THE WATCH TOWER
Quickly the galloping hoofbeats came to a pause. With a motion of
his foot, as he sat up amid his blanket and tarpaulin, Bud kicked
into the fire a stick of greasewood which flared up, revealing a
rider on a panting horse standing over the boy ranchers, all
three of whom were now awake.
"Four Eyes!" cried Bud, for the flaring fire had revealed that
cowboy. He had accepted his nickname in perfect grace.
"That's who," was the good-natured answer. "I saw the fire as I
was riding back, and I thought you'd be here."
"Where were you riding _to_?" asked Bud, pointedly, his
fingers releasing their grip on the .45 under the blanket. "I
thought you were with Old Billee."
"I was supposed to be," answered Four Eyes, "until my horse got
out of the corral and Billee said I could trail him. That's what
I was doing when I saw you behind the fire. I knew it was almost
burned out, so I didn't stop, or come back to explain."
"Yes, the fire didn't amount to much, though how it was started
is another question," said Bud. "You say your black horse got
out?"
"Yes, jumped the corral fence. He's a bad one at that."
"You didn't get him back," observed Nort, for he and Dick, as
well as Bud, had noticed that the new cow puncher bestrode one of
the extra ponies kept at the camp corral for use in relieving the
regular animals.
"No, he got clean away," and Henry Mellon did not seem to worry
much about it. "All I have to say," he went on, "is that some one
will get a mighty good mount, outside of his habit of jumping out
of corrals."
"You may get him back--if whoever picks him up knows where he
belongs," said Bud. For in that cow country it was still regarded
as a great crime to steal a horse, or keep one known to belong to
some one else.
"Oh, I'll prospect a bit farther for him tomorrow, maybe," said
Four Eyes. "I didn't want to ride too far this evening, so I
turned back. Did you get on any trail of the rustlers?" he asked,
for he had been aware of the object of the boys' ride.
"We switched off to come over to the fire," said Bud. "Did you
notice anything about it?"
"It was burning pretty good when I struck here, from over at your
camp," was the answer. "I saw that it wasn't likely to do much
damage, so I didn't ride back to tell Billee and the others."
"Did you see any one suspicious?" Bud went on, getting up and
putting more wood on the fire.
"No, I didn't," answered Four Eyes, quietly. "Of course anyone
would have had time to start the fire, and get well away before I
arrived on the scene--judging by the way it was burning," he
said. "Though I can't see what object anyone could have, and I'm
inclined to think a passing cow puncher--not one of your crowd
but some one else--may have flipped a cigarette butt into the
grass where it smouldered for some time."
"That may have happened," Bud admitted. "As for an object, if the
fire had stampeded the cattle it would have given some bunch of
Greasers or rustlers a chance to get away with a few steers."
"Oh, yes, of course," agreed Four Eyes. "Well, I didn't see
anybody. Guess I may as well turn in here. No use riding back to
the camp to-night. It'll soon be morning."
"That's right, turn in," invited Bud. His suspicions had
vanished.
"There's some cold coffee if you want it," added Nort.
"Guess I'll put it on to heat," said Henry Mellon. "It's a bit
chilly."
"What time is it?" asked Dick, as the cowboy stirred up the
embers and set the blackened coffee pot on over some stones that
had been made into a rude fireplace.
"Two o'clock," announced Four Eyes, with a glance at his watch.
The boy ranchers watched him idly as he made and drank the
coffee, munching some hard crackers he carried in one of his
pockets. Then, rolling up in their blankets, the quartette went
to sleep.
Morning came, in due course, without any untoward incidents
having occurred. The boys looked across the fire-swept area to
where, beyond it, many cattle could be observed grazing. There
was no further vestige of fire. The heavy dew had extinguished
the last, smouldering spark.
"Well, I'm going back to the camp," announced Four Byes, as they
got the simple breakfast. And how appetizing was that aroma of
sizzling bacon and strong coffee! "Want me to tell 'em anything
for you!" he asked Bud.
"Tell 'em about the fire," was the request. "And say we're going
on the trail of the rustlers. We'll be back to-day, though,
around night, for we haven't grub enough to carry us farther."
"What you going to do about your horse?" asked Dick.
"What can I do?" asked Henry Mellon, in turn. "I can't spend all
my time hunting him, when I've got to ride herd."
"We'll be on the lookout," Nort said.
"Hope you have luck," commented the strange cowboy, as he took
off his glasses and wiped them on his silk neckerchief. "I'm lost
without Cinder, though this pony isn't so bad," and he patted the
neck of the animal he was riding.
A little later the boy ranchers were taking a short cut across
the fire-blackened strip, to get on the trail of the men who had
driven off their cattle, while Four Eyes turned the head of his
pony toward camp.
"Well, it looks as if this was where the trail ended," announced
Bud, several hours later.
"Mighty funny, to come to an end so suddenly," commented Dick.
The three boys had reached one end of the many small valleys into
which the larger vale was divided. They had been following the
trail of the cattle that had been driven off--it was plain enough
until they reached a rocky and shale-covered defile between two
small hills. Then, for some reason or other, all "sign" came to
an abrupt end. There were no further marks of hoofs in the earth,
and none of the ordinary marks to indicate that cattle and horses
had been beyond a certain point.
"It's just as Snake said," observed Dick. "They must have driven
the animals here and then lifted them over the hill in an
aeroplane."
"They couldn't!" declared Nort.
"I know they couldn't. But how else do you account for it?" asked
his brother.
"They may have driven 'em through the pass, and then scattered
dirt and stones over the trail to hide it," suggested Bud.
"Let's look a little farther then," remarked Dick.
They did, but without discovering any clues. It was as though the
rustlers had driven the cattle to the bottom of a rocky and
bush-covered slope, and then as if the side of the hill had suddenly
opened, providing a way through.
"Like some old fairy yarn!" declared Bud. "This gets me!"
"If we could only have gotten on the trail of the rascals sooner,
Bud, we might have learned the secret," spoke Nort. "We ought to
keep better watch!"
"How could we?" asked Bud. "We shoot off on the trail, now, as
soon as we hear of anything."
"Yes, but we ought to get on the jump quicker," insisted his
cousin. "If we had an airship, for instance!" and he laughed at
the impracticability of his remark.
"You can see pretty nearly the whole of the valley from the top
of Snake Mountain," spoke Dick, when he and Bud had joined in the
laugh at Nort's airship idea. "If one of us could be up there--"
"We'd have to be there all the while!" interrupted Bud. "There's
no telling when the rustlers will come. Talk about being on the
watch! It's all right to say so, but how you going to work it?"
Dick suddenly uttered an exclamation.
"What's the matter?" his brother wanted to know. "See a snake?"
"No, but I've got the idea! A watch tower! Why not build one at
our camp--or up on the side of the hill back of the reservoir? We
could make it of logs--high enough to give us a good view. It
wouldn't be much of a trick to climb up in the watch tower three
or four times a day and survey the place. A watch tower is the
thing, Bud!"