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The Saddle Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 2

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"Don't reckon as how it's so," came the ready response. "In thet event, we'd feel a breath of fresh air; an' ye knows as how we don't. Stiddy boys, keep yer wits about ye! She's clost by, now!"

"I heard a growl!" admitted Bob.

"And there were whines too, from the half grown cubs," ventured Frank.

"Once we turn this bend just ahead, likely enough we'll be in the mess,"

Bob remarked.



"Range on both sides of me, boys," directed Hank, halting, so that they could overtake him; because he knew full well that the crisis of this bold invasion of the she-wolf's den was near at hand.

In this fas.h.i.+on, then, the three turned the rocky corner.

"I see the yellow eyes!" whispered Bob, beginning to bring his gun-stock nearer to his shoulder. "Say, there's a whole raft of 'em, Frank!"

"Sure," came the quick reply, close to his ear. "Hank said there was about five of the brood. Hold your fire, Bob. Pick out the mother wolf first."

"That's what I want to do; but how can I make sure?" demanded the Kentucky lad, trying his best to keep his hands from trembling with excitement.

He had sunk down upon one knee. This allowed him to rest his elbow on the knee that was in position, always a favorite att.i.tude with Bob when using a rifle.

"Take the eyes that are above all the rest, and which seem so much larger and fiercer. Are you on, Bob?" continued the other, who was also handling his gun with all the eagerness of a sportsman.

"Yes," came the firm reply.

"Then let her go!"

The last word was drowned in a terrific roar, for when a gun is fired in confined s.p.a.ce the din is tremendous. Even as he pulled the trigger Bob knew that luck was against him; for the animal had moved at a time when he could not delay the pressure of his finger.

He heard a second report close beside him. Frank had also fired, realizing what had occurred, and that in all probability the first bullet would only wound the savage beast, without putting an end to her activities.

The torch went sputtering to the floor of the cave, having been knocked from the hand of Hank when the wolf struck him heavily. He could be heard trying to rescue it before it went completely out, all the while letting off a volley of whoops and directions.

Fortunately Frank had kept his wits about him. And his rifle was still gripped firmly in his hands, he having instantly pumped a new cartridge into the chamber after firing. The half grown cubs showed an inclination to follow their mother in her headlong attack on the human invaders of the den; for the numerous gleaming pairs of eyes were undoubtedly advancing when Frank turned his gun loose on them.

The din was simply terrific. Bob was more concerned with the possibility of an attack from the ferocious mother wolf then anything else. He had lost track of her after that first furious rush, and crouching there, was trying the best he knew how to locate the creature again.

Meanwhile Old Hank had succeeded in picking up the torch, which, being held in an upright position, began to shed a fair amount of light once more.

Not seeing anything else at which he could fire, Bob now started in to a.s.sist his chum get rid of the ugly whelps that were advancing, growling, snarling, and in various other ways proving how they had inherited the fearless nature of the beast that had nursed them in that den.

Perhaps it was all one-sided, since the animals never had a chance to get in touch with the invaders. Neither of the boys ever felt very proud of the work; but in view of the tremendous amount of damage a pack of hungry wolves can do on a cattle ranch, or in a sheepfold, they had no scruples concerning the matter. Besides, every one along the Arizona border hated a wolf almost as badly as they did a cowardly coyote; for while the former may be bolder than the beast that slinks across the desert looking for carrion, its capacity for mischief is a good many times as great.

"I don't see any more eyes, Frank!" called out Bob, presently, as he tried to penetrate the cloud of powder-smoke that surrounded both of them.

"That's because we got 'em all, I reckon," replied his chum. "How about that, Hank?"

"Cleaned the hull brood out, son," replied the other, chuckling; "an' no mistake about it either."

"But where did the big one go to; has she escaped after all?" asked Bob, with a note of regret in his voice; for he thought the blame would be placed on him, for having made a poor shot when he had such a splendid chance to finish the animal.

"Oh! I wouldn't worry myself about her, Bob," chuckled Frank, who had already made a discovery; and as he spoke he pointed to a spot close by, where, huddled in a heap, lay the heavy body of the fiercest cattle thief known for years along the border.

"She was mortally hurted by the fust shot," said Hank, as they stood over the gaunt animal, and surveyed her proportions with almost a touch of awe; "but seemed like the critter had enough strength left t' make thet leap, as nigh knocked me flat. Then she jest keeled over, an' guv up the ghost. Arter this the young heifers kin stray away from their mother's sides, without bein' dragged off. Thar'll be a vote o' thanks sent ter ye, Bob, from every ranch inside of fifty mile, 'cause of what ye did when ye pulled trigger this day."

Hank, being an experienced worker, did not take very long to secure the pelt of the dead terror of the desert. Then they left the rocks, finding their horses just where they had left them.

All of the animals showed signs of alarm when they scented the skin of the wolf; and Domino in particular pranced and snorted at a great rate since his education had been neglected in this particular. So Hank, having the best trained steed in the bunch, insisted on carrying the pelt with him on their return trip to the ranch.

Ten miles, as the crow flies, and they would be at home; and with comparatively fresh steeds, that should not count for more than an hour's gallop.

Before they had gone three miles, however, Bob called the attention of his chum to a horseman who was galloping toward them. It was a cowboy, and he waved his broad-brimmed hat over his head as he came sweeping forward.

"Is he doing stunts; or does he want us?" asked Bob.

"It's Ted Conway," replied Frank, with a sudden look of anxiety; "one of the steadiest boys at the ranch; and he acts as if something had happened at home!"

CHAPTER III

THE FLOATING BOTTLE

Waving his hat after the extravagant manner of his kind, the cowboy swept constantly nearer the little party. Indeed, it was impossible for them to guess whether Ted Conway bore a message, or was simply delighted to see the son of his employer, and his chum.

Presently he reached the constantly advancing trio, and under the pull of the reins his pony reared upon its hind legs.

"What's wrong, Ted?" asked Frank, immediately.

"Wanted at the ranch, Frank," came the answer. "The boss has sent me out to look you up on the jump. Told me as how you started out on a gallop this way, an' I took chances. Reckon I was some lucky to strike you so easy."

"But what has happened, Ted?" insisted the boy, trying to read the bronzed face of the other, and get a hint as to whether his mission verged on the serious or not.

It was so very unusual for Colonel Haywood to send anyone out to find him, that Frank's suspicions were naturally aroused.

"Well, the Colonel had a little tumble with that game leg of his--same one that the steer fell on, and broke two years back, in the big round-up--" began the cowboy, when Frank interrupted him.

"Then he must have been seriously hurt this time, or he wouldn't send you out for me. Tell me the worst, Ted; you ought to realize that it's better for me to know it all in the start, than by degrees. Is my father dead?"

"No. Last I seen of the Colonel, he was a real live man; only he had his leg done up agin in splints; an' the ole doc. from the Arrowhead Ranch was thar, 'tending to him. No, it ain't on count of his leetle trouble with that leg that made him send me out huntin' for you, Frank."

"What then?" demanded the boy, curtly; but with a sigh of relief, for his father was very dear to him.

"Thar come a messenger to the ranch a while ago, an' somethin' he fetched along with him, 'peared to excite the boss right from the word go," Ted admitted.

"A messenger, Ted?" the boy echoed, wonderingly.

"Never seen him afore, an' think he kim from town," the new arrival went on to say. "Leastwise, he looked like a stray maverick, an' had a b'iled s.h.i.+rt, with a collar that I reckoned sure would choke him. Atween you an' me I tried to get him to chuck the same; but he only grinned, an' allowed he could stand it."

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