CHAPTER IX.
READY TO ACT.
The cattle had apparently quieted down, now that they were no longerpestered with the shouts of the galloping punchers, coupled with thesnap of the cruel quirts. They had run far enough to be in a sweat, andwere doubtless glad of the chance to lie down in the coulie, to find therest they craved. Outside of an occasional "boo," or possibly a crash ofhorns, there could be heard nothing that would indicate the presencenear by of a pretty large bunch of steers.
That ravine would afford the finest sort of a corral, with its narrowneck, in which the fire had been built, around which the tired rustlerswere now grouped, taking things easy, and filled with exultation nodoubt because of their fine success in running off the herd without asingle shot having been fired, because Mr. Comstock dared not giveorders for his men to pursue, with that virago under his roof holdinghim in check.
After a bit the boys dropped down on all fours, and started to crawlalong, since in the bright moonlight it was growing risky to standerect. Billie had some difficulty in flattening himself as much as hethought necessary; indeed, it seemed to his excited fancy that he mustbe towering there in a most discouraging way; and he feared that one ofthe others in glancing back would notice it, and tell him he mustdiminish his size or else drop out.
But as the ground was broken, and growing rougher every rod or so,neither Donald nor Adrian thought anything of this; and Billie wascertainly making a good job of his "creep," they could see, all thingsconsidered.
Of course the two would have preferred attempting the business bythemselves; but they knew that the fat chum would object to being leftout, and in fact absolutely refuse to play so unimportant a part in theproceedings.
And if it did come to a showing of hands they might be glad to have athird member of the party along, so as to overawe the foe by sheer forceof numbers. Besides, Billie carried a rifle, and knew how to use it too;he had demonstrated that fact to the satisfaction of his chums more thanonce; so that he could not be wholly ignored on such grounds.
They were by now close enough to the fire to be able to see the figuresaround the blaze. Of course it was only natural for Donald to giveAdrian a sly punch in the side, and putting his lips close to theother's ear whisper triumphantly the one word:
"Four!"
And Adrian on his part understood, for he must surely remember that theother had taken the pains to declare it to be his opinion that therustler crowd could not number more than that many.
Still four husky men would seem like a pretty steep proposition forthree half-grown boys to attempt to subdue; and such indeed would havebeen the case had it been the intention of Adrian and his chums toboldly face the rustlers, and put the decision to a test of sheermuscle, or the ability to shoot straight.
But Donald and his comrades believed they knew a way whereby the oddswere apt to turn in their favor. Strategy must take the place of bruteforce. They would remain there in hiding until it was to be seen howthings were going to turn; and if the rustlers either drank heavily, orelse allowed sleep to overpower them.
In either case the plan of the boys was to creep noiselessly into theircamp, and in some way overpower them. Perhaps they could impress it uponthe minds of the astounded cattle thieves, when the critical momentcame, that the bushes near by were fairly bristling with guns held inthe hands of angry punchers; who would open fire, and riddle them likesieves, unless they held up their hands and yielded themselves prisoner.
Once this was accomplished neither Donald nor Adrian had any fear butwhat they would be able to manage things. They knew all about drivingcattle; and before leaving the desperadoes they could disarm them, thusrendering them harmless, so far as doing any immediate injury wasconcerned.
That this would only be the beginning of the war they could easilyguess. If the Walkers were as strongly entrenched as people said, theywould not be apt to give over their evil practices just because threeboys had come up from the Southwest, no matter if one of them did happento be the owner of the Bar-S Ranch, which for a year and more past theyhad been systematically despoiling, because the hands of the unfortunatemanager were tied by his domestic difficulties.
Such resolute lads as these, however, were not apt to hold back oncethey had embarked on a course, simply because there might be troubleahead. Both Adrian and Donald believed in meeting difficulties as theycame along, and trying to master them. They saw their duty, and tried todo it, regardless of what might follow.
And Billie was one of the kind to say "me too," whenever the strongernatures with which his fortunes were connected took a decided stand.
Having finally advanced, as far as seemed wise, the three boys lay thereand tried to figure out what was going on by the fire.
One of the rustlers must have been something like Billie, and always hadhis appetite on tap, for he seemed to be busily engaged in cookingsomething in the way of meat.
It chanced that the night air was setting toward them, a fact Donald hadnoticed with more or less satisfaction, since it lessened the chances ofany slight sound that one of them might make being heard.
