THE HIDDEN GUNMAN
"Who wants to know?" the Kid asked, staring hard at the mounted
visitor, his hand firm on the butt of his gun.
"Now, boys, take it easy--take it easy! I've got good reason's for
wantin' to know, which same I'll explain if you give me a chance. If
you don't mind I think I'll park here for the time bein'." And he
dismounted and came closer.
By the light of the fire the ranchers saw a tall, rangy cowboy of about
forty. Two deep-set eyes above a hooked nose gave him a hardened,
desert look which his manner emphasized. He was, evidently, one to
whom life had proved anything but a pink tea party. Yet, withal, he
had something about him which seemed to inspire trust.
"Well, stranger, you're welcome, but we haven't much to offer," Bud
said. "We weren't expecting to camp to-night, and we're somewhat shy
on provisions. But I guess we can rustle up something for you."
"No need of that--no need of that at all," the stranger heartily
assured them. "All I want is a little information. Guess I'd better
introduce myself first. I'm Joe Hawkins, special deputy over at
Roaring River."
The others exchanged glances in the dim light of the fire as the
visitor continued:
"Here's my badge. Don't know whether you heard about the trouble we
had, but if you didn't, I'll tell you. Roaring River is right on the
Mexican border, you know, and there's been a lot of Chink smugglin'
goin' on, with Roaring River as the key to the whole smugglin'
situation, so to speak. We don't know who's the boss of these
smugglers, but we'd give a lot to find out. Two thousand dollars, to
be exact.
"Well, anyway, two days ago we had a tip that a car-load of Chinese was
about to be rushed over the border just outside of town limits. So we
got all set. Sheriff Townley and me and three other deputies hid in
the bushes where we thought the car was goin' to pass. But we lost out.
"The car came by all right--and we hopped into the roadway to stop
them. They never stopped a-tall. Goin' like a crazy steer they flew
by on two wheels, lettin' ride with every gun they had. Got poor
Townley good. We buried him yesterday. So--now you know what it's all
about."
"And the car--did you see it again?" Dick; asked excitedly.
"No--but last night a Chink came to town and got oiled-up on pulque,
and said a few things more than he meant to. When I jumped him he lit
out for the open spaces. This morning I thought I'd take a look
around, and see if I could spot him. Sure enough I did, but the old
yellow-skin got away before I could reach him. I don't suppose you
boys saw anything of him?"
"Well now, that's mighty strange," drawled the Kid. "It so happens
that I _did_ see your man--at least I'll take odds that he was the one
you're after. This afternoon I was trapin' around for that water hole
over yonder about three miles--you know the one," and the Kid told of
his adventure with the "crazy Chink."
"That's him, for all the money in the world!" the deputy exclaimed.
"Lookin' for a 'chock gee' was he? I'll chock gee him if I catch him."
"Say, what's all this about a 'chock gee'?" Nort wanted to know.
"Well, it's a government immigration office paper every Chink in this
country is supposed to have, showin' they're here legitimately. Those
that haven't got 'em try to get one from another Chink, and there's
unlawful trading goin' on all the time."
"Like a passport, eh?" Billee Dobb suggested.
"Something like that. Where you men bound for--if you don't mind me
askin'?"
"To a ranch just outside of Roaring River," spoke up Bud. "My father,
over at Diamond X, bought it, and we're going to take charge."
"Your father Mr. Merkel?" Joe Hawkins asked suddenly, with new interest.
"Yes--do you know him?"
"Not exactly. But I know of him. When I heard that the Shootin' Star
was changin' hands I wrote to Mack Caffery, the boy on the job over at
Candelaria, askin' him to get in touch with the new owner. That's how
I got the name Merkel. Did your dad hear from him, do you know?"
"Yes, he did. So that's what Dad meant when he said there might be
trouble, eh? Well--we're ready for whatever comes. What do you say,
boys?"
"Right!" the others chorused.
"Say, mister, what was that there you said about two thousand dollars?"
Billee Dobb broke in.
"There's two thousand dollars' reward, offered by the government, for
the capture, dead or alive, of the head of the Chink smugglers," the
deputy said impressively.
"Two thousand bucks! Say, boys, with that you could buy yourself a new
herd of cattle, to make up somewhat for the bunch you lost!" cried
Yellin' Kid.
"We sure could--and then some," Bud agreed. "But I guess there's not
much chance of us collecting the reward. We'll be busy enough at the
ranch without trying to round up any smugglers. Say, Mr.--what did you
say your name was?"
