Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: THE BIG POWERFUL BLACK ACTED AS THOUGH HE HAD GONE WILD.]
The Saddle Boys of the Rockies
Or
Lost on Thunder Mountain
BY
CAPTAIN JAMES CARSON
AUTHOR OF
"THE SADDLE BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON,"
"THE SADDLE BOYS ON THE PLAINS,"
"THE SADDLE BOYS AT CIRCLE RANCH," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyrighted 1913, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. ACCEPTING A CHALLENGE
II. THE STRANGE ACTIONS OF DOMINO
III. OLD HANK COOMBS BEARS A MESSAGE
IV. A NOTE OF WARNING AT THE SPRING HOLE
V. THE VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN
VI. A SECOND ALARM
VII. THE "RUSTLERS"
VIII. A STARTLING DISCOVERY
IX. WHAT HAPPENED TO PEG
X. THREATS OF TROUBLE
XI. THE BLACK NIGHT
XII. LOSING THEIR BEARINGS
XIII. THE SMOKE TRAIL
XIV. A CALL FOR HELP
XV. SPANISH JOE DROPS A HINT
XVI. THE VENT HOLE IN THE WALL
XVII. FRANK HOLDS THE HOT STICK
XVIII. A GUESS THAT HITS THE BULLSEYE
XIX. THE WORKING OF THE GOLD LODE
XX. TRAPPED IN THE CANYON
XXI. A CLOSE CALL
XXII. ONCE MORE AT CIRCLE RANCH--CONCLUSION
THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES
CHAPTER I
ACCEPTING A CHALLENGE
"Hello! what brought you here, Frank Haywood, I'd like to know?"
"Well, I reckon my horse, Buckskin, did, Peg."
"And who's this with you--your new chum; the boy from Kentucky?"
"That's who it is, Peg--Bob Archer; and he's come out West to see how
life on the plains suits him."
"Oh! a greenhorn, eh?"
"Perhaps some people might call him that, though he knows a heap about
horses. But seems to me, Peg, 'twasn't so very long ago that you
yourself dropped in on us here. Since when did you climb up out of the
tenderfoot class, tell me?"
The boy who answered to the name of Frank Haywood was a rather chunky,
well set-up lad of about sixteen. He had blue eyes, that were usually
sparkling with mirth; and a mop of yellow hair; while his skin was
darkened by long exposure to sun and wind.
Frank was the son of a rancher, who not only owned a large tract of
land with many herds, but had interests in paying mines located among
the mountains of the Southwest. Of course he knew more or less
concerning such things as cowboys practice; though never a day passed
on which Frank could not pick up new ideas connected with life in the
open.
His companion, Bob Archer, was considerably taller than Frank, straight
as an Indian, though rather inclined to be slender; but with a
suppleness that indicated such strength and agility as the panther
displays.
Coming from Kentucky, Bob could at least boast of long familiarity with
horses; and his cleverness in this line promised to make him a crack
horseman when he had picked up a few more of the tricks known to range
riders.
Both of the boys were especially fond of roaming the country, mounted
on their favorite steeds; and indeed, they were becoming known far and
near as the "Saddle Boys" because of their being seen so frequently,
dashing over the prairies at top-notch speed.
Peg was the nick-name which had followed Percy Egbert Grant all the way
from the Chicago suburb, where, for some years, he had played the part
of both dude and bully. His father was very wealthy, and Peg always
had more money than was good for him.
When he came to the great X-bar-X ranch, not so very far distant from
the Haywood home place, Peg had adopted the same tactics that had
carried the day for him in the past. The cowboys belonging to his
father's estate seemed to knuckle under to him from the first. However
much they might ridicule Peg behind his back, they cringed when he gave
orders; because he was a liberal paymaster, and no one wished to incur
his enmity.
So it came to pass that Peg actually began to believe himself of great
importance in the community. He assumed airs that ill became one who
was really ignorant of many things connected with ranch life.
He and Frank had never become friends. There was something about the
fellow that the saddle boy could not tolerate. More than once they had
almost come to blows; and, only for the peace-loving nature of Frank,
this must have occurred long ago.
The two chums had taken the long gallop to the town on the railroad on
this particular day to do a little important business for Mr. Haywood,
who was associated with Bob's uncle in certain large mining
enterprises. And it was while entering the town that they met Peg,
who, with his customary assurance, had halted them with the question
that begins this chapter.
