RUSTLERS
“Oh, how I love to get up in the morning,” sang Janet between yawns as
she stumbled from the tent with Carol close behind her. “Hullo, are we
getting company?”
Two cowboys on dust covered, lathered ponies had dashed into the camp
circle and pulled their mounts up short beside the campfire. Jim who had
been on his knees poking at the ashes to stir the flames to life got up
slowly with a wide grin of welcome. Tom joined the four and Virginia,
coming from the tent, greeted them also.
“Let’s get an earful,” Carol proposed. “Evidently they are riders from
the K Bar O.”
“Then ya didn’ see anythin’ of ’em?” one of the new arrivals was
murmuring to Tom.
“Not a thing, Lem,” Tom replied with a serious frown. “How many did they
get?”
“Close to a hundred head, I reckon,” Lem declared viciously.
“By now they are across the border,” Virginia murmured. “Why did you
look for them up here near the hills?”
“A couple of the boys went toward the border,” Lem’s partner answered.
“We found a trail leadin’ up this way.”
“They didn’t pass near here or we would have seen them,” Virginia said
again and her brother and Jim nodded in agreement.
“Then we got to be goin’ farther,” Lem said remounting his pony.
“But can’t you wait and have a bite of breakfast?” Tom wanted to know.
“Not now, son,” Lem replied. “We’ll eat a cold snack from our saddle
bags. We want to find those birds before the trail is gone.”
“Wish you luck,” Jim sang out as the ponies darted forward.
“Who were they?” Phyllis asked as she, with Gale and Valerie, appeared.
“Riders from the Lazy K,” Virginia answered. “Rustlers stole close to a
hundred cattle last night. They were following them.”
“But they didn’t bring the cattle up this way, did they?” Carol put in.
“No, but the boys figured some of the riders came this way. I hope they
catch ’em,” Virginia said viciously. “We’re probably due for a raid
tonight.”
Jim and Tom said nothing as they busied themselves getting breakfast
ready. Whatever thoughts they may have had on the subject, they kept to
themselves.
Breakfast was eaten, for the most part, in silence. Even when camp was
struck and they started on their way again, there was not the usual
light-hearted banter and teasing. Each one realized that the situation
at the K Bar O and other ranches was coming to a head. Rustlers had been
busy too long. Now the ranchers were acting. Instead of going to the
ranch for safety from rustlers and bandits, it seemed that the girls
were running into more trouble. Jim led the way, silent and foreboding.
Tom brought up the rear with the pack horses. He too was silent and
grim. It was their attitude that brought home to the girls just how
serious the situation was.
Along about noon Jim’s horse developed a limp that necessitated their
moving more slowly. After deliberation they decided to camp for the rest
of the day and night. Perhaps by the morrow Jim’s horse would be well
again and they could travel at an increased pace. Now there was an
undisguised desire to get back to the ranch house prevalent with all of
them. Things were undoubtedly happening there and the girls wanted to be
in on the excitement. They thought it high time the ranchers got busy
and did something about their stolen cattle. The authorities had failed
to capture the thieves so it was up to the ranchers themselves.
After camp was made Val took her sketching board and went off by herself
to draw. Gale had not unsaddled her horse and now she mounted him for a
ride.
“Not that there is much to see,” Virginia laughed when Gale started out.
“Just sagebrush, rocks, and trees.”
Gale liked to be alone sometimes and now she did not feel the need of
the companionship of any of her friends. Once in a while the other girls
thought her a little strange when she went off by herself. But there was
nothing strange about her. Gale was the sort of person who is not
dependent upon other people. She could spend a whole day by herself and
not be bored with her own company. She couldn’t see why some people had
to always travel with a crowd, always have a lot of other people with
them. She could enjoy a walk, a movie, or a ride just as much alone as
with others. Of course it was fun to travel with a group, but she
enjoyed a day all to herself quite as much. When she was alone she could
really think.
