The Lakewood boys on the Lazy S

By L. P. Wyman

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Title: The Lakewood boys on the Lazy S

Author: L. P. Wyman

Release date: July 23, 2024 [eBook #74045]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: A. L. Burth Company, 1925

Credits: Al Haines


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAKEWOOD BOYS ON THE LAZY S ***







[Transcriber's note: Unusual spellings are as printed.
A Contents has been added for reader convenience.]





[Frontispiece: Then he turned as if on a pivot and with a
suddenness which all but unseated the boy.
(_Page 51_) ("_The Lakewood Boys on the Lazy S_")]




  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS
  ON THE LAZY S

  By L. P. WYMAN, PH.D.

  Dean of the Pennsylvania Military College


  AUTHOR OF
  "The Lakewood Boys in the Frozen North," "The
  Lakewood Boys and the Lost Mine," "The Lakewood
  Boys and the Polo Ponies," "The Lakewood
  Boys in the South Sea Islands,"
  "The Golden Boys Series," etc.



  A. L. BURT COMPANY
  Publishers New York

  Printed in U. S. A.




  The Lakewood Boys Series

  A SERIES OF STORIES FOR BOYS 12 TO 16
  YEARS OF AGE

  BY L. P. WYMAN, PH.D.

  Dean of the Pennsylvania Military College

  The Lakewood Boys in the Frozen North
  The Lakewood Boys on the Lazy S
  The Lakewood Boys and the Lost Mine
  The Lakewood Boys and the Polo Ponies
  The Lakewood Boys in the South Sea Islands

  Copyright, 1925
  By A. L. BURT COMPANY

  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS ON THE LAZY S

  Made in "U. S. A."




  Contents

  Chapter

  I. The Rescue
  II. Mr. Leeds Tells a Story
  III. Slim and Slats
  IV. Bob "Learns how to Ride"
  V. A Sidewinder
  VI. Bob Captured
  VII. Bob Makes a Convert
  VIII. The Raid
  IX. Suspicions
  X. On Watch
  XI. Skeets Stages a Farce
  XII. The "Tail" of the Mountain Lion
  XIII. The Round Up
  XIV. Conclusion




  THE LAKEWOOD BOYS ON
  THE LAZY S.



CHAPTER I.

THE RESCUE.

"That cloud over there's coming this way pretty
fast, Bob."

"Does look rather squally for a fact, but I've just
got to have it out with that pickerel.  The beggar's
stole three frogs already and I simply can't let him
get away with a thing like that."

"Make it snappy, then.  It's going to rain inside
of ten minutes and, from the looks, it'll be some
rain."

With a long cast Bob Lakewood threw his fourth
frog far over toward a patch of lily pads and, for a
moment, held his rod, a look of keen expectancy on
his face.

"He's taken it again," he announced a moment
later.  "Now hurry up and gobble it down then we'll
see who's who."

"Bet you miss him again," his brother grinned.

Bob made no reply but gave a sudden sharp jerk
to the pole.  This time there was a decided resistance
at the other end of the line and he hurriedly began
to reel in.  But before he had recovered more than
a few yards the big fish, evidently making up its
mind that it had come far enough, made a sudden
rush for the lily pads and the reel hummed as the
line cut through the water.

"He's a big one, all right," Jack shouted.

Bob was pressing on the drag as hard as he dared,
hoping to stop the fish before it reached the pads,
knowing that once among them it was as good as
lost.  He succeeded just as he was about to give up
hope and began reeling in once more.

"Stand by with the net," he panted.

Jack obeyed but the fish had not yet given up the
fight and, although the greater part of the line had
been regained, the rush which followed took it nearly
all out again.  Four times this was repeated before
the fish, tired out with the struggle, lay gasping on
the bottom of the boat.

"He's a beauty," Jack declared.  "Six pounds if
he's an ounce and that's larger than any we've
caught in this lake."

A low but distinct rumble turned their attention
from the pickerel and Jack sprang for the bow and
began hurriedly to pull in the anchor.

"We've got to get a hustle on if we're going to
beat it in," he declared as he grasped the wheel while
Bob turned a small switch.  Instantly the boat
began to move, although there was no sound of an
engine.  A small but powerful electric motor, run
by a secret type of storage cell, took the place of
the usual gasoline engine.  Rapidly the craft gained
speed until, in less than three minutes, she was
cutting through the water at a rate of nearly fifteen
miles an hour.

"Better put up the top," Jack shouted a few minutes
later as the first drops of rain warned him that
they had started too late.

It took Bob but a moment to pull the canvas top
over the boat but it was raining hard as he resumed
his seat and moved the switch over another notch.
A sharp flash of lightning followed by a deafening
peal of thunder seemed a prelude to the sudden rush
of wind which swept over the lake kicking the water
into white caps all about them.

"She's a hummer, all right," Jack shouted, but
so loud was the howling of the wind that Bob
scarcely heard him.  "You giving her all she's got?"
he yelled a moment later.

"She's on the last notch," Bob shouted back, but
the crackling of the thunder added to the roaring of
the wind, made it doubtful if Jack heard him.

By the time they were half-way to the wharf the
lightning was almost incessant and the rain was
coming down in sheets, shutting out the shore and Jack
was steering wholly by instinct.

"Better slow her down," Jack shouted a little
later.  "I can't see more than a few feet ahead but,
unless we're off the course we must be pretty near
in."

"Just what I was thinking," Bob shouted as he
pushed back the lever several notches.

The wind being dead against them the boat
rapidly lost headway and Bob soon had to advance the
lever a couple of notches in order to maintain
headway.  The rain was falling so rapidly now that the
surface of the lake was almost smooth, the waves
being beaten down by the force of the water before
they could rise hardly above the surface.

"It must be a cloudburst," Jack yelled back.

"And then some," Bob added, shouting at the
top of his voice.

A few more minutes passed and suddenly Jack
shouted:

"Reverse her, quick."

Bob obeyed the order and the propeller churned
the water in the effort to overcome the momentum
of the boat.

"Just right."

The words came just as the boat struck something
with the slightest of shocks and, in another minute
she was securely fastened under the lea of the wharf.

"Talk about luck," Jack grinned as he shook the
water from his arms which had been soaked as he
reached out beneath the canvas top in order to make
the boat fast.

"Don't see how you did it," Bob assured him.

"Just pure luck," Jack repeated.  "My, but that
water's wet."

Bob was about to say something when a shrill cry
arrested his attention and, glancing out through the
tiny window in the side of the top, he saw a woman
struggling to make her way toward them.

"Now I wonder----" he began, but before he
could get any further the woman had reached the
side of the boat and was making frantic gestures for
him to come out.

"It's Mrs. Leeds," he shouted to Jack as, without
a moment's hesitation he pushed aside a flap of the
covering and crawled out onto the wharf.

He was drenched to the skin in an instant but, from
the woman's appearance he had judged that something
serious was the matter.  Nor was he mistaken.

"Clara's out there in a canoe," she cried, wringing
her hands.

"Which way?" Bob shouted back.

"That way," she replied, pointing down the lake.
"I saw her coming in just before the storm struck
and then the rain blotted her out and--and,----"  But
she could say no more.

"We'll get her," Bob shouted, jumping back into
the boat.

"Get the top down, quick, old man," he cried.
"We'll need all the eyes we've got.  There's a girl
out there somewhere and it's up to us to find her.
Make it snappy now."

The top was down and the boat untied by the
time he had finished speaking and in another minute
was racing down the lake.  The motor as well as
the cell was inclosed in a watertight casing so there
was no fear of the rain, which continued with
unabated fury, interfering with the running of the
boat.

They were now running nearly with the wind and
so great was the speed that Bob soon shut off the
motor entirely, and even then the boat sped through
the water at a rapid rate.

"She must be blown clear across the lake by this
time unless she capsized," Jack shouted after they
had been gone from the wharf about five minutes.

"God help her if she did," Bob cried straining his
eyes to pierce the wall of water which seemed to
shut them in on all sides.

"Better give her a little juice," Jack advised.
"We'll never catch a canoe at this rate.  It'll blow
faster than we will."

"Right you are," and Bob threw over the lever
a couple of notches.

The boat leaped forward like a thing alive and
for an instant the wind seemed to die down to a
gentle breeze, but he knew that it was blowing as
hard as ever.  Then, almost as quickly as it had
come, the rain lessened.  It was, as Jack afterward
declared, almost as though someone had turned off
a spigot.

"There's the canoe," Jack shouted a moment later
pointing to the right and, at the same time, swinging
the boat about in a wide sweep.

Following his gesture Bob saw the canoe, bottom
up, bobbing up and down on the waves, which, now
that the rain had nearly ceased, were running high,
and his heart sank within him as the certainty of the
girl's fate struck him.  But a moment later he was
electrified as Jack cried out that she was clinging to
the stern.  And now, as they came nearer he could
see that he was right.  A slim arm reached up out
of the water and a hand was fastened to a ring in the
end of the canoe.  But, even as he gazed, the fingers
lost their hold and were gone.

In an instant Bob had kicked off his shoes and
thrown aside his coat.  Then, as the boat swept up
close to the canoe, he disappeared over the side.
Down he swam, striving to pierce the water with his
eyes.  It must be pretty deep here, he thought,
kicking out more lustily as the pressure in his lungs
warned him that he must soon have air.  He failed
to reach the bottom before he knew that he must
give up and had just turned for the rise when his
eye caught sight of an object a few feet to his right.
It was she and with a prayer that he might be able
to hold out, he plunged desperately for her.  Grabbing
her by the hair he beat the water frantically
with his free hand and slowly rose toward the
surface, although it seemed to him that they were
stationary.

Would they ever reach the air?  His lungs seemed
on the point of bursting, but the thought of dropping
his burden never entered his mind.  Desperately he
worked his legs in an effort to hurry their progress.
Then, just when it seemed that he could stand it no
longer, his head broke through the water and he
breathed the life-giving air.

Raising himself as high as possible, so as to hold
the girl's head above water, he shook the water from
his eyes and looked about.  Jack was only a few
yards away and had already caught sight of him.

"Hold hard a minute," he shouted encouragingly.

Bob was certain that the girl was unconscious and
he feared that she might be dead, although he hardly
thought it likely, as she had been beneath the water
not more than two minutes at the most.  He trod
water with all his strength and, although it seemed
to him a long time, it was not more than a minute
from the time his head appeared above the water,
when Jack reached over the side of the boat and
lifted the girl aboard.  He quickly followed saying
as he climbed over the side:

"Full speed for home, old man, and I'll see what
I can do for her."

He had long been an expert at "first aid" and,
throwing a long cushion onto the bottom of the boat,
he placed her face down upon it.  Then, placing his
hands beneath her, he gently raised her up and held
her while the water ran from her mouth.  Then,
turning her onto her back he began raising and
lowering her arms in an effort to start respiration.
Soon he was rewarded by a faint tinge of color
which stole back to her face and a moment later
she gave a slight gasp and opened her eyes.

In spite of the wind, which still blew a gale, the
boat was plowing through the water at a good rate
throwing the white spray high on either side of
the bow.

"How did I----?" she whispered, but Bob placed
his fingers gently over her lips.

"Don't try to talk now, please," he cautioned her.
"You are safe and will be all right in a short time
but, just now, you need all your strength."

She obediently closed her eyes and, by the time
they reached the wharf some ten minutes later, she
was breathing easily and regularly.  Half a dozen
people, including the girl's mother, were on the
wharf, and they broke into shouts of joy as they
saw that the girl was safe.  Tears were streaming
from the mother's eyes as she took the girl from
Bob's arms and clasped her to her breast.

"My darling," she sobbed.  "I thought that you
were drowned, but, thank God, you are safe."

"You'll have to thank those two boys, too," the
girl whispered.

But when Mrs. Leeds turned from her daughter
to look for them they were no where in sight.
Hating to have a fuss made over them, Bob and Jack,
as soon as they were convinced that the girl was all
right, had hastened to their room in the hotel which
stood just at the end of the wharf.

As their folks were all away for a few days, their
own cottage, situated near the head of the lake, was
closed for the time being and they were boarding
at the hotel.

"Old Wesserunsette can pick up quite a fuss when
she gets her dander up," Jack laughed as he began
stripping off his wet clothes.

"I'll say she can," Bob agreed, glancing out of
the window.  "Look at those white caps out there.
It's no wonder she tipped over."

"And now, I suppose the boy hero will have to
marry the pretty girl he saved from a watery grave
and live happily ever after," Jack gibed and dodged
just in time to escape a wet shoe.  "Oh, well, if you
feel that way about it, I'll keep still," he laughed.

"You better had," Bob growled, struggling to
pull off a wet sock.

"What do you suppose became of that canoe?"
Jack asked a few minutes later.  "I forgot all about
it."

"Same here.  But I guess it'll be all right.  It
can't sink and it's probably been blown ashore by
this time."

"If it doesn't pound to pieces on the rocks."

"Well, it can't be helped now.  We'll have a look
for it after supper if the wind goes down."

"There goes the supper bell," Jack said a few
minutes later.  "I hate to go down for fear they'll
make a big fuss over us and I do hate that sort of
thing."

"Same here, but we've got to face it sometime
and I suppose we might as well go down now and
have it over with."

There were some twenty-five or more people in
the dining-room as they entered and their worst
fears were realized.  Everyone stood up as soon as
they appeared and a big man over in one corner
shouted:

"Three cheers for the Lakewood boys!"

The cheers were given with a will and all they
could do was to stand still and blush.

"Speech," someone shouted.

The room suddenly became quiet and Bob, after
a hasty glance around, as though looking for a
chance to escape, said:

"Thank you all but----"

"No buts about it," someone interrupted.

"All right," Bob said, "no buts goes, so we'll
again say thanks and let it go at that."  And he
hastened across the room to their table closely
followed by Jack.

A loud clapping of hands followed and then the
folks, aware of the boy's confusion, turned to their
supper, much to the satisfaction of Bob and Jack.

"Thank goodness, that's over," Jack whispered,
as he picked up his napkin.

"But here comes Mrs. Leeds and Clara," Bob
groaned.

The Leeds, mother and daughter, were from New
York City and had been at the lake only three or
four days.  The boys had noticed them several times
and had even remarked on the extreme beauty of
the girl, who was about seventeen, but they had
not met them formally.  The boys rose as they
approached their table.

"I--I do not know how to thank you," Mrs. Leeds
hesitated as she held out her hand to Bob.

"Please do not try," Bob smiled as he grasped
her hand.  "We are very glad that we were able
to do what we did."

"Modesty is a sure sign of true bravery,"
Mrs. Leeds smiled as she shook hands with Jack.

She then introduced Clara, who thanked them
very prettily but, as Jack declared afterward, "didn't
gush a mite," for which they were truly grateful.

"We expect Mr. Leeds to-morrow night," Mrs. Leeds
told them, "and I know you will like him."

"Everyone loves daddy," Clara added.

"We're going to take a look for the canoe after
supper," Bob said and added with a blush, "perhaps
you would like to go with us.  The wind has
about died down and it will be pleasant on the
lake."

"Oh, say we'll go," Clara looked imploringly at
her mother.

"Why, I'm sure we'll be delighted if we won't
be in the way," she assured them.

Both Mrs. Leeds and Clara showed great interest
in the motive power of the Chum, as the boys
called the boat, and Bob explained the motor and
the cell which operated it.  To the great satisfaction
of the boys neither of their guests referred
again to the rescue while they were on the water,
evidently sensing that it was their wish.

The run down the lake was quickly made and,
after a short search along the shore, they found the
canoe washed up on the sand and entirely uninjured.
They made the return trip more slowly, as
it was very pleasant on the lake just as the sun
was sinking behind the hills.

"I think I know how you feel," Mrs. Leeds said
as they parted an hour later, "but I must just say
thank you once more."

Although her words were so simple both boys
knew, from the tears which gathered in her eyes,
that they came from her heart, and they felt that
they had made some new friends worth having.




CHAPTER II.

MR. LEEDS TELLS A STORY.

Mr. Leeds arrived the next day and, shortly before
supper time, Clara met the boys in the parlor
of the hotel and insisted that they come over to their
cottage and meet him.  They were somewhat surprised
to find him a man well past fifty, as they had
thought of him as much younger.  As he rose to
greet them they noticed that he was very lame in his
right leg and he did not look as though he was in
good health.

"These are the boys who pulled me out of the
drink," Clara introduced them.

A most engaging smile lighted up the man's face
as he held out both hands toward them.

"I feel that I know you already," he said.  "Clara
has not talked of anything else since I got here and
her mother has run her a close second.  I--I hardly
know where to begin in expressing my feelings to
you.  You see, she is all we have and--and--"

In spite of himself his voice broke and Bob quickly
filled in the gap.

"Please do not try, sir.  We both know how you
feel and really it was nothing."

"Well, I like that," Clara declared.

Bob's face turned the color of a ripe tomato,
according to Jack's statement made later, and he
stammered:

"I--I didn't mean it that way, I--I----"

"I suppose you meant that it was nothing unusual
for you to save a girl from the briny deep," Clara
interrupted.

"Only it wasn't briny," Mrs. Leeds laughed and
her laughter, in which they all joined, did much to
relieve the situation.

"Maine is a great state, the greatest in the Union."

It was nearly half past eleven o'clock and the boys
were sitting with Mr. Leeds on the porch of the
latter's cottage.  Mrs. Leeds and Clara had retired
and the boys had started to take their departure, but
Mr. Leeds had begged them to keep him company
a while longer and it was he who made the above
statement.

"You don't have to tell us that," Jack assured
him.

"I suppose not.  You see, I was born here, that is,
in this state away up north in a little place called
Matagamon.  There were only about twenty people
there then and I don't suppose there are many more
now.  I don't imagine you ever heard of it."

"Oh, yes, we have, although we've never been
there," Jack assured him.  "Isn't it on the East
Branch of the Penobscot?"

"It sure is.  It's been nearly thirty years since I
have been there, but there isn't much territory
within a radius of fifty miles from the place that I
didn't know back in those days.  It was pretty wild
country then and, for that matter, I guess it is now."

"I'll bet you had lots of adventures," Jack ventured.

"Well, yes, I suppose you would call them that.
I owe this game leg to a bear."

"Oh, please tell us about it," Jack said as he
paused.

"Well, if it isn't too late and you care to hear
it----"

"It's never too late for us to hear a real bear
story," Bob laughed, as he hesitated.

"To begin at the beginning, then, I'll have to tell
you of an old legend which the old folks used to
tell us children when I was very small.  It seems
that nearly three hundred years ago a small tribe
of Indians had their dwelling place up near what is
now called Big Machias Lake.  By the way, the only
big thing about the lake is its name, as it isn't more
than a mile long.  In fact, it is really nothing more
than a widening of the Big Machias River.

"They were called the Tutehonekut'qin Indians
and, it was believed that they had made their way
overland from the Yukon River in Alaska, as there
used to be a tribe of that name there."

"I wonder if they were any relation to King Tut
of Egypt," Jack interrupted.

"Maybe," Mr. Leeds laughed.  "At any rate, they
were not poor relations for, according to the legend,
they were possessed of almost fabulous wealth, gold
and precious stones, being as common as are iron and
glass with us."

"But where did they get them?" Bob asked.

"Well, if there was any truth in it, they must, of
course, have brought their wealth with them from
far off Alaska.  But gold and jewels they had in
abundance.  But the pride of the tribe was Rippling
Water, the daughter of Mato-wopa-geya, chief of
the tribe.  She must have been a wonderful girl.
Straight and supple as a young sapling, with a
wealth of raven black hair, she could outrun and
out-paddle any of the braves of the tribe, so the legend
ran.

"But one day trouble, unbeknown to them, appeared
in the person of a young brave from another
tribe.  He came, he saw and was conquered in so
far as the maid was concerned, but, alas, he did not
conquer.  Rippling Water's heart had, for many
moons, been in the keeping of Wawiekumig, a young
brave of her own tribe, and she turned a deaf ear
to the wooing of the stranger.  Unfortunately, the
strange brave, being the son of a mighty chief, had
always had his own way and, instead of accepting
her refusal as a gentleman, he went away vowing
revenge.  Nor was it long in coming.  Before
another moon had passed a band of warriors,
outnumbering the Tutehonekut'qui many times, fell upon
them and wiped them from the face of the earth."

"Did they kill the girl?" Jack asked.

"The legend states that she was the only one left
alive and she was dragged away by the stranger.
But it also states that she died soon after and that
often, on a moonlight night, her spirit has been seen
and heard bewailing the fate of her people."

"Did they get the gold and jewels?" Bob asked.

"According to the legend they did not."

"Then what became of it?"

"It was hidden in a cave and to find that cave
was my mission when I met the bear.  You'll
probably think I was very foolish to take any stock in
an old legend but, as a matter of fact, I had rather
more than that to go on and I was only seventeen.
You see, about a year before I had gotten acquainted
with an old Indian, who lived all by himself on the
shore of Chesuncook Lake.  His name was Aquqarenuts,
meaning cross feathers, and it happened
in this way.  I was up there on a hunting trip with
my father, late in the fall, and we came upon the
old man's cabin purely by accident and found him
very sick with pneumonia.  We stayed and nursed
him and he lived.  He was very grateful and it was
the following summer while I was staying a few
days with him that he told me the legend I have
told you.  Of course, I had heard it before, but the
old Indian declared that he knew it to be true and,
needless to say, his words made a deep impression
on my mind, especially when he assured me that he
was a descendant of Wawiekumig, who, he declared,
had escaped the massacre.  It was a few months
later, during another visit, that he told me of the
hidden treasure.  It seems that the knowledge of
the hiding place had been handed down from one
generation to another."

"Had he never looked for it?" Bob asked as he
paused.

"He said he had not, explaining that gold would
be of no use to him.  But he, insomuch as he was
the last of his race, offered to take me to the place
and help me recover it.  You can imagine how eagerly
I accepted the offer.  It was, he said, in a cave
on the shore of Big Machias Lake.  There was but
one entrance to the cave and that was under water
and one had to dive and swim through to get in."

"No wonder it was never found," Jack declared.

"Big Machias Lake is about eighty miles to the
north of Chesuncook through the unbroken wilderness
and we planned to be gone two weeks.  Twenty
miles a day through those woods was a good day's
work, and he assured me that it would take several
days to get the gold-and jewels out.

"For three days everything went well and, when
we camped that night, he assured me that we would
reach the lake the next day.  But when I awoke the
following morning, Aquqarenuts was gone.  His
blanket was there on the ground beside me and, so
far as I could see, he had taken nothing with him,
not even his rifle.  At first I thought nothing of it,
supposing that he had merely gone a short distance
for some purpose and would soon be back.  But
when an hour had passed and he had not returned,
I began to feel uneasy, and at the end of another
hour I started out to look for him.  I didn't find him
and I never saw him again."

"But what happened?" Bob asked.

"That I never knew.  All that day I searched and
at night I was about the most worried and tired boy
you ever saw.  No, I never knew what became of
him.  Sometimes I have thought that he might have
repented telling me about the hidden treasure but,
inasmuch as he had already described the place so
that I could hardly help finding if, I hardly think it
likely.  No, I prefer to think that some wild beast
killed him and dragged him off to his lair, although
I confess it hardly seems possible.

"Well, I debated with myself until long into the
night, whether to go on and try to find the place by
myself or to give it up and go back.  I was well
versed in forest lore and did not doubt my ability
to find my way back.  But finally I determined that I
would try to find the lake, seeing that I was so near
and there was always the hope that the Indian would
come back.  So I started early in the morning and
was making fairly good time in spite of hard
traveling, when, suddenly, after pushing through a dense
clump of bushes, I came face to face with an enormous
black bear.  I know they say that a bear will run
from a man, but this one must have been untrained
in the way a bear should act when meeting a man
for, with a deep roar she charged straight for me.
Of course, she may have had a cub somewhere and
that would explain her action, but I didn't see any
and don't believe there was one.  My rifle was
strapped to my back and she was almost on me when
I got it pointed and pulled the trigger.  But she
didn't stop and before I had time to fire again she
had given me a cuff with her huge paw which sent
me flying end over end.  But my shot had pierced
her heart and the blow was her last effort.  As I
picked myself up I was conscious of an intense pain
in my right hip where the bear had hit me and to
my dismay I found that I was unable to bear any
weight on it.  That it was broken I had little doubt.
Imagine my situation.  To be sure I was much nearer
home than the place from which we had set out, but
it was all of forty miles away and probably nearer
fifty, and, to the best of my knowledge, there was
not a soul any nearer.  Fortunately I had food
enough to last me for several days, so there was no
danger of starving for the present at least.  But I
had no water, as we did not carry any, depending
on brooks and springs for our supply.

"It was not a cheerful situation, but I did not lose
heart.  I found that the only way in which I could
move was to hitch along on my left side and even
so every movement caused me intense pain.  But I
remembered crossing a small brook about a mile back
and I was resolved to reach it, if possible.  I
suppose I was an hour making a hundred yards.
Remember, I had to drag my pack along with me and
it was by no means a light one.

"That journey has always been a nightmare to
me, but I am not going to worry you with the
details.  It was nearly dark when finally I reached the
brook and never since have I tasted anything as
good as that water.  As you can imagine, I was
very tired and, in spite of the throbbing pain in my
hip, I fell asleep there by the side of the stream and
it was broad daylight when I awoke.

"I knew that I was in a serious position.  To
reach home in my condition was plainly out of the
question.  It had taken me the better part of a day
to cover a mile and at that rate it would take a
month or more to reach home, and long before that
my supply of food would run out.  Now my only hope
seemed to be to remain where I was, by the side
of the brook, and trust that some hunter would find
me while I was still alive.  Fortunately I had a good
supply of ammunition for my rifle and I decided
that I would fire a shot at intervals of two hours.

"The pain in my hip had now subsided to a dull
ache, although every movement still gave me intense
pain, so I kept as still as possible, moving only when
I was obliged to.  Well, it must be getting late, so
I'll have to cut my story short.  I was there a week
before two hunters, from my own town, found me.
They were three days getting me home and it was
another day before we could get a doctor.  He set
my hip and, under the circumstances, I guess he did
as good a job as was possible, but I never walked
straight again."

"And you never went back to look for the cave?"
Bob asked.

"No, it was a long time before I could walk at
all, but I told another fellow about it and he found
it, the cave, I mean, but there was no gold there."

"And did the Indian ever turn up?" Jack asked.

"No.  It has always been a mystery what became
of him."

Just then a clock in the cabin struck one and the
boys started up with an exclamation of surprise.

"Gracious, I didn't know it was so late," Bob
said.  "Thanks for the story.  Come on, Jack, we
must beat it."

"Just a minute," Mr. Leeds said, as they were
about to start off.  "When I said that Maine was
the greatest state in the Union, of course, I was not
referring to its size."

"I know there are other states larger," Bob
acknowledged somewhat grudgingly.  "I suppose
Texas is quite a lot bigger."

"Well, slightly," Mr. Leeds laughed.  "In fact,
few people this way have any idea as to its size.
Perhaps you will appreciate it when I tell you that
eight states of the size of Maine could be very
comfortably placed in Texas."

"Great guns, do you mean that?" Jack exploded.

"Figure it out for yourself," Mr. Leeds laughed.
"Maine has 33,040 square miles of territory and
Texas has 265,896."

"Some state," Jack gasped.

"Were you ever in the state?" Bob asked.

"Many times.  In fact, I own a fairly large cattle
ranch out there."

"What's its name?" Bob asked.

"We call it the Lazy S."

"That's rather a funny name," Jack suggested.

"Many ranches out that way have queer names,"
Mr. Leeds told them.

"This one takes its name from a small river which
runs through it.  You see, it is curved in the shape
of an S and the country is so flat there that there is
but a very slight current; in fact, it is only about a
half a mile an hour."

"I'd sure like to see it, the ranch, I mean," Jack
declared.

"I don't see why you can't," Mr. Leeds told him.

"Texas is a long way from here," Bob sighed as
they again said good night.

When, five minutes later, Bob snapped on the
light in their room, he looked at Jack and Jack
looked at him.

"Well?"

"Of course," Jack replied.

"Of course what?"

"Of course we're going to Texas."

"Who said so?"

"You did."

"I never mentioned it."

"Not in words, perhaps, but you looked at me,
didn't you?"

"I guess you're a mind reader, all right," Bob
laughed.  "To tell the truth, I was wondering how
you felt about it."

"Well, you know now, I reckon," Jack grinned.

"It would be wonderful," Bob mused.  "I've always
had a longing to see a real sure enough ranch."

"Same here.  Any reason why we shouldn't go?"

"I don't know of any, that is, unless father objects
and I don't know why he should."

"Well, he'll be back to-morrow and we can ask
him," Jack declared as he turned out the light and
tumbled in to bed.




CHAPTER III.

SLIM AND SLATS.

Mr. Robert Lakewood was a well-to-do manufacturer,
and, having entire confidence in his boys,
both as to their moral character and their ability to
take care of themselves, he, shortly after his arrival
the following day, made no objection to the proposed trip.

"I have known Mr. Leeds by reputation for some
years and have met him once or twice," he said, "and
if he is willing for you to go, I think it will be a
wonderful experience for you."

It turned out that, as soon as the owner of the
ranch learned that they really wished to go and that
their father was willing, he was most enthusiastic
and declared that he would at once write to his
foreman and tell him that they were coming and that
they were to have the full run of the ranch.

"You'll like Jeb," he told them.  "There's a real
he-man for you and what he don't know about the
cattle business simply doesn't exist."

* * * * * * * *

"Some folks shore has all the luck."

"Meaning what, Slim?"

"Slim" Jones, a man who, in his high-heeled
boots, stood all of five feet three inches and weighed
fully a hundred and eighty pounds, glanced quickly
up at his companion, a tall, lanky individual, who
responded to the name of Slats.

"Meaning jest what I said, that's what.  Here
I've got to hitch up and drive all the way inter Cold
Springs ter meet them eastern dudes an' all you
gotter do is ter stay here an' mend fence."

"Slats" Magee laughed as he drew himself up
to his full six feet four.

"You poor child," he drawled.  "You shore do
seem ter have it rubbed in ter ye fer a fact.  But,
as the preacher said, 'it's never so bad but it might be
worse,' so cheer up, ol' timer, an' put the best fut
first."

"Easy 'nough ter give advise when ye're on the
safe end," Slim growled as he got up from the nail
keg on which he had been sitting.

"Tell you what'll I'll do jest ter show there's no
hard feelings.  I'll flip a coin ter see who goes and
stays ter mend fence."

"Yer mean it?"

Slim looked slightly incredulous as he felt in his
pocket.

"Shore thing, but no whining if yer lose."

Slim had pulled a half-dollar from his pocket and
as he rested it on his thumb-nail preparatory to
snapping it into the air, he said:

"Never a whine.  How yer want it?"

"Heads I stay, tails you go."

"Righto, here she goes," and he spun the coin high
in the air.  "Tails it is," he announced disgustedly
an instant later.  "Didn't I tell yer as how some
folks has all the luck.  I hain't a whinin' now, I'm
only makin' a statement o' fact."

