THE HALF-MOON RANCH
As the boys drew rein in front of the broad, vine-covered piazza of
the ranch house they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Wilder,
"Well, it does seem good to see some one from home," exclaimed the
latter as she shook the hands of Tom and Larry.
"It sure does," asserted her husband. "Wish you'd brought your
father and mother with you. What in the world started them off to
Scotland?"
Quickly the brothers explained.
"Well, well! So Uncle Darwent really had some money," commented
Mrs. Wilder. "I'm real glad, though of course it isn't as though
your father needed any more. I should have thought you boys would
have wanted to go with them."
"Not when we could spend the summer on your ranch," returned Larry.
"But we began to be afraid we would be obliged to go, and we should
have if the telegram had been any later. No time ever seemed so
long as when we were waiting for your answer."
"It was just luck we got your message," declared Horace.
"Sometimes we don't go to town for a week. But something seemed to
urge me to ride in the other morning, and when I arrived Con Brown
hollered to me he had a telegram. When I read it, I didn't lose
any time answering, and I made Con promise to rush it."
"Con's our telegraph operator," explained Bill. "Come on in and
change your duds and then we'll look the ranch over."
Nothing loath to remove their clothes, which still smelled of
engine smoke, despite their ride over the plains, as the brothers
seized their suitcases and followed their young hosts, Larry
exclaimed laughingly:
"You see we took your advice not to bring a trunk."
"Glad of it," asserted Horace joyously. "There's no need to dress
out here. It's just great! You don't have to put on a collar from
one week's end to another. But if you had brought a lot of
clothes, mother would have made us dress too. That's why I
mentioned the matter in my telegram."
This explanation was given in a low tone that Mrs. Wilder might not
know her son had taken such effective measures to prevent his being
obliged to "dress up," and the boys laughed heartily at the
harmless joke.
The home of the Wilders was only one story high, but the rooms were
big and comfortable. Around three sides ran the piazza, from which
French windows, extending from the floor to the ceiling, opened,
admitting any breeze that might be stirring.
The room assigned to the boys was on the west side of the house,
and through the vines they could look across the plains to some
mountains that towered in the distance.
"Our room is the next one to yours," said Bill. "We'll wait there
till you are dressed. If you want anything, sing out."
Hastily Tom and Larry took off the clothes in which they had
traveled, and bathed, glad of the opportunity to remove the cinders
which had caused them no little discomfort.
"Bill and Horace seem just the same as when they lived in Bramley,"
observed Tom when they were alone. "Horace hasn't grown a bit."
"They are tanned up till they look like Indians, that's the only
change I can see," returned his brother. "Horace always will be
short, but Bill's tall enough for two."
"You can't wear those caps," declared Bill as Tom and Larry
appeared with the light baseball caps they had brought with them.
"But that's all we have," protested Larry, "except, of course, our
straw hats. You don't expect us to knock round in those, do you?"
"Sure not. But if you wore those caps you'd get sunstruck out on
the plains. We've got some sombreros you can take."
As the boys trooped out onto the piazza Tom espied a five-bar fence
about a hundred yards from the house.
"That's the horse corral," explained Horace, noting the direction
of his friend's gaze. "We don't keep our ponies in barns out here.
The horses are all out on the range now, except eight we keep at
home for ourselves."
Passing from the cool veranda, the boys walked toward a long
building some thirty yards away.
"This is the bunk-house, where the cowboys stay when they're home,"
announced Bill. "There are ten of them, the best boys in this part
of the country, but they are a lively lot. It's a good thing they
are with the cattle. You'll have a chance to get used to ranching
before they come in or they might amuse themselves at your expense.
Politeness isn't a cowboy's long suit."
"So I gathered," said Larry as he thought of his experience at the
crossing in Oklahoma. But his mind was quickly diverted by his
brother.
"What's that half-moon over the door mean?" asked the younger of
the Alden boys as he caught sight of a gilded crescent that
sparkled in the sunlight.
"Oh, tenderfoot! oh, tenderfoot! It is indeed fortunate the boys
are away," exclaimed Bill in mock solemnity.
"That is the brand of this ranch. Every horse, every steer, cow
and calf we own bears a half-moon because this is the Half-Moon
Ranch. When any of our ponies or cattle go astray or mix with
others, the only way we can tell which belong to us is by the
brand."
"How do you put it on?" asked Tom.
"Burn it into the flesh with hot irons. If you can stay till fall,
when we have a round-up, you can see how it's done," said Horace.
Feeling that they were indeed ignorant of ranch life, the two
brothers decided to use their eyes and ask no more questions than
were necessary.
Entering the bunk-house, they saw a long table covered with white
oilcloth and a line of bunks built in two tiers against the wall
opposite the door. A big stove stood at one end, and there were
pegs for saddles, bridles and lassoes all about.
