ON THE TRAIL
Yellin' kid, Old Billee and Snake Purdee were standing off the
attacks of more than double their number. This was the spectacle
that greeted Bud, Nort and Dick as they swept up the trail and
toward the sound and sight of the firing. For now they could see
the little puffs of smoke which preceded the discharges of the
guns. Light, traveling faster than sound, brought to the eyes of
the boys the puffs of burned gunpowder before the report echoed.
"This is the meaning of that night-signalling!" cried Nort, as he
galloped beside his cousin.
"Looks so," was the answer. "They're getting bold and desperate
to try to rustle our stock in the day time."
"You said it!" exclaimed Dick, as he looked to make sure he had a
good supply of cartridges.
As the boy ranchers drew nearer the scene of the conflict they
could observe that the herd, which their cowboys had been driving
in, was now in confusion. And no wonder, with more than half a
score of wildly-excited men riding among them, shouting and
firing heavy revolvers.
For distant shouts borne to the ears of our heroes told of the
excitement under way. As nearly as Bud, Nort and Dick could tell
from their vantage point, eight or ten Mexicans, Greasers or
other undesirable characters, had swept down from the north on
Old Billee, Snake and Yellin' Kid as the latter were hazing the
cattle along to the trail which led to the distant railroad
station. Naturally the cowboys of Happy Valley had turned on
their attackers and the fight resulted.
It was evidently the intention of the rustlers (for of their
character there was little doubt) to drive off as many of the
Diamond X Second stock as possible. And if they had to kill or
maim the watchers it meant little to them.
But, so far, none seemed to have been seriously hurt, for no
horses were running around with empty saddles, and no bodies were
prostrate on the ground. I think, if the truth were known, that
the first shooting on both sides was so wild that no one thought
to take accurate aim, which is difficult on the back of a rushing
cow pony, and with a heavy .45 gun.
It was, essentially, a running fight and Bud, Dick and Nort were
urging their ponies forward as rapidly as possible to get their
share of it. However, they were not destined to come to close
grips with the enemy. For as they drew nearer to the scene of
conflict, their guns out, and eager in their own hearts for
action, yelling encouragement to their comrades, the boy ranchers
saw their foes suddenly swing away.
This sudden giving up on the part of the rustlers was due either
to a signal from one of their number that the raid was a failure,
or else they saw reinforcements, in the persons of the boys, and
had no desire for a more nearly even battle.
At any rate, with wild yells, the rustlers pulled up their
ponies, and turned off down the trail, riding at break-neck
speed. Yellin' Kid and Snake, with shouts of defiance, swept
after them, and might have caught them except for what happened
to Old Billee. The veteran suddenly reeled in his saddle, and
would have fallen, except that, as he lagged behind his two
companions, Bud rushed up to him and held him in place.
"Are you hit, Billee?" Bud cried.
"Only just a scratch, but it seems like it took th' tucker out o'
me mighty suddin," gasped the old man. "Beckon I'd better get
down. I'd 'a' fallen if you hadn't rid up, Bud."
"That's what I thought when I saw you reel."
By the time Bud, with his cousins, was helping Old Billee to the
ground, Yellin' Kid and Snake turned and saw what had happened.
They then gave up all thoughts of pursuing the retreating
rustlers and came riding back, winded and excited, but none the
worse for their encounter with the rascals.
"Did they get you, Billee?" asked Snake, a gleam in his eyes that
portended no good to the perpetrators of the deed if he ever
caught them.
"Only a scratch," said the old cowboy, but rather faintly. He put
his hand to his side, and quickly opening his garments, as he sat
on the ground, his friends saw that the wound was more than that.
However, the bullet had glanced off the ribs, and aside from
having lost considerable blood, which accounted for his weakness,
Old Billee was little the worse off.
"I think we got one of 'em," announced Snake. "I saw him holdin'
pretty desprit like t' his saddle."
"What started it? Who were they?" asked Bud, as the last of the
raiders swept out of sight amid the rolling hills of the valley.
"Oh, some of Del Pinzo's gang, you can make sure of that," said
Yellin' Kid. "They just rid down on us an' started t' fire. We
saw what their game was all right, an' come back at 'em. They
didn't get one steer, Bud!" he added, proudly enough.
"That's good," said the boy rancher.
"But they did an awful lot of shootin'," added Snake. "I thought
sure we'd all be hit, but Old Billee was th' only one what got
it. I never heard so much Fourth of July since I was a kid."
"It was a lot of shooting, according to the results," spoke Bud,
as he watched Snake bandaging Billee's wound, for the cowboys
carried a primitive first-aid kit. "I wonder if that meant
anything?"
"What do you mean?" asked Nort.
But Bud did not answer.
Making sure that none of the cattle had been hit, and managing,
after rather strenuous work, in quieting the herd, the boy
ranchers and their friends started back toward camp, Old Billee
taking it as easily as possible, for his side was getting stiff
and painful.
While they were yet some distance away from the white tents that
corresponded to the usual ranch buildings, Bud and his companions
saw riding toward them a solitary figure.
"It's Buck Tooth," declared Dick.
"And if he doesn't bear evil tidings I miss my guess," murmured
Bud.
Evil tidings they were, in very truth. For as the Zuni came near
enough he was seen to be much excited. Drawing rein, he made a
sweeping, comprehensive gesture with one hand, toward the south
end of the valley, and exclaimed: "All gone!"
"What's all gone?" asked Bud, a great fear clutching at his
heart.
"Cattle!" answered the Indian. "Rustlers drive 'em all 'way,
while you shootin' off there!" and he pointed toward the scene of
the recent conflict.
For an instant Bud said nothing. Then, with trembling lips, which
alone betrayed his feeling, he remarked:
"That was it! They divided their gang and started a fake fight up
at one end, to draw us there, while they worked against our big
herd at the other end. It was a slick piece of work. No wonder
they shot more than they hit. They wanted to keep us away from
the south of the valley."
"I guess you've struck it, Bud," said Snake, grimly. "They sure
fooled us, an' I never smelled a rat! Whew!"
Bud, with lips that were firmer now, touched spurs to his pony
and hastened toward the tents and corral.
"What you aimin' to do?" called Yellin' Kid after him.
"I'm going to get on the trail of those rustlers," grimly
announced Bud Merkel, "and I'm not coming back until I land 'em!
Come on, fellows," he called to his cousins. "Let's pack up for a
long hike on the trail!"