"It's shore too bad," Slats consoled him.  "But
you'll enjoy the trip if yer only make up yer mind to
it."  And he started off toward the corral while the
mournful loser, with a deep sigh of disgust, turned
toward the huge barn.

"Much obliged jest the same fer givin' me a
chance," he called back over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it, ol' timer," the other shouted
back.

It was some two hours later when Slim Jones
driving along the rough and dusty road on the way
to the town, suddenly drew rein and, as the bronchos
came to a willing stop, he muttered "heads I stay,
tails you go."  Several times he repeated the phrase,
each time a little louder until the last time he was
almost shouting.

"Why, if it hadda come heads I'd a had ter go
jest the same," he declared.  "The onnery slab-sided,
red-haired skunk.  If he tells the boys I'll never hear
the last of it.  I'll stretch his onery hide on ter the
barn door fer that, I will, sure's my name's Slim
Jones."  Then, after a moment's thought, he
continued his soliloquy.  "If I warn't more'n half-way
there I'd turn back and make him go."  For several
moments he sat in deep thought and finally a slight
grin began to spread over his broad features and,
picking up the rein, he muttered:

"Well, if he don't tell no one mebby I'll only
shoot him full o' holes."

The ultimate destiny of Slats Magee having been
settled to his satisfaction, Slim tightened the reins
and clucked to the drowsing bronchos whereupon
they started off with a sudden jump which all but
jerked him over backward.

"Hey, thar," he shouted, "don't ye know enough
ter start up without yanking the bottom out o' all
creation when I step on the gas?"

Evidently mistaking his question for a command
the bronchos stopped so suddenly that it was only
by the merest chance that Slim saved himself from
pitching over the dashboard.

"What the Sam Hill's got infer yer onery hides?"
he shouted as he drew himself back onto the seat.
"Seem's how ye think I got no right ter give orders,
but I'll larn ye if ye go ter cuttin' up any more
didoes.  Now yer better start up easy like 'f ye want
ter keep yer skins on whole."

As if sensing that the driver meant business the
bronchoes started off again this time breaking into
a swift trot which seemed to suit Slim, for he settled
back in his seat with a sigh of relief.  An hour later
the buckboard swung into the main street of the
sleepy little town of Cold Springs and on toward
the station at the farther side.

"Yep, train's on time.  Be here in 'bout twenty
minutes more or less," the station agent old him as
he paused by the open window.

But it was nearly an hour before the train pulled
in and Slim, pacing up and down the platform nearly
had, what he called, the fidjets before the whistle
was heard far down the line.  But nearly all things
come to an end sooner or later and he brightened up
as he saw two boys, the only passengers to alight,
swing off the rear steps as the train came to a
standstill.

A large trunk was dropped from the baggage car
to the platform and in a moment the train had
disappeared around a curve just beyond the town.

"Guess them's my freight, all right," Slim muttered
to himself as he stepped toward them.  "You
the fellers what's goin' out ter the Lazy S?" he asked
pausing a few feet away.

"Yes, sir, that's where we want to go," Bob replied.

"Well I come in ter git ye."

"Then you must be Mr. Jones."

"Hey?"

"I said you must be Mr. Jones," Bob repeated.

"Don't know the gent.  He may be----" then
Slim stopped short and turned as red as his thick
coating of tan would allow.  "Now you mention it,
my name is Jones," he said slowly.  "Yer see," he
grinned, "that's the first time I've been called
anything 'cept Slim fer so long that hanged if fer a
minute, I didn't remember what my proper handle
is, but it's Jones, all right."

"My name is Robert Lakewood and this is my
brother John, but our friends call us Bob and Jack,"
Bob explained.

"But how'd you know my handle?" Slim demanded.

"Why, Mr. Leeds told us about you," Bob replied.

"An' me not bein' hard ter describe I reckon yer
had not much trouble in recognizing me.  Yer see,
I'm the only fat man on the ranch an' that's why
they call me Slim.  But I reckon we'd better be
hittin' the trail or we won't get back afore dark.
You wait right here till I get the team an' we'll pull
freight.  Yer see, I had ter hitch the bronks a piece
down the street 'cause they ain't used ter the cars,
but I'll be right back."

"Reckon we'll like that fellow," Bob said as soon
as Slim was out of hearing.

"I do already," Jack agreed.  "But he's sure a
character, all right.  Do you suppose he can ride a
horse?"

"If they've got one strong enough," Bob laughed.

"Anyhow, there's not much danger of his feet
dragging on the ground," Jack declared.

Meanwhile Slim was talking to himself as he
strode down the street to where he had hitched the
bronchoes.  "Them fellers don't seem as bad's I
expected.  Mebby we can make real men out 'o 'em
'f they stay long enough."

The boys were sitting on the trunk when he drove
up a few minutes later and almost before he had
brought the bronchoes to a stand they had it on
the back of the buckboard.

"They don't have ter be waited on, that's sure,"
Slim thought as he proceeded to rope the trunk fast
and his opinion of them went up several points.

"How long will it take to drive out to the ranch,"
Bob asked.

"'Bout three hours."

"How about getting something to eat before we
start?"

"Might get a plate o' beans down ter Jake's, but
we'll have ter hurry."

Jake's was anything but an inviting place to eat
to the boys, accustomed to cleanliness, and their first
impulse was to tell their guide that they were not so
hungry after all but, fearful least they might offend
him or at least create an unfavorable impression in
his mind, they said nothing.  To their great surprise,
however, the food was good, very good, in fact, and
both declared that the beans were the best they had
ever eaten.  Perhaps a keen appetite was, in part at
least, responsible for their decision.

The boys could see that Slim was in a great hurry
to get started, so they made as quick a meal as their
appetites would permit and soon they were whirling
out of town in a cloud of dust, Bob on the seat with
the driver, while Jack was perched somewhat
precariously on top of the trunk behind.

"We'll change seats every few miles," Bob had
promised him when he had insisted that he had just
as soon ride there as on the seat.

For the first few miles hardly a word was spoken.
Slim had made up his mind that he was not going to
take a fancy to "the Eastern dudes," and he hated,
above all things, to have to change his opinion.  So
he had answered "yes" and "no" to their questions
and tried his best to be disagreeable.  But it was
contrary to his nature and little by little he forgot
his predetermined role and, as Jack told Bob a little
later, began to thaw out.  So by the time they were
half-way home they were talking freely and Slim
had been obliged to acknowledge to himself that they
didn't seem so bad after all.  Not that he had given
over his determination to have nothing more to do
with them than he could help, unless it was to make
their existence at the ranch so uncomfortable that
they would cut short their visit as soon as it could
be brought about.

"Are there many rattlesnakes out here?" Bob
asked after they had been a little over two hours on
the road.

"Some."

"Big ones?"

"Some."

It had just occurred to Slim that he was not living
up to his resolve seeing that he had been taking the
lead in the conversation for the past few minutes
and so he again began to answer in single words.

"How about Indians?" Jack asked.

"Some."

"Are they civilized?"

"Some."

"Some what?" Bob broke in.

In spite of himself a grin appeared on Slim's good
natured face and the ice began to thaw again.

"Some Indians and they're some civilized."

"Do you ever shoot them?" Jack asked.

Slim turned his head with a sudden jerk.  He had
the notion that the boy was trying to kid him, but
Jack's face was perfectly sober.

"Wal-l," he drawled, "yer know they're under the
protection of the government an' they fine us two
bits apiece for every one we shoot and that makes it
some expensive as a sport so we don't shoot more'n
about a dozen or so a day."

"I guess you didn't get me," Jack laughed.  "I
meant snakes, not Indians."

"Oh, snakes.  Why bless yer soul, just day afore
yesterday we shipped three barrels o' snake oil fer
the second time in a week and there's about a
spoonful ter a snake."

Slim's face was perfectly straight as he made
the statement and Bob gave Jack a sly wink as a
signal to swallow the story.

"They must be rather thick," he said soberly.  "It's
a wonder we haven't seen any along the road."

"Wal-l, yer see, it's a little late in the day fer 'em
ter be out now.  They mostly come out long 'bout
nine o'clock in the mornin' and get back inter their
holes afore the dew begins ter fall.  Yer see, the
dew gets their rattles wet and when they're wet they
kinder stick together and don't work very well, in
fact, yer can't hear 'em much more'n a mile away
unless they're good an' dry."

"And how far can you hear them when they're
in good working order?" Bob asked.

Slim looked at him a moment before answering.
He was not quite sure that he was getting away
with the yarn, but there was nothing in the boy's
face to indicate that he was not taking it all in good
faith, so he answered:

"Wal-l, o' course, it depends some on the way the
wind's blowing.  I had a pet snake last summer an'
we used him ter call the boys home ter dinner an'
sometimes they'd be all of five mile away, but
o' course, him bein' a pet, we couldn't make him
rattle very hard, 'cause they do that only when they're
good an' mad."

"My but it must be pretty dangerous around
here," Jack suggested.

"All depends on how quick yer are at dodging
'em.  Yer know they can't jump more'n 'about
twenty feet."

"But I always thought that a rattlesnake could
only jump about its own length," Bob said.  "You
don't mean that they grow twenty feet long, do
you?"

"Twenty feet ain't nothin'."

"How long was the biggest one you ever saw?"
Jack asked.

"Wal-l, I can't exactly say as ter that, but it was
some more'n twenty feet, 'cause he was going inter
his hole an' I only saw the last thirty feet or so."

Bob winked at his brother again and Jack said
without a trace of doubt in his voice:

"That must have been some snake."

For a few moments there was silence, then Bob,
thinking it would be a good plan to change the
subject, said:

"Is the soil rich out here?"

"Soil rich!  I 'spect we've 'bout the richest soil in
th' world out here.  All yer have ter do is ter stick
something in the ground and it'll grow, all right.
Yer can raise anything out here, that is, most
anything 'cept pumpkins."

"And what's the matter with them?" Jack asked
soberly.

"Wal-l, yer see, the soil's so rich that the vines
grow so almighty fast that it wears the pumpkins
all out draggin' 'em over the ground."

"That's too bad," Jack declared, "but can't they
hitch an anchor or something of the sort to them and
slow up their speed a bit?"

Slim gave Jack a searching glance as he asked
the question.  He was still a trifle uncertain as to
just how far he was getting away with his yarns.
But the glance evidently reassured him, for he went
on:

"Wal-l, I dunno.  One fellow tried hitchin' one
of 'em to a tree with a lariat rope but, laws sakes,
it didn't do no good.  Busted the rope like it was a
burnt thread an' he give it up."

During the last half hour they had been climbing
a long hill and now, as they reached its top, a scene
of surpassing beauty stretched out before them.  A
broad expanse entirely hemmed in by lofty hills
reached for miles, beginning, as it seemed, almost at
their feet.

"Thar's the Lazy S," Slim announced, pointing
toward a set of buildings located near the center of
the basin.

"It's sure pretty," Jack declared "How big is
the ranch?"

"'Bout ten thousand acres more or less ter the
ranch itself, but the cattle range a lot farther'n that."

"Some farm," Bob muttered.

The bronchos had been inclined to lag coming up
the long hill but now, as though they realized that
home was near and supper waiting for them, seemed
imbued with new life and Slim had his hands full
to hold them as they swept down the mountain and
around sharp curves at a pace which, more than
once, made the boys catch their breath.  Bob
especially, who at the time was riding on the trunk, was
obliged to cling on with both hands to the back of
the seat.  Several times he was on the point of
asking if they were not going faster than was safe,
but the thought that the cowboy would think that
he was frightened, restrained him and he gritted his
teeth and hung on.  But he breathed a sigh of relief
when they reached the bottom and swung out onto
the plain.

It was about an hour later when they drove into
the yard of the ranch house, a long one-story
building with a broad porch reaching across the entire
front.  A tall gaunt man, his lean face tanned to
the color of brown leather, rose from the low chair,
as they drove up.

"Just in time for supper," he greeted them as he
stepped from the porch and reached out a hand to
each of them.

"This is Mr. Stebbins?" Bob asked as he grasped
the hand.

"At your service," the man smiled, "though I'm
better known as Jeb around these parts."

"We're very glad to know you and we want to
thank you for sending the buckboard over for us,"
Bob assured him as he jumped to the ground.

"Oh, that's all right.  Slim needed a vacation,
anyway, and I don't suppose there's much about the
country here that you don't know now," he grinned
as he cast a searching glance toward the cowboy
who was standing at the broncho's heads.  "Slim
sure does like to talk about the country and he's all
right, unless he lets his imagination get away with
him then you want to look out.  Hope you haven't
been stretching things, Slim," he added.

The cowboy turned his face away as he bent over
ostensibly to examine one of the broncho's feet and
muttered something in a tone too low for them to
catch.

"I see," Jeb smiled as he began unroping the
trunk, "you want to discount everything he's told you
about five hundred percent and you'll probably get
things about right."

"Supper's getting cold, Dad."

The boys looked up to see a girl about their own
age standing in the doorway and, as Bob later
confided to Jack, she was a sight for sore eyes.  Her
face, tanned a rich olive, bore a most engaging smile
and her regular clean-cut features gave her a beauty
which somehow seemed out of place in the rough
setting.  She wore a simple gingham dress, but it was
spotlessly clean and fresh.

"This is my daughter, Sue," Mr. Stebbins introduced
her.

Both boys felt the blood rushing to their faces as
they acknowledged the introduction, but the girl
greeted them with a grace which at once put them
at their ease.

"The pump's out back and as soon's you've washed
up we'll have supper," Jeb told them as he led the
way into the house.  "Musn't keep Charlie waiting,"
he cautioned them.  "He's the chief cook and bottle
washer here and if we don't humor him he's apt to
get sulky and then it shows in his cooking."

Charlie, they learned a little later, was a
Chinaman of uncertain age, who had been on the ranch
for many years and they were not long in finding
that what he did not know about cooking was, as
Jack declared, mighty hard to discover.  Whatever
else they did at the ranch it was evident that they
did not stint themselves on food, either as to
quantity or quality and, as the long ride had given them
a keen appetite, they did full justice to the meal.

"Now, Sue, you'll have just about time before
dark to show the boys around the place," Jeb said
as he pushed back his chair.

"Righto," she agreed as she led the way from the
room.  "How long was Slim's rattlesnake to-day?"
she laughed a moment later.

"Well, he didn't set any definite length to it,"
Bob smiled.  "He said he only saw the last thirty
feet of it as it was going into a hole."

"Thirty feet!  Was that all?  Slim must be losing
his grip.  Did he spring the pumpkins on you?"

"Yes, he told us they were the only things they
couldn't raise out here," Jack smiled.

"Slim's really a dear," she told them, "but he does
love to tell big stories.  You mustn't believe only
about half what he says, and you want to look out
for Slats Magee.  He's a dear, too, but he loves to
play jokes on folks, especially strangers, and some
times he goes a bit too far.  Those two boys are
a pair and you mustn't be a bit surprised at anything
they do.  Most of the time they're scrapping
together, although they really think the world of each
other.  But they'd never in the world acknowledge
it.  You won't be here long before Slim will tell
you what a terrible desperado Slats is and, from
what Slats'll tell you about Slim, you'd think he had
committed every crime known to the law, murder
included."

By this time they had reached the immense barn,
larger by many times than they had supposed a barn
could be, and they were intensely interested as their
guide led them from one part to another.

"How many horses do you keep?" Bob asked.

"About forty, I guess.  They're out back in the
corral.  We'll go out there after a bit, but first I
must take you over to the shack and introduce you
to the boys."

"How many are there?" Jack asked.

"Just an even dozen."

Several of the "boys" were pitching horse shoes
while the others were watching the game and it was
evident that an exciting match was in progress, for
they did not see them until they were standing close
behind.

"Boys, I want you to meet Bob and Jack Lakewood,"
Sue said suddenly, and the way the cowboys
snatched off their hats proved to the boys that their
fair guide was held in high esteem by them.

"This is Slats Magee, and Slim you've already
met.  And this is Reds," indicating a tall, rangy
individual whose bright red hair was a constant
source of fun to his fellows.  "There's no use of
mentioning last names, as they never use them and
I doubt if all of them know what they are
themselves," she explained as she continued.

"And this is Spike, and Stubby and Bleary and
Shorty and Fats," indicating a man well over six
feet and so slender that Jack later declared that he
could qualify as the living skeleton in a circus.

"And this is Big Foot and Freckles and Runt and
last, but by no means least, Grumpy.

"He isn't really grumpy, you know, he only looks
that way."

The "boys" acknowledged the introduction with
good grace, but both Bob and Jack were aware of a
feeling of hostility in the air which, however, they
were unable to define.  It was as though somehow
they did not quite belong but were being accepted as
a necessary evil.

"Now, we'll go look at the horses before it gets
dark," Sue said, and the game of horse shoes was
at once resumed.  "You mustn't mind if the boys are
a bit slow about warming up to you," the girl said.
"You see, they're naturally suspicious of strangers,
as we don't see very many out here, but as soon as
they get acquainted they'll be all right and you'll
find them as good a bunch as you ever met.  Do
you ride?"

"Some," Bob replied.  "They teach cavalry at the
military college we attended last year."

"That's fine.  I'm crazy about riding and we'll
have one before breakfast to-morrow morning if
it suits you."

"Couldn't be better," Jack assured her.

Bob and Jack both loved horses and were fairly
good judges of horse flesh, and they were agreeably
surprised when they saw the beautiful animals in
the corral.

"What beauties," both declared in the same breath.

"We think they're pretty good," the girl said and
at the sound of her voice a splendid bay mare
separated herself from the rest and trotted toward her.

"This is my mare and her name is Lady," she
told them as she pulled a big lump of sugar from
her pocket.  "Lady always expects sugar whenever
she sees me," she explained.

"And I'll bet she gets it," Jack laughed.

"That's right, isn't it, Lady?"  And by a gentle
neigh Lady declared that it was.




CHAPTER IV.

BOB "LEARNS HOW TO RIDE."

"I told Slats to bring the horses around in fifteen
minutes, so if you want any breakfast you'd better
get a hustle on."

The boys had just come from their room and as
it was only a little after six o'clock, they were
surprised to find Sue waiting for them.  She was clad
in a neat riding habit and looked very much like a
handsome boy.  She declared that she had had her
breakfast hours ago, and chided the boys for being
such sleepy heads.  They finished the meal well
within the specified time and found her waiting for
them on the porch.  At the same time Slats appeared
leading three horses.

"Where did that horse come from?" Sue asked
pointing to a large vicious-look roan.

"Jeb bought him along with three others yesterday,"
the man replied.

"Well, why in the name of common sense, didn't
you bring one that you knew was all right?  What
do you know about that horse?  He looks as though
he might be a killer."

"He needed exercise and I reckoned he'd be all
light, but, of course, if they're afraid of him I can
take him back and get Betsy.  She's safe enough,
I reckon."

Something in the man's voice told Bob that he
was offering him a dare and that he would be thought
a coward if he refused it, so he said:

"Don't bother.  I'll ride him."

"Not so you'd notice it," Sue said.  Then, turning
to Slats, she ordered:

"You get White Foot and make it snappy."

Slats turned to obey but not before he gave Bob
a look which made him determined to ride the horse
at any cost.

"Please let me have him."

"You mean it?"

"Sure thing."

"All right, then.  Your blood be on your own
head."

As Sue had said, the horse had a bad look about
the eyes and Bob knew horses well enough to realize
that he was probably in for a bad half-hour, but, like
most boys of spirit, he hated to take a dare.

"You be careful, now," Jack whispered as he
stepped to the side of the horse.

"You bet I will," he replied, then, turning to Slats,
was holding the horse by the bridle, he asked:

"What's his name?"

"Satan."

It seemed to Bob that there was a note of exultation
in his voice as he spoke the name but he thought
that, perhaps, it was only his imagination.  Grasping
the pommel of the saddle he vaulted lightly to
the seat and grasped the reins.

Now, Bob was an excellent rider, but here he was
at a disadvantage owing to the fact that he had
always used the English saddle and this one was of
the Western type with a high horn in front.  Then
the stirrup straps were all of two inches too long
and he had no time to adjust them for Slats let go
the bridle, as soon as he was in the seat.  For an
instant Satan stood perfectly still as though trying
to make up his mind what to do first.  Then he
turned as if on a pivot and with a suddenness which
all but unseated the boy.

"That horse has never had a saddle on before,"
Sue declared angrily.

"Yes, he has, too," Slats replied.  "Grumpy rode
him last night."

He did not add that, in spite of Grumpy's experience
riding bad horses, he had been thrown three
times.

"Well, if he gets hurt you'll hear from me," Sue
threatened him.

Meantime, Satan, having failed in his first attempt
to unseat his rider, was trying other tricks.  Bucking
and leaping high in the air and coming down
stiff-legged, having failed to accomplish his purpose,
he finally succeeded in getting the bit between his
teeth and started for the corral.

"Gee, but he can ride," Sue cried clapping her
hands.

"If those stirrups were the right length he'd be
all right," Jack said.  "But as they are they're not
much use to him."

"He shore is some rider," Slats acknowledged
generously.

Bob, realizing that he must get control, in a
measure at least, before the corral was reached, was
tugging at the reins with all his strength and
succeeded when only a few feet from the fence.  Then,
Satan stopped with a jolt which nearly threw him
over the pommel.  Maddened at this last failure,
Satan next tried standing on his hind legs.  Up he
rose until he was standing nearly vertical.  Bob
leaned as far forward as possible, sorely tempted to
grab hold of the horn of the saddle, but he had read
that "pulling leather" was as good as acknowledging
defeat, so he kept his hand away and clung to the
reins.

"He's going over backwards," Sue gasped.

She was right.  Satan, whether by intention or
otherwise, lost his balance and came down with a
crash on his back.  But Bob had thrown himself
from the saddle in time to escape being caught and,
as the horse scrambled to his feet, he was again in
the saddle before he had a chance to bolt.

"All ready for the next one," he cried as he dug
his spurs into Satan's ribs.

It was the first time he had used the spurs and, for
an instant, the horse seemed too much surprised to
move.

"Go on, start something," Bob shouted just as
Satan began to buck again.

Up and down he went and for several minutes
Bob had all he could manage to keep his seat, but
he stuck to it and finally the horse, now breathing
heavily, stopped bucking and stood still.

"Next," Bob tried digging in the spurs again.

This time Satan again got the bit between his
teeth and started for the open prairie.  Bob did not
try to free the bit this time but let him run.

"He's going to win out sure as shooting," Sue
cried, again clapping her hands.

"He's a plucky kid, all right," Spike, who had
joined them, declared.

"And some rider," Fats agreed.  "I shore never
saw anything pruttier than the way he sidestepped
him when he went over back."

It was nearly an hour later when Bob returned
riding a thoroughly subdued horse.  Out on the
broad prairie they had fought the last of the battle
and finally, covered with sweat and with sides
heaving as he painfully expelled the breath from his
nostrils.  Satan had realized that he had found his
master.  After that Bob had dismounted and, standing
at his head, had talked soothingly the while he
stroked the beautifully shaped head.

"Now, then, old boy, you and I are going to be
chums," he told him as he gave him a lump of sugar
which he had slipped into his pocket that morning.
"And there'll be no more spur work," he added.

Although beaten Satan was not yet entirely ready
to acknowledge full allegiance to his new master,
but Bob continued patiently to talk and little by
little the trembling lessened and at the end of fifteen
minutes after he had dismounted, Satan was nosing
his shoulder in complete surrender.  Then Bob rode
him slowly back to the house.

"You did it!  You did it!" Sue cried as he came
within speaking distance.  "Oh, it was wonderful
and now he'll always love you."

"I reckon we'll get along all right now," Bob said
modestly as he slipped to the ground.  "And isn't
lie a beauty?  And run, why that horse can almost
fly."

"Well, son, you did a good job and he's your
personal property as long as you stay here," Jeb,
who had come from the barn as Bob rode up, declared.

"Thank you, sir.  I wouldn't ask anything better,"
Bob assured him.

A week passed.  Every day the boys had taken
long rides with Sue and sometimes her father had
accompanied them.  Satan had proved all that Bob
hoped and was devoted to his master.  Jack had
been allotted a splendid mare named Midnight, as
she was as black as coal, and almost as fleet as Satan.
The cowboys on the ranch were gradually thawing
out, as Sue called it, having learned that the boys
were not at all "stuck up" as they had expected.
Bob, especially, they had accepted almost as one of
themselves, his horsemanship having paved the way
to their hearts.  Slim had even acknowledged that
"mebby that rattler wasn't more'n about twenty feet
long" and Slats had even gone so far as to confess
that giving him Satan to ride had been a put-up-job
on the part of the whole gang.

"But you rid him, dog on my boots if yer didn't,
an' it was a job as I would'd hated ter tackle," he
grinned.

Sue was a fearless rider and many a race had they
had, but Satan was too swift for the other horses,
although both ran him a close second.

"I believe that horse of yours can outrun anything
on four legs," Jack said at the close of a long
race as Bob waited for them to catch up with him.

"Shouldn't wonder if you're right," he agreed.

They had been at the ranch eight days and had
begun to feel themselves a part of it when Jeb,
returning from a trip to Cold Springs, entered the
dining room just as they were sitting down to supper.
From the look on his face Sue knew at once that
something was worrying him.

"What's the matter, Dad?" she asked.

"Who said anything was the matter?" Jeb smiled.

"Your face did.  Come out with it.  You know
you can't fool me."

"Don't I, though?" he smiled.  "Well, it's the
Hains gang again."

"Red Hains?"

"Yes."

"But I thought he had left the country."

"So did I, but if he did it seems that he's back
again.  I met Bob Fisk over at the Springs and
he said that he lost most a hundred head day before
yesterday.  Fisk owns the ranch next to us, just over
the hills to the right," he explained to the boys.

"But how did he know that it was Hains?" Sue
asked.

"Well, of course, he couldn't swear to it but he
and his gang were seen about a week ago just over
the border and they were heading this way.  So it
looks mighty like he was on the rustle again."  Then,
turning to the boys, he continued: "About three
years ago a fellow by the name of John Hains, but
better known as Red Hains, organized a gang of
cattle thieves and terrorized the country all about
here.  Posse after posse was organized to catch them
but with no success.  Several times we thought we
had them, but every time they slipped through our
fingers.  They were a ruthless gang and did not
hesitate at murder and more than a dozen men lost
their lives hunting them, to say nothing of the
thousands of head of cattle which they stole.  For nearly
two years they were active about here then, suddenly
they disappeared and not a thing has been heard of
them till the other day."

"Did you lose many?" Jack asked.

"Over a thousand head altogether and got off
better than most of the other ranches."

"How far away is Fisk's ranch?" Bob asked.

"About twenty miles to the house, and about half
that to where his land joins ours."

"And you think he may come here?"

"As likely here as anywhere else," Jeb said soberly.

"But how does he get away with that sort of
thing?" Jack asked.  "I mean, what does he do with
all the cattle he steals?"

"Well, that's what more than one man around
here would like to know," Jeb replied.  "But he
doubtless had a place somewhere up in the hills where
he drove them.  Then he would change the brands,
blot them, we call it, and as soon as the new brands
were healed, he probably would drive them over the
line into Mexico and sell them.  Many a week have
I spent along with others trying to find his hiding
place, but, although we combed the territory with a
fine toothed comb, so to speak, we never found it
Some of the old timers around here believe that he's
in league with the devil and hanged if it didn't look
very much like it sometimes."

"Did you ever see this Hains?" Bob asked.

"Once.  I met him face to face on the trail up in
the hills.  I knew him right away from the descriptions
I had heard of him.  He's a big man, well over
six feet and must weigh all of two hundred and fifty
pounds.  But his most distinguishing feature is his
bright red hair which he wears long after the fashion
of the old Indian scouts."

"And what happened?" Bob asked as the other
paused.

"Well, as luck would have it, I had my gun in my
hand at the time and when I saw him reach for his
I knew that it was one or the other of us, so I fired
point blank and him not more than ten feet away.
Then the next thing I knew I didn't know anything.
They found me several hours later lying in the trail
and after considerable fussing finally brought me
round.  Seems that his bullet has creased my
forehead and, seeing me drop from my horse, he had
ridden off supposing that he had killed me.  You
can see the scar now," he added, pushing the hair
back from his forehead.  "But what gets me is how
I could have missed him at only ten feet and I'm
considered a fair shot around here."

"Fair shot!  He's won the championship eight
years running.  That's how fair a shot he is," Sue
told them proudly.

"Was it possible that your gun missed fire?" Jack
asked.

"Not a chance.  I had filled the cylinder only a
short time before I met him and afterward I found
that one shot had been fired and, besides, I
remembered hearing the report.  No, I just missed him.
It must have been one of those peculiar things which
happen once in a while and which you can't explain.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand
I would have had him, but the one time I
missed."

"Is Hains a good shot?" Jack asked.

"Hains is a streak of lightning with a gun when
it comes to the draw and he has a reputation of
being a first rate shot.  If my gun hadn't been in
my hand at the time I wouldn't have stood a chance,
as he could beat me to the draw and not half try.
I see, you're wondering how he came to miss me or
rather to only crease me.  Well, I thought a whole
lot about that and I can figure out two guesses.  One
is that he did just what he meant to do and the
other is that my shot either wounded him or came
near enough to throw his aim off."

"And which guess do you favor?" Bob asked.

"Well, of course, I kind of like to think that I
didn't miss him altogether, but I don't know.
Sometimes I lean one way and sometimes the other."

"How large a gang does he have?" Bob asked.

"I don't know how many he's got now, but he
used to have six or seven."

The conversation then turned to other things and
nothing more was said about the cattle rustlers until
supper was finished.  Then, as he pushed back his
chair, Jeb said:

"You folks better stick pretty close to the ranch
for a few days at least till we see how things turn
out.  They may be hanging around or it may have
been only a flying visit, but it's best to play it safe."

"Who's afraid?" Sue taunted.

"I am," her father replied soberly and the smile
died from her face.

"You needn't be on my account," she said quickly.
"I'll be careful."

During the evening Bob and Jack were conscious
that the superintendent was worried, although it
was evident that he was trying to conceal it.  But
he was uneasy, going out of the house and coming
back at short intervals.

"Poor Dad, he worries more about those cows
than anything else in the world," Sue said a little
before nine o'clock.

"Do you suppose there's any danger?" Jack asked.

"I expect so.  Dad doesn't get all worked up for
nothing."

But the night passed and nothing happened.  Bob
woke once during the night and fancied that he heard
the murmur of voices just outside his window.  He
slipped quietly from the bed without disturbing his
brother and crept to the window.  But the sound
had stopped and, although it was bright moonlight,
he could see no one, and he went back to bed to
fall asleep almost immediately.

At breakfast Jeb seemed more cheerful.

"To tell you the truth I expected a visit from
those fellows last night," he told them.  "I had the
boys on the watch all night, but they didn't show
up and I'm beginning to think that maybe it was
only a flying visit and, perhaps, it wasn't Hains after
all.  Still, you'd better not get too far away from
home," he cautioned them.

For three days they did not go beyond sight of
the house.  No further reports regarding the bandits
reached the ranch and the worried look had nearly,
if not quite, left Jeb's face.




