CHAPTER X.
CLEVER WORK.
Donald had brought his lariat along, under the belief that it might comein handy one way or another. As he thus stood up, just a little way backof the sentry who was sitting there, he had this rope in his hands,Adrian holding both rifles meanwhile.
Billie saw this and drew a long breath, while his glittering eyes werefixed upon the man with the enormous appetite. It was just as though hemight be saying bitterly to himself; "now see what you get for hoggingit all; and serve you just about right, too!"
Donald was a clever hand with the lariat. He had learned all theordinary cow-puncher tricks in making use of a rope; and oftenbewildered Billie with some of his astonishing throws, back-handed, sideways, and with the queer little jerking movement that adepts can make toserve their purpose without coiling the lariat again.
This was as easy a job as ever came his way; and indeed, Billie himselfwould have thought it no difficult feat to toss that well-balanced loopdirectly over the head of the unconscious sentry.
It was done like a flash. The man instinctively knew he was a prisonerthe very instant he felt the touch of the descending rope; indeed, hemust have heard the whistle of it through the air, for Billie saw himplainly try to duck his head as though he hoped to dodge the cast; buthe was too late.
All punchers understand that their only chance when "roped" is toinstantly start toward the point from which the loop springs. In thisway they may get a slack line, and be able to throw off the noose beforeit is too late.
As he was instantly jerked over, the sentry had no chance to run or evencrawl; but he proved that he knew his business by trying to _roll_toward Donald, who was taking in the slack rope hand over hand.
When the proper second came he leaped forward and threw himself on theprostrate sentry, whipping the rope around him several times so as torender him helpless.
All this happened in what Billie afterwards described as "three shakesof a lamb's tail." Up to that time the man who had been so taken bysurprise had not thought to give a shout; he had followed out theinstinct a cowboy always has actuating him; but now that he was in thetoils beyond any possibility of freeing himself through his ownexertions the fellow remembered that he had companions.
He let out a whoop that would have awakened men in even a more drunkenstupor than those who lay there.
Adrian had not been idle, however, during these few seconds of time.Having mapped out his little plan of campaign beforehand he knew whatwas expected of him. Jumping across the space that separated him fromthe fire he pounced upon one of the rustlers, and snatched his gun thefirst thing. That rendered a second fellow next to helpless, for a badman without his gun is never very dangerous.
Adrian threw the rifle forward, and covered the next man as he wastrying to get to his knees.
"Lie down, you, or it'll be the worst job you ever tackled!" he criedout; and the swing of that rifle convinced the rustler that he hadbetter do as he was told; so he flattened himself out on his face, andremained there motionless, possibly trying to collect his muddled witsand reason it all out.
There was still one more, but Billie had looked out for him. Makingthreatening motions with his extended rifle as he pushed forward the fatboy confronted this rustler, still sitting there on the ground, andblinking like an owl might on being thrust into an electric glow.
When he saw that it was a boy in front of him, a fat good-natured lad atthat, the puncher made as if to reach for his weapon, whereupon Billiethrust out his rifle still closer and shouted:
"Don't you dare touch it, do you hear! I'll pull this trigger as sure asmy name's Broncho Billie, and whiff you go into the next world! Hold upboth hands before you're riddled! Want me to give the signal for a dozenguns to blaze away all around you? Don't you know you're surrounded byan army? Hold 'em up, higher than that, mister, if you know what's goodfor you."
Donald put an end to the anxiety by suddenly darting forward andwhipping the gun out of the rustler's holster. He had already securedthe weapon belonging to the fellow whom Adrian had subdued, so that theenemy was now powerless to do them any immediate injury.
Billie gave a screech in order to relieve his overwrought nerves.
"Victory! We came, we saw, we conquered! Bully for the Broncho RiderBoys; they're a whole team and a dog under the wagon. Told you we coulddo 'em, fellows! Why, it was as easy as falling off a log. Hope you'regoing to hog-tie the lot, Donald, now that we've got 'em, so we won'thave to be sitting up to keep the same from vamosing the ranch; becausethere might be some other things more pleasant we'd like to be at."
Donald had prepared for just such an emergency beforehand, so that hehad plenty of stout cords in his pocket, with which to make the rustlerssecure.
