Three Young Ranchmen Part 22

"I know that, Daddy," replied the young man. "I didn't come for the mail, exactly. My friend and I are bound for the railroad station."

"Goin' ter San Francisco?"

"Yes; we want to stop here to-night."

"Ye air welcome ter do thet," and Daddy Wampole gave Noel a friendly nod.

The young man was introduced and all three entered the ranch, one room of which did duty as a general store, barroom, and post office. Before anything else could be spoken of, Allen questioned Wampole concerning the letters which had been in the box for several weeks back, and the people who had called for them.

"I don't remember much about the letters, but I recerlect thet Cap'n Grady took most all ez came in," was the suggestive reply from the so-styled postmaster.

"So he took most of the letters, did he?" said Allen, slowly. "How many of them, on a rough guess?"

"Seven or eight."

"And you can't remember if any of them were addressed to me?"

"No, I don't recerlect thet, Allen, but hold on--do ye suspect the cap'n o' tamperin' with yer mail?"

"I don't believe he is above such an action," replied the young man, bluntly.

"Wall, neither do I, privately speakin'. I was goin' ter say," went on the ranch owner slowly, "when the cap'n got the letters he walked over there to the old place and tore 'em open. Maybe----"

There was no need for the man to go on. Allen had already left the apartment and was hurrying across the road to what had in former days been the only house in the section.

It was a rude affair, now half fallen into decay. Outside, under the overhanging logs of the roof, was situated a bench sometimes used by travelers as a resting place. Here many a yarn had been told, and many a "hoss deal" talked over and closed.

Straight to the bench went Allen, and in the fading light looked eagerly on all sides for bits of paper of any kind. He found a great number and gathered them all into his empty dinner pouch. When he was sure there were no more sc.r.a.ps in the vicinity he returned to the house.

"Well, what have you?" asked Noel Urner, with interest.

"I have nearly fifty sc.r.a.ps of letters," said Allen. "I must look them over at once."

A lamp was lit, and, spreading out the sc.r.a.ps on a large, flat board, Allen set to work to sort out the various pieces. It was tedious work and Noel Urner a.s.sisted him.

Suddenly the young ranchman uttered a low cry.

"Look! Here is part of a letter that was addressed to me," he said.

And he held up a sc.r.a.p which bore the words: "--you and Chet can meet me and Paul----"

"Is it in your uncle's handwriting?" questioned the young man from the east.

"Yes."

"Then it would seem as if some one had stolen your letter, certainly."

"That's just what was done!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Allen. "I wonder----" he stopped short.

"What do you wonder?"

"I wonder if Captain Grady had anything to do with Uncle Barnaby's disappearance."

"The cap'n air a slick one," put in Daddy Wampole. "I never liked him from the day I fust sot eyes onto him. An' seem' as how he's achin' ter git thet ranch from ye boys, why, it ain't surprisin' he took thet letter and would do more, if 'twas fer his own benefit."

"It won't be for his benefit if I find he is playing such an underhand game," rejoined Allen, grimly. The thought that Captain Grady had stolen his letter angered him thoroughly. "He fancies that we are only three boys, but he'll find out that even boys can do something when they are put to it."

"It's a pity you didn't find the rest of the letter," observed Noel Urner. "No doubt that letter was of great importance. It might be best to hunt up this Captain Grady and learn the truth from him before we push further for the railroad station."

"The trouble is the cap'n air hard to find," said Daddy Wampole. "He ain't on his ranch more 'n a quarter o' his time. Ye know he's as much interested in mines ez he is in cattle."

The mention of mines gave a new turn to Allen's thoughts. Had that communication from Uncle Barnaby contained any reference to the valuable claim over by the Black Rock River?

"If it did, then Captain Grady will rob Uncle Barnaby as sure as fate,"

thought the young ranchman, with an inward groan.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Allen Changes His Plans

A moment later a clatter of horse's hoofs on the road outside betokened another arrival. Catching up his gun, Daddy Wampole strode out to see who it was.

"Ike Watson! Wot brings ye here?" Allen heard him cry, and then ran out to greet the old hunter.

"Allen, by all the good fortunes o' the Rockies!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ike Watson.

"Jes' the boy I'm pinin' ter see."

"And I'm mighty glad to see you, too, Ike," returned the young ranchman.

"I want a bit of advice, and you are just the man to give it to me."

"Advice? I'm ready to give ye bushels o' it, if it will do ye the least bit o' good, lad. But wot are ye doin' here? Why ain't ye hum?"

"I came here on my way to the railroad station, I am bound for San Francisco to hunt up Uncle Barnaby."

"Gee whiz! Now thet's what I call fortunate! If I hadn't a cotched ye, ye would be goin' off on a wild goose chase, with no end to the trail."

"A wild goose chase? O, Ike, have you word from my uncle?"

"No, I ain't got no word from him, but I got word in a way thet two rascals didn't dream on."

"But what do you know?" questioned Allen impatiently.

"Not much, ter tell the truth, an' yet a good deal. It happened this mornin', when I wuz down to Casey's Fork. I wuz ridin' along the old B'ar Trail when along comes a couple o' the worst lookin' bad men ye ever seed. Sez one to tudder, 'If we can make him tell us whar the mine is, we will all become millionaires.' Then sez tudder, 'We'll make him speak. We didn't trap Barnaby Winthrop inter leavin' San Francisco fer nuthin'.' The fellers wuz on the bottom trail, while I wuz up on the rocks. I tried to git to 'em to make 'em tell me wot wuz the meanin' of it all, when they spied me comin' down, an' by the gra.s.shoppers o'

Kansas! ye ought ter hev seed 'em put an' scoot. They got out o' sight in a jiffy, an' I couldn't locate 'em, try my best. I hung around an hour, an' then I made up my mind ter ride over an' tell ye wot I hed heard."