FOUR EYES
For a moment Bud Merkel seemed unable to comprehend the bad news
thus brought to him by his cowboy helpers and friends. Nort and
Dick, also, were shocked by the intelligence. But Bud quickly
recovered. Perhaps it was because of his heritage of the west--the
ability to face danger and disaster with grim courage, part
of his father's stock in trade.
"Rustlers, eh?" repeated Bud, and his voice was steadier than
Yellin' Kid or Snake Purdee expected to find it. "Did they get
many?"
"Quite a bunch," answered Yellin' Bad. "We rounded up as many as
we could, and--"
"You mean you rounded up the _rustlers_?" asked Nort,
eagerly.
"No, what was left of the steers," answered Snake. "Guess we
wouldn't be back here alone--that is, just us two, if we'd had a
run-in with the rascals. We didn't see 'em, but we did find
traces of 'em. What are you going to do, Bud? Get on their
trail?"
"Let's talk it over, first," suggested the boy rancher, and he looked
at Nort and Dick, for they were partners with him on this venture of
trying to raise cattle in Happy Valley--which would have been
almost a desert save for the water that came through the strange
mountain tunnel.
"Tell us about it," urged Dick.
"Well, there isn't so much to tell," replied Yellin' Kid, his
voice a bit lower, now that there was serious business afoot.
"Snake an' I started there, to haze back th' steers as you; told
us, Bud. But when we'd rounded up th' herd, drivin' 'em in from
where a lot of 'em had strayed, we saw, right away, that th'
count was short. First we thought a bunch was hidin' out on us,
but we made a pretty good search an' then we got th' evidence."
"The evidence?" exclaimed Nort.
"Yes, we saw where the rustlers had been at work. They must 'a'
been there a day before we arrived. They probably cut out a good
bunch of cattle an' drove 'em off. But they didn't drive 'em
all."
"What makes you think so?" asked Bud. "Do you mean that we have a
few left?" and he laughed uneasily.
"Oh, there's more'n a _few_," said Snake. "But by evidence
Kid means we saw where they'd been blurrin' the brand--the
Diamond X brand!"
"Oh, they're doing that; are they?" asked Bud, sharply.
"Yes, we found th' ashes of two or three brandin' fires," went on
Yellin' Kid, "an' we picked up th' broken handle of a brandin'
iron. No marks on it, like there was on the other," he said,
referring to the time one of the irons from Double Z had been
found on the range of the boy ranchers. "But we brought it along,
anyhow," and he exhibited a broken and charred piece of wood.
"But we found more than that," he continued. "We found one steer
they'd killed, for beef likely, after they'd blurred th' brand.
There wasn't much left. What th' rustlers didn't take th'
buzzards did. But there was enough of th' hide left to show what
work they were up to--blurring th' brand."
This, as you have learned from the previous books of this series,
consists in burning some other mark over the legitimate brand on
cattle, so that the original one can not be made out. Then the
animal may be claimed by whoever has it. Blurring a brand, that
is, making it illegible, or changing one brand into another, are
two of the methods used by unscrupulous men to steal cattle.
The boy ranchers well understood what was meant by the news
brought them by the two cowboys. The next thing to decide on was
what course to pursue. "Did they leave any trail?" asked Bud.
"Well, we didn't stop t' hunt for it, as long as it wasn't a
plain one," Snake answered. "Likely we could 'a' picked it up.
But as long as there had been a raid we decided th' best thing t'
do was t' save th' rest of th' cattle, an' then come an' tell
you, Bud."
"How many cattle do you think they took?" asked Nort.
"Oh, I should say fifty," answered Yellin Kid, "includin' th' one
they killed for beef. Probably they blurred th' brands on th'
others an' drove 'em off--an' I shouldn't be a bit s'prised," he
went on, "but what we'd find most of your cattle, Bud, walkin'
around on Double Z."
"Hank Fisher; eh?" exclaimed Dick.
"Yes, an' that slick Mexican half-breed of his, Del Pinzo!"
declared Snake. "Anyhow, they got away with a bunch of your
steers, Bud, an' now what are we goin' t' do? Are we goin' t' sit
back an' let 'em laugh at us?"
"Not much!" declared the boy rancher. "But let's get this
straight. I wonder why they didn't drive off the whole herd while
they were at it?"
"Probably it was too big a contract for 'em," remarked Yellin'
Kid. "An' then, too, they might not 'a' had men enough, or th'
cattle may 'a' stampeded."
"An' maybe they was scared off," added Snake.
"Yes," agreed his partner on the ride from which they had just
returned, "that may have been so. Somethin' may have scared th'
rustlers. But if I get a chance at 'em, I'll throw a bigger scare
int' 'em!" and he significantly tapped the grim .45 at his hip.
"Any trace of which way they went?" asked Bud.
"There is--up to a certain point," admitted Snake.
"What do you mean?" the boy rancher asked.
"Well, I mean we could trace the cattle down the valley up to
that low place between the hills-a sort of pass. And then all
trace of 'em was lost."
"Lost!" repeated Nort.
"Yes, sir, lost!" declared Snake. "You couldn't see any more
signs of 'em than if they'd been lifted up in one of them flying
machines and histed up over the mountain! That's th' funny part
of this raid."
"There have been some other queer things around here," said Dick.
"There was that bottle last night."
"What was that?" asked Snake, quickly.
"There was some promiscuous shooting around here last night,"
said Bud. "I'll tell you about it as soon as we get the straight
of this rustler business. Maybe there's some connection. But I
wonder----"
He was interrupted by a voice singing, and the song was one of
the usual cowboy refrains, though the voice was rather better
than usual.
At first the boy ranchers thought it might be Old Billee Dobb
who, with Buck Tooth, had been out to a distant part of the
valley to see if he could get on the track of a mountain lion which
had been killing cattle. But a glance showed the approaching
singer, who was also a rider, to be a stranger. He sat astride a big,
black horse, much larger than the ordinary cow pony, and as he
approached the camp the sun glinted in curious fashion on his face.
"Four eyes!" exclaimed Snake, meaning, thereby, that the stranger
wore glasses. The rising sun had reflected on their lens. On came
"Four Eyes," singing as he advanced, until, when he came within
hailing distance, he drew rein, saluted the assembled company
with a half-military gesture and called out:
"Any chance of a job here?"