ROY’S KNIFE
As an encore to the heavy cracks of the guns came a voice--low, amused,
and dryly sarcastic:
“Reckon you’ll hang the ‘Welcome’ sign on your door for us, hey?”
Teddy and Roy swung quickly around. Facing them, guns out and still
smoking, were three men. One of them had a wart on his nose. The second
was shorter, and looked a great deal like his disfigured companion. The
other horseman, who had made the remark, was a lean grizzled vaquero,
whose mouth drooped at the corners, and whose eyes were mere slits in
his leathern skin.
“Why, you’re the Lefton brothers!” Teddy exclaimed. “How did you--”
“The same, at your service,” the taller one answered. “And this is Mob
Jamisson. You’ll have to figure out for yourself why they call him Mob.”
“Howdy,” Mob said curtly. “Seems like you boys were ready to furnish
them animals with a meal, hey?”
“We were,” Roy answered, speaking for the first time. A puzzled
frown creased his forehead. Somehow, these rescuers were sneeringly
contemptuous of the thing they had done, as though the two lives they
had saved scarcely mattered. But at all events they had prevented a
dangerous, if not fatal, issue, and Roy’s face cleared as he held out
his hand.
“We owe you plenty,” he said heartily. “My brother’s pony would never
have been able to make the top of this hill--he went lame. I’m afraid
to imagine what would have been the outcome of a scrap with those crazy
animals.”
Teddy, who was staring hard at the Lefton brothers, shoved his gun back
in the holster and likewise held out his hand, which was grasped by
each in turn, as Roy’s had been.
“We were ahead of them, with a fair chance of escape, when my bronc
stumbled in a hole,” the boy explained. “Not enough to throw me, but I
knew if I forced him he’d cave in. So we turned and decided to fight it
out.”
“Pretty sights you’d be if we hadn’t come along,” Mob Jamisson
declared. He glanced down at Teddy’s horse. “Left front, ain’t it?
Better get off an’ see if it’ll last you till you get to the--till you
get home.”
“We’re from the X Bar X,” Teddy said, watching the man closely.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Slightly,” Mob drawled. He rolled and lit a cigarette. “Well, the
excitement seems to be about over. Where’d you pick up them wolves,
anyhow? Didn’t know they ever traveled much in this country.”
“Neither did we,” Roy answered. “We saw one, and decided to get him,
and before we knew what was happening the whole pack was on top of us.
They ran us ragged.”
Jerry Lefton, the shorter of the two brothers, spoke for the first time.
“If you want to,” he said, “you can come over to our camp and rest your
bronc.”
“That’s nice of you,” Teddy answered. “But it’s getting pretty late.
Say, by the way, I thought we had a date with you fellows this evening
to talk over a cattle deal? We were hurrying home, trying to make it on
time--”
“Teddy, I think we’d better rest Flash a bit,” Roy interrupted hastily.
“Which way is your camp? If it isn’t too much trouble--”
“None at all,” Mob declared. “Guess you can pay for what you eat.”
Teddy and Roy stared at him in surprise, and Jerry Lefton made haste to
put in:
“He was just fooling. We’ll be glad to have you. Over this way ’bout a
mile. Guess your bronc can make that all right.”
“Sure,” Teddy answered. “He’s not hurt badly.” A question was trembling
on his lips, but, noticing Roy’s face, he refrained from asking it.
“Those wolves will wander away soon,” the boy substituted. “I don’t
reckon they’ll hang around here.”
“Not long,” Bill Lefton, he with the wart on his nose, added. “They
travel where there’s the most chance for food. Say, your range is near
here, isn’t it? Hope your cattle stay bunched. I pity the cow that
walks alone with that pack around.”
“They’ll bunch,” Teddy declared shortly. “We don’t aim to have any of
’em injured, or taken.”
Bill Lefton looked at him quickly, but Teddy’s head was turned away. He
seemed to be intent on some object down the gully.
The five riders swung about, and, led by Mob Jamisson, made their way
slowly along the steep side of the ravine. After a short journey they
turned sharp right, and ascended.
During the ride Teddy had an opportunity to study his companions.
The Lefton boys he had met several times before, and a more intimate
acquaintance had not increased his liking for them. He realized, of
course, that they had earned the gratitude of himself and Roy. But he
could not free his mind from a vague distrust of them.
This Mob Jamisson, now--Teddy had never seen before, but he had heard
of him. Among the cattle ranches his reputation was none too savory.
There were certain incidents of strange marking of cows, of selling
diseased stock, in which his name had figured. Nothing definite, but
in the West a rumor of that sort usually has some basis in fact. Teddy
wondered how the Lefton brothers had met him. Then he recalled that
they were new to this section, and, like as not, had run across him
accidently. It seemed well to give them the benefit of the doubt.
Whatever had been Roy’s motive in accepting the invitation to visit
the Lefton camp was not brought out as they rode along. The talk was
purely general--of weather conditions, of the possibility of the wolves
returning. All agreed that it would be a good thing to chase the beasts
out of that region as soon as possible. They were a constant menace to
man and cattle.
