The Boy Ranchers on the Trail - LightNovelsOnl.com
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For a moment Bud Merkel seemed unable to comprehend the bad news thus brought to him by his cowboy helpers and friends. Nort and d.i.c.k, also, were shocked by the intelligence. But Bud quickly recovered. Perhaps it was because of his heritage of the west--the ability to face danger and disaster with grim courage, part of his father's stock in trade.
"Rustlers, eh?" repeated Bud, and his voice was steadier than Yellin' Kid or Snake Purdee expected to find it. "Did they get many?"
"Quite a bunch," answered Yellin' Bad. "We rounded up as many as we could, and--"
"You mean you rounded up the _rustlers_?" asked Nort, eagerly.
"No, what was left of the steers," answered Snake. "Guess we wouldn't be back here alone--that is, just us two, if we'd had a run-in with the rascals. We didn't see 'em, but we did find traces of 'em. What are you going to do, Bud? Get on their trail?"
"Let's talk it over, first," suggested the boy rancher, and he looked at Nort and d.i.c.k, for they were partners with him on this venture of trying to raise cattle in Happy Valley--which would have been almost a desert save for the water that came through the strange mountain tunnel.
"Tell us about it," urged d.i.c.k.
"Well, there isn't so much to tell," replied Yellin' Kid, his voice a bit lower, now that there was serious business afoot.
"Snake an' I started there, to haze back th' steers as you; told us, Bud. But when we'd rounded up th' herd, drivin' 'em in from where a lot of 'em had strayed, we saw, right away, that th'
count was short. First we thought a bunch was hidin' out on us, but we made a pretty good search an' then we got th' evidence."
"The evidence?" exclaimed Nort.
"Yes, we saw where the rustlers had been at work. They must 'a'
been there a day before we arrived. They probably cut out a good bunch of cattle an' drove 'em off. But they didn't drive 'em all."
"What makes you think so?" asked Bud. "Do you mean that we have a few left?" and he laughed uneasily.
"Oh, there's more'n a _few_," said Snake. "But by evidence Kid means we saw where they'd been blurrin' the brand--the Diamond X brand!"
"Oh, they're doing that; are they?" asked Bud, sharply.
"Yes, we found th' ashes of two or three brandin' fires," went on Yellin' Kid, "an' we picked up th' broken handle of a brandin'
iron. No marks on it, like there was on the other," he said, referring to the time one of the irons from Double Z had been found on the range of the boy ranchers. "But we brought it along, anyhow," and he exhibited a broken and charred piece of wood.
"But we found more than that," he continued. "We found one steer they'd killed, for beef likely, after they'd blurred th' brand.
There wasn't much left. What th' rustlers didn't take th'
buzzards did. But there was enough of th' hide left to show what work they were up to--blurring th' brand."
This, as you have learned from the previous books of this series, consists in burning some other mark over the legitimate brand on cattle, so that the original one can not be made out. Then the animal may be claimed by whoever has it. Blurring a brand, that is, making it illegible, or changing one brand into another, are two of the methods used by unscrupulous men to steal cattle.
The boy ranchers well understood what was meant by the news brought them by the two cowboys. The next thing to decide on was what course to pursue. "Did they leave any trail?" asked Bud.
"Well, we didn't stop t' hunt for it, as long as it wasn't a plain one," Snake answered. "Likely we could 'a' picked it up.
But as long as there had been a raid we decided th' best thing t'
do was t' save th' rest of th' cattle, an' then come an' tell you, Bud."
"How many cattle do you think they took?" asked Nort.
"Oh, I should say fifty," answered Yellin Kid, "includin' th' one they killed for beef. Probably they blurred th' brands on th'
others an' drove 'em off--an' I shouldn't be a bit s'prised," he went on, "but what we'd find most of your cattle, Bud, walkin'
around on Double Z."
"Hank Fisher; eh?" exclaimed d.i.c.k.
"Yes, an' that slick Mexican half-breed of his, Del Pinzo!"
declared Snake. "Anyhow, they got away with a bunch of your steers, Bud, an' now what are we goin' t' do? Are we goin' t' sit back an' let 'em laugh at us?"
"Not much!" declared the boy rancher. "But let's get this straight. I wonder why they didn't drive off the whole herd while they were at it?"
"Probably it was too big a contract for 'em," remarked Yellin'
Kid. "An' then, too, they might not 'a' had men enough, or th'
cattle may 'a' stampeded."
"An' maybe they was scared off," added Snake.
"Yes," agreed his partner on the ride from which they had just returned, "that may have been so. Somethin' may have scared th'
rustlers. But if I get a chance at 'em, I'll throw a bigger scare int' 'em!" and he significantly tapped the grim .45 at his hip.
"Any trace of which way they went?" asked Bud.
"There is--up to a certain point," admitted Snake.
"What do you mean?" the boy rancher asked.
"Well, I mean we could trace the cattle down the valley up to that low place between the hills-a sort of pa.s.s. And then all trace of 'em was lost."
"Lost!" repeated Nort.
"Yes, sir, lost!" declared Snake. "You couldn't see any more signs of 'em than if they'd been lifted up in one of them flying machines and histed up over the mountain! That's th' funny part of this raid."
"There have been some other queer things around here," said d.i.c.k.
"There was that bottle last night."
"What was that?" asked Snake, quickly.
"There was some promiscuous shooting around here last night,"
said Bud. "I'll tell you about it as soon as we get the straight of this rustler business. Maybe there's some connection. But I wonder----"
He was interrupted by a voice singing, and the song was one of the usual cowboy refrains, though the voice was rather better than usual.
At first the boy ranchers thought it might be Old Billee Dobb who, with Buck Tooth, had been out to a distant part of the valley to see if he could get on the track of a mountain lion which had been killing cattle. But a glance showed the approaching singer, who was also a rider, to be a stranger. He sat astride a big, black horse, much larger than the ordinary cow pony, and as he approached the camp the sun glinted in curious fas.h.i.+on on his face.
"Four eyes!" exclaimed Snake, meaning, thereby, that the stranger wore gla.s.ses. The rising sun had reflected on their lens. On came "Four Eyes," singing as he advanced, until, when he came within hailing distance, he drew rein, saluted the a.s.sembled company with a half-military gesture and called out:
"Any chance of a job here?"
CHAPTER VIII