Produced by Al Haines
[Transcriber's note: Extensive research found no evidence
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "AND WIN HE DID." _Boy Ranchers on Roaring River._]
THE
BOY RANCHERS
ON ROARING RIVER
OR
_Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers_
By
WILLARD F. BAKER
Author of
"The Boy Ranchers,"
"The Boy Ranchers in Camp,"
"The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek,"
"The Boy Ranchers in the Desert," etc.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES
By WILLARD F. BAKER
12mo. Cloth. Frontispiece
THE BOY RANCHERS
Or Solving the Mystery at Diamond X
THE BOY RANCHERS IN CAMP
Or the Water Fight at Diamond X
THE BOY RANCHERS ON THE TRAIL
Or Diamond X after Cattle Rustlers
THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS
Or Diamond X Trailing the Yaquis
THE BOY RANCHERS AT SPUR CREEK
Or Diamond X Fighting the Sheep Herders
THE BOY RANCHERS IN THE DESERT
Or Diamond X and the Lost Mine
THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER
Or Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, New York
COPYRIGHT, 1926, BY
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A DANGEROUS MISSION
II A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE
III A SUSPICIOUS VISITOR
IV THE HIDDEN GUNMAN
V ARRIVAL AT THE RANCH
VI THE THREAT
VII A SHEEPLESS SHEEP RANCH
VIII CYCLONE
IX DELTON RETURNS
X BUD FINDS A NOTE
XI JOE HAWKINS'S VISIT
XII THE STORY OF SMUGGLING
XIII TRAPPED
XIV TO-MORROW NIGHT
XV BILLEE DOBB'S STORY
XVI BUD'S ESCAPE
XVII A NIGHT OF WAITING
XVIII SMUGGLING OPERATIONS
XIX THE CHASE
XX DOWN AND OUT
XXI CLOSING IN
XXII FLYING BULLETS
XXIII A RING OF FIRE
XXIV THE RATTLING BUCKBOARD
XXV YELLIN' KID FINDS HIS BRONC
THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER
CHAPTER I
A DANGEROUS MISSION
"Hold up there, you pint o' peanuts! Hold up, I say! Well, for the
love of spread eagle! I suppose you boys are lookin' for a job; eh?"
The speaker, a typical, raw-boned cowboy, looked down from his pony at
three boys seated on a bench at the side of the cook-house.
"Whether we are or not, we've got it, Kid," answered one of the seated
trio, a well set-up youth with light hair. "And the funny part of it
is, we don't know what the job is."
"Huh! Got a job and you don't know what it is? Well, Nort, guess I'll
have to look into this," and the cowboy whom Nort addressed as
"Kid"--or, to give him his full nick-name, "Yellin' Kid"--swung lightly
from his saddle. "Hold up there, you pony, you!" this as the Kid's
mount started to prance about wildly. "Just got this here dust-raiser,
and she ain't used to my ways yet," he chuckled. "Hy' ya', Dick, and
Bud! How's the boy, Nort? By golly, ranchin' is sure doin' you
fellers good! You-all got some powerful grip!"
The three boys, Nort and Dick Shannon, and their cousin Bud Merkel,
grinned widely. They were all of the same mold--clean-cut,
straight-shooting lads, their faces bronzed from the prairie sun, and
their eyes as clear as the blue sky above them.
"Yes, Kid, ranching has done us good--in more ways than one. In fact
it's done us up brown." And Bud laughed a little ruefully.
"What's the matter? Rustlers, or disease?" The Kid's face expressed
instant concern as he mentioned these two nightmares of the rancher's
life.
"No, not either--but something almost as bad. You tell him, Nort,"
suggested Bud.
"You started it--you might as well finish out, Bud. You know as much
about it as I do."
"Aw, get Dick to. He hasn't said a word yet."
"Well, for Pete's sake, _somebody_ tell me before I drop dead from
excitement!" burst out Yellin' Kid.
"All right--I'll tell you, Kid," Dick started. "Last week we were to
deliver a herd of longhorns to J. K. Jackson, over to Double-O ranch.
