These were followed by a perfect fusillade of rifle and revolver shots from everywhere, most of them aimed at the cupola.
But as soon as Ted had fired the shot that had brought down the man wolf he had jumped through the scuttle into the attic of the house, and the balls harmlessly riddled the cupola.
From a window on the second floor Ted saw a score or more of forms leap into prominence; the forms of men who cast aside their skins of wolf, and who had turned their wolfish howls into the scarcely less fiendish yells of men.
At the sight he rushed downstairs, and found the boys hastily gathering in the dark living room, arming themselves from the gun rack, and taking their places beside the windows.
In the middle of the room stood the major, supporting with one arm the unsteady form of his brother Frederic, who had risen at the first alarm in spite of his wound, and who insisted upon fighting with the rest.
"The Gray Wolves have come," he said. "They will be hard to drive off. But you must do it, or go yourselves."
Stella and the young Japanese girl were standing at one of the windows peering fearfully out.
"Come away from there, Stella," said Ted. "They might see you and fire."
"All right, Ted, but you can bet that I will be in this somewhere," said Stella. "It's my business to defend this girl, and I'm going to do it."
Ted smiled, but said nothing, and passed on around the room, seeing that the boys were properly placed to resist the attack when it came.
Outside all was quiet again. The howls had ceased, and not a man was in evidence anywhere. It was the calm before the storm.
"What's the plan?" said Bud, coming up to Ted, for he and Clay had run into the house at Ted's shot from the cupola.
"I hardly know," answered Ted. "My plan is somewhat upset. I thought at first that they were going to attack us immediately in this room. But they seem to have changed their minds."
"I've got a hunch," said Bud, scratching his head in a meditative way.
"Let us have it. That's what we need now."
"They're creeping up on us. I see one o' them a minute ago. They're countin' on gettin' up ter ther house before we expect 'em, an' then pourin' a volley inter us, an' puttin' us out o' business quick."
"That would be like that brute Mowbray."
"I've got it figgered that way. Now, s'posin' we fool 'em by not bein' here. They sneak until they git so's they kin fire through ther windows without any danger ter themselves, an' run away. But we ain't here."
"Where will we be?"
"Comin' up on them from behind."
"That's the stuff. Notify the boys at once. We'll get behind the house and creep up on them through the grass. We'll fool them at their own game."
As silently as ghosts the broncho boys deserted the living room and went to the back door. After carefully reconnoitering the situation without, Ted softly opened the door, and led the boys into the shadow of the house, and they crept away through the tall grass.
Only Frederic Caruthers and Stella and the Japanese girl remained in the house.
Skirting the house grounds, the boys were soon out on the prairie, giving their enemies a wide berth.
Raising his head slightly from behind a tuft of grass, Ted took stock of the position of the enemy.
In the shadow of the house beneath the windows of the living room he could see the still darker shadows of the Gray Wolves.
Leading the boys into a semicircle from which at a word of command they could rush the house, Ted passed this word along the line:
"If they enter the house, as they probably will, we will close in quietly, rush the house, and capture them inside. Let none of them escape, and make no noise."
They had not many minutes to wait before the Gray Wolves began to get uneasy.
Evidently they expected some movement within the house, and the continued silence puzzled them.
But suddenly, like the scream of a tempest, the still air was shattered with wild yells and pistol shots, followed by the crash of breaking glass.
The Gray Wolves had stormed the house, breaking in the windows, smashing in the front door, and making all the noise they could, with the object of frightening the inmates into a condition where they would be unable to defend themselves.
Stella, with young Caruthers and Itsu San, had locked themselves into a back room, which they could defend for a few minutes at least against all comers.
As the Gray Wolves attacked the house Ted gave the word to advance, and they moved forward as one man, crouching behind the grass tufts to be out of sight of any guard the Wolves might have set.
It took not more than a minute or two to reach the side of the house, and look through the windows.
Inside the living room men could be seen running back and forth, searching for the broncho boys and the treasure.
Finally a wild yell told Ted that the safe had been found.
"That's good," said Ted to Bud. "They're at the safe. It will take all their attention for a while. They don't know, poor fools, that the treasure has been carried out and buried elsewhere. There's where we'll bag most of them. When we get in, boys, look out for Mowbray. Don't let him escape."
At a signal the boys climbed into the living room, which was now deserted, for the Wolves had scattered all over the house. Most of them were in the major's room working on the safe.
They had tried to move it from the house, but it proved too heavy for them, and they were now trying to break it open with an ax which they had found in one of the lower rooms.
Ted had heard the blows as they beat upon the lock, and in the din it was not a difficult thing for the broncho boys to get into the house without being heard.
Several of the Wolves, in searching the lower part of the house, had discovered the locked room in which Stella and the other two were in hiding.
They had attempted to batter down the door, only to be driven from it by shots sent at them by Stella and Caruthers.
"Trouble back there, Bud," said Ted. "I guess some one is trying to get at Stella. Take a couple of the boys, and go back and stop it."
"What are you goin' ter do?" asked Bud, who was afraid the rescuing assignment would cut him out of the fight above stairs.