From the bunk-house the boys went to the wagon sheds, which
contained three or four farm wagons and also a buckboard.
"That's for mother," explained Bill. "She doesn't like to ride,
but she can though if it's necessary.
"Here's where your saddles are," he continued, pointing to a beam
into which pegs had been driven. "You want to remember them,
especially when the boys are home. They don't like to have any one
else take their saddles."
"We'll remember," declared Tom and Larry meaningly.
"I suppose we'll find our ponies in the corral?" hazarded Tom.
"Sure thing. And here's something else to keep in mind. Father
always insists that each man put his pony in the corral himself.
Of course this morning he did it for us, but he won't again."
"How do you get the horses when you want them? Call 'em?" asked
Tom.
"Sometimes that will work--after a pony has come to know its
master--but the quickest way is to take some oats in a pan,"
declared Horace. "We keep the oats here," and he opened a bin at
one side of the wagon shed.
"You can use oats on Blackhawk and Lightning and our own ponies,
but when we want a strange horse we rope him. That makes me think,
I've saved a couple of dandy lariats for you. Cross-eyed Pete, one
of our boys, made them for me out of rawhide. They are in my room.
Come on, we'll get them and then show you how to use them."
"Is it hard to learn?" inquired Larry.
"Yes, to throw one every time," replied Bill. "Horace and I have
been practicing ever since we came out. We can do pretty well.
But you ought to see Cross-eyed Pete! He's the best of all the
boys. He's so good, he can drop a noose over a rattlesnake, and
that's going some."
Before the lads could get the lassoes, however, Mrs. Wilder called
them to get ready for dinner.
As the two visitors took their seats at the table a Chinaman, clad
in white, glided noiselessly into the room and took his place
behind Mr. Wilder's chair, ready to serve.
"Hop Joy, this is Mr. Larry and this is Mr. Tom," said Mrs. Wilder.
"Whatever they ask you to do, you must do it."
The celestial, who was cook, washman and general factotum on the
Half-Moon Ranch, bowed gravely to each of the boys.
"That sounds very fine," laughed Mr. Wilder, "but you must be
careful what you ask Hop Joy to do. If you disturb him when he's
cooking he's apt to throw a pail of water at you."
"Hop's all right, father," declared Horace loyally. "He only
throws water when the boys try to steal his doughnuts. Um--m, but
Hop can make doughnuts! You two just wait till you're riding all
day and then see if they don't taste good."
"So that explains the reason you keep on the right side of Hop Joy,
eh?" answered Mr. Wilder, smiling. "I've often wondered why you
were so willing to help him when the boys are home."
After the laughter this sally evoked had subsided Mrs. Wilder asked
the boys about their journey.
In amazement the Wilders listened as the experiences were related,
and when Larry finished the account of his mix-up with the
cow-punchers Bill exclaimed:
"And here Horace and I have been making fun of you for tenderfeet.
The joke seems to be on us."
"That's what it is," asserted their father. "There are not many
men, let alone lads, who can say they have faced Gus Megget and got
the best of him."
It was the chums' turn to be surprised as they heard this statement.
"Then you know him?" queried Tom.
"I know of him," corrected the ranchman, and the boys noted that
the kindly expression of his face disappeared as he spoke. "Gus
Megget is a very bad man. He hasn't done an honest day's work for
five years. People say he is a train robber, and I've always
believed he was a cattle thief, too. From what you tell me, that's
Shorty Jenks' opinion. If the truth were known, I think Megget
would prove to be the head of a gang of cattle thieves."
And how true were Mr. Wilder's suspicions, they were all destined
to learn.
The recital of their adventuresome journey recalled to the boys
that they had entirely forgotten to tell about Hans' coming.
Each of the four apparently thought of the timid German boy at the
same time and looked at one another uneasily.
And their anxiety was not lessened when Mrs. Wilder asked:
"What became of Hans? Did you call him? Did his brother meet him?"
"No, he didn't," said Larry. Then, determined to get the matter
settled at once, he continued: "Mr. Wilder, I'm afraid I have
imposed on your kindness, but I asked Bill and Horace to let the
German boy come to your ranch until we could decide what he should
do. He's so--so scared, I did not like to leave him alone in
Tolopah."
"I asked to have him come, too," declared Tom, as though unwilling
his brother should bear all the blame, if blame there was to be.
"That was right, quite right," said Mr. Wilder, after a quick
glance at his wife. "Tolopah wouldn't agree with him very well.
We've plenty of room and perhaps he will get over his fear. I can
use another hand very well, if he wants work."
It was a great relief to all the boys to have the matter settled so
pleasantly, and they resumed their laughter and chatter.
When dinner was finished they all went out onto the piazza, where
Tom and Larry were initiated into the mysteries of throwing a
lasso. Then the visitors were taken around and shown many sights
new to them.