CHAPTER V.

A SIDEWINDER.

"Feel like a long gallop this morning?" Sue
asked the boys at breakfast a few days later.

"Never felt more like it," Bob replied and Jack
nodded assent.

"Where you going?" Jeb asked.

"I thought I take them over and show them the
Owl's Head."

"That's quite a piece."

"Only a little over twenty miles.  We'll take a
lunch along and be back in time for supper."

"I'm afraid it's hardly safe," Jeb said slowly.

"Oh, bother.  You don't suppose Hains and his
gang have been hanging around all this time without
doing anything.  That's not his style and you
know it.  If he had been near here we'd have heard
from him long before this."

"Probably you're right, but, for goodness sake,
be careful."

"Surest thing you know."

"What's the Owl's Head?" Jack asked.

"Why, it's a big rock up in the hills and it's
shaped almost exactly like the head of an owl.  It's
really worth seeing.  You aren't afraid, are you?"
she asked.

Of course, both boys quickly assured her that they
were not in the least frightened and she hurried to
the kitchen to see about the lunch.  They started
an hour later shortly before nine o'clock.  It was a
beautiful cool morning, although a haze in the air
prevented them from being able to see more than
an indistinct outline of the hill some ten miles away.

"We'd better take it easy," Sue cautioned them as
they rode out of the yard.  "It's pretty hard
climbing once we get to the hills and we want the horses
fresh when we start on it."

She struck off at an easy lope, which any one of
the horses could maintain all day, and they followed
close behind.  They had ridden for a little over an
hour when she suddenly drew rein and stopped.

"Can you see anything that looks like a man over
there?" she asked pointing in the direction they had
had been going.

"There seems to be something moving there,"
Bob replied, shading his eyes.  "How about it,
Jack?"

"I see it, but it's too far away to tell what it is."

"Maybe it's one of the boys," Sue suggested as
they started on again.

"How come we haven't seen any cattle?" Bob
asked.

"They're all over on the south range now," Sue
told him.

"Don't see anything of that fellow or whatever
it was," Jack declared a half-hour later.

"No, he seems to have disappeared," Bob agreed.

Sue had been very quiet since they had seen the
object and it just then occurred to Bob that she
seemed a bit worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked pulling up close behind her.

"Nothing.  Why?"

"You seem so quiet-like."

"Oh, I get that way, sometimes.  I was just
thinking."

"About that thing we saw?"

"Maybe."

"Think we'd better turn back?"

"How come?"

"Well, it's better to be careful, than sorry, you
know."

"Oh, I dare say it was only a deer or something.
Come on."

A short time later they reached the foot-hills and,
after a short rest they started on the climb.  It was
not steep at first and a winding trail, only wide
enough for them to ride in single file, made it easy
enough.  But as they got higher it became steeper
and the path rougher until the horses were obliged
to pick a place for each step with the greatest care.

"How much of this is there?" Jack laughed, during
one of their frequent stops to give the horses a
breathing spell.

"It's about five miles to the top and it's another
five down on the other side.  But, cheer up, we've
come nearly a mile and it doesn't get much worse
than this."

"Let's be thankful for small favors," Bob laughed.

"Oh, I think it's fun," Jack assured them.

The hills were heavily wooded and in many places
there was hardly more than room for them to pass
between the trees, so closely did they grow on either
side of the trail.

"Hark!"

Sue, who was riding a few feet ahead of Bob,
pulled up her horse.  "Listen," she said.

A sound as if someone was shaking dried peas
in a pasteboard box was plainly heard.

"What is it?" Bob asked.

"It's a sidewinder."

"A what?"

"Why, a sidewinder."

"Guess you'll have to explain."

"Oh, I forgot.  It's a rattlesnake.  We call them
sidewinders out here."

"Can you see him?"

"No, but he's right behind that rock just ahead."

As she spoke she drew a small but efficient
appearing automatic from her pocket and touched
Lady's sides with her heels.  As the mare took a
step forward the rattling sound became louder and,
leaning over to one side, Bob saw an ugly head rear
itself from behind the rock.  At the same instant a
sharp crack split the air and the head fell back.

"Got him," she cried, and they could hear a violent
thrashing behind the rock.

"There may be another," Sue cautioned them, as
she slipped from her horse.

She stood for a moment holding the reins in one
hand and the gun in the other.  "I guess he was a
bachelor," she said as the sound of the writhing
ceased and no more rattling was heard.

By this time the boys, too, had dismounted and,
leading their horses, they followed her as she stepped
toward the rock.

"All right, he's dead," she said a moment later
and, stepping up a bit closer, they saw the snake
stretched out at full length, which was not less than
five feet and with a bullet hole through its head.

"Some snake!" Jack gasped.

"Some snake is right," Bob agreed.

"I'll bet he's a twin brother of that one Slim saw
going into his hole," Jack declared.

"Not quite," Sue laughed.  "But he is a pretty
good sized one."

"Do they come any larger?" Bob asked.

"Well, I don't know's I ever saw but one larger.
One of the boys killed one last year that only lacked
an inch of being six feet and I've heard tell of seven
and eight-footers, but I take them with a grain of
salt."

"It would sure take some grain to digest that one
of Slim's," Jack laughed.

With the aid of a stick Bob drew the snake out
of the path and they remounted and started on again.
Up and still up the trail led until Jack declared that
they would be in the clouds if they did not get to
the top before long.

"It's only about two miles farther," Sue laughed.

"It must be the top of the world, then," Bob declared.

It was just noon when finally they arrived at the
summit.  For the last hundred yards there had been
no trees, nothing but rock, and the view was one
never to be forgotten.  Not far away, perhaps ten
miles from where they stood, ran the Rio Grande,
separating the United States from Mexico, and
beyond stretched wooded hills as far as the eye could
see.

"The first time I ever saw out of the United
States," Bob said.

"Same here," Jack agreed.

"I've been here a number of times and have, of
course, seen it, but I've never been over the line, or
rather the river," Sue told them.

After enjoying the view for a few minutes they
began the descent.  After the first few hundred feet
the trail was much smoother than on the way up
and, as the slope was much more gentle, they made
good progress and, in less than an hour had reached
their destination.

"Here we are," Sue cried as she pulled her horse
up and slipped from the saddle.

Following her outstretched hand with their eyes
they saw the rock, perched at the top of a low cliff
about a hundred yards from where they stood.  As
she had told them, it was an almost perfect image
of an owl's head and for some moments they stared
at it in wonder.

"Isn't it worth the trip?" she asked

"It sure is," Bob told her and Jack declared that
he would go twice as far to see it.

They remained there for an hour during which
time they ate their lunch and allowed the horses to
graze a short distance away where there was plenty
of grass.  They started back about two o'clock and
had nearly reached the top when Sue, who was a
short distance ahead of the boys, held up her hand
at the same time stopping her horse.

"There's some horsemen coming up the trail," she
said as they rode up.  "Hear them?"

"They listened and the sound of iron shod hoofs
striking the stones reached their ears.

"There's quite a number of them and I think
we'd better get out of sight till they go by," she
suggested.

"You think----" Bob began but she interrupted.

"You never can tell in this country.  Of course,
they may be all right, but then again, they may be
all wrong."

While she was speaking she was leading the way
to the right of the trail where dense bushes soon hid
them from the view of anyone on the pathway.

"There, I reckon this is far enough," she said
slipping from her saddle.  "I don't believe they can
see us here."

The boys dismounted and they stood there holding
their horses by the bridles.  They could soon
hear the men talking and laughing as they came up
the trail and, as Sue had said, it was evident that
there were not less than seven or eight in the party.

"I'm going to try and get a look at them," Bob
whispered, handing his reins to Jack.

"It'll be pretty risky," Sue told him.  "But I
would like to know who they are.  But be mighty
careful they don't see you."

"You bet I will," he promised as he left them and
crept through the thick brush back the way they had
come.

He was obliged to hurry for fear they would pass
before he could get to where he could see them, but
he was used to passing noiselessly through the forest,
having been taught the art by an old Indian up in
Northern Maine, and not a bush moved nor did a
sound betray his movements.  The voices of the
approaching party were rapidly becoming more plainly
audible and by the time he had gotten as near the
trail as he dared and had thrown himself at full
length behind a convenient bush from where he had
a fair view of the trail, they were close at hand.  He
tried to catch some of the words but was unable to
get the drift of the conversation, as they were
speaking Spanish and, although he had some knowledge
of the language, they spoke too fast for him to follow
it.

In a moment the leader came in sight, a big man,
riding a dark brown horse.  He wore an old black
sweater and heavy corduroy trousers, while his head
was covered with a broad-brimmed felt hat.  Somewhat
to his disappointment he noticed that the man's
hair was coal black.

"That's not Red Hains," he thought.  "Unless
he's dyed his hair."

The leader was closely followed by a second man
fully as large and dressed much the same except that
he wore a faded brown coat in place of the sweater.
The rest of the party, six in number, were of much
the same type but not one of them had red hair.

"That's about as tough-looking a bunch as I'd
care to see," Bob thought.  "But I guess it's not
Hains' gang.  At any rate, he's not with them."

The last man had come in sight when the leader
stopped.

"There's been a party along here," Bob heard him
say to the man behind him and he spoke English.

"What mak' you tink so?" his companion asked,
and from his accent Bob knew that he was a Canuck.

"Don't yer think I've got eyes?" the black-haired
man snapped.

"I tink you got ver' smart eye, you see dat."

By this time they were all bunched close together
and Bob could see that the leader was pointing out
to the others the signs by which he knew that
someone had been over the trail.

"Not an hour ago," he heard him say.

"Then why didn't we meet 'em?" a man asked.

"Because they must have turned off the trail," the
leader replied.

"Maybe they hide," another of the party suggested.

"Just what I was thinking," the leader said
quickly.  "And it's up to us to find out who they
are and where they went.  You stay here and I'll
scout a bit."

Bob waited to hear no more but crept softly back
the way he had come.

"There are eight of them and they're a pretty
rough-looking crowd, but none of them has red
hair," he told Sue and Jack as soon as he reached
them.

"Have they gone on?" Sue asked.

"No, the leader saw our tracks and is coming to
look for us."

"You say it isn't Red Hains?"

"Not if Red Hains has red hair.  This fellow's
hair is as black as night."

"What we going to do?" Jack asked.

"There's only one thing we can do," Sue replied.

"And that's----?"

"Wait right here.  You see, they'd be sure to
catch us if we ran for it and that would only make
it worse.  Perhaps they won't find us but they probably
will, and if they do, you let me do the talking."

As Sue had known it was not a difficult thing to
follow their trail through the thick bushes, and in
a very short time the black-haired man stood before
them.  He was on foot, having left his horse with
the others.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Sue Stebbins and this is Bob Lakewood
and this Jack Lakewood.  Who are you?"  Sue
showed no fear as she answered.

"Who I am don't matter," the man snapped.
"What are you doing here?"

"Is it any of your business?" Sue asked quietly.

"If I choose to make it.  I'm not alone," the man
scowled.

"Well, then, we were riding," she told him.

"Riding where?"

"Home."

"Where's home?"

"About fifteen miles from here."

"The Lazy S?"

"Yes."

"Where you been?"

"To see the Owl's Head."

"Where's that?"

"Guess you must be a stranger around here if
you don't know where the Owl's Head is."

"Maybe.  But you haven't told me where it is."

"It's at the foot of the hills."

"What is it?"

"Why, it's a big rock shaped like an owl's head."

"And you came from the Lazy S just to see it?"

"Yes, but why all the questions?  It's a free
country, isn't it?"

"For some people," the man scowled.

"Well, it is for us, so we'll be going.  Come on,
boys."  She gathered up her reins as if about to
mount.

"Not quite so fast," the man snapped.  "I've got
another question to ask you."

"Well, make it snappy.  It's getting late."

"Why did you hide when you heard us coming?"

"I thought you'd ask that.  Suppose I don't choose
to tell you."

"You'd better."

"Why?"

"Never mind why.  You answer my question."

"Is that a threat?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, I don't like threats."  Sue's black eyes
snapped as she spoke and both the boys wondered
what was coming next.  "So I don't think I will
tell you.  Now what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll soon show you," and the man took a step
forward, but Bob, unable to keep his hands off any
longer, sprang in front of him.

"You keep your hands off her," he demanded.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll make you."

"You'll do what?" the man sneered.

"Try it and see."

The man hesitated a moment, and Bob wondered
what was passing in his mind.  It was hardly
conceivable, he thought, that he was afraid of him,
especially when he had his friends so near at hand.
Perhaps it was something in the girl's eyes that
made him draw back.  At any rate, he made no
further movement toward her, and after giving Bob
an angry look, turned and strode off without
another word.

"Well, what do you know about that?" Jack asked
as soon as he had disappeared.

"I thought I could bluff him," Sue said, "but if
you hadn't stepped up to him as you did, I don't
know as it would have worked," she added turning
to Bob.

"Well, I'm mighty glad he let it go at that," Bob
assured her.  "I would have been a baby in his
hands."

"I'm not so sure of that," Sue said with an admiring
glance at him.  "I'll bet you would have kept
him busy."

"I'll say he would," Jack assured her.  "Bob's
some scrapper and knows how to take care of
himself when it comes to a rough and tumble."

They waited as the sound of the men's voices
grew more and more faint and when they could no
longer be heard, Sue proposed that they start.

"I was afraid that they'd come back, but I guess
they've really gone," she said.

They made their way slowly back to the trail stopping
to listen now and then, but there was no sign
of the men and, as soon as they reached the path,
they started for home as fast as they dared urge
the horses.  They had covered about half the
distance down the other side of the mountain when
Bob, who was in the lead, rounded a huge rock
which hid the trail from view, and almost ran into
a man, mounted on a roan horse.  He was a man
well over the average in size and had an abundant
crop of long red hair: Red Hains beyond the shadow
of a doubt.

Bob looked at the man for a moment too dazed
to speak, and the big man returned the scrutiny, a
cynical smile parting his lips.

"Wall, do yer see it?" he finally growled.

"I beg your pardon," Bob smiled.  "You see, the
surprise was so great that I fear I was a bit rude."

"Rude, eh, wall, I should say yer was rude,
staring at a man like he was a wild animal.  Whar
yer goin'?"

"Down the hill."

"Don't yer 'spose I kin tell that much?  I mean,
what's yer destination?  Is that plain?"

"Oh, you want to know where I live?"

"That's it."

"I live in Maine."

"Yer trying ter kid me?"

"No.  You asked me where I live and I told you."

"Whar yer stoppin' now?" the man demanded in
an angry tone.

"At the Lazy S."

"Now yer gettin' down ter brass tacks.  Why
didn't yer say so in the first place and save all the
wind?"

Bob made no reply to this question and, after a
moment, the man asked:

"Did yer meet some men a while back?"

"Yes."

"Whar 'bouts?"

"Just over the top of the hill."

"Wall, if yer know when yer well off yer'll keep
a still tongue in yer head 'bout havin' seen them an'
me, too," the man threatened as he started his horse
and pushed past them.

"That was Red Hains," Sue said as soon as he
was out of hearing.

"I reckon there's no doubt of it," Bob agreed.

"And those others must be his gang," Jack added.

"Surest thing you know," Bob assured him.

"Well, he sure does look the part," Sue declared
with a shrug of her shoulders.  "I wish they could
catch him."

"A consummation devoutly to be desired," Bob
smiled.  "But I imagine he's a pretty slippery
customer."

"You said it," Sue affirmed.

"Do you suppose his hiding place is anywhere in
these hills?  I mean the place where he hides the
cattle he steals," Jack asked.

"It's more than likely," Sue replied.  "You see,
it's only a few miles to the border and he'd
naturally choose a place not too far from the line so
that he wouldn't have to drive them very far."

"It seems likely," Bob agreed.  Then, after a
moment's pause, he said: "I've an idea.  Jack, you
ride home with Sue and I'll follow that fellow a bit
and who knows but I may find out where they hang
up."

"Not on your life," Sue objected.  "Boy, you
don't know what you'd be up against.  It's not
like your Maine woods where you know your way
around.  Besides, they're bad men, who would think
no more of killing you than they would of shooting
a steer."

"But I wouldn't let them catch me," Bob argued.

"Maybe not, but then again they might.  They
know this country and you don't and that gives them
a big advantage."

"But think of the opportunity.  They are probably
on the way to their hiding place and there may
never be so good a chance again.  It's worth the
risk."

"No, it isn't.  Remember, I'm responsible for you
till we get back to the ranch."

"But I'll be mighty careful and won't go far."

"Suppose you get lost?"

"Not a chance.  You see, I couldn't get lost on
these hills, as all I'd have to do would be to keep
on down hill till I got to the bottom and then I'd
be out of the woods."

They argued the matter for some moments and
finally Sue gave a reluctant consent, although Jack
shook his head and urged him to go on with them.
But Bob declared that it would be almost criminal
to let such a chance slip, and after a while he, too,
gave in.

"But you be home before dark," was Sue's final
command as they started off again.

"Sure thing," Bob agreed as he turned his horse
up the trail.




CHAPTER VI.

BOB CAPTURED.

"Maybe I am doing a fool thing," Bob thought
as he urged the horse up the rough trail.  "One thing's
dead sure.  I've got to be mighty careful, because
I'm up against a bad bunch and no mistake."

For a half-hour he pushed on as fast as he dared
urge the horse, stopping to listen every few minutes.
But no sound, save the rustle of the tree-tops as
hey swayed in the light breeze, came to him.  Whether
or not he was gaining on the man he could not tell,
but he had seen no sign of him when he reached the
top of the mountain.

"He must be making good time," he thought as
he paused to allow Satan to get his breath.  "I
wonder how far they'll follow the trail."  Then the
thought struck him that he was doing a very foolish
thing to expose himself there where there were no
trees to hide him from view and he at once started
to follow the trail down the other side.  "I must
keep my eyes open for a side trail," he thought a
few minutes later as he again plunged into the thick
forest.

He had gone, perhaps, a mile from the top when
his eye caught sight of a narrow path running off
toward the north.  The place where it branched off
the main trail was just beyond a huge pine tree and
was so well hidden that, had he not been on the
watch for just such a thing, he would never have
seen it.

"Now I wonder," he mused as he drew rein.
Then he slipped from the saddle and closely scrutinized
the entrance to the narrow path.  There had
been no rain for several weeks and the ground was
very hard and dry, but his knowledge of woodcraft
stood him in good stead and he had little trouble
in reading that several horses had turned off there
not long since.  The pathway was so narrow and
filled with rocks that it seemed to him almost
impossible that a horse could traverse if, and, after a
moment's thought, he decided to leave Satan there
and follow the new path on foot.

He led the horse into a deep thicket where there
was little likelihood that he would be seen by any
one passing along the trail and tied him to a small
sapling.  Then he plunged into the narrow trail jumping
from rock to rock the better part of the time.  He
figured that he could probably make better time on
foot than they would make on horseback, as they
would be obliged to go very slowly or risk breaking
a horse's leg.  It got worse as he went along and
had it not been for unmistakable signs, which his
trained eye was able to read, he would not have
believed it possible that a horse could get over the
ground.

"I must be gaining on them," he thought after
he had covered what he judged was a mile from the
main trail.

A moment later a rattlesnake gave his ominous
warning only a foot or two in front of him as he
reared his ugly head above a rock and the boy
jumped to one side so quickly that he slipped from
a rock and came down in a heap, giving his right
foot a sharp wrench.  The pain, for an instant, made
him sick but he crawled hastily backward until he
was several feet away.

"Here's a pretty kettle of fish," he thought as he
stood up and tested his weight on the injured leg.

To his great joy, however, he found that it was
only a slight sprain and that he could bear his weight
on it without causing a great amount of pain.  For
a moment he seriously considered the advisability
of giving it up and going back, but he was not made
of the stuff that gives up easily and he determined
to push on for a while at least.  But another sharp
rattle in front fold him that an enemy was protesting
his right of way.  He had an automatic in his
pocket and, as he was a good shot, he knew that
there would be little difficulty in disposing of the
protestor were it not for the fact that the shot would
be certain to alarm the men somewhere ahead of
him.

"That would never do," he thought as he picked
up a stone about the size of his fist.

The snake's head was out of sight as he straightened
up but rose into view as he took a step forward.
The distance was about ten feet and he hurled the
stone with all his strength but, to his disappointment,
he missed.  But he was more fortunate the
second time, the rock striking the snake's head fair
and square.  The head went down out of sight
behind the rock and he could hear it thrashing about.
He waited a few minutes then, picking up another
larger rock, stepped cautiously forward.  He had
no way of knowing how badly he had injured his
snakeship and, as the noise of the writhing had
stopped, he judged that he had either killed it or
else it was coiled ready to spring.  So he tossed the
stone in the air in such a way that it fell just behind
the rock which hid the snake from his sight.  It
made no sound when it struck from which he judged
that it must have landed on the snake.  He waited a
moment longer and, hearing nothing, judged that
the sake must be dead.  So he stepped nearer until
he could see over the rock.

The snake was dead, its head mashed to a jelly
by the second rock which had landed fairly on it.
It was a large one, fully as long as the one Sue had
shot earlier in the day.

"I'm going to keep those rattles," he said to
himself as he drew his knife from his pocket and cut
them off.

He could not make quite so fast time now as he
was obliged to favor his leg which now gave him
considerable pain when he bore his weight on it.

"If I don't meet up with something before long
I'll have to give it up, as I promised to turn up
before dark," he thought as he pulled out his watch
and noted that it was nearly four o'clock.  "If I
don't strike something in another half-hour I'll turn
back.  That'll give me time to get back before dark,
I guess."

It was about twenty minutes later when the sharp
crack of a rifle brought him to a quick stop.

"That wasn't very far away," he thought as he
listened.

Then, a moment later he heard the sound of a
man's voice off to his right.  He was unable to
distinguish the words although, from the sound, he
could not be far away.  The forest was very dense
and he felt sure that he could creep fairly close to
them without running much risk.  So he turned from
the path and, moving with extreme caution, crept
from tree to tree, listening all the while.  Soon he
heard the voice again and now it was nearer, so
near, in fact, that he had no difficulty in hearing
what he said.

"It's about time Red was gettin' here, don't you
think?" the voice asked.

"He'll get here all right, give him time," a second
voice replied.

"Wall, I don't like him bein' so confounded long
'bout it," the first voice growled.

"Aw, yer always a stewin' 'bout somethin' or
other.  Why don't yer take things easy like I do?"
a third voice broke in.

All the time the boy was creeping nearer until
finally, peering out from behind a thick clump of
bushes, he could see the men sitting beneath the
limbs of a large tree while their tired horses were
hobbled only a few feet away.  To his disappointment
there was no sign of any place which would
serve as a hiding place for stolen cattle.  He watched
for a few minutes and then, judging that he had
probably learned all that he could and that he would
have barely time to get back to the ranch before
dark, he got carefully to his feet and was about to
start when, suddenly a pair of powerful arms were
thrown about him and he was borne to the ground.
He realized at once that it would be useless to resist,
so he kept quiet and after a moment the man seized
him by the collar and jerked him to his feet.

"So it's you, eh," he said roughly.

"It would seem so," Bob replied quietly.

"Perhaps yer won't be quite so fresh in answerin'
my questions now."

Bob made no reply and the man asked:

"What yer doing here?"

"I guess it's plain enough," Bob replied.

"It's plain enough ter me that you were spying
on us."

Bob knew that it would be useless to deny the
obvious fact, so he said nothing.

"Can't yer speak?" the man growled.

"I can, but what's the use?"

"I guess yer're right thar.  I caught yer red-handed,
so ter speak.  But come on an' we'll see
what the rest of the gang think about it."

Still keeping his great hand on Bob's collar he
half-dragged and half-led him to where the others
were waiting.

"What yer got thar, Red?" one of them called as
soon as they came in sight.

"Name it an' yer kin have it," Hains laughed.
Then as he came into their midst, he continued:

"I caught this feller a piece back thar watchin'
of yer.  What'll we do with him?"

"Why, that the same boy that was with the girl
and other boy we found back a little way off the
main trail."

Both because he used better language than the
others and by his black hair and beard, Bob
recognized the speaker as the man who had found them
earlier in the day.

"So you met 'em?" Hains asked.

"Yes, and believe me the girl was as pretty as a
picture and she had some tongue, believe me."

"An' I 'spose that on account of her prutty face
yer let 'em go," Hains snapped.

"Not exactly on account of that," the man replied.
"But there didn't seem any reason not to."

"I 'spose not, but how 'bout this feller?  Want
me ter let him go?"

"That's a different thing entirely," the man said.
"He was caught spying on us and that makes a
difference."

"I'll say it does, a heap of difference," one of the
other men broke in.

"Wall, boys, what'll we do with him?" Hains
demanded.

"Give him a necktie party," one proposed.

"String him up," another shouted.

"Aw jest put a bullet whar it'll do the most good,"
a third suggested.

Bob was scared.  He knew that he was in the
hands of desperate men, men who would stop at
nothing if they thought their safety was threatened,
and his heart sank as he heard the suggestions from
the different members of the band.  How he wished
he had listened to Sue and his brother and was safe
back at the ranch.

"He's only a kid," suggested the black-haired man.

"But he big enough ter tell what he's seen,"
another declared.

"Sure he is, but what has he seen?"

"He's seen us, ain't he?"

"And so have a lot others."

"Aw, what's the use o' arguin' 'bout it I'll do
the trick," a man who had not spoken before, said
as he drew an ugly-looking revolver from his belt,
and Bob gave an involuntary shudder.

"Hold on thar, Tim," Hains ordered and the man
replaced the gun, growling something which Bob did
not catch.  "Let's get supper first an' then we'll tend
ter him.  Now, kid, you stay put right thar and if
yer try to get away yer'll get a bullet that'll stop
yer.  Get me?"

Bob did not doubt that the man meant exactly
what he said and he sank down on a rock with a
sigh which he could not repress.  Not that he had
given up hope, but he could not help feeling that his
situation was desperate in the extreme.  Perhaps
after all, he thought, the men were only trying to
scare him.  He tried to force himself to believe that
such was the case but got little comfort from the
hope.  Closing his eyes for a moment he breathed
a silent prayer for protection and, somehow, after
that he felt better.

By this time the men had a big fire going and all
were busy getting ready the meal except Hains and
the black-haired man.  They were talking earnestly
together a little apart from the rest, and it seemed
to the watching boy that the black-haired man was
urging the other to some course of action.  But, if
so, it appeared that his argument was not meeting
with much success, for Hains frequently shook his
head and finally turned away and went to where
the horses were hobbled and carefully looked each
one over as though to satisfy himself that none
could wander away.

The entire party seemed, for the time at least, to
have forgotten all about the boy, for no one paid
the slightest attention to him.  He watched them
carefully and, had it not been for his injured leg,
he told himself, he would have made the attempt to
slip away into the dense woods, trusting that he
might get enough of a start before he was missed to
enable him to escape.

But hampered, as he knew he would be, with the
sprain, he dared not risk it.  So he waited as
patiently as possible, wondering what the outcome
would be.  Finally the supper, consisting of lamb,
which they had roasted over the fire, potatoes and
hot coffee, was ready and the men began to eat
hungrily, still completely ignoring him.  Again he
was minded to attempt to get away, but the fear
of the injured leg again held him back.  He pulled
out his watch and saw that it was well past six
o'clock and he began to feel hungry.

After what seemed a long time, one of the men,
at an order from Hains, came to him bearing a
good-sized hunk of meat and a couple of potatoes
on a piece of birch bark, and a tin cup about
half-filled with coffee.

"Here yer are, Kid," he said.  "Eat, drink and be
merry, for ter-morrow, who knows."

He sat the food down on the ground and turned
back.  Bob picked it up and, although there was
neither knife, fork or spoon, he managed to eat it
all.  The potatoes were a bit soggy, but the meat
was good and he was surprised at the quality of the
coffee.

"The fellow who made that coffee knows his job
all right," he said to himself as he drained the last
of it.

Greatly to his surprise the men, after they had
cleaned up after the meal, continued to pay not the
slightest attention to him, and soon dusk began to
steal over the forest.  He could see that a number
of the men were playing cards on a blanket, which
they had spread on the ground in front of the fire,
while others, rolled up in their blankets, for it was
beginning to grow cool, were already fast asleep.
Apparently it was their intention to pass the night
there, and he began to wonder if, after all, it would
not be best to make the attempt to escape.  He could
hardly suppose that they had forgotten him, but
he could see no indication that they were aware of
his existence.

He had seen neither Hains or the black-haired
man since he had eaten and he wondered what had
become of them.  Were one or both of them concealed
somewhere where they could watch him?  If
he made the attempt to get away would it be to give
them the chance for which they were waiting?

"It's a toss up either way," he thought.  "If they
intend to put me out of business they'll do it sooner
or later unless I give them the slip, so I don't know
that I'd be much worse off even if I don't succeed.
I'm going to make a stab at it just as soon as it gets
a bit darker."

The game of cards evidently was getting more and
more exciting and he could hear the men as they
made their bids and often a violent oath broke from
the lips of first one and then another as the card went
against them.

Darkness settled rapidly and, a few minutes after
he had made his decision, he was able to see only a
few feet from where he sat unless he looked toward
the fire.

"As well now as any time," he thought as, without
making the slightest sound, he began to hitch
himself farther away from the fire.  He moved three
or four feet and then stopped and listened, watching
the men to see if they were aware of his movements.
But the game went on with no abatement and foot
by foot he increased the distance between them and
him.  At no instant would he have been in the least
surprised to have felt those powerful arms close about
him or even to have felt the impact of a bullet.  But
nothing happened and soon he felt that he was
far enough away to get up and run for it.  Although
he was in the dense forest the trees were not very
close together and there was little or no underbrush,
which enabled him, even in the darkness, to make
fairly good speed, and at the end of another ten
minutes, he felt that he was reasonably safe, at least
so far as they were concerned.

But he well knew that not yet was he out of the
woods, either literally or figuratively speaking.  Could
he find his way back to where he had left Satan?  He
was not so sure that he could, but he thanked God
that he had, at least, escaped from what had at the
time, seemed almost certain death.  If he only had
a flashlight, he thought as he slowed down his pace
and began to hunt for the narrow trail which led to
the main path.  Once he found that he felt that he
would be reasonably safe and he thought that he
was moving in the right direction but could not be
certain.  He knew how difficult it was to maintain
a correct sense of direction in the woods, especially
at night.

Soon he was sure that, had he been going in the
right direction, he ought to have reached it and
turned sharply to the left.  He was walking very
slowly now, both on account of the injured leg which
was giving him considerable pain every time he
stepped on it, and because he knew that should he
cross it without being aware of it, the chances were
that he would not find it, at least, until morning.
For another fifteen minutes he pushed on and then
stopped suddenly.  Was that a shout he heard?  He
listened and almost at once the sound was repeated.
Someone was calling and the shout was answered
by another not very far away.  They had missed him
and were searching the woods.

