THE RODEO
The cars were old and their joints rusty, and the noise they made as
they rumbled along resembled an avalanche. The pistol shots, puncturing
the roar, sounded like the popping of corks.
“Try to stop us now!” Roy shouted gleefully. “Yow! Ride ’em, cowboy!
Out of my way!”
The rustlers had reached the top of the hill and were firing
desperately. One of them sought to leave his horse and catch the
last car, but his pony shied, and threw the man from his back, to go
tumbling down the steep embankment.
“Have a sleigh-ride!” Teddy called. “Tell us when you hit bottom!”
Bill Lefton tried to swing his pony and ride parallel with the moving
freight, but the road bed was too narrow, and his horse, with a neigh
of protest, refused to follow this rumbling Juggernaut, then whirled,
and almost on its haunches, started down the slope. The train picked
up speed rapidly, and amid a fusillade of ineffectual shots it rounded
a curve, bearing Teddy and Roy to safety.
The last glimpse the boys had of the rustlers was the sight of Peterson
waving his arms madly and shaking his fist--not at them, but at one of
his gang.
“Mob Jamisson having the law laid down to him,” Teddy chuckled.
“They’ll blame him for this, sure as shooting. Boy, we’ve saved the
cattle! They’ll never be able to drive ’em far enough to hide ’em
before we’re on their necks.” He drew a deep breath. “Yes, it was worth
it--it sure was worth it.”
They sat up now, and drew closer together. They had flung themselves
flat when the train began to move, one in the middle of the center
car--which, they afterwards discovered, was the key car--and the other
at the end. It was Teddy who had released the brake which really set
the train in motion.
The grade was not very steep at this point, and the speed at which the
cars were running was not high enough to be dangerous. Teddy sat for a
moment watching the scenery “roll by,” as he expressed it, and then he
grinned.
“I just happened to think,” he said, “that dad has Peterson’s deposit.
Maybe he’ll come and claim it--maybe not!”
“The only deposit he’ll get will be deposited in jail,” Roy said
laughingly. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for
them to be seated on top of a freight car, at two o’clock in the
morning, running downgrade toward the end of the line. Gone was
their weariness--their thirst. All they thought of was that they had
succeeded--the cattle were saved--a good night’s work had been well
done.
The train jolted and swung along. Teddy and Roy sat on the board which
runs along the top, the walking plank, arms about their knees, swaying
from side to side with the motion, happy, contented. They would soon
come to the end of the line, not far from Hawley. They could rout
the sheriff out of bed, organize a posse, and chase Peterson and his
crowd from here to the borders of the state--farther, if necessary.
The cattle would be safe until they rounded them up with the others,
to-morrow. Yes, it was a good night’s work.
The grade was leveling off now, and the train ran more slowly. It
reached a curve, on the right of which the ground dipped, so that they
had a clear view for miles.
“Teddy! Take a look!”
Far to the right the lights of a town glimmered.
“That’s Hawley! Let’s get off here. No telling how far this train will
run, and the end of the line is much farther from Hawley than this is.
It stops away off in some deserted hole, Pop said. Get busy with those
brakes. Hawley, Ha-a-a-aw-ley!” he cried, in the manner of a conductor
announcing a station. “All out for Hawley!”
They ran from one car to another, applying the hand brakes. When the
train had slackened speed sufficiently they climbed down the ladder and
jumped to the ground.
“Now we’ve got a nice little jaunt,” Roy said, peering toward Hawley.
“But it might be worse. So long, old Twentieth-century!” He waved his
hand as the train, barely moving, disappeared around a curve. “You sure
helped us out of a bad hole! Come on, Teddy--get those legs of yours
moving. _One_, two, three, four! _One_, two, three, four!”
They set out joyfully, and in an hour reached the town, tired, but
still happy. Hawley was a fair-sized place and they found a restaurant
on the main street open. There was a telephone within, and they called
the sheriff. At first he was angry at having his sleep disturbed, but
when the boys told them who they were, he declared eagerly that he’d be
right down. He was as good as his word. Not five minutes elapsed before
he entered the door of the restaurant, fully dressed, two guns hanging
from his belt.
The boys soon explained the situation to him, and then he, in his turn,
sat down at the ’phone and called many numbers. His orders were short
and to the point. His men were to arise, saddle their horses, and meet
him at the Alpha in six minutes--no longer. “Understand? All right!
’bye!”
When he had finished he turned to the boys.
