The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 18

Billie went forward another pace, and reaching out his hand picked the whole affair up. How glad he was now that he had leaned his rifle against the outside wall of the house before venturing in through the window.

He turned to retrace his steps. Just then he thought he heard a suspicious little sound like a gasp behind him; and it seemed as though a cold hand gripped his heart.

If he had any doubts concerning what it signified they were dissipated even before he could think to twist his head around; for Uncle Fred suddenly called out in a shrill voice that was full of anxiety and excitement:

"Run for it, Billie; she's coming after you!"

Billie did not wait upon the order of his going. He seemed to be placed in connection with a galvanic battery, to judge by the way he sprang forward, thrust the belt into the outstretched hand of Mr. Comstock, and then took a header right through the open window.

CHAPTER XXI.

MR. THOMAS IS AMUSED.

With all his clumsiness Billie had always seemed to be a lucky fellow.

In times gone by his chums had often informed him that he must bear a charmed life; because when so stubbornly trying to break in that wild broncho Jupiter, the fat boy had taken many a header that threatened to do him serious injury; but had always "come up smiling" after each experience, and ready to try it again.

And apparently his good fortune still held good, for when he took that flying leap through the open window of the ranch house, he did not have the remotest idea where he would land, and yet he managed to strike in a soft place.

It had been a very narrow escape, though; for hardly had the fat boy pa.s.sed through the opening than it was occupied by the figure of Mrs.

Comstock, with both her hands eagerly outstretched, showing that she had antic.i.p.ated seizing hold of the intruder.

When he landed Billie purposely rolled over several times. He seemed to have a dreadful fear lest the Amazon follow him through the window; just as a pursuing boy might have done.

Having turned over completely several times he managed to sit up so as to take notice of the situation, and get his bearings.

The first thing he saw was the head of Mr. Thomas thrust around the end of the nearby bunk house; and it was strange that Billie just happened to notice how cautiously the pilgrim of the trail was peeping, as though he would not be seen for worlds; there was a look of intense interest on his thin face, too, as if he felt a personal interest in the wild flight of the lad.

Next Billie saw Uncle Fred. He was trying to buckle the recovered belt around his waist, and making a poor job of it, because his fingers were trembling with the excitement; and besides, he felt it necessary to keep one eye fastened on that window, in which the form of his muscular better-half could be seen outlined.

Billie also noted with solid satisfaction that the woman did not seem to be making any move in his direction. She must have recognized the fact that her expected prey had eluded her grasp, and was satisfied to let things go at that.

But she was waving her fist in his direction, Billie noted; and his heart beat with thanksgiving that he had been so fortunate as to avoid feeling the weight of that hand.

"What do you mean acrawling in through the back windows of this house, you fat cub?" she called out at him.

Perhaps Billie had long ago become so accustomed to having all manner of fun poked at him by his boy friends, on account of his ponderous size that he had ceased to get angry at any sort of nickname.

Still, that was "a new one on him," he afterwards declared, and it rather rankled to be called a "fat cub."

Billie was always polite, especially with the other s.e.x; and so he managed to scramble to his feet, rather awkwardly to be sure, for he had skinned his left knee in landing after that wild plunge; and trying to make a sort of half-way sort of bow, he said:

"I beg your pardon ma'm, but I was acting under orders from the boss. He wanted his gun so's to be ready to fight the rustlers if they came along, and asked me to get the same for him; so I clumb in through the window, because he said that was the shortest way around. And when you came so sudden-like on me, why, I just got rattled some, I s'pose, and took a jump through the window. But no damage was done 'cept that I knocked a piece of skin off my left knee 'bout as big as my hand, feels like. Sorry to have bothered you, ma'm, but I tried not to make any noise, sure I did."

"Yes, you crept in just like a thief, and I reckon that's what line you follow when you're to home," the angry woman flung at him, accompanying each word with a furious shake of her hand, which seemed disappointed not to have been able to bury itself among Billie's hair.

"It was all my fault, Josie," remarked Mr. Comstock just then, possibly ashamed to let the boy bear the brunt of her displeasure; "I wanted my belt very much; and you seemed to be having one of your headaches, so I thought I wouldn't pa.s.s in through your room and disturb you. I asked him to just crawl through the window and reach my belt, which he succeeded in doing. It's all right, Josie!"

"Oh! you think so, do you, Mr. Fred Comstock?" she cried shrilly, and with her blazing eyes turned toward her husband. "Shows what sort of a coward you are, sir, to employ a silly fool of a boy to pull your chestnuts out of the fire for you!"

