A SURPRISE.
The settlement in which Uncle John and Ned lived was composed of two
classes of men, the farmers and the ranchemen. The former devoted
themselves to tilling the soil, and the ranchemen to raising cattle for
market. The ranchemen did not like their neighbors, for every farm that
was located and fenced in took away just so many acres of their pasture,
and the farmers did not like the ranchemen, because their cattle broke
down the fences and destroyed the crops. The little difficulties that
were constantly arising between these two classes of men gradually gave
way to greater ones, until at last the farmers began shooting the stock
that broke into their fields, and the ranchemen revenged themselves by
shooting the farmers. This led to a state of affairs that can hardly be
described; but the troubles had all been satisfactorily settled, and
would, perhaps, never have been thought of again if Ned Ackerman's evil
genius had not put it into his idle brain to raise another "neighborhood
row," as he called it, just to be revenged upon the settlers for paying
so little attention to him. His Cousin George urged him to abandon the
idea, telling him in so many words that, if he persisted, the country
would be made too hot to hold him; but Ned would not listen. He and Gus
Robbins shot the cattle, as we have described, and their punishment
followed close upon the heels of it.
George Ackerman was unlike his Cousin Ned in every respect. He was
industrious and saving, and by his own unaided efforts he had
accumulated property in stock worth six thousand dollars. He spent
almost all his time in company with his herdsman, Zeke, in taking care
of these cattle. He preferred living in camp to living at the rancho,
for the old house did not seem like home to him any longer, and neither
did his relatives act as though they wanted him there. The truth of the
matter was they did not want him there, and they had not been long at
the rancho before they began laying plans to drive him away. In order to
accomplish this, Ned urged his father to take George's herd of cattle
away from him, believing that if it were done, George would be too badly
discouraged to raise another, and that he would go off somewhere to seek
his fortune, leaving him and his father to manage the estate as they saw
fit. But George positively refused to surrender the herd for which he
had worked so long and faithfully, and said, more by his manner than by
words, that if Uncle John attempted to take it from him by force, he and
Zeke would make a most desperate resistance.
The conversation our hero had with his uncle on this subject took place
one morning just as George was getting ready to start out with a fresh
supply of provisions to join his herdsman, whom he had left on the
prairie with his cattle. It was some days before he found him, for Zeke,
having seen signs of an Indian raiding party, had moved the herd farther
away from the river, in order to insure its safety. But it was not safe
even then, as George soon learned to his cost.
The same band of cattle-thieves who had made the attack on the ranche
for the purpose of securing the strong box in which Uncle John kept his
money, found the herd and stampeded it. They drove the cattle right over
George, who threw himself into an old buffalo wallow, and thus escaped
being trampled to death. Two of the raiders kept on after the herd to
turn it towards the river, while the others provided themselves with
blazing brands from the camp-fire and searched the woods until daylight.
George, who could see all their movements, thought they were looking for
Zeke. The old fellow carried a repeating rifle, and when the raiders
appeared he made a stubborn fight, severely wounding several of their
number, and George thought they wanted to capture him, in order that
they might take revenge on him for it.
When the cattle-thieves went away, George filled his haversack with the
bacon and crackers they had left in camp, and set out for home on foot,
his horse and pack-mule having been driven off with the herd. A few days
afterwards he fell in with one of the wounded raiders, who had been left
behind by his companions, and from his lips he received some items of
information that astonished him not a little. He learned that an attack
had been made upon the rancho, that his Uncle John was laying plans to
get him out of the way so that Ned could inherit the property, and that
Philip, the Mexican cook, a man of whom George had always been
suspicious, was assisting him in carrying those plans into execution.
Springer (that was the name of the wounded cattle-thief, who had once
worked for George's father) assured the boy that it was through Uncle
John's connivance that the raiders knew where to find George's cattle,
and that it was George himself, and not Zeke, whom they were looking for
when they were searching the woods with their firebrands. If they had
found him, they would have taken him across the river into Mexico--what
they would have done with him after they had got him there, Springer
said he didn't know--and Uncle John would have rewarded them for it by
bringing in a thousand head of cattle and pasturing them near the river,
so that the raiders could come over and capture them at their leisure.
