nick, take care of my baby!”
“This’ll be good,” Teddy whispered to his brother. “Look at Pop! He’s sure interested.”
Nick nonchalantly took the proffered bill. He looked at it carefully. Then he took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it up.
“This, ladies an’—I mean gents, is the handkerchief. An’ here we have the bill, which I shall proceed to rip into ten pieces, each of equal length an’—an’ something. I wish for you to examine both.”
He passed the bill to Pop Burns and the cloth to Nat Raymond. “Look at ’em, boys, to see that there is no fake. Pop, note the serial numbers on to that there bill, so you will see that no substitution is to take place nowheres. Take yore time, gents, take yore time!”
“An’ this is the bill yore goin’ to rip?” Pop asked, turning it over in his hands.
“The every same bill.”
“Let’s see the handkerchief.”
Nat passed it over.
“An’ yore goin’ to put the pieces of the bill in this here cloth an’ make ’em come together again?”
“That’s just what I’m a-goin’ to do!”
Pop looked down at the bill again.
“An’ yore goin’ to rip this here bill in ten pieces, you say?”
“I am—each of equal length.”
“This bill right here, hey?”
“That same bill!”
“Well—”
Pop held the ten dollar bill up to the light of one of the windows. Then, suddenly, he tore it squarely across the middle, and, before any one could stop him, he tore it again, and again, until all that remained of Gus’s “baby” were ten green strips of paper, all of equal length. These Pop handed to Nick.
“There,” he said with satisfaction. “They’re all tore fer you. Let’s see you do the trick.” The veteran puncher’s eyes were alight with anticipation.
Nick looked dully at the pieces of what was once a certificate entitling the holder to ten dollars in gold at the United States Treasury. He seemed stunned. One of the strips fell from the palm of his hand and floated slowly to the floor. Then Nick awoke.
“You crazy old coot!” he yelled. “You tore Gus’s ten-spot all up! You ruined it! What was the idea, hey? What was the idea?”
“Ain’t that what you wanted done?” Pop asked innocently, a frown of perplexity coming over his face. “You said you were goin’ to tear it up, Nick—you know you did! Didn’t he, fellers? You all heard him—didn’t he say he was goin’ to rip it up?”
“Yea, butIhad to do it!” Nick raved. “Not you! Snakes, I can’t do nothin’ now! The bill’s ripped, Gus! She’s spoiled!”
“You mean to say you can’t do the trick?” Gus asked incredulously, staring at the remains of his bill. “Roll ’em in the handkerchief, Nick, an’ make ’em come together again! You got to! That’s all the jack I got in the world an’ pay-day a week off! Roll ’em up, Nick!”
“Jumpin’ lizards, what good’ll rollin’ ’em do?” demanded Nick, a look of disgust on his face. “Course I can’t do the trick now! Ask Pop to do it—maybe he knows how! He tore it up on you!”
“Me do it?” the veteran seemed mildly surprised. “Why, Nick, it’s yore trick! I can’t do no tricks! Go on, roll them pieces up an make ’em come out together. You can do it. Don’t give up so soon.”
“I tell you the trick is ruined!” Nick cried frantically. “I’m finished! I won’t have nothin’ more to do with it! I’m through!”
“Wait a second!” Gus stepped forward. “How about my ten-spot, Nick? Where’s that? I gave it to you. Ain’t you goin’ to roll it up and give it back to me? Golly, Nick, you can take a crack at it anyhow, can’t you? Maybe she’ll work. You never know till you try. Go ahead, Nick—roll ’em up! I sure need that tenner!”
Nick threw his arms about wildly.
“Yore all cookoo! I can’t do the trick now! Me, I had to rip the bill up, nobody else! That was part of the trick!”
“But what difference does it make who tore it?” Pop inquired anxiously. “She’s tore, ain’t she? That’s what you wanted. An’ here’s the handkerchief. Put the pieces in it, Nick, an’ say ‘blooey’, or whatever it is you say, to make ’em come together again. Then you can give the tenner back to Gus. You want to see the trick done, don’t you, Gus?”
“I sure do!” was the positive answer.
Nick looked from one to the other in despair. On the faces of all but Pop and Gus were wide grins. This was something they hadn’t counted on, and the boys were enjoying the situation to its full extent. Roy and Teddy were chuckling with glee.
Nick glanced down once more at the remnants of the bill. Slowly he shook his head.
“Guess it’s on me,” he said sadly. “Gus, I owe you ten. But by golly, it was Pop’s fault! He ought to pay you, by rights. But I’ll stick to my word. I’ll give you the tenner to-morrow, Gus.” He reached out to take the handkerchief from Pop. He was too mad to suggest, or even think of, pasting the parts of the bill together.
“So you can’t do it, hey?” the old rancher demanded.
“Nope! No can do. Here, take these for a souvenir, Pop. You deserve ’em.” And Nick laughed bitterly as he dropped the pieces of the bill into Pop’s hand.
For a moment the puncher stared at them.
“You was goin’ to roll ’em in this handkerchief an’ then they’d be O.K., wasn’t you?” he asked.
“Yea, Iwas,” Nick replied sardonically. “But the show’s closed.”
“That’s all you had to do—just roll ’em up?”
“That’s all,” and Nick laughed again, harshly.
“Well, that seems easy. If you could do it, don’t see why I can’t. Now let’s see. I put ’em in this way, an’ fold the cloth. Then what?”
Nick did not answer. He strolled toward the door.
“Hey, Nick! what do I do now?”
“Make soup out of ’em,” came the answer over Nick’s shoulder.
“Hey, wait, Nick! Maybe it’ll work! Stick around fer a second, will yuh? Maybe I can do it!”
“Yea, an’ maybe cows can fly, too,” Nick snorted. But he turned, nevertheless, with a desire to see Pop’s failure.
Carefully the old man rolled the handkerchief containing the pieces of the bill into a small ball. This he held in the palm of his hand for a moment.
“Now, she ought to work,” he stated doubtfully. With a flip of his wrist he sent the handkerchief flying open. From its folds fluttered not the torn pieces he had put in, but—a ten dollar bill, whole and entire!
“What!”
Nick’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. Amazement was written large on his face. He leaned forward, breathing hard.
“There she is!” Pop shouted triumphantly. “Told you it ’ud work! All it needed was somebody to do it! Gus, there’s yore tenner as good as new. Nick, yore a poluka. That’s as easy as pie! She came right out, as easy as easy!”
Nick turned his head slowly, looking at Pop with awe. He blinked rapidly. Then, without a word, he stumbled to the door and disappeared.
Gus bent down and picked up his bill, a wide grin on his face. He bowed to Pop.
“From one artist to another—greetings,” he snickered.
Pop returned the bow. Then, reaching for his back pocket, he drew out a thin volume. Silently he held it up, so that Roy and Teddy could read the name on it.
“Found it in Nick’s foot-locker,” he said simply. “Makes right interestin’ readin’.”
Teddy and Roy bent forward. Then, as they read the title, a roar of laughter burst from each. Long and loudly they laughed, for on the cover of the book were the words:
“A Hundred Ways to Amuse Your Friends.”