DAVE MEETS LEN
Dave looked curiously at the man he had rescued. From him he glanced
toward the figure of the young bullying cowboy whom he suspected of having
been instrumental in causing the stampede.
"Do you know Len Molick?" asked Dave slowly, as he guided his horse along
the trail.
"No, but I want to know him," was the answer. "I have a letter to him, and
I understand that he is one of the influential cattle raisers in this
vicinity."
Dave breathed easier. It was evident a mistake had been made.
"I guess it's Len's father, Mr. Jason Molick you want to meet," Dave said.
"That's right. Jason is the name!" admitted Mr. Bellmore. "I heard you
mention the name Molick and I didn't pay much attention to the first part.
So there are two of them?"
"Yes, Len and his father,"
"Do you know them?"
"Oh, yes, every one around here knows them."
"You don't speak very enthusiastically," said Mr. Bellmore, with a strange
look at the boy. "Is it possible that some error has been made on the part
of those who gave me letters of introduction? Is not Mr. Molick
influential in these parts?"
"Oh, yes, that's all right," assented Dave, and still his voice had no
ring to it. "Mr. Molick is influential all right--too much so, at times."
"You don't seem to like him," said Mr. Bellmore. "I wish you would be
frank with me. I am a stranger in these parts, and I have to depend on
residents here for my information, and, in a large part, for my success. I
know nothing about the Molicks."
"Well, since you asked me to be frank," went on Dave, "I will be, and I'll
say you haven't missed much by not knowing the Molicks--especially Len.
I'm after him now, for I suspect him of having tried to do us a serious
injury."
"Is that so! That's too bad. If I had known that--"
"Oh, don't let me prejudice you against them," Dave went on. "Mr. Molick
may be able to do business with you in the way you want. I am not speaking
from the business end of it. Personally I don't like the Molicks," and
Dave mentioned the cattle stampede.
"Well, if he did that I should say he wasn't a person to be trusted," said
the Chicago man. "But still--"
"Of course. I'm not certain of it," Dave continued. "I'm going to find out
about the sawed posts, though. But see Mr. Molick yourself, and make up
your own mind about him."
"I will, but I shall be on my guard on account of what you have said. It
is well to know the character of the man one is dealing with. I'm afraid
though," he added as a spasm of pain crossed his face, "that I sha'n't be
able to do any active business for a while," and he glanced down at his
injured foot.
"We'll soon be at the ranch," Dave remarked. "The rest of the trail is
easy."
Dave was thinking of many things as his pony ambled on, followed by Mr.
Bellmore's horse. It was strange, the manner in which he had come to help
the injured man, and it was stranger still that the latter should be
seeking to do business with the Molicks of whom the members of the Bar U
ranch had no very high opinion.
"I was on my way to Mr. Molick's place, when I got off the trail to look
after that rock formation," resumed Mr. Bellmore after a pause. "Rocks
always interest me, for I am always looking to see what the possibilities
are for striking a supply of water."
"Why water?" asked Dave.
"Because I am an irrigation engineer," was the reply. "That is my
business. I have been sent out here by a concern, recently formed, called
the Rolling Valley Water Company. Our concern has acquired rights in the
valley of the Rolling River, and I have been sent out to see what the
chances are for getting the ranchmen and other land-owners interested."
"I thought irrigation schemes had only to do with farming," said Dave.
"No, irrigation takes in much more than that. Of course farmers need
water, and we hope to develop some big farms out here. But ranchmen also
need water for their cattle."
"Yes, that's true," said Dave. "My--my father was saying only the other
day, that he could do a lot more if we had a better water supply."
"Then he's one of the men I need to see!" exclaimed Mr. Bellmore. "Perhaps
he already has some rights in the water supply of this valley that we
could negotiate for.
"You see our idea is," he continued, "to get the whole water supply under
one head in a big company, of course giving those who sell us their
rights, a certain control. Then we intend to build a big dam to conserve
the water supply. As it is here now I imagine, from what I know of other
places, at one time you have too much water, and at another you don't have
enough."
"That's just it," Dave admitted. "It isn't even."
"Well, that's what we irrigation engineers are aiming to do--make the
water supply even the year around. I certainly must talk with your father.
Maybe, after all, it's a good thing I sprained my ankle, though it
certainly does hurt!" he exclaimed, with a sharp indrawing of his breath.
