THE FIGHT
The boy ranchers, meaning this time Nort and Dick, as distinguished
from Bud, felt that they were on their mettle--that they were being put
to a severe test. They had ridden out from the mysterious camp of the
professors, and now they were to ride back to it, leading the raiding
party. True, they had come out at night, and under the stress of
excitement, so that it was not easy to determine the trail back.
But as the boys rode alone, each at the head of a cavalcade that was
beginning to diverge, they felt the full measure of responsibility.
One of them must make good--must pick up the obscure trail leading to
the rendezvous of the cattle rustlers.
It was Dick who proved the lucky one this time. The party led by Nort
was out of sight among the many hills and swales, when Dick, riding
past a water hole, stopped suddenly.
"The trail goes in that way," he said. "I'm sure of it. Blackie
stopped here when we were riding out, to get a drink."
"Are you sure he stopped here?" asked Babe, who was with Dick's party.
"Positive! He stopped in such a hurry that I slid off and fell, and
this excited him so I had quite a job holding him."
In an instant one of the cowboys was out of his saddle and looking
carefully at the ground.
"The kid's right!" he exclaimed. "There's been some sort of a fracas
here."
In that country, where rains were infrequent, and travel light, marks
remained for a long time on the dry ground.
"I'm sure it was here," declared Dick, "and we came out that way." He
pointed toward some distant hills.
"Well, we'll take a chance on it," said Babe. "Light a fire, fellows."
In a few minutes a column of smoke was ascending, and two of the
cowboys, holding a blanket over it, moved the cloth to one side at
intervals, so that puffs of the dark vapor arose and floated upward.
"That'll call 'em," observed Babe, who sat on his horse directing
operations, at the same time scanning the horizon for answering signals
from Nort's party.
"Won't the rustlers see these and skip out?" asked Dick, as the smoke
puffs went up thick and fast.
"Don't believe so," spoke Babe. "If they do see 'em they'll only think
they're camp fires, or round-up blazes."
"We'll do the rounding-up," grimly commented Snake Purdee. "But of
course these fellows may be on the lookout. Can't hardly expect much
else after they come to know that their prisoners have skipped, and the
Greaser has gone back to his baby days, eating paregoric! Oh, my
spurs! That was slick!"
"There they are!" suddenly cried Dick, as he descried other smoke
signals going up, about three miles away. And in a short time there
rode up to the waiting ones the members of the other party.
"Dick says this is the trail in," remarked Babe, detailing our hero's
reasons for his statement.
"Yes, he's right," assented Nort. "We did come this way."
"All right then! Go to it, boys!" commanded Mr. Merkel, and the party
rode off.
As they advanced, the configuration of the ground became more and more
familiar to the two boys. They passed places which they had ridden
over in approaching the half-hidden valley, before they fairly stumbled
on it and were captured.
"I reckon we're getting warm," decided Mr. Merkel, after several hours
of cautious riding. "Some of you fellows better take it on foot for
half a mile or so, and see what you can locate. We'll wait for you
here."
Two cowboys, leaving their horses rather reluctantly, formed an advance
scouting party, and the others waited down in a little swale. In less
than half an hour the two scouts had returned, and their manner showed
suppressed excitement.
"We located 'em," said one. "They're in the next valley.'
"What are they doing?" asked Bud.
"We didn't stop to see that," was the answer. "As soon as we saw the
white tents we came back."
"All right," said Mr. Merkel grimly, "now we've got 'em! Spread out,
boys, and don't do any shooting unless it's absolutely necessary. We
just want to capture the rascals. But be sure your guns are in working
order."
Most of the cowboys knew this without looking, but Bud, Nort and Dick
made a careful inspection of their weapons.
Proceeding cautiously, the cavalcade approached. Some had been sent on
in advance, to circle about and approach the valley from the far side,
thus enabling it to be surrounded.
Two shots, fired at a brief interval, was to be a signal from the
advance party, led by Slim, that they were in place, and ready to
attack.
"There! One shot!" suddenly cried Bud, as a sharp report cut the air.
It was followed, almost immediately, by another.
"Come on, boys!" cried Mr. Merkel, and there was a general leaping to
saddles. Bud and his cousins were not a bit behind the cowboys and a
little later, amid shouts, the two parties rode at a fast clip down the
slopes toward the mysterious camp.
"Look! There are your cattle!" cried Nort to Mr. Merkel, as several
steers were seen, standing in a bunch near some queer piece of
apparatus that looked like a derrick.
"That's right!" shouted the cattleman, for he had caught sight of the
animals bearing the Diamond X brand. "But what in the name of sour
dough biscuits are they doing?" he asked. "If these are rustlers
they're the queerest ones I ever saw!"