Sold 'em at a good fat price, too, that would have put us on our feet
for the rest of the year. Well, we sent four of our men to ride 'em
in. I went along with 'em. We started about sun-up, calculatin' to
reach the Double-O before night, and everything was lovely. 'Long
about noon we reached the gorge near Galgo. I suggested we ride the
cattle as far from the gorge as we could get, 'cause I know how easy a
herd of long-horns are started. But no, nothin' would do Sam Holiday
but going as near to the big cut as possible, to save time. Sam's our
new foreman, you know, and I didn't want to assert myself over him. So
we drove 'em close to the edge. I told Sam once or twice to keep
away--but oh, no! everything would be all right, and we'd have the
cattle in by five o'clock. Well, we had 'em in by five o'clock all
right. But not at the Double-O!
"Just as we were passing the deepest part of the cut we heard a most
awful Bang! and I knew in a minute what it was. Stump-blasting. Yes,
I knew what it was--but the cattle didn't. And nobody had time to tell
them, either. The steers on the extreme right made a sudden lunge--and
in three minutes it was all over. Nothin' left but an old cow who
broke her leg in the first rush. And the rest--every blessed one of
'em--two hundred feet down, lyin' dead or dyin' in the bottom of the
gorge!"
The Kid was the first to break in on the morose stillness Dick's speech
had invoked.
"Well now, say, boys, that's right sorrowful--yes, sir, that's what I
call right sorrowful! I sure am sorry for you-all! A whole herd of
cattle gone to the dogs! Well, well--that's sad. Say, is there
anything I can do to--you know, sort of help out--like, well, maybe----"
"No thanks, Kid," spoke up Dick quickly. His glance told the Kid that
he realized what the half-spoken offer meant. In the west one man
understands his friend more by feeling than by words. "Real good of
you to offer, though. No, I guess we'll make out all right. Can't
have easy riding all the time. I imagine Mr. Merkel has something for
us to do. He sent for us to come over to his ranch. So here we are.
That was the job I told you about."
"A blind job, hey? Well, I guess it's O. K. or the boss wouldn't be
mixed up in it. Anyway, here's your chance to find out. Here comes
Mr. Merkel now."
A tall, pleasant-faced man, hair slightly grayed at the temples, strode
out of the ranchhouse toward the four waiting cowboys. His resemblance
to Bud--especially around the eyes--was easily noticeable.
"Hello, Nort and Dick! How are you, son? Say, boy, you're getting
hard as a rock! What have you men been feeding Bud--leather? He sure
looks, as though it was coming through!" The kindly eyes of the older
man lighted with pride as he grasped the hand of his son.
"No, Dad--I guess hard luck toughened me up," said Bud, but his smile
belied the meaning of his words.
"Yes, I heard about your accident, boys--and that's partly why I sent
for you. I thought you might have time to do a little business for me."
"Well, I guess I'll step along, Mr. Merkel," the Kid said, as he
realized he might be intruding on a private conversation. "I got that
fence fixed up all right."
"Did you? Good! No, Kid, you stay right here. You're in on this too.
Where's Billee Dobb? I want him to hear what I have to say."
"He's 'round back, boss. I'll get him."
"Bring him in the house, Kid. My room. Come on, boys--we'll get
settled inside and wait for the Kid and Billee."
As the boys followed Mr. Merkel each one wondered what it was all
about. Dick voiced the thought of all as he whispered:
"Say, what's up? You know, Bud?"
"Nope! I'm as much in the dark as you are. Dad never said anything to
me. We'll soon know, though."
By this time they had reached the ranchhouse. As soon as the Kid
arrived with Old Billee Dobb--a grizzled product of ranching who had
been with the Diamond X from its start--Mr. Merkel motioned them to be
seated and began:
"I reckon the first thing you men want to know is the reason for this
gathering. Well, it's nothing very mysterious. I bought a sheep ranch
out near Roaring River, and I want you five to take hold of it for me.
Now--just a minute. I know what you're going to say, Kid--that sheep
nursing is no job for a cowman. But you haven't heard the rest of it.
There's been some very funny things happening out near that ranch.
