THE COMING OF THE RUSTLERS.
"You don't think it'd pay for somebody to sneak out there and learn if
the rustlers are really hanging around?" suggested Donald, after some
time had crept on, without anything happening to change the conditions
as they existed.
"No use, Donald," said the other, immediately. "There'd always be more
or less risk that you'd get in a peck of trouble; and if the attack came
when you were away, why, we'd miss your helping hand."
"But I'd like to go the worst kind, Adrian."
"I'm right sure you would," answered the other, quickly; "but the more
you get to thinking it over the sooner you'll make up your mind that
it'd never pay. When I crawled into that house it was of prime
importance that we found out if those three renegades were hiding there,
waiting to attack us from the rear when we had our hands full of other
business. That was an important thing; but we already feel dead certain
that the Walkers are hanging out yonder, so what good could it do to
just crawl up and find this out? Perhaps, now, you're thinking of
corraling the whole bunch, and beating my little game five times over,
eh, Donald?"
"I give it up, Ad; so don't speak of it again, please. Just as you say,
we feel they're waiting out there, hidden by that measly gloom; and I
couldn't really do any more than make sure of that. Forget it. I'm
wondering what their dodge'll be when they get busy. I've known more'n a
few games being played by rustlers; but believe me, in all my life down
in Arizona, where the Mexicans come across the border and steal cattle,
to rush it over the line so that we can't go after 'em, I never heard of
such boldness as these Walkers show. Why, they just up and tell a
ranchman they are in need of about sixty fat beeves, and that his seem
to fill the bill; so if he knows what's good for him he'll turn over and
go to sleep again, in case he wakes up some fine night, and hears a
stampede taking place outside where his corral lies. Yes, and they get
the habit, too, for they come back again and again."
"Well," said Adrian, grimly, "something's going to happen before morning
to make a change in this program, even if we're left to fight it out
alone. If that posse only shows up it's a dead certainty the end of the
Walker trail has come."
"How long now to midnight?" queried Donald.
"You seem to have got your mind made up they've picked out that time to
begin work," remarked the other, taking out his watch again.
"Because I know the breed so well; perhaps that's why," the prairie boy
went on to say, positively; "they had to set some time, you see, so that
the other bunch in the ranch house would know when to get busy; and
somehow midnight seems to be the favored hour. Pretty close to that,
ain't it, Adrian?"
"I should say yes, because it'll be here in ten minutes more, Donald."
"Well, I'm glad of that, because, to tell the truth I feel a heap like
Uncle Fred said he did; and the sooner we know the worst, the better. By
the way, have you seen Billie lately?"
"That reminds me I haven't; and I wonder what he's doing with himself,"
Adrian went on to say; for events had chased after each other so quickly
that for the time being he had forgotten all about the stout chum.
"We might take a walk around and see if he's crawled into one of the
bunks over at the men's quarters; because you know, Billie's failing
next to stuffing at dinner time is trying to 'make up for lost sleep,'
as he calls it, though where he ever dropped any beats me. But as it's
so near the time we look for trouble we'd better let things go as they
are. If there's any shooting he's bound to be waked up by Charley Moo,
who, you remember, is in there guarding the wounded fellow."
"That's right," replied Adrian, who often found this thing of looking
after the fat chum rather wearisome, and fancied Billie ought to be left
more frequently to take care of himself; since of late he had shown such
marked improvement that he must be considering it quite unnecessary to
have one of his chums forever holding out a helping hand, when they came
to a muddle of any sort.
"Everything seems quiet over at the house where you left your
prisoners," Donald next remarked, as he turned his head in that
direction.
"Oh! not much danger of their breaking out through _that_ door," Adrian
assured him. "Once or twice I've wondered whether the woman in her blind
rage would think to set fire to the place; hoping that she might get out
in that way; but those punchers would put a stop to any risky game like
that, I should think."
"They would if they had their right sense," averred Donald; "because the
chances are three to one that instead of getting free they'd all be
smothered there in that store-room."
"Shall we make our stand here, and together?" asked the other, fingering
his repeating gun as though under the conviction that he must speedily
have use for the same.
"That was the program, as I understood it," replied Donald; "we've got
the choice place, too, where we can command a wide sweep; and when I
picked it out I was pretty sure the attack would swing down from out
yonder, though you never can tell where lightning'll strike."
"Then let's get down behind all this trash, and lie low," suggested
Adrian; "for if they come riding along, they'll be apt to send some lead
singing in this direction, you can be sure."
As they had before this time arranged certain nesting places in the
midst of the old lumber and such things, thrown into a great heap until
it could be taken away at some future date, all the boys had to do now
was to snuggle down.
Then, resting their guns over the top of the barricade, they awaited
developments, still confident that they would soon have plenty of
excitement on their hands to satisfy any desire for action that might
exist in their venturesome young hearts.
So the minutes dragged along, and at last Adrian announced that the hour
of midnight had really arrived.
"They may come crawling up like snakes in the grass," he said; "and
again, p'raps they'll go galloping past like the Indians used to do,
down your way, when they had a caravan stalled--hiding behind their
horses, and banging away with their guns to beat the band."
"Well," said Donald, firmly, "I hate to hurt a poor horse the worst
kind, as you know right well, Adrian; but if they go to trying that sort
of dodge, there's only one way to break such a game up, and that's to
drop their mounts so fast they'll soon get sick of it."
"And when one of us does that, perhaps the other might get a chance to
send his compliments to the rustler when he goes pitching over the head
of his mount?" suggested Adrian, showing that he had fallen in with his
chum's idea.
"Good enough; and we'll try that same if we get the opening. Now, let's
watch out, so that no crawler gets in close enough to start cutting the
wire corral open. In some places it wouldn't take only a few minutes at
most to slash things wide; and by the way the cattle keep moving around,
chances are they'd be pouring out through the gap before you could think
five times."
Again silence fell upon the two chums. Not the slightest sound came but
they listened carefully to place it, under the impression that it might
have a significance far beyond its apparent nature.
"There, did you see that?" whispered Donald, suddenly.
"That light flashed up three different times, sure it did," replied the
other.
"A signal different from any of the others, too," added Donald.
"And p'raps it means for them to come along; they'll be apt to whoop it
up pretty lively too, mark my words; because they'll expect their pals
in our camp to take notice, so they can carry out their part of the
slick game. What did I tell you, Donald?"
The night was suddenly broken by a series of loud cowboy yells, such as
always cause the herd to take notice and show immediate signs of being
ready to stampede. Then came the pounding of horses' hoofs on the
prairie, and the two Broncho Rider Boys, crouching there, waited to get
their first glimpse of the coming rustlers.