CHAPTER XII

A HIGH CRIME

Tom and Hippy sprang out in their pajamas, each with a revolver in hand.

“Badger!” shouted Tom Gray.

The guide came running into camp very much excited.

“Jim, what happened?” demanded Lieutenant Wingate.

“I chased three cayuses out of camp and they tried to shoot me up. I

seen them fussin’ ’round the tents and I let them have it, though I

don’t think I hit any of them,” explained the guide.

“Did they steal my ‘pants’?” cried Stacy.

“I don’t know. I do know that ours are gone, too,” answered Tom Gray.

“That looks like clothes over there,” announced the guide, pointing to a

heap on the ground a short distance from the tent occupied by Tom and

Hippy.

Stacy hobbled to the spot.

“Yes. Here they are,” he said, then uttered a wail. “I’ve been robbed,”

he cried. “Every cent I had in my ‘pants’ is gone.”

“Was it much?” called Nora, who, with the other girls, was peering from

their tent.

“Fifty cents!” groaned Chunky, amid laughter. “Tom, did they take your

money, too?” questioned Grace.

“They took some of mine,” announced Hippy, who by this time was running

a hand through the pockets of his trousers.

“Yes. They got some from me, too,” added Tom Gray. “Hippy, we are

fortunate that we had most of our funds in our money belts. Girls, have

you lost anything?”

After a few moments of excited searching for their belongings the girls

called out that nothing had been taken from them.

“I drove them out before they got to the ladies,” spoke up Badger. “How

much did they get, Mr. Gray?”

“Only ten dollars in bills, some small change and my watch.”

Hippy had fared better. They had removed a five-dollar bill from his

trousers, but his watch, that he wore in his pajamas pocket, was still

there. Tom and Hippy were angry, but Stacy, instead of being angry, was

bemoaning the loss of his fifty cents.

The girls, after hurriedly dressing, came out shivering.

“Tell us exactly what occurred, Mr. Badger,” requested Grace.

“Yes. Out with it,” ordered Tom.

“I was sleepin’ by the fire as I most always do, when I heard somethin’.

It was one of the thieves failin’ over a pack. I saw them fussin’ over

somethin’ there. I reckon they was then goin’ through the clothes they

had got from the men. I challenged and they started to run. It was then

that I took a shot at the fellers. They opened up on me and I chased

them out of camp. You folks know the rest. Never had anythin’ like that

happen to a party that I was guidin’. I know there’s some bad ones in

the Park, but they don’t generally bother parties like this. They do

hold up a stage when they git a chance. Reckon the guards ain’t doin’

their duty. This is a new lot of guards in the Park now. When we git

back in the valley we’ll report the robbery, but I don’t reckon it will

do any good.”

“I want my fifty cents,” grumbled Stacy.

“Jim, you did a good job,” approved Hippy.

“Had it not been for your vigilance we might have lost a lot more. We

will remember you when we settle up at the end of our journey.”

“Yes. We are much obliged to you,” agreed Tom Gray.

“Did you get a good look at them—would you know those men were you to

see them again?” questioned Grace.

“No. It was too dark where they was standin’. I couldn’t see what they

looked like.”

“We will look about after daylight and see if we can discover anything,”

replied Grace. “I would suggest that Mr. Badger sit up and watch the

camp for the rest of the night.”

Badger said he would. The Overlanders then went back to bed, Stacy still

grumbling over the loss of his fifty cents. No further disturbance

annoyed the camp that night. Shortly after daylight all hands were out

looking for trail signs left by the night prowlers, but not even a

footprint was found, though Nora did pick up a red handkerchief that had

undoubtedly been dropped by one of the thieves. This was of no value as

a clew, for nearly all western riders wore them.

The start up the mountain was made after an early breakfast, and the

Overlanders rode away in high spirits, the guide leading the way,

frequently halting to permit his charges to gaze down on the view spread

before their eyes. The broad plateau below was dotted with clouds of

vapor, and occasionally a tall column of water and steam from an

erupting geyser reared high in the air. It was rough traveling, and now

and then they were obliged to dismount and lead their mounts up some

steep rise of rocks. A cold luncheon was eaten, and then the journey was

resumed.

“Do you see any place that looks good to make camp?” called Hippy.

The guide said he did not.

“There is a spring up yonder,” spoke up Stacy, pointing up the mountain.

“Where? How do you know?” demanded Tom.

“Because there are green things up there,” answered Stacy.

“Hm-m-m! You do see something, don’t you?” chuckled Emma.

“Yes, but I’m not always bragging about it,” retorted the boy.

“There appears to be a level spot to the right of that patch of green,

folks,” said Hippy. “Guide, shall we try to make it?”

“Yes. We can easily make it before sunset. I’ve never been up this far,

but we ought to be able to git there in plenty of time. I reckon we

better git off and walk now.”

The Overlanders dismounted, Stacy with much grumbling, leading their

ponies and cautiously picking their way over the rugged trail. It was

six o’clock when they finally reached the spot indicated by Stacy Brown.

His reading of the signs had been right. A sparkling spring of cold

water was found there bubbling from the mountain-side. The guide dug a

shallow pool below the spring, then a channel from the spring to draw

the water to the pool. In this way he formed a basin from which the

animals might drink without fouling the waters of the spring itself. The

Riders were so interested in the proceeding that for the moment they

forgot to get to work.

“Well? Shall we start something instead of watching Jim?” demanded

Hippy.

“What shall we do?” asked Nora.

“Do? Why, make camp, of course. This is where we stay to-night.”

“I hope nobody steals my ‘pants’ again to-night,” grumbled Chunky.

All hands thereupon set briskly to work to prepare camp, hoping to be

permitted to pass a night in sleep and comfort, but their sleep that

night was destined to be brief, for an exciting night was before them.

Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the Yellowstone National Park · 第 12 / 21 章