The conversation that followed continued until the camp was reached,
and as they sighted the three pup tents, darkness was fast approaching.
“We’ve been making this our headquarters for a while,” Jerry Lefton
explained, as he saw the look of surprise on the faces of Teddy and
Roy. “You see, Bill and I may locate here permanently, and we wanted
to get a look at the country.”
Even this, thought Roy, was scarcely a reason for staying out on
the prairie when much more comfortable accommodations could be had
at Eagles. But he kept his thoughts to himself and accepted the
explanation at its face value.
“Better let me look at yore bronc’s laig,” Mob Jamisson suggested. He
dismounted, as did the others, and raised Flash’s front foot. The horse
shied slightly, but when Teddy put a hand on his neck he stood quietly.
“She’s sprained, but not bad,” Mob pronounced. “Won’t hurt to ride him.
Fact is, it’ll keep it from gettin’ stiff.”
“That’s how I figured,” Teddy answered. “So I reckon we’d better be
getting along home. I guess we won’t have any more trouble with the
wolves.”
“Stay and have some grub with us,” Jerry said loudly. “You’ll miss your
supper anyhow, and there’s no sense ridin’ on an empty stomach. What
say?”
“I guess we’d better--” Teddy began, when Roy interrupted.
“Sure we’ll stay! I’m hungry, I don’t mind saying. If you like, we’ll
pay you for whatever we eat.”
“Certainly not!” Bill Lefton said angrily. “Mob was joking when he
said that. Weren’t you, Mob?”
“Um--suppose so,” Mob answered ungraciously. “Great little joker, me.
Sit down boys, an’ fill up.”
While Jerry started a fire, Mob and Bill “rustled” the food. When
twilight made its farewell bow, the bacon and beans were sizzling over
the flames. The boys had no fear that they were causing worry at home
by staying on the range longer than they had expected to. Early that
afternoon they had started riding fence, and they knew Mr. Manley would
realize that something had occurred to delay them. He was confident of
their ability to take care of themselves under all circumstances; they
had proved that, many times. And whatever fears Mrs. Manley had for
them she kept to herself. Never would she let them see that she worried
when they were unaccountably absent. Long ago she had determined
that the best way to bring up her sons was to make them independent,
self-reliant. She knew that continual expressions of worry would only
hinder their growth into what she wanted them to be--true men, sons of
the West. They never realized that she had spent many sleepless nights
wondering, praying for their safety when they were from home on a
mission of danger. She wished them to be brave, and she, herself, held
forth the shining example. What she was, her sons would be.
The meal at the Lefton camp was soon concluded. No mention was made
of buying or selling cattle, although Teddy several times suggested
that the round-up was soon to take place and that his father expected
several buyers from the East. Each time either Jerry or Bill Lefton
changed the subject rather hurriedly, and when Teddy and Roy arose to
start their journey home both realized that it was practically useless
to count on these brothers to take any of their cattle.
They remounted, and turned their broncos, homeward.
“Yore horse all right now?” Mob inquired, motioning with his head
toward Flash’s leg.
“Sure! O.K.,” Teddy replied. “He’ll step lively on the way to the
ranch. Thanks, again, for all you’ve done for us. If ever we get the
chance, we’ll repay you.”
“Don’t reckon you’ll get the chance,” Jerry answered, a bit gruffly.
“We’d do that for anybody. So long!”
“So long! Much obliged!”
The boys rode out of the circle of the firelight.
The three men were standing, watching them depart. Soon they were
swallowed up in the moonless night.
Silently the lads rode, for fully five minutes, and then Teddy said:
“Get what you went after, Roy?”
“Huh? What I--oh! Yep, I did. I found out one thing--they’re not cattle
buyers. It may have seemed foolish to hang around when we should have
started home, but I figured we might as well learn all we could about
the Lefton brothers. And I learned enough.”
“Yea?”
“I learned, for one thing, that they did not intend to go to the X Bar
X to-night to keep their appointment with dad. They’d rather drop in
unexpectedly, it seems.”
Another period of silence. Then:
“It was lucky they showed up when they did. We’ve got that to thank
them for,” said Teddy.
Roy nodded.
“Check! Well, if we get the chance, we’ll wipe the slate clean. I don’t
like to be in their debt. Something tells me we may have to put them on
the other side of the books soon.”
Teddy was about to question this enigmatical statement when Roy
suddenly uttered an exclamation.
“Hang the luck, my knife’s gone! I must have dropped it out of my
pocket when we were sitting around the fire. Snakes! I hate to lose
that. It was the one dad gave me for my birthday last year--silver
mounted, you know. Say, I’m going back for it. You wait here. Soon as
I get it I’ll shoot back. No use both going--and Flash has a sore leg.
You stick right by this bush. I won’t be a minute.”
“Wait! I might as well go along! Flash is all right. He’s--”
But Roy had started. Teddy shook his head and prepared to wait as he
had been told to do.
“Funny brother I got,” he murmured. “He can’t tell me he didn’t drop
that knife on purpose. He should have been a detective.” Then he
chuckled. “Wonder what sort of story he’ll have when he gets back?”