A shudder passed through him as he thought what
would probably happen to him if they again got him
into their clutches.  Another shout, which sounded
only a short distance in front of him answered
almost immediately from off at his right, made him
realize that his enemies had him nearly if not quite
surrounded.  Unless he found some way of safety very
soon he would be caught for sure.  He could now
and then see flashes of light as his pursuers made
use of their electric torches.  He had not the
slightest idea of which way to go and, for a moment,
despair settled on him.  It seemed impossible that he
could escape.  Then as he took a step forward, his
cap was brushed from his head by the limb of a tree.
As he stooped to recover it, an idea struck him.
Although it was so dark that he could see but a few
feet he could tell that the tree in front of him was
thick-branched and, in another minute, he was
rapidly making his way toward the top.  The tree was
tall and he did not stop until he was so near the top
that the trunk was only a few inches through.  Then,
straddling a limb, he crouched as close to the trunk
as he could get and waited.  He had done all he
could and he breathed a fervent prayer that they
would not find him.

As he crouched there he could hear the men calling
one to the other and all the time they were coming
nearer.  Flashes of light stabbed the darkness
but, so dense were the branches beneath him, he only
caught an occasional glimpse like the gleam of a
firefly.  Soon he was aware that two of them had
met directly beneath him, and strained his ears to
hear what they were saying.

"I told Pete to keep an eye on him," were the first
words he could distinguish, and he thought it was
Hains' voice.

"I guess Pete got too much interested in his cards,"
the other said.

"Wall, I'll larn him ter get mixed up with other
things when I tell him to do sumpin'."

"I wouldn't be too hard on Pete, Red.  The kid
isn't worth it and after all, what does it matter if he
does get away.  It's already known that we are in
the country and what he could tell wouldn't hurt
us any."

From the language as well as the voice Bob knew
that it was the black-haired man talking.  He was
the only one in the gang who, so far as he had heard,
used decent English and he wondered how the man
came to be associated with such a crowd.

"'Tain't that I mind the kid so much, but it's the
principle o' the thing that makes me mad.  Long's
I'm boss they've got to mind what I say."

"That's right so far as it goes, but I warn you
that you'll make a big mistake if you go to rubbing
Pete the wrong way just now.  He doesn't like you
any too much and the all the boys do like him.  First
thing you know he'll get the drop on you and then
your rule will be over."

"Aw, what yer givin' us?  I tell yer I kin handle
a dozen Petes and any o' the rest of 'em, fer that
matter."

"All right, have it your own way," the other replied
nonchalantly.  "But don't forget that I warned
you."

At this moment two more of the gang joined them
and Bob heard one of the newcomers say:

"I guess the kid's flew der coup."

"Looks like it," Hains replied in a sullen tone.
"Where's Pete?"

"Dunno."

"Wall, I guess we might's well get back ter camp.
'Tain't much use huntin' round here in the dark."

Bob breathed a deep sigh of relief as he heard the
men move off in the darkness.  For some time he
could hear them talking and shouting as they called
to others of the gang.  Gradually their voices grew
fainter and soon all was still and he deemed it safe
to descend.  But when he reached the ground he
found that he had entirely lost his sense of direction
and had not the slightest idea as to which way to go.

"Guess the safest thing will be to stay right here
till morning," he concluded after thinking the matter
over for some time.  "If I start out I'll be just as
apt to blunder into their camp again as I am to find
that trail."

A glance at the luminous face of his watch told
him that it was nearly ten o'clock.  The sky had
clouded over and it was steadily growing colder, but
he was dressed fairly warm in his woolen shirt and
knew there was little danger of catching cold.

"I don't knew whether to chance it on the ground
or to roost up in that tree," he thought as he groped
about on the ground to find a soft spot.  Finally he
found a place about twenty feet from the tree which
he had climbed which was thick with dry moss and
decided to risk it.  His foot was giving him considerable
pain and he quickly pulled off his shoe and
stocking and felt of the ankle.  It was pretty sore
and he judged that it was swollen slightly, but he
was thankful that it was no worse.  For some time
the ache in his ankle kept him awake but finally
wearied nature asserted itself and he slept.




CHAPTER VII.

BOB MAKES A CONVERT.

It was about five o'clock when Sue and Jack
reached the ranch.  Jeb was on the porch as they
drove up.

"Where's Bob?" he asked.

Sue told him what had happened and he listened
until she had finished the frown on his face getting
deeper and deeper.

"And you let him do that fool thing?" he said as
she paused.

"I didn't let him.  He just did it.  I told him not
to and tried to get him to give it up," she replied.

"It was not her fault," Jack told him.  "You see,
when Bob makes up his mind to do a thing wild
horses couldn't stop him and he was bound to do
this so you mustn't blame her."

"But that was Red Hains and his gang you met,"
Jeb groaned.  "If they catch him spying on them,
good night."

"But they won't catch him," Jack asserted.

"How can you tell that?" Jeb asked quickly.

"I guess it's only a hunch, but I feel it in my bones
that he'll turn up all right.  You see, he always
does."

But the man was not convinced and the frown
was still on his face as they led the horses toward
the corral.

"I feel mighty guilty," Sue confided to Jack as
they removed the saddles.

"You needn't.  You did all you could to keep him
from going."

"Just the same if anything happens to him I'll
never forgive myself."

"Nor I for that matter," Jack agreed.

As they turned back to go to the house they; saw
two men riding in through the gateway.

"There's Slim and Slats and they seem some
excited," Sue said.

That the two boys were excited became more
apparent as, their horses reeking with sweat, they
pulled up in front of the corral.

"Where's the fire?" Sue asked.

"It's worse nor fire," Slats asserted as he slid to
the ground.

"Tell us quick," Sue cried impatiently.

"It's more cattle stealin', that's what 'tis," Slim
declared as he undid his saddle girth.

"Where and when?"  Sue was now fully as excited
as the men.

"Last night over at the Bar Z."

"How many?"

"Close onter 150, so Herb Walters told us.  We
met him 'bout five miles out."

"Do they think it was the Hains Gang?" Jack
asked anxiously.

"Course it was.  Who else could it been?"  Slim
looked at the boy with a glance of pity.

"But we met Hains and his gang up in the mountains
along about noon," Sue told them.

"You what?"  Both the men asked the question
together.

"You heard me the first time.  I said we met Hains
and his gang up in the mountains.

"Well, of all the horned toads," Slats began but
Slim interrupted.

"Where was they goin' at?"

"You'll have to ask Bob that when he gets back."

"Gets back from where?"

"I don't know where.  He insisted on following
them to see if he could learn where they were going."

"Was he tryin' to commit suicide?"

"Do you think there is much danger?"  Sue looked
from one to the other.

"Would there be any danger if yer held a sidewinder
in yer hand and invited him ter have a free
lunch off yer?"

Jack turned pale as Slats was speaking.  "But he
won't let them catch him," he protested.

"If he can help it, you mean," Slats snapped.
"When did he aim ter get back?"

"He promised to get to the ranch before dark,"
Sue told them.

"Well, I hope he keeps his word."

While talking they had been walking toward the
house and Jeb met them at the steps.

"What do you think of this fool move of Bob's?"
he asked.

"Fool is right," Slim replied.

"Think we'd better go hunt for him?"

"If he don't show up afore long I reckon we'll
have ter do it."

"Well, we'll have supper first.  Any news?"

Slim told him of the raid on the stock at the Bar
Z and Jeb looked very thoughtful as he finished.

"It's bad, mighty bad," he said.  "It's only a
question of a short time before it'll be our turn
unless something's done."

"You said it, boss," Slats agreed and Slim nodded
his head.

Supper was a very quiet meal as no one seemed
inclined to talk much each one being busy with his
own thoughts.  First Sue and then Jack would step
to the door and look off across the prairie to see if
Bob was in sight but each time a shake of the head
announced their disappointment to the others.

"But it's not dark yet," Jack said as he sat down
after his fourth trip to the porch.

"Not for nearly two hours," Jeb added.

As soon as the meal was finished they all three
gathered on the porch and it is probable that not
one of them took their eyes from the distant hills
during the next half hour.

"We'll wait till seven o'clock and if he don't show
up by that time we'll start," Jeb said as he started
down the path which led to the 'shack' where the
cowboys lived.  "I'll tell the boys to get the horses
ready and, if we have to go, we can pretty near get
to the hills before dark," he added.

When the hour came and brought no sign of the
missing boy they set out.  Three of the men were
left behind, much against their wishes, as Jeb did
not wish to leave the ranch entirely unprotected.  At
first he refused to allow Sue to accompany them, but
the girl pleaded so hard that she finally had her way,
as she usually did, and of course, Jack would not
hear to being left behind.

"We'll probably meet him before we get very far,"
Jeb said as they swept out of the yard.

"I hope so," Jack replied trying to make his voice
sound cheerful.

* * * * * * * *

When Bob awoke the sun was shining.  He opened
his eyes slowly and, for an instant, wondered where
he was.  Then memory returned and he sat up.

"Well, I had a good sleep anyway," he said half
aloud as he got to his feet.

Although his ankle still hurt when he bore his
weight on it he was glad to note that the pain was
considerable less than it had been the night before.

"Now if I can only find Satan," he thought as he
looked about trying to determine which way to go.
"Wonder if he's as hungry as I am."

Ordinarily the position of the sum would have
told him which way to go but, inasmuch as he was
not at all certain of the direction in which he had
fled during the darkness, he could not be sure.  So
he determined that he would again climb the tree in
the hopes that the view from the top would set him
straight.  The tree was a very tall one overtopping
any other near by and, when he had reached the limb
on which he had rested before, he had a good view
over a considerable distance.  But it all looked so
much alike that he could pick out no distinguishing
mark which was at all helpful to him.

"I'm pretty sure that the path is over that way,"
he said aloud, pointing toward the top of the ridge.
"I must have crossed it in the darkness without
knowing it."

Feeling reasonably certain that he was right he
quickly descended and set off.  He had not gone
very far when he came to a small brook running at
right angles to the way he was going.  The water
was clear and cold and he was very thirsty but,
although he welcomed the stream for the sake of the
water, it caused him much uneasiness as he could not
remember having crossed it the night before.

"I guess I'm lost all right," he thought as he
straightened up after drinking his fill.  However
he was convinced that he was moving in the right
direction in a general sense at least, in that the top
of the ridge lay that way.  "Perhaps this brook takes
a sharp turn not far away and that may be the reason
I didn't cross it."

And a few minutes later he was sure that he was
right for he came to a small path leading through
the woods.

"I'm all right now," he thought turning to the
right and, with a light heart, he pushed on as rapidly
as the injured ankle would permit.

For an hour he hurried along.  The fact that the
path seemed much less rough than it had been yesterday
caused him much uneasiness, but he trusted that
it was due to his imagination but, when a second
hour had nearly passed and he had not struck the
main trail, he was obliged to acknowledge to himself
that it was not the path he had taken before.

"Guess there's only one thing to do and that's to
get up to the top of the ridge and go down the other
side.  I'm bound to come somewhere.  Looking for
Satan now would be like hunting for a needle in a
hay stack," he thought as he came to a stop.  "I
ought to have known that this wasn't the right path."

So he turned off to the left and plunged into the
thick forest.  Once off the narrow pathway it was
very rough going.  The trees were so close together
that it was impossible to keep in anything like a
straight course and there was much underbrush
through which, at times, he had literally to push his
way.  But Bob was a boy who did not easily get
discouraged and, although he was tired and hungry, he
kept steadily on never doubting, but that he would
find his way out sooner or later.

He had been off the trail for about half an hour
and had been climbing nearly all that time when he
heard a shout.  He thought it was off to his right
and paused undecided whether or not it would be
advisable to answer it.  It probably was one of the
boys hunting him but, then again, it might be one of
the Hains' gang and he hesitated to take the chance.
For several moments he listened, but the shout was
not repeated and he started on again.  In another
half hour he had reached the top of the ridge but
whether he was above or below the main trail he was
unable to determine as, at that point, the top was
heavily wooded.  So, after a moment's thought, he
decided that he had better go straight down trusting
that he would strike open ground and be able to get
his bearings.  It was now ten o'clock and he thought
he ought to reach the foot of the mountain by noon.

"I suppose they're wondering what has become of
me," he thought as he started off again.  "If I only
had something to eat it wouldn't be so bad, and it
wouldn't make much difference what it was just so
it was grub."

He had hardly started when he heard another
shout and this time it was much closer but he did not
dare venture to answer it.  As before the call was
not repeated but, as he stood listening, he heard the
sound of something making its way through the
underbrush and it was coming directly toward him.
Was it a beast or a man, and if the latter, was he
friend or foe?  The boy glanced hastily about to find
a place of concealment where he could see without
being seen.  But, as bad luck would have it, there
seemed no such place at hand and the best he could
do was to hide behind the trunk of a big tree.  The
man, for by this time he knew by the sound that it
was a man, was close at hand and he could hear him
breathing heavily as he stopped not ten feet from the
tree.  If only he dared peep out.  But he knew that
would be to risk discovery, so he waited hoping that
the man would speak and that from the sound of his
voice, he would be able to tell who he was.  He did
not have long to wait for, almost immediately he
heard him mutter:

"I dunno what in thunder Red wanted ter send me
off on a wild goose chase like this fer."

"It's one of the gang," Bob thought and he feared
that the man would hear his heart beating it sounded
so loud to him.

"I'm jest agoin' ter take a rest here," he heard him
say and was aware that he had thrown himself on
the ground.

"I hope he doesn't rest long," Bob thought as he
carefully shifted his weight onto the other leg.

But, although he moved with the most extreme
caution, he was unable to avoid a slight rustling of
leaves which evidently caught the man's ear, for he
heard him start up and, a moment later he could hear
him getting to his feet.  Then he came directly
toward the tree.

Knowing that further concealment was out of the
question, the boy determined to put on as bold a
front as possible and stepped out to face him, holding
his revolver in his hand.

"Well, if it ain't the kid," the man said as he saw
the boy.  "Thought thar was sumpin' behind that
tree."

"You thought right," Bob assured him.  Then,
putting as much indifference as possible into his
voice, he asked: "Were you looking for me?"

"Laws, no," the man replied.  "What made yer
think that?"

"I just thought it possible," Bob replied easily.

"Well, put up yer gun, sonny.  Thar's no need o'
guns atween friends.  I ain't a goin' ter hurt yer
any."

Bob had recognized the man as one of those who
had advised giving him a necktie party the night
before and was not at all deceived by his friendly
attitude.  But he was a small man, not much over a
hundred and twenty pounds, and he felt sure that if
it should come to a fight he could hold up his end.
So he slipped the revolver back in his pocket.

"Where were you going?" he asked indifferently.

"No where in particular," the man answered.
"Whar you hittin' it fer?"

"I'm going back to the ranch."

"Oh."

For the moment Bob was looking the other way
and, when he turned, he was gazing straight into the
barrel of an ugly looking automatic.

"What's the big idea?" he asked quietly.

"Yer're easy you are," the man grinned.

"So it would seem.  May I ask what you are
going to do with me?"

"Yer'll find out soon 'nough."

"Good.  I hate to be held in suspense."

"Yer may be suspended sooner yer think fer," the
man grinned.  "But if yer try any funny business it
won't be necessary."

"But why should it be necessary in any event?"

"That's our business.  Now turn 'bout face an'
start up the hill and mind yer step."

Bob knew that the time to start anything was not
yet so he did as he was ordered without hesitation,
but his brain was busy.  He did not intend to be led
back, or driven for that matter, to the Hains gang.
He was only too well aware of the reception that
awaited him, for he did not doubt for a minute but
that the man had been hunting for him, and, as he
trudged along, he was busy thinking how he get
hold of his captor without getting shot.  That the
man would shoot him if he felt that his safety
was in danger, he had not the slightest doubt.  Then
again, he knew that the quicker he acted the better
chance of success he would stand because there
was no telling how soon they might meet some other
member of the gang.

Determined to act as soon as the slightest chance
of success offered he watched his opportunity and it
soon came.  A large tree trunk lay directly in front
of him and, instead of going around it, he climbed
over it taking all the time he dared so that when he
jumped down on the other side his captor was just
pulling himself up on to it.  He hesitated as though
uncertain which way to go until he knew that the
man was standing up on the trunk ready to jump
down.  Then like a flash he turned and, catching
hold of the man's ankles, gave a strong pull.  The
move was so sudden and unexpected that the man's
feet were yanked from beneath him before he had
time to realize what had happened, his gun going off
as he fell.

Before he had time to recover himself Bob was on
top of him and they were thrashing about each trying
to get a firm hold on the other.  Bob almost at once
got a hold on the hand which held the gun and with
a sudden twist sent it flying.  Although the man was
undersized he was wiry and the boy was amazed at
his strength but, to his great satisfaction, he soon
discovered that he knew nothing regarding the
science of wrestling.  All he had was brute strength
while Bob was an adept.  So, once the gun was out
of the way he felt fairly confident.  But the man was
fighting like a wild cat and Bob had all he could
manage for some moments to keep his hands away
from his throat.

He hoped that his exertions would soon wind him
but, as the struggle continued, there was no abatement
of his fury and Bob decided that he had better
take the offensive without waiting longer.  He was
underneath at the moment and with a sudden twist
of his body he succeeded in throwing him off and,
an instant later, he had a half Nelson about his neck.
Back he bent the arm until it seemed that the bone
must snap, but the man continued to struggle.

"It'll snap pretty soon," Bob told him.  "Better
give up."

"All right, you win," the man gasped his face
distorted with pain.

Bob immediately released his hold and sprang to
his feet.  For a moment the other lay on the ground
rubbing his arm then he too got slowly up.

Bob was pretty certain that he had no other gun
as he had taken the opportunity of feeling for it
while they were on the ground, but he watched him
closely ready to spring for him if he made a
movement toward his pocket.

"What you call it, that hold?" he panted.

"That was a half Nelson."

"Half Nelson, eh.  Well all I got ter say is that
I'd sure hate ter run up against a whole one."

"It's pretty good when you know how to handle it."

The man had taken a step forward and, as Bob
spoke, he suddenly aimed a blow at his head.
Although Bob was on the watch for some such move,
the quickness of it deceived him and the fist landed
squarely on the point of his chin, and he went down.
With an exultant cry the man sprang forward, but
before he could reach him again the boy was on his
feet.  The blow, although a heavy one, had not
landed with its full force as Bob had drawn his head
back in time and he had fallen more because of catching
his heel on a root than from the blow itself.  The
man hesitated as though surprised at the quickness
with which Bob had got to his feet.

"So that's the way you play the game," Bob said.

"What you mean play the game?"

"Why, up where I come from when a man cries
quits he's done, that's all."

"But I'm not done yer'll find out in 'bout a
minute," he snarled as he sprang forward.

Bob dodged the blow without any great effort and,
as he lurched by from the force with which he had
struck, he got in a clip behind the ear which almost
but not quite knocked him over.  The man recovered
himself and returned to the attack with a snarl
of rage.  But Bob was ready for him and as he
rushed he caught him fairly on the point of the chin.
It was a heavy blow and the man went down but he
was not knocked out and was on his feet almost
immediately.  Evidently he realized by this time that
he was no match for the boy with his fists for this
time he rushed at him head down in an effort to
catch him about the knees.  It was exactly what Bob
had been hoping for and he set himself to meet it,
and the next instant a very surprised outlaw was
flying through the air over his head to fall with a
thud all the fight and most of the wind knocked out
of him.  It was a trick Bob had learned from the
Jap teacher of wrestling at the college and it now
stood him in good stead.

The outlaw writhed on the ground gasping for
breath as Bob stepped up and stood over him.

"That's another good one," he told him, but he
had not yet recovered his breath sufficiently to be
able to speak.

Seeing that he was "hors de combat" for the
present at least, Bob stepped a few feet away and
began looking for the outlaw's gun.  He knew the
direction in which it had been cast, but it was some
moments before he located it.  When he returned
the man was sitting up with his back against a tree
but he was still having a hard time breathing.

"Getting your wind back?"

The man simply scowled in reply as Bob held the
gun so that he could see that he had it.

"No use in being ugly about it," he told him.  "I'm
the one who ought to be mad.  You had two chances
and you can bet your sweet life I'm not going to give
you a third."

Bob was intending to leave at once being confident
that the man would not dare to follow him now that
he knew that he was armed, but something in his
face made him hesitate.  For the first time he realized
that the outlaw was very young.  In fact, as he sat
there he did not look much over twenty and a wave
of pity swept over the boy.

"How old are you?" he asked kindly.

"I'll be twenty-one next month."

"And what's your name?"

"What you want to know that for?"

Bob was impressed by the fact that the outlaw was
now using better English than he had been and was
becoming more and more convinced that he had seen
better days.

"No reason in particular," he told him.

"Well, it's Fred Royce if it'll do you any good to
know.

"Then you're an American?"

"Sure thing, but I guess I'm not much of a credit
to the nation."

"Do you like the life you're leading?"

For an instant the man did not reply and Bob
could see that a struggle was taking place in his
mind.

"Like it?  Of course I don't."

"Then why not get out of it?"

"That's easier said than done," the outlaw said
sadly.

"Would you mind telling me how you happened to
get into it?"

Again he hesitated and Bob was surprised to see
that tears were in his eyes.  Finally he spoke.

"I suppose it's a common enough story.  I lived in
Boston and my father is rich.  I had plenty of money
but I got in with a fast set, got to gambling and, of
course, lost.  I didn't dare to ask father for the
money so I forged his name to a check.  It was only
for a couple hundred dollars, but I realize now that
it was just as bad as if it had been a million.  Then
a fellow in our crowd found it out and threatened
to go to father and tell him about it unless I paid
him ten thousand dollars.  The only way I could get
the money was to forge another check, but I didn't do
it.  I skipped and beat my way out here.  That was
a little over a month ago and I've had a pretty rough
time of it.  You see I never had to work and so don't
know how to do anything.  I tried a number of jobs
but every time I got fired and I don't blame them for
that because I know I made a mess of it.  Then
three days ago I fell in with this man, Hains.  I
was about starved at the time and he staked me to
a good meal, the first one I've had for most a week.
Well I was pretty desperate and when he asked me
to join his gang I, like a weak fool, consented."

"Then you've only been with him a couple of days?"

"That's all, and I haven't had anything to do with
stealing cattle, not yet.  He said I have to wait
awhile and learn the ropes before I'd be any good.
Honestly I'm sorry I tried to double cross you, but
you see Hains sent me out to see if I could find out
what had become of you and I thought if I could
bring you in it'd be a big feather in my cap.  But
now I'm glad I got licked."

"So am I for your sake as well as my own."

There was silence for a moment and then the
outlaw said:

"If I only dared to chuck it."

"Well, why don't you?" Bob asked kindly.

"You don't know that gang or you wouldn't ask.
My life wouldn't be worth a plugged cent if I went
back on them."

"But suppose I loaned you the money to go back
home?"

"I couldn't go back, not yet.  If I could make
good first then I might have the courage to go back
and face father but, as it is now, well, I just couldn't,
that's all, but I'm mighty thankful for the offer just
the same."

"See here, man, don't you realize that the farther
you go with this sort of thing the harder it's going
to be to break away.  You ought to know that this
kind has only one end.  They'll get you sooner or
later.  Be a man and make the break now before the
law has anything on you."

Bob spoke sternly and he could see that his words
were having an effect on the man.

"Even if they should catch you it would be no
worse than what, this sort of thing will lead to," he
added in an effort to clinch the argument.

"I'll do it," he said after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, yer will, not."

At the words a large, red-haired man stepped out
from behind a tree.




CHAPTER VIII.

THE RAID.

Bob knew at once that it was Red Hains and his
hand moved toward his pocket.

"Keep yer hand away from that pocket if yer want
to live any longer," Hains snapped.

Bob knew that, although the man had nothing
in his hands, he was reputed to be a streak of
lightning when it came to getting a gun out, so he
prudently did as he was ordered.

"That's better, an' see that yer keep 'em away."  Then
turning to the other he snapped: "Wall, yer
poor snivling apology of a half-baked man, what yer
got ter say fer yerself?"

"Nothing," Royce replied sullenly.

"Nothin', eh.  Do yer know I've half a mind ter
put a hunk o' lead in yer, right now?"

"Go ahead, if it'll do you any good," Royce retorted.

"Yer think I'm bluffing, eh.  Then take this."

As he spoke the man's hand moved with the quickness
of a flash toward his belt, but before the gun
was out a deep voice boomed out:

"Hands up, Red.  I gotta bead on yer an' I'll drill
yer if yer move."

At the first word Hains' hand had stopped and
before the command was finished they were elevated
above his head.  Then Slats Magee stepped into view.

"Real nice social little party we got here," he said
keeping his gun trained on Hains.  "An' will yer
look at who's here?" he added motioning with his
head to Hains.

"Gee, but I'm glad to see you, Slats," Bob cried.

"An' I'm glad ter get ter the party on time," Slats
grinned.

At that instant the sound of a shot far off in the
forest made them turn their heads and when they
turned them back Red Hains was gone.

"What the----" Slats began and then stopped
short.  "Now, what do yer know about that?" he
finished sheepishly.  "Whar did that skunk get to?"

"How could a man disappear as quickly as that?"
Bob gasped.

"Well, I reckon mebbe it's good riddance ter bad
rubbish, as the sayin' is.  We'd a had a sweet time
gettin' of him in.  But who's this feller?"

"In a few words Bob told him Royce's story and
the sympathies of the man were at once engaged.

"Sure, we'll look out for him.  Don't yer fret,
young feller.  If yer want ter go straight, you're
goin' ter get a chance an' don't yer fergit it.  But I
plumb fergot sumpin'."  And he pulled out his
gun and fired three shots in rapid succession into
the air.

"The boys been out huntin' fer yer all night and
that's the signal if yer was found," he explained.

"It's too bad," Bob told him.  "I ought to have
known better than to have attempted it.  But how
far am I from the trail?"

"'Bout five miles, mebbe a little more."

"So far as that?"

"Yep, and I reckon we'd better be makin' tracks.
My horse is 'bout two miles back.  Couldn't get him
any further."

They started at once, Slats leading and the others
following close at his heels.

"How did you know where to find me?" Bob asked
after they had covered perhaps a mile.

"Didn't know.  Jest went it blind."

"Well, I never was more glad to see anyone."

"Reckon not."

Soon they reached the place where Slats had left
his horse and he insisted on Bob riding.  But he
refused as did Royce and the argument ended with
them all going on foot, Slats leading the animal.  It
was about ten o'clock when they struck the trail not
far from where Bob had left his horse.

"You wait here till I get Satan," Bob said as he
turned down the trail.

But when he reached the place, a few minutes
later, there was no horse to welcome him.

"He's either broken away or someone has stolen
him," he thought as he examined the place where he
had tied him.

The ground was considerably tramped up and the
tree, to which he had been tied had been gnawed,
but there was nothing to indicate which of his guesses
was correct.

When he got back to where he had left the others
he found that Sue, Jack and three of the boys had
joined them.

"Didn't I tell you that you'd get caught?" Sue
demanded as soon as he came in sight.

"Indeed, you did, and if I hadn't been a fool I'd
have followed your advice.  But never again," and
he held up his hand as if taking an oath.

Royce's presence had been already explained and,
after again firing the signal, they started for the
ranch, two of the horses carrying double.

"I wouldn't care so much if I had accomplished
anything," Bob confided to Jack behind whom he
was riding.

"I should say you had accomplished a whole lot,"
Jack retorted.

"What do you mean?  We know no more now
than before."

"But how about Royce?"

"If he goes straight from now on I'll say that you
did more than if you had caught the whole
gang."

"Maybe you are right."

"I know I am."

They reached the ranch in time for dinner and
found that Jeb and one of the others had returned
having heard the first signal and, at the time, having
been nearer home.

"I'll bet I could eat a raw moccasin," Bob declared
a few minutes later as they sat down at the table.

They had just started to eat when one of the men
came in and announced that Satan had just come
in by himself.

By the time they had finished the meal all the boys
were back and Bob had to repeat his story several
times.  All were greatly interested in young Royce
and he was almost overcome by the kindness shown
him declaring over and over again that he did not
deserve it.  Jeb added his advice to that which Bob
had given him, that he take money and go back home.
But he said that he would do anything else that they
wished but that he could not do.

"You don't know my father," he told them.  "Oh,
he's a good father and all that but he is absolutely
merciless when it comes to a thing like this.  He'd
have me arrested and put me in jail in a minute if I
went back to him like this.  I know I deserve it and
if it wasn't for mother I'd be willing to face him
and take what was coming, but it would kill her."

Tears had been gathering in the man's eyes while
he was talking and by the time he had finished he
was sobbing in good earnest.

"There, there, son, we all make mistakes and you
shall have a chance right here to make good," Jeb
assured him, laying a kindly hand on his shoulder.

"You're better to me than I deserve, sir," he
sobbed, "but if you'll only give me a chance I'll try
so hard."

"Then it's settled.  You are on the payroll of the
Lazy S."

"But you must not pay me anything, at least until
I'm worth it."

"Well, we won't fight over that," Jeb told him
kindly.

"It is something that I'll never forget and I'll
make good."

"Of course, you will."

It developed that Royce knew nothing more about
Red Hains and his gang than he had already told
them.  He had never been to their rendezvous and
had no idea where it was.

"I don't think Hains trusted me fully," he told
them, "and he, as well as the others, were careful
not to talk about their business when I was around.
Guess I was kind of on probation."

"But did you never hear him say anything about
this ranch?" Jeb asked him.

"No, sir, I----.  Yes, I did, too.  It was last night,
just before we camped.  I was tending to the horses
and he and one of the men were talking only a few
feet away and I heard him say that the Lazy S had
the best bunch of cattle in the country but that they
were pretty well guarded and it would be pretty
risky to try to run any of them off."

"Then you don't know whether he intends to try
it or not?"

"No, sir, that was all I heard him say.  They
moved away then and I didn't hear anything more."

"Well, you'd better stick pretty close to the ranch
for a while.  I fancy it would go pretty hard with
you if he should get hold of you again."

"He'd kill me."

"Probably he would."

The herd of the Lazy S was grazing on what was
called the lower range, about two miles from the
house.  Jeb called all the boys for a consultation
before supper and arranged that they should guard
them in two shifts, each being on duty from six to
six.

"There's little doubt in my mind but what he'll
have a try at 'em sooner or later," Jeb told them.
"He may get away with it, but we'll make it as hard
for him as we can, eh."

"Sure, an' we'll do that," Grumpy declared, and
all the others were just as enthusiastic.

"The finest and most loyal bunch of men I ever
had," Jeb told the boys as the men left the porch.

"Which shift do we go with?" Bob asked.

"Why, you----"

"Sure, we're going to help.  We wouldn't miss it
for the world," Jack broke in.  Jeb insisted that he
was responsible for them and that there was too
much risk attached to it, but they finally won a
reluctant consent to join the day shift.

It was sometime in the night when Bob suddenly
awoke.  He was aware that he had heard something,
but what it was he did not know, but a moment later;
he heard it again and this time he knew that it was
a shot and it came from the south.  Almost at the
same time he heard someone moving in the kitchen
out of which their room opened.  He gave Jack a
sharp nudge.

