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[Illustration: Plainly branded on the flank of the dead animal
was the sign manual, a bar, and the letter S.]
THE BRONCHO RIDER BOYS ON THE WYOMING TRAIL
Or
A Mystery of the Prairie Stampede
by
FRANK FOWLER
Author of "The Broncho Rider Boys Down in Arizona," "The Broncho Rider
Boys at Keystone Ranch," "The Bronco Rider Boys Along the Border,"
A. L. Burt Company
New York.
Copyright, 1914
by A. L. Burt Company
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.--ALONG THE WYOMING TRAIL.
CHAPTER II.--THE STRANGE ACTIONS OF JUPITER.
CHAPTER III.--THE FIRST NEWS OF THE BAR-S RANCH.
CHAPTER IV.--THE NIGHT ALARM.
CHAPTER V.--THE STAMPEDE.
CHAPTER VI.--TO STAND BY A CHUM.
CHAPTER VII.--FOLLOWING THE CATTLE RUSTLERS.
CHAPTER VIII.--THE CORRAL IN BITTERSWEET COULIE.
CHAPTER IX.--READY TO ACT.
CHAPTER X.--CLEVER WORK.
CHAPTER XI.--LAYING PLANS.
CHAPTER XII.--DRIVING THE STAMPEDED STOCK HOME.
CHAPTER XIII.--ADRIAN HIRES MORE HELP.
CHAPTER XIV.--THE LAME PILGRIM ON THE TRAIL.
CHAPTER XV.--FACE TO FACE AT THE CORRAL.
CHAPTER XVI.--A THREATENING STORM.
CHAPTER XVII.--ADRIAN TAKES THE REINS.
CHAPTER XVIII.--THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS.
CHAPTER XIX.--BILLIE HAS SUSPICIONS.
CHAPTER XX.--ALMOST CAUGHT.
CHAPTER XXI.--MR. THOMAS IS AMUSED.
CHAPTER XXII.--SAFE IN THE CORRAL.
CHAPTER XXIII.--TO HAVE AND TO HOLD.
CHAPTER XXIV.--TREACHERY.
CHAPTER XXV.--ADRIAN MAKES A STAND.
CHAPTER XXVI.--A BOLD PROPOSAL.
CHAPTER XXVII.--TRAPPED.
CHAPTER XXVIII.--COUNTING THE MINUTES.
CHAPTER XXIX.--THE COMING OF THE RUSTLERS.
CHAPTER XXX.--WHEN THE SHERIFF CAME--CONCLUSION.
THE BRONCHO RIDER BOYS ON THE WYOMING TRAIL
CHAPTER I.
ALONG THE WYOMING TRAIL.
"Getting near the end of our long ride, ain't we, Adrian?"
"Another night out ought to finish our great gallop from the Arizona
border away up into the Wyoming cattle country, Billie."
"Huh! mebbe I ain't just glad to hear that news now. This broncho riding
business may be all very well for a while; but a fellow can get too
much, even of a good thing; ain't that so, Donald?"
"I've found that out myself many a time, and 'specially around the
Christmas stuffing season, Billie. But you'll admit that our horses have
held out well. Wireless is about as willing as when we started from my
home weeks back."
"That's right, and so is Jupiter here, which is a wonder, considering
that I'm nearly as heavy as my two saddle chums combined. Time was when
Jupiter kept me guessing which way he had made up his mind to throw me
off; but he don't act like a crazy thing any more."
"No, you cured him of that trick, all right, Billie, though we thought
he'd break that stubborn neck of yours in the bargain," laughed the boy
called Adrian.
"And you stick to the saddle like a burr these days, because you can
ride just as well as--well, you can eat, which is going some, if I do say
it," went on the third of the young riders, whom the fat boy had called
Donald.
Billie laughed merrily, showing that he was a good-natured chap, and
could take a joke, even when it was on himself, which is more than some
lads are able to do, the more the pity.
While they plod on in this way, heading toward a group of houses where
they hoped to find a wayside tavern at which they might secure some sort
of a lunch, for they did not wish to stop to do any cooking at noon, we
may as well take advantage of the opportunity to introduce these three
lively boys to those readers who may not have had the good fortune to
meet them before in earlier volumes of this Western series of books.
Donald Mackay was the son of a well-to-do ranchman located down along
the Arizona border, where he carried on his cattle business at Keystone
Ranch; and was at the same time heavily interested in certain copper
mines situated among the mountains.
Adrian Sherwood was a friend, and a chum of Donald's, who had spent a
long stretch with the Mackays, so that he almost looked upon their home
as his own. He was an orphan, and owned a cattle ranch of his own up
here in Wyoming, which had for a long time been managed by his Uncle
Fred Comstock; but which the young fellow had not visited for a term of
years, ever since meeting Donald, in fact.
During the last twelve months or so he had been receiving very
disappointing returns from his property. All sorts of evil things had
apparently swooped down on the valuable ranch, which had once been known
under another name, but now went by that of the Bar-S outfit.
Adrian had bothered very little about it at first, but as these bad
returns continued, his curiosity was aroused; and finally he found
himself tempted to visit his property secretly, without warning his
uncle of his coming. In this way he hoped to see for himself just what
strange things were taking place up here in what was once the finest
cattle country, barring none, in all the Wild West.
The third member of the trio of riders was named William Stonewall
Jackson Winkle. Hence it would go without saying that he came of an
intensely patriotic Southern family, one or more of whose members must
have ridden with the famous Confederate general in those terrible days
of the Civil War; though the Winkles now lived in the North, and
Billie's father was a rich New York lawyer.
