Boy Ranchers in Camp; Or, The Water Fight at Diamond X

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER IX

  A SHOT IN THE NIGHT

  Wheeling his pony, Old Billee rode back with the boy ranchers, untilthey reached the bottom of the reservoir wall. Then, dismounting, Bud,Nort and Dick scrambled up the earth slope on one side until they couldlook into the storage tank, and at the pipe which, connecting with theold underground water-course, kept the reservoir filled.

  "She isn't spouting!" said Bud, in blank disappointment.

  "Just a dribble," added Nort, mournfully.

  "And if it does as it did before that'll stop in a little while,"remarked Dick.

  "When did it start to stop?" asked Bud, unconscious of the doublemeaning of his words.

  "About an hour ago," Old Billee answered. "I happened t' notice itwhen I come up here t' try for a fish."

  "Fish!" cried Nort. "Can you get any fish _here_?"

  "Sartin sure!" asserted the old cowboy. "They come in from th' river,under th' mountain, though how they like the dark I can't say, an' theycome out of this pipe. I've caught many a good one."

  The eastern lads looked to Bud for confirmation, and their cousin,nodded, rather gloomily, though.

  "Yes," said Bud, "fish do come through the pipe. But if we don't getany more water they'll all die off soon."

  "Maybe the water will come back--as it did before," asserted Dick.

  Bud did not answer. He appeared to be figuring out something on theback of an old envelope with the stub of a pencil.

  "We'll have enough for a week, I think," finally announced the boyrancher. "Then, if the water doesn't come back, we'll have to driveall the stock over to Diamond X. Can't take a chance letting 'em dieof thirst here, even if they didn't stampede, which they'd be sure todo."

  Two things are vitally necessary on a ranch--grass and water for thestock. Of grass there was plenty in Flume Valley, and, had the streamcontinued to come through the pipe, there would have been a goodlysupply of water, even for the extra stock added from Square M.

  But when no fluid spurted from the mouth of the black pipe, the otherend being hidden in the opening of the natural water course, it spelledruin for Diamond X Second.

  "I wonder--I just wonder--if this has anything to do with the threat wereceived?" mused Bud, as he and his cousins went down the slope to thelittle table of land where the tents were pitched.

  "Granting that it has, who sent the warning?" asked Nort.

  "Who else but the man who doesn't want to see any water diverted fromPocut River?" asked Bud, in turn. "I mean Hank Fisher, and the gang hetrails along with! If anyone stopped this water, he did!"

  "But how?" asked Yellin' Kid, who had strolled up to take part in thegeneral conversation. "He couldn't do it at th' river end of th' pipe,without bein' found out, and he hasn't been around _here_, I'll gambleon that--not since we started keepin' watch at night."

  "No, he hasn't been here," admitted Bud, slowly. "It sure is a puzzle.Well, let's have grub, and talk about it later. It may come back. Ifit doesn't we have enough for a week--maybe longer."

  It was drinking water for the cattle that was mostly needed, since theoccasional, slight rainfall was now sufficient to provide for thegrass, though some water was used to irrigate certain sections thatwould be called "meadows" in the east. This drinking water wasconducted to distant troughs by pipes running from the reservoir, thepipes being controlled by means of valves, or water gates.

  Had there been natural water-holes in Flume Valley it would, long ago,have been used as a place to raise cattle. But it was the absence ofdrinking places that caused it to be passed by, until, by artificialmeans, tapping the river through the underground course, Mr. Merkel hadenabled his son and nephews to become boy ranchers in earnest.

  As Bud had stated, there was about a week's supply on reserve in theconcrete reservoir. When that was exhausted, unless the water againstarted flowing through the pipe, the cattle would suffer from thirst.

  "Well, she isn't spouting any," mournfully remarked Nort, as, with hisbrother and Bud, he ascended the slope, standing on the edge of thereservoir.

  "No," agreed Bud. "She's as dry as an old buffalo skull now. I don'tknow what to do!"

  The shadows of dusk were falling, and the boys felt that the night wascoming with its gloom to match their own feelings. Failure seemed tostare them in the face.

  "But I don't see how anyone--granting that somebody like Hank Fisher orDel Pinzo has it in for us--can shut off the water without operating ateither end of the flume!" exclaimed Nort.

  "That is queer," agreed Bud. "I wonder what's inside that tunnel wherethe old watercourse runs? I've been through it, but couldn't see muchof anything. I've a good notion----"

  He broke off his remarks to gaze intently ahead. There was a movementin the gloom, and a figure walked away.

  "Who's there?" asked Bud sharply, his hand slipping to his .45.

  "It's me," came quickly, if not grammatically, from Pocut Pete, whosevoice the boys recognized. "I just moseyed up here t' see if she wasrunnin'."

  "Well, she isn't," spoke Bud, a bit shortly.

  "So I see," came the drawling answer, and it was followed by a fainttinkling of glass.

  Bud started, and tried to pierce the night shadows. But all he saw wasthe figure of the strange cowboy becoming more and more indistinct.Bud was just going to say something when he was halted by the voice ofNort.

  "I have an idea!" exclaimed the eastern lad.

  "What is it?" asked his brother. "Anything to do with this?" and hewaved toward the reservoir which was strangely still, now that thewater no longer bubbled into it from the pipe.

  "Yes," went on Nort. "Why not investigate and see where the stoppageis, Bud?"

  "Investigate what?"

  "The pipe line--the old underground water-course."

  "You mean go through the tunnel?" Bud asked.

  "Sure! Why not? You say it's big enough all the way through, and thewater itself doesn't occupy much of the bottom. We could walk it in aday, easy!"

  "Yes," agreed Bud, "it isn't more than five miles, though we'd have tocarry lanterns, and we might get lost in some side passage."

  "That's just what I want to find out about!" cried Nort. "If there_is_ a branch passage maybe that's where the water goes! Come on, Bud,let's go through the tunnel!"

  "I'm with you!" said Dick.

  For a moment Bud hesitated and then, as he was about to reply, therecame the sudden sound of a shot, which shattered the night with asliver of flame, plainly visible to the boys.

  Instantly a band of coyotes set up their weird howling, and thestartled steers lowed and bellowed as they rushed about.