The Border Boys on the Trail

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER V.

  THE RUSTLERS AT WORK.

  "Jack!"

  "Um-um-um-huh!" from Jack Merrill, as he turned over in his cot.

  "Listen! There it is again---- What is it?"

  Ralph Stetson sat bolt upright in bed, listening with all his might tothe strange and shivery sound which had awakened him. It was shortlyafter midnight, following the evening of the boys' arrival, and bothwere sleeping--or rather had been sleeping--in a room set aside forthem in one wing of the low, straggly ranch house in the foothills ofthe Sierra de la Hacheta.

  "Wow-wow-wow!" came the cry once more from somewhere among the dreary,moonlit hills outside.

  "Oh, that!" said the ranch-raised boy, with a laugh. "That's coyotes!"

  "Oh," rejoined Ralph wisely. "Coyotes, eh?" But he did not lie downagain. Instead, he listened more intently than before. Presently cameanother howl from some distance off.

  "They're conversational beasts, aren't they?" inquired Ralph.

  "What do you mean?" sleepily muttered Jack.

  "Why, some friend of the one I just heard is answering him. Hark!"

  Jack Merrill became suddenly interested as he heard the second howl.His eyes grew round as he listened intently, and he, too, sat up in hisbed.

  "Say," he remarked, "that _is_ funny. And hark! there's anotherone--off there to the south."

  "What do you suppose they are up to?"

  "I've no idea, but I tell you what--if you like, we'll take the rifleand sneak out and see. What do you say?"

  "Um--well, it's a bit chilly to go coyote hunting, but I should like toget one. Professor Wintergreen said at supper last night that he wouldlike to have the hide of one of the beasts for his collection. Let'sgo!"

  "All right. Just slip on a few clothes. The magazine of my rifle'sfull. Don't make a racket getting out of the house, though. I don'tjust know how dad would take it."

  "But he'll hear the rifle if we shoot one."

  "That's so; but it will be too late then."

  Silently as cats, the two boys got out of bed and dressed, an operationwhich was performed by slipping on trousers, shirts and boots overtheir pajamas. Then, with their sombrero hats on, they were ready tocreep outside. The moon had been up for an hour, and was shining downin a radiant flood, illuminating the heaving surface of the foothillsas if they had been a silver sea.

  "Which way will we go?" whispered Ralph, as they stole along in thedark shadow of the low timber house like two culprits.

  "Over there. Down toward the corral. The chicken house is down there,and those four-footed thieves are fond of chicken _au naturel_."

  Taking advantage of every bit of shadow that offered, the two ladscrept toward the corral, a big inclosure about half an acre in extent,in the center of which stood a fenced haystack. The horses of theranch were generally turned loose in it to browse about at their will.Usually not more than enough for the use of the ranch-house family werekept there, the rest being driven in from the "remuda" as required.

  "Say, it's silent, isn't it?" whispered Ralph, as they crawled alongbehind a big stack of wild-oat hay.

  "Well, you didn't expect to find a roaring city in the heart of thefoothills of the Hachetas, did you?" inquired Jack, with vast sarcasm."Hush! Now I think I saw something!"

  "Where?"

  "Off there to the south. It was slipping along among the hills. There,there it is again!"

  Ralph strained his eyes into the darkness, but could see nothing of theobject Jack had indicated. It had gone as utterly as if it had not beenthere.

  Suddenly the wild howls that had awakened Ralph broke out once more.This time they came quite close at hand, and neither boy could repressa start at the sound. It gave an impression of an outburst of demoniacmirth.

  "Wow! ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!"

  The cry was immediately echoed from the direction in which Jack haddeclared he had seen a gray shadow flitting in and out. The nextinstant both boys gave an involuntary shout of surprise, which theyhastily checked, realizing that they were face to face with a sternnecessity for silence.

  Outlined as clearly against the moonlight as if it had been cut fromblack paper, the _figure of a horseman_ had momentarily appeared, andthen as abruptly vanished.

  At the same instant there came a wild disturbance of hoofs in thecorral, and before the boys' astonished eyes four more horsemen dashedfrom it and swept off toward the south. Behind them there trailedhalf a dozen of the animals which had been feeding or sleeping in thecorral. To the neck of each was attached a lariat, and they followedtheir captors at breakneck speed.