“So you rode the empties down to here! Well, well! Boys, that’s as good
as a movie. Now listen. You ought to be pretty tired. I told my wife
that you’d be right over to the house, and to get a room ready. You
sleep--hear me? We’ll finish this job for you. We’ll let yore dad know
where you are right quick, so he won’t worry. Then we’ll take the trail
of them rustlers. Mob Jamisson with ’em, hey? Well, I’ll be plumb glad
to see him again, not sayin’ the same fer him. My house is the fifth
one down on this side of the street. Red brick. You can’t miss it. Just
ring the bell. Mary’s up, an’ waitin’ fer you. Here comes my gang.”
He hesitated as the sound of the arrival of several horses sounded
outside the door.
“I’ll go now. Don’t worry about yore dad. I’ll let him know first
thing. We can find his camp all right if it’s anywheres on the X Bar X.
Tell you a secret--I used to work fer that ranch when I was a kid. That
was when yore grandfather had it. Well, so long! Pete--” to the man
behind the counter--“if they’re hungry, you feed ’em an’ charge it to
me. So long, boys!”
Hungry? Weren’t they, though! They scarcely saw the sheriff burst
through the door nor heard the noise of his departure. They were intent
on a whole ham which hung in a glass-enclosed refrigerator.
“Could we--could we have some of that?” Roy asked, pointing.
“Ham! You betcha! Fried ham an’ eggs. Sliced tomatoes. Potatoes.
Coffee. Pie a-la-mode. O.K.?”
“I’ll tell a maverick it is!”
Then they sat down to the best meal they ever remembered eating. At
three o’clock in the morning, just these two, in the restaurant in
Hawley, they ate until they could eat no more. When they had finished,
the waiter looked at them critically.
“I’m thinkin’,” he said softly, “that they don’t need no bed to-night.
Maybe the sheriff’s house is only down a block, but they’ll never make
it, unless they walk in their sleep.”
He moved softly to one side and turned low the light. Quietly he
tiptoed to the door and closed it behind him. And Roy and Teddy,
their heads resting on their arms, feet tucked under them, slept the
remainder of that eventful night on a table in the restaurant in Hawley.
They awoke to find the sunlight streaming in on their faces and a
voice, miles off, calling:
“Hey! Come to! ’Phone for you! ’Phone!”
“What? Somebody wants us? What time is it? Gosh, this bed is hard!
Well, for the love of Pete--”
Teddy, gazing about him stupidly, found the waiter grinning down at
him. It took a full minute for realization to come to the boy, and
another minute to explain to Roy. Sleep had sunk them so deep that they
simply could not understand what had occurred. Finally, however, Pete
convinced them that they were really in Hawley, and, what was more
important, that Mr. Manley was on the ’phone.
“Dad!” Roy exclaimed, jumping. “I’ll take it, Teddy. Where’s that
’phone? Huh? Oh!” Almost next to his elbow, and he could scarcely see
it. He picked up the receiver.
“Hello, Dad! Sure! Fine! Right next to me. Yep, he’s all right too.
Sort of sleepy. We fell asleep on a restaurant table--stayed there all
night. Get up there, Teddy. What’s that, Dad? Say it again, will you?
You caught--” He turned to his brother, eyes shining with excitement.
“Teddy, they caught the rustlers! Every one of ’em! The sheriff found
our camp, and dad and the others went right out on the trail. Here,
Dad, tell Ted. He won’t believe me.”
Then Teddy:
“Hello, Dad! Is that straight? Got ’em all? And the cattle? Oh, boy!
What luck! Say, how about Flash and Star? Came home? You! That’s a
relief! How’s Star? That’s good.” Aside:
“He says Star wasn’t hurt much. Bullet just grazed him.” Into the
’phone again:
“Where’d you get the rustlers, Dad? Uh-huh! Tried to drive the cattle
away after all, did they? Didn’t think they were that stupid. Probably
figured we’d ride to the end of the line and wouldn’t be able to get
help before morning. Listen, Dad--did you get Mob Jamisson? Well, hold
him for me--he owes me a new hat! Yep. All right, Dad! Want me to tell
Roy anything!” A pause, and a grin stole over Teddy’s face. He looked
at his brother and winked. “Sure thing, Dad! Tell ’em we’ll see ’em
this afternoon! So long, Dad!”
The receiver clicked down. Pete, the waiter, was watching the two
brothers with an amused smile.
“Dad wanted me to tell you something,” Teddy said slowly.
“Well, what?”