Gale reined her horse in and looked back at the valley she had just
left. She could see all her friends like moving spots against the dull
gray and olive background. On the other side, the way she faced, a long
flat plain stretched out to the right while on the left was a forest of
cottonwoods and fir trees. There was a narrow trail leading down from
her position on the crest of the hill through the woods and she urged
her horse forward. As she rode, she had to bend low in the saddle to
keep from being slapped in the face by low hanging branches.
Occasionally she saw a rabbit or a squirrel, but for the most part
everything was still.
Her horse was young and frisky and jogged along with light, prancing
step. Gale was enjoying herself hugely with no thought of the passing of
time. Her surroundings were quiet and inspiring and, as usual with Gale
in such circumstances, she was dreaming of a thousand and one things
other than the present. When the girls got back to Marchton they would
start their last year in the Marchton High School. The next year they
started college. As yet the girls had not firmly decided on the school
to which they would go after high school days. They were concerned now
with ideas of what to do and be when they were finally all through with
school. They all firmly resolved that they wanted careers, but just what
those careers were to be was a little undecided. Of course it was
understood that Val would continue with her art. She was really the only
one of them all that had a talent of any kind to which she could cling.
Long and repeatedly the girls had discussed the subject of careers. What
_could_ they be? Artists? Only Val could do justice to that branch of
work. Actresses then? Well, perhaps Phyllis would go in for the Drama.
Madge, Carol, and Janet were totally at sea, as was Gale herself.
Gale had always thought she might like to be a doctor. But just the
thought of all the years of study and preparation ahead of her was a
little disheartening. She liked the study of medicine and had always
been interested in it. At first she thought of being a nurse, but now
she didn’t like that idea. The thought of being a doctor was much more
intriguing. Doctors led such fascinating lives, she thought. In her rush
of enthusiasm and ardor she didn’t reckon with the long, tedious hours
the doctor devotes to his patients, nor the fact that he has little free
time for himself. Then, too, she would like to be a sculptor. She liked
to model things in clay and she was sure she could chisel interesting
things from marble if given the chance. She sighed and urged her horse
along a little faster. It was really quite a problem deciding what to
be. At any rate, whatever she went into, she wanted to go into it full
of enthusiasm and willingness to work and do her best. She had no
intention of idling her life away. She wanted to do something, to be
somebody, to be proud of her achievements whatever they might be. She
was resolved that she would forge ahead to success and make a name for
herself. After all, why not? Other people had started out with nothing
and made themselves famous.
A huge drop of water on the back of her neck brought her back sharply to
the problem at hand. Riding along and musing with herself, she had not
noticed the dark clouds that had gathered overhead from nowhere. Now as
her horse came out into an open clearing, rain began pouring down. She
could not hope to get back to camp before the worst of the storm broke.
If this heavy downpour continued, she would be drenched in a minute.
Wildly she looked about for shelter of some kind. Through the trees to
the left she saw a log cabin, not much of a building, but enough to
afford shelter in the storm. To the rear she found a sheltered hitching
post where she tied her mount and ran back to the main cabin.
One step inside she stopped and glanced around. She had had the
strangest premonition when she stepped over the threshold. It was as if
she had a warning of something dreadful about to happen. The room--there
was only one--was empty of all but its meager furnishings, a table and
two makeshift chairs standing before the fireplace. A saddle and rifle
lay in one corner. On the table were a few dirty dishes. Someone had
been here lately, if they were not here now. She had seen no horse when
she tethered her own, but there was a saddle and, more ominous still,
the rifle. Where was the owner?
The rain was teeming down outside and she went to the window to stare
out. A regular cloudburst! Tomorrow a lot of the little streams they had
passed would be raging, swirling rivers. She was glad this cabin had
been here or else she would have been drenched. She smiled as she
thought of how her camp mates might be receiving this sudden rain. They
would no doubt be huddled in the waterproof tents, but nevertheless they
would be fuming with disgust. It was no pleasure camping out when it
rained. She looked up at the gray skies, impatient to be off and away
from this cabin that filled her with that strange, unreasonable fear.
