THE "FLYING DEMONS'" MESSAGE.
When Ted Strong stepped out on the veranda the morning after the ball he
found Stella staring curiously at a large, square piece of paper stuck
on the wall of the ranch house.
Nobody in the house had risen early, as they had all been up very late,
except Song, the cook, who, when he saw that no one was disposed to turn
out for an early breakfast, had gone out to work in the garden, in which
he had with much skill raised an abundance of vegetables that year.
"Good morning, Stella; what is so interesting?" said Ted.
"It beats me," answered Stella. "I wonder if this is one of Ben's
witticisms. If it is, he ought to be spanked."
Ted was standing by her side, reading what had been printed on the
paper.
"H'm! this is good," said he, and read aloud, as if to himself, the
following warning:
"TED STRONG AND BRONCHO BOYS: You ought to know by this time that
you are not wanted in this part of the country. Advise you to sell
out and skip. If you stay your lives will be made a hell on earth,
and we have the stuff that will do it. This is no bluff, as you
will find out if you disregard this word of friendly warning. You
will be given a short time to sell your stock, then git. This means
business.
"THE FLYING DEMONS."
"That's a pretty good effort for a lot of kids," said Ted. "Wait, here's
a watermark in the paper. Let's see what it is?"
Ted took the paper from the wall and held it up to the light.
In the paper was the representation of the fabulous monster, the
griffin, and woven into the paper were the words "Griffin Bond."
"That's as easy as shooting fish in a tub," said Ted, as he folded the
paper and put it in his pocket.
"The fellow who put that warning up certainly left his footprints behind
him," said Stella, with a smile.
"He did, but even without that I should have known the authors of it."
"How?"
Ted then told Stella the substance of the conversation between the boys
the night before, and of his suspicions as to the guilt of Creviss and
his gang in the mysterious robberies that had occurred in the two towns.
"But," he concluded, "it is not up to me to get at the matter. It is
work for the sheriff. However, if those boys try any of their
foolishness with us, we'll turn in and send them to the reform school,
where they belong."
"They're certainly a bad lot. I was talking to a lady at the 'rent rag'
last night, and she was telling me what a horrid boy young Creviss is."
"I wish I knew at what time this notice was put up here. It must have
been done in daylight, for it was getting light in the east when we
turned in."
"Perhaps some one was so quiet as to put it there while you were all
inside talking."
"I hardly think so, for we were all sitting near the fireplace, and the
room was so warm that Kit opened the door, and it stood open until we
separated to go to bed."
"Sure you could have heard them? Some of you were talking pretty loud,
for I heard you in my room just before I went to sleep."
"Well, of course, I couldn't be certain about it; but I came out on the
veranda to take a look at the sky just before I turned in, and I didn't
see it then. Surely, as I turned to come back into the house my eye
would have caught that big piece of white paper beside the door."
"What time was it that the most important part of your conversation took
place?"
"Just before we broke up. I remember we were going over the mysterious
robberies, and I expressed the opinion that they were the work of the
gang under Skip Riley and Creviss."
"That was probably the time the fellow who put up that notice was about.
You see, if he followed you from Soldier Butte he wouldn't get here much
earlier than that, for he wouldn't dare ride a pony the length of the
valley at that time of the morning, so he had to walk from the south
fence."
"By Jove! I believe you are right."
"If my theory is true, the fellow who brought the warning also carried
back your conversation to the gang."
"Then they surely will have something to fight us on."
"Yes, fear that you will get on their trail will compel them to try to
make their bluff good, as expressed in that message."
"I'd give something to know when this thing was put up."
"Let's see; it was about four o'clock when you turned in, wasn't it?"
"Just about."
"And just about that time Song gets up to cook for the boys in the bunk
house who get out to relieve the night watch in the big pasture. Doesn't
he?"
"Those are the orders."
"Then have Song in, and we'll ask him if he saw a strange man around the
place when he got up. He might have seen him and thought nothing of it,
and would never think of reporting it."
"Good idea. Wait here and I will call him."
In a few minutes the Chinaman came shuffling in from the garden."
"See here, Song," said Ted. "Did you see a strange man here early this
morning?"
"Stlange man!" said Song meditatively, with a smile of innocence on his
broad, yellow face. "No savvy stlange man."
"Man no b'long here," said Stella,
"Oh, yes, I savvy. No see stlange man."
"What time you get up?"
"Me gettee up fo' clock."
"Did you go outside?"
"Yes, me go out an' call cowbloy. Tell gettee up, P. D. Q. No gettee up,
no bleakfast."
"What did you see outside that you don't see every morning?"
"Evely moling? No savvy."
"Yesterday morning, day before that, day before that, all mornings."
"Lesterday moling, evely moling?"
"Oh, the deuce! You try him, Stella."
"Say, Song, you see something makee you flaid this moling?" said Stella,
imitating Song's pidgin English.
"Oh, yes, me lookee out, plenty jump in."
"What you see?"
"Plenty wolf. He sneakee lound side house. I lun like devil."
"What wolf look like?"
"Plenty big wolf. When he see me he lise up on hind legee, and lun likee
man."
