A NIGHT ALARM
"Well, Dick, how they coming?"
Bud Merkel urged his pony up alongside the mount of his cousin and gave
young Shannon a friendly poke in the ribs.
"Oh, everything's fine, Bud," responded Dick.
"How about you, Nort?"
"I'm sitting pretty," was the response from the other boy rancher.
"That's good," and Bud began to whistle a lively air. "Thought maybe
you were getting tired of the trip."
"What, so soon? And we've only been on the trail three days!"
exclaimed Nort. "What do you think we are--tenderfeet?"
"Sure not!" replied Bud. "But this is one of the longest trips we've
ever taken without something happening, and I thought maybe you two
were getting discouraged."
"Nothing to it!" chuckled Dick. "As you say, nothing much has really
happened, but we've been having a fine time since we started out from
Diamond X."
"And there's still plenty of time for things to happen before we get to
Dot and Dash and see what Death Valley looks like," suggested Nort.
"You said it, kid!" exclaimed Snake Purdee who, with Old Billee Dobb on
one flank, and Yellin' Kid on the other, was trailing the three boys
along the rough and dusty trail. "There's plenty of time yet for
things to happen."
It was their third day of travel since Mr. Merkel had sent the boys and
the older ranch hands off to take possession of his new place
concerning which Billee had told such sinister tales. The first day
was uneventful if you eliminate the fact that the pack of one of the
led horses came loose, spilling the outfit on the ground. But it was
easily salvaged though it took some little time to pursue and rope the
horse who seemed inclined to take a holiday.
The first night saw the travelers camping under the glorious stars and
though, as a matter of precaution the boys insisted on standing guard,
it was not necessary. Aside from the distant howling of coyotes, not a
sound disturbed their slumbers.
They traveled on the next day, stopping to cook their dinner over an
open fire and the boys declared they had even beaten Ma Merkel at the
cooking game. Though Billee Dobb was heard to complain that the beans,
which Dick passed to him, somehow lacked the home ranch flavor.
They were now on their third day of travel, after two uneventful nights
spent in the open, and, so far, nothing had happened. Truth to tell,
Dick and Nort were beginning to get a bit discouraged. They had heard
much about the great and glorious west before coming to live at Diamond
X and the things that happened shortly after they arrived were quite
"up to sample," as Dick used to remark. And in the succeeding seasons
they passed with Bud, riding fence, helping at the round-ups and at the
cutting out of cattle for shipment, enough had taken place to satisfy
any reasonable lad.
So it was not without reason that Dick and Nort expected something
startling to happen after they had started on this expedition.
Especially after what Billee Dobb had told them concerning Death Valley.
"But we haven't had any trouble since that one load was spilled,"
complained Dick as he and his brother and cousin rode along together.
"Are you looking for trouble?" chuckled Bud.
"Well, I'd like enough to keep from getting lonesome," was the reply.
"You take it now----"
Dick's remarks were suddenly interrupted for, at that moment, his pony
felt its left forefoot slipping into the burrow of a prairie dog. And
in shifting and struggling to keep from going down the pony neatly
shook Dick from the saddle and deposited him in a heap alongside the
trail.
"Ride 'im, cowboy!" shouted Yellin' Kid.
"Say, this is no rodeo!" chuckled Bud.
"Are you hurt?" Nort anxiously inquired, spurring to his brother, who
was scrambling to his feet. The pony, after running on a little way,
came to a stop for the reins slipped down over its head and this was
sufficient signal to cause a halt.
"Hurt? Shucks, no!" cried Dick. "'Tisn't the first time I've had a
fall." Nor was it. Suddenly leaving the saddle was something a cowboy
must count on any time of the night or day. And there are ways of
falling off gracefully, and without damage, just as there are in
submitting to a football tackle. Dick and Nort had learned how to
protect themselves.
"Well, something happened then all right!" chuckled Bud as he rode on
to capture Dick's pony and lead him back to the unseated ranch lad.
"Thanks, but I don't care for just that kind of happening," and Dick
laughed as he vaulted into the saddle and the travelers kept on their
way. Because of the fact that they had with them several led horses,
carrying packs containing food and other supplies, their progress was
necessarily slow.