  "Horse thieves!" shouted Jack, springing to his feet and giving thealarm by firing a volley of bullets after the retreating rustlers.

  Instantly the sleeping ranch galvanized into active life. Lightsflashed here and there, and from the bunkhouse on a hillside below themain house there poured a strangely assorted score of hastily arousedcowboys. Some of them were trouserless, but all carried their revolvers.

  "What's the matter? What is it?" shouted Mr. Merrill's voice.

  "Dad, it's horse thieves!" shouted Jack.

  "Some of Black Ramon's bunch, for a bet!" roared Bud Wilson, emergingwith a lantern and vaulting into the corral.

  "Oh, the dirty scoundrels!" he broke out the next instant.

  "What is it? What have they done, Bud?" cried Jack, who realized fromthe usually impassive vaquero's tone that something very much was amiss.

  "Why, they've taken the pick of the bunch! Look here, Firewater's gone,my calico, and----"

  "But they've left some horses. Quick! Let's get after them. We canovertake them!" urged Mr. Merrill, who had hastily thrown on someclothes, and, followed by the professor, was now down at the corral.

  "We can't," wailed Bud; "the precious rascals have hamstrung all thehorses they didn't want."

  A chorus of furious voices broke out at this. Black Ramon, if itwere he or his band that had made the midnight raid, had planned itcleverly. It would be hours before fresh horses could be rounded upfrom the "remuda," and the poor animals remaining had been crippledfatally. Few minds but that of a Mexican could have conceived of sucha fiendish act. The unfortunate animals, uncomplainingly, as is themanner of horses, were lying about the corral, looking up at the menabout with mute agony in their large eyes.

  "Oh, blazes! if I could get my hands on that greaser!" roared BudWilson.

  "Steady now, Bud, steady!" said Mr. Merrill, though his own frametrembled with rage at the needless brutality of the raiders. "Hardwords will do no good now."

  "Let's keep quiet a minute. Maybe we can hear the clatter of theirhoofs," said one of the cowboys, a young chap who had come to theranch from a peaceful California range not long before.

  "Not much chance of that," said Bud Wilson bitterly. "Those chaps hadthe hoofs of their own mounts and the ones they stole all muffled--youcan bet your Sunday sombrero on that."

  "That's why they made so little noise when they led them off," saidRalph. But in the general agitation no one paid any attention to him.

  Everybody was rushing about asking questions, giving orders, hasteningthis way and that with lanterns. Even the Chinese cook was out with afrying pan in his hand, seemingly under the impression that it was upto him to cook something.

  It was Mr. Merrill who first found his head.

  "Silence!" he cried in a stern, ringing voice. "You, Bud, select twomen and put these poor brutes here out of their pain."

  "If it's all the same to you, boss, will you give that job to some oneelse?" said Bud, with a queer little break in his voice. "I've rodesome of them plugs."

  "All right, then. Your job will be to round up a dozen of the best nagsyou can find from the Escadillo pasture. Get a bite to eat, take twomen with you, and start right now. Don't lose a minute."

  Bud Wilson hastened off. He didn't want to be near the corral when theshots that told that the ham-strung beasts were being put out of theirmisery were heard.

  "What are they going to do?" wh
ispered Ralph, as two cowboys finallyclimbed into the corral with their revolvers drawn.

  "Kill those poor brutes. It's the only thing to do with a hamstrunghorse," said Jack bitterly, turning away.

  Ralph, having no more wish than his friend to see the final chapter ofthe raiders' visit, followed him. As they turned they almost ran intothe professor.

  The estimable scientist, in his agitation, had just thrown asidea valuable book, and held tightly to a piece of straw, under theimpression that he had thrown away the straw and kept the book. Jackpicked up the volume and handed it to the professor. To his surprise,however, the man of science waved the book aside, and the boys couldsee in the moonlight that a new light, foreign entirely to their usualmild radiance, beamed in his eyes.