When Frank give him this little cut, the face of Peg Grant showed signs
of anger. He knew very well that he was making wretched progress along
the line of becoming an accomplished rider and cowboy. And the easy
manner in which the other boys sat their saddles irritated him greatly.
"What does it matter to you, Frank Haywood, when I left the greenhorn
class and moved up a pace? All the boys of the X-bar-X outfit say I'm
full-fledged now, and able to hold my own with nearly any fellow.
It'll be some time, I reckon, before your new friend can say the same.
But I will own that he's got a horse that takes my eye, for a fact."
"That's where you show good judgment, Peg," said Frank, laughing. "He
brought that black horse with him from Kentucky. And he can ride some,
you'd better believe me. When he gets on to the ways we have out here,
Bob will hold his own against heaps of boys that were born and brought
up on the plains."
"Say, I don't suppose, now, you'd care to sell that animal, Archer?"
asked Peg, as he eyed the handsome mount of the Kentucky boy enviously.
"Because I fancy I'd like to own him more than I ever did that frisky
buckskin Frank rides. If you'd put a fairly decent price on him now--"
"I raised Domino from a colt, I broke him to the saddle, and we have
been together five years now. Money couldn't buy him from me," replied
the tall boy, curtly.
It was not Bob Archer's habit to speak in this strain to anyone; but
there seemed to be a something connected with Peg Grant that irritated
him. The manner of the other was so overbearing as to appear almost
rude. He had had his own way a long time now; and thus far no one
connected with the big ranch owned by his father had arisen to take him
down.
"Oh! well, there are plenty of horses just as good, I guess," Peg went
on; "and some people don't appreciate the value of money, anyway. But
see here, Frank, you let your eyebrows travel up when I mentioned the
fact that I'd graduated from the tenderfoot class. I could see that
you doubted my words. Now, I'm going to tell you something that will
surprise you a heap. Are you ready for a shock?"
"Oh; I can brace myself for nearly anything, Peg," replied Frank,
easily; "so suppose you tell us your great news. Have you entered for
the endurance race at the annual cowboy meet next month; or do you
expect to take the medal for riding bucking broncos?"
"Any ordinary range rider might do that, even if he lost out," Peg went
on; "but my game is along different lines; see? I'm on my way right
now to run down the mystery of Thunder Mountain! I understand that for
years it's puzzled the whole country to know what makes that roaring
sound every now and then. Many cowboys couldn't be hired to spend a
single night on that mountain. As for the Indians, they claim it is
the voice of Great Manitou; and steer clear of Thunder Mountain, every
time. Get that, Frank?"
"Well, Peg, you have given me a jolt, for a fact," answered the saddle
boy, as his face expressed his surprise. "I allow that you show a lot
of nerve in laying out such a big plan; and if you only find out what
makes that trembling, roaring sound, you'll get the blessing of many a
range rider who believes all the stories told about Thunder Mountain."
Peg stiffened up in his saddle, as though he realized that he was
engineering a tremendously important thing; and had a right to be
looked up to as a hero, even before the accomplishment of the deed.
"Well, that's always the way with you fellows out here, I find," he
remarked, loftily; "you leave all the big things to be done by fellows
with real backbone. But then, I don't mind; in fact I'm obliged to you
for neglecting your opportunities so long. Just you wait, and you'll
hear something drop. Couldn't I induce you to name a price on that
black beauty, Archer?"
"Domino is not for sale at any price," replied the other, quietly.
"Oh! all right then. So long, Frank. Go back home, and wait till I
send you word about what I've found out!" and with a careless wave of
his arm Peg whirled his horse around, and galloped off.
"Now, I wonder did he mean that; or was he just bluffing?" said Frank,
as he turned to his chum.
"He looked as if he might be in dead earnest," replied Bob; "but you
know him better than I do, and ought to be able to say whether he'd
have the sand to take up such a job as that."
"Oh! nobody doubts his grit, when it comes to that," Frank went on, as
though trying to figure the matter out. "And he seems to want to do
something everybody else lets alone. You know what I told you about
Thunder Mountain, Bob; and how it has been a mystery ever since the
country hereabout was settled by people from the East?"
"Yes," the Kentucky boy replied, "and somehow, what you told me seemed
to shake me up as I don't ever remember being stirred before. It was
like a direct challenge--just like somebody had dared me to look into
this queer old mountain, and find out what it all meant."
"That's just it," said Frank, watching the face of his chum with a show
of eagerness. "It struck me the same way long ago, and I can remember
often thinking what a great time a few of the right kind of fellows
might have if they took a notion to go nosing around that old pile of
rock, to see what does make all that row every little while."