"Wake up, there," he whispered in his ear.

"What's the idea," Jack grunted sleepily.

"Something's doing.  Come, snap out of it," he
ordered, slipping from the bed and dragging Jack
after him.

"Have a heart," Jack groaned as he bumped his
head on the floor.

"Sorry, but we've got to make it snappy."

As they pulled on their clothes they could hear
Jeb's voice out on the porch shouting to the men.

"Think it's a raid?" Jack asked.

"What do you suppose it is?" Bob retorted.
"Think they're indulging in target practice?"

"Not exactly, but----"

"Stop talking and get a hustle on," Bob ordered
as he pulled open the door and stepped out of the
room.

There was no one in the kitchen and he rushed
out on to the porch where he bumped into Jeb who
was about to come in.

"Is it Hains?" he asked.

"No doubt of it, I guess, but you boys keep out
of it."

"But we want to go."

"Too risky."

"But we'll be careful and----"

But Jeb did not wait to hear any more for at that
moment the men came up with the horses and he
rushed into the house to come out again almost
immediately buckling his gun-belt about his waist, Jack
was close behind him, buttoning up his shirt on the
way.

Bob made one more effort

"Please let us go," he pleaded, catching hold of
Jeb's arm.

"Who's that can't go?"

The one who asked the question was Sue and she
was dressed in her riding suit and her small
automatic was strapped about her slim waist.

"Nothing doing, this time, Sue," Jeb put all the
command possible into the order.

"But----"

"No buts about it.  This is no business for a girl."

"But----"

"Oh, well, I can't stop to argue any more.  Come
along, if you must, but you must stay well behind.
Make it snappy, now, every minute counts."

The two boys took it for granted that the permission
included them and followed Sue's flying feet to
the corral.  They were mounted and back with the
others almost in no time.

"You keep well in the rear," Jeb cried as he gave
the order to start, and he swept out of the gate
closely followed by the rest.

In all, not more than ten minutes has passed since
Bob heard the first shot and during that time several
more shots had been heard.  The night was dark,
the new moon having set several hours before, and
they could barely see each other as they rode.  The
shots were coming more frequently now and the
pace set by Jeb was a fast one.  But Bob was obliged
to hold Satan in in order to keep behind the men, as
he seemed imbued with the excitement.

"Fire into the air, boys, an' let 'em know we're
coming," Jeb shouted a few minutes after they had
started and the next moment the air was rent with
shots as the order was obeyed.

On through the night they swept the hoofs of the
horses hardly seeming to touch the ground so swiftly
were they running.  A few minutes and they could
hear the bellowing of the cattle as they milled this
way and that not frightened enough to stampede but
very restless.

In another minute Jeb called a halt and ordered
the men to stay where they were while he went on
to find out the condition of things.

"If I fire two shots close together and then two
more after about ten seconds you come a-running,
all except you, Sue, and the boys.  You three stay
where you are and if I shoot twice more quick-like,
you beat it for the house.  You can tell my gun
from the rest."

As he spoke he melted into the darkness and they
waited.  Minute after minute passed and they were
all getting impatient when the signal came.

"Come on, boys, whoop her up," one of the men
shouted, and the three were alone.

"Gee, but I wish he hadn't told us not to go any
farther," Jack declared.

"Same here, but I reckon he knows best," Bob
said, stroking Satan's neck in an effort to quiet him.

"I can usually wheedle father into most anything,
but when he speaks like that I know better than to
disobey.  I tried it just once and that was a-plenty."

"Of course, we wouldn't think of not doing as
he ordered," Jack told her.

No shots had been heard since the men rode off
and they were beginning to wonder if it was all over
when two shots rang out close together.

"That's dad's old Betsey and it means for us to
beat it," Sue said as she turned her horse.  "Come
on and come a-running."

She took the lead and the boys followed.  If they
had come out fast it seemed as though they were
flying now, and the lights of the ranch house loomed
up almost, it seemed, before they were fairly started.
Then, when they were about a hundred yards from
the house when Sue stopped so suddenly that Jack
had all he could do to keep from running into her.

"Look," she gasped.

One glance was enough.  At one corner of the
big barn a thin blaze of light gleamed through the
darkness.

"They've fired the barn," Bob cried.  "Come on,
Jack, we must put it out if possible."

"Just a minute," Sue called as he was about to
start.  "We don't know how many of them there
may be and we must be careful."

"But listen----" Bob began, but Sue interrupted.

"You got your guns with you?"

"Sure."

"Then we'll ride on firing as fast as we can, and
they may think that the whole outfit is coming."

"Good plan," Bob agreed.  "Come on."

He led and they rode rapidly directly for the barn
shooting and yelling at the top of their voices.  No
shots answered theirs and they reached the barn
without seeing anyone.  The lower part of the corner
was blazing fiercely and it looked as though the
barn would surely go.  But all three were determined
that it should not if they could prevent it.
Fortunately there was a pump only a few yards away, and
Bob shouted as he threw himself from his horse:

"See if there's a bucket at the well, Jack."

Then he ran for the house where he knew he would
find several.  He knew that the barn was filled with
dry hay and if the fire once got to it there would be
no chance of saving it.  He was back almost immediately
with two buckets to find Jack pumping furiously
into an old leaky pail.  Throwing down the
empty ones he grabbed the other shouting:

"You and Sue keep 'em filled."

A good part of the water leaked out before he
could get to the barn and what was left seemed to
have no effect at all and, throwing the pail aside, he
rushed back for another.  This one was filled by the
time he grabbed it and when he had dashed the contents
on the fire he was a little encouraged.  Back
and forth he ran, but the fire persisted in eating its
way into the dry timber and he feared that it was
gaining on him.  He had made over twenty trips
and was about exhausted when, as he came back for
another pailful, Jack shouted:

"Change places with me, Bob.  You're about puffed."

Jack was comparatively fresh as Sue had been
doing a part of the pumping and by the time he had
made a dozen trips back and forth the fire was well
under control.

"A couple more pailsfull and she'll be out," he
panted.

"My, but it's lucky we got here just when we did,"
Sue declared a few minutes later as, the fight ended,
they stood looking at the blackened timbers.  "If it
had got a bit more of a start it would have gone up
sure as smoke."

"And in smoke," Jack laughed.

"What'll we do now?" Bob asked after a
moment's silence.

"Have you heard any shooting since we got
here?" Sue asked.

"No, but I reckon that doesn't mean that there
hasn't been any.  We've been so busy that I guess
we wouldn't have heard it if a gattling gun had been
in action out there."

"Listen a moment," Sue suggested.

But not a sound came to them and Sue soon
declared that the raid must be over.

"I hope they didn't get away with any of the
cattle," she added.

"What do you suppose they set fire to the barn
for?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I imagine they were getting the worst of it
and sent a couple of the men to fire the barn hoping
that our men would see the fire and rush to put it
out.  Then they'd have the cattle to themselves.  Or
perhaps they just did it out of pure spite.  They're
bad enough to do anything."

"Had we better ride back?" Bob asked.

"I don't think so.  The scrap must be over or
we'd hear firing.  No, I think we better go up to the
house and wait till they come back."

"All right," Bob agreed.  "But I'm going to take
a look around first.  You and Jack go up to the
house and I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes, you will, not," Jack said quickly.  "We'd
have to spend the rest of the night and all day
tomorrow hunting for you."

"Nonsense."

"No nonsense about it," Sue broke in.  "If any
of them are lurking around here they'd be sure to
see you first and get the drop on you before you could
do a thing.  No, we'll all go to the house and sit
tight till the boys get back.  We can keep an eye on
the barn, but I hardly think they'll try it again."

Bob, knowing that he had come to grief once
through not taking Sue's advice, did not insist
further, although he felt that it was a risky thing to
leave the barn unprotected.  They found the horses
where they had left them and turned them into the
corral after taking off the saddles, and then returned
to the house.  They had still heard no shot and Sue
declared that some of them, at least, ought to be
getting back.

"That is, if they aren't off chasing them," she added.

"Do you think they'd do that while it is so dark?"
Jack asked.

"Goodness, I don't know.  There's no accounting
for what that dad of mine will do once he gets
started."

"Well, it'll begin to get light in a half-hour or so,"
Bob told them glancing at his watch.

The coming dawn was just beginning to lift the
darkness when they heard the beating of hoofs.

"There're coming," Sue cried, leading the way to
the porch, and in about ten minutes Jeb and two of
the men swung themselves from their dripping
horses.

"You all safe?" was his first question.

"Right side up and a yard wide," Sue replied.

"Good.  They got young Royce."

"Bad?"  Sue's voice disclosed her anxiety.

"Just below the shoulder.  I don't think it went
through the lung, but I'm not sure."

"Where is he?"

"Down by the spring.  I thought it best not to
try to bring him in on horseback, so we came in for
the buckboard.  Slim is with him and he ain't bleeding
nothing to speak of."

"But the rustlers?" Sue asked.

"They got away with about twenty-five head, I
reckon.  Had 'em cut out before we got there."

"But couldn't you follow them?" Bob asked.

"Sure, we did as far as the woods.  You see," he
went on to explain, "we knew it would be plum
suicide to follow them into the forest."

"Why?" Jack asked as he paused.

"Because the man who is being followed always
has the big advantage in the darkness, as he pretty
well knows where the other fellow is and all he has
to do is to wait for him to get up close enough and
then pot him, and I don't risk human life for a few
cattle.  But, believe me, we ain't done with that gang,
not by a long shot."

Bob was about to ask another question, but just
then the two men, who had returned with Jeb, drove
up with the buckboard.

"Get a bed ready and we'll be back in about half
an hour," Jeb said as they drove off.

"Oh, I do hope that he isn't badly hurt," Sue said
as she turned back to re-enter the house.  "It would
be too awful if he should die before he has a chance
to make good."

"Isn't there a doctor anywhere near here?" Bob
asked as he followed her in.

"Not nearer than Cold Springs.  His name is Lawton.
Suppose you try to get him on the phone while
I get the bed ready.  He has a flivver and ought to
get here in a couple of hours if he's at home."

Bob got the number after what seemed a long time
and, to his great relief, the doctor was at home and
promised to get there as fast as his car would bring
him.  Meantime Jack had built a fire and put on
water to heat and, after that there was nothing to
do except wait for them to bring the wounded man
in.

It was not long, however, before they heard the
sound of wheels and they had hardly more than gotten
on to the porch when the buckboard turned in at
the gafe.  Royce looked very white as they lifted
him carefully from the seat where Jeb had been
holding him.

"Is he dead?" Sue gasped as she caught sight of
his white face.

"Only fainted," her father assured her.

Carefully they placed the wounded man on the
bed and Sue hastened to fetch a basin of cold water,
and, under her skilled ministration, he soon opened
his eyes with a deep sigh.

"Don't try to speak," Sue ordered, laying her cool
hand on his brow.

The youth smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

"Get me the hot water," she whispered to Bob.

"Sue's about as good as a doctor," Jeb told him
as he turned to obey.  "But I ought to have told you
to call Lawton."

"I did, sir, and he's coming as soon as possible,"
Bob replied.

"That's good.  That man knows his business."

Bob was back with the water in less than a minute
and, ordering them all out of the room, the girl set
to work.

"He's asleep, now, and I think he'll pull through,"
she told the boys when she joined them on the
porch a half-hour later, "I'm pretty sure the bullet
just missed the lung and it went right through,
making a clean wound."

"That's fine," Bob rejoiced.  "You know, I believe
that there's a lot of good in him only he's evidently
weak."

"And he'll have you to thank if he makes good,"
Jack declared.

Before Bob had time to say anything Charlie came
to the door to tell them that breakfast was ready and
they lost no time in obeying the summons.

"How came you fired those two shots for us to
beat it back, dad?" Sue asked as soon as they were
seated.

"I didn't."

"But we heard them."

"Must be some other gun sounds like Betsey, then."

"But it's funny you didn't hear them."

"Maybe I was too excited," Jeb grinned.

"Well, it's mighty lucky someone fired them."

"How come?"

Then she told him about the fire and what a time
they had had to put it out.

"You're right it was lucky," Jeb assured them
when she had finished.  "It would have hit us mighty
hard if that barn had gone up.  It would have made
us short on hay for next winter.  The skunks.  This
country's got to get rid of them some way or other."

"How about the sheriff?" Bob asked.  "Can't he
do anything?"

"Frankly I don't know," Jeb told them.  "He's a
fellow by the name of Longly, Skeets Longly, they
call him, and he does an awful lot of blowing about
what he's going to do but, somehow or other, he
doesn't seem to get many results.  Oh, I know he's
up against a hard proposition when he's bucking the
Hains gang but, what I say is that if he can't do
the job, and it seems he can't, he ought to call on the
state troops.  I'll bet they'd clean it up but Skeets
he can't seem to see it that way, leastwise he hasn't
yet."

As soon as breakfast was over Sue hastened to
see to her patient and returned almost at once with
the news that he was still sleeping and seemed to
be doing well.

"Where's the rest of the boys?" she asked as soon
as she made her report.

"I told them to stay with the herd," Jeb told her.
"Charlie's putting up some grub and one of the
boys'll take it out to them."

"You think they'll come back?"

"Can't tell but I'm taking no chances."

About an hour later Dr. Lawton drove noisily
into the yard, the radiator of his little car steaming
like a locomotive.  He was a little man, hardly over
five feet tall, and probably did not weigh much over
a hundred pounds.  But what he lacked in size he
more than made up for in energy.

"Where's the patient?" he demanded as he jumped
out of the car.

"In here, doctor.  Follow me," Sue ordered.

They were gone the better part of an hour while
Jeb and the two boys anxiously awaited his report
on the front porch.  Finally they came out.

"Well?" Jeb asked.

"Waste of my time coming way out here," the
little doctor growled.  "That girl of yours is as
good as any doctor."

"Huh, from the time you've taken I thought you
must be taking him apart to see what makes the
wheels go round."

"Had to do something to earn my fee, but he'll
be as fit's a fiddle in a couple of weeks.  But if that
bullet had gone in half an inch lower down 'twould
have been another story.  By the way, who is he?
Reminds me of a young fellow I've seen hanging
around the hotel in town."

"Guess likely he's the fellow," Jeb said and told
him Royce's story.

"Thought I wasn't mistaken," the doctor said
when he had finished.  "Well, he's fallen into good
hands, all right, if he wants to turn over a new leaf
and go straight."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Sue assured him.

"Well, I hope so, but you never can tell about these
fellows you pick up.  Well, I must be getting back.
Got a lot of work to do.  Keep him quiet for a few
days and you won't need me again."

"Red Hains got twenty-five or thirty of my cattle
last night.  That's how he got shot.  Tried to
capture the whole gang, he did.  When you get back to
town tell Skeets about it, will you?  I don't suppose
'twill do any good, but you tell him just the same,"
Jeb said as the doctor, after filling the radiator,
climbed into the car and started the engine.

"I'll tell him all right and give him a piece of my
mind in the bargain," the doctor promised as he
turned the car and shot out of the gate.

"He's not much to look at," Jeb smiled as he sat
down, "but when it comes to action he's like a bundle
of coiled springs.  If we had him for sheriff it'd be
a lot healthier around here.  He's been urged to
take the office but he says he has too many folks to
put together now without trying to take more of
them apart."




CHAPTER IX.

SUSPICIONS.

A week passed and nothing more had been seen
or heard of the Hains gang.  The boys insisted on
being a part of the day shift and from six in the
morning until six at night they were out guarding
the herd.  It was a free open life and they enjoyed
every minute of it.  Young Royce improved steadily
and by the end of the week was able to sit up a part
of the time.

Several hours each day, while they were on duty,
the boys, under the skillful tutelage of Slim and Slats,
practiced throwing the lasso, a sport which they
found very fascinating.

"Yer'll shore be experts if yer keep it up much
longer," Slats told them after Bob had just executed
a particularly difficult throw over the head of a
young bull.

"When I can throw as well as you can I'll be
satisfied," Bob told him.

"What, him?"  Slim had come up in time to hear
Bob's remark.  "Shaw, he's no good."

"Who's no good?" Slats demanded very red in
the face.

"You ain't, that is, not with a rope, you ain't."

"Huh, 'f I couldn't beat you two ways o' Sundays
the only use I'd make of a rope'd be to hang myself."
Slats retorted.

"Whar'd yer want us ter sent yer remains?" Slim
asked gravely.

"Thar ain't goin' ter be any remains not till yer
improve a whole lot," Slats flung at him as he turned
away to attend to some duty.  "Slim's all right," he
continued, turning to the boys, "till he thinks
somebody thinks as how he can do sumpin' better nor he
can, then he jest has to naturally shoot off his
mouth."

"But----"

"Course Slim's a good roper but, laws sakes
wouldn't do ter let him know yer thinks so.  Why
only 'bout a month ago some idjut as ought ter have
known better, complimented him on his throwin' an'
right away he went an' bought a new hat two sizes
larger nor he'd been wearin' an' his old one only six
years old come next winter."

It was perhaps an hour later when Slim had a
chance to tell his side.

"Yer'd think ter hear that tall shank o' bones talk
that he'd invented the art o' ropin'.  Why, bless yer
heart, I've seen that guy miss more steers nor yer
could shake a stick at/  Only time he's sure of
catchin' anything's when he's right enough ter lay
the loop over 'thout throwin' it 'tall."

Then, as he noticed the look of incredulity on the

"Course I'm only speakin' in comparative terms,
so to speak.  What I mean is that compared with
some he'd measure up fairly well, mebby better nor
the average.  But 'twouldn't do ter let him think yer
think so.  He's the greatest feller yer ever saw ter
get a big head, Slats is.  Why, 'twont more'n a
month ago that he went an' bought a new hat two
sizes bigger nor the one he'd been wearing jest
because some feller told him a throw he'd made was the
best he'd ever seen."

"And I don't suppose his old one was more than
six years old," Bob said soberly.

"'Twon't that much, he'd only had it five years
come Christmas."

"Can you beat it?" Bob asked a moment later after
the cowboy had left them.  "And yet, I reckon it
would be hard to find two better friends anywhere."

"You said it," Jack agreed.  "Why only the other
day Slats gave Grumpy a licking because he said that
Slim was too big for his pants."

"They're a funny pair all right, but mighty good
fellows when it comes right down to brass tacks.
But who's that fellow?" Bob asked pointing toward
a horseman who was riding toward them.

"He's not one of our boys, that's sure."

They were, at the time, on the side of the herd
nearest the house, all the others being some distance
away and the man was approaching from the direction
of Cold Springs.  As he came nearer they could
see that he was middle aged, roughly, even raggedly
dressed, and rode a horse which looked as disreputable
as himself.

"Hello, boys," he sang out when he was within a
few feet of them.

"How do you do?" Bob replied courteously.

"Only middling.  What ranch is this here?"

"It's the Lazy S," Bob told him.

"Lazy S, eh.  Looks like it had better be called the
Busy S," he returned, glancing about.  "How's
chances on landing a job?"

"You'll have to see Mr. Stebbins," Bob told him.

"Whar is he?"

"He's probably at the house."

"And how far away is it?"

"About two miles," Bob told him.

"Think he wants any more help?"

"Really I couldn't say."

"I heard him say the other day that he'd like one
or two more men," Jack volunteered.

"That's good news cause I sure do need one.
Which way is the house?"

"That way," Bob replied pointing.  "You'll see
it as soon as you get over that rise."

"Then I go see him.  Did you say he name is
Steblits?"

"Stebbins," Jack corrected him.

"Stebbins.  I'll try to remember it," the man said
as he turned his horse and, with a parting wave of
his hand, rode off.

"He looks as though he might have seen better
days," Jack said when he was out of hearing.

"Doesn't look as though he could have seen much
worse ones," Bob replied and then he remained in
deep thought till Jack said:

"A penny for your thoughts."

"I was just thinking that I've seen that man before."

"You have?  Where?"

"That's what I was trying to remember."

"Well, don't let me interrupt."

For several moments Bob did not speak.  Something
in the man's voice rather than his looks had
awakened the memory of a few days past.  Once
again he was sitting on a log watching a group of
men as they sat about a fire playing cards.

"I have it," he finally burst out.  "That man
belongs to Red Hains' gang."

"What?"

"You heard what I said."

"But are you sure?'

"Almost.  You see, I didn't get a very good look
at all of them but I remember that voice."

"But what's he doing here?"

"We could only guess at that but, taking it for
granted that I'm right, what would you guess?"

"That he's a spy, of course."

"That may be.  Yes, you're probably right but my
guess is that he's spying after Royce."

"You mean--?"

"I mean that if he's the man I think he is, I
believe Hains has sent him here to do some harm to
Royce."

"What'll we do about it?"

"We ought to warn Jeb before he hires him, but I
don't see how we can do it."

"Nor I.  We couldn't possibly get to the house
ahead of him without him seeing us."

"I have it," Bob said a moment later.

"What's your plan?"

"I'll go catch up with him and make some excuse
for going to the house, and maybe I'll get a chance
for a word with Jeb before he sees him.  If he's all
right he can't object and if he isn't we should
worry."

"Good enough, but keep an eye on him.  If he's
what you suspect he'll be suspicious.  Don't let him
get the drop on you," Jack cautioned as Bob mounted
his horse.

"I'll be careful," he called back.

The stranger's horse was fully as slow as his
appearance indicated and it was but a few minutes
when Satan drew up alongside him.  The man
glanced at Bob interrogatively but did not appear
either displeased or surprised.

"Just thought of something I had to go to the
house for," Bob told him.

"That's fine.  I like company.  Yer see I'm a
social critter, I am."

But he did not seem inclined to talk much as they
jogged along, although he answered pleasantly
enough whenever Bob spoke to him.  To Bob's
disappointment Jeb came onto the porch as they rode
through the gate.  He had hoped to be able to tell
him what he knew about the man before they met
but now that was impossible.

"That Stebbins?" the man asked

"Yes, that's he."

Bob noticed that Jeb was looking at the stranger
rather closely as he slipped from his horse and
advanced to meet him.

"The boy said as how you needed another hand,"
he began resting one foot on the lower step.

"Well, I don't know.  Guess maybe, I could use
another man."

"Then I'm your best bet.  I kin do most anythin'
from roping ter cooking."

"What's your handle?"

"Most folks call me Los Varney."

"I thought so but wasn't quite sure," Jeb cried
holding out his hand.  "Don't you remember me?"

"Blast my eyes if it ain't old Jeb," the man almost
shouted grasping the outstretched hand.  "The boy
said as how yer name was Stebbins but I didn't
connect up with yer.  Thought yer'd gone East and it
must be all of fifteen year since we was up in the Bad
Lands."

"It's nearer twenty," Jeb told him still shaking his
hand.

"Mebby so, mebby so.  Time sure gets away fast
when yer get along in years, don't it?"

"It sure does," Jeb agreed.  "But how's the world
been using you?"

"Oh, 'bout good's I deserve, I reckon.  Yer know
I never could keep a hold on any coin an' jest now
well, I sure need a job."

"Well, you've got one," Jeb assured him.  "Turn
your nag into the corral and then come and get a
bite, that is if you're hungry."

"Ever remember seein' me when I wasn't?" the
man grinned.

Bob had stood by while the two men were talking,
his astonishment growing with every sentence.  Was
it possible that he was mistaken?  It would seem so
but he knew that he had an almost uncanny memory
of voices and he was not at all satisfied even though
Jeb had recognized in the man an old friend.  Should
he tell Jeb what he suspected or would it be better to
wait developments?  Perhaps it would be the better
plan to speak to Royce first and let him have a chance
to recognize the man if he had been a member of the
gang.  Yes, that was the best plan, he decided and,
throwing the reins over Satan's head, he entered the
house.

He found Royce in the big living room sitting by
the window.  He looked as Bob entered the room.

"Hello, Bob.  In early aren't you?" he greeted him.

"A little.  I want to ask you something."

"All right, shoot."

"Was there a man by the name of Los Varney in
Hains' gang?"

"Los Varney?  Let me see.  No, I think not,
leastwise I don't remember the name."

"You're sure?"

"Yep.  That's not a name to forget very easily,
but, of course, I suppose most of them went by
assumed names and he might have been calling himself
something else.  But what's the idea?"

Bob told him about the man who had applied for a
job and his suspicions concerning him.

"But you say Jeb knows him?" he asked as soon
as he had finished.

"Yes, he knows him all right.  In fact it seems
that they're old friends or, at least, used to be."

"Then I guess that settles it."

"Not necessarily.  You see, it's been twenty years
or so since they have seen each other and I reckon a
man go bad in less time than that."

"Well, that's right too," and Bob noticed that a
pained look crossed the other's face.

"I didn't mean--" he began, but Royce interrupted.

"I know you didn't.  What kind of a looking fellow is he?"

"About average height, around forty-five, smooth
shaved, or rather he was perhaps four or five days
ago.  Has a rather high forehead and brown hair.
That's about as well as I can describe him."

"But that description would fit half the members
of the gang," Royce smiled.

"I know it but it's the best I can do.  You see, he
hasn't any outstanding characteristcs which make
him easy to describe.  I reckon we'll have to wait till
you see him."

The opportunity came about a half hour later when
the man came into the room with Jeb.

"You've met Bob here," Jeb said.  "And this is
Royce.  He's got nicked a few days ago in a rumpus
we had with the Hains gang."

Bob watched the man closely as he stepped
forward and held out his hand to Royce.

"Glad ter meet yer, son," he said.

"Thanks.  I'm glad to know any friend of
Mr. Stebbins," Royce said easily.

Bob could see that he was scanning the man's face
closely but, to his surprise, there was no look of
recognition in his eyes.  Jeb and Varney soon went out
and the two were alone again.

"Well?" Bob asked.

"Nothing doing.  Never saw the man before."

"You're sure?"

"Reasonably.  Of course, he may have worn at
beard and has shaved it off.  That probably would
change his looks enough so that I wouldn't recognize
him.  You know, I was only with them a couple of
days and, of course, didn't get to know any of them
very well."

"Well, if he's what I thought, he's one peach of an
actor," Bob declared.

It was not until after supper was over that Bob
had a chance to tell Jack what had happened.  He
knew by the looks on his brother's face that he was
crazy to learn how the man had succeeded in getting
into the good graces of Jeb.

"What's the idea?" he asked as soon as he got Bob
alone out by the corral.  Bob told him what had
happened and he gave a low whistle.

"So you missed it that time?"

"I'm not so certain of that," Bob replied.

"But if he's a friend of Jeb."

"That's what Royce said, but, after all, that
doesn't prove anything.  I tell you, Jack, that man
was playing cards by that fire the night they had me
caught.  I know it but, of course, it's another thing to
prove it."

"Did you tell Jeb?"

"Not yet.  Think I better?"

"Of course.  What's the use in taking chances?"

"I suppose you're right, but I bet he'll laugh at the
idea.  Remember, all I've got to go on is his voice."

It happened that Jeb joined them at that moment
and Bob told him all about it.  Jeb's face was very
thoughtful while he was telling the story and when
he had finished, he said:

"I think you must be mistaken, Bob, but I'm glad
you told me.  There's no doubt that he's Los
Varney all right, but it's not at all impossible that
you may be right.  It's a long time ago that I knew
him and we were together for a year or more, but
I've lost track of him since then and he may have
gone wrong although, frankly, I don't think so.
However we'll keep an eye open and 'forewarned is
forearmed' you know."

"He didn't laugh anyhow," Jack declared as soon
as they were alone again.

Three days went by.  Los Varney proved that he
had made no idle boast when he had said that he
could do most anything.  The man was a splendid
rider and roper, and a good mixer with the boys who
seemed to like him from the very first.  Bob could
not see that he displayed any more interest in Royce
than was perfectly natural for one of his make up.
He seemed naturally sympathetic and appeared
anxious to cheer the boy up whenever occasion
offered.  But that was all.

But there was one member of the household who
did not like Los Varney.

"He's a snake in the grass," Sue told Bob before
Los had been with them a day.

"What makes you say that?" Bob asked her.

"How do I know.  I just know it, that's all," she
retorted.

"Intuition?"

"Maybe."

And then Bob told her what he suspected and why.

"I knew it," she declared, her eyes flashing fire,
as soon as he had finished.

"Then you think I'm right?"

"Of course, you're right.  Didn't I tell you he's
crooked?"

"But how can I prove it?"

"You can't.  That is you can't till something happens
but, you take my word for it, something'll happen
before many days go by.  Those fellows are
short on patience and don't wait long.  You'll see."

It was two nights later when something happened
which proved to Bob, at least, that both Sue and he
were right in their judgment of Los Varney.  He
woke up sometime during the night and, for some
reason which he could not fathom, was unable to go
to sleep again.  He turned first on one side and then
on the other, but it was no use.  He was not conscious
that he had heard anything or that anything had
awakened him.  Finally he determined to get a drink
of water and slipped quietly from the bed careful not
to disturb his brother.

In the kitchen he found the pail empty and, knowing
that he would probably wake the whole family if
he used the pump, he determined to go out to the
pump near the barn.  The night was very warm and
he did not fear taking cold even though he was clad
only in his pajamas.  He had gotten his drink and
was about to start back when something down by the
corral caught his eye.  It was bright moonlight and
he could see for a long distance.

"Wonder what that is," he thought.

Then he quickly slipped behind a tree, for he had
seen that it was a man.  The distance was too great
for him to be able to identify him but he did note
that it was a man of average height.  For some
moments the man stood perfectly still and, happening
to raise his eyes, Bob saw far out on the prairie the
flash of light.  Three times it flashed and then
stopped.  Then he glanced toward the man by the
corral and his heart gave a great bound as he saw
the signal returned.

"I knew it," he thought.  "But I've got to be sure
that it's he."

But that was easier thought than done.  There was
nothing between the tree and the corral behind which
he could hide and the man would not come much
nearer him than he now was if he waited until he
returned to the house.  While he was trying to devise
some plan the signal from the prairie came again and
this time it flashed for a longer time before waiting
for the answer.  At first Bob thought they might be
using the Morse code.  He could read it easily but
when he tried to translate the flashes into words he
was unable to get a single letter and was forced to
conclude that they were using an arbitrary code.

He thought of making a wide detour behind the
barn and up the other side of the corral but decided
that it would take so much time that the chances
were that the man would be gone before he could get
there.  Then suddenly a plan struck him which he
believed gave a fair promise of success, provided only
that the man did not see him too soon.

Stretching both arms out in front he stepped boldly
out from behind the tree and started to walk
directly toward the man who was still flashing his
light.  If only he would keep it up until he got near
enough to see him plainly, he thought, and walked as
rapidly as he dared.  Closer and closer he came and
still the man did not once turn around.  Not until he
was within twenty feet of him did he become aware
of his presence, then he turned and saw him.

"What are you--" the man began and then stopped
for Bob was walking straight past seemingly not
paying him the slightest attention.  "He's sleep
walkin'," he heard him mutter as he passed within
three feet of him.

