DOWN AND OUT
"It's a car!" Dick cried. "Must be the smugglers' machine, and they
wrecked it and got away! Now we know they're at that ranch!"
"Wonder what happened to the Chinks?" the Kid said as he examined the
wreck more closely. The mass of twisted metal lay still in the
moonlight like some once-living thing that had met its sudden doom.
"Probably dragged them along too," Hawkins suggested. "Yep, I think
this is the smugglers' car, all right. Looks like the one we had a
short glimpse of, just before it turned off. And, if that's the case,
our plan may succeed. Having a harbor close at hand, it's natural for
them to make for it. Now it's up to us to see that they stay there
until we capture them."
"That's our job, and we'll do it too," Bud said in a determined tone of
voice. "Might as well get going. The longer we stay here, the more
time we give Delton."
"True enough," commented Dick. "I wonder if anyone was hurt when this
car crashed?"
"Doubt it," Hawkins said. "Those boys are too lucky! If they weren't
they never would have gotten away with the stunt they pulled to-night.
Imagine riding right into our hands and getting away from us! Every
time I think of it I feel like kicking myself around the block."
"It wasn't any more your fault than the fault of the rest of us," Nort
declared. "They were too many, and too clever. Let's forget it and go
after them again, and this time we'll win. What do you say, boys?"
"Sure will!"
"No more foolin' around for us!"
"Well, on our way," Bud called. He took one more look at the auto
lying on its side in a small depression, and spurred his horse onward.
The rest followed quickly. The night was well spent, now, and but
little time remained to reach the ranch and post the guard. However,
it was not far now, and by dint of hard riding, following directions
from Bud, they reached the vicinity of the ranch house in half an hour.
They halted well away from the house itself.
"Take it easy now," Hawkins cautioned. "We don't want to make too much
noise. Bud, have you and Dick decided what you're to do?"
"Practically--he is going to take one side, and I'm to take the other,
and if we see anyone come out we'll fire over their heads. That'll
keep 'em in all right, for they can't see us in the dark. No one likes
to be fired on by someone he can't see--as we all found out. Now it's
time to give them some of their own medicine."
"Yes sir!" exclaimed the Kid. "I wish I could stay with you, Dick, and
have a crack at them myself."
"You come along with us, Kid. We'll be back before dawn, and you'll
see plenty of action then. Now is there anything you boys want before
we leave?" asked the secret service man.
"Might bring back a snack for us," Bud suggested. "It's cold and
hungry work waiting in the dark. Not that we mind it," he added
quickly, "as long as it helps capture Delton. And if you can make it,
Mr. Hawkins, please get back as soon as you can. They may try to make
a rush for it."
"We will--we'll be back as soon as we get things right at the ranch and
maybe snatch an hour's rest. Depends on how much time we have. But
we'll surely be back before it's light."
This conversation was being carried on near a small group of trees,
just out of sight of the old farm or ranch house. Now Hawkins and the
rest turned their ponies toward home. Dick and Bud, of course, were
due to remain and watch Delton's retreat.
"Now we're on our own," Bud said as he listened to the hoof-beats of
the horses gradually dying away. "Let's get up to where we can see the
house."
"What about the broncs? Think we better leave them?"
"Well, what do you think? We want them near us so we can get going
quick if we have to. Suppose we tie them as close to the house as we
can without being seen?"
"That's a good idea. Well, there's the place. Somebody's sure in it.
All lit up!"
The boys stood and looked at the old farm house which loomed in the
moonlight before them. It was certainly inhabited, for several lights
were glowing on the ground floor, and every now and then a figure would
pass in front of the lamps, casting a shadow plainly visible from the
outside.
"Got a lot of nerve, walking around like that in front of lamps," Bud
commented. "Easy to take a pot-shot at them."
"Guess they don't figure us as the kind for that sort of thing," Dick
responded. "And we're not, either--though it would serve them right if
someone did let ride at the window."
The two boys now took up their positions agreed upon--Dick around to
the left, and Bud to the right. They were thus separated from each
other by about three hundred yards.
"Mustn't start thinking foolish things!" Dick exclaimed to himself.