"Well, of course I'll be glad to have you see Mr. Carson--my father," and
again Dave rather hesitated and stumbled over the word. "But, as a matter
of fact, some of the rights he has in Rolling River are subject to some
agreement with Mr. Molick. I know my father doesn't like it, for it makes
him too dependent on this man, but he could do nothing else. He had to
have water for his stock."
"Of course," agreed Mr. Bellmore. "Well, perhaps we can get together and
form a company so he can have more water and will not have to worry about
it."
"I hope so," Dave said.
A little later they came within sight of the ranch buildings, which were
glowing in the rays of the setting sun.
"What a fine place!" exclaimed Mr. Bellmore.
"Yes, I like it," Dave made answer. Then a pang seemed to shoot through
him. What if he had to leave the place? He could not count on always
staying there, as he might have done had he been Mr. Carson's son. Even
though the ranchman might love Dave as one of his own blood, when Mr.
Carson died there would be other heirs very likely, who would step in and
claim the place. Dave was not legally adopted. He might inherit nothing.
He had always counted on taking up as his life work, the cattle business.
But now, since the disclosure had been made, this was, perhaps,
impossible. And He sighed again as he looked at the group of buildings set
down in a little valley, with Rolling River in the distance glistening in
the slanting rays of the setting sun. On all sides stretched the vast
prairies on which grazed the hundreds of cattle--not only from the Bar U
ranch, but from the Centre O, and others.
"Yes, that's our place," said Dave. For the present, at least, this man
need not know his secret, though he might find it out soon enough. "And I
guess you'll be glad of a chance to lie down; won't you?"
"Indeed I will," was the answer.
A moment later the two rode up toward the main ranch buildings. The
cowboys had come in from their day's labors, and were washing themselves
at their bunk houses, in readiness for supper. From the quarters of Hop
Loy, the Chinese cook, came a grateful odor.
"That certainly smells good!" exclaimed Mr. Bellmore.
The cowpunchers looked curiously at the drooping figure on the horse that
followed Dave. It needed but a glance from their sharp eyes to tell that
the man was hurt. Mr. Carson came out.
"Well, Dave," he began, "I was just wondering where you were. Are the
cattle all right?"
"They are now, Dad, but they weren't for a time. They got out of the
corral, but Pocus Pete and I got them back again. I'll tell you about that
later.
"Here's a gentleman who needs help. He's a Mr. Bellmore from Chicago
interested in irrigation. He was in the rock-grove, caught by the foot. I
got him out. You look after him, Dad. I've got to get some of the boys,
with fence material, and go back to relieve Pete. He's on guard there."
"Say! It takes you to tell it!" exclaimed Mr. Carson with a smile.
"Welcome to Bar U, Mr. Bellmore. I don't exactly understand all that boy
of mine has gotten off, but it's all right. We will look after you.
Sprained ankle; eh? Well, I know something about them. Come boys, one of
you help Mr. Bellmore down, and make him comfortable.
"You'll stop and get something to eat, Dave, won't you, before you go
back?"
"Yes, just a bite, Dad. We haven't much time."
A little later Mr. Bellmore was comfortably installed in the ranch house,
while Dave and two other cowboys, after a hasty meal, were on their way
back to relieve Pocus Pete, and repair the broken fence.
This work was soon under way. While Pocus Pete had been on guard a
cattleman, passing, had given him an important message for Mr. Carson.
"So you'd better ride back and tell him, Dave," Pete said, as he and the
other punchers began to work on the fence, a snack having been brought for
Pete's supper.
"But I want to stay and help you," objected Dave.
"You'll do better work by getting back with that message," the foreman
said, and once more Dave turned his horse's head toward Bar U ranch.
It was getting dusk now, but it was not so dark but that Dave could make
out, after he had ridden some distance, the figure of a horseman just
ahead of him.
"Len again!" he murmured. "I'm going to see what he has to say, and why
he's hanging around here. We may have to guard those cattle all night."
At a word Crow leaped forward in a gallop, and in another moment, though
Len made an effort to spur on ahead, Dave had ridden alongside of him.
"Trying to see how your trick worked?" asked Dave, with a sharp look at
his enemy.
"Are you speaking to me?" demanded Len.
"I certainly am."
"Well, I don't want to talk to a nobody!" was the retort.