Cowboy Dave; Or, The Round-up at Rolling River Part 22

"We've got to get the cattle off that range," said Mr. Carson. "Molick will have that dam in place again as soon as he can, and it will be the same story over again."

"That's what he will," a.s.sented the engineer. "And though I think you could stop him by legal action, it would take so long that your cattle would die of thirst. The best way is to remove them, and fight him afterward."

The pent-up waters were now rushing down their accustomed channel, and when the cattle range was reached the steers were drinking their fill.

Most of them had been saved, only a few died, but some choice ones were included in this number.

"And now for the big round-up!" exclaimed Mr. Carson, when the cattle, their thirst slaked, were willing to be driven on. "I'll move all my stock to some place where Molick can't kill them off. Then I'll fight him to the last ditch!"

"Hurrah!" cried Dave.

"Hurrah for the round-up!" yelled the cowboys. It meant hard work, but it meant excitement, too, and that was a large part of their lives.

CHAPTER XVIII

A MIDNIGHT BLAZE

Once the thirsty cattle had satisfied their longing for water, it was a comparatively easy matter to drive them from the temporary range where they had been sent to fatten. The river was running at its usual rate, but of course it could not be said how long this would continue.

"Len and his father will get busy and build that dam again," remarked Dave, as he and Mr. Bellmore, with Pocus Pete and the cowboys, herded the cattle together to drive them away.

"Yes, I suppose so, until we can take legal action against him," a.s.sented the water agent, who was rapidly learning the rudiments of cow-punching.

"And legal action is going to take a long time," said Mr. Carson. "I haven't done any more of it than I've had to in my life, but it is mighty slow action."

"But it is sure in the end," said Mr. Bellmore. "And I am positive that right is on your side."

"Well, we won't take any more chances with the cattle getting water here--at least for a while," said the ranch owner. "We'll make the main round-up while we're at it, and then we'll see what we can do. I'll sell off a big supply of steers, and that will mean less water will be required. Then I'll be in a better position to make a fight against Molick and his crowd."

"That's a good idea--reducing your cattle until the water matter is settled," the Chicago man said.

Talking and laughing among themselves, at the manner in which they had destroyed the dam, and let in the water to its former course, the cowboys rode along, driving the cattle. Not all who had been summoned for this work were needed to drive the steers, since they went willingly enough.

"So some of you had better ride on ahead to the ranch house, and get ready for the round-up tomorrow," said Mr. Carson. "There'll be busy times, then. And, too," he added in a low voice, "I rather want them around the place just at present."

"Why?" asked Dave.

"Oh, you never can tell what Molick will do," was the answer.

"You mean he might try to be revenged on you for opening the dam?" asked Mr. Bellmore.

"Something like that--yes. It wouldn't be the first time if a barn or bunk house or a pile of fodder should go up in smoke. Such things have occurred here."

"And was it never found out who did it?"

"Well, we had our suspicions. Almost always the one who suffered was on the outs with the Molick crowd."

"I think I'll ride back myself," Dave said. "I've got a few possessions I wouldn't like to have damaged."

"I'll go with you," offered Mr. Bellmore. "There are some valuable papers on this irrigation scheme that I wouldn't like to lose, or see fall into the hands of strangers."

"Oh, I don't really believe there is any danger," went on Mr. Carson. "I was just taking the utmost precaution. But ride on if you want to, Dave.

We can handle the cattle all right now, and I want to talk to Pocus Pete about the round-up."

So Dave and his friend rode on ahead, following some of the cowboys who had been summoned to tear away the dam. Now that the excitement was over Dave felt a little reaction, which generally follows high tension. As Dave looked at the young man riding beside him he could not help contrasting their two positions.

"I guess he knows all right who he is," mused Dave. "No worrying about his father and mother or about his future. As for me, I don't know whether I'm a rag-picker's son, or whether I came from a millionaire's family."

Yet, as he thought it over more soberly, Dave could not help thinking that he must have had as parents persons in that broad, and altogether desirable, middle cla.s.s.

"If they were millionaires they would hardly have been living in a small Missouri town," reasoned the young cowboy, "and if I came from rag-picker ancestors I'd have had on such ragged clothes that Mr. Carson would have noticed that and spoken of it. And that reminds me. I must ask him about the clothing I wore, and about how old I was. Maybe he kept the garments, and they might form a clew. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll ask Mr. Carson about it."

To himself Dave always thought of the ranchman as "Mr. Carson," though when he spoke he called him "Dad," for he did not want strangers to surmise concerning the secret, nor did he wish to hurt the man who had been a father to him.

"Anything wrong?" Inquired Mr. Bellmore, as they cantered along.

"Wrong? No. Why?" asked Dave, looking up suddenly.

"Why you're as glum as an owl, and as silent as one of these prairie dogs," went on the engineer. "You haven't said a word for over a mile. Is something troubling you?"

"Yes--that is, no!" exclaimed Dave. "I was--just thinking."

"Oh, I could see that," returned the other with a laugh. "Well, if it's anything about this water business, don't worry. Molick and his crowd may bother your father for a time, but Bar U ranch will win out--I'm sure of it!"

"I hope so," murmured Dave. "They're a mean crowd, though," and he thought of the cowardly taunt of Len Molick--the taunt which had first given him the clew to his lack of ident.i.ty.

"Well, I'll do all I can for you and your father," went on the engineer.

"I owe a great deal to you both. In fact I am convinced that I owe my life to you."

"Oh, pshaw!" deprecated Dave.

"Yes, that's a fact," went on Mr. Bellmore. "I might have lain caught there in that gully until I died, for it is a lonely place."

"Yes, that's true enough," agreed Dave.

"And so, in a small way, I'm going to do all I can to repay you," said the Chicago man. "I know something about water rights, irrigation and t.i.tle deeds to streams, even if I'm not much on the cowpunching," he added with a smile, "and such knowledge as I have is at your service."

"Well, I'm sure we'll appreciate it--dad and I," said Dave. "Now let's try a little run. Crow is just spoiling for a good gallop, and the way from here home is as fine a track as you'd want."

Calling to his horse, Dave set him at a gallop, being followed by Mr.

Bellmore on Kurd, and the two indulged in an impromptu race, reaching the ranch house at the same time.

"Hi there, Hop Loy!" called Dave. "Grub ready?"

"Alle same leady velly soon," said the amiable Chinese, with a cheerful grin, "How you like plan-cakes?"