“Oh, maybe you won’t be glad to hear it. I don’t know. Perhaps I’d
better wait till later. I don’t like to--”
“Tell me now, you Indian! What is it?”
“Well, he wants us to get home as soon as we can, because Nell and
Curly are there and they’re going to see us in the rodeo! So, hit the
trail, cowboy--hit the trail!”
* * * * *
A perfect fall day, with the bright sun laughing down on a scene of
vivid beauty. Flags flying in the fresh breeze. Bands playing. Girls,
in picture hats, gazing forward eagerly. Cow punchers, resplendent
in silver mounted belts, checkered shirts, and big woolly chaps,
swaggering proudly about. A crowd roaring its approval of a man in the
center of the arena astride a bucking, twisting bronco. The rodeo!
The governor of the state had a box directly in the center of the
grandstand. Next to his was the Manley box.
Within it sat Mr. and Mrs. Manley, with Belle Ada, Nell Willis, and
Ethel--no, Curly--Carew. And one other. In the rear, inconspicuous as
possible, a little man, tanned of face, with blue, kindly eyes, looked
out upon the scene. It was Mohammed Ben Ali Suliman--alias Professor
Sullivan, psychologist. He leaned forward and touched Mr. Manley on the
shoulder.
“Does--er--our boy ride soon?”
“Teddy, you mean? Yep. Next. Did you see Roy win that Pony Express
contest? Man, I’ve been with him all my life, and never knew he could
ride like that. First prize! Great, eh? Look--that man’s finished.
There he goes!”
The rider gave a shout and flew over the pony’s head. He was out of
the race, but he arose gamely and shook his fist in mock rage at the
horse that had unseated him, then walked, a trifle unsteadily, to the
side.
“Teddy rides now?” Mrs. Manley asked in a small voice.
“Sure, Mother! An’ don’t you worry! He’ll take that bronc under his
wing as easy as pie. Watch! Here he comes!”
A yell went up as another rider shot out from a corner, seated on a
bit of leaping horse-flesh. Roy, who stood leaning against the fence,
shouted:
“Stick with him, boy! Hang on! You! Atta baby! Look at him go--! Oh,
look at him go! Sweet daddy! You’re sure ridin’ now, Teddy! Don’t go to
leather! Yay! Ride ’im, cowboy!”
And Teddy did “ride ’im.” For every trick of the squirming pony, he
knew a better one. Up went his hat, and down on the bronco’s flank.
He was fanning him, and the crowd, quick to realize that here was no
ordinary rider, roared delightedly.
Excitement reigned in the Manley box.
“Oh, Mr. Manley, isn’t he _wonderful_!”
“Splendid! Teddy’s splendid!” Mrs. Manley forgot her momentary fears
and gave way to the occasion, cheering with the rest.
“Dad, he’s sticking--he’s sticking!” shouted Belle, wild with joy and
excitement.
Finally the pony gave up. Head lowered, breath coming in gasps, he
submitted to the guiding rein. Over to the judges’ stand the boy rode
him, as easily as though he had been a saddle horse for years. Teddy
had won.
Roy, unable to contain himself, jumped the fence, ran into the arena,
and, reaching up, grasped his brother’s hand. Those in the stand saw
the occurrence, and another yell went up. Brother greeting brother--two
expert riders, each a prize winner! The crowd went wild. Here was
romance, real Western life.
“Teddy, congrats!” Roy said. “You’re a rider, boy!”
“And how about you?” Teddy laughed, looking down at Roy. “The same
thing goes for you! You wait, and we’ll bring our cups over together.
Hold this bronc a second.”
He dismounted, and another puncher took the horse away. Those in the
Manley box were watching with eager eyes.
“I believe,” Professor Sullivan said slowly, “that riding like this
has its place among the arts. When I return to my college I shall
suggest that they add a Chair of Horsemanship to their curriculum.
My dear Mr. Manley, let me congratulate you. I shall leave it to our
two friends--” he smiled at Nell and Curly, who sat entranced, hands
tightly clasped--“to congratulate our boys. That was wonderful riding.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Mr. Manley chuckled, “that gets Teddy a first
prize. And Roy won the Pony Express contest. Not bad, hey, Barbara?”
He turned to Mrs. Manley. “What do you think of these boys of mine?
They save my cattle for me, get the sheriff after the rustlers, get
’em captured an’ put in jail, then come back an’ win two first prizes!
Well, mother, what about it? How about those two boys of mine?”