"And you tell me nobody knows what it is?" demanded Bob.
"Why, don't you understand, the cowboys all keep away from Thunder
Mountain as much as they can. They're worse than the Injuns about it,
because while the reds say that is the voice of Manitou talking, these
fellows just up and declare the mountain is haunted. Lots of 'em
couldn't be hired to spend a night on the side of that big uplift."
"But Frank, we don't believe in any such thing, do we?" pursued Bob, as
if he had begun to suspect what all this talk was leading up to, and
wished to draw his chum on.
"We sure don't, and that's a fact," declared Frank. "Twice, now, one
of our boys has made out that he saw a ghost, but both times I managed
to turn the laugh on him. All the same, if you offered a lump sum for
any fellow to go and camp out half-way up the side of Thunder Mountain
for a week, I don't believe he could be found, not at Circle Ranch,
anyhow."
"I've seen the same kind of men myself; and the coons around our old
Kentucky home always carried a foot of a graveyard rabbit, shot in the
full of the moon, as a sure talisman against ghosts. I've seen many a
rabbit's foot. No use talking to any of them; it's in the blood and
can't be cured. But about that offering a sum for any fellow to go and
camp on the side of that old fraud of a haunted mountain, if you happen
to hear about such a snap you might just think of me, Frank."
The other saddle boy smiled broadly. He believed he knew Bob pretty
well by this time, and could no longer doubt what the Kentucky lad was
hinting at.
"Say, look here, would you take me up if I proposed something right
now?" asked Frank, his face filled with sudden animation.
"If you mean that we try and beat Peg Grant at his own game, and learn
what the secret of Thunder Mountain is, I say yes!" answered Bob,
steadily.
"Shake on that!" he exclaimed. "I'm just primed for something that's
out of the common run; and what could be finer than such a game? I saw
Billy Dixon in town; and we can send back word to father that we've
gone off for a big gallop; so he won't worry if we don't turn up for a
few days. Is it a go, Bob?"
"Count on me," replied the other. "I don't know how it is, Frank; but
it strikes me that I'd like to cut in on that boaster in this thing.
If we managed to find out what makes that fearful booming in the
mountain, and told about it before he got a chance to blow his horn,
he'd feel cheap, wouldn't he?"
"He sure would, now," Frank said. "And when you look at it, he just
the same as gave us the challenge direct, because he hinted that we
didn't have the nerve to attempt such a big thing as this. Bob, we'll
call it a go! Wonder what Peg will say when he runs across us out
there in that lonely place? Wow! I reckon he'll be some mad."
"Let him," remarked Bob, carelessly. "He has no claim on Thunder
Mountain; has he? And we want to call his bluff, if it was one. So
just make up your mind we're in for a new experience. It may pan out a
heap of fun for us. And it will be worth while if we can settle the
question that has been giving these superstitious cowmen the creeps all
these years."
"Then let's get through with our business, send word by Billy, though
not telling what we've got in the wind, and then pick up a few things
we might need on a trip like this. After that we can drop out of town,
and take our time heading for the mountain; because I think I'd like
Peg to get there first, so that he couldn't say we'd stolen his
thunder."
Half an hour later the saddle boys, having finished their business, and
sent the Circle ranch cowboy galloping homeward bearing the message to
Mr. Haywood, were moving slowly through the main street of the town,
heading toward a store where they could pick up a couple of blankets, a
simple cooking outfit, and some of the substantials in the way of
bacon, coffee and the like, when they came upon a scene that instantly
attracted their attention.
It was a terrified cry that reached their ears at first, and caused
both boys to pull in their horses. Glancing in the direction whence
the sound of distress seemed to spring, they saw a small Mexican girl
struggling with an over-grown fellow, garbed in the customary range
habit, even to the "chaps" of leather covering his trousers.
Both Frank and Bob jumped from their saddles, for the little affair was
taking place in the courtyard of an inn that fronted on the street.
Whether the brute was simply playing the bully, and trying to kiss the
girl; or meant to strike her for getting in his way, Bob Archer did not
stop to inquire.
His warm Kentucky blood on fire, he made a swoop for the fellow, and
managed to give him a tremendous blow that toppled him over in a heap.
"Lie there, you coward!" he exclaimed.
And then, as the fellow whom he had knocked down struggled to his
knees, to stare up at him, Bob discovered, not a little to his
surprise, and satisfaction as well, that he was looking into a familiar
face.
It was Peg Grant!