"Well, we're half way there, I guess, aren't we, Billee?" asked Bud
when, late that afternoon, they reached a place in a grove of trees
amid the foothills where it seemed a good place to make camp for the
night.
"Leetle more'n half way," admitted the old puncher.
"That's good!" sighed Dick. "I'm anxious to see what we'll find in
Death Valley."
"Do you know, Billee, I've got another idea," remarked Bud as the
horses were picketed and preparations begun for cooking supper. "I
mean about the mysterious deaths of men and cattle you say you saw
while you were a hand on Dot and Dash."
"Yes, I seen 'em all right!" declared Billee with more force than
grammar.
"I'm not doubting that," admitted Bud. "Though you don't know what
killed 'em. But I got an idea."
"What?" chorused Nort and Dick.
"A poison spring!" exclaimed Bud. "I mean bad water. You know there's
a lot of it out this way, and especially as we get into the mineral
district, where dad's new ranch is located. Maybe there were poison
springs on Dot and Dash, Billee, and the men you saw lying dead, and
also the cattle, might have drunk from them. Couldn't it happen that
way?"
"Yes, it _could_," admitted Billee with an emphasis which showed his
doubt. "But I never heard tell of no bad water on Dot and Dash."
"But maybe we can find some," went on Bud.
"Find bad water--poison springs! Sufferin' horned toads, what you want
to do that for?" roared Yellin' Kid.
"To prove my point," answered Bud, "and to locate such places and fence
'em off so there won't be any more deaths. If dad is going to develop
this ranch he doesn't want bad water on it."
"You're right! I didn't think of that," admitted the cowboy. "The kid
may be right, Billee," he went on.
"Yes, he _may_ be," admitted the veteran with that same emphasis of
doubt. "And it's true enough the Boss wants to develop this new ranch.
He said, if we could get it going, he'd buy a big herd and raise cattle
down there. But first Death Valley has got to be cleaned up, and
that's certain!"
"And cleaning up Death Valley and solving the mystery is just what we
are going to do!" declared Bud. "How about it, boys?" and he turned to
his cousins.
"We're with you!" echoed Nort and Dick in chorus.
After the meal, and as darkness began to fall, the travelers sat about
the campfire, the dancing flames of which cast flickering shadows over
their faces. The men were smoking and the boys talked among
themselves, speculating over the mystery and occasionally listening to
the conversation of Billee, Snake and Yellin' Kid.
"Well, I'm goin' to turn in!" Billee announced at last as he rose and
started for his blankets. As the air was warm and dry they had not
erected the small tent which was carried.
"Shall we stand guard?" asked Nort.
"What in the name of Tunket for?" asked Snake. "What good did it do
you to have sentry-go the other nights?"
"None," admitted Bud. "Guess there isn't much sense in it."
"What do you say, Billee?" asked Nort.
"Anybody what wants to stay awake all night listenin' to them pesky
coyotes has my permission!" chuckled the old man. "As for me, I'm
going to pound my ear," and he prepared to crawl into his bed.
"We'll let it go," Bud decided and his cousins were not at all averse
to this, for it was no fun for one member of the trio to lose even a
few hours' sleep while waiting to call his relief to take the nest
trick.
Accordingly, a little later, all six of the travelers were peacefully
slumbering, while the restless horses moved about the length of their
picket ropes, picking what herbage they could reach.
It happened to be Dick who was suddenly awakened at what he judged to
be the middle of the night. And the manner of his awakening was this.
He seemed to be dreaming that he was buying a new pair of shoes and,
after having tried on several tentative pairs in a shop, the salesman,
who was attired in the full regalia of a cowboy, gave Dick's left foot
a sharp kick as if to indicate that he should remove the shoe from it.
This kick was so realistic that it awakened the youth and he sat up,
his eyes barely open, but feeling a distinct pain in his left foot.
"That was some vivid dream," Dick was murmuring to himself when he
suddenly became aware that some one was moving away from him--a dark
figure barely seen in the shadows of the night--shadows cast by the
flickering embers of the fire. And then, in a rush, there came to the
young rancher the meaning of this night alarm. It had been partly a
dream and partly an actual happening.
Some one had stepped over him as he lay in his blankets and had kicked
his foot, causing the dream to merge into reality.
"Who are you?" cried Dick sharply, reaching for his gun.