NOT SO BAD AS IT LOOKED
Sammy was the first to notice the absence of the strangers. After
he had washed and dressed he saw that the berths in the neighboring
section had been put up and the seat prepared for the day. But the seat
had no occupants.
This did not disturb Sammy very much at first. The men might have gone
forward for an early breakfast in the dining car. Even when he failed
to see them there, he concluded that they might have finished their
meal and might be enjoying an after breakfast smoke in the smoking car.
Or they might be out on the observation platform of the last car. These
theories kept him content for a while, and with them he quieted the
growing uneasiness of the other boys.
But at last, as the men failed to show up, he grew nervous and called
to the porter as he was going through the aisle.
"Do you know where the gentlemen are who had this seat in front of us
yesterday?" he asked.
"Don't know where dose gemmen are now," answered the porter with a
grin. "Dey got off de train jest befo' daylight dis mornin'."
There was a stir among the Fairview boys at this announcement and
Sammy's heart sank within him.
"Do you know who the men were?" was all he could think of to ask at the
moment.
"Nebbeh saw dem befo'," smiled the porter. "But dey wuz suttinly
mighty fine gemmen. Gave me a dollar tip befo' dey got off."
The porter waited a moment longer, but Sammy had no further questions
to ask of him and he passed on.
"What do you think of that?" groaned Sammy to his mates.
"We're stung for fair," remarked George, disappointedly.
"We ought to have told all about it last night," commented Bob.
"The birds have flown!" exclaimed Frank, dramatically.
"I think we ought to tell the conductor anyway," remarked Sammy, after
a moment's bitter contemplation of the way his chance for fame had
disappeared.
"Pretty late now," observed George. "Still, I suppose the best thing we
can do is to tell him."
They waited till that official came along. He was a fat, jolly man and
had taken quite a liking to the boys.
"Good morning, boys," he said with a smile. "Did you sleep well last
night?"
"Pretty well, thank you," replied Sammy for himself and his chums.
"I've got something I'd like to tell you if you have a minute to spare."
"Sure thing," replied the conductor, sitting on the arm of the seat.
"Fire away."
"It's this," began Sammy, putting as much impressiveness in his tone as
possible. "We believe there were two men on the train last night who've
been mixed up in a murder."
The conductor gave a genuine start and this evidence of shock pleased
the boys immensely.
"What do you mean by that?" asked the conductor.
"Just what I say," replied Sammy, solemnly. "I heard them talking of a
man that had been killed with a knife and how they had laughed at his
kicks and squeals."
The conductor was really agitated.
"Who were the men," he asked sharply, "and where are they now?"
"I don't know where they are now," answered Sammy. "The porter says
that they got off the train before daylight this morning. But all
yesterday afternoon and evening they were sitting in the seat right in
front of us."
The conductor taxed his memory for a moment. Then to the amazement of
the boys he almost doubled up with laughter.
The boys looked at each other, amazed and offended.
"I don't see what there is to laugh about," ventured Sammy, severely.
The gravity of his tone sent the conductor off into another spasm.
"Why," he said as soon as he could speak, "I know those men and have
known them for years. They're two of the finest fellows I know. They
wouldn't commit murder any more than you or I would."
"I only know what I heard," replied Sammy, sulkily.
"Just what did you hear?" rejoined the conductor. "Try to remember the
exact words."
The words had been graven so deeply on Sammy's memory at the time that
he had no trouble in recalling them.
"One of the men said," he began slowly; "'He tried to make it but Billy
was too quick for him. He killed him right then and there.' Then the
other man said: 'Good work.' Then the first man said: 'You ought to
have seen him kick. I had to laugh when I saw his face.'
"That's all I could hear just then, but a little later I heard one of
them say something about 'stealing.' Then they must have meant the man
who had been killed when one of them said: 'He was badly cut up but
his squealing did no good.' That's how I knew they must have killed the
man with a knife."
While Sammy talked, the conductor was evidently piecing the sentences
together. Then a light dawned in his eyes and he was about to let
himself go into peals of laughter when he caught sight of the
bewildered look in Sammy's eyes, and, being a kindly man, tried to
control himself.
"Look here, my boy," he said. "I can see just how this whole thing has
come about.
"One of those men was Bud Tyson, the best umpire in the Tri-State
League, and the other was Tom Benton, catcher of the Buffaloes. They
were talking about baseball. One of the men in the game had tried to
steal a base. The catcher had been too quick for him and got the ball
down to Billy, the man who was playing second base. He touched the
runner and put him out, or killed him, as baseball players often call
it. Sometimes they say that a man died at second. The man who was put
out made a big kick or squeal about it, because he was so cut up about
being put out. But the umpire just laughed at him and he had to go back
to the bench."