"Got enough on my mind now." He shook his head as though to rid it of
fancies which hung around it. The boy was certainly not of a morbid
type, and it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be a
bit uneasy, considering his situation. Yet he would not even admit to
himself that he was anything but wholly composed.
"Wonder how Bud is making out?" he thought. "Perhaps I'd better sneak
over and see. But no, there's no sense in that." Thus did he dismiss
the craving for company. "Besides, I've got my job cut out for me
here."
He looked more intently at the house, seeking to concentrate his
attention on the everyday affairs of life. Smuggling. The reward if
they caught Delton. What they could do with it. A new herd of cows.
The Kid's bronc--whether he would see it again. How Delton timed the
arrival at the Shooting Star ranch just when the smuggling car got
there. The getaway. How it did rain!
Still, in spite of himself, that uneasy feeling was stealing over the
boy. Surely there was no one around but Bud, away over on the other
side. Of course it was night, but there was plenty of moonlight, and
there was not much chance of Delton's men prowling about. Perhaps it
was because there were trees back of him that Dick felt restless.
Might be better to move more out in the open.
The boy arose, then suddenly froze into stillness. That peculiar
feeling that there was someone behind him became stronger.
It seemed as though a pair of eyes were boring into his back. He
listened intently. Suddenly he heard a voice.
"Hey, Dick!"
The boy turned swiftly, hand on his every nerve a quiver!
"It's me, Dick! Billee Dobb!"
What a relief! The boy now recognized the old rancher's voice, and the
next moment Billee appeared, walking as noiselessly as possible.
"What on earth are you doing here, Billee?"
"I decided to come back. Didn't want to miss all the fun."
"Yes, but you weren't supposed to, were you?"
"I told Hawkins, an' he said go ahead. So here I am."
"So I see." Dick could now afford to laugh at his foolish fears. "But
let me tell you, you gave me a thrill for a moment. Now that you're
here, what are you going to do?"
"Watch with you. That's what I came back for."
"Nice of you to do it, Billee. What time is it, do you know?"
"'Bout two. Lots of time yet."
The rancher was observing the activity within the old house. Nothing
could be seen but the passing and re-passing of the figures in front of
the windows, but for some reason it appeared that more persons were
moving about.
"Looks as though something was goin' to happen," Billee commented in a
low voice.
"Think so? Well, we've just got to wait, that's all."
The time passed slowly. Billee and Dick were observing the situation
within the house as best they might, without necessarily exposing
themselves.
"Say, Dick," said the veteran rancher after an hour that seemed like a
year, "I'm goin' to investigate."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a-goin' up and have a look inside an' see what's happenin'."
"I don't know, Billee--they might spot you and let ride with some lead."
"Don't worry about that, Dick. They'll never know I'm there. Now you
wait here an' I'll be right back."
"Well, for the love of Pete, be careful! We don't want anything to go
wrong."
"Nothin's goin' wrong. Now you wait."
Billee Dobb moved softly in the direction of the ranch house, walking
so easily it seemed as though he were stepping on wool. Unlike most
other punchers, who spend most of their time on horseback, Billee was
exceptionally surefooted. Much tramping about the country did that for
him, and there were some who said he had been active in Indian warfare,
long ago. He would be the first to deny this, however, as it would add
too much to his age.
So while Dick waited impatiently, the rancher went toward the house,
shoulders low, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. The
distance between the house and where Dick was waiting was not far, but
it was all open, and with the moon lighting up the scene almost like
day, a person crossing might be easily seen.
Nearer and nearer Billee crept. Dick could see him picking his way
like a dancer, so that he might step on no branch or twig which would
break and give him away. Now he was almost at the side of the house.
Dick saw him lean forward and cautiously peer in the window.
Then it happened. Dick saw a flash of fire from within the room, and
the roar of a gun awakened the stillness of the night. Billee
staggered back. He fell to the ground, but was up in a moment, and ran
swaying toward Dick. The door of the house flew open, and a man with a
gun in his hand burst out on the porch. Like a flash Dick had his gun
out and fired. The man ducked back as the bullet struck the side of
the house with a resounding "ping!"
With a supreme effort Billee reached the shelter of the trees. Dick
ran to him. The old man's face was twisted with pain, and he sank to
the earth.
"Dick--Dick--" he gasped, "they got me! They got me! I'm
down--and--out!"