CHAPTER XIII.
ADRIAN HIRES MORE HELP.
"We didn't reckon we'd meet up with you so soon again," remarked one ofthe cow-punchers, as, with his two companions, he drew in alongsideAdrian; Donald at the time was "keeping tabs" on the rustler at somelittle distance away.
"And you're wondering your heads off right now," Adrian told him, withone of his rare smiles that made him so many friends, "what under thesun we're doing with this bunch of cattle. It's a long story, so I'lljust say that we saw a stampede with four rustlers managing it, andchased after. We found them in camp at the mouth of Bittersweet Coulie,up which they had chased the herd, where they could change the brands inthe morning, and drive the lot away to one of the Walker ranches. Well,we managed to make the four punchers our prisoners; and leaving threebound there, we're taking the other fellow part way along the backtrail. When we got a few miles from the ranch buildings we thought we'dlet him go back with the four ponies, so's to free his pards. That's theyarn in a nutshell, boys."
They stared at him, as though hardly able to believe their ears. Itseemed incredible that three mere lads should have managed to get thebetter of a bunch of the Walker rustlers, men whom all honest puncherswanted as little to do with as possible.
Still, there were the cattle as positive evidence of the truth ofAdrian's story, and they knew Corney, as well as his reputation, wellenough.
"That beats anything I've heard tell of for many a day!" exclaimed onepuncher, looking as though he might be ready to shout, and swing his hatin glee.
"First time them Walkers has been rubbed the wrong way for a hull yearor more," added the second fellow in chaps and flannel shirt, and bootsthat sported enormous Mexican spurs; "fact is, ever since Fred Comstocktook water, and quit fightin' 'em, an' that was after he married thatsister of Hatch Walker's."
"He did used to be a fighter; but seems like his heart it's broke withhavin' her hands in his hair so often; and he never lets out a yawpthese days, no matter what happens. And say, them steers is got theBar-S brand on right now; seems like they must a come from his place,the third lot he's lost in nine months."
"It's going to be the last, if I know anything about it!" declaredAdrian; at which suggestive words the three cow-punchers exchangedsignificant glances, and then the lanky fellow remarked:
"We doesn't mean to be personal, you know, stranger, but might we askwhat that's got to do with you?" he went on to say.
"Only this," replied the boy, quickly; "they've been robbing me longenough, and I think it's about time this Walker gang was broken up, inthe bargain. There's a new sheriff just come into office, I'm told, andas soon as I can get word to him I'm going to demand that he come to theBar-S Ranch with a posse, to take some decided action. Perhaps, whenthey find out that there's something on foot, the other ranch ownersaround this part of the Wyoming range country will join in with me. Oh!I forgot that I hadn't introduced myself yet. I'm Adrian Sherwood, andit's my Uncle Fred Comstock you've been telling such queer storiesabout."
"Put her there, Adrian!" shouted the lanky puncher, thrusting out hishand. "I sure am proud to meet up with the son of a man that had such agood name as your dad. And if what you've started in to do is a sign ofwhat's goin' to happen here, I reckons as how the Walkers'll hev to walkpurty soon, eh, boys?" and he turned to nod his head at his comrades.
These two were just as desirous of shaking hands with young Sherwood asthe lanky fellow had been; and Adrian liked them more than ever.
"I've been surprised at the bad returns I've been getting a long whilenow, from Uncle Fred," he went on to say, "and made up my mind to runalong here from Arizona, where I was visiting my friend Donald Mackay,on his father's ranch, just to find out for myself what was going on."
"Then Comstock nor his big wife don't suspicion that you're around, isthet it, Adrian?" exclaimed the thin puncher, grinning as though vastlypleased.
"The first they'll know about it," the other went on to say, "will bethis afternoon when we come driving this recovered herd back home. Oneof the three men we left at the mouth of the coulie said he'd givesomething to be on hand when that took place, just to see whathappened."
"You bet I would, too!" declared the lanky puncher; "and my pards herewould be tickled to death if they could see what _she_ looks like whenyou kim aridin' along, drivin' your own cattle back home, which sheexpects are carryin' the Walker brand by this time."
"Sure we would!" burst out the other two, eagerly.
"All right, then, you can see that sight if you'll engage with me for ayear at the regular wages, and agree to stand back of me!" observedAdrian, thinking the time had come to strike while the iron was hot.
"D'ye mean that, Adrian Sherwood?" asked the other, after he had caughtaffirmative nods from both his companions.