The boy had really been sent to pay a year's visit to his cousin,
Donald, in the hope that the bracing air and breezy life of a cattle
ranch, with plenty of outdoor exercise thrown in, might reduce his flesh
more or less; and the cure had been fairly successful.
While Billie was still an enormously fat chap, his muscles were no
longer flabby, but "hard as nails," as he often joyously avowed. He had
come out West a genuine tenderfoot or greenhorn, only knowing how to
ride fairly well; but gifted with an extraordinary stubborn disposition
that forced him to keep "plugging" away at any thing he wished to learn
until it _had_ to succumb.
So he had conquered the vicious pony named Jupiter, which none of the
cow-punchers had had the patience to break of his evil ways. For a long
time it was an open question whether Billie would break the pony, or the
latter break Billie's neck; but in the end the determined boy had won
out. And from that day on they delighted to call the fat chum Broncho
Billie.
Down in Arizona these three lads, known far and wide as the Broncho
Rider Boys because they were nearly always seen galloping swiftly over
the plains on their mounts, either in pursuit of game, runaway cattle,
or just for a wild lark, had of course met with numerous exciting
experiences.
Some of these will be found narrated in previous volumes of this series,
to which the reader who would know more about the saddle pards, is
referred.
They had made the journey of hundreds of miles mounted on their horses,
and taking things rather easy. With them they carried rifles, and some
cooking utensils as well as blankets; for many a night they camped just
as they found themselves in the open, making themselves fairly
comfortable. At other times they put up at roadside taverns, especially
when a bad spell of weather came along, and the chance for shelter
offered.
From what Adrian had said to the stout chum, they were now close to the
end of their long journey, with their mounts in tiptop condition.
Indeed, he had assured Billie that this night would in all probability
be their last on the Wyoming trail, as they should reach Bar-S Ranch
before another sundown succeeded the one that was before them.
Billie liked riding, but being such a heavy fellow he longed for a
change. To his mind a few days spent in lying around and taking things
easy would be a delight. At times he joked, and told his chums that if
they kept him on the jump much longer he would be able to get a job in
some dime museum as the Living Skeleton; but somehow this doleful
information did not appear to cause either Adrian or Donald any alarm.
They would look him over critically, and then grin, as they shook their
heads in the negative, as though unable to detect any difference in his
heft nowadays from what it used to be when they left Keystone Ranch.
In this way they rode in among the houses that formed a prairie village.
Farms doubtless lay scattered around, with the owners preferring to live
in a community, and ride out to their work every day, either in wagons,
or the latest thing in automobiles, which were already becoming very
common on the plains.
Seeing an awkward, half-grown boy, who looked as though he might be
connected with the tavern in front of which they had halted, Adrian
called out to him.
"We want to stop over and get some lunch; can you have our ponies fed,
and then brought around to the hitching fence again, after being
watered?"
"Reckon I kin, boss," replied the boy, who was a rather silly looking
fellow, Billie thought, and who kept staring at him so hard that he
rather fancied he had never before set eyes on so stout a youth; he even
grinned and chuckled while taking the bridle reins of the three ponies,
and continued to stare at Billie until the three travelers had
disappeared in the tap-room of the tavern.
"Seems like you made a hit with that fellow, Billie," remarked Donald,
chuckling.
"Well, I ain't proud of my conquest," muttered the fat boy, who had not
felt easy under the bold stare of the hostler; "he hain't got the
sweetest face I ever set eyes on; and 'peared to me he might be close to
a fool."
"Here's the landlord," remarked Adrian, and turning to the tall man who
came bustling forward, he continued: "We'd like to have something warm
to eat, if you can give it to us in a short while; your stable boy has
taken our ponies around to bait and water. Are we in time for dinner?"
"Be ready in ten minutes, and glad to hev you along with us," replied
the other.
They found that the dinner, while limited in variety, was very good, and
with an abundance that pleased Billie especially, for the fat chum was a
great eater.
Having satisfied their appetites Donald and Adrian gave Billie a little
extra time. They recognized the fact that he had to eat for nearly twice
their weight; and had only one set of jaws with which to do the
masticating, as Billie often complained, when they reproached him for
lingering over the spread.
But finally even he had to confess that he could devour no more, though
he did shake his head when leaving the table, as though it was against
his principles to allow so much to remain after he had dined.
The horses were already fastened at the rail out at the front door, and
having settled for the accommodation, besides leaving a generous tip for
the hostler who did not appear to be around, they mounted and rode off;
at least Donald and Adrian did without any trouble.
Billie, however, was not so fortunate. Jupiter acted very queer, after
having had his wild spirit so well brought under subjection by his young
master long ago. He shook his head, and snorted, as though afraid of
something, even prancing hither and thither as if unwilling to let
Billie get into his saddle.
"Whoa! you silly thing!" shouted the fat boy, with a foot in the
stirrup; and then, seeing that Jupiter was bound to make him try his
best to mount this time, Billie suddenly threw himself upward, and as
his other leg passed over the saddle he found himself seated.
Hardly had he done so than Jupiter commenced a series of prancings and
buckings of the same type as of old, evidently objecting strenuously to
Billie's weight. Not being able to dismount his young master in this way
the really frantic pony suddenly dashed furiously along, passing both
the others like a shot. And Billie, as he left the village tavern in the
lurch, believed he heard a discordant shriek of boyish laughter that, it
struck him, must have come from the throat of the ugly stable boy who
had stared so hard at him and grinned like an ape!