This current of air brought the odor of cooking to their nostrils, andBillie was heard to give several vigorous sniffs that called for awarning kick on the part of Donald, just ahead of the fat boy; whereuponBillie subsided, shaking his head as though he thought it pretty hardlines when a fellow had to lie there, taking in all that deliciousfragrance, and not getting even a single bite of the fare.
When it was seen that the other three rustlers were passing a suspiciousblack bottle around, and taking frequent potations, the boys began tohave strong hopes that things might be made easy for them after all;because they knew that when alcohol once gets a firm grip on a man'sbrain he is hardly apt to bother himself about what is taking placearound him until the effect of his potations wears away.
If only those three men would be so accommodating as to stupefythemselves in quick order, while thus celebrating their successful raid,Donald thought they surely could manage to get the upper hand of theremaining fellow. By that time perhaps he might have eaten so muchcooked meat as to be drowsy, and fall a victim almost as easily as theother three.
The minutes passed, and nothing occurred by that fire unnoticed by thesharp eyes of the trio of hidden lads. Billie was forever poking up hishead to look, and then quickly drawing it down again in sudden alarmbecause he fancied he saw one of the rustlers staring in his direction.But of course that was pure imagination, because they lay far away andamong the shadows of the trees, so that even the keenest vision possiblewas not apt to discover their hiding-place.
After half an hour of this sort of thing Billie felt like hugginghimself, for he saw the three fellows who had been drinking so heavilygiving positive signs of wanting to roll over and go to sleep. Billiewould have liked ever so much to communicate his feeling of satisfactionto one of his companions, because it was always a punishment for him tobe kept from talking in some fashion; but whenever he gave the leastsign of wanting to whisper Donald would give him a cruel kick, and inthis way warn him that silence was golden just then. So the poor fellowhad to take it out in telling himself what he thought, and how he hopednow they could soon be making a move looking to the capture of therustler gang.
Two of the punchers seemed to have succumbed. They lay there just asthey had fallen over, and were oblivious to all that was going on.
The third man, who seemed to be something of a leader among them,probably realizing that his own condition was not all that it should be,was shaking his finger in front of the face of the fellow who was stilleating, as though giving him to understand that the safety of the campwas going to depend on him.
Billie hoped that he too would lie down and go to sleep. Unless a movetook place very soon now he feared that it would be too late for him toget even a bite of that cooked meat which had been tantalizing him forsome time; because there did not seem to be any end to that horribleglutton's appetite; and there was only one more piece left righ
t then.
Still, he realized that his chums were not likely to hurry things justto oblige his desire, when they might be running unnecessary risks in sodoing. Patience was something Billie had to cultivate; he told himselfthat a dozen times, and in spite of it was just as eagerly watching themotions of that perpetual eater by the fire as before, still hoping forthe best.
He knew that the other two boys were whispering together, and hoped itmight be with regard to making an advance. True, the time that must beconsumed in this movement would like as not enable that greedy fellow tomake away with the very last piece of cooked meat; but at any rate itwould be some satisfaction to be able to jump on him, and give him thescare of his life. If he could not secure the plunder he would take itout some other way; for Billie seemed to have cultivated a most unusualdislike to that particular fellow.
Yes, Donald was twisting his head around right now, and beckoning withhis hand, which must surely mean that they were going to raid the camp.
Billie felt a thrill of excitement pass through him. He imagined thatthis was the fighting spirit that some of his ancestors had shown onbattlefields both during the Revolution and the Civil War. He hoped thatthe Winkle honor was safe in his hands, and that he would not turn outto have coward blood in his veins, for he was very proud of his family.
The three boys crept along, gradually closing in on the fire that stillburned cheerily. But Billie shut his teeth hard whenever he looked upand discovered that the sentry was still munching steadily away. Hebelieved that if the supply only held out the man would be able to sitthere for hours and hours, constantly decreasing the visible supply ofprovisions. But thank goodness! his time had almost come. The "Avengers"were on the track, Billie told himself, and that terrible appetite ofhis was fated to be soon cut short.
Creeping along in this fashion the three boys found themselves closebehind the sentry who was paying far more attention to his task offinishing up the meat he had cooked than he was to guarding the camp.
Finally Donald arose to his feet, still crouching, and gave the signal.
The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Page 9