"Just what I do!" was the reply the ranch boy gave. "I expect there'llhave to be an overhauling of the pay roll when I take the reins in myown hands; because of course some of the punchers at the ranch will beWalker sympathizers, put there to cow the rest. My uncle will know thosehe can trust, and the rest must go; so you see I'll need a few goodtrusty fellows to back me up. What do you say?"
"It's a go!" exclaimed the lanky puncher, as he again thrust out hishand; "for it happens just now that we're lookin' for a job, as our bosssold out his ranch business, and the new man brought his own crowd alongwith him. We even thought of hiking over to Bar-S to see what chancethere might be there; but since that Walker crowd has been runnin'things up yonder none of us kinder like the idea of hitchin' up with Mr.Comstock. But since you've come, and mean to do things like you say,why, we'll throw in with you, sure we will, Adrian."
That pleased the other more than he could find words to say.
"Then let's call it a bargain, and first chance we get we'll put thesame down in writing so there'll be no mistake. And now tell me whatyour names might be."
The lanky one gave his as George Hess; the little "sawed-off" announcedhimself as Andy Hickenlooper; while the last puncher declared that hewould respond to any name, especially when the cook was pounding on afrying-pan with a big spoon to announce dinner; but that if he had tosign any legal document he believed he could swear to the fact that hehad once been called Septimus Green, shortened to plain Sep.
It was determined that they might carry the rustler along for a few moremiles and then send him about his business, with the other ponies in hischarge. To be sure, the news would thus be carried to the Walkerheadquarters in due time; but long ere that could happen Adrian expectedto have reached the ranch with his cattle, so that it did not mattermuch anyhow.
Of course Adrian felt it his immediate duty to inform his chums of hisgood fortune in making arrangements with such a husky lot of punchers,and ones they had particularly fancied when they met them before.
So he had George keep the rustler under his eye, while he called Donaldand Billie to him, to explain the situation. No doubt the boys hadpartly guessed the truth as soon as they heard those yells, and saw thethree newcomers swing out to start driving the herd; but all the same itsounded fine to them as Adrian spun the story.
"Great work, old chum!" exclaimed Billie, approvingly; "and already theatmosphere up around these diggings seems different. The punchers thinkso; and say, wouldn't it be a _stupendous_ thing now if our comingstarted the ranchers to getting their pluck back, so that they'd riseup, and chase this old Walker tribe out of Wyoming. Hope that's what'sgoing to happen, you hear me talking, boys!"
When Billie was pleased his round red face fairly beamed with the smilethat came so easily upon it. It was a catching smile, too, and manytimes those who saw the same just had to chime in from sheer sympathy.
For some time longer the drive went on, and they must have covered morethan half of the territory over which the stampeded cattle had chased onthe preceding night. As yet there was not the first sign of any pursuiton the part of the punchers connected with the raided ranch; as GeorgeHess said, they were "lying down, like whipped dogs, and
letting thingsgo as they pleased, because it wouldn't do any good if they did want tofollow the thieves, with that woman holding her thumb on Fred Comstockso that he didn't dare call his soul his own these days, withoutdodging."
Adrian began to recognize numerous marks in the landscape. He knew thatin not more than another couple of hours they ought to arrive at theirdestination, unless something not down on the bills happened tointerfere; which could only come from a meeting with a large bunch ofthe Walker punchers, and consequent war.
Billie was eagerly waiting to hear one of his chums remark that it wastime they turned the rustler loose. He was beginning to get uneasy,under the dreadful fear that this dismissal might be delayed so longthat they would have to feed the fellow again, and that Billie believedwould be a misfortune in many ways.
Finally he saw Adrian beckon the rustler, and head him toward whereBillie had the three ponies belonging to the prisoners of BittersweetCoulie trailing along after him. That could only mean one thing, thesending of Corney about his business, and allowing him to gallop back torelease his unfortunate companions.
"Here's your ponies," Billie called out, after he had heard Adrian tellthe fellow he was at liberty to ride away; "and don't forget that wetreated you white on this trip. I only hope that if ever I have themisfortune to be held a prisoner among your crowd that you'll see to itI don't starve; because I always did say there was no death I dreadedmore than going without my regular allowance of grub."
But nobody was listening to Billie talk. The rustler had taken thebridles of the ponies and without a word turned to gallop away. Once hedid turn in his saddle to shake his clenched fist back at the boys, andthen immediately duck down until he lay flat along the neck of hismount, half fearing lest one of them answer his challenge with a shotfrom his rifle.
But such a thing did not occur to any one of the three chums. They werereally too glad to see the ugly-faced Corney depart to think of tryingto detain him a minute longer than seemed absolutely necessary; andleast of all would Billie have put out a restraining hand, because itwas nearly noon, and lunch time.
The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Page 13