When the man had finished his story, George divided his small stock of
provisions with him, put him on his horse, and resumed his journey
toward home. He did not know what to think of the news he had just
heard, and he finally decided that he would go straight to Mr. Gilbert,
who was an old friend of his father's, lay the matter before him, and be
governed by his advice. He was obliged to camp one more night on the
prairie before he reached Mr. Gilbert's rancho, but he did not pass the
night alone. He had two visitors, one of whom was the owner of the
stolen horse for which Ned had traded, and to which he had held fast,
even after he knew that the man of whom he received him had no lawful
right to him.
The visitors did not know who George was, and consequently they were
very communicative. They told him all about Silk Stocking, and
threatened to do something terrible to Ned when they found him. They
were sure they would recognise him anywhere by the clothes and ornaments
he wore. They were looking for a boy wearing a Mexican sombrero, a
buckskin coat with silver buttons, high patent leather boots, the heels
of which were armed with silver-plated spurs, and who carried a
riding-whip with an ivory handle. They found a boy after a while who
answered to this description pretty nearly, and they--well, we have not
come to that yet.
George was greatly alarmed by what the men told him. He knew that his
cousin had got himself into serious trouble by holding fast to the horse
after he knew the animal had been stolen, and he could see no way to get
him out of it. If he had been satisfied that the men intended to punish
him in some lawful manner, it is probable that he would not have thought
of trying to save him from the consequences of his folly; for George was
a law-abiding boy, and he did not believe in assisting a culprit to
escape, even though that culprit might be his own cousin. But he had the
best of reasons for believing that his visitors had made up their minds
to take the law into their own hands, and knowing that they had no right
to do that, he resolved to save his cousin from their fury, or at least
to delay them in their search until he could see Mr. Gilbert, and ask
him what he thought about it.
When morning came the men, who had lost their way, asked George to put
them on the road to Mr. Ackerman's rancho, but he didn't do it. He sent
them thirty-five miles out of their course, after which he set out for
Mr. Gilbert's house, where he arrived just at dark. He told his old
friend all his troubles, not forgetting to repeat what Springer had said
about Uncle John and his plans, and Mr. Gilbert, in return, told him
some bad as well as some good news. The good news was that George's
horse and mule were safe in his (Mr. Gilbert's) corral; that Zeke was
unharmed, and that, with the assistance of some of the settlers he had
recaptured every one of George's lost herd. The bad news was, that Ned
and his friend, Gus Robbins, had been shooting Mr. Cook's cattle, that
all the ranchemen in the neighborhood were very angry at them for it,
and that they were going to meet at Cook's on the following day and
decide how they would punish them.
This last piece of intelligence made George all the more anxious to
reach home in order to warn his cousin, and Mr. Gilbert urged him to
lose no time in doing it. The best thing Ned and Gus could do, he said,
would be to go North and stay there until the events of the last few
days were forgotten; and as for Uncle John, he wasn't fit to be any
boy's guardian, and George had better take measures at once to have a
new one appointed. Our hero thought this advice worth acting upon, all
except that portion of it relating to the selection of a new guardian.
He could not bear the idea of disgracing his father's only brother.
Uncle John might be guilty of the offences with which he was charged,
and then again he might not. He had nothing but Springer's word for it,
and he would wait until he had better evidence than that before he took
any action in the case.
While the two were talking the matter over, the owner of the stolen
horse and his companion arrived. They had learned that they had been
sent a long distance out of their way, and they were in very bad humor
over it. While Mr. Gilbert entertained them, George slipped out of the
house, mounted his horse, which one of the herdsmen had saddled for him,
and started for home with all haste. Every body there was surprised to
see him, for Zeke had brought the news of his disappearance, and he was
given up for lost. More than that, the trail along which he had just
passed was watched by men who had orders to make a prisoner of him and
take him across the river. They were instructed to watch for a boy on
foot; but George came on horseback, and so passed them in safety.
Ned and his friend, Gus Robbins, were greatly alarmed when they heard
what George had to say to them, and so was Uncle John. They agreed to
every thing he had to propose, and in a very few minutes the three boys
were mounted and riding away in the darkness. George had used extra care
to enter and leave the house without Philip's knowledge, but the crafty
Mexican knew just what was going on. His first act, when the boys were
out of sight, was to put the owner of the stolen horse and his companion
on the wrong trail, and his next, to hunt up the two men who had been
ordered to capture George, and tell them that he had started for
Brownsville. Then he came back and told his employer what he had done,
and if George could have overheard their conversation, he would have
needed no better evidence that his uncle was his enemy. There was one
who _did_ overhear it, and who showed what he thought of it by knocking
Philip down.
