OUT IN THE STORM
For a day or two after their adventure with the snake the Fairview boys
felt a little jumpy. But the adventure after all had ended well, and
they came before long to look back on it with satisfaction. It would
sound well when they should tell it to their friends at home.
The days were passing now all too quickly. They had fallen in love with
the free, breezy, open-air life they were leading, and they grudged
every day that brought them nearer to the end of such a delightful
vacation.
They had had their night in the cave as had been promised, and had
enjoyed all the thrills that come to one under such circumstances.
Their joy would have been dampened somewhat, if they had known that
half a mile away, Bill Bixby and Hank Thompson were camping on the open
prairie, ready to lend a hand if the boys should get into any trouble.
But nobody ever told them and they enjoyed their outing to the full.
One day they started out for a long ride to a section of the ranch that
they had not yet visited. The day was clear when they set forth, but
Mr. Claxton was not wholly satisfied with the wind and the appearance
of the sky.
"I think there's a storm brewing," he remarked, "but whether it will
come before to-morrow I don't know. So you boys had better keep your
weather eyes open and at the first sign of bad weather start for home."
They promised to be careful and set out gaily, provided with an
abundant lunch that Mrs. Claxton had had Tom Lee put up for them.
"I don't feel sure yet that Tom isn't a highbinder or something bad,"
remarked Sammy. "Last night I saw him slide out toward the hen-house as
though he didn't want any one to see him. Maybe he had an appointment
to meet some other Chinaman there for all we know."
"More likely he went out to get some chickens so that you could have
fried chicken legs for lunch," replied Frank.
"But why should he go out at night for that?" persisted Sammy.
"Because it's easier to pull chickens off their perch than it is to
chase them round the yard in the morning," gibed Bob. "You can't make
any mystery out of that, Sammy."
The laugh that followed silenced Sammy.
Their route on this morning led them over the little river that had
been the scene of their stirring adventure. They splashed through it
and over the ridge where they had almost been witnesses of the lynching.
Beneath the cottonwood tree they halted their horses and looked around
them with a feeling of awe.
"Here's just where the poor fellow stood with the rope around his
neck," observed George.
"And there's the bough that the rope went over," remarked Sammy,
pointing upward.
"I wonder what they did with the body?" asked Bob.
"Carried it away with them, I guess," replied Frank. "There's no sign
here of a grave having been dug."
They breathed more freely when they got away from the neighborhood of
the fateful tree. To them it had all the appearance of a gallows.
They rode on slowly, dismounting at times to investigate bits of
woodland where it would be difficult to take their horses, and the time
passed so quickly in jest and laughter that they were surprised when
George announced that it was time for lunch.
They chose a place in a grove of trees through which a little brook ran
that furnished them with water. The horses were turned out to graze and
the boys settled down to their lunch. It disappeared like magic and the
deliciousness of the fried chicken legs made Sammy revise his opinion
of Tom Lee.
They stretched out on the grass afterward, so comfortable and well fed
that it was hard to resist the temptation to take a nap.
George was the first to be aroused by a drop of water falling on his
face. He opened his eyes sleepily and was surprised and alarmed to see
that a storm had come up while they were dozing and was just ready to
break. Already the first drops were falling and they kept coming faster
and faster.
Rumblings were heard in the distance and a jagged flash of lightning
zigzagged across the sky.
"Wake up, fellows," cried George. "There's a storm coming. Get a move
on."
They jumped to their feet in consternation. It was not good to be
caught in a thunder storm so many miles from home.
They were moving toward their horses when there came a terrific peal of
thunder accompanied by a lightning flash that almost blinded them. At
the same instant a great tree, split to the base by the lightning, fell
with a tremendous roar right back of the horses, narrowly grazing them
as it fell.
[Illustration: A GREAT TREE, SPLIT TO THE BASE BY THE LIGHTNING.]
The frightened beasts, with a neigh of terror, sprang forward and in
a moment were running away. They were frantic and although the boys
shouted to them they paid no attention.
The boys ran after their mounts but soon saw that this was useless.
The horses were badly frightened, and would not stop until they were
exhausted or had reached home.
The boys huddled together disconsolately under the trees. The rain now
was coming down in torrents.
"We mustn't stay here, fellows," said George. "The lightning may strike
another tree. We must get out into the open."
"We'll be drenched to the skin," grumbled Frank.
"Can't help that," returned George, decidedly. "It's better to be wet
than dead."
There was no denying this, and they had to leave the shelter of the
trees. They crouched down in the lee of some stunted bushes but these
offered little protection.
"If we were only near that cave of ours," mourned Bob.
"Or any other old cave," amended Frank. "I'm not particular."
"I feel as wet as if I'd just been fished out of the brook," complained
Sammy.
"You'll be wetter yet before you're through," was all the comfort
George had to offer.
"Impossible," groaned Sammy.
"How far off do you think we are from the ranch, George?" asked Bob,
despairingly.
"Fifteen miles if we're an inch," answered George.
"Jiminy!" exclaimed Frank. "Fifteen miles to walk and your shoes
sloshing water at every step."
"It may not be so bad as that," observed George, trying to pick out
what bright spots he could. "This storm may not last long, and if the
sun comes out we'll soon be dry again. Then, too, the horses, when they
get over their fright, will make a bee line for home. Mr. Claxton will
know there's something wrong and he'll send out some of his men to hunt
us up. They'll take us up behind them and we can ride double till we
get to the ranch."
"How are we to know in what direction the ranch is unless the sun comes
out?" questioned Frank. "I haven't any idea how to get home without the
sun or a compass."
"Neither have I," George had to confess. "But I guess we'll make it
somehow."
This was not very reassuring, and it became less so as the storm kept
on with no sign of stopping. Two or three hours passed, and the boys
were getting desperate. Then, at last, the rain ceased to fall. But it
was well on in the afternoon, and there was no prospect of getting home
till long after dark.
They set out, however, in what they thought was the right direction.
But, as has been said, this was an unfamiliar part of the ranch to
them and there were no landmarks to guide them. They soon grew utterly
bewildered. The lowering sky gave them no indication of what was east
or west.
Then, too, their hope of getting help from the ranch grew less and
less. The heavy rain had washed out all traces of their horses' tracks,
and the cowboys, who could easily have trailed them on a fair day, had
no chance at all on this sodden ground. It began to look as though
they would have to pass the night on the prairie, wet to the skin and
without food and shelter.
They were trudging along dispiritedly, when George, who was in front,
suddenly gave a joyous exclamation.
"Hurrah, fellows!" he shouted. "I see a fire!"