"But sometimes the fire burns a fellow's fingers, you know, Josie; and I've learned long ago not to worry you when-you're not feeling well,"

the deposed manager of Bar-S Ranch went on to say, perhaps a little more boldly than he might have dared had the distance separating him from the lady been less.

As if afraid that he had been too rash in saying so much Uncle Fred turned, and hurried away, calling out as he started:

"Better come along, Billie; plenty to look after for all of us who are left behind. You did your work well, and I want to tell you I'm glad you didn't get-that is, your injuries are not worse than a skinned knee.

There are more dreadful things that can happen, my boy, take it from me."

This last he uttered in a low tone, and even at that something caused him to cast a glance of apprehension over his shoulder when speaking; but Mrs. Fred had vanished from the window.

As they turned the corner of the bunk-house they discovered the form of Thomas writhing on the ground.

"Here, what's ailing you, my friend?" demanded the late manager; "if you've been suddenly taken sick I'm sorry that my medicine case is in my desk; and just at present it's a physical impossibility for either Billie or myself to step in there to get it. Where do you feel bad?"

At that the pilgrim of the trail looked up, and they saw that he was grinning.

"'Tain't that I'm taken with the gripe, sir; not in the least," he explained. "I'm only tickled to death at the narrow escape our young friend had. I thought he was a goner when I heard you shout out that warning, and saw him still inside there; but he made a great plunge. My!

but the lady was provoked because he slipped out like a greased pig. It was a lucky escape for Broncho Billie, now, wasn't it, sir?"

He chuckled as he said this, and even winked at Uncle Fred in a queer way. The late manager of the ranch turned somewhat red in the face, and eyed the other a little suspiciously. Then he shook his head.

"Perhaps you know how peculiar some women are when they can't have everything they want, my friend," he remarked; "and how they're apt to carry on. It may be now that you've had experience in the years that are past and gone? Well, in that case you'll understand me when I remark that the least said the soonest mended. Forget what you chanced to see, and things will come easier for you here. Ladies have their peculiarities, and my wife never did like me tracking up her floors.

That may be why I had Billie here make use of the window; because I've often used it myself rather than go all the way around."

Mr. Thomas winked an eye again, and nodded his head in a knowing way, as if to admit that he might have pa.s.sed through similar experiences at some time in his past life.

Billie could not help thinking that the wanderer seemed to have been hugging himself while he rolled there on the ground, just as though he felt a personal satisfaction in the escape of the boy who had been one of those befriending him on the trail.

If this were really the cause of his hilarity it showed that Mr. Thomas was not without at least some degree of grat.i.tude because of the favors they had bestowed on him.

As the incident seemed closed now, and there were plenty of other things looming up in the near future that demanded attention, Billie cast it out of his mind. He only allowed it to crop up each time his wounded knee gave him a little twinge, as he limped around after Mr. Comstock.

The stockman was soon very busy. He seemed to act like a different man, now that he could feel the presence of his faithful gun at his side whenever he allowed his hand to drop that way.

Billie followed him to the corrals, which he inspected carefully, as though meaning to discover any weakness that might interfere with his plans. Every few minutes the ranchman would shade his eyes with his hand and look earnestly around in several directions. Billie understood that he was hoping to discover the first signs of the coming herds, which might be only in the shape of a cloud of dust along the horizon.

It was an anxious time, for a great deal depended on getting the stock in where the faithful drovers could guard it, until such time as the danger of a bold raid was past. Mr. Comstock had had so much trouble with the Walker crowd in the past that he would not put anything beyond them nowadays. Men become flushed with success, and even lose their accustomed shrewdness; and while it would seem to be a reckless thing for these rustlers to work in the open, still, acting under the belief that they had a friend at court in the shape of Comstock's wife, who would restrain him from taking any radical measures looking to resistance; and also knowing that half the force of Bar-S Ranch was virtually ready to side with the raiders, there could be no telling what would happen.

Billie, too, began to cast frequent looks along the distant horizon, in the hope of discovering the first signs that would indicate the coming of his chums, along with the cattle, and the other cow-punchers.

It was almost an hour after his little adventure along the flying machine order that Billie suddenly discovered what he sought.

"They're coming, Mr. Comstock!" he called, limping toward the ranchman, who was busily engaged doing some mending at a weak place in the corral, which was made partly of ropes, and the balance of heavy poles brought from the river bottom miles and miles away; "I can see dust in two places; yes, and when the wind picked up just now I believe I heard the bellowing of cows."

So the ranchman clapped his gla.s.ses to his eyes, and immediately corroborated what the boy had so confidently declared.