Just at that moment there was a tremendous explosion overhead, the crash of glass and the triumphant yells of the Gray Wolves.
"I'm going upstairs," yelled Ted. "When you've driven off or captured these fellows down here, come up."
At this he dashed away for the broad stairs that led to the upper story, followed by the broncho boys and Major Caruthers.
They had just reached the landing above when the yell of triumph turned to one of baffled rage, for the Wolves had found that the safe was empty.
Ted Strong, with a look such as a conquering warrior might wear, burst into the room where the Wolves were clustered around the empty safe.
Behind him followed the boys.
"Surrender!" shouted Ted.
The Gray Wolves wheeled to look into a perfect battery of rifles. Not to surrender meant death. To attempt to raise a hand would bring a shot, or a dozen.
The Gray Wolves realized that they were in a trap, and that if they made the least resistance they would be shot down.
"Throw your guns on the floor!" commanded Ted.
He was obeyed.
"Gather up those guns," said Ted. Bud and Clay stepped forward, and gathered in the rifles and revolvers.
Ted's eyes were running over the group of prisoners trying to pick out Mowbray, when suddenly there was a smashing of glass, and, as he turned in that direction, he saw a form taking a flying leap through the window to the ground, and, quick as a flash, he fired and rushed to the window.
But when he got there his only reward was the sight of a man on horseback headed for the hills, swaying dangerously in his saddle.
Mowbray had escaped, but he had taken with him an unpleasant reminder of Ted Strong.
* * *
CHAPTER XXIV.
WHITE FANG LEADS HOME.
Ted herded the Gray Wolves into one of the rooms and placed guards at the door and at the outside windows.
The desperadoes were thoroughly cowed. Burk was so frightened that he was willing to do anything Ted said, and cringed to the leader of the broncho boys like a thrashed cur.
"What are you goin' to do with us?" he asked Ted.
"I'm going to put you where you will no longer disgrace the office you held by the authority of the United States," said Ted promptly. "You will get all you deserve."
"Let me down easy," begged Burk.
"You don't deserve it. You will be in jail as soon as it gets light enough to march you to Rodeo."
The first thing for Ted to do was to get rid of his prisoners, then to go after Mowbray, the archcriminal, and bring him to justice, and to arrest Ban Joy, the Japanese thug, whom he was convinced was the murderer of Helen Mowbray.
There was one more thing that demanded his attention for the safety of the live stock as well as the people of the Bubbly Well Ranch, and that was the destruction of White Fang, the demon wolf that was as well known in that part of the country as a destructive agency as Mowbray, the thief and murderer, himself.
For years White Fang had preyed upon the ranchmen, exacting a heavy toll in cattle and sheep. Every huntsman in the country had taken to the chase for him, but the cunning old rascal had outwitted or out-footed them all.
The following afternoon the broncho boys, led by Ted Strong, marched up the main street of Rodeo to the jail with a score of desperadoes bound to their horses.
When they appeared a great many of the townspeople, friends of the prisoners, gathered and made a demonstration to take them away from the boys.
Ted immediately formed the boys in a circle about the prisoners.
With rifles trained upon the crowd the broncho boys held them off while Ted spoke to them quietly, but with a force that carried conviction. He told the people just what the prisoners had done, and what he expected to prove against them, hinting that there were other men in the town who would join them in jail if what he suspected proved to be true. Later in the day a strange thing happened: Several men in high office disappeared from the town, and were never seen there more.
Having turned his prisoners over to the sheriff, the boys rode back to the Bubbly Well Ranch, feeling safe from further depredations for a time at least.
On the lower part of the ranch the wolves had been playing havoc with the calves and the yearlings, and the major's cowboys were continually bringing in news of the depredations of the pack.
The pack was led by old White Fang, the cowboys said, and they could do nothing with him. Whatever traps they laid for him were upset by the cunning of the old rascal, and he made life miserable for the men responsible for the cattle.
"What are we going to do about him?" said the major one day to Ted. "I suppose we'd better organize a big hunt, and drive the wolves out of the country."
"No use," said Ted. "The old beggar would hide in the mountains until it was over, and then renew the attack on you."
"What do you propose, then?"
"I'm going out after him myself, and I'll not come back until I get him."
Stella, who was curled up in a big chair in the living room reading, looked up quickly when Ted said this, and smiled out of the corner of her mouth, for she scented sport in this.
"I think I'll go along," said the major.
"I'd like to have you, major, but it won't do this time. You are too heavy a rider. It will take a light rider to turn the trick with White Fang," answered Ted, and the major looked a bit taken back.
But Stella chuckled to herself. If it took a light rider, she was in that class.
Later in the day she saw Ted and Bud go toward the corral. Ted carried in his hand a new, strong Mexican lariat.
She watched them a few minutes before she realized their mission.
"I believe they're going on the wolf hunt," she said to herself, "and without me." Her eyes flashed. "We'll see about that."
She ran into her room, and soon emerged ready for a ride. But when she got on the veranda Ted and Bud were galloping away across the prairie.
Without hesitating she ran to the corral, caught her pony and saddled it, and was in pursuit.