Mrs. Manley looked at her husband and smiled. Then she saw coming
toward them Roy and Teddy, each one carrying a silver cup. They strode
along, heads held high, the light of conquest shining in their eyes.
Two horses stood awaiting them--Star and Flash. They mounted, and rode
over to the Manley box. As they approached they held the cups out and
grinned.
“Yes, Bardwell,” Mrs. Manley said softly, “they’re fine boys, those
sons of yours. But you musn’t forget--” she smiled again--“I’m not to
be left out of this! They’re mine, too!”
THE END
WESTERN STORIES FOR BOYS
By JAMES CODY FERRIS
Each Volume Complete in Itself.
Thrilling tales of the great west, told primarily for boys but which
will be read by all who love mystery, rapid action, and adventures in
the great open spaces.
The cowboys of the X Bar X Ranch are real cowboys, on the job when
required, but full of fun and daring--a bunch any reader will be
delighted to know.
THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCH
THE X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYON
THE X BAR X BOYS ON WHIRLPOOL RIVER
THE X BAR X BOYS ON BIG BISON TRAIL
THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UP
THE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMP
THE X BAR X BOYS AT RUSTLER’S GAP
THE X BAR X BOYS AT GRIZZLY PASS
THE X BAR X BOYS LOST IN THE ROCKIES
THE X BAR X BOYS RIDING FOR LIFE
THE X BAR X BOYS IN SMOKY VALLEY
THE X BAR X BOYS AT COPPERHEAD GULCH
THE X BAR X BOYS BRANDING THE WILD HERD
THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE STRANGE RODEO
THE X BAR X BOYS WITH THE SECRET RANGERS
THE X BAR X BOYS HUNTING THE PRIZE MUSTANGS
_On the Trail of Clues and Criminals_
Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Frank and Joe Hardy are sons of a celebrated detective. Often the
boys help him in his investigations. In their spare hours and during
vacations they follow up clues “on their own hook.” These activities
lead them into many strange adventures and dangerous situations. Yet
their efforts are usually successful in tracking down criminals. These
stories are packed with action, adventure and mystery.
THE HARDY BOYS STORIES
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON
THE TOWER TREASURE
THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF
THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL
THE MISSING CHUMS
HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD
THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY
THE SECRET OF THE CAVES
THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND
THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY
WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT
WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED
FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW
THE MARK ON THE DOOR
THE HIDDEN HARBOR MYSTERY
A FIGURE IN HIDING
TED SCOTT FLYING STORIES
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON
Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.
You’ll like Ted Scott. He’s a daring young American whose feats of
flying thrill the whole world, but with it all he keeps a level head
on his shoulders. The whole flying series has been inspired by recent
aerial exploits and is dedicated to Lindbergh, Commander Byrd, Clarence
Chamberlin and other heroes of the skies.
OVER THE OCEAN TO PARIS
RESCUED IN THE CLOUDS
OVER THE ROCKIES WITH THE AIR MAIL
FIRST STOP HONOLULU
THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST FLYERS
SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE
ACROSS THE PACIFIC
THE LONE EAGLE OF THE BORDER
FLYING AGAINST TIME
OVER THE JUNGLE TRAILS
LOST AT THE SOUTH POLE
THROUGH THE AIR TO ALASKA
FLYING TO THE RESCUE
DANGER TRAILS OF THE SKY
FOLLOWING THE SUN SHADOW
BATTLING THE WIND
BRUSHING THE MOUNTAIN TOP
CASTAWAYS OF THE STRATOSPHERE
Spotlight Books for Boys
_From 12 to 16 Years_
MYSTERY HOUSE _R. J. Burrough_
Another Smiley Adams story combines mystery and sports, with adventure
aplenty in the deserted house on an island one dark and stormy night.
THE LONE RANGER _G. DuBois_
Mysterious, friend to all in trouble, this dauntless rider, ever
astride his magnificent horse, Silver, rides the Western range.
FLASH GORDON _Alex Raymond_
Flash, Dale Arden and Dr. Zarkov, the only earthlings on the planet
Mongo, save King Vultan’s people from destruction.
TAILSPIN TOMMY _Hal Forrest_
Tommy fills in for an ace stunt flier in a war movie.
THE G-MEN SMASH THE “PROFESSOR’S” GANG _Wm. Engle_
Bob and Denny, G-men, in a chase that leads them into the underworld.
SMILEY ADAMS _R. J. Burrough_
An exciting story about the disappearance of a football star between
halves.
