Cowmen and Rustlers Part 36

She pulled slightly on the reins and he dropped to a walk. At the same moment something dark moved aside, the pony diverting his own steps to avoid it. She experienced a slight shock of fright, but recognized the object as one of the cattle probably belonging to their own herd.

Others showed dimly here and there as the horse carefully picked his way forward.

"Halloo, who's that?" called a gruff voice from the darkness, the hail proving more startling than the first surprise.

"It is I, Jennie Whitney," replied the young lady, "and I am searching for help."

"Well, I'll be hanged! What's up, Miss Jennie?"

It was Budd Hankinson who came forward on foot, his figure appearing of gigantic proportions in the gloom. He was more alarmed than she, as he had warrant for being, knowing, as he did, that some extraordinary cause must have brought the girl to this place alone at that hour of the night.

She quickly told her story, explaining that Fred was held a prisoner by the rustlers, else he would have hastened back to secure the a.s.sistance for which she was looking.

"You're a brave girl," said the honest fellow, as he laid his hand on the reins of the pony; "there are mighty few that would have done what you've done to-night."

"Never mind about that, Budd, but tell me what to do."

"Why, you mustn't do anything; I'll do the rest."

"No, you may help me, but what is it to be?"

"Luck's running your way, Jennie; the stockmen have moved their camp since Fred left this morning."

"Mercy! I thought I had only two or three miles farther to go."

"Their camp isn't more'n half a mile off, right over the swell yonder; we'll be there in a jiffy."

"And you will go with me?"

"Wal, I reckon; what sort of a chap do you take me for?"

"Where is Weber?"

"Three miles to the south, which is in t'other direction; we won't have time to look him up, and it wouldn't do any good if we did. We made a change of grazing grounds, as I s'pose Fred told you, but some of the cattle strayed off here and I was looking 'em up when I heard your pony."

"Where's your horse?"

"Not far; wait here and I'll be right back."

He was gone but a few minutes, when he returned in the saddle.

"It won't do to go too fast," he explained, moving forward with his animal on a walk, "but we can keep beside each other."

Riding thus carefully, he questioned her about the stirring incidents at the house, and she gave him the particulars. The sagacious fellow had seen before this how matters stood between her and Monteith Sterry, and he knew her anxiety, but his good taste prevented any reference to it further than to say:

"I hope Mont will be too wise to try to slip out of the house, for if he does he's sure to be grabbed up by them, and they won't give him a chance for his life."

"Do you think he will make the attempt, Budd?"

"No, now that he knows you have started, for you've got a mighty sight better chance to succeed than he could have. Of course he has too much sense for anything of the kind."

It was well that neither of them suspected the truth.

"There they are!"

They had reached the top of the elevation, and saw before them the twinkling lights of several camp-fires. The stockmen, fully understanding the nature of the work they had undertaken, conducted themselves like a force invading a hostile country. Regular sentinels were stationed, to prevent the insidious approach of an enemy.

The couple rode down the hill, and, as they expected, were challenged on the edge of the camp. Inasmuch as Budd had visited the men during the day and formed numerous acquaintances, he had little difficulty in making himself known. All, excepting the guards, had retired for the night, but the visitor was conducted to the place where Maj. Sitgraves was asleep, Jennie remaining on the outskirts with one of the sentinels, who treated her with all courtesy.

Maj. Sitgraves was a brave man, who had only to hear the story brought to him by the honest cowboy to understand the urgency of the case. It was now near midnight, and the attack at the ranch was liable to be made at any moment. The stockmen could not reach the scene of danger too soon.

Almost instantly the camp was astir. It looked as if the men had received orders to attack a force of Indians, whose location was just made known to them, and, in point of fact, the situation was somewhat similar, for a brisk fight appeared inevitable. Three rustlers whom the major was particularly anxious to arrest were Ira Inman, Larch Cadmus and Duke Vesey, and he especially wanted the first two. They were with the party not far off, and, aside from the call for help of the imperilled stockmen, the prospect of capturing those fellows was sufficient warrant for a prompt movement.

Within half an hour after Jennie Whitney's meeting with Budd Hankinson the party of half a hundred were galloping westward, she riding at the head, with Maj. Sitgraves and Budd, who acted as guide to the expedition.

Hope arose with every rod advanced, for if fighting had begun the reports of the guns would be heard, but the listening ears failed to catch the first hostile sound from the Whitney ranch. By and by a point was reached which would have shown them the flash of the guns, but the gloom remained impenetrable.

The twinkling camp-fire, at the base of the ridge, gave just the guidance needed, and, with Budd Hankinson's intimate knowledge of the country, enabled the force to tell exactly where they were.

Maj. Sitgraves decided to defer his attack until daylight, unless the safety of the beleaguered cattlemen should force him to a.s.sault sooner. In the darkness, with the open country around, and the excellent animals at the command of the rustlers, most of them would escape upon learning the strength of the a.s.sailants. At the earliest dawn the stockmen could be so placed that, as the commander believed, nearly if not quite all of the law-breakers would be corralled.

Accordingly, a halt was made while yet a considerable way off, and Budd Hankinson went forward on foot to reconnoitre. Upon his report must depend the action of the stockmