WHAT JEFFREYS KNEW
Jeffreys, as soon as he understood his identity had been
established, leaped his pony toward the boys and was soon beside
them.
"You are a fine lot to be packing rifles!" he snorted, his anger
rising as the danger passed. "You may think it's a good joke to
cover anybody you meet on the plains, but some one may turn the
joke on you by firing before you get your aim. You aren't what you
call 'quick on the trigger.'"
"Which is fortunate for you--in this case," declared Larry,
resenting the manner and tone of the stranger.
The sight of the two serious-faced boys, whose eyes showed them to
be keen and alert, brought Jeffreys to his senses.
"I reckon you're right," he exclaimed. "But what's up, Horace? If
you and your friends are out for a little excitement, just take my
tip and turn your attention to jumping a coyote or you may----"
"We are not after excitement," retorted the boy from the Half-Moon
Ranch. "We don't have to go looking for it. We've got all we
want. Some of Megget's gang have raided our herd."
"No? It must have been them I saw over near the hills early this
morning."
"Where were they?" "Which way were they going?" "How many were
there of them?" demanded the lads, each one asking a question.
"It was just after sun-up. I was too far away to recognize the
cattle, but I counted four men. As they only had about fifty head
with 'em, I sort of suspected something was wrong, so I got out of
sight before they could see me. Leastways, if they did, they
didn't make any move to get me."
"Where have you been?"
"I've been up in the hills for a few days prospecting."
"Did you find the mine?" inquired Tom, forgetting the raid and
pursuit in his eagerness to learn about the Lost Lode.
"No, I didn't. I just learned another trail, which isn't the right
one."
Larry, however, was more interested in the cattle thieves and
brought the conversation back to them.
"Were the men near the hills when you saw them?" he asked.
"About a quarter of a mile away."
"Then come on. We must get to the hills so we can find their
trail," declared Horace.
"You kids sure ain't going after 'em alone?" exclaimed Jeffreys
incredulously.
"But if there are only four of them?"
"To you three, and they are men, don't forget that."
"But you'll make four," suggested Tom.
"Providing I was going with you, which I ain't, I'd like to, but I
reckon I'd better ride back to my own ranch and see they haven't
lifted any of my cattle. If they have, I'll get my boys and take
up the trail."
Realizing from the expressions on their faces that the lads were
surprised as well as disappointed at his refusal to accompany them,
the horseman said:
"You all just take my advice and don't try to follow those raiders
into the mountains. What you want to do is to find Wilder and
Snider as quick as you can, providing you won't go back to your
ranch, where you ought to be."
"Which you can bet your whole outfit we won't!" snapped Horace.
"We started on this chase and we're going to stay on it."
Jeffreys smiled at the determined manner of the young rancher,
"Then join your father as soon as you can. Don't try any fool
stunt like going into the mountains. Remember, when you are on the
prairie you can sec on all sides of you."
"Except when you're behind a crest," chuckled Tom.
At this reference to the recent contretemps Jeffreys frowned,
started to say something and instead dug his spurs into his pony,
galloping away without even so much as looking back.
"He's a fine neighbor--not," declared Larry as the trio resumed
their way. "I should have thought he would be only too glad to
help your father and Mr. Snider get back their cattle."
"He isn't very keen for the Half-Moon," rejoined Horace. "Father
beat him in a law case over a boundary line once and he's never
forgotten it."
"And I reckon he won't forget his meeting with us to-day," said
Tom, grinning.
At the memory of the reception they had given, Jeffreys the
comrades had a hearty laugh.
"Still, he gave us some good advice," asserted Larry. "I agree
with him that the thing for us is to find the Half-Moon and Three
Stars crowd as soon as we can."
"Which seems to be a pretty big order in itself," mused Tom. "I
say we go and see where they drove the cattle into the hills and
then decide."
This suggestion met with no opposition, and as the boys rode toward
the mountains, the wooded sides of which looked inviting because of
the relief they promised from the torrid heat of the plains, they
discussed various plans, only to discard them.
At last they reached the hills. Dismounting, they hobbled their
ponies, removed the saddles and bridles sticky with lather, and
then broke out some lunch which they ate ravenously, despite the
fact that their mouths were almost parched.
Greatly refreshed by the food, the boys decided to follow the trail
of the cattle till they could get some idea of its direction.
"Let's go on foot," suggested Tom. "The ponies will be all right,
the rest will do them good, and we can get through the brush and
over the rocks with less noise."
Readily his companions agreed, and picking up their rifles, they
quickly found the tracks made by the cattle.
For some distance the trail seemed more like an abandoned wood road
than anything else. But gradually it began to grow narrower and at
last became no more than a path winding in and out among the rocks.
Several times some sound caused the boys to raise their guns to
their shoulders and peer about in all directions, but nothing could
they see save the trees and rocks, and they ascribed the noises to
some denizen of the forest roaming about.
Of a sudden Tom, who was in the lead, stopped.
"I smell something awful queer," he whispered.
The trail wound along the edge of a sharp descent and just ahead
was an abrupt turn.
Ere either Larry or Horace could reply to their companion's
announcement all three were dumb-founded to see a big, shaggy brown
head appear round the turn in the trail.
"It's a bear!" gasped Horace.
At the sight of the three boys the big head had paused in surprise.
Then its lips began to curl, disclosing a wicked looking set of
teeth, and finally it broke into a savage snarl, at the same time
rising in the air.
"He's getting to his hind legs. That means fight!" breathed
Horace. "Come on, let's run!"
"But he'd overtake us and beat us down with his paws," returned
Larry. "We've got to kill him."
Less time did the action consume than is required to describe it,
and the boys were standing terror stricken when the bear charged
upon them, making vicious lunges at them with his huge paws.
Roused from his fright by the imminence of his peril, Tom raised
his rifle, only to have it knocked from his hands by a swing of one
of the bear's paws.
[Illustration: The rifle was knocked from his hand.]
"Drop down! drop down so I can shoot!" yelled Larry as he saw the
desperate situation in which his brother was placed.
Instantly Tom obeyed, throwing himself to one side as he fell.
But as the younger of the brothers dropped the bear, as though
singling him out for his particular antagonist, also dropped to all
fours, and Larry's shot went over him.
Horace, however, shot lower, and a terrible roar told them that the
bullet had struck home.
In the fury of his pain the bear seemed to think that the boy lying
flat on the rocks was the cause of his suffering, and, with mouth
distended, charged upon him.
In a frenzy lest they might not be able to save Tom, Larry and
Horace both fired.
At the impact of the bullets the bear rose on his hind legs, swung
wildly with his paws at the steel barrels that were pouring the
terribly painful things into him and fell prone, the huge carcass
missing Tom by less than a foot.