It was Los Varney, Bob got a good look at his face
just as he turned and he also had no trouble in
recognizing his voice.  He walked straight past him and
did not change his course until he was all of a
hundred yards away.  Then he turned in such a way as
to bring him back in a wide circle to the front of
the house.  What Los was doing he did not know as
he did not dare to turn his head in the slightest
degree.  The man might be following him and he
feared that the least false move would give him
away.  So he reached the house and got to his room
without another sight of the man.

"Whew, but I believe it worked," he thought as
he crept into bed.

That Los Varney was the man he thought had
been proven to his own satisfaction but just what
his object was was still an open question.  Was it to
wreak vengeance on Royce for deserting the gang
or was it to gain some information which would
enable Hains to run off more cattle?  Ought he to go
to Jeb at once and tell him what he had seen or
would it be better to wait until morning.  On the one
hand there was the possibility that they were going
to make another raid that very night but, on the
other, should he try and inform the foreman right
away, the chances were more than even that Los
would be aware of it.  On the whole he decided that
the better plan was to wait until morning and take a
chance that whatever the signals meant it was not
scheduled for that night.

"I might spill all the beans," he thought, "if I do
anything more tonight."

It was a long time before sleep came to him but
finally he dropped off and the sun was shining in
at the window when he awoke.  He lost no time in
hunting up Jeb and telling him what he had seen in
the night.

"Well, well, is it possible that old Los has gone
wrong?  It looks like it for a fact.  But you certainly
did pull off a slick stunt and I'll bet he's guessing
now what it was all about."

"But don't you think it's serious?" Bob asked
anxiously.

"Serious!  You bet your life it's serious.  If Los
Varney belongs to that gang, and I reckon I've got
to own up that the chances are that he does, after
what you saw last night, there's no telling what may
happen."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Jeb scratched his head.  "What would you do?"
he asked.

"I'd have him arrested."

"That might be a good plan but I was thinking
that perhaps it would be better to give him a little
more rope and see if he won't hang himself.  If he
ain't suspicious any now he'll go right ahead and,
now that we know that he's up to something, maybe
we can catch him at it or find out what his gang's
planning to do."

"I guess that would be better," Bob agreed
thoughtfully.

"Then suppose you and Jack turn detective and
keep an eye on him.  But you'll have to be mighty
careful and not give yourselves away.  There's one
thing in your favor," he added after a moment's
pause.  "Los isn't what you'd call quick witted, that
is, he didn't used to be, and I kind of wonder that
Hains would pick him for a job of this kind."

"Perhaps he thought you wouldn't suspect him
because you used to know him," Bob suggested.

"I reckon that's it and, frankly, I didn't, not till
you told me what you saw last night."

Just then Charlie rang the bell for breakfast and,
with a parting word to be careful, Jeb led the way
into the house.




CHAPTER X.

ON WATCH.

Bob had not seen Jack before breakfast as he had
gotten up some time before and had gone for a ride
with Sue.  But they returned before the meal was
over and Bob came in for a good bit of joshing for
being such a sleepy head.

"Your shift has been on duty two hours already,"
Sue told him.

"Then why isn't Jack on the job?" he retorted.

"Because I ordered him to ride with me," Sue
told him.

"Then I reckon he's excused," Bob smiled.

Here Jeb broke in and told them what had happened
during the night and what their plans were.

"I knew it," Sue declared as soon as he had
finished.  "I felt it in my bones that he was a bad
one the minute I laid eyes on him."

"Your bones must be pretty sensitive," her father
laughed.

"Well, you'll have to admit that they're usually
right," she retorted.

"As if I'd dare to do anything else."

"You better hadn't."

Los Varney had been assigned to neither of the
shifts but had been given work about the corral and,
soon after breakfast was over, Bob wandered out
that way.  His idea was to talk with him and try
and find out if he was in any way suspicious
because of what had happened the night before.  He
found him mending the fence on the farther side.

"How come you ain't riding herd?" Los greeted him.

"Oh, Jeb seemed to think they didn't need us any more."

"I reckon he's right.  Probably Hains has cleared
out afore this.  He don't often hang out long in one
place.  That's what makes him so hard ter catch."

"Did you ever see him?" Bob asked.

"Once, 'bout two year ago.  He's a big brute of
a man."

"So I've heard."

"He shore is an' I'd hate ter meet him on a dark
night, that is if he had anything agin me.  They say,
though, that he treats his friends right."

"But that's not much in his favor."

"I 'spose not, but I've known some what didn't."

For a moment there was a pause while Los was
fitting a board, then he looked up and asked:

"Do yer ever walk in yer sleep?"

Bob was prepared for the question and showed
just the right amount or surprise.

"Why, no, not that I know of.  Why?"

"Oh, nothin'.  I jest thought mebby yer did.  I
had a brother once and he uster walk in his sleep
most every night."

"But what made you think I had the habit?" Bob
asked innocently.

"I didn't think so, I only thought mebby you
had," he replied a bit impatiently.

"Oh, I see."

After a little more talk about things in general
Bob took his departure well satisfied that the man
had no suspicion that he was playing a part the
previous night.

"I guess Jeb was right about him being slow
witted," he thought as he walked slowly back to the
house.

He found Sue, together with Jack and Royce on
the porch and lost no time in telling them of his talk
with Los.  He did not hesitate to speak in Royce's
presence as the boy had proved himself in the fight
and he had every confidence that he was sincere in
his reformation.

"It's funny that I can't place the man," Royce
said when he had finished, "because, of course, there
can be little doubt but that he's a member of the
gang."

Jeb had left for town shortly after breakfast and
returned late in the afternoon.  That he was in a
perturbed state of mind was easily seen.

"I don't know what we're coming to," he said as
he came up on the porch.

"Smatter, Pop?" Sue, who was lying in a hammock
reading a story aloud to the boys, asked.

"Fellow by the name of Harris lost over two hundred
head last night.  He lives over the other side
of the town and has one of the richest and best
ranches in the State.  I tell you things are hot in
town, and the way folks are razzing Skeets is a
caution.  He'll simply have to do something mighty
quick or resign his job.  The ranchers won't stand
for it much longer.  Sometimes I wonder if he isn't
in cahoots with Hains in some way."

"Do you mean it, Dad?"

"Oh, I don't know whether I do or not.  I always
thought he was honest till lately but I don't see how
a man can be sheriff and get away with as little
stuff as he does."

Bob and Jack had a long conference together
earlier in the afternoon and half decided on a plan,
but Jeb's account of the robbery the night before so
far away from the ranch had put a different light on
things.

"The most of the gang must have been over there
last night," Bob said as they met out in the big barn
shortly before supper time.

"Then they probably left someone behind to signal
Los," Jack suggested.

"Guess there's no doubt about that."

"Well, what'll we do now?"

"Watch him after it gets dark."

"Right."

"Do you think they're after the cattle or is it
Royce they want?" Jack asked a few minutes later.

"Both, I imagine.  Jeb was telling me the other
day that the man Hains is a man who never forgets
a real or a fancied wrong and that it's his boast that
no man ever crossed him and didn't pay up for it."

"Lovely disposition, I'll say."

As soon as supper was over the boys went out by
the shack and pitched horse shoes with those of the
hands that were on the day shift.  Los Varney was
there, but took no part in the game declaring that he
was too tired, and soon after eight he reckoned he'd
turn in.

"Hitting the hay early, ain't yer, Los?" one of
the men asked.

"Yep, yer see I been fixin' fence all day an' I ain't
used ter the job.  Good night."

"Night, Los," they all sang out as he entered the
shack.

"He's certainly popular with the men," Bob told
Jack a little later as they were walking back toward
the house.

"Seems so, and it may seem strange to you, but
somehow I can't help having a kind of sneaking liking
for him myself.  I'm ashamed of it, but it's so."

"Same here," Bob acknowledged.  "He's a likeable
fellow all right but we mustn't let that influence
us.  The man's crooked and he's got to pay if we
can make him."

"Of course," Jack agreed.

On the porch they found Jeb and Sue.  Royce
had retired feeling a bit tired, Sue told them.

"We're going to watch Los tonight," Bob announced.

"Nothing doing," Jeb said promptly.

"Oh, we'll be careful and it's the only way we can
think of," Jack argued.

Jeb held out for some time but finally they
obtained a hesitating consent on the condition that
they would be careful and take no chances.

"Remember I'm responsible to Mr. Leeds for you
and if anything happens I'll get the blame," he
cautioned them.

"We'll see that it doesn't," Bob assured him.

It was nearly dark by this time and, as the sky
was clouded over, it gave promise of a dark night.
Cowboys, as a rule go to bed early and, shortly after
nine o'clock the light in the shack went out.  They
waited another hour and then decided it was time
to go.

"You let me know if anything happens," was
Jeb's parting order.

To the right of the shack and only a few feet
away was a small shed with an open front where
small tools were kept.  From it the door of the
shack was visible and the boys had decided to make
it their headquarters for the night, there being little
likelihood of their being seen by one coming from
the shack.

"Now there's no need of both of us keeping
awake," Bob said after they had arranged a couple
of barrels in front of them leaving sufficient space
between them for a lookout.  "You lie down on
those gunny sacks and I'll stand the first watch until
twelve o'clock."

"You'll call me then?"

"Sure."

"That a promise, remember."

"Surest thing you know."

Jack threw himself down and in less than five
minutes his regular breathing told his brother that
he was in the land of Nod.  It was very quiet and,
save for the occasional whinnie of one of the horses
in the corral, hardly a sound came to his ears.  Slowly
the minutes passed and it seemed to the waiting boy
that two hours must surely have gone when his
watch told him that he had been there but a little
more than an hour.  He was having a hard time to
keep awake long before twelve o'clock came.  But
he persisted and at last the hands of his watch
pointed to the hour.

"All quiet along the Potomac?" Jack asked as he
awoke at his brother's touch.

"All quiet," Bob told him.

"All right, now you get to sleep."

"We'll only stay till three o'clock," Bob proposed.
"If he doesn't do anything by that time there's not
much chance that he'll make a move before tomorrow
night."

"Then I'll call you at three," Jack whispered.

"Make it half after two and we'll take the last half
hour together."

"All right.  Half after two it is."

It was not fifteen minutes later that Jack heard a
slight creaking sound.  Instantly he was on the
alert his eye glued to the space between the two
barrels.  Someone was cautiously opening the door of
the shack and, an instant later he saw a form step
out.  Although it was so dark that he could hardly
see the man he had no doubt, but that it was Los.
Who else would be creeping out at that time of the
night?  For what seemed to the boy a long time the
man stood on the steps as though listening.  Then,
evidently satisfied that he had gotten out without
disturbing any of the men, he stole softly away
through the darkness toward the corral.

Jack laid his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He's come out," he whispered.

"Where is he?"

"Gone toward the corral."

"Then we must follow him, but don't make a sound."

At the door of the shed the two boys listened a
moment but heard nothing.

"You wait here and let me see if I can get a line
on him," Jack whispered.

"Better let me go."

"No, I spoke first.  I'll get up close to the corral
fence and if you hear me give the call of the
whip-poor-will you come a-running."

"All right, but you be careful."

Jack stole away and in an instant the darkness
had swallowed him up.  Ten minutes passed and
then the notes of the whip-poor-will floated to him
from the direction of the corral.

"That's Jack," he whispered to himself as he set
out.

He had covered only about half the distance to the
corral when he saw a form coming toward him and
in a moment Jack joined him.

"He's taken one of the horses and gone off toward
the hills," he told him.

"What'll we do?  Go tell Jeb?"

"And let him get away?"

"Think we'd better follow him then?"

"Sure.  Come on."

"But we told Jeb we'd be careful."

"Well, we will, but we've simply got to know what
he's up to.  Of course he's gone to meet someone."

"Unless he's gone for good."

"But I don't believe that."

"Well, neither do I."

They had been moving rapidly toward the corral
while talking and by this time had reached the big
gate.  Opening it a trifle they stepped inside and
Bob called softly to Satan.  A soft whinnie answered
him and a moment later a soft nose was rubbing his
shoulder.  It took Jack a bit longer to pick out his
horse, but it was not much more than ten minutes
after the man had started before they too were off.

"I'm not sure but we're doing a fool thing after
all," Bob said as they started.

"How come?" Jack asked.

"Well, what chance have we of finding him in this
darkness?"

"Perhaps not much but it's a chance."

They did not dare to gallop the horses for fear
the man would hear them so they held them in to a
fast trot which, on the soft ground, made hardly a
sound.  They had been riding in this way for the
better part of an hour when Jack, who was slightly
in the lead, saw a spot of light flash up far ahead.

"Did you see that?" he asked turning around in
the saddle.

"Yes," Bob replied.

"What's your guess?"

"Someone lighting his pipe."

"Mine too.  I believe he's reached the rendezvous
and is waiting.  What do you say?"

"Wouldn't wander."

"How far away should you say he is?"

"It's pretty hard to judge, but I'd set it at 300
yards."

"You hold the horses and I'll creep up and see if
I can get a line on what's doing," Jack suggested.

Bob objected at first but finally, after Jack had
positively refused to let him go, gave a reluctant
consent cautioning him not to try to get too close.

There was neither tree nor shrub on the prairie to
give him concealment but he knew that a man could
see but a few feet in that darkness and he thought
he could get near enough to overhear a conversation
if there was one being carried on.  He stopped every
few feet to listen and it was not long before he
heard a voice.

"Seems ter me he ought ter be gettin' here prutty
soon."

It was Los's voice and it was evident that the man
was talking to himself.  Jack could tell that he was
not many feet distant although he could not see him
and he decided to wait where he was and not risk
trying to get closer.  So he stretched himself at full
length on the ground and waited.  He could hear the
other's horse as he moved about feeding on the short
grass and, every now and then, the man muttered a
few words of impatience.

Then, after he had been lying there for some thirty
minutes the soft sound of hoofs striking the ground
reached his eager ears.

"He's coming," he thought.

Nearer and nearer came the hoof beats and soon
it was plain that the rider was urging his horse at
a fast pace.  The sound was coming from the direction
of the hills and for a time Jack was afraid that
he was in the line and was about to crawl to one side
when the rider evidently changed his course a bit
to the right and he kept his place.  Almost at the
same time a flash of light came from Los as a signal
to the unknown rider.  The man must have seen it
at once for he again changed his course and once
more the boy was in line.  Quickly he crawled to
one side and had covered but a few feet when the
horse dashed past.

"Pretty close shave that," he thought as he again
stretched out at full length.

"Your late, Gramp," he heard Los say a moment
later.

"Couldn't help it," was the answer which Jack
barely caught.

Then they lowered their voices to such an extent
that he was unable to catch a word.  So he crept
softly, careful to make no sound, until he could see
their forms.  He was now not more than twenty
feet away and he dared not go nearer.  But, to his
great disappointment, they were talking hardly above
a whisper and he could only catch a word now and
then, not enough to get the drift of the conversation.
He heard Los mention the name of Royce but
in what connection he could not tell.

It was maddening to be so near and yet he told
himself, he might just as well be a thousand miles
away for all he was learning.  So intent was he in
trying to hear them that he failed to note that a rift
in the clouds was rapidly widening and, to his
consternation, the full moon suddenly burst through,
throwing a flood of light over the prairie.  It seemed
to the fear-stricken boy almost as light as day.  He
could see the two men so plainly that he could easily
distinguish their features and he saw that Los was
talking with a large black bearded man who was
well past middle age.

What was he to do?  He asked himself the question
several times.  Should he keep perfectly still where
he was and trust to luck that they would not see him
or should he try to creep away?  Neither plan seemed
to promise much hope of escaping detection.  Carefully
turning his head he saw Bob and the two horses
and was amazed that they loomed up so plainly.  He
fancied that Bob was beckoning to him but was not
sure.

"Then yer understand?"

He heard the black bearded man ask the question
in a much louder tone than he had been using.

"Sure," Los replied.

"Good.  Then I'll beat it.  Don't ferget day after
ter-morrow."

"I won't."

Both men mounted their horses and Jack tried to
flatten himself still farther into the grass.  It was a
tense moment and to say that he was frightened
would hardly begin to express his feelings.  He was
scared stiff, as he afterward confided to Bob.  It
seemed impossible that both men would fail to see
him and that they would shoot him on sight under
the circumstances was, he believed equally certain.

He had decided that his best chance was to lie
perfectly still and trust that either they would fail
to see him or, in case they did, would take his form
for a rock or log.  It was a slim hope, but all he had.
Did you ever try to lie perfectly still knowing that a
single slight movement might be the last you would
ever make.  If so then you have some idea of Jack's
feelings.

All these thoughts passed through the boy's mind
in the time that it took the two men to get into
their saddles and he was afraid they would hear the
beating of his heart so loudly did it seem to thump.

"Well, so long, Los," he heard the older man say.

"So long, Gramp," Los responded.

He knew that the stranger was turning his horse
and, in a minute, would be facing directly, or nearly
so, toward him.  Could he hope to escape detection
in that bright moonlight.  A silent prayer for protection
welled up in his heart as he heard the man speak
to his horse.  And the answer to the prayer came.
Just as suddenly as the rift in the clouds had opened
letting out the flood of moonlight, it now closed.  It
seemed as though a giant hand had drawn a giant
curtain over the face of the moon and darkness,
seemingly more intense than before, settled on the
prairie.  Jack's relief was so great that, for an
instant, he was incapable of action then, as he heard
the heavy breathing of a horse only a few feet away,
he quickly sprang to his feet and darted off.

"What's that?" he heard a voice cry out.

"Nothin' but a buzzard," another voice replied.

Jack ran for a hundred yards or more before he
stopped to listen.  He could hear the rapid beat of
hoofs not far off, but he quickly perceived that they
were getting farther and farther away.  So, with a
prayer of thankfulness in his heart, he started on
again.

"Bob!"  He did not dare speak the word very loudly,
but he was sure that if he had kept the right
direction, his brother should be close at hand.

But there was no reply and he walked a bit further
straining his eyes in an effort to pierce the darkness.

"Bob!"  Again there was no answer and he began
to fear that he had gotten off the course.

Then, a moment later, he saw a short distance
ahead a tiny point of light and hastened toward it
and in another moment the brothers were in each
other's arms.

"Talk about close calls," Jack whispered.

"You said it," Bob agreed.

"I sure thought I was a gone gosling."

"And you would have been if luck hadn't been
with you."

"Or God," Jack added quickly.

"You are right.  I believe it was God who pulled
those clouds together over the moon at just the right
time."

"He saved my life, I really believe," Jack said,
and, moved by the same impulse, the two brothers
sank on their knees in the grass and no more sincere
thanks ever reached the ear of God.

"But what did you find out?" Bob asked as they
got to their feet.

"That's the worst of it," Jack replied sadly.  "I
didn't learn a thing except that it's day after
to-morrow."

"What is?"

"That's what I don't know.  You see I didn't dare
get a foot nearer and they talked almost in whispers
and I could only hear a word now and then.  I
heard the big man say day after to-morrow but I
didn't get the connection at all."

"It's too bad, of course, but I'm mighty glad you
didn't get any nearer.  They'd have seen you sure as
fate if you'd been a foot closer and it wasn't worth
that, boy, not by a long shot."

"But we know that something's on the cards for
the day after tomorrow.  I suppose he really meant
tomorrow as it was after twelve o'clock."

"Probably."

"But it's not dead sure."

"No, I suppose not."

"I wish we could be sure."

"'If wishes were horses,' you know," Bob quoted.

"Well, I guess we might as well be getting back
now," Jack proposed after a moment's pause.

"But we've got to be mighty careful that Los
doesn't run into us."

"That's so.  If he found out that we're out
to-night he'd know something was up."

"Sure he would.  Now I reckon we'd better take
it easy and let him get in first.  He'll probably hit
it for home about as fast as he can make it."

"But suppose he should notice that our horses are
gone?"

"He'd probably smell a mouse, but he isn't apt to
notice it.  He'll just turn his horse in and hit the
hay as soon as he can.  Anyhow, that's a chance
we've got to take.  We probably couldn't beat him
to it now even if we tried."

"You're right, of course, but I'll be nervous till I
know he doesn't know that we know what we know."

"Two bad you couldn't get a few more knows in
that last statement," Bob laughed.

They waited a few minutes longer and then
mounted the horses and started at a slow trot for
the ranch.  The first hint of the coming dawn was
showing in the eastern sky as they stole swiftly into
the house after turning the horses into the corral.

"I'm not sure the game was worth the candle,"
Jack declared as he tumbled info bed.

"Time will tell," Bob replied sleepily from beneath
the covers.




CHAPTER XI.

SKEETS STAGES A FARCE.

Although it had been after three o'clock when
they got to bed the boys were up before seven.  In the
first place, they were anxious that Jeb should know
the little they had learned and then they feared that,
should they sleep later than usual, Los might know
of it and be suspicious.  Jeb was eating breakfast
alone as they came from their room.

"Well?" he asked as they took their seats.

"Not particularly," Jack replied.

"Not particularly what?"

"Well."

"Oh, I see, and what's wrong?"

"That's what we don't know," Bob told him.  Then
he gave him an account of what had happened in the
night.

"But you said you'd keep out of danger," Jeb said,
turning to Jack after Bob had finished.

"But I didn't know that cloud was going to break
open just at that time.  You see, there would have
been no danger if it hadn't."

"No, I don't see, but we'll let it go at that," Jeb
said dryly.  "Did you say you heard him say to-morrow?"

"The day after to-morrow," Jack corrected him.
"To-day's Wednesday and, as he was speaking last
night, I suppose he meant Thursday."

"That's the way we took it, but it was after twelve
and I suppose he might have meant Friday," Bob
suggested.

"Not a chance," Jeb assured them.  "The next
day doesn't come out here till it's daylight.  He meant
Thursday, all right, but just what he meant is an
unknown quantity."

Just then the telephone rang and Jeb got up to
answer it.  The instrument was in the dining-room
and they could readily hear what he was saying.

"I'll bet it's the sheriff," Bob whispered.

"Wouldn't wonder," Jack agreed.

"All right," Jeb was saying.  "We'll be ready.
How many?  Why there'll be six or eight of us.
I'll have to leave a few of the boys here to look after
things, you know.  About ten?  All right, good-bye."

"That was Skeets," he told them as he resumed
his seat.  "He's got a posse together and is going to
make another of his spectacular hunts for Hains and
his gang.  Guess he got tired of being razzed.  But
it won't mean a thing.  He won't find 'em."

"But you said you'd go," Jack said.

"Sure I said I'd go.  I always do.  It wouldn't do
not to back him up, you know.  He'll come riding
up here in about two hours at the head of about
twenty men and boys all armed to the muzzle, so to
speak, and he'll tell about how he's sure to find 'em
this time and what he'll do with 'em once he gets
his hands on 'em.  I wish I knew Skeets was honest,"
he added after a short pause.

"Can we go?" Bob asked.

"Why, sure.  There's no danger along with Skeets."

"How about me?"  Sue had entered the room
unobserved in time to catch the drift of the conversation.

"Nothing doing," her father said.  "Not," he
added, "that there's the least bit of danger, but how'd
it look for a girl to be galavantering off with a gang
of men and her the only female in the party.  No,
sir, you're enough of a tom-boy as it is."

She did not press the point, contenting herself with
saying that it wouldn't be much fun, anyway.

"You see, she's used to Skeets' raids," Jeb laughed.

"I'll say I am," she agreed.

"Suppose one of you boys run down to the shack
and tell the boys to get what sleep they can before
ten o'clock.  They've been in most two hours and
likely some of 'em are in bed now."

"How about Los?" Bob asked as he started up
from his chair.

"That's so.  What about Los?" Jeb repeated
thoughtfully.  "What do you think.  Better tell him
about it?"

"I'd say yes," Bob declared, adding: "If we don't
it seems to me he'll suspect that we suspect him."

"Guess you're right.  Anyhow I don't see's he can
do any harm if he goes along."

When Bob reached the shack he found all the boys
off duty in bed except Slim and Grumpy.

"Now, what do yer know 'bout that?" Grumpy
growled after Bob had delivered Jeb's message.
"After workin' all night, too."

"But think o' the glory," Slim told him.

"Glory nuthin'.  Whar's the glory in chasin' all
over the country an' never findin' anything?"

"But the sheriff thinks this is going to be an
exception," Bob told him.

"Aw, he's allays thinkin' that kind o' stuff,"
Grumpy snorted as he turned in.

Bob found Los out behind the corral still working
on the fence, and he watched him closely as he told
him about the coming hunt, but there was no trace
of surprise or fear in the man's manner as he
listened.

"Did Jeb say he wanted me ter go?" he asked.

"No, not particularly.  He just said to tell you
together with the rest of the men."

"Well, tell him I'll go 'long," he said after a
moment's thought.  "I planned ter get this fence done
ter day, but that's up ter him.  Don't make no
difference ter me."

By ten minutes before ten o'clock the boys, including
Los, were gathered near the porch, their horses
all ready.

"Bet yer two bits he's half an hour late," Grumpy
growled to no one in particular.

"Take yer," Stubby shouted.

Stubby won the bet, for it was only fifteen minutes
later when a cloud of dust was seen and in another
ten minutes the small army swept in through
the gate.  There were, as Jeb had predicted, about
twenty in all and the sheriff was riding at the head.
He was a middle-sized man of about forty, his face
tanned to the shade of a Mexican and he looked very
pompous as he rode up to the porch leaving the rest
of the men a few yards away.

"All ready?" he shouted in a deep bass voice.

"All set, Skeets," Jeb assured him waving his hand
toward the horses.  "What's the dope?"

"Dope's all right an' we're goin' ter get 'em this
time.  I've put up with all I agoin' ter an' I'm jest
goin' ter clean that gang up good an' thorough an'
show some of the folks 'round here who's who."

"That's the talk, Skeets.  That's the kind of
sheriff this county needs," Jeb told him.

By this time they were all in the saddle and lost
no time in setting out for the hills.  The boys
brought up the rear and Sue waved them a good-bye
from the porch.

"I reckon Jeb had him sized up about right," Jack
said in a low tone to Bob as they rode through the
gate.

"You mean the sheriff?"

"Sure."

"He plays the part, all right."

As soon as they were away from the house they
turned toward the north and the sheriff set a rapid
pace.  Sue had pointed out to them a narrow cleft
in the hills in the direction they were heading and
had explained that it was called "the Crotch," and
for nearly two hours they kept on, stopping only
once to allow the horses a short breathing spell.  They
reached the entrance to The Crotch shortly after
noon and there they halted while those who had
brought a lunch ate it and also to allow the horses
a short time to graze.

"What makes you think he's up this way, Skeets?"
Jeb asked the sheriff as the latter came up where he
and the two boys were sitting.

"Well, I'll tell yer.  Yer see one of the Halliday
boys was in ter town yesterday an' he said that as he
was coming through The Crotch he heard a powerful
lot of shoutin' an' it sounded 's though thar was
a lot of cattle not far off.  So I figger that Hains
must have his place whar he rebrands up this way
somewhere."

He passed on and Jeb laughed.  "That's always
the way with him.  Always has plenty of dope and
sometimes a hunch.  Funny he didn't say anything
about a hunch.  But that's all it amounts to.  I'll bet
a five dollar gold piece against a lead nickel that
Hains ain't within twenty miles of here and, the
worst of it is, I'm afraid that he knows it.  I hate
like blazes to think it of Skeets but I can't help it."

"Now, boys," the sheriff was standing on a large
rock so that all could see him.  "I've got a hunch that
Hains' place is somewhere not far from here and
that the trail ter it branches off from The Crotch.
Now my idea is ter ride along slow like an' examine
every bit of the way.  He can't drive a big lot of
cattle off the main trail an' not leave no marks, that's
sartin, and we can't help findin' 'em if we look sharp
enough."

"Got a magnifying glass, Skeets?" someone called out.

"What you want a magnifying glass fer?" the
sheriff snapped.

"Thought mebby we'd be able ter see them signs
better."

A shout of laughter went up and the sheriff grew
very red in the face as he got down from the stone
and mounted his horse without another word, and
soon they were in motion again.

The Crotch was a deep defile between the high
hills which in places rose almost perpendicularly.  The
path itself was several feet wide in places, but now
and then narrowed down so that but one rider could
pass at a time.  Under foot it was uneven and rocky,
making fast riding impossible.

"Who'd be fool enough ter try ter drive a bunch
of cattle in here?" one man growled.

"It's probably because he's gone where no one
would expect him ter go that nobody's been able
fer find him," another retorted.

For over an hour they plodded through the
passageway, every man keeping a close watch for any
sign, however small, which might indicate a lead-off
into the hills.  But no such passage was found and
about two o'clock they suddenly emerged onto a
broad plateau which sloped gently down to the Rio
Grande some two miles off.

"Guess your hunch had a kink in it, Skeets," someone
called out.

The sheriff appeared quite crestfallen, although it
seemed to Bob that he rather overdid it.

"Looks kinder like it fer a fact," he acknowledged.
"And I was sartin we'd find him this time.  But,
remember, boys, you all get paid fer a day's work jest
the same."

After a short rest for the horses they started home
and reached the ranch soon after four o'clock.

"Didn't I tell you it was all a fake?" Jeb asked
as soon as the rest of the party had gone on.  "He
had no more idea of finding Hains than a squirrel
has of storing up cheese for winter."

"It looked that way to me," Bob said.

"Why a blind man could see it," Jeb insisted.

"Pretty near," Jack agreed.

"Did you notice Los any to-day?" Jeb asked after
a short pause.

"Yes," Bob replied, "and it seemed to me that he
was particularly light-hearted."

"Of course he was.  He knew we were on a wild
goose chase, and that their plans for to-morrow
weren't going to be interfered with, at least so far
as Skeets was concerned.  But I'm some worried
about them same plans.  I have a hunch they're
planning something big and that I'm to be the goat."

"It seems to me," Bob began, "that you've got
enough evidence against him to warrant accusing
him of being in cahoots with the rustlers."

For several moments Jeb was silent and the boys
could see that a struggle was going on in his mind.

"I suppose you're right," he finally said.  "But I
sure do hate to do it."

Just then the object of their conversation came
up to the porch where they were sitting and Jeb
decided to take the bull by the horns and have it over
with.

"Los," he began before the man had time to speak,
"I want to ask you a question and I want a straight
answer.  Who were you signaling to night before
last?"

Bob was watching the man closely and he saw
him give a sudden though slight start.

"What yer mean, signaling?" he demanded.

"You know what I mean.  Come, out with it."

"I didn't signal no one."

"What's the use of lying, Los?  You know me well
enough to know that I wouldn't accuse you if I didn't
have you dead to rights."

Los turned a look of malignancy toward Bob as
much as to say he knew where Jeb had gotten his
information.

"I reckon it ain't any use fer me ter say any more,"
he said sullenly.

"Then you refuse to tell?"

"You heard me."

"Then I don't suppose you'll tell me who it was you
met out on the prairie last night."

"Who--" Los began but Jeb stopped him.

"It's no use for you to deny it, man.  I know that
you're a member of Red Hains' gang and that
you've got a plan on for tomorrow."

"Then you know more'n I do," he growled.

As he spoke Bob saw his hand creep back toward
his hip pocket and was about to utter a warning when
Jeb said:

"Keep your hands away from your pocket and put
'em up."

