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

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XVI

  QUEER ACTIONS

  What effect this announcement had on Dick and Bud can easily beimagined. Both leaped from their saddles, as Nort had done, andgathered close to him as he held the branding iron in his hand.

  It was of the usual type, an iron plate, which had been cast in amould, so that the device--two Z letters--formed a depression in thesmooth surface of the iron plate. On the outer edge was a circle, sothat when the brand was heated, and pressed on the hide of a steer,calf or maverick it would burn the impression of a double Z inside aring--the mark of Hank Fisher's cattle.

  "Whew!" exclaimed Dick. "This makes it look bad for them, Bud!"

  "Oh, not necessarily, though I'm glad we found it," spoke the westernlad.

  "Why isn't it suspicious?" asked Nort, whose high hopes had been ratherdashed by Bud's somewhat cool reception of Dick's statement.

  "Oh, it's _suspicious_ all right!" Bud hastened to say, "and don'timagine I'm making light of you finding this, Nort! I'm mighty gladyou did! Only we can't make it look bad for Hank Fisher, or the DoubleZ crowd unless we can fasten this on them."

  "You mean we can't prove they dropped it here during the raid lastnight?" asked Nort, as he vaulted into the saddle.

  "That's it," spoke Bud. "It does look suspicious, I'll admit. But yousee while this is our range, we couldn't make a fuss just because somecowboy from Double Z rode over it. That wouldn't be right. And what'sto hinder this having been dropped by some cowboy who was merely ridingover our range?"

  "That's possible," admitted Dick.

  "But I don't believe it," asserted Nort.

  "Nor I," chimed in Bud. "But you got to go slow in making accusationsout west, unless you're ready to back your opinion up with a gun; andwe don't want to do that."

  "No," Nort admitted. "But Old Billee and Snake said they were going toride over to Double Z to-day, to sort of size up the situation. Sowhat's to prevent 'em taking this branding iron along and asking,casual like, if they don't want it back?"

  "Nothing to stop that," said Bud with a grin. "In fact that's justwhat we'll do. Come on, we'll hit the trail for the camp and make asort of raid on Double Z--only we'll make it to-morrow instead ofto-day, as it's too late for a long ride."

  There were murmurs of surprise and excitement at the camp, when theboys rode in with the Double Z branding iron that Nort had picked up atthe scene of the raid.

  "They dropped that last night, sure as horned toads!" cried SnakePurdee, whose wound was excuse enough for not being out on duty.

  "I reckon," agreed Pocut Pete, who likewise was off duty. "Let's seethat," and he reached for the iron which had a wooden handle to enablea cowboy to manipulate the marker when the branding end was hot.

  Bud, so Nort and Dick thought, looked rather curiously at Pocut Petewhile the latter was examining the iron. And when the strangecowboy--strange in the sense that he had not been long in Mr. Merkel'sservice--took out his knife and began whittling away at the woodenhandle, Bud uttered a sharp cry of:

  "Stop!"

  "What's the matter?" asked Pocut Pete, with an assumption of innocence,which was so plainly an assumption that Nort and Dick exchanged rapidglances.

  "Don't cut off those initials!" went on Bud. "Maybe by them we cantell who owns the iron."

  "Initials!" exclaimed Pocut Pete. "I don't see any initials!"

  "There they are," and Bud pointed to some, rather faintly cut, on aflat place in the handle. "E. C. are the letters, though I don't knowanybody with them at Double Z."

  "I don't, either," said Pocut Pete. "In fact, I didn't see themletters, Bud. I was just whittling the handle to see what kind of woodit was. Thought maybe I could tell by that."

  "All right," spoke Bud, as he again assumed charge of the brandingiron. And Pocut Pete, with a sharp look at the young rancher, went outto the corral where the spare ponies were kept.

  "Was he really trying to cut out those initials?" asked Nort, as thethree boy ranchers passed on to the grub tent, for it was the joyfultime to eat--one of the three joyful times that came each day.

