FISHING AND HUNTING
The remainder of the week went by, and the boys and girls amused
themselves as best they could. During that time, Mr. Endicott received a
visit from the sheriff of the county, and Dave and his chums were called
upon to tell all they could about the missing horses. Then, after some
whispered talk between the county official and the ranch owner, the lads
were requested to describe the man who had been seen on the trail in
company with Link Merwell.
"I really think the fellow was Andy Andrews," said the sheriff. "But if
so, he had a big nerve to show himself in these parts."
"Didn't you ask Link about the man?" asked Dave.
"Yes. He says the fellow was a stranger to him, and they were just
riding together for company. He says they were together about half an
hour before he met you on the trail, and that the fellow left him about
a quarter of an hour later and headed in the direction of the railroad
station. He said the fellow didn't give any name, but said he was
looking up some ranch properties for some Chicago capitalists."
This was all the sheriff could tell, and on that the matter, for the
time being, rested. Fortunately, Star Ranch possessed a good number of
horses, so none of the young folks were deprived of mounts. But Belle
mourned the loss of her favorite steed, to which she had become greatly
attached.
"I don't care so much for the others, but I do hope papa gets back Lady
Alice," she said, dolefully.
A spell of bad weather kept the young folks indoors for the time being,
and one day they were reminded by a cowboy of the entertainment they had
promised.
"As soon as it clears, we'll give you an exhibition of fancy ridin',"
said the cowboy. "But jest now the boys are dyin' fer some good singin'
an' music, and such."
Dave and the others got their heads together, and the upshot of the
matter was that an entertainment was arranged, to be given in the big
dining-hall of the ranch house. One end of this room was elevated to
form a stage, with big portières for curtains, and Roger, Phil, and Dave
rehearsed several of the "turns" they had done at various times at Oak
Hall. The girls practiced a number of songs, and Laura and the senator's
son decided to give a dialogue, which they called "Which Mr. Brown
Lives Here?"
Word was passed around about the coming entertainment, and it was
announced that it would be for the benefit of an old lady, the mother of
a cowboy who had been killed in a cattle stampede the season before. The
tickets were placed at one dollar each, the entire proceeds to go to the
old lady. This charity appealed to the cowboys, and every one on the
place took a ticket, and then got the cowboys from neighboring ranches
to do likewise.
"We'll have to let some of them sit on the veranda and look in through
the windows," said Mrs. Endicott, when she heard how many tickets had
been sold. "The room won't hold half of them."
"If we have to, we'll give a double performance," said Dave. "We want
everybody to get his money's worth." And then it was arranged that
tickets should be good for either the "matinée" or the night
performance.
The first performance was given in the afternoon and lasted from three
to half-past five o'clock. Every number on the programme went off
without a hitch, and the cowboys applauded uproariously. During the
intermission one cowboy got up very gravely and marched to the stage,
where he deposited a round Indian basket.
"Fer extra contributions, boys!" he sang out, loudly. "Don't be tight
when thar's an old lady to help!" And he dropped two silver dollars in
the basket. At once the other cowboys sprang up and marched to the
front, and a steady stream of silver poured into the basket, much to the
delight of everybody.
"Financially, this is going to be a great success," said Dave, his face
beaming. "I only hope they really like the show."
"They do, or they would soon let you know," answered Belle. "A cowboy
isn't so polite as to make believe he likes a thing when he doesn't."
The evening crowd was even larger than that which had gathered in the
afternoon, and the seating capacity of the dining-room and the veranda
near the windows was taxed to its utmost. The boys and girls started in
to give exactly the same show as during the afternoon, and the first
part went off very well. The Indian basket was again brought into play,
and once more a shower of silver was poured into it.
"Mrs. Chambers will be more than delighted," said Belle.
"How much money do you think we will have for her?" asked Jessie.
"Oh, ticket money and extra contributions, at least two hundred dollars.
It will be a splendid aid to the old lady."
During the first part of the evening's entertainment, Dave had been much
surprised to note the entrance of Hank Snogger, accompanied by two other
cowboys from the Merwell ranch. Snogger looked a bit sheepish, as if
realizing that he was out of his element. The other two cowboys were
rough and hard-looking men, and had evidently been drinking.
"I didn't think we'd have anybody here from the Merwell place,"
whispered Phil.
"Well, I suppose some of our cowboys sold them the tickets," answered
Dave. "I certainly didn't think that fellow, Snogger, would show
himself."
"The men with him are pretty loud," said Roger. "I hope they don't try
to break up the show."
The second half of the entertainment was in full swing when one of the
men with Snogger commenced to laugh uproariously. His companion joined
in, and both made such a noise that not a word spoken on the stage could
be heard by the rest of the audience.
"Say, keep quiet there!" called out Sid Todd, who was acting as a sort
of usher.
The two cowboys paid no attention to this request, but continued to
laugh, and presently one of them joined in the chorus of one of the
songs the girls and boys were rendering. He sang badly out of tune, and
made such a discord that the song had to come to a stop.
"Go on! Go on!" he yelled, loudly.
