THE WILD STEER
Mr. Post had the cigar smoker tightly by the wrist. The young man
tried to break away, but as there were other persons between him and
the car steps he was hemmed in. He made a rapid motion toward the
passenger whom he had so berated for jostling him.
"Ah, I thought so!" exclaimed the gray-haired man, who had remained a
quiet spectator of the excitement. "It's about time I took a hand in
the game."
He made a rapid motion, intercepted the hand of the smoker which had
been extended to the original cause of the disturbance, and grabbing
something from it said:
"There's your diamond, stranger. Take care of it until I put the
nippers on these thieves!"
The gray-haired man tried to edge his way around the crowd to get
close to the two men who seemed to be the principal actors in the
adventure. As he did so, the man who had been smoking--making a
flying leap over the back platform railing, darted up the street. At
the same time the man who had been accused of causing the cigar ashes
to scatter over Mr. Post's vest, slipped from the steps and made a
hurried run for the sidewalk.
"After him, some one!" cried the gray-haired man. "I'll get the other
chap. He's the main one. The other is only a confederate," and he was
off in a trice.
The car did not stop, though several men, understanding what it was
all about, called the conductor.
"Can't delay," replied the knight of the bell-rope. "If you want to
see the fun, get off. Pickpockets are too common to stop the car
for."
"Well, I reckon I blocked his game that time," said Mr. Post, as he
looked at the diamond which had lately adorned his shirt front. "I
don't read the newspapers for nothing, and they'll find Josh Post is
hard to beat."
"What did he do to you?" asked some of the passengers.
"Tried to frisk me out of my sparkler," replied the miner. "It's a
new way of working an old trick, but I read about it in a New York
paper last week."
"How did he do it?" asked Jack.
"There were two of 'em," Mr. Post went on. "That fellow had his
cigar, with lots of ashes on it, already for me. Then the other
fellow bunked into him, and he flicked the ashes on me. Of course he
made a play to pretend it was the other fellow's fault, and he
started to brush me off. But while he was doing it with his big
handkerchief, he was taking out my diamond. I caught him just in
time."
"But who was the man who chased him, and gave you back your diamond?"
asked Jack.
"Detective, I reckon," replied the miner. "They're often riding on
the cars on the lookout for just such things as that."
"That's who he was," the conductor explained. "There's been a lot of
pickpockets here lately, and the detectives are riding back and forth
all day. Hope he catches that fellow."
"Don't worry me any," said Mr. Post "I've got my diamond back," and
he placed the sparkling stone in his pocket for safe keeping.
Whether the detective ever caught the slick thief the boys never
learned. They made the trip out to Lake Erie, and when they had
looked at the big body of water and taken a short trip in a launch
they returned to the station to find it was nearly the hour set for
the departure of their train.
"Things seem to be coming our way," remarked Mr. Post after they had
been riding half an hour. "We've had lively times since we met, boys.
But I'll have to leave you in Chicago."
"Perhaps we'll see you again," said Nat. "Have you ever been out
west?"
"In my younger days," replied the miner. "I had a friend once named
Travers--um--no--that wasn't exactly his name either. Travis--
Trellis--Tennis--"
"Tevis!" exclaimed Jack, struck by a sudden inspiration.
"That's it!" cried Mr. Post. "I knew it was something that sounded
like a grape vine. He and I used--"
But what Mr. Tevis, or Trellis, used to do was not told then, for a
second later there sounded a grinding crash and every one in the car
was thrown from his seat while above the sound of hissing steam arose
the shrill cries of several women.
"Wreck!" yelled Mr. Post, struggling to his feet and starting up the
aisle of the car, which was tilted at a steep angle. "We've hit
something!"
By this time, most of the other passengers, who had been thrown here
and there, had extricated themselves from more or less undignified
positions. There were anxious inquiries on every side, and a number
of women fainted. For a while there was a lot of excitement, one lady
going into hysterics at the sight of the bloody hand of a man, who
was cut by a broken window.
Mr. Post had hurried from the car. He came back in a little while,
just as the boys, who were feeling themselves to discover if any
bones were broken, had made up their minds to follow him and learn
what the trouble was.
"What is it?" half a dozen asked the miner.
"We side-swiped a freight car," was the answer.
"Side-swiped?" inquired John Smith, who was not so well up on
Americanisms as the others.
"Why a car projected over the end of a switch," explained Mr. Post.
"Our train came along full tilt, and the engine hit it a glancin'
blow, or a side-swipe, as the railroad men call it."
"Much damage?" asked an elderly gentleman.
"Well, they can't use that freight car without sendin' it to the
hospital," replied Mr. Post, with a smile. "And our engine suffered
minor bruises and contusions, as the papers say when a man is hurt. I
reckon we'll be delayed a bit and it's somethin' I didn't count on."