  "I wouldn't say he was doing it _deliberately_," spoke Bud, "but hecertainly _was_ whittling near those letters. And if he had cut themoff the owner of the branding iron could easily claim it wasn't his."

  "That was queer," declared Dick.

  "Very," assented Bud. "In fact Pocut Pete has acted queer ever sincehe's been here. I don't like him, and as soon as dad has anotherpuncher to spare I'm going to ask for a change."

  The remainder of that day and the night passed quietly. There was noother alarm, and riding herd was an easy task. Nor was there anystoppage of the water, which ran freely out through the pipe from theunderground tunnel as though there had never been any interruption ofits very necessary service.

  "Well, let's go!" exclaimed Bud next day, as he and his cousins saddledtheir ponies, and Old Billee called for Yellin' Kid to help catch arather frisky pinto that the old cowboy was going to ride.

  "Over to Double Z?" asked Nort.

  "Yes, we'll take a sort of a look around their place, and hand backthis iron," went on Bud, as he slung the implement to his saddle by aloop of his lariat.

  The ride to Double Z was pleasant enough, for soon the boys and OldBillee struck the hill trail, where it was cooler than down in thevalley.

  But if they hoped to discover any incriminating evidence at HankFisher's place they were disappointed.

  There was no sign of Del Pinzo--in fact that wily Mexican half-breedwas seldom at the ranch proper. Nor was Hank at home. But his foremanmet the boys and Old Billee.

  "Hear about the racket over at our place?" asked Bud, easily enough,but with a beating heart. He and his cousins looked around for anysigns of wounded men, but saw none.

  "What racket?" asked Ike Johnson, the foreman.

  "Rustlers," put in Old Billee. "They scratched me, shot up SnakePurdee and dropped this--or at least we found this after the mix-upwhen we'd druv 'em off!" and he took the branding iron from Bud'ssaddle loop.

  "You don't mean to say----" began Ike, with an ugly tone to his voice.

  "Don't mean t' say nawthin'!" drawled Old Billee. "That's one of yourirons, I take it."

  "Yes, it is," growled the foreman slowly. "But that don't mean----"

  "Course it don't!" pleasantly interrupted the old cowboy, giving theyoung ranchers a slight signal to let him do the talking. "One of yourboys dropped it, likely, ridin' short-cut across our place, Ike."

  "Yes, I remember now, Ed Carr said he lost his. This is it," and theforeman of Double Z pointed to the initials.

  "Well, tell Ed--is he here now?" asked Billee, interrupting himself.

  For an instant--and for an instant only--Ike Johnson hesitated. Thenhe answered:

  "No, Ed's ridin' line. I'll give him this when he comes in."

  "All right," spoke Billee, with a smile. "We was just passin' andstopped with it. How's things, Ike?" he asked with an effort to befriendly.

  "Oh, so-so! Might be wuss, an' might be a hull lot better."

  "I reckon it's that way all over," Billee made answer. "Well, boys,"he resumed, "might as well ride back. You gittin' all the water youcan use from Pocut River, ain't you, Ike?" he asked, turning in hissaddle.

  "Better ask th' boss about that," was the sullen retort. "I reckonhe'll have suthin' t' say, soon, that you Diamond X folks won't like!"

  "Is that a threat?" asked Bud quickly.

  "Easy, son, easy!" cautioned Old Billee.

  "You can make anythin' yo' like of it!" sneered the Double Z foreman.

  And then the boy ranchers and Old Billee rode off.

  "Well, we didn't find out much," said Nort, when they were on thehomeward trail.

  "No, but we let 'em know we found that branding iron, and that we knewwhere it belonged," spoke Bud. "That's something!"

  They were rather late getting back to camp, for Dick's pony went lame,and the others accommodated their pace
to his. It was dusk when thelittle party hit the borders of Diamond X Second, and saw the grazingcattle.

  Bud saw something else, for as he rode ahead he called:

  "What's he doing?"

  "Who?" asked Nort.

  "Pocut Pete," replied Bud. "Looks like he was trying to brand one ofour cattle with his knife! Look! That's mighty queer!"