  "No, no!" he said in a sharp voice, one which the boys had never heardhim use before. "No books now. What I want is a rifle and a horse. Inever knew I was a man of blood till this moment, but--but I'm hangedif I wouldn't like a shot at those--ahem--I believe they are calledgreasers, and a good name for the rascals!"

  "Good for you, professor!" exclaimed Jack; "and if we have our way,you'll get your chance before long. We're going to take the trail afterthose rascals as soon as Bud and the others get the horses."

  "Oh, Jack, are we to go?" gasped Ralph.

  "Well, if we don't, something's going to drop!" said Jack in adetermined tone. "They've taken my little Firewater, and I've gotsomething to say to them on my own account."

  "Say," exclaimed Ralph suddenly, as the professor and the boyshastened toward the house, "I want to take back something I saidyesterday."

  "What's that?"

  "That there are no adventures left in the modern West."

  Jack, even in the midst of his agitation, could not help laughing atRalph's earnest tone.

  "I wonder what they'd think at Stonefell if they could see us now,"he mused. Suddenly he pointed toward the professor, who was angrilyshaking a fist at the Southern sky, where the saw-like outline of theHachetas cut the moonlit horizon.

  "And what would his Latin class say if they could see him?"

  "That he was all right!" rejoined Ralph, with deep conviction.

  Inside the great living room of the ranch house, with its brightlycolored rugs on the dark wood floor and walls, and a blaze leaping inits big open hearth, for the night was chilly, the Chinese cook wasalready setting out a meal, when the boys entered. Mr. Merrill, hisbrow furrowed with deep thought, was walking up and down. He looked upas his son and Ralph entered, and spoke quickly.

  "You boys had better remain at the ranch," he said. "We are not likelyto be gone long and----"

  He stopped short. The blank faces of the two lads had caused him tobreak into a broad smile despite the seriousness of his mood.

  "Why, why," he said amusedly, "surely you didn't expect to come along?"

  "Why, dad, of course. They've taken my Firewater, the rascals, and I'vegot a personal interest in the thing."

  "And I, sir," began Ralph, "I am out here for experience, you know."

  "Well, you certainly seem to be getting it. I am half inclined to allowyou to come. I must attach one condition to it, however, and that isthat you obey orders implicitly, and if any danger arises that you willdo your best to conceal yourselves from it."

  "What, run away--oh, dad!" began Jack, but his father cut him short.

  "Accept my conditions or stay here, Jack."

  "Very well, then, dad, we accept--eh, Ralph?"

  The Eastern boy nodded. Not for the world would he have missed what wasto come. And now the professor spoke up.

  "Mr. Merrill, sir, I shall take it as a favor if you will providea horse for me. In my young days I was not unaccustomed to equinepursuits, and I feel that I should make one of your party. I couldwish, sir, to be in at the--the finish--if I may say so--of thoseruffians."

  "There is small likelihood of our catching them, professor," said Mr.Merrill, smiling at the other's excitement. "They have a long start. Iam afraid you would only have a long, tiring ride for your pains."

  "I am willing to chance it," said the professor simply. "I feel, infact, that such a dash across the er--er, Rubicon would be classic,sir, classic, if nothing else."

  "That being the case," said Mr. Merrill, checking his amusement, inview of the professor's evident earnestness, "you shall certainly come.But now breakfast, or supper, or whatever one may call the meal, seemsto be ready. Let us sit down and eat, for we have a long ride ahead ofus."

  During the meal Mr. Merrill was plied with questions by the eager boys.In fact, so numerous did the queries become, that he was relieved atlast when a diversion offered in the shape of a clattering of hoofsoutside the door.

  "Rap!" came at the portal.

  "Ah, the horses at last!" exclaimed Mr. Merrill, eagerly rising to hisfeet, and betraying by his haste how anxious he was to be off, despitehis assumed indifference.

  "Come in!" he called in answer to the rap.

  The boys looked expectantly confident of seeing the familiar featuresof Bud Wilson.

  To their astonishment, however, the newcomer was a total stranger. Asmall, swarthy Mexican. He wore bear-skin chapareros, and seemed tohave ridden far and hard. At the sight of him they all sprang to theirfeet, so complete was their surprise at the unexpected nationality oftheir visitor.