Books for Boys by a Master of Fiction
The Mark Tidd Stories
By CLARENCE BUDINGTON KELLAND
=MARK TIDD=
An ingenious fat boy and his three friends meet danger and excitement
in solving the mystery of the strange footprint in their secret cave.
=MARK TIDD IN BUSINESS=
Mark and his three friends take Smalley’s Bazaar and make a success of
it, in spite of unfair competition from the villain of the story.
=MARK TIDD, EDITOR=
The resourceful fat boy runs a country newspaper. As editor, foreman of
the press room, circulation manager and business manager, he makes the
_Wicksville Trumpet_ a paying proposition.
=MARK TIDD, MANUFACTURER=
The boys take over an old mill fallen into disrepair and soon have it
showing a profit. How Mark outwits the unscrupulous representative of a
big power company makes an irresistibly funny book.
FOOTBALL AT ITS BEST
“Hot Off The Gridiron” Stories
UNDER THE GOAL POSTS
by EDDIE DOOLEY
A rousing story of college football by a great player.
By HAROLD M. SHERMAN
ONE MINUTE TO PLAY
There wasn’t room in Red Wade’s trunk for his football togs and his
textbooks too--so he left his textbooks at home!
TOUCHDOWN!
A thrilling, smashing, breath-taking football story--introducing the
“big three.”
BLOCK THAT KICK!
Tingling romance, breath-taking mystery. Climaxed by a championship
football game at the Yankee Stadium.
CRASHING THROUGH!
How a clever little quarterback kept his big rivals’ fighting spirit at
high pitch in order that his eleven might win a big game.
FIGHT ’EM, BIG THREE
Plenty of action on the gridiron and in other fields also. A story of
three youths, Stuffy, Pepper and Brick.
GOAL TO GO!
Shrimp and Tubby, the “David and Goliath” of the Merwin College eleven,
bring a great football crowd to its feet shouting like mad.
HOLD THAT LINE!
A story of the heart-breaking and nerve-trying experience one college
player underwent before success.
NUMBER 44
How Bun Ritter, former mascot, becomes as famous as the mighty Branson,
makes a story packed with football sensation!
BOOKS BY LEO EDWARDS
ILLUSTRATED. EVERY VOLUME COMPLETE IN ITSELF.
Hundreds of thousands of boys and girls have laughed until their sides
ached over the weird and wonderful adventures of Jerry Todd and Poppy
Ott and their friends. Mr. Edwards’ boy characters are real. They do
the things other boys like. Pirates! Mystery! Detectives! Adventure!
Ghosts! Buried Treasure! Achievement! Stories of boys making things,
doing things, going places--always on the jump and always having fun.
His stories are for boys and girls of all ages.
THE JERRY TODD BOOKS
JERRY TODD AND THE WHISPERING MUMMY
JERRY TODD AND THE ROSE-COLORED CAT
JERRY TODD AND THE OAK ISLAND TREASURE
JERRY TODD AND THE WALTZING HEN
JERRY TODD AND THE TALKING FROG
JERRY TODD AND THE PURRING EGG
JERRY TODD IN THE WHISPERING CAVE
JERRY TODD: PIRATE
JERRY TODD AND THE BOB-TAILED ELEPHANT
JERRY TODD: EDITOR-IN-GRIEF
JERRY TODD: CAVEMAN
JERRY TODD AND THE FLYING FLAPDOODLE
JERRY TODD AND THE BUFFALO BILL BATHTUB
JERRY TODD: UP THE LADDER CLUB
JERRY TODD’S POODLE PARLOR
THE POPPY OTT BOOKS
POPPY OTT AND THE STUTTERING PARROT
POPPY OTT’S SEVEN LEAGUE STILTS
POPPY OTT AND THE GALLOPING SNAIL
POPPY OTT’S PEDIGREED PICKLES
POPPY OTT AND THE FRECKLED GOLDFISH
POPPY OTT AND THE TITTERING TOTEM
POPPY OTT AND THE PRANCING PANCAKE
POPPY OTT HITS THE TRAIL
POPPY OTT & CO.: INFERIOR DECORATORS
POPPY OTT--THE MONKEY’S PAW
GROSSET & DUNLAP _Publishers_ NEW YORK
Transcriber’s Note:
Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Obvious printing errors, such as lines printed in the wrong
order and partially printed letters and punctuation, were corrected.
Final stops and close quote marks missing at the end of sentences were
added. Fifteen misspelled words were corrected.