CHAPTER VIII
“THE WAY IS CLEAR!”
“What is it, Frank?” whispered Bob, as he stared in wonder at thestrange firefly that seemed to appear, and then vanish so regularly.
“A sentry smoking a cigarette,” came the reply.
“How silly of me not to have guessed that,” thought the Kentucky boy.
And then he sniffed the air, for it chanced that the night wind wasblowing gently from the point where that fire glowed.
“Smoke, sure enough, and from a cigarette, just as Frank said,” hecontinued to himself.
Of course it was very plain now why the expedition had come to such asudden halt. Here was a vidette posted in a position where he coulddiscover any suspicious movement below. There was a wide strip ofmoonlight confronting them, and it would be difficult to pass along thetrail without crossing this, when of course the keen eyes above woulddiscover their presence.
“What are we going to do about it, Frank?” he managed to say in hischum’s ear.
“Nothing—that is, the main lot of us,” replied Frank.
“But how about Scotty?” Bob continued, determined to be posted.
“Leave that to him; he’s figuring on doing something right now,” Frankreplied; and indeed, the Kentucky boy could see that the guide of theexpedition was leaving the main body, as though he had arranged hisprogramme.
Bob could give a pretty shrewd guess as to what was necessary. Thatsentry must not be allowed to block the way much longer. So long as hesat there in the shadows above, the cowboys could not advance a stepwithout taking risks. And if discovered this early in the night, theyknew that their plans would receive a serious setback.
Evidently Scotty was about to make some sort of move looking to thecapture of the vidette. Bob had heard Colonel Haywood warn his men thatthere was to be no blood shed unless the rustlers put up a desperateresistance. The stockman was known as a humane man, and believed inpeaceful tactics whenever possible, although, if forced to the wall, hecould fight hard.
A second cow puncher started to creep immediately after Scotty. Thatlooked as if they wanted to make sure of the game.
“Lay low!” was the whispered word passed along the line; and hence thetwo saddle boys remained where they chanced to be crouching.
Beyond the narrow pass no doubt lay a fertile valley, which the cunningMendoza had long utilized as a corral. Here he kept his stolen herds,while the brands were being changed. When the hue and cry had died downno doubt he would drive the cattle forth, taking care to avoid theneighborhood where his latest operations had been carried on.
“Listen hard, and perhaps you’ll hear something familiar,” Bob heard hiscomrade whisper.
From this he fancied that what Frank meant would not have any connectionwith the presence of that rustler, perched high on the hillside. So heconcentrated his mind on discovering something else. A minute later andhe drew Frank’s head close to his own lips, to say:
“Sure thing; I can catch the sound of cattle moving about; and there wasa lowing sound as plain as I ever heard a cow make. They’re not half amile away, Frank; is that so?”
“Just what they are; our lost herd; and perhaps other stray steers alongwith ’em,” came the answer.
Bob was strangely thrilled by the situation. He seemed to feel that theywere on the verge of great doings. Just beyond lay the enchanted valley,of which cowboys had often hinted, but of which no one seemed to knowthe exact location. And soon, when Scotty and his comrade had clearedthe way, they were going to enter that secret cache of the Mexicanrustler, to claim their own again.
For years had this bold Mendoza been having things pretty much his ownway in the cow country. He had many secret allies on the ranches, whosent him word of rich prizes to be captured; as well as plans on footlooking to his taking. And by pulling these strings whenever he feltlike it, he had been enabled to laugh at all efforts undertaken by thestockmen to down him.
Yes, even Bob, the late tenderfoot, could now understand that there mustbe a good sized herd of cattle somewhere nearby. Various sounds declaredit. Besides, when the night breeze happened to increase in strength fora few seconds at a time, he believed he could hear the tinkling of amandolin, and a man’s voice singing some Spanish serenade.
Evidently, then, the rustlers were so accustomed to feeling perfectlysecure in this lonely valley, far away from everything civilized, thatthey took life easily, and acted as though quite at home.
But Scotty and his mate had been gone some time now, Bob remembered.
“They ought to be getting pretty close up, hadn’t they, Frank?” hequestioned, in the low tone that had characterized their briefconversation hitherto.
“Watch the fire!” was all the answer he received; but it was enough.
Bob knew his chum was anticipating seeing a change take place at anyminute now; that he fully believed the two agile cow punchers must havehad ample time to crawl up the incline.