"Well, they're rustlers all right!" yelled several of the cowboys.
"Come on, fellows! Let's get at 'em!"
"Right you are, Buddy!" rang out savage, exultant yells on all sides.
The cowboys wished for nothing better than to come to hand grips with
lawless men who stole the fruit of others' labor. "Treat 'em rough!"
"Sit tight and ride hard!" called Bud to Nort and Dick. "There's going
to be some hot work!" and he spoke to his pony, which leaped forward as
if he, too, wanted to get into the fight.
"Will we need our guns?" asked Dick.
"Better have 'em handy!" advised Nort, as his hand went to the leather
holster at his hip.
"Look at 'em!" shouted Bud. "They're going to fight us all right!"
Indeed, it did appear that the party in the camp established by the
professors, taken by surprise as they were, meant to resist to the
utmost. Men could be seen running back to the tents, whence some
reappeared with guns or big .45s. Others, including the two professors
themselves, remained at the scene where some of the Diamond X cattle
were attached by ropes to the apparatus that looked like the derrick.
"Are they trying to brand your cattle over again, Bud?" asked Dick as
he and his cousin rode alongside of the young rancher.
"I don't know," was the answer. "If they are, they're going about it
in a new way. I wonder what they are up to, anyhow?"
Well might he ask that, for as the raiding party made its rush into the
valley several men near the professors, were urging forward the steers
that were harnessed, or yoked together in some manner, to cause them to
act as a lifting force. By means of ropes rigged over the derrick-like
structure, something heavy was being hoisted from a great hole in the
ground.
The steers, unused to this work, for which gentle oxen might have been
admirably fitted, were acting wildly, and the Greasers, and other
campers, were having their hands full. This with the shouts of the
attacking party, the thud of the feet of many galloping horses and the
firing of shots into the air by the wildly enthusiastic cowboys from
Diamond X, made the place one of great confusion.
"Rout 'em out, boys!"
"Haze 'em into the brook!"
"Cut out our cattle!"
"Rope 'em an' hog-tie 'em!"
These were only a few of the many directions that were yelled at the
tops of voices as the boy ranchers and their friends swept onward down
the valley, converging on the band of men they believed to be cattle
rustlers, if not something worse.
"Hands up, there!"
"Drop those guns!"
These commands came sternly from Mr. Merkel, Babe and Slim, while Dick
and Nort, riding beside Bud, felt a wild thrill as they realized that
they were to have a part in this strenuous fight. To possible danger
they gave not a thought.
But if the attacking party thought everything was to be easy, it was
not long before this idea vanished. After the first surprise, the
Greasers, and other rough characters in the camp of the professors,
regained their nerve, and prepared to fight. There were shouts in
hissing Spanish, and Del Pinzo was observed to be rallying his
followers.
Bud and his cousins had a glimpse of this wily Mexican leaping on his
horse, and, surrounded by a number of evil-looking men, riding straight
for the invaders.
"They're coming!" cried Nort.
"I see 'em!" muttered Dick.
"Keep together!" advised Bud in a wild cry. "Stay with me, and we'll
ride right through 'em!"
Several weapons popped, and two or three saddles were emptied, one on
the side of the Diamond X forces. Nort and Dick heard bullets
whistling in the air over their heads, and though they may have ducked,
instinctively, they did not after the first two or three of these
nerve-racking experiences.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled Bud to his cousins, as they saw Del Pinzo
and his gang of Greasers spurring toward them.
Nort and Dick touched their horses lightly, and the spirited ponies
sprang forward. Dick had a glimpse of the two professors, and one or
two other men, standing by the derrick structure as though dazed at the
sudden turn in affairs. Some of the helpers were endeavoring to quiet
the harnessed cattle.
"Ride 'em down, boys! Ride 'em down!" yelled Mr. Merkel.
"You said it!" shouted Slim Degnan, and Babe added his voice to the
din, the while starting one of the verses of his cowboys' song.
"Crack!"
That was a gun going off close to the ear of Dick. He leaned over
slightly in his saddle, fearing he had been hit. But in another
instant he realized that Bud had fired, with a pistol held so close to
the eastern lad's ear as nearly to deafen him.
"Well, I got him, anyhow!" yelled Bud, and Dick saw a man who had been
riding at Del Pinzo's side drop his gun and clasp his right hand in his
left. "That's what I wanted to do--disarm him. No need to shoot to
kill!" Bud went on.
Dick saw a Mexican riding straight at him, and the boy endeavored to
bring his weapon to bear as Bud had done. But just as the boy rancher
was going to pull the trigger something else happened. He felt himself
flying over the head of his pony, and the next moment came heavily to
the ground, while blackness closed his eyes. Dick was out of the fight.