"Ah ha! There's your clew," said Stella, turning to Ted. "The fellow who
posted this notice was disguised in a wolfskin so that he could sneak up
to the house unnoticed by the Chinaman, or, if seen, he would make a
bluff at scaring Song."
"Stella, you're a wonder."
"Say, Song, you no likee wolf?"
"No, me plenty flaid wolf," answered the Chinaman, shaking his head
violently.
"All right, Song. I givee you shotgun. Next time you see wolf, plenty
shoot. Savvy?"
"All light. You givee me gun, I shootee wolf plenty. Makee go 'ki-yi'
and lun belly fast."
Song went away with a grin on his face like a crack in a piece of stale
cheese.
"Stella, you've solved it. I believe whoever put that message there
heard our conversation, and at least they'll hate us a bit worse than
before, if that is possible."
"Let them bark, the wolves. I never was afraid of a wolf, anyhow. If you
want to throw me into spasms show me a bobcat. That's the fighting
animal."
During breakfast the boys were shown the warning that had been posted
beside the door, and it was decided to pay no attention to it, but to
watch for the appearance of a messenger from the "Flying Demons," and if
one was caught to make it hot for him.
Ted had no doubt but Creviss and his gang would try to injure the
broncho boys by every means in their power, but until they committed
some overt act the boys could hardly afford to become the aggressors.
For several days nothing happened, and the Moon Valley Ranch went the
even tenor of its way.
Preparations were under way for the fall round-up, and Ted had received
letters from several heavy stock buyers that they would be present at
that time to make their selections of such cattle as they desired to
buy.
It had always been the custom at the ranch to have an entertainment of
some sort at the ranch afterward. This was started for the purpose of
amusing the buyers with cowboy tricks and that sort of thing, but it had
developed into something far greater, until now all the world was
invited to the barbecue and the "doings" afterward. No one was barred
who behaved himself.
This year Ben Tremont had charge of the entertainment, and he was not
limited as to expense, for every fellow was on his honor to provide the
best entertainment for the least money.
The manager's plans were generally kept secret from every one except Ted
and Stella, who were the exceptional ones and were in every one's
secrets and confidence.
Ben had declared himself as to the superlative excellence of his show
this year.
"It's going to be hard to beat," said he, in boasting about it. "We've
had some pretty good shows, but nothing like the one I'm getting up
now."
Kit had charge of the cowboy end of it, the races, the bronchobusting,
the roping and tying contests; in fact, all the arena acts.
This year Clay Whipple attended to the inner man, and was to provide a
genuine old Southern barbecue, with trimmings.
The round-up was to begin in less than a week, and the festivities were
to follow immediately.
Invitations had been sent broadcast into Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming,
Idaho, Montana, and the Pacific coast States; everywhere, in fact, where
the boys had friends, and from the responses received an enormous crowd
would be present.
Three days elapsed after the finding of the warning beside the door
before anything more was heard from the Flying Demons.
Then Ted found another message from them near the front door.
It was as follows:
"TED STRONG AND OTHERS: You think you know who committed the
mysterious robberies, but you are on the wrong track. You will
never find out, while your secrets are known to us. This is warning
number two. The third and last will come soon; then look out.
"THE FLYING DEMONS."
"Now, why in the world do they call themselves the Flying Demons?" asked
Ted reflectively, as they were reading the second screed from their
enemies. "It seems to me that there is the secret of the whole thing.
You never can tell what a pack of boys like that are going to do. They
are more to be feared than older criminals, for they have no judgment,
and will rush into the most reckless things just to show off before one
another."
"Pay no attention to them," advised Stella. "That's what I think they
are doing now--showing off. I doubt if they think they can frighten us,
but they are afraid of us."
"Oh, by the way," said Ted, suddenly thinking of something. "You
remember I looked at the watermark on that first warning we received
from these terrible demons. Well, this screed has the same
mark--'Griffin Bond.' When I was in town to-day I went into the bank.
Old man Creviss was behind the counter, and that precious son of his was
beside him. I had a check cashed, and Mr. Creviss asked me why we didn't
keep our bank account there. I told him we had thought something about
it, but I didn't mention that we had decided not to. Then I asked him
for a couple of sheets of paper on which to write a note, and he handed
them to me. I took them to the window and held them up to the light to
see the watermark."
"And what was it?" asked Stella eagerly.
"The griffin."
"Then the paper on which these things were written came from the bank?"
"They certainly did. After I had looked at the watermark I turned to
young Creviss and looked him square in the eye. He turned as white as
chalk, and his lip trembled."
"He's a coward," said Stella positively. "Why didn't he bluff it out?"
"He had nothing to stand on; but, as you say, he's a rank coward, and
it's my opinion that it's only fear of Skip Riley that keeps him at it,
anyway. At all events, I gave him a good scare, for instead of writing
the note I folded up the paper and put it into my pocket. He stepped
forward as if he would interfere and make me give the paper back, not
having used it, but I gave him a glassy glare and walked out."
"Then it was he who wrote the warnings."
"Of course, and he knows that I have him dead to rights. That is another
mark against me with the gang."
"Better watch out."
"They can have me if they can get me."