Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 18

This was intensely exciting work, in which Stella joined, as she was as skilled at it as any of the boys. Outside of the big herd, the cowboys were picking up the cut-outs and driving them to the branding pens, for many of them were acquired stock, and even many of the home yearlings had never been branded.

Then the cows with calves were cut out, so that the youngsters might get a touch of life by feeling the sting of the hot iron with the Crescent V brand on it.

The buyers were circulating in the herds, looking over the stock.

Several of the buyers had brought their own cow-punchers with them, and these went to work cutting out the selections of their employers.

The sky was thick with dust, and the air rang with the shouts of the cowboys and the lowing and bellowing of the cattle.

The rattle of countless hoofs on the hard soil added to the din, and the cattle weaving in and out ceaselessly, and the das.h.i.+ng riding of the cowboys as they swooped out of the ma.s.s occasionally to drive back an escaping steer, made a scene of excitement, movement, and noise never seen anywhere, except at a Western cattle round-up and cut-out.

Soon the work was pretty well in hand, and, leaving Bud Morgan as segundo, Ted went to the house to see the marshal.

He found that officer sitting on the veranda, quietly smoking a cigar, an interested witness of the proceedings.

"How are you, Mr. Easton?" said Ted, shaking hands with the marshal. "I must apologize for not coming sooner, but my hands were full."

"So I see," said the marshal cordially. "I was watching you work out there. Say, I believe I'd like to be a cow-puncher if I wasn't so old."

"It's a young man's job," said Ted, laughing; "and even at that it is about all a young fellow can stand at times. But this to-day is a mere picnic to what we are up against sometimes."

"Well, you seem to be right in it."

"Yes, I love my business. I wouldn't be anything in the world except a cow-puncher."

"But, remember, you are also a government officer."

"I never forget that. But, if it came to being compelled to quit one or the other of the occupations, I'd still be a cow-puncher, and let the marshals.h.i.+p go."

"That's the very thing I came to see about."

"You want my resignation?" asked Ted, his spirits falling to zero.

"By no means," laughed the marshal. "Not that, but to ask you to undertake a somewhat difficult job. It transpires that when the Soldier b.u.t.te bank was robbed the other night, a large amount of money belonging to the government was taken. I didn't know this until early this afternoon, when I received a telegram from Was.h.i.+ngton to go after the robbers and land them."

"That'll be somewhat of a job," said Ted, drawing his chair closer to the marshal, so that he couldn't be overheard by pa.s.sing people.

"I'm well aware of that, and that's the reason I come to you. You and your boys must undertake the duty of clearing up the mystery of the robbery, and, if possible, recovering the money."

"I have a very probable theory as to who the robbers are, but it will be entirely another matter to fasten it on them."

"I leave it all to you. I don't want to have anything to do with it. All I want are results."

"But I shall not have time to tackle it for a day or two. Unfortunately our fall round-up is in progress, and, as this is the time we sell the product of our business, we can't leave it until everything is cleared up."

"That's all right, Mr. Strong. But when you do get busy, don't come back home until you land the thieves."

CHAPTER X.

A VISITOR IN THE NIGHT.

A great deal of money changed hands that day. The stock buyers had their wallets loaded with cash when they came a-buying, for, when they had cut out the cattle they wanted, and the price was struck, they were prepared to drive them off at once.

The sales at the round-up had been large, and Ted and the boys sat up late that night, after those guests who had elected to remain over for the festivities of the next day were safely in bed, counting the money and going over the books.

"It has been a mighty good year for us, boys," said Ted, as he contemplated the total of their sales.

"Yes, and, best of all, it leaves us with all the old stock disposed of, and nothing but young and vigorous animals with which to begin building up again," said Kit, who had a great head for the cattle business and a faculty for seeing into the future.

"What aire we goin' ter do with all this yere mazuma?" asked Bud, looking over the stacks of fifties, twenties, tens, and fives that lay on the table around which they were sitting in the living room, and which was flanked by piles of gold and a few hundred-dollar bills.

"Can't get it into the bank until day after to-morrow," said Ted. "We'll be too busy to-morrow looking after our guests, and I don't suppose we'll be free until after the dance to-morrow night. Still, I'm not worrying about it. We know everybody here to-night, and I'll take care of it till we can ride over to Strongburg and bank it."

Just then the door blew open with a bang, and big Ben scurried in, bringing with him a blast of prairie wind, crisp and chill from the mountain, that scattered the greenbacks all over the room, and two or three of the fives were blown into the fire and incinerated before any one could rescue them.

"Close that door!" shouted Bud, grasping frantically at the money that was capering over the top of the table.

Ben closed the door with a slam that shook the house.

"'A fool and his money is soon parted,'" quoted Ben, when he saw the havoc wrought by the wind.

"You bet," said Kit "Three fives blew into the fireplace, and are no more. We'll just charge them to your account."

"Like dolly, you will!" said Ben.

"If it hadn't been for you they wouldn't be there. What's the reason we won't?"

"Because you won't. I didn't make the wind."

"No, but consarn ye, ye let it in, an' ye're an accessory before er after ther fact. I reckon both," said Bud.

"Let it go, boys," said Ted. "Pick up the bills, and we'll count and stack them again."

"Where have you been, anyway?" asked Kit, addressing Ben.

"Down beddin' my show for the night. They're about all in now. All except the music, which will be here in the morning," replied Ben. "I'm not at all stuck on myself, but--"

"Oh, no, you've got a very poor opinion of yourself, I guess," said Kit.

"But I want to say that I think I got the bunkie-doodelest show that ever paced the glimmering, gleaming, gloaming gra.s.s of Moon Valley."

"Listen to the hombre explode," said Bud. "He's tryin' ter be a feeble imitation o' a real showman. I'll bet he shows up ter-morrer like a ringmaster in a sucuss, with high, s.h.i.+ny boots an' a long whip an a tall, slick hat, an' crack his whip an' say: 'What will ther leetle lady hev next?'"

Ben blushed, for his ambitions in the show line, now that he had had a taste of it, had really been in that direction, only he wouldn't have had the boys know it for the world.