He found himself wondering whether the sentry would make any outcry. Ofcourse any such sound would threaten the success of their plans, sinceit must excite the curiosity of the rustlers, and lead to anexamination.
But then Scotty knew what he was about, and would hold his hand until hecould be sure of silence and success. Somehow Bob found himself puttingthe utmost faith in the cowboy. The remarkable manner in which Scottyhad led them thus far seemed to stamp him as capable.
The glow of the end of the cigarette could still be seen in the shadowsunder that clump of trees that clung to the face of the mountain. Ofcourse the man who smoked had consumed more than one little paper-boundweed during this time, but Mexicans have a way of rolling them deftlybetween their fingers when smoking, and lighting one from the end ofanother, in succession.
Straining his eyes, Bob endeavored to make out some moving form nearthat point upon which the attention of the watchers below wasconcentrated. In this he did not succeed. Those who were creeping uponthe man who lolled there, enjoying his smoke, and perhaps dreaming ofsome day when he could return to his native country with his pocketsfilled with gold, were moving with all the care that marks the advanceof the gray panther, when approaching his intended prey.
Bob was becoming uneasy. The strain began to tell upon him, whollyunaccustomed as he was to such scenes of excitement and suspense. Heeven found himself imagining all sorts of unpleasant accidents ashappening to Scotty, anyone of which would interfere with the successfulcarrying out of his plans.
But Frank seemed to have no such fears. When Bob started to mention whatwas worrying him, his chum immediately eased his mind.
“Don’t you believe it for a minute, Bob,” he whispered. “Scotty is rightclose to that rustler now, and perhaps before you could wink fifty timeshe’ll make his move. Keep on watching the light. When it suddenly goesout, and doesn’t die down, you’ll know something has happened!”
So Bob took fresh heart, and continued to keep his eyes glued on thepoint of fire, which he knew marked the spot where the vidette sat.
Then, suddenly he missed the spark! It had vanished without theslightest warning. Bob felt his chum move, and thought Frank gave alittle gasp as of satisfaction. Yes, and unless his own ears haddeceived him, he caught some sort of rustling sound up yonder where thevidette had his post.
Evidently Scotty had acted. From the fact that there was no outcry, Bobjudged that the movement had been a success.
Still no one among the crouching cowboys moved hand or foot. They werewaiting for a signal of some sort inviting them onward and upward. WhenScotty and his companion felt sure that they had the sentry so bound andgagged that he could not give any alarm, they would doubtless let theirallies know.
The light did not reappear, though Bob strained his eyes in the effortto discover it. From this fact he knew that something had indeedhappened.
“Has he got him, do you think, Frank?” he could not keep from asking,cautiously.
“Not any doubt about it,” came the confident reply. “I heard
him drop;and he would have whooped it up only Scotty’s fingers closed on histhroat, and cut the yell off. Just give ’em a minute more to fix him upright, then we’ll get the sign.”
“Well, I’m glad that part of the job is over, and no alarm given,”thought Bob, his nerves relaxing somewhat after the recent strain.
And while he lay there waiting, ready to make a fresh start when thetime came, he heard what he thought was a little bird uttering a lazytwitter somewhere up on the mountainside.
Frank began to get up.
“Are you going, Frank?” asked the Kentucky lad, also rising to hisknees.
“Everybody’s on the move,” came the reply. “Didn’t you hear the signal,Bob?”
“I heard what I thought was the sound of a sleepy bird disturbed on hisperch; was that what you meant?” asked Bob.
“Yes,” replied Frank. “That came from our friend Scotty. It told us theway is clear, and that we might as well get a move on. So here we startinto the valley, where our prize herd is kept on the grass.”
“They did that thing up handsome, Frank,” admitted Bob.
“It’s a way Scotty has,” chuckled the other. “He never goes intoanything but he carries it out like machine work. And Bob, this is onlythe beginning, remember. We’ve got a heap cut out for us yet. It’s goingto be a night you’ll never forget as long as you live. And as for SenorMendoza, the boys of Circle Ranch expect to give him his Waterloo righthere in his own camp. Come along, Bob; show how you can move along thispath into the narrow pass.”
The Saddle Boys at Circle Ranch; Or, In at the Grand Round-Up Page 8