George was overtaken and captured the next day while he and his
companions were in camp, and the last time we saw him his captors were
just starting to take him across the river. Before he took leave of his
cousin he received permission to change clothes with him, and it was a
very fortunate thing for Ned that he did so. The latter was twice
brought face to face with the owner of the stolen horse, who was
following him with the greatest perseverance, and if he had been dressed
in his nobby suit, he would have been recognised and pounced upon at
once.
When George was taken from them, Ned and Gus were left to find their
own way to Brownsville, which they reached in due time, and a very
unsociable pair they were, too. Ned very unreasonably charged his friend
with being the cause of all his troubles, and told him that he had
better go home and stay there. This made Gus so angry that he scarcely
spoke to Ned during the journey, and when they reached Brownsville he
left him without saying good-by. It was a long time before Ned heard of
him again. Where he went, and what he did, we have yet to tell.
As soon as Ned reached Brownsville he "dressed himself up like a
gentleman," as he expressed it, and waited impatiently for the arrival
of his father. Uncle John came at last, and took Ned around to his hotel
and up to his room, where we now find them, and where they had spent an
hour or more in talking over the incidents of the last few days. Ned was
surprised at the anxiety his father exhibited to learn all the
particulars of George's capture. He was obliged to tell the story over
and over again, and when Uncle John had heard all he wanted to know, he
dropped George entirely, and would not speak of him if he could help
it.
"He is glad George has gone," thought Ned, "and it wouldn't surprise me
in the least to know that he had something to do with his disappearance.
Well, if he _has_ gone for good, I don't see what I can do about it. I
don't see why I should cry over it, either, for I am master of a cool
forty thousand a year. I little thought, while I was handling the
yard-stick in old Robbins's store and working for starvation wages, that
I should ever be a millionaire. Forty thousand a year! How in the world
am I going to spend it, I'd like to know! Of course I must go to
Europe--all the gentlemen go there--but first I'll go to Foxboro' and
lord it over some of those fellows who used to slight me because I was
nothing but a dry-goods clerk. But, after all, I don't know that I blame
them. I shall not renew my association with those clerks, for a
millionaire ought to be particular in regard to the company he keeps."
"Now make up your mind where you want to go and we will leave
Brownsville to-night," repeated Uncle John, slapping his son familiarly
on the shoulder and breaking in upon his meditations. "We have nobody
but ourselves to look out for now that George is gone, and we can do as
we please."
"But he might escape and come back, you know," suggested Ned.
"I hardly think--I am afraid he will not be so fortunate," replied Uncle
John. "Those cattle-thieves are a desperate lot of men."
"Don't you think you ought to go back to the rancho and make some effort
to find him?" inquired Ned.
He asked the question simply to see what answer his father would make,
and not because he wanted him to act upon the hint thus thrown out.
"And put myself in danger for nothing?" exclaimed Uncle John. "That
would be the height of folly. How could I help him while he is across
the river in the hands of those desperadoes? They may have made an end
of him already. Mr. Gilbert, who thoroughly understands the temper of
the people in that settlement, advised me to go away for a while, and I
shall certainly do so."
"And when we come back I shall be the lawful master of the finest estate
in Texas," exclaimed Ned, with great enthusiasm.
"I confess that it looks that way now," replied Uncle John, who,
although he was as highly elated as Ned was, controlled himself better.
"Have you any idea what you will do with your wealth?"
"I know one thing," answered Ned, "and that is, I'll not live in Texas.
I'll leave an agent in charge of the ranche and go up north where white
folks live. They won't snub me because I wear good clothes. Who's
there?"
The bell-boy, who knocked at that moment, evidently took this question
for an invitation to enter. At any rate he opened the door, saying as he
thrust his head into the apartment--
"A gentleman to see you, sir."
[Illustration: GEORGE'S UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE]
Uncle John and Ned jumped to their feet in the greatest surprise and
consternation. The former could not have told just what he stood in fear
of, but Ned could. He fully expected to see the owner of that stolen
horse stalk into the room; but if that gentleman had made his
appearance, Ned would not have been so utterly confounded as he was at
the sight of the visitor who came in. Uncle John and Ned took just one
look at him and dropped back into their chairs without speaking. It was
George Ackerman. He looked as natural as life, and was apparently
none the worse for his short sojourn among the cattle-thieves. His
presence there proved quite conclusively that Ned was not yet lawful
master of the finest estate in Texas.