BOB "LEARNS HOW TO RIDE."
"I told Slats to bring the horses around in fifteen
minutes, so if you want any breakfast you'd better
get a hustle on."
The boys had just come from their room and as
it was only a little after six o'clock, they were
surprised to find Sue waiting for them. She was clad
in a neat riding habit and looked very much like a
handsome boy. She declared that she had had her
breakfast hours ago, and chided the boys for being
such sleepy heads. They finished the meal well
within the specified time and found her waiting for
them on the porch. At the same time Slats appeared
leading three horses.
"Where did that horse come from?" Sue asked
pointing to a large vicious-look roan.
"Jeb bought him along with three others yesterday,"
the man replied.
"Well, why in the name of common sense, didn't
you bring one that you knew was all right? What
do you know about that horse? He looks as though
he might be a killer."
"He needed exercise and I reckoned he'd be all
light, but, of course, if they're afraid of him I can
take him back and get Betsy. She's safe enough,
I reckon."
Something in the man's voice told Bob that he
was offering him a dare and that he would be thought
a coward if he refused it, so he said:
"Don't bother. I'll ride him."
"Not so you'd notice it," Sue said. Then, turning
to Slats, she ordered:
"You get White Foot and make it snappy."
Slats turned to obey but not before he gave Bob
a look which made him determined to ride the horse
at any cost.
"Please let me have him."
"You mean it?"
"Sure thing."
"All right, then. Your blood be on your own
head."
As Sue had said, the horse had a bad look about
the eyes and Bob knew horses well enough to realize
that he was probably in for a bad half-hour, but, like
most boys of spirit, he hated to take a dare.
"You be careful, now," Jack whispered as he
stepped to the side of the horse.
"You bet I will," he replied, then, turning to Slats,
was holding the horse by the bridle, he asked:
"What's his name?"
"Satan."
It seemed to Bob that there was a note of exultation
in his voice as he spoke the name but he thought
that, perhaps, it was only his imagination. Grasping
the pommel of the saddle he vaulted lightly to
the seat and grasped the reins.
Now, Bob was an excellent rider, but here he was
at a disadvantage owing to the fact that he had
always used the English saddle and this one was of
the Western type with a high horn in front. Then
the stirrup straps were all of two inches too long
and he had no time to adjust them for Slats let go
the bridle, as soon as he was in the seat. For an
instant Satan stood perfectly still as though trying
to make up his mind what to do first. Then he
turned as if on a pivot and with a suddenness which
all but unseated the boy.
"That horse has never had a saddle on before,"
Sue declared angrily.
"Yes, he has, too," Slats replied. "Grumpy rode
him last night."
He did not add that, in spite of Grumpy's experience
riding bad horses, he had been thrown three
times.
"Well, if he gets hurt you'll hear from me," Sue
threatened him.
Meantime, Satan, having failed in his first attempt
to unseat his rider, was trying other tricks. Bucking
and leaping high in the air and coming down
stiff-legged, having failed to accomplish his purpose,
he finally succeeded in getting the bit between his
teeth and started for the corral.
"Gee, but he can ride," Sue cried clapping her
hands.
"If those stirrups were the right length he'd be
all right," Jack said. "But as they are they're not
much use to him."
"He shore is some rider," Slats acknowledged
generously.
Bob, realizing that he must get control, in a
measure at least, before the corral was reached, was
tugging at the reins with all his strength and
succeeded when only a few feet from the fence. Then,
Satan stopped with a jolt which nearly threw him
over the pommel. Maddened at this last failure,
Satan next tried standing on his hind legs. Up he
rose until he was standing nearly vertical. Bob
leaned as far forward as possible, sorely tempted to
grab hold of the horn of the saddle, but he had read
that "pulling leather" was as good as acknowledging
defeat, so he kept his hand away and clung to the
reins.
"He's going over backwards," Sue gasped.
She was right. Satan, whether by intention or
otherwise, lost his balance and came down with a
crash on his back. But Bob had thrown himself
from the saddle in time to escape being caught and,
as the horse scrambled to his feet, he was again in
the saddle before he had a chance to bolt.
"All ready for the next one," he cried as he dug
his spurs into Satan's ribs.
It was the first time he had used the spurs and, for
an instant, the horse seemed too much surprised to
move.
"Go on, start something," Bob shouted just as
Satan began to buck again.
Up and down he went and for several minutes
Bob had all he could manage to keep his seat, but
he stuck to it and finally the horse, now breathing
heavily, stopped bucking and stood still.
"Next," Bob tried digging in the spurs again.