The battle between the cowboys and the Greasers now waged hotly. Guns
cracked on both sides and more than one saddle was emptied. This
before the two forces actually came together. And come together they
did, with the thud of horses and men meeting, as when two rival
football elevens clash on the gridiron. Only this was more desperate.
Nort had a glimpse of Dick being unhorsed and left behind in a silent,
huddled heap on the ground. A wave of sorrow, and then a wild feeling
of revenge, swept through Nort's heart. He sent his pony ahead with a
rush, endeavoring to wheel him to attack the man at whom Dick had been
riding when unseated.
"Look out!" Bud yelled.
Nort turned in time to see Del Pinzo himself bearing down on him
astride of a powerful black horse. The Greaser was yelling and waving
his gun, from the muzzle of which smoke floated.
"I'll get him!" yelled Nort, savagely. He swerved his own weapon,
bringing it to bear on the evilly smiling Mexican, and Nort's own face
lit up in a grim smile, for he thought to revenge Dick.
But the next instant he felt a burning, stinging pain across his
forehead and a second later his eyes saw nothing, while he was
conscious that they were filled with blood that streamed from his wound.
"I'm shot!" was the thought that flashed through Nort's mind.
He endeavored to pull up his pony, conscious that he was losing control
over the animal. He wanted his eyes to see where he was heading.
By a great effort of will Nort caught up his gun in his bridle hand,
and with his right wiped away as much of the blood as he could from his
eyes. A great emotion of thankfulness passed over him as he found that
he could still see, though dimly.
He caught sight of Del Pinzo still spurring toward him, but the next
moment a curious change took place.
"Let me have him!" Nort heard Bud yell, seemingly from a great
distance, though, in reality from a position directly behind him. Then
as his vision dimmed again, Nort caught a fleeting sight of a lasso
whirling and writhing through the air toward the Greaser.
Del Pinzo tried in vain to dodge it, but his horse was traveling too
fast. Then, as darkness again closed down on poor Nort he had a vision
of the Greaser, covered with blood, shouting and wildly jerking his
arms and legs, being pulled from the saddle to the ground, his gun
going off harmlessly as he was yanked along.
"Bud got him!" was the thought that flashed through Nort's mind, and
then all became black, and he felt some one helping him down out of his
saddle.
"Where's Dick? I'm not much hurt!" Nort heard himself murmuring,
though, to tell the truth, he did not know for certain whether he was
mortally wounded or not. "Look after Dick! Are they beating us?" he
asked, though he could not see to whom he was talking.
"Dick's all right," answered a voice that Nort recognized as that of
Babe. "It's you we're worried about."
"Nothing much the matter with me," spoke Nort, as his hand again went
to his head. Then he found that a bullet had creased its way across
his forehead, cutting a long gash, but making a wound that was only
superficial, though it bled profusely.
"Are we getting licked?" demanded Nort anxiously, as more shots
resounded in the valley, and he could hear the yells of cowboys, the
clashing of bodies one against the other and the lowing of the cattle.
"No, we've got 'em on the run!" exulted Babe. "Come on, till I lead
you to water, and you can wash off that blood. You look bad that way,
even if you aren't hurt much!"
"Are you sure Dick's all right?" Nort asked.
"Sure! His horse stumbled and threw him. He's limping over this way
now."
"Good!" murmured Nort, and his heart felt better.
But the fighting was not over yet. Driven partly from the valley at
the first rush of the boy ranchers and their friends from Diamond X,
the Greasers and Mexican cowboys returned with a rush. This took place
when Nort was trying to rid himself of some of the blood that had
flowed freely from the gash on his head.
"There goes Yellin' Kid!" cried Babe, as he darted away from Nort's
side.
"Killed?" asked the boy, who could not see just then, as some water got
in his eyes.
"Killed? Shucks, no!" yelled Babe exultantly. "He rode into one
Greaser and knocked him seven ways from Sunday, and roped another,
yankin' him out of the saddle! Oh, boy!" and with a yell Babe ran to
join in the fray.
Nort cleared his face of blood and water long enough to see Snake
Purdee keel over out of his saddle as a bullet struck him, though it
afterward developed that the cowboy was not badly hurt.
Slim was slightly wounded, and Mr. Merkel had a narrow escape. But
though the Diamond X bunch took hard knocks they gave harder ones. Nor
did the professors escape scathless, for Mr. Wright was grazed by a
spent bullet, and his helper was horned by one of the wild steers.
"There they go! We've made 'em run for cover!" shrilly cried Yellin'
Kid as he spurred after the last of the lawless men. "Yip! Yippy!
There they go!"
And go the rascals did--that is, those who were not wounded or captured.