I've had a letter from the government official over at Candelaria
asking whether I intend to manage those sheep, myself, and if I do
would I let him know before I take charge. Now, I'm not going to say
just what is the trouble, as I'm not actually sure myself. But I have
a hunch. And that's the reason I want you five--men I can trust--to
take charge there. Will you?"
His listeners looked at each other. In the eyes of each--with the
possible exception of Old Billee Dobb--the light of adventure was
shining. Whatever scruples the Kid had about "sheep nursing" had
vanished with the word "trouble." And he was the first to speak:
"Sure we will! What do you say, boys? Do we go out? How about it,
Dick and Nort? What do you say, Bud? Billee here is just achin' for
the experience!" And the Kid laughed, for Billee Dobb's tendency to
pretend displeasure at every change of conditions was well known.
"Yes I am--not! Like as not we'll all get shot full of holes. But if
you fellers want to go--guess I'll have to trail along to take care of
you-all!"
"Listen to him--Just try to hold him back if there's any shootin' goin'
on!"
"Then I take it you'll go?" Mr. Merkel asked.
"Yes, Dad--I'm sure we'll all be glad to take charge out there for
you," answered Bud. "I don't suppose you could tell us any more about
this government business now?"
"I'm afraid not, son--I want to be sure of my ground before I make any
statements. Well, I guess that's settled. You'll leave to-morrow."
Since this was the last night the Kid and Old Billee were to spend on
the Diamond X, it seemed fitting to the rest of the boys that there
should be some sort of an entertainment. An entertainment to a cowboy
means principally music--so after supper the boys gathered around a
roaring log fire and sang themselves hoarse. After Slim Degnan, the
foreman, and Fat Milton, his chubby assistant, had rendered their duet,
and Snake Purdee had given his famous imitation of a prima donna
singing "Bury Me Not," Bud, with Nort and Dick, decided to take a
stroll about the place to see if anything had changed. Their own
particular ranch was several miles removed from Diamond X, owned by Mr.
Merkel.
"See your Dad got a new building up," observed Dick, as they came to a
newly-painted shack, clearly visible in the bright moonlight.
"So he has. Looks like a new bunk house. Perhaps he----"
"Listen! There's somebody inside! No one is supposed to be in there
at night. It isn't open yet." This from Nort, in a low tone.
"Let's find out who it is," Bud whispered.
Silently three boys crept toward the door. Two voices could be plainly
heard, and as they came closer they could distinguish words. One voice
was that of a foreigner--evidently a Mexican. The other spoke with a
typical cowboy accent.
"You have got the money ready--yes?" the boys heard the Mexican say.
"Sure--as soon as you deliver the Chinks you get the money. But no
double-crossin'--remember that!" and the speaker emphasized his
statement by clicking his revolver ominously.
"Don' you worry--you get the Chinks all right. Shuss--there's someone
outside!"
The boys knew they had been discovered, and made a sudden rush for the
door of the shack, to see the two men who were inside. But the Mexican
and his companion were too quick for them. They ran through a back
door, and all the three boys could see of them was two dark forms
disappearing in the bushes.
"They beat us to it," Dick said in a disappointed voice. "But if ever
I hear that Mexican accent again I'll sure remember it!"
"Me too!" asserted Bud, positively, if not grammatically. "No use
hanging around here any longer. We've got to get started early in the
morning, and it might be a good idea to get in a little bunk-fatigue.
Let's hit the hay, boys!" And wondering and speculating on the meaning
of what they had seen and heard, the three went to bed.
The next day dawned clear and cool, and the boys arose with the sun.
On their way down to breakfast they met the Yellin' Kid. He was
evidently the bearer of startling tidings, as his face was more flushed
than usual, and his eyes were shining with excitement.
"Heard the news?" he burst out. Then, without waiting for an answer,
he went on:
"The marshal at Roaring River has been shot by a gang of Chink
smugglers! They captured one, but the rest got away with an auto load
of Chinks! Roaring River, boys--that's where we're going!"
Chink smugglers! That conversation in the new bunk house last
night--in a flash it all came back to the boys.
"Say, Dick, I'll bet that's what we heard the Mex talking about!" cried
Bud.