He started in to do this. The men had recovered their wits enough by nowto display considerable ugly temper. They may even have begun to dimlysuspect that they had not been made prisoners by a large company ofpunchers after all, but that this trio of lively lads represented thesum total of their adversaries.
Donald knew that when they came to understand this humiliating fact theymight become so desperate that they would go to any lengths in theendeavor to turn the tables again. That was one reason why he made suchhaste in getting bonds on the prisoners, with his two chums standingthere, guns in hand and constantly on guard, lest one of the others leapupon Donald.
After the last man had been secured, and they were beginning to growland swear in a horrible way, Billie thought he might claim a little ofhis own time in order to carry out some idea he was hugging to hisheart.
But when he knelt down where that enormous feeder had been sitting itwas only to give a grunt of disgust, for the very last bite of cookedmeat had vanished. They had played their hand just a little too late toplease Billie, who had such a stubborn way of trying to carry out anyscheme he may have conceived, no matter how foolish it might be.
Adrian looked at Donald, and then the two of them shook hands. If everthey experienced the delight of having accomplished something worthwhile it was then and there, when they found that the four cattlerustlers were in their power, and the way stood open to recover thestampeded herd belonging to Bar-S Ranch.
Billie was not to be left out when the congratulations were goingaround; and accordingly he insisted on also shaking hands with hischums.
"We got 'em, didn't we, fellows? If they'd been a dozen 'stead of fourwe could have done the little trick just as easy. Ain't they a sorrybunch, though; and now I wonder if they happen to have any more of thatfresh meat along with 'em; because I'm a bit peaked for a bite, andtime's apt to hang heavy on our hands between this and daylight, when wecan get busy, and pull out of here."
Sure enough he did find that there was still a small portion of meatuncooked. After learning this Billie was inclined to allow his chums todo all the planning and figuring while he busied himself by the fire;the four men glaring at him, and in turn reviling and entreating him tolet them loose, as they had only been playing a practical joke onColonel Morrison, since the cattle had been bought the day before andthey thought to give him a scare.
But Billie paid no attention to either threats or blandishments, butwent steadily about his self-appointed task of preparing a midnightsupper for himself and companions, a congenial task it was too, as anyone who knew Billie's weakness would easily understand. There was to beno sleep for the boys on this night, after the little they had enjoyed.They could not guess what the plans of the rustlers might be, and thatin itself gave them cause for anxiety. If another lot of the Walkersshould turn up before morning, and catch them napping, things would gohard with the youngsters. And then again, with prisoners of that type ontheir hands Donald and Adrian dared not relax their vigilance a particlelest one of the men manage to get loose, and freeing his mates, pounceupon their late captors.
Donald was used to sizing up cow-punchers, and could see good in mostany chap who followed that profession; but he had to admit that thesefour were about as hard lookin
g specimens as he had run across for along while. If they ever found a chance to turn the tables on theBroncho Rider Boys it was easy to guess how they would act. The thoughtdid not afford Adrian any pleasure; but it did make him the moredetermined that he would neglect no precaution in order to make such apossibility less likely to happen.
Well, Billie finally called the others to sit down and have a bite oflate supper; and more to oblige him than because they were really hungrythey did eat a little. That satisfied the cook, however, and if hischums chose to partake so lightly of the fare, that only left the largerportion for him to make way with.
"What is the time?" asked Donald, when things had sort of simmered downto a condition of quiet, the prisoners ceasing to talk because they hadcome to realize that it was a useless expenditure of breath.
"Going on two now," was the answer.
"That means about four hours of it before us," said Donald; "well, we'vegot heaps to talk about, and can pass the time away all right. Then wemust keep a lookout for signs of trouble, or the coming of any morerustlers, as well as watch this tough bunch."
"And," added the other, "if we have any extra time we could put it inlooking to see how the cattle are coming on close by here. If all's wellin the morning we'll take the greatest pleasure in starting back for theranch house, driving this lot of long-horns that carry the Bar-S brand."
Donald began chuckling at that.
"What do you find to laugh at?" asked Billie, who looked unusually soberfor him.
"I was just thinking," replied the ranch boy, "what a tremendoussurprise it'll be for Uncle Fred, yes, and Aunt Josie too, when they seeus coming along whooping, with the lost herd in our charge. That wouldmake a picture worth keeping, if only Billie here could snap it off,which he can't, more's the pity!"
The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Page 10