Ted heard the clatter of her pony's feet and turned to see her coming at whirlwind speed, and slowed up to wait for her.
"Ha, ha!" she cried, as she came up with them, her face wreathed in smiles. "Thought you'd go without me, eh?"
"Didn't think you'd care about such a commonplace thing as chasing a wolf," said Ted.
"Well, I'm going," she answered, putting her pony into a gallop.
They rode for the lower pasture, which ran up into the foothills of Sombrero Peak, where the recent depredations of the wolves had been bothering the cow-punchers.
They passed small herds of cattle grazing here and there, attended by herders, who waved their hands to the trio as they swept past.
As they were entering the foothills Ted's keen eye caught sight of a slinking form on the rise of a hill running parallel with their path.
He reined in suddenly and looked long at it.
"By Jove, I believe that's our game over there," he said. "Take a look at it, Bud and Stella. Don't you think that is White Fang?"
"It shore is, er his twin brother," said Bud, to which Stella nodded acquiescence.
"Take it easy," said Ted. "We'll ride toward him, and when we get as close as we can without his bolting, put your spurs to it and chase him for all you're worth. He can run like a scared rabbit."
They rode easily toward the wolf, who looked up at them with a wise, sidewise twist of his hoary old head, but did not increase his speed any.
"He's tolling us into the hills where he can easily get lost," said Ted. "Don't let him do it! Head him off! Turn him back to the prairie."
Diverging, they rode parallel with White Fang again, and, before he suspected their maneuver, they were ahead of him, and began to close in.
But finally White Fang stopped and watched them for a moment, then deliberately turned and set off on the back trail at a smart lope along the ridge he had come.
"I wish we had a couple of Russian wolfhounds here," said Ted, as the three were breezing along in the trail of White Fang. "That would make it something like a chase."
"I'm bettin' that ole galoot will give us somethin' ter do before we ketch up with him, at that," said Bud.
"Close up on him," said Ted. "He's having too good a time."
They let their horses out a notch or two, and closed up on White Fang, who was off the ridge by this time, and galloping across the prairie.
The old wolf did not seem to have as much steam in him as usual, and loped along in easy fashion, occasionally looking over his shoulder at them, apparently gauging the distance and their speed.
"The only way to get close to him is to spurt when he isn't thinking about it," said Ted. "Let 'em out!"
A prick of the spur sent their horses forward on the leap.
Ted was coiling his rope in his hand ready for a cast, and Stella and Bud followed his example.
"When we get close enough to throw, scatter out, and be ready to let your rope go if either of us misses. All ready now!"
Ted dashed forward, swinging his rope around his head, and when he was close enough he made a beautiful cast and the rope went through the air as true as a bullet, hovering in a sinuous loop above White Fang. But just as it was about to settle the wily old rascal dodged to one side, and the rope fell into the sand.
"He's a cute chap," shouted Ted, bringing in his rope without slackening his speed, while Bud's rope flew through the air and missed the wolf by about a foot.
Stella was in a bad position to throw, and withheld her rope.
Again they closed in upon the wolf, who had begun to grow more wary and had hit up his speed, dodging and turning on his trail, making some swift turns and nimble feats of horsem
anship necessary to keep within roping distance of him.
In this manner a dozen or more unsuccessful casts were made.
At last Ted got tired of the hide-and-seek game, and determined to end it.
"I'm going to get him this time," he shouted, gathering his rope firmly. "Back me up!"
He dashed at White Fang, with Bud and Stella on either side of him. Swinging his rope about his head, Ted watched his opportunity.
Suddenly the loop left his hand and shot as unerringly toward the wolf as if it had left the muzzle of a rifle.
It soared through the air like a thing of life, twisting as gracefully and sinuously as a serpent. For an instant the wide loop hovered over the gray, swiftly running animal. Then it fell suddenly, and settled over and around the seemingly doomed animal.
But White Fang, king of the pack, was too old a villain to be caught so easily. He leaped through the loop of Ted's lariat like a circus performer through a hoop.
But Stella's rope whizzed through the air and caught the old fellow unawares.
Then it seemed as if all the forces of wild nature had been turned loose.
The wolf leaped into the air as he felt the rope tighten around his neck, and threw himself here and there with a violence inconceivable, snapping at the rope and trying to sever it. But Stella's lariat was of Mexican rawhide, and even White Fang's sharp teeth had no effect on it.
The rope tightened and slacked in the struggle, and, had it been of ordinary texture, it would never have stood the strain.
Ted had ridden up to the plunging beast, and began to belabor it with his quirt, to take the spirit out of it. The wolf had never felt the sting of a whip before. It was such a new experience to it that it stopped bucking in sheer amazement. But Ted did not discontinue, and the wolf slunk upon the ground, its wild nature thoroughly tamed for the time.
"Stop!" cried Stella. "Let us see what he will do now."
Ted rode away, and the wolf sat up on its haunches, and, lifting its head toward the mountains, gave a long, wailing, dismal howl.
"He knows he's done for," said Ted. "That's his death song."
"Let him do what he will," cried Stella.
Ted Strong in Montana Page 18