"Hawkins--Joe Hawkins."
"Well, how about bunking with us to-night? We can all start out in the
morning together, and perhaps we'll come across your Chinese friend.
It's pretty late now, and you can't make Roaring River 'til long after
daylight."
"Well, now, men, that's right kind of you to suggest that--but I don't
want to butt in. I can just----"
"You're not butting in at all!" insisted Bud. "We'll be glad to have
you. Got a blanket?"
"Oh, I got a blanket, thanks. Thought I might need it on this Chink
hunt of mine. Well, since you boys don't mind, I'll put up my pony and
flop down here by the fire. Feels good at a time like this.
Good-night, all!"
The remainder of the night was uneventful. The six slept soundly,
tired out as they were, and with the morning they all awoke refreshed
and eager to be on the way. After a meager breakfast they set out for
the water hole the Kid knew of, as they wanted to let their steeds
drink before starting for the Shooting Star, which was the name of
their new ranch. Joe Hawkins went with them.
"What time do you calculate we'll hit the ranch, Kid?" Bud asked.
"Be there in about three hours, Bud. It isn't so far from the water
hole. Why? You anxious to begin sheep herdin'?"
"Not exactly," Bud laughed. "But I do want to see what the place looks
like. Hope we don't have to do much repairing."
"No, the Shooting Star is in pretty fair shape," Joe Hawkins said.
"Your father got a good buy--if you can get hold of it all right."
"What do you mean, get hold of it all right?" asked Bud curiously.
"Well, the feller that's got it now isn't exactly a pleasant customer.
There's something queer about him--we've been watchin' the Shooting
Star for over a month now. I couldn't say for sure that there's
anything wrong--but it looks suspicious. That's the reason I wanted to
have the government official find out who the new owner was going to
be. I'm right glad I met up with you boys. You may be able to help me
out some time."
"And collect that reward," Billee Dobb put in. His mind seemed set on
the two thousand dollars the deputy had spoken of.
"You might," admitted Hawkins. "It's waiting for the person who brings
in the head of the smuggling system."
"Well, we'll do our best," the Kid said, with a side glance at Bud.
"Say, Kid, we're not down here to capture smugglers!" cried Bud.
"We've got to take charge of the Shooting Star. Of course, if we _do_
happen to run across----"
"I knew that would get a rise out of you!" laughed the Kid. "Catch Bud
duckin' any excitement! Why, even Billee here wants to trail the
smugglers--don't you, Billee?"
"Never you mind!" came back the old rancher. "Want another race?"
"'At-ta-boy, Billee!" Nort yelled. "Guess that'll hold him! You
didn't know Billee Dobb was a champion racer, did you?" Nort said to
Hawkins.
"I didn't, no," responded the deputy with a smile. "But I believe it.
Takes old birds like us to show these youngsters up, eh, Billee?"
"Sure does!"
"Well, here we are," declared the Kid, as they came in sight of the
water hole. "Right down there is where I saw the Chink on his hands
and knees. Hey, take it easy there!" This to his pony, who strained
toward the water. "I know you're thirsty, but so are the others.
Easy--easy!" The Kid dismounted and led the panting horse toward the
water. Leaning over he filled his hat, and held it to the mouth of his
pony. "Start in on that. Slow! Or you don't get any. 'At-ta-boy.
Here's another hatful for you. Feel as though you can control yourself
now? All right--go to it!" By this time the intelligent animal got
the idea, and drank in small mouthfuls. The other ponies, restrained
by their masters from drinking too fast, did the same.
"So it was here that you saw the Chink, eh!" asked Joe Hawkins.
"Yep--right in this spot. He was leanin' over here by this little
bush, lookin' for--" the Kid stopped suddenly and picked up something
from the ground. It was a folded paper. The Kid looked it over
swiftly.
"Lookin' for--_this_!" he exclaimed, holding it out.
"What is it?"
"Let's have a look!"
The deputy walked over to the Kid.
"Mind if I see it?" he said quietly.
Without a word the Kid handed it over. He recognized the fact that it
was the deputy's right to demand it.
"That's what the Chink was looking for," Hawkins declared after a
moment. "See here! This paper----"
"Bang! Bang!"
"Duck!" cried the Kid. His hand reached for his gun as he hit the
ground.
"Bang!"
Billee's hat went sailing from his head.
"He means business!" Dick yelled. "Down, everybody!"