Bob had one eye on him as he spoke and he afterward
declared that he did not see his hand move but
before he had finished speaking Los was looking old
Betsey in the face.

"I hate to have to do this, Los, but I reckon you've
forfeited all claim to my friendship and if you make
a single move I'll put a hunk of lead where it'll do the
most good."

"But I tell yer yer've got this all wrong, Jeb," Los
insisted.

"Sorry, but I don't think so.  In the drawer in my
desk, Bob, you'll find a pair of handcuffs.  Get 'em,
will you?"

Bob hastened to obey and, at Jeb's order, snapped
them over the wrists of the angry man.

"This here's the worst job yer ever did fer yerself,
Jeb."

"May be it is but, in this world we have to do
what seems best at the time and, much as it goes
against the grain, it sure seems the proper caper just
now.  Jack, run down to the shack and tell a couple
of the boys I want 'em, will you?  Get Slats and Slim
if you can."

"Boys," Jeb said a few minutes as Slim, Slats and
Jack came up, "I have reason to feel sure that this
man's a spy and a member of Hains' gang of
rustlers."

"You sure, Boss?"  Slim looked his incredulity.

"I'm dead certain."  And he told them the evidence
against him.

"It's all wrong," Los insisted but they paid no
attention to him.

"Now what yer know 'bout that?" Slim turned to
Slats who merely shrugged his shoulders.  "Guess
then the only thing ter do is to swing him," he
suggested.

"No, boys, we won't hang him though I've no
doubt he richly deserves it.  Take him out to the barn
and lock him up in one of the box stalls.  They're
good and strong and, with these bracelets on, I
reckon he'll stay put."

"Seems ter me that's goin' ter a lot of trouble
when he'll swing later on anyhow.  Of course, what
yer say goes, Boss.  Come on thar, yer mangy
coyote."

"Yer'll be sorry fer this the longest day yer live,
Jeb," Los threatened as the men led him away.

"I'm sure sorry that a thing of this sort should
have happened," Jeb told the boys after Los was out
of hearing.  "But I do wish I had a line on what was
on the cards for tomorrow."

"You don't suppose it's to be an attack on the
ranch, do you?" Bob asked, but Jeb shook his head.

The night passed quietly.  Bob and Jack were both
wakeful and several times between cat naps they stole
softly out of the house and watched the distant hills.
Jeb too was uneasy and nearly every time they awoke
they could hear him moving about in his room.  But
at last morning came and it was a rather mournful
crowd that gathered about the breakfast table.

"Goodness gracious!" Sue broke out when they
were about half through eating.  "A body'd think
this was a funeral.  What's the matter with everyone?"

"Guess we're all kind of scared and don't want to
say so," Jeb smiled.

"Well, I'm not scared.  What is there to be afraid
of I'd like to know?  Here we've got fourteen able
bodied men and they haven't got more'n about half
that number at the most.  You say the word and
I'll go out alone and bring 'em in."

"You got gumption enough to do it all right," Jeb
grinned, "but I reckon you'd find that you had bit off
more'n you could chew."

"Well, maybe so but I'm off for a ride.  Come on,
boys, bet I'll get my saddle on first."

It was a glorious morning as they set out a few
minutes later at a slow canter across the prairie in
the direction of the hills.

"Don't get too far away," Jeb shouted as they left.

"I'll race you to the top of the knoll," Sue
challenged as soon as they were fairly away from the
house.

It was merely an excuse for a burst of speed as
Satan could easily out run the other horses and they
were some distance in the rear when Bob drew rein
on the top of the rise.

"He sure can run some," Sue declared as she rode
up a moment later about fifty feet ahead of Jack.

"You said it," Bob agreed proudly.

For a few minutes they waited to give their mounts
a breathing spell then Bob asked:

"Shall we keep on or circle around?"

"Oh, let's keep on," Sue said, "So long as we don't
go into the hills we'll be safe enough."

So they rode on and on until the foothills were only
a few hundred yards away.  Then Bob drew up.

"I reckon this is as far as we'd better go," he said.

"I suppose so," Sue agreed.  "We'll let the horses
breath a spell and then hit the back trail."

They dismounted and, throwing the reins over the
horse's heads allowed them to browse on the thick
grass while they strolled about to stretch their limbs.

"Well, I guess it'll be about time for chow by the
time we get back," Sue said a half hour later.

She had scarcely spoken the words when Bob
uttered an exclamation of dismay.

"Look," he gasped.

Out from the foothills came a half dozen men
riding at full gallop directly toward them.

"It's the Hains gang," Jack gasped.

"Let's beat it," Sue cried springing for her horse.

"No use," Bob told her.  "They'll be here before
we can get started."

She saw that what he said was true for, even then,
the men were close at hand, and a moment later they
were surrounded.

"What yer doin' out here?" the leader, whom they
at once recognized as Hains, demanded.

"Just taking a little ride," Bob told him.

"Be, eh.  Well, suppose you take another back the
way yer came."

"We were just going to," Bob said as he vaulted
into his saddle.

"Wait a minute," Hains demanded.  "You got a
feller by the name o' Royce at the ranch, ain't yer?"

"What if we have?" Bob asked easily.

"A lot of it.  I want him, that's what."

"Then you'd better come and get him."

"I don't have ter.  Yer agoin' ter send him ter me."

"What makes you think so?"

"I don't have ter think so, I know it."

"Indeed."

Bob could keep his temper down as well as most
boys but he was a bit nettled by the man's assurance
and could not help showing it.

"Indeed I'll show yer," Hains snapped.  "You two
youngsters get out o' here while the gettin's good.
The girl stays with us."

"What?"

"Yer heard me.  Git."

"But--"

"Thar's no buts about it.  When I say git I mean git."

Bob could see that the man meant business and his
heart sunk within him.  He was no coward but what
could he and Jack do against six armed men?  And
yet, to desert the girl, even under the circumstances,
seemed to him impossible.

"What are you going to do with her?" he asked.

"Keep her till Royce comes back ter me."

"Why not keep me instead?" Bob asked eagerly.

"Nuthin' doin'.  We're goin' ter keep the girl an'
yer can tell her father that when he gives that guy
Royce up ter us he kin have his gal back and not
afore."

"I won't go," Bob asserted stoutly.

"You might as well, Bob," Sue broke in.  "They've
got me and you can't help it."

"But, Sue, I can't leave you like this," he protested.

"I reckon as how yer kin an' what's more yer a
goin' ter an' pronto too.  Git hold of her reins, Jim,
an' be off with yer.  I'll tend ter these kids," Hains
ordered.

The man called Jim rode up beside Sue and, taking
hold of her reins, spoke to his horse and at once
started back toward the hills followed by the rest
with the exception of the leader.

"Haven't you any manhood?" Bob asked scornfully.

"I've got six hunks o' lead in this gun if yer don't
do what I say," Hains growled.  "An' I'll give yer
just one minute ter start goin'."

The man had the gun in his hand and, seeing that
resistance would be folly, Bob turned to Jack.

"Come on, Jack."

But before giving the word to Satan he looked the
man full in the eyes and said:

"You dare to harm one hair of her head and I'll
get you if it's the last thing I ever do."

"Git."

"This is awful, Jack," Bob groaned as soon as
they were out of hearing.

"I'll say it's awful and then some," Jack repeated.
"But I can't see that it was our fault."

"No time to argue about that now.  We must get
to the ranch as soon as possible and give the alarm."

They were riding side by side while talking but
now Bob spoke to Satan and the horse seemed to
spurn the ground beneath his feet as he drew away
from Jack.  Bob never could seem to remember
much about that wild ride home.  His brain seemed
dulled by the calamity and all he was able to think
was, "How can I tell her father?"

Jeb was on the porch reading a paper as Bob, his
horse covered with lather, dashed in at the gate.

"Sue," he gasped as he threw himself from the saddle.

Jeb sprang to his feet.  "What about her?" he shouted.

"They--they've got her."

"Who has?"

"Hains and his gang."

"Give it to me quick," Jeb demanded, and, with
hanging head, Bob told him what had happened.

The man did not say a word until he had finished.

"It's bad, mighty bad," he declared as Bob came
to the end of his tale.

"I--I," Bob began.

"No, you're not to blame.  You did all you could.
I know you'd have saved her had it been possible.
Did he say how long he'd wait?"

"No, he set no time limit.  He only said that when
Royce came back to him he'd let Sue go."

"But he'll kill the boy," Jeb groaned.

"Do--do you think so?" Bob stammered.

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, he'll have the chance."

Royce was standing in the doorway as they
looked up.

"You mean--?"

"That I'm going to Hains at once, of course."

There was no trace of bravado in his voice as he
made the statement, only a fixed determination.

"But--" Jeb began.

"There's no room for buts," Royce declared.  "You
don't suppose I'd be enough of a skunk to allow your
daughter to suffer after what you've done for me.
Thank God I've got some manhood left."

Jeb could say nothing more but dropped his head
into his hand as Royce turned back into the house to
come out again almost immediately hatted and
booted.

"I reckon I'll have to take one of the horses," he
said as he paused a moment beside the two.  Then,
as Jeb nodded his head, he went on: "I want to thank
you both for what you did for me and if I never see
you again, I'll never forget you, never."

He was gone, running toward the corral, before
either Jeb or Bob could find words to answer him
and, a moment later, they saw him ride out mounted
on a roan, the poorest horse on the ranch.

"There goes a brave man to his death," Jeb
groaned.

"While there's life there's hope," Bob quoted.

Just outside the gate Royce met Jack.

"Where you goin?" Jack shouted.

"Just for a ride," the other called back.  "Goodbye
if I don't see you again," and with a wave of his
hand he was gone.

"Was he going to give himself up to Hains?" Jack
asked a moment later as he joined Bob and Jeb on
the porch.

"Yes," Jeb replied sadly.

"But what--?"

"I know, but what could I do?" Jeb groaned.

"You did just right and so did he," Bob declared.
"But we must do something and do it quick."

"What can we do?" Jeb asked looking up.

"Get the boys and follow him just as soon as he
gets far enough away so he won't see us."

"But he'll get out of sight in the hills long before
we can get there," Jack objected.

"Of course we'll have to take the chance of finding
him.  Remember he doesn't know where Hains'
hiding place is."

"Then how does he expect to find him?"

"I don't know.  Do you suppose he thought of
that?" Bob asked turning to Jeb.

"I doubt if he did.  But it's more'n likely that
Hains will have a man on the watch for him.  In fact I
imagine he knows that he's coming before this."

"Then he'd see us if we start before dark," Jack
suggested.

"Another chance we'll have to take, but, man,
we've got to do something."

"Surest thing you know.  I wasn't hinting at not
going," Jack assured him.

"I know that," Bob said quickly.  "But how soon
do you think we'd better start?" he asked turning to
Jeb.

"I'd say pretty soon," Jeb replied rising from his
chair.  "You boys go and tell the others about it
and send one of them after the boys who are on shift
and tell them to leave two on guard and the rest follow
us.  I'll get my boots on and be ready by the time
you get them rounded up."

The night shift had been inside the shack eating
dinner and so had seen nothing of Royce as he left
nor had they seen the boys return.  Great was the
excitement when Bob burst in and told them what
had happened.

"The miserable skunks!  Just wait till I get my
hands on 'em," Grumpy shouted as he jumped up and
strapped his gun belt about his waist.

"Thar won't be enough left of that Hains guy
ter sling a cat at when I get through with him,"
Slats declared as he followed suit.

Many other remarks of like character were uttered
as they were getting ready but the boys were already
on their way back to the house.  They found Jeb
waiting for them and in a few minutes the boys came
with horses.

"Spike's gone fer the others," Slats called out as
he rode up.

"Then I reckon we'd better be on our way," Jeb
said.  "But," he added, "we'll take it easy first along."

"Fer why?" Slats asked indignantly.

"I suspect Hains or one of his men is watching
from the hills to see if Royce is coming and we want
to give him time to quit before we get over the rise,"
Jeb explained.

"But s'pose he don't quit?" Slats asked.

"Then he'll see us and, of course that'll make it
harder but I don't see as we can help it.  If we wait
too long we'll likely lose him."

"We'll find him all right," Stubby shouted encouragingly.

"I hope so," Jeb returned soberly.

They started off at an easy lope and hardly a word
was spoken until they reached the top of the rise.

"There he is," Bob said pointing toward the
distant hills.

They could see Royce about half way between
where they were and the hills and they knew that
he was making the best time possible with the horse
he had.




CHAPTER XII.

THE "TAIL" OF THE MOUNTAIN LION.

"If he turns and sees us no knowing what he'll do,"
Jeb said as they paused a moment at the top of the
rise.

"But I don't believe he'll turn," Bob declared.
"He's only thinking of getting there and rescuing
Sue."

"Then you think we better make a rush for it?"

"I would."

"Then come on, boys, full speed ahead."

And now they let their horses out to the limit and
swept across the prairie like an avenging whirlwind.
They were about two-thirds of the way from the
rise to the hills when Royce reached the timber.  They
saw him draw rein and, for a moment hesitate as
though uncertain just where to go, then he started
again and the next minute was lost to view.  Twenty
minutes later, they were at the point where he
disappeared.  Far back they could see four horsemen
just coming over the rise.

"There comes Spike and the boys," Slats cried.

"But we can't wait for them," Jeb told him.

"Course not, but what's the plan?" Slats asked.

"It's too dry to trail him, I'm afraid so I think
we'd better split up and go in by twos.  We'll keep
within a short distance of each other however, and
two shots close together will be the signal to come
a-running."

"Righto, let's beat it," Slats agreed.

They had hardly started again when they met the
horse Royce had ridden coming out and they decided
that it would be better to leave the horses as they
believed they could make better time on foot and
there would be less danger of discovery.  So they
tied them to convenient trees and started off on foot
after Jeb had explained that the first to catch sight
of Royce was to notify the others by giving the hoot
of the owl, the signal of the shots to be used only
in case of an emergency.

Royce had entered the forest at a point about half
way between the trail which led to the Owl's Head
and that which they had taken the day before in
company with the sheriff.  It was the most rugged
appearing portion of the range and, as Bob and Jack
pushed their way in, it seemed to be getting ever
rougher.  There was nothing which even remotely
resembled a trail and huge boulders interspersed with
dense underbrush made their progress decidedly
difficult.

"I say, Bob, this seems kind of foolish to me," Jack
panted after they had been separated from the others
for some ten minutes.

"How come?" Bob asked.

"Well the whole thing seems fishy to me."

"What do you mean fishy?"

"Well, how did Royce know which way to go?"

"He didn't unless someone of the gang met him,"
Bob told him.

"You think someone did meet him?"

"I think it's more than likely."

"What makes you think so?"

"Common sense."

"How come?"

"Use your bean, boy, use your bean.  Hains would
know that he wouldn't know how to find him,
wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, I imagine he didn't have much doubt but
what he would come, no one would.  So isn't it
probable that he'd either meet him himself or have
someone else do it?"

"Sure Mike.  You reason like a lawyer.  But,
even so, what chance have we to find him or them?"

"Very slight, I'll admit, but, you know, one chance
in a million is better than none at all."

"I know that and I reckon you've got the ratio
about right, one chance in a million."

They had been pushing forward all the time they
were talking, all the while looking eagerly for a sign
which would tell them that Royce had come that
way.  At first the way had been a gradual rise but
soon it began to be steeper and by the time they had
come to the above point in their conversation it was
so nearly perpendicular that they were often obliged
to pull themselves up with the aid of the bushes
which grew here and there.  An hour slipped by
from the time they started into the hills and both
boys were panting with the exertion.

Suddenly Bob, who was a few feet ahead, stopped
and Jack saw that he was closely examining the
ground beside a huge rock.

"What you found?" he panted as he reached his
side.

"Look and see what you make of it."

Beside the rock was a bed of thick moss and he
could see that it was damp although the reason was
not apparent as everything was dry all about.  At first
he saw nothing which explained his brother's action
but a more thorough scrutiny disclosed two slight
depressions.  He got down on his knees the more
closely to examine them.

"They are foot prints," he announced a moment later.

"You sure?"

"No doubt of it."

"How old?"

"Not more than a half hour."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because it wouldn't take moss like this much
longer than that to obliterate marks like that.  You
ought to know that."

"I do, but I wanted to see if your opinion was the
same as mine."

"And is it?"

"Exactly."

"Then we're on the right trail unless----"

"Unless what?"

"Unless someone of our crowd has come this way
ahead of us."

"But they wouldn't be that far ahead."

"Not likely."

"Then I believe we've struck his trail and now to
see if we can find another mark to show which way
he went from here."

For fully ten minutes they searched before Jack
called softly:

"Here it is, Bob."

He was off a short distance above and slightly to
the right of the bed of moss and pointed to a freshly
snapped twig as his brother joined him.

"You're right," Bob declared after a quick examination.
"Now we've got the general direction, but
keep your eyes peeled."

They had climbed nearly a quarter of a mile, they
judged, before finding another sign and this time it
was only a small rock which had evidently slipped
and turned over as someone stepped on it.  But a
slight dampness on the top proved to their trained
senses that it had been but recently disturbed.

"We're going right," Bob declared much encouraged.

"You said it," Jack agreed.  "That rock must
have been turned not much more than fifteen minutes
ago."

"Not more than that surely."

"Then we're gaining on him," Jack declared.

"Or them," Bob corrected him.  "Don't forget
that there's probably two of them if not more."

"Him or them, it's all the same just so we find
Sue," Jack declared as they started off again.

If their way had been hard it was all but impassable
now.  The dead underbrush was so thick that often
they had to make a wide detour, but so dry was it
that, looking back, they could see that they had left
no trail behind them.

"Wonder how far it is to the top here," Jack
panted a little later as he pulled himself up a
particularly steep place by the branch of a convenient
tree.

"Goodness knows," Bob replied a few feet behind him.

"Well, it seems as though we must be most to the
top o' the world.  If we get much higher we'll have
to duck to let the clouds go past."

It had been nearly two hours since they started up
the hill and during that time they had neither seen
or heard a thing of their friends.  From time to
time they had seen signs which led them to believe
they were still on the right trail and to encourage
them to keep on.

"Wonder where the boys are," Bob said as they
paused a moment to get their breath.

"Goodness knows.  They can't be very near us or
we'd heard them.  I imagine they kept going straight
up while we've been bearing to the right ever since
we got on to the trail.

"Then likely they're miles off to our left."

"More than likely."

"But we can't very well get lost.  All we've got to
do is to go down hill and we're bound to come out
somewhere."

"But we're going to keep on till we strike something."

"You bet."

But when another hour had passed and they were
still mounting they were about tired out and Jack
declared that he'd have to rest.  So they threw
themselves on the ground where was a thick bed of moss
and relaxed their tired limbs.

"One thing's dead sure," Jack declared after they
had somewhat recovered their breath.

"What's that?" Bob asked.

"Either we're not gaining on them any more or
we're on a cold trail."

"I don't believe your last guess is right. We've
seen too many indications for it to be guess work."

"Then all I've got to say is that they're hiking it
some."

They rested for half an hour regretting the loss of
time but realizing that it was necessary, and then
took up the trail again.  They had gone but a short
distance when, suddenly a piercing shriek ran out
through the forest seemingly but a short distance
behind them.

"What was that?" Jack gasped stopping in his
tracks.

"I'm not sure but I think it must be a mountain
lion.  I've read that they yell something like that,"
Bob told him.

"It sounded to me like a woman yelling."

"I know.  That's what makes me think it was a
lion."

"Well, here's hoping he isn't on our trail."

Then another screech, nearer than the first, almost
made the blood curdle in their veins.

"I'm afraid it is though," Bob said slowly.

"What'll we do?  They're dangerous, aren't they?"

"I reckon so."

"How about a tree?"

"No good.  They live in trees."

Another time the shriek sounded and now they
were certain that the lion, if it was a lion, was
following them and could not be more than a few yards
off.

"It's a case of the hunters being hunted," Jack
declared.

"And we'll have to stand our ground and trust to
our revolvers.  Maybe he won't attack us," Bob advised.

The big cat did not yell again and they were
beginning to hope that it had passed them by after all,
when Bob saw a thick clump of bushes, about thirty
feet from where they stood, move and a pair of
yellow eyes peered out at them.  He nudged Jack and
pointed.

"Shall we shoot?" Jack whispered.

"Not yet.  Let's see what it's going to do."

The eyes remained motionless for a couple of
minutes then disappeared.

"Guess he thought he better hadn't," Jack whispered.

"Listen," Bob ordered.

They could just catch the soft rustle of a bush
now and then.

"He's creeping around to our right," Bob
whispered.

"We ought to have shot when we had the chance."

"Maybe, but I reckon we'll have another."

"But that was a peach of a shot," Jack insisted.

"There he is again."

This time the eyes looked out from a clump not
over twelve feet away and Bob whispered:

"Now let him have it."

But he spoke too late.  An angry snarl came from
the beast and the huge cat seemed to literally rise in
the air and sail toward them.

Bob's gun spoke while the cat was still in the air
but he knew that he had missed.

"Duck," he shouted as he sprang to one side.

Jack endeavored to obey but, in stepping back, his
heel caught on a root and he bent down on his back
and the lion landed fairly on top of him.  Bob's heart
seemed to leap into his throat as he saw his brother
go down, and, without an instant hesitation he sprang
forward.  Boy and beast were rolling over and over
on the ground first one on top and then the other.
He saw at first glance, that Jack had a hold on the
cat's neck with both hands and was keeping its jaws
away from his throat by main strength.  So fast were;
they moving that he did not dare to fire for fear of
hitting Jack, but he knew that he must do
something at once or the boy would be clawed to death
even though he succeeded in escaping the jaws.

With Bob to think was to act and it was probably
not more than ten seconds from the time the cat
jumped before he had a hold of his tail and was
pulling for all he was worth.  At the first tug the
big cat uttered an angry snarl and Bob shouted:

"Push him off."

But either Jack did not hear or he was afraid to let
go his hold for the pull did not budge the animal in
the least.  But it did stop the rolling and the beast,
as though wondering what had attacked him from
the rear, wrenched its head away and turned its eyes
on Bob who still was pulling on the tail.  With
another angry snarl it tore itself from Jack's body and
turned to attack its new enemy.  But Bob had a
grip of death on that tail and as the cat turned he
too spun around so that the cat's head was away
from him.  But he knew that is was only a question
of seconds when the mighty cat would wrench the
tail from his grasp in one of his lunges.  If only he
had his gun in one hand but he had slipped it into his
pocket when he had grabbed hold of the tail and he
did not dare reach for it.  His fingers seemed to be
getting numb so tightly did he have to cling and he
felt that they were slipping in spite of his strongest
efforts.

Then, just as he knew that the cat was winning
a shot rang out and the struggle was over.  Shot
through the head the cat fell over on one side, clawed
frantically for a moment and then was still.

"Some shot," Bob gasped.

"And some pussy cat," Jack added as he gazed at
the huge animal.

"Are you hurt?"

"Guess I got a few scratches but they don't amount
to much," Jack replied.

Suddenly, to Bob's amazement, Jack burst out
laughing.

"What's funny," he demanded.

"Honestly, Bob, if you could have seen yourself
dancing about holding on to that fellow's tail, you
wouldn't have to ask.  It was better than a circus
though I didn't think of it at the time."

"But your pants are torn to ribbons, boy.  Are you
sure you're not injured?"

Investigations showed that Jack's legs were
scratched in several places but the scratches were not
deep and, although a couple of them were bleeding
rather freely, he insisted that it was nothing.

"It's a lucky thing you had on heavy breeches or
you'd have been torn up for fair."

"I've heard of mountain lions but I never knew
they came that large," Jack declared.  "I'll bet he's
all of seven feet from his nose to the tip of his tail.
I'd sure like to have him stuffed."

"I thought a few minutes ago that he was going
to have you stuffed inside of him," Bob said with a
shudder.  "That sure was one close call.  Deliver me
from any more of them."

"The call or the lion?"

"Either or both," Bob assured him.

"Well, come on, we can't wait here all day," Jack
said.

"Think you're able to go on?"

"I know it.  Anyhow we can't give up now."

A few minutes later they reached the top of the
ridge and there they almost at once discovered signs
that told them that, instead of going down the other
side, Royce had turned to the right.

"Where do you suppose he's heading for?" Jack
asked.

"Search me.  All I know is he's on his way."

For some time their way led along the top of the
ridge and Bob had just glanced at his watch and was
about to tell Jack, who was a few feet ahead, that it
was four o'clock, when he turned and held up his
hand as a signal for silence.

"What is it?" he asked as soon as he had come up
to him.

"I think he's just ahead of us.  I saw a man a
minute ago just beyond that big tree."

"Only one?"

"That's all I saw.  Of course, there might have
been someone ahead of him."

"Think he saw you?"

"I'm sure he didn't."

"That's good.  Now to keep him in sight without
letting him know it."

They advanced now with extreme caution, stopping
every few minutes to listen and nearly every time
they could hear the cracking of brush or the rattle of
stones as their quarry pushed on in advance of them.
Now and then they caught sight of him and once Jack
was sure he saw two men.

"Seems to me we must be getting pretty near over
to The Crotch," Bob said in a low voice about half
an hour after they first saw Royce.

"Can't be very far from here.  But listen.  They've
turned off to the left."

A moment later they struck a narrow but well
defined path, which was remarkably smooth
considering the locality.

"I say, Bob, we never thought to give the signal
when we struck them," Jack said as they started
along the path.

"Well, what do you know about that.  Guess you'd
better give it now, but I have no idea any of them are
near enough to hear you."

Jack was an excellent imitator and the hoot hoot
which he gave utterance to was realistic enough to
deceive anyone.  They listened but no answer came.

"Well, I didn't expect any," Bob said as they
started on again.  "I doubt if they're within five
miles of here."

"Where do you suppose this path comes from?"
Jack asked.

"I wonder, but just now I'm more concerned about
where it goes to," Bob replied.

"It looks as though it was used a lot anyhow."

"It sure does but it's certain that no cattle have
been driven over it."

Although the trail was smooth it was very crooked
winding in and out among the trees and large rocks
and they had to proceed with great care for fear of
running into the men they were following for, of
course, they had no way of knowing when they might
stop for a rest.

Once they made a sharp turn in the trail and drew
back just in time to avoid discovery by Royce and
another man who were sitting on a log, apparently
resting.  They were talking in low tones as though
they feared someone might be following them, and
the boys, crouching in the bushes, were unable to
hear what they were saying.

"You don't think they saw us, do you, Bob?" Jack
whispered.

"No, but it kind of looks as though they thought
someone was on their trail they are talking so low."

"Probably they just get that way being hunted
most of the time as they are."

"Maybe."

It was about ten minutes later when they heard
the man, who was with Royce, say:

"Wall, I reckon we'd better be hikin'.  Red'll be
on tender hooks till we get thar."

"How much farther is it?" they heard Royce ask.

"Not more'n two miles," the man replied.

"The trail's getting warm," Bob whispered as they
started again as soon as they felt sure that they were
out of sight.

"They won't stop to rest again, I reckon," Jack said.

"No, but we want to be mighty careful and not
spill the beans now we're so close.  If we muss things
this time we may never get another chance."

"But I wish some of the boys were here.  Wonder
where they are."

"Goodness knows.  But I doubt if they're very near."

While talking they were stealing silently along the
narrow trail careful not to get too near but never
letting the men get entirely out of hearing.  They
had gone perhaps a mile when the trail ran into a
much wider one coming from the north and meeting
it at nearly right angles.

"They've driven cattle along here all right," Jack
declared as soon as he saw it."

"I'll say they have and, boy, we're on the way to
his cache sure as little green apples give small boys
the tummie ache," Bob declared.

"Looks like it and, from what that fellow said, it
can't be a great way off."

"I reckon it's near enough so that some of his
gang's apt to wander out this way most anytime."

"Meaning that from now on we want to be doubly
careful."

"Meaning exactly that."

"Careful's my middle name from now on," Jack
assured him.

"But what I can't make out is why we haven't
crossed the Crotch trail before this, Bob mused.

"But we've made so many turns that like as not
we've been going parallel with it a good part of the
time," Jack suggested.

"You must be right, I reckon," Bob agreed.

They were going down hill now in a direction, so
nearly as they could judge, away from the ranch.
Huge trees, growing so closely together that their
branches interlocked, lined both sides of the trail
which except for the large and small rocks which
were numerous, had been worn smooth by the passage
of many cattle.

"I'd sure like to know where this trail starts," Bob
declared a few minutes later.

"Well, the beginning of it must be mighty well
hidden wherever it is or someone would have picked
it up long before this.  It's plain enough along here,"
Jack declared.

Bob was about to say something when they heard
someone coming toward them.

"Quick, behind a tree," he ordered.

Two men were coming along the trail and, in another
minute, they would have met.  They were talking
loudly enough so that the boys had no trouble in
hearing them but, to their disappointment, they were
speaking Spanish.

"Did you get any of it?" Jack asked as soon as
they were out of hearing.

"Not very much but I heard one of them say something
about a girl and, while I'm not certain, I think
he was explaining to the other fellow that Hains
would probably keep the girl for awhile and try to
make some money out of her."

"You think he won't do as he agreed?"

"Why should he?  Honor means nothing to him."

"I suppose not.  I never did think much of this
'honor among thieves' stuff," Jack declared soberly.

"I was afraid of it.  He's got a bad eye, that
Hains," Bob said as he came out from behind the
tree.

"How about waiting till after dark before we get
any nearer?" Jack proposed.  "It looks as though
we've got to spend the night here in the woods anyhow
and we're apt to run into some of those fellows
any time now, and if they should catch us the fat
would be in the fire for sure."

"I reckon you're right and it won't be very long
to wait as it's beginning to thicken up a bit now.  Gee,
but some chow would go good about now."

"You said a mouthful but cheer up, we'll be
hungrier than this before we get a chance to eat I
reckon."

"You're a cheerful beggar," Bob grinned as he
looked about for a good place to wait.  "Let's get
over behind that clump of trees.  No one'll be apt
to see us there."

They were hardly settled when they heard the two
men coming back and they thanked their lucky stars,
as Jack put it, that they had not kept on the trail.
But they got no further information for the men did
not speak a word as they went past.  Slowly the
shadows deepened and soon the moon peeped over
the tree tops.

"She's going to be pretty near full tonight," Bob
declared as he rose to stretch his legs.

"Wonder if it'll be a help or a hindrance to us,"
Jack mused.

"Hard to tell that when we don't know what we're
going to be up against."

Another half hour passed and Bob again stood up.

"I reckon it's about as dark as it's going to get,"
he said.

"All right, let's go."

Keeping close together they walked slowly along
the trail stopping every few minutes to listen.  They
were still going down hill and in places the descent
was almost steep.  They had covered about two hundred
rods when they heard the murmur of voices.

"We're about there, I reckon," Bob whispered.

"It would seem so," Jack agreed.

"Suppose you stay here while I creep up and see
what I can find out," Bob suggested.

"Nothing doing," Jack promptly vetoed the
suggestion.  "We stick together tonight.  I can keep as
still as you can and if we once got separated goodness
knows what might happen."