"Whoop her up, everybody!" called his companion. "All join in the glad
refrain!" And he started to sing in a heavy, liquor-laden voice.
"You shut up or git out!" cried Sid Todd, striding forward.
"They don't mean no harm," put in Hank Snogger, but he did not speak in
positive tones.
"You keep out of this, Snogger," answered Todd, coldly. "Those men have
got to behave themselves or git out. I said it, an' I mean it."
"That's right--put 'em out!" shouted several.
"Ain't we got a right to laff?" demanded one of the cowboys who were
making the disturbance.
"Yes, but not so as to drown everything else," answered Sid Todd. "An'
you can't sing."
"We come here fer some fun," said the other cowboy from the Merwell
ranch. "An' we are going to have it. Whoop her up, everybody!" And he
commenced to sing once more.
There were cries from all sides, and for a minute it looked as if the
entertainment would end in a general row. But then Sid Todd gave a
signal to some of the other Endicott hands, and in a twinkling the two
boisterous cowboys were grabbed and hustled from the house. One tried to
draw his pistol, but was given a blow in the face that all but sent him
flat.
"You brought those fellows over here--you take 'em away--an' mighty
quick, too," said Sid Todd to Hank Snogger. And he gave the other cowboy
such a black look that Snogger sneaked out of the house in a hurry.
Outside, the three men were surrounded by a dozen of the Endicott hands,
and they were forced to mount their horses and ride away; and that was
the last seen of them for the time being.
The interruption made Laura and Jessie so nervous that they could not
sing any more, so the programme had to be changed. Dave thought of a
funny monologue Shadow Hamilton had once given at Oak Hall, and he gave
this, as far as he could remember it, and put in a few stories that were
new. The youth worked hard, and the cowboys applauded him vigorously
when he had finished, and soon the unpleasant incident was practically
forgotten. When the show was over, the cowboys all said it was the
finest thing they had ever seen outside of a city theater.
"Worth the money," said one old cowboy. "An' I'd go ag'in to-morrow
night, ef I could." Entertainments in that locality were rare, and the
show was a grand treat to all.
"Oh, but those men who laughed and sang were horrid!" said Laura. "And I
was so afraid they would start to shoot, I didn't know how to control
myself!"
"I believe they came over here on purpose to spoil the entertainment,"
said Phil.
"But why should they do that?" asked Jessie, innocently.
"More than likely Link Merwell got them to do it," answered Roger. "It
would be of a piece with his meanness."
"I believe they were brought over by that Hank Snogger," said the
shipowner's son.
"Yes, but I think Snogger is in some way under Link's thumb," put in
Dave. "Anyway, the two seem to have a good deal in common."
"Well, it was a mean piece of business," said Belle. "Oh, I do wish the
Merwells would sell out to some nice people! It would be splendid to
have real good neighbors."
On the following Monday the boys went fishing "on their own hook," as
Phil expressed it, although Jessie said he had better say "hooks," since
they proposed to use several of them. The boys rode over to the river
and took with them their shotguns. While fishing they kept their horses
in sight and their firearms ready for use, and had any horse-thieves
shown themselves they would have met with a hot reception. Fishing
proved good, and inside of three hours they had all the fish on their
strings that they cared to carry.
"Let us ride up the river a bit," suggested Phil, after they had eaten
their lunch. "I'd like to look at the country, and it is possible we may
be able to stir up some game."
As it was a clear day, the others agreed, and soon they were riding
slowly along a trail which wound in and out among the rocks bordering
the stream. They passed the shack which Roger and the girls had used as
a shelter from the storm, and then reached an open spot. Beyond was a
high hill, covered with a primeval forest.
"There ought to be some game in that woods," said Dave, as they
continued to move forward.
"If the cowboys haven't shot everything worth shooting," answered the
senator's son. "There used to be good hunting in Maine and in Upper New
York State, but you have got to tramp a good many miles these days
before you catch sight of anything worth while."
After a ride in the sun it was cool and pleasing in the forest, and they
took their time riding under the great trees, some of which must have
been fifty to a hundred years old. They saw a number of birds flitting
about, but did not attempt to bring any down.
"If we want any big game we must keep quiet," said Dave, and after that
they moved along without speaking, and with their eyes and ears on the
alert for the first sign of something worth shooting.
Presently Dave held up his hand and all came to a halt. Not far away
could be heard a curious drumming sound.
"What's that?" whispered Phil.
"Sounds like grouse," answered Dave. "They drum like that sometimes.
They must be over in the trees yonder. Let us dismount and see."
The others were willing, and leaving their horses tied to the trees, the
three boys crept forward to the spot from which the drumming proceeded.
They came up abreast, and soon all caught sight of a number of grouse of
the sharp-tailed variety, huddled in a little opening among the bushes.
"Get ready and fire when I give the word," whispered Dave, and a few
seconds later all three of the chums blazed away simultaneously. There
was a fluttering and more drumming, and several grouse thrashed the
ground.
"Hurrah! we've got four!" cried Roger, rushing forward.
"And this one makes five!" said Phil, and dispatched one that was
fluttering around. Then Dave killed a sixth, and by that time the rest
of the game was out of sight.