Ted Strong in Montana Part 10

"I don't know, but I have several ideas."

"What are they?"

"There are two or three things to be considered. In the first place they have it in for the ranch on general principles. You know Fred Sturgis said in his letter that he and his boys had driven the gang away from the ranch. That is reason number one. Then we are strangers in this part of the country, and they have seen us and have us sized up for a lot of boys, and, therefore, easy marks for them. Again, we have a big bunch of cattle, which Whipple and his bunch think we will not be able to protect against them.

"They may have learned that we are deputy United States marshals. That is enough to condemn us in their eyes. They are all old and fugitive criminals, and if we knew them I think that we would find that they are all wanted in one or more of the States and Territories, and that the aggregate amount of rewards which have been offered for them, dead or alive, would amount to a neat sum. They do not need marshals in this part of the country. There may be other reasons why they will make war on us, which we will learn later, but the ones I have mentioned are sufficient for them to make themselves very troublesome."

"So you think it is war, eh?" said Stella.

"I do, and I think that you will be a s.h.i.+ning mark for them when they learn that you are here. For that reason I would warn you to be very careful where you go about the ranch, and especially ask you not to ride about alone, and to keep away from the mountains."

"Oh, dear, and just when I had planned to explore those mountains from one end to the other," said Stella, with a pout.

"Can't help it. You know what would happen if they should catch you and spirit you off as Shan Rhue did in the Wichita Mountains."

"Yes, I know, I'm a lot of trouble to you, Ted, but you know I don't mean to be."

"Of course I know it, but if you run into danger, and expose yourself to the attack of those who are avowedly our enemies, you run the chance of being caught, and then, of course, it is our duty to get you out of trouble."

"Well, I'll be good."

"The attempted killing of Follansbee was no accident," continued Ted.

"It was the work of an exceedingly shrewd man, who knows the moral effect of his strange and mysterious appearance."

"Ain't it a ghost?" asked Carl, who had become all swelled up at the thought that he had made a ghost run away from him.

"I should say not."

"Den vy shouldn't mine bullets haf killed him?"

"I'm sure I don't know. That is why I say that he is a remarkably clever man, and it is probably the cause of the power he wields that he is able to do such things. It wouldn't surprise me any if some day we learned that your visitor was none other than the renowned Whipple himself."

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Stella.

"What can we do? We wouldn't know a single member of the gang if we were to meet him. We don't know where they hang out, and if we did we know nothing about the Sweet Gra.s.s Mountains, and could not go to where they are. All we can do is to watch the ranch house and the cattle as a cat watches a mouse, and if anything more, such as the shooting of Follansbee, occurs, we will have to go on the warpath ourselves. But I don't want to do that. We are out here to winter feed our cattle, and not to fight."

"Sh.o.r.e enuff, but yer kin bet yer breeches I'm not goin' ter let no cave dweller or brush hider tromp onto my moccasins, an' turn ther other cheek ter be tromped on. Ther first feller o' that outfit I cotch sashay in' around me I'm goin' ter take a crack at him."

"Go as far as you like when it comes to an act of aggression on the part of one of them, but don't start anything, Bud, unless you can positively bring it to a successful end."

"I reckon I'm some of a fox myself. They ain't set no trap what I've put my paw inter yet."

Ted and Stella rode on to Kit's camp to see how Follansbee was getting on, and found him doing nicely, but Stella laughed at the bandages Bud had put on the wounded cow-puncher, and insisted on redressing the wound.

Stella was a master hand at bandaging, because she was deft of hand and was naturally sympathetic.

When she had finished with Follansbee, and had sewed his bandages so that he could not rub or drag them off, he said he felt a hundred per cent better already.

Then they proceeded toward the mountains, where the third camp, under the direction of Ben Tremont, was situated.

It was almost the dying of the day when they left Ben's camp. He had not heard of the attack on Follansbee, and Ted made it an occasion to warn Ben against the attacks of the Whipple gang, as he was in the most exposed place, being so near the mountains.

When they turned their ponies' noses toward the south again it was to ride through a part of the herd.

Ted noticed that the cattle were feeding well and that there was plenty of good, rich, well-cured gra.s.s, and that it was free of snow in big enough patches to give the cattle ample room to graze.

As they were riding along Stella drew rein.

"What's the matter with that steer over there, Ted?" she asked, pointing to a steer that was dragging one of its hind legs.

Ted looked at the steer in question, which was moving slowly forward.

"See, there's another," cried Stella. "Why, I can see a dozen of them all limping in the same manner."

"That's strange," said Ted. "I wouldn't think anything of it if only one steer had gone lame, but I can't understand a dozen."

They rode slowly toward the lame steers.

"Great guns," exclaimed Ted, bending low in his saddle to examine the steers closely.

"What is it?" asked Stella excitedly.

"This is terrible," said Ted. "If this keeps up we might as well shoot all the cattle and let them lie out here on the prairie the prey to the wolves. We will never get them back to Moon Valley."

Stella looked at him with an expression of consternation on her face.

"These cows and steers have been hamstrung," said Ted, with a tone of suppressed rage in his voice. "Any man who would do a trick like that ought to be shot down in his tracks like a mad dog."

"Hamstrung! I don't understand."

"Some inhuman brute has ridden up behind these crippled animals, and with a sharp knife has cut the tendons or leaders behind the hoofs, or, rather, in the ankles, laming them and preventing them from being able to follow a drive. Where would we be in the spring if any large portion of our beasts were so maimed?"

"What a brutal thing to do!" exclaimed Stella, in indignation.

"h.e.l.lo, what's that?"

Ted rose in his stirrups, standing and shading his eyes with his hand against the glare of the setting sun on the snow. With the other hand he was pointing off toward the east, where the cattle were milling uneasily.

"Something wrong over there," said Stella.

They rode slowly in that direction to see what was disturbing the cattle.

As they went, Ted was looking for other hamstrung beasts.

"By Jove! this is getting worse and more of it," he exclaimed. "See there! That steer has had the tendons of his leg cut to-day. The wound is fresh. It has hardly stopped bleeding. I wonder----"

But before he had finished the sentence he applied the quirt to his pony and was das.h.i.+ng through the herd, with Stella close behind.

He had seen something strange and out of the way in the milling herd, and while he thought he knew what it was he could hardly believe that it could be true.