This time Satan again got the bit between his
teeth and started for the open prairie. Bob did not
try to free the bit this time but let him run.
"He's going to win out sure as shooting," Sue
cried, again clapping her hands.
"He's a plucky kid, all right," Spike, who had
joined them, declared.
"And some rider," Fats agreed. "I shore never
saw anything pruttier than the way he sidestepped
him when he went over back."
It was nearly an hour later when Bob returned
riding a thoroughly subdued horse. Out on the
broad prairie they had fought the last of the battle
and finally, covered with sweat and with sides
heaving as he painfully expelled the breath from his
nostrils. Satan had realized that he had found his
master. After that Bob had dismounted and, standing
at his head, had talked soothingly the while he
stroked the beautifully shaped head.
"Now, then, old boy, you and I are going to be
chums," he told him as he gave him a lump of sugar
which he had slipped into his pocket that morning.
"And there'll be no more spur work," he added.
Although beaten Satan was not yet entirely ready
to acknowledge full allegiance to his new master,
but Bob continued patiently to talk and little by
little the trembling lessened and at the end of fifteen
minutes after he had dismounted, Satan was nosing
his shoulder in complete surrender. Then Bob rode
him slowly back to the house.
"You did it! You did it!" Sue cried as he came
within speaking distance. "Oh, it was wonderful
and now he'll always love you."
"I reckon we'll get along all right now," Bob said
modestly as he slipped to the ground. "And isn't
lie a beauty? And run, why that horse can almost
fly."
"Well, son, you did a good job and he's your
personal property as long as you stay here," Jeb,
who had come from the barn as Bob rode up, declared.
"Thank you, sir. I wouldn't ask anything better,"
Bob assured him.
A week passed. Every day the boys had taken
long rides with Sue and sometimes her father had
accompanied them. Satan had proved all that Bob
hoped and was devoted to his master. Jack had
been allotted a splendid mare named Midnight, as
she was as black as coal, and almost as fleet as Satan.
The cowboys on the ranch were gradually thawing
out, as Sue called it, having learned that the boys
were not at all "stuck up" as they had expected.
Bob, especially, they had accepted almost as one of
themselves, his horsemanship having paved the way
to their hearts. Slim had even acknowledged that
"mebby that rattler wasn't more'n about twenty feet
long" and Slats had even gone so far as to confess
that giving him Satan to ride had been a put-up-job
on the part of the whole gang.
"But you rid him, dog on my boots if yer didn't,
an' it was a job as I would'd hated ter tackle," he
grinned.
Sue was a fearless rider and many a race had they
had, but Satan was too swift for the other horses,
although both ran him a close second.
"I believe that horse of yours can outrun anything
on four legs," Jack said at the close of a long
race as Bob waited for them to catch up with him.
"Shouldn't wonder if you're right," he agreed.
They had been at the ranch eight days and had
begun to feel themselves a part of it when Jeb,
returning from a trip to Cold Springs, entered the
dining room just as they were sitting down to supper.
From the look on his face Sue knew at once that
something was worrying him.
"What's the matter, Dad?" she asked.
"Who said anything was the matter?" Jeb smiled.
"Your face did. Come out with it. You know
you can't fool me."
"Don't I, though?" he smiled. "Well, it's the
Hains gang again."
"Red Hains?"
"Yes."
"But I thought he had left the country."
"So did I, but if he did it seems that he's back
again. I met Bob Fisk over at the Springs and
he said that he lost most a hundred head day before
yesterday. Fisk owns the ranch next to us, just over
the hills to the right," he explained to the boys.
"But how did he know that it was Hains?" Sue
asked.
"Well, of course, he couldn't swear to it but he
and his gang were seen about a week ago just over
the border and they were heading this way. So it
looks mighty like he was on the rustle again." Then,
turning to the boys, he continued: "About three
years ago a fellow by the name of John Hains, but
better known as Red Hains, organized a gang of
cattle thieves and terrorized the country all about
here. Posse after posse was organized to catch them
but with no success. Several times we thought we
had them, but every time they slipped through our
fingers. They were a ruthless gang and did not
hesitate at murder and more than a dozen men lost
their lives hunting them, to say nothing of the
thousands of head of cattle which they stole. For nearly
two years they were active about here then, suddenly
they disappeared and not a thing has been heard of
them till the other day."
"Did you lose many?" Jack asked.
"Over a thousand head altogether and got off
better than most of the other ranches."
"How far away is Fisk's ranch?" Bob asked.
"About twenty miles to the house, and about half
that to where his land joins ours."