Why should she feel fear the moment she stepped into the place? There
was no one here. Not a thing to frighten her. Yet she was filled with a
strange uneasiness. Evidently her horse had felt it too, for when she
had tied him he whinnied faintly and nudged her arm with mute appeal.
She had thought nothing of it at the time, but now it came back to her
with ominous warning. Animals had keen instinct and the horse had felt a
distrust of this place. She wished heartily it would stop raining so she
could go on. She didn’t want to get wet and she didn’t want to stay
here.
She shook her shoulders impatiently and went over to inspect the rifle
in the corner. Probably she was imagining things. It was the first time
she had let her imagination make her afraid of anything. She was being
silly she told herself again sternly. Most likely this cabin had been
deserted for a long time. But when she picked up the rifle she knew that
wasn’t so. The rifle was clean and recently oiled. Too, it was loaded.
It was the same make rifle as Tom carried in his saddle sheath and quite
without knowing why she took the cartridges out of the barrel to examine
them. At the same moment she looked up through the window to the trail
she had so recently left for this shelter.
Terror gripped her for a moment. Horsemen were issuing from the thick
growth of trees and there was no disputing the identity of the first
man. It was the bank bandit who had held Val and her prisoners in that
other cabin. She dropped the rifle over the saddle where it had been and
looked about wildly for a means of escape. Were they close enough to see
her if she slipped out of the door? Of course they were! In the rear
wall was a window. She placed a chair beneath it and a moment later was
squeezing through the opening. Rain or no rain, she preferred to get wet
to remaining in the cabin to receive those men. How had they managed to
elude the Sheriff and his men so long? Were the bank bandits connected
with the rustlers who had been stealing cattle from the K Bar O? Gale
made a shrewd guess that they were.
When she jumped from the window to the wet earth Gale ran immediately to
where her pony was tied and, slipping her arm through the reins, led him
back into the woods to the rear of the cabin. She was sure the thick
growth of trees and brush would shield them from view and that proved to
be the case. The trees overhead were a little protection from the rain,
but even so, when she had been in the open five minutes she was soaked.
She had left her slicker in the camp and now she wished fervently she
had let it remain rolled behind her saddle. She heard the thunder of
hoofs and sound of voices as the men she had eluded dismounted at the
cabin and entered it. Surprised, she looked down at her hand. She still
had the two shells from the rifle clutched in her fingers. She had
departed in such haste that she didn’t have time to replace them;
indeed, she had not even thought of them. Now she shoved them deep into
her breeches’ pocket and huddled beside her horse.
It would be better to get into the saddle and ride than to stand here in
the rain, but she was sure the sound of her horse’s hoofs would be
clearly audible to those men in the cabin and they would be sure to
investigate. Too, she had an idea. It would be a big help to her uncle
if she could, in some fashion, determine if these were the men who were
stealing cattle from the ranchers. Perhaps, now that she had stumbled
upon their cache, she could spy on them and learn something of interest
to the authorities. It was worth trying. She would wait until it grew
dark and then sneak up and endeavor to listen to their conversation and
to obtain a glimpse of the men within the cabin.
Her horse whinnied softly and she put an admonishing hand on his muzzle
while her heart raced with apprehension. Suppose one of the men heard
him and came to see---- But they were undoubtedly too busy and besides,
they might think it one of their own horses. Still, it would be best to
be on the safe side. She led her horse farther into the woods and there
tied him to a cottonwood. She was hungry. She remembered she had had
only a light lunch but she remembered, too, that she had put something
in her saddle bag just in case she wanted an afternoon snack. It came in
handy now. She found two lumps of sugar, also, which the horse promptly
snuggled from her hand.
Another thought came to her and she bent down to her boot. Her little
revolver still nestled in its customary place. She might have use for it
tonight, she reflected. Suppose the men were the rustlers and suppose
she did make sure of that fact. How was she to notify the authorities?
By the time she got back to her camp and told Jim and Tom and they
summoned the Sheriff or some of his men the rustlers would have ample
time to get away. What was she to do? With a shrug of her shoulders she
dismissed the thought. Everything would take care of itself she was
sure.