Sammy felt the sickening sensation at the pit of his stomach that he
had sometimes felt when an elevator started down with a rush. So this
was all his great discovery amounted to! Another bubble of his had
burst.
"So that was it," he said slowly.
"That's all it was," replied the conductor. "Both of those men have
boys of their own and are good citizens and fathers. But don't feel a
bit bad about it, my boy," he added kindly. "Anybody who isn't up in
baseball slang might easily have made the same mistake. You might have
been on the track of a real murder and you did just right in telling me
about it."
With a friendly pat on the head he went on through the car. The boys
looked at each other sheepishly. But this time none of them felt that
they had any right to joke Sammy about it. They had believed as fully
as he that they were on the track of a mystery and had been worked up
to the same pitch of excitement. So that they were all in the same boat.
"So they were only baseball players," said George, disappointedly.
"That explains the crooked fingers that one of them had," remarked
Frank. "I suppose they've been broken again and again."
"That was certainly one on us," said Bob, dejectedly.
"Well, after all, we ought to be glad I suppose that they aren't
murderers," Sammy comforted himself.
"I'm glad that we're near Chicago," said George. "I don't want to see
this conductor any more than I have to, and I'll feel better when we
change trains."
In another hour they had reached Chicago, and the brief glimpse they
got of the great city by the lake made them wish that they could stay
over a day and explore its wonders. But their tickets called for a
continuous trip and in a little while they were leaving the city behind
them and rushing over the last stage of their journey.
The cities were less frequent now, great stretches of prairie land
became more and more common, and the boys realized that they were
getting into the heart of the real West, the region of boundless plains
as contrasted with that of crowded towns.
Little else occurred outside of their own plans and fun to interest the
boys until they were getting close to Grand Forks, where their railroad
traveling would come to an end.
But when they were two hours east of Grand Forks, four men, who
aroused Sammy's curiosity at once, boarded the train at a little
station.
They were rather rough-looking men, and Sammy thought that one of them
in particular had a villainous look. The other boys set them down as
surveyors or prospectors, but such a commonplace idea had no charms for
Sammy.
"I tell you there's something queer about them," Sammy persisted. "Do
you see that black box they're so careful about?"
"Well, what of that?" said George, carelessly. "That may have some of
their instruments in it."
"It looks more to me like an infernal machine," said Sammy, darkly.
"That's why they handle it so carefully. It might go off if it got a
hard knock. I tell you I believe those fellows are up to something."
"Some more murderers perhaps," put in Bob. "You'd better listen mighty
close, Sammy."
"Never mind," said Sammy, stubbornly. "Because I made a mistake once
doesn't say I'm wrong this time. I'm going to keep my eyes on those
fellows until we get to Grand Forks."
But nothing startling developed, and the men were still guiltless of
any crime as far as Sammy really knew when Grand Forks was reached and
the boys tumbled out glad to stretch their legs after the long journey.
It was only a way station and no other passengers besides themselves
got off. At the end of the station was a big buck-board with two stout
mustangs attached.
A tall, lean man with a bronzed face came down to the place where they
were standing.
"I suppose you are the Fairview boys that Mr. Claxton is lookin' fur,"
he said with a pleasant smile. "He sent me down to bring you over to
the ranch. My name is Hank Thompson an' I'm one of Mr. Claxton's help.
I'll jest bring the team down here an' we'll hist yer baggage on an'
then we'll set sail for the ranch."
The boys liked Hank Thompson at once, and soon they were all as busy as
bees getting their luggage on the back of the conveyance. Then the boys
climbed in wherever they could find room and the mustangs started off
at a spanking gait.
[Illustration: THE MUSTANGS STARTED OFF AT A SPANKING GAIT.]
There was no real road, only a well defined trail leading over what
seemed to be an endless prairie. As far as the eye could reach, nothing
broke the view to the horizon except a range of hills to the north. The
earth was carpeted with heavy, lush grass, and in places there could
be seen herds of cattle grazing, whose number seemed to run into the
thousands.
It was a long ride, but the lads had so much to see that was novel
and their tongues ran on so endlessly that it hardly seemed they had
traveled twenty-five miles when Hank pointed with his whip to a large
group of low-lying buildings that appeared in front of them.
"Thet's Bar-Z Ranch," he said, "an' there's the boss and missus out on
the porch to meet you."
A few minutes later they passed through a gate and drew up in front of
the ranch house. Mr. and Mrs. Claxton hurried down the steps to greet
them, and the next moment the young travelers were almost smothered in
the hearty hugs and hand shakings that told them how welcome they were
at the Bar-Z Ranch.