THE ATTEMPT FOILED
It was only a moment that surprise held Nort motionless, sitting up
there by the small fire of greasewood twigs, with the bunch of cattle
moving uneasily in the darkness. Then, with a yell that had in it both
warning and encouragement, Nort scrambled to his feet and made a grab
for Dick, who was being dragged off in the loop of a lariat, the other
end being manipulated by some one unseen.
"Hold it, Dick! Hold it!" cried Nort, as, many a time he had thus
shouted encouragement to his brother on the football field. "Hold it!"
But Dick was unable to do this. Taken at a disadvantage, awakened from
a half-sleep as he was, and dragged from a fairly comfortable bed, he
was puzzled and confused, not to say frightened.
But he was capable of yelling, and this he did to the best of his
ability.
"Here! Quit that! Let up! What you doing?" shouted Dick, for, as he
said afterward, he thought it was one of the cowboys playing a trick on
him, hazing a tenderfoot, perhaps, though Dick proudly imagined that he
was fast graduating from that class.
The yells of the two brothers naturally awakened Bud who, being more
used to sleeping in the open than were his cousins, had almost at once
gone soundly to sleep. But it did not take the young rancher long to
rouse himself.
"What's the matter? What's going on?" shouted Bud, and Nort had a
glimpse of his cousin with his gun in his hand. This reminded Nort
that he had left his weapon under his tarpaulin, and he made a dash to
get it, mentally blaming himself for not proving more true to his idea
of the traditions of the West, and having his revolver always with him.
With a quick motion of his foot, Bud shoved some unburned sticks of
greasewood into the blaze. They flared up, and the young ranchman
wheeled quickly, and tried to pierce the gloom into which Dick had been
dragged.
But that lad had not been idle during this strenuous time. He had felt
the lariat tightening about the upper part of his body, and he had let
out a frightened yell. But he had done more than yell. He had grasped
the rope with both hands, in a quick, upward motion, and had succeeded
in slipping it off, over his head, a task he would have been unable to
perform had his enemy had daylight in his favor. But, as it was, Dick
succeeded in escaping the noose.
"Who is it? Who did that?" yelled Dick, as he managed to get to his
feet, and staggered back toward his tarpaulin, evidently with the
intention of seeking his gun.
But there came no answer out of the gloom.
Bud and Nort hurried over to Dick, who was rather dazed and ruffled up
from the experience he had undergone.
"Hurt?" asked Nort, quickly.
"Not to speak of," answered Dick. "Was that one of the boys?" he
asked, turning to Bud.
"One of our cowboys? No, they don't do such things," was the answer.
"It must have been----"
He was interrupted by the rapid thuds of hoofs and, an instant later,
there dashed into the circle of light Dirk and Chot, two of the men who
had been left when the others rode away to get on the trail of the
rustlers.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Dirk, reining in his pony so suddenly
that the animal slid with his forefeet almost in the embers of the fire.
"Somebody tried to rope Dick," answered Bud. "I didn't see it, but I
had a glimpse of him being dragged off on the end of a lariat."
"I saw it come shooting in from out there," and Nort waved his hand
toward the darkness.
"I _felt_ it!" grimly declared Dick. "I just managed to slip it off in
time."
"You were lucky," commented Chot. "Let's see who it was," he added.
"Couldn't have been any of our lads," he said in a low voice. "I've
known 'em to do such tricks, but not at a time like this. Might have
been some fresh puncher from Double Z, but if it was----"
"Come on!" interrupted Dirk, satisfied from a glance that no harm had
befallen Dick. Dirk wheeled his horse and rode off into the darkness,
in the direction where the end of the lariat had disappeared, when the
unseen thrower had pulled it to him after Dick's escape.
The two cowboys, who had been on the far side of the herd, had ridden
hurriedly in on hearing the cries of the startled boys. And now they
rushed off in the darkness, trying to find out who it was that had
displayed such evil intentions.
For it was a desperate thing to do. A little higher up and the rope
would have encircled Dick's neck, and it would have taken only a short
time of pulling him across the ground to have choked him. He, himself,
did not realize his danger until later.
For a few moments, after the arrival of Dirk and Chot from the far side
of the resting herd, and their subsequent dash off into the darkness,
Bud, Nort and Dick did nothing. They stood there around the greasewood
fire, trying to understand clearly what had happened.
Then, from the herd of cattle came unmistakable signs of some
disturbance. There were snorts and bellows, the mooing of cows and the
stamping of hoofs. At the same time, from the far side, whence Dirk
and Chot had ridden in, there came the murmur of voices.
"Rustlers!" cried Bud, understanding at once what it all meant now.
"Dirk! Chot! Come on back! The rustlers are here! It's a trick!
Come on back!"
"Rustlers!" exclaimed Nort.
"Yes!" shouted Bud. "That's their game! They tried to scare us so
they could work in from the other side, and run off a bunch of steers.
Dirk! Chot!" he cried again, making a megaphone of his hands, and
sending his cry out into the night.
"Whoo-oop!" came faintly back to the boys, and then the thud of rapidly
moving hoofs mingled with the movement of the cattle. For the steers
and cows that were being hazed to the railroad yard were now in motion.
"Put some more wood on!" cried Bud. "If they stampede this way it may
hold 'em back!"
"Will they stampede?" asked Dick.
"No telling. Somebody's in among 'em, over on that side, trying to cut
out a bunch. We've got to held 'em in if we can! Get on your ponies!"
It was the work of but a few seconds to do this. The ponies had been
staked out not far from the fire, which was now burning brightly from
the amount of greasewood piled on it. Bud was first in the saddle, but
his cousins were not far behind him.
And, as they mounted, and started to ride around the herd, to hold the
now frightened and uneasy animals in check, Dirk and Chot galloped in
out of the distant darkness.
"What's the matter?" shouted Dirk.
"Rustlers!" yelled Bud. "They tried that lasso stunt to draw you in
from the far side, and now they're over there trying to cut out some
steers."
"Well, I guess we'll have something to say about that!" grimly observed
Chot. "Come on!"
Clapping spurs to his pony, he and Dirk began the work of milling the
cattle--that is, getting them to move around in a circle rather than
dash off in a straight line stampede. This turning of the herd, into a
circular instead of a straight movement, is the only way to save the
lives of the animals, or prevent them from being driven off by thieves.
Dick and Nort had been on Diamond X ranch long enough to understand
what was being attempted, and they joined with Bud in the work. As
Chot and Dirk rode back to take the stations they had left, firing
their guns and shouting to turn the leaders, Bud and his cousins did
the same in their locality.
As yet they had caught no sight of the rustlers, but it was very
evident that these unscrupulous men were at work, trying to drive off
some of the valuable animals, all fattened and ready for market.
Confused shouts came from the direction where Chot and Dirk had ridden.
"Lively, boys! Lively!" cried Bud to the two easterners, and he fired
his gun in the air as he rode toward the cattle that seemed inclined to
dash past the circle of firelight.
Following their cousin, Dick and Nort dashed in, also firing, and the
five cowboys--for Dick and Nort were now entitled to be called
that--finally succeeded in milling the cattle, and preventing the
stampede.
But it was hard work and it was nearly morning before the steers were
quieted down after the excitement. The attempt of the rustlers had
been foiled, for that time at least.