A CLUE
As the automobile careened along the dusty road, a strained silence
settled over the occupants. The only sounds were the muffled exhaust
of the motor and the squeaking and groaning of the springs as the
car bounced its way toward the X Bar X.
Bug Eye and Roy were in the front seat and Mr. Manley and the two
girls were seated in the rear. Teddy was supporting himself upon a
rear door of the touring car, clenching the sides to hold his place
against the joltings of the flivver, and bent almost double to avoid
hitting the roof whenever Bug Eye dived into a particularly deep
rut.
Thoughts of the loss of the ponies were uppermost in the minds of
all. Bug Eye, used to Western ways, did not press Mr. Manley as to
his plan of action. He knew the cattle owner would prefer to keep
whatever opinions he had until he reached the X Bar X and could get
his men together. Bug Eye, belonging to another outfit, could have
no concern in the matter until Mr. Manley asked for his help, at
which time the cowboy would lend willing aid. Such is the code of
the West.
Ethel, wedged in between Nell and Mr. Manley, stole a glance at
Teddy as the boy braced himself upon the edge of the car door, his
shoulders hunched, his body swaying with the motion of the machine,
his eyes staring moodily out at the dust-covered bushes at the side
of the road. She noticed how hard and brown was the hand that
clenched the top of the door. The mouth, widened into a happy grin
when she had first seen it, was now drooped at the corners. The
bronzed forehead, below the sombrero, was drawn into a frown.
Ethel nudged Nell with her elbow.
“Doesn’t it seem quiet out here, after the city?” she murmured, with
another glance at Teddy.
The boy looked at her quickly.
“You mean us, I guess,” he said, grinning slightly. “We haven’t been
very polite, have we? But, you see, it kind of hurts to lose a pony
you’ve had for so long. I--”
“Of course, I know just how you feel!” Ethel burst out impulsively.
“It’s a shame! You just go after those--those rustlers, and get your
horses back!”
“We will,” Teddy answered grimly. “At least, we’ll do our best. But
there’s no use crying over spilt milk.”
“That’s the way I feel about it, son,” Mr. Manley said quietly.
“We’ll do all we can to get the broncs back! When we’re ready, I
want you and Roy to come along with me. As soon as we reach home
we’ll get other ponies and be on our way.” He pulled the ends of his
mustache and settled down once more into silence.
Teddy knew this mood of his father. He had seen it twice before,
once, years ago, when a puncher had knocked Roy down, and once when
a cowboy, with a misshapen idea of humor, had coaxed Teddy upon the
back of the worst horse on the ranch, a real “man-eater.” On each of
these occasions certain things had happened which directly affected
the person in error.
When the car reached Bitter Cliff lookout, Bug Eye slowed down and
stopped for a moment.
“Look there!” he said laconically, waving his arm in a wide gesture.
Nell leaned forward, then uttered a slight exclamation.
“What’s the matter?” Roy asked, smiling.
“It’s so--so close and high!” the girl answered, with a motion of
her hands. “Why, it almost seems as though I could reach out and
touch the chimney of that house away off there!”
“You try it,” Teddy said, with a chuckle. “That’s six miles away!
Those buildings are on the X Bar X ranch--our place. Over to the
west, where you see that other corral, is the 8 X 8, where you’re
going.”
“Bug Eye,” Mr. Manley said gently, “if it’s all the same to you,
we’d better get goin’.”
“Right!” Bug Eye answered. He advanced the gasoline control and the
flivver again shot forward.
The moment they reached the ranch yard of the X Bar X, Mr. Manley
leaped from the car. A cowboy, who was leaning against the corral
fence, craned his neck forward in surprise. The boss riding in an
auto!
“Nick,” Mr. Manley called sharply to the puncher, “our broncs have
been rustled. We’re goin’ out after ’em! You and Gus Tripp get your
ponies an’ three others for Roy an’ Teddy an’ me. Bring your guns.”
Short, terse sentences. Mr. Manley was no longer a cattle owner. He
was a cowboy, whose pony had been stolen.
“Right!” Nick Looker answered. He disappeared around the corner of
the bunk-house.
As Mr. Manley walked rapidly towards the ranch house, he called back
over his shoulder:
“Nell an’ Ethel, we all expect you over for a visit. Excuse me
runnin’ away like this. Teddy, fetch in my bag.”
“Dad means business,” Roy said in a low voice. “Having General
stolen has hit him pretty hard. There’s mother.”
A woman’s figure appeared on the porch of the house, and in a moment
she was enfolded in Mr. Manley’s arms. Mrs. Manley’s eyes widened in
surprise when she saw the auto and missed the horses; and Mr. Manley
explained briefly what had occurred. Questions were trembling on her
lips, but she did not delay her husband with them. Mr. Manley kissed
her again, and, turning, rushed into the house.
As Mrs. Manley walked toward the auto, Nell and Ethel could scarcely
believe that this radiant young-looking woman was the mother of two
big boys.
“Welcome to the West,” she said, with a smile, as she extended a
hand to each of the girls. “Mr. Manley has told me who you are. This
is Ethel, isn’t it? And Nell?” Ethel instantly noticed how much, in
a curious way, both Roy and Teddy resembled her. Teddy had her
blonde hair and blue eyes. Roy had her sensitive, fine mouth.
Belle Ada, the sister of Roy and Teddy, now came out of the house
and toward the car, evidently having been told by Mr. Manley that
there were visitors. As she was introduced, she mentally decided
that she liked Nell and Ethel. That was like Belle Ada--impulsive
and eager to make friends.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to go now,” Nell said, after a few moments’
conversation. “Uncle Peter will be waiting for us.”
“But you will come over and visit me?” Belle Ada asked, her dark
eyes on the two girls.
“Of course we will!” Ethel answered. “As soon as we can!”
Teddy seized his father’s bag from the rear of the auto, and he and
Teddy shook hands with the girls. Bug Eye jammed down the pedal. The
car leaped forward. As it swung about, the girls leaned out and
waved farewells.
“Pretty nice!” Roy said, as he watched the car being swallowed up in
a cloud of dust. “Pretty nice!”
Mrs. Manley smiled. Then, remembering what her husband had told her
on the porch, the smile left her face.
“Boys, you go in and speak to your father,” she said. “He wants to
tell you something. Belle and I will walk around to the garden and
wait until you come out. You--you will be careful if you ride with
him after those rustlers, won’t you?” Her eyes held an anxious
light.
“Don’t worry, Mom!” Teddy cried, kissing his mother affectionately.
“We’ll be all right. There’s no danger!”
The two boys walked stiffly toward the house.
“Wonder what it is?” Teddy mused. “You know, I have a hunch that dad
found out more from those fellows down at the corral in Eagles than
he told.”
“Maybe,” came from Roy. “We’ll soon know.”
They met their father coming out of the front door. His “city
clothes” had been changed for a pair of leather chaps and a flannel
shirt, open at the neck. Across one arm he carried a rifle.
“Want us, Dad?” Roy asked.
“Yes. Before we start, I want to tell you something. Teddy, you
remember Gilly Froud, don’t you?”
“I do,” Teddy remarked in a low voice. His eyes flashed.
“Well, when I talked with those men down by the station, one of them
said he saw a man with a scar on his face leading our broncs. Did
Froud have a scar on his face?”
“He sure did,” Teddy answered excitedly. “On the left side.”
Mr. Manley thought for a moment. Then he said:
“I kind o’ thought that’s how it was. Boys, we have a clue! We may
get those broncs back after all! Come on, let’s go! Nick! Where in
thunder is Nick? Bring those ponies around!”