Mr. Post looked at his watch, and then consulted some papers he took
from a big wallet.
"I've got to be in Chicago at five o'clock to-morrow night," he said
to the boys, "and at the rate we've been delayed I'm going to be
late. It will mean a big loss to me, too, for I counted on putting a
deal through with a friend of mine, Lemuel Liggins. He's to meet me
in the stock yards. I don't suppose you boys are in any great rush,
are you?"
"Well," remarked Jack, "it doesn't make any great difference when we
arrive, but we're supposed to be in Denville at a certain time. A
little delay more or less will not hurt us, but I have something to
do in Denver, and I may need more time than I'm likely to get now."
"Then I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said Mr. Post, "I'm going
to transfer to another line."
"Then we'll do the same," said Jack.
The Chicago train on the other line was on time, and the four
passengers boarded it and were soon being pulled toward the great
city of the Lakes with more comfort than they had experienced on the
other train.
"Ever see the Chicago stock yards?" asked Mr. Post, as they pulled
out of the last station before reaching the big city. "It's a sight
worth looking at," and he went on as the three chums admitted they
had not. "I may not get a chance to show 'em to you, but if you want
to you can get out there with me, and look at 'em on your own hook.
Then you can go into the city."
The lads decided this would be a good plan, and arranged to have
their baggage go to a hotel where they were to stop over night. Mr.
Post prevailed on the conductor to stop the train at a way station,
close to the stock yards, and, when this was reached, he and the
three boys alighted.
It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, and Mr. Post found he was
a little ahead of time. He hired a two-seated carriage in which he
and the boys drove to where he was to meet Mr. Liggins.
Soon after leaving the way station the boys were aware of a curious
roaring sound that filled the air. It sounded like distant thunder.
"What is it?" asked Jack.
"It's the cattle in the stock yards," said Mr. Post. "There's
thousands of 'em, and they keep that noise up all the while. Look
ahead, and you can see some of the pens."
The boys looked. In a net work of railroad tracks they saw fenced-in
yards that seemed filled with a living brown mass. From them came
impatient bellows and a shuffling, stamping sound, that told of the
movement of innumerable cows and steers.
"Drive over that way," said Mr. Post to the coachman. "That's where
Lem said he'd meet me."
They were now in the midst of the stock yards. The pens extended on
every side, and the strong odor of the cattle, the noise and seeming
confusion, the tooting of engine whistles, the puffing of
locomotives, the movement of trains, and the wild notes of the
imprisoned animals made a scene the boys never forgot.
"There's my man!" exclaimed Mr. Post. "Hello, Lem! I'm right on
time!"
"So I see," remarked a tall lanky individual, who was standing near
what seemed to be a small office in the midst of the stock yards. "A
little ahead. It's only half past four."
"Everything all right?" asked Mr. Post.
"Sure thing. Who are your friends? Come along to see fair play?"
"Some boys who are going out west," replied Mr. Post. "Now let's get
down to business. Excuse me for awhile, boys. Make yourselves to
home, and I'll be with you after a bit. Look around all you like."
Mr. Post and his friend Lemuel Liggins retired into the small office.
The boys alighted from the carriage, which drew up under a shed, and
then the lads began to take in the various strange sights about them.
"I didn't suppose there were so many cows and steers in all the
world," said Jack.
"Galloping grasshoppers! Neither did I," admitted Nat.
"You've just begun to see the west," said John Smith. "It's a great
place, and a big place."
"Well, we're likely to see some of it in the next few weeks," said
Nat. "I reckon Colorado is a good place to get a wide view from."
"None better," admitted John. "It has a fine climate, and when we get
there--"
At that instant the attention of the boys was attracted by a loud
shouting behind them. They turned, to see a crowd of men and boys
running after a big brown animal.
"One of the cows has got loose," said Nat.
"Cows?" exclaimed John. "It's one of the wild steers, and it looks
like a dangerous one. Better duck for cover."
With a bellow the steer, which had broken from one of the pens, made
straight for the boys. In close chase came the crowd.
Suddenly the pursuing party throng parted, and, with a yell, a
horseman, waving a lasso above his head, galloped after the beast. He
was close to him when the steer, which was near the small office
where Mr. Post and his friend were, turned sharply and darted off to
the right. The horse man, at that instant had made a throw, but the
rope went wild, and, a second later, trying to turn his horse quickly
the steed stumbled and fell.
The steer, with a mad bellow, turned around and started back for the
crowd, that had halted. With lowered head, armed with long, sweeping,
sharp horns, the angry animal leaped forward.