"And you think he may come here?"
"As likely here as anywhere else," Jeb said soberly.
"But how does he get away with that sort of
thing?" Jack asked. "I mean, what does he do with
all the cattle he steals?"
"Well, that's what more than one man around
here would like to know," Jeb replied. "But he
doubtless had a place somewhere up in the hills where
he drove them. Then he would change the brands,
blot them, we call it, and as soon as the new brands
were healed, he probably would drive them over the
line into Mexico and sell them. Many a week have
I spent along with others trying to find his hiding
place, but, although we combed the territory with a
fine toothed comb, so to speak, we never found it
Some of the old timers around here believe that he's
in league with the devil and hanged if it didn't look
very much like it sometimes."
"Did you ever see this Hains?" Bob asked.
"Once. I met him face to face on the trail up in
the hills. I knew him right away from the descriptions
I had heard of him. He's a big man, well over
six feet and must weigh all of two hundred and fifty
pounds. But his most distinguishing feature is his
bright red hair which he wears long after the fashion
of the old Indian scouts."
"And what happened?" Bob asked as the other
paused.
"Well, as luck would have it, I had my gun in my
hand at the time and when I saw him reach for his
I knew that it was one or the other of us, so I fired
point blank and him not more than ten feet away.
Then the next thing I knew I didn't know anything.
They found me several hours later lying in the trail
and after considerable fussing finally brought me
round. Seems that his bullet has creased my
forehead and, seeing me drop from my horse, he had
ridden off supposing that he had killed me. You
can see the scar now," he added, pushing the hair
back from his forehead. "But what gets me is how
I could have missed him at only ten feet and I'm
considered a fair shot around here."
"Fair shot! He's won the championship eight
years running. That's how fair a shot he is," Sue
told them proudly.
"Was it possible that your gun missed fire?" Jack
asked.
"Not a chance. I had filled the cylinder only a
short time before I met him and afterward I found
that one shot had been fired and, besides, I
remembered hearing the report. No, I just missed him.
It must have been one of those peculiar things which
happen once in a while and which you can't explain.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand
I would have had him, but the one time I
missed."
"Is Hains a good shot?" Jack asked.
"Hains is a streak of lightning with a gun when
it comes to the draw and he has a reputation of
being a first rate shot. If my gun hadn't been in
my hand at the time I wouldn't have stood a chance,
as he could beat me to the draw and not half try.
I see, you're wondering how he came to miss me or
rather to only crease me. Well, I thought a whole
lot about that and I can figure out two guesses. One
is that he did just what he meant to do and the
other is that my shot either wounded him or came
near enough to throw his aim off."
"And which guess do you favor?" Bob asked.
"Well, of course, I kind of like to think that I
didn't miss him altogether, but I don't know.
Sometimes I lean one way and sometimes the other."
"How large a gang does he have?" Bob asked.
"I don't know how many he's got now, but he
used to have six or seven."
The conversation then turned to other things and
nothing more was said about the cattle rustlers until
supper was finished. Then, as he pushed back his
chair, Jeb said:
"You folks better stick pretty close to the ranch
for a few days at least till we see how things turn
out. They may be hanging around or it may have
been only a flying visit, but it's best to play it safe."
"Who's afraid?" Sue taunted.
"I am," her father replied soberly and the smile
died from her face.
"You needn't be on my account," she said quickly.
"I'll be careful."
During the evening Bob and Jack were conscious
that the superintendent was worried, although it
was evident that he was trying to conceal it. But
he was uneasy, going out of the house and coming
back at short intervals.
"Poor Dad, he worries more about those cows
than anything else in the world," Sue said a little
before nine o'clock.
"Do you suppose there's any danger?" Jack asked.
"I expect so. Dad doesn't get all worked up for
nothing."
But the night passed and nothing happened. Bob
woke once during the night and fancied that he heard
the murmur of voices just outside his window. He
slipped quietly from the bed without disturbing his
brother and crept to the window. But the sound
had stopped and, although it was bright moonlight,
he could see no one, and he went back to bed to
fall asleep almost immediately.
At breakfast Jeb seemed more cheerful.
"To tell you the truth I expected a visit from
those fellows last night," he told them. "I had the
boys on the watch all night, but they didn't show
up and I'm beginning to think that maybe it was
only a flying visit and, perhaps, it wasn't Hains after
all. Still, you'd better not get too far away from
home," he cautioned them.
For three days they did not go beyond sight of
the house. No further reports regarding the bandits
reached the ranch and the worried look had nearly,
if not quite, left Jeb's face.