"You're right.  We'd better keep together, but
we've got to be mighty careful.  He had me once
and it wasn't a pleasant experience let me tell you."

As they crept softly along the sound of the voices
became clearer and soon they knew that they were
only a few yards away.  It was a wild place with the
lofty hills, covered with the thick forest, rising on
all sides, making a sort of natural amphitheatre.
Regarding the size of the camp they could only guess
but they were sure it was not very large as there
seemed but little space between the hills.  They could
hear the men talking but, although they listened for
some time, they could only catch a word now and
then and were unable to get the drift of the
conversation.

"We've got to get nearer," Bob whispered softly.

"Think it's safe?" Jack asked.

"Nothing's safe here, but we must take a chance."

They had left the trail fifty feet back thinking it
safer to be in the thick woods where they could find
concealment behind the trees.  They could plainly
see the light from the big camp fire through the trees
although it did not light up the forest for any
distance and, moving foot by foot and feeling their way
with the utmost caution, they finally crouched behind
a large spruce not more than a dozen feet from the
clearing.  There were, however, several other trees
between them and the camp so that they could only
catch a glimpse now and then of the men as they
moved about.  But they did not dare to risk getting
nearer.  In a moment after they had gained their
position they heard a man speak and now they could
plainly hear what he was saying.  Both recognized
Hains' voice.

"So yer tried ter double cross me."

"Call it that if you like," Royce's voice replied.

"What else can yer call it?"

"Well, the kid licked me and I was helpless."

"Yer ought ter be shot for letting a kid like that
get the best of yer.  D'yer call yerself a man?"

"I do not, but not because of that."

"Wall, I reckon yer know what we do ter traiters,
don't yer?"

"I don't care what you do to me just so you let
the girl go," Royce replied shortly.

"But I ain't a goin' ter let her go, not till Stebbins
pays a good big ransom fer her."

"But you gave your word."

"An' I tuk it back.  Had my fingers crossed when
I made that bargain," the man sneered.

"Then you're a bigger scoundrel than I thought."

"Yer better keep a civil tongue in yer mouth or it'll
be the worse fer yer.  I'm boss here an' what I say
goes.  Yer ain't in no position ter call me any names
an' yer might git me mad an' when I git mad I'm a
holy terror let me tell yer.  But s'pose I give yer
another chance ter stay with us?"

For a moment Royce hesitated as though considering
the proposition and the boys strained their ears
to catch his answer.

"You mean it?" he finally asked.

"Mebby."

"I'll accept on condition that you let the girl go,"
Royce said quickly.

"Yer're in no position ter make conditions," Hains
snapped.  "I want a plain yes or no."

"Yes, then."

Had they been mistaken in Royce's loyalty?  It
seemed so and, for an instant Bob condemned him
bitterly, but the thought then struck him that it might
be he was playing a deeper game, and he decided that
he would withhold judgment until he was sure.

"All right, we'll consider yer' case an' let yer
know in the mornin', meanwhile yer're a prisoner an'
if yer try ter git away or anything yer'll get a hunk o'
lead an' no questions asked.  Git me?"

"I get you," Royce answered shortly.

Hains then called two of his men and the boys
heard him give them orders to guard Royce during
the night.

"An' if he gits away yer know what'll happen ter
yer," he concluded.

They could hear the two men leading Royce away,
and Bob wondered whether or not the man deserved
the fate that had overtaken him.  He wished that he
could get a better view of the place so as to be able
to make some plan but knew it would be too dangerous
to get any nearer while the men were moving
about.  Snatches of singing in a subdued tone reached
them from time to time, and they could tell by the
sounds that a number were playing cards close by
the fire.  How long would it be before they would
settle down for the night?  Bob wondered after an
hour had passed.

"It's about time to make a move, isn't it?"

Another hour had passed when Jack asked the
question.  They had crept back about fifty feet after
the first hour had passed and they had learned nothing
more, knowing that they would be safer and that
the time would pass quicker if they could talk to each
other.

"It's only ten o'clock," Bob replied after a glance
at his watch.  "I don't think we'd better do a thing
till after twelve, and goodness knows what we're
going to do then.'"

It was true they had been able to make no definite
plan as they knew so little regarding the situation.
That Sue was a prisoner was certain but as to
whether she was guarded or simply tied they could
only guess.  It was fairly certain that at least one
man would keep awake in order to be sure that
Royce did not get away.  They would take no chances
in that direction after Hains' threat.

"Gee, but it don't seem as though I could wait two
hours longer," Jack whispered.

"I know it's hard but I reckon we can stick it out
if it's best," Bob encouraged him.  "You know it's
better to play it as safe as we can as much more than
our own safety depends on us."

"You bet we'll do our best," Jack agreed.

By half past ten all was quiet about the camp save
for the gentle whinnie of a horse or the sound of
stamping hoofs as they moved about.  The fire was
dying down as they could now barely see it through
the trees, and about eleven the moon passed under
a cloud, drawing a pall of intense blackness over the
forest.  It was so dark that they could barely see
each other's form although they were sitting so close
together that their shoulders almost touched.

"Think it's lucky or unlucky about the moon?"
Jack asked.

"Can't tell a thing about it.  You see it may be a
big help to us and then, on the other hand, it may be
just the opposite.  If we only knew just where she is
I'd say it was a good thing but we don't and what I'm
afraid of is that it's going to be a hard job to locate
her now that we can't see anything."

"But if we can't see them it's some comfort to
know that they can't see us either."

"But we mustn't lose sight of the fact that they
have all the advantage in that they know where
they're at and we don't."

"That's so," Jack agreed.  "But it'll make it easier
to get away after we get her," he added hopefully.

"You said it," Bob encouraged him.

For another hour they waited, now talking in
whispers and then watching the sky hardly knowing
whether they hoped the moon would reappear or
stay hidden.  But it remained clouded over and there
was a feeling in the air accompanied by a soft
sighing of the trees which they knew indicated rain.

"It's twelve o'clock," Bob whispered.

"Then let's go."

"I wish, Jack, that you'd stay here and let me go
alone," Bob said anxiously.

"I thought we'd settled that question some time
ago.  We stick together tonight."

"But----"

"There are no more buts now than there were
then.  Come on, let's go."

Had it not been for Bob's keen sense of direction
they might have started in the wrong direction as
they had nothing else to guide them.  Even as it
was Bob was not quite sure that he was right until
he saw through the trees the dull glow of the dying
camp fire.  Foot by foot they crept on hardly daring
to draw a full breath and stopping every two or
three feet to listen.

Soon they could hear the deep breathing of sleeping
men and now and then a loud snore caused an
impatient movement on the part of some more silent
sleeper.  Presently they were on the edge of the
clearing and, although the embers of the fire were
barely glowing, they could distinguish, on the
opposite side, what seemed to be several good sized
tents.  So near as they were able to judge they were
some thirty feet away and Bob drew Jack back as he
whispered:

"We'll have to get around on the other side.  She's
probably in one of the tents.  You saw them, didn't
you?"

"I saw something that I thought might be tents
but it was too dark to be sure."

"They were tents all right," Bob assured him.

Very slowly and carefully they picked their way
foot by foot keeping as near the clearing as they
dared.  They knew that men accustomed to the life
which they led were usually light sleepers and that
even the breaking of a stick might be enough to give
the alarm.  The growth was very thick all about the
camp and, short as the distance was, it was after one
o'clock when they reached the side on which the
tents were pitched.

"Now our ears are about the only things we've
got to depend on," Bob whispered as he strained his
to catch the slightest sound.

"Lucky they're good ones," Jack whispered bade.
"What are we going to do now?"

"There's only one thing we can do so far's I can
see, and that is to get up close to the tents and listen.
We can't go prowling around promiscuously you
know."

"I know, but----"

"I'm in hopes that we can tell the difference
between her breathing and the others," Bob explained.

"If she's asleep."

"Here's hoping."

Inch by inch they edged nearer until they were
lying on the ground close behind one of the tents.  At
first they could hear nothing but after awhile the
faint, but deep breathing which betokens the sound
sleeper came to their ears.  Listening with ears
strained to the utmost Bob soon convinced himself
that there were several men in that tent and, hoping
that Hains had had the decency to at least give her a
tent by herself, he nudged Jack and they began to
squirm towards the next one which was only a few
feet away.

Here the results were the same.  There was no
doubt that the tent was filled with men and they
moved to the next.  They had just reached it when
a piercing shriek broke the stillness of the night.




CHAPTER XIII.

THE ROUND UP.

The shriek came from the tent directly in front of
them and for a second Bob's heart seemed to stop
beating.  That it was Sue there could be no doubt.
Jack started up but Bob caught him by the arm and
dragged him back.

"S-s--s-h," he whispered.  "Wait a minute."

"But----"

"Quiet."

Just then the sound of a man's voice, from around
in front of the tent was heard.

"What in Sam Hill's the matter wid yer?"

For a moment there was no reply then they heard
Sue's voice say:

"I guess I had the nightmare."

"What's the matter?"

This was Hains' voice and came from the tent
to their right.

"'S allright," they heard the man, who had spoken
first, reply, "Gal had a nightmare, that's all."

"She'd better not have 'em any more," they heard
Hains growl and then all was still again.

Bob gave Jack's arm a pull, a signal which he
understood, and they backed slowly into the forest
until they were thirty or more feet from the tent.

"We've found her at any rate," Jack whispered.

"But we haven't got her out yet, not by a long
shot."

"Long shot is right," Jack agreed.  "What's the
next move?"

"We've got to wait till everyone gets to sleep again
in the first place.  That yell must have woke them all
up."

"It was loud enough to wake the dead pretty near,"
Jack agreed.

"Looks as though they had posted a guard in front
of her tent," Bob suggested.

"No doubt of it.  Think we can get the jump on him?"

"Too risky."

"Then what?"

"Well, I'm not sure, of course, but it sounded to
me as though she was pretty close to the back of the
tent and I think our best bet is to get up as close as
we can and try to attract her attention.  She probably
won't go to sleep for some time after that scare and
we ought to make her hear without disturbing the
guard.  He's apt to be asleep anyhow, especially if
she's tied and I reckon there's not much doubt about
that."

"Good plan," Jack whispered enthusiastically.
"How soon can we try it?"

"I'd say in about a half hour."

The half hour passed after what seemed a long
time and Bob whispered that it was time to make the
attempt.

"But wait a minute," he ordered, and Jack knew
that he was breathing a prayer and his own heart
echoed the silent petition.  A few minutes more and
they were again lying close behind the tent.  A slight
but distinct sound soon convinced them that the girl
was not asleep but was moving as though to ease
her cramped limbs.

Raising the side of the tent a few inches Bob trust
his face beneath it and whispered faintly.

"Sue."

The moving stopped, but there was no answer.

"Sue," he whispered, this time a trifle louder.

"Who is it?"

The reply was so low that he barely caught the
words.

"It's Bob," he whispered back.

"Thank God!"

There was a volume of relief in the words and
both boys knew how great must have been her fear.

"Are you tied?" Bob asked.

"Yes."

"Both hands and feet?"

"Yes."

"Can you get your hands back close to the side of
the tent?"

"I'll try.  Wait a minute."

He got his knife ready and soon he felt her hands
as she pushed them behind her, and in another minute
they were free.

"Now hand me the knife and I'll free my feet," she
whispered with a deep sigh of relief.  "Wait a minute
till I get the circulation started and I'll be with you."

"What's the matter in thar?  Having another night
horse?"

The boys held their breath as they heard the guard
push aside the flap of the tent.  Were they to fail
just when success seemed assured?

"I-I guess not," they heard Sue say.

"Thought I heard you whisperin'."

"If your hands and feet were tied as tight as mine
I reckon you'd do more than whisper," she told him.

"It's too bad, but I don't dare do nuthin'."

"Reckon I can stand it," they heard her tell him.

"Reckon yer'll have ter."

The man went out and the boys could hear her sigh
of relief.  For some moments they waited not daring
to whisper again and then a slight movement from
inside the tent warned them that she was edging
closer to the wall of the tent.  Bob slipped the guy
rope from one of the pegs and, in another minute
she was on the outside.

Without even a whisper they crept noiselessly back
into the forest until they felt that they were safe.

"How'd you ever find me?" Sue whispered as she
leaned back against a tree.

In a few words Bob told her how they had stumbled
onto the trail and had followed Royce and the
other man to the cache.

"Is Royce here?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes, he's here."

"But I thought--" she began, but Bob interrupted
her.

"Just a minute and you'll understand."

"And you mean that he said he'd stay with that
gang?" she asked after he had told her about the
bargain Hains had made.

"That's what he said, but I honestly believe he
had a motive back of it.  You see, he probably
thought it was the only way he could help you."

"And you say they're holding him prisoner now?"

"Yes."

"Then we've got to rescue him."

"I wish we could but I'm afraid it's impossible,"
Bob told her sadly.

"Why is it?" she asked.

"Because two of the men are guarding him and
Hains threatened them if they let him get away."

"But when they find I've escaped they'll most likely
kill him," she insisted.

Neither of the boys had any answer to this and,
after a moment's wait she continued:

"Couldn't we do it the same as you did for me?"

"I don't see how," Jack spoke for the first time
since they had mentioned Royce.  "You see if they've
got him in one of the tents it's dead certain that he
isn't there alone and we couldn't make him know that
we're here without telling some of the gang at the
same time."

"Jack's right," Bob declared.  "I'd risk most
anything to get him out of their clutches but that
wouldn't be a risk, it'd be a dead sure thing."

"But it's awful when he gave himself up to save
me," Sue moaned.

"I know it is," Bob agreed, "but it seems to me the
best thing we can do for him is to get back as soon as
we can and bring the boys in here."

"But you'll never be able to find your way back
home in this darkness," she objected.

"Gracious, I never thought of that, and we're a
long way from home too," Bob sighed.

"And it would be worse than useless to try and
find our way back tonight," Jack added.

"Then what can we do?" Sue asked.

"I think we'd better get a little farther away from
here the first thing," Bob advised.  "You see that
fellow may miss you most any time and he'll raise the
camp when he does."

He had hardly spoken when they heard a shout
from the direction of the tent.

"The gal's gone," a man cried and a moment later
there was a perfect bedlam of shouts as they evidently
realized that someone must have helped her escape.

"Keep close together and make as little noise as
possible," Bob ordered as he sprang to his feet.

He had little idea in which direction he ought to
go, but his one thought was to avoid the trail and to
put much distance between them and the camp as
possible.  The moon was still hidden, although the
rain had held off, and they were obliged to go slowly
to avoid running into the trees.  From the sounds
behind them they knew that the outlaws were already
scattering to take up the search and Bob blamed
himself that they had waited so long.

Fifteen minutes passed and they could hear men
on both sides of them as they beat the woods and
several times flashes of light told them that some, at
least, of the outlaws had electric flashlights.  It was
only a question of time, Bob thought, when they
would be caught and he shuddered to think what
would become of them.  But he did not lose heart,
instead he urged the others to greater speed
although he knew that they were going about as fast
as was possible.

"Don't get separated whatever you do," he cautioned.

"You can't lose us," Sue panted close at his heels.

"'And Jack came tumbling after'," Jack added
cheerful even in the face of danger.

"Do you know which way we're going?" Sue
asked a few minutes later.

"I'm pretty certain that we're going in the
opposite direction from the ranch."

"Then perhaps we'd better turn off to the left,"
Jack suggested.

"Too risky," Bob advised.  "We'd be almost sure
to run into one of those fellows.  I think we'd better
keep on even if we are going away from the ranch."

"I think so too," Sue said and added: "We seem
to be distancing them."

Bob had begun to feel a bit easier as he had noticed
that the sounds made by their enemies were farther
off than when they had started and, for the first time
he really dared hope that they would get away.  Then
suddenly there was a crashing of underbrush just
to their right and, almost before they had time to
think, a beam of light struck Bob square in the face
and the form of Red Hains loomed up behind it.

"So it's you, eh?" he growled as he took a step
forward.

Bob afterward declared that had he stopped to
think he would never have dared attempt what he
did.  As the man stepped forward it happened that
the boy was standing on a bit of a knoll and, almost
without thinking, he lunged forward dashing his
fist with all his strength into the man's face.  The
action was so sudden and entirely unexpected that
the man had no time to protect himself and the blow
caught him fairly on the point of the chin.  He went
over backward without a sound save the crackling of
the brush as he struck the ground, the torch falling
from his hand as he fell.  The light was switched on
and Jack quickly sprang forward and grabbed it up.

"Get your gun on him, Bob," he cried.

Bob already had his automatic out but there was
no use for it.  Hains lay like one dead.

"A knock out clean's a whistle," Jack declared as
he bent over the man.

"What a peach of a punch," Sue gasped.

"Let's beat it before he wakes up," Bob advised.

"It's too bad we haven't got something to tie him
with," Jack declared.

"What's the matter with a handkerchief?" Sue
suggested.

"Better than nothing.  Roll him over, Jack, and
I'll tie his hands behind him.  I can do it so that
it'll take him a while to get free."

He worked quickly and in a few seconds the man's
hands were as securely bound as was possible under
the circumstances.

"Now gag him," Sue ordered.

This was done with Jack's handkerchief and they
again set off convinced that it would be some time
at least before he would be able to follow them.

"It's a lucky thing for us that he was alone," Jack
declared a few minutes later as they stopped to
listen.

No sound, save the rustle of the branches as they
swayed in the light breeze came to them and they
concluded that the men must have given up the
search.  They went on for another half hour, during
which time they heard no sound from their pursuers,
and Bob suggested that they stay where they were
until it began to get light.

"I think we'll be able to get our bearings as soon
as it is light and there's no use in getting any farther
away than we have to."

"Second the motion," Jack said throwing himself
on the ground.

"I don't believe it's going to rain after all," Bob
declared as he too sank down by his side.

"What time is it?" Sue asked.

"Half past two."

"Then it'll begin to lighten up in about an hour."

"I reckon," Jack agreed.

"Do you suppose there's any chance that Royce got
away in the confusion?" Sue asked.

"He might have," Bob replied, but in his heart
he doubted it greatly.  He had heard Hains when
he told the men to guard him and he knew that they
feared him.

They had been there about half an hour, at times
whispering and again dozing for a few minutes,
when Sue's quick ears caught a sound which
escaped the boys.

"Someone or something is coming this way," she
whispered.

"I didn't hear anything," Bob said as he drew
the revolver from his pocket resolved to take no
chances.

"Listen a minute and you will," Sue told him.

"I hear it," Jack declared just then.

"I'll bet it's Hains," Bob said as he got to his
feet.  "Let's keep perfectly still and maybe he'll go
by without spotting us."

It was soon evident that the man or animal was
coming directly toward them and soon Bob changed
his opinion as to its identity.  Hains would never
make so much noise in passing through the woods,
even if he was hunting no one.  This must be either
a stray steer or a man unused to the forest, for he
was making, as Jack whispered, more noise than
a train of cars.

Bob knew that he was only a few feet away when
he flashed the light, which Hains had dropped, and
at the same time ordered whoever it was to stop.

"Oh, it's he," Sue cried joyfully as she jumped
for the man.

"Royce, sure as guns," Jack added.

"Good boy."  Bob shoved the revolver back in
his pocket and then they were all trying to shake
hands with him at the same time.

"Now tell us all about it," Sue ordered when the
first greetings were over.

"But first tell us if you think they're after you,"
Bob said.  "Safety first, you know."

"I think they've given it up," he told them.  "They
almost had me a dozen times, but I managed to slip
them and I haven't heard a thing for the last half
hour."

"But how did you get away?" Sue demanded impatiently.

"Well, they had me tied, that is my hands were
tied behind my back, but I'm pretty good when it
comes to getting ropes loose, and I had very little
trouble in fixing it so that I could slip the knot any
time I wanted to."

"Didn't they tie your feet?" Sue asked as he
paused.

"No, I guess they thought I wouldn't go very far
with my hands tied, and with two men standing
guard over me.  Well, I was in a tent with four or
five of them and was sound asleep when someone
shouted that you had got away.  Maybe I wasn't
glad.  The men all jumped up and rushed out of
the tent, all but one, and as soon as they were gone
I jumped him.  It was darker'n pitch in the tent
and I don't know where I hit him, but it must have
been in a pretty good place, because he dropped like
a log and I beat it.  He must have come to pretty
soon, though, for they were after me in almost no
time and how I ever got away I don't know."

"Did you know that we were following you?" Bob
asked.

"I didn't till we were almost to the camp.  Then
I looked back just as we made a sharp turn in the
trail and saw you.  Then I knew that you were
watching while Hains was talking to me there because
I saw that bush move.  I 'spect you thought I'd
turned yellow again, but I figured it was the only
way I'd stand even a chance to help her."

"Just what I thought," Bob assured him.

"Do you know where we are?" Royce asked.

"No, haven't an idea, but I think we can find the
way out as soon as it gets light," Bob told him.

"Well, if you take my advice we'll keep going
right now.  They'll be after us again as soon as day
breaks."

"All right, come on.  It'll begin to get light most
any time now, but be careful and don't get separated,"
Bob cautioned as he started off.

The first hint of the coming dawn stole over the
forest soon after they set out and it was not long
before they were able to see for several feet ahead.

"That's East over there," Bob pointed as he
stopped and he looked about him, "and that's the way
we want to go, but it'll take us right back toward
that camp."

"Then I guess we'll have to make a wide circle,"
Jack said.

"And you're guessing just about right," Bob
assured him.

"Do you have any idea as to how far we are from
the foot of the hills?" Royce asked.

"Not much, but it's a long way all right, especially
on an empty stomach," Bob answered.

"Empty stomach," Jack echoed.  "Gee, I could
eat raw sidewinder and think it was a fried trout."

"It's too bad," Sue consoled them.  "I had some
supper last night, so I'm not quite starved, but you
must be empty clear down to your toes."

While they had been talking they had been pushing
their way toward the South, making as good
time as possible.  Another hour and the sun was up
over the tops of the trees and it began to warm up,
although the night had not been cold.  Bob had
nothing but the sun to guide him, but he was an expert
when it came to finding his way through the trackless
forest and he had little fear of not being able
to find his way out provided their strength held out.
That was his main source for worry now.  Tramping
through the dense woods when one has not eaten
for twenty-four hours is no joke and he was
beginning to feel a bit weak and he knew that Jack
was no stronger than he.

He was leading the way some feet in advance of
the others when, suddenly, he drew his revolver
and fired.

"Here's some breakfast for us," he cried as he
plunged forward and picked up a large rabbit "It'll
be a bit flat without salt, but it'll give us strength,"
he told them.

Fortunately he had a box of matches and they
were not long in finding a good place for a fire close
by a small stream.  There was plenty of dead wood
about and while Bob dressed the animal Jack started
the fire going and in less than fifteen minutes the
rabbit was roasting.

"Wish I had a hook and line," Jack said as he
felt through his pockets.  "I'll bet there are trout
in that brook."

But none of them had so much as a pin and they
were forced to give up their hope of trout.

"I suppose it's pretty risky building a fire, but
without it I don't believe we'd have strength enough
to get out," Bob said as he turned the rabbit.

The meal was, as Bob had predicted, somewhat
flat, but there is nothing like real hunger to make a
meal taste right and there was not a trace of
anything but the bones left when they had finished.

"Never cared much for rabbit before but that
certainly did hit the right spot," Jack declared.

"Now we want to make as good time as we can,"
Bob said as they were ready to start once more.  "It's
more than likely that they've seen the smoke from
our fire and are on our trail."

Much strengthened by the meal they set out with
renewed courage and, stopping only when if was
necessary for a breathing spell, they kept on hour
after hour.  Bob was afraid that Sue would not be
able to keep up the pace but, to his surprise, she
seemed absolutely tireless and often urged them to
greater speed.  If was shortly after noon when they
came to a trail, and halted for a rest.

"Why, this is the trail to The Owl's Head," Sue
declared as they were about to start again.

"Are you sure?" Bob asked.

"Sure is right.  See that big tree right there?
Well you look on the other side of it and you'll find
my initials, S.B., cut in the bark about four feet
from the ground."

"Right you are," Jack announced a moment later.
"It's S.B. all right."

"Then you ought to know about how far we are
from the edge of the woods," Bob said.

"It's about three miles from here to the foot of
the hills," she told them.

"That's good news," Bob assured her.  "I really
didn't think we were so near out."

"An' yer not quite as near as yer think."

They all jumped at the sound of the voice which
came from a thicket a little to their right, and their
hearts sank as six men, headed by Red Hains,
stepped out into the trail.  Every man carried a
revolver in his hand and Bob realized at once that
resistance would be useless.

"It'll be some time afore yer out o' the woods, I
reckon," Hains sneered.

"Perhaps not so long as you think."

The last words came from the other side of the
trail and Sue's heart leaped for joy as she recognized
her father's voice.

"We've got ever one of you covered and the first
man that makes a move will never make another."

As he spoke, Jeb, followed by nearly all the men on
the Lazy S., stepped out from the bushes and at least
one gun covered each of the outlaws.

"Frisk 'em, Slim," Jeb ordered after he had told
them to throw their guns on the ground.

The surprise was complete and the outlaws made
no resistance.

"My baby!"  There were tears in Jeb's eyes as
he took Sue in his arms, and Bob noticed that his
eyes were not the only wet ones.

The stories were soon told and more tears rolled
down Jeb's cheeks as he grasped the boys by the
hand.  Royce, too, came in for his full share of
praise and it was a happy crowd that, shortly after,
started down the trail.

They found the horses at the foot of the hills and
the boys, together with Jeb, Sue and Royce, set off
at once for the ranch, leaving the rest to bring in
the captured gang.

Charlie had a big meal ready for them almost as
soon as they arrived, and how they did eat.

"But it's got nothing on that rabbit," Jack declared
as he passed his plate for his third helping of chicken.




CHAPTER XIV.

CONCLUSION.

They had been sitting on the porch after the meal
for some two hours talking over the last adventure,
which had resulted so happily, when Sue cried:

"Here they come."

The boys, headed by Slats and Slim, were just
turning in at the gate and a few minutes later they
had herded the gang of outlaws in front of the porch.
They were a sullen and dejected looking lot, all
except Red Hains, whose face still bore a defiant air.

"What'll we do with these birds, Jeb?" Slats called
out.

"Give 'em a necktie party," one of the boys called
out.

"That's what," another agreed.

"No, we won't do that," Jeb declared as he
stepped off the porch.  "They deserve it no doubt,
that is to say, some of them do, but it's for the law
to decide, not us.  I've phoned to town and the
sheriff'll be out here with some of his men as soon's
he can make it.  Ought to be in an hour or so.  So
you'd better take them down to the corral and let
two or three of the boys stand guard over them.
But play it safe."

"Yer'er a shoutin' we'll play it safe," Slats
assured him.  "Right about face.  Now hep up thar
an' no turnin' of eyes," he ordered the prisoners.

As they turned away Bob glanced at his brother
with a questioning look in his eyes.  He was not
quite sure but he fancied that he had detected a look
of satisfaction flash over the face of Red Hains
when Jeb announced that the sheriff would soon be
there, and he wondered if Jack had noticed it.

Jack looked puzzled as though he was uncertain
what Bob was trying to ask and the latter shook
his head slightly as if to say that it did not matter.
But it so happened that, a few minutes later, they
were alone on the porch and he was quick to ask:

"What did you mean, Bob?"

"Did you see Red's face when Jeb said that Skeets
would be out soon?"

"No, why?"

"Maybe it was my imagination, but I fancied
he seemed mighty pleased at the idea, and I
wondered if you noticed it."

"Sorry, but I must have been looking somewhere
else."

"Probably if doesn't matter but----"

"You mean----?"

"Well, you know Jeb's opinion regarding the
sheriff."

"Sure, and you think that Red thinks that he'll
give them a chance to get away."

"Something like that."

"Then we'd better speak to Jeb about it, don't you
think?"

"I suppose so, but I don't know as it'll do any
good.  There's nothing definite against him, you
know."

"And I reckon it's too late now anyhow, for there
he comes if I'm not mistaken," Jack said pointing
toward the gate.

Six horsemen were riding in through the gate and,
as they swept up in front of the porch, Jeb came
out through the door.

"Skeets isn't with them," Jack had whispered to
Bob just before the men drew their horses to a halt.

"Hello, boys.  Where's Skeets?" Jeb greeted them.

A tall lanky man with a fierce looking black
mustache acted as spokesman.

"That prutty hard ter say right now.  Yer see
Skeets he resigned his job's soon's he got yer
telephone message an' the last seen o' him he was makin'
tracks for the railroad station."

"You mean he's gone?" Jeb asked.

"I reckon."

"Then I guess there's not much doubt but that he
was in cahoots with Red."

"That's how we figger it."

"Then who's sheriff?"

"I reckon I'm it fer the time bein' seein' how I was
first deputy."

"And I don't know of a man I'd rather see have
the job," Jeb declared as he held out his hand.

"You said something," one of the man declared.

"They don't make 'em better'n Jake Grubb,"
another added.

The new sheriff seemed much embarrassed at those
eulogies and muttered about the job being pushed on
to him, then, turning to Jeb, he said:

"I reckon you know thar's a reward o' $2,000 fer
the capture o' Red Hains."

"Sure, I know it," Jeb replied.

"Well, who gits it?"

"Bob and Jack Lakewood," a voice sang out from
behind them.

It was Slats Magee who made the statement.  He
had come up from the corral and had heard the
sheriff ask the question.

"Not much," Bob spoke up quickly.  "We didn't
catch him."

"Who did then?" Slats demanded.

"I guess you had as much to do with if as anyone,"
Bob laughed.

"Wal, it goes ter some o' yer crowd," the sheriff
said to Jeb.  "I reckon yer can fight that out among
yerselves.  I've got ter get a hustle on if I'm goin'
ter git that gang in the jail afore dark.  Come on,
boys, let's go."

Bob knew, a few moments later, when the outlaws
were led out of the corral, that he had been right.  If
ever a man's face expressed despair it was Red
Hains' when he found that Skeets was not with the
men who had come to take them to the jail.

"He was counting on Skeets to let him get away
all right," he told Jack after they had gone.

"Now about that reward," Slats said as they stood
by the corral gate.

"It goes to you fellows," Bob told him in a decided
tone.

"Not so you'd notice if," Slim declared and his
statement was applauded by all the hands including
Jeb and Sue.  "Yer see, if it hadn't been fer you two
boys we'd never have got 'em," Slim explained.

"But we didn't catch them: they caught us," Bob
insisted.  Then, seeing that they were determined, he
said: "I'll tell you what we'll do.  We'll take the
money and get the best radio outfit we can buy for
the ranch and what's left over will be used as a fund
for us all, to get anything that we all can enjoy.  All
in favor say aye."

After a little hesitation and talking among themselves
it was decided to do as Bob had suggested and
he was appointed a committee of one to purchase the
outfit.

"They're a great bunch of fellows," Bob whispered
to Jack as they walked back to the house.

"The best ever," Jack agreed.

They learned the next day that the outlaws were
lodged safely in jail and the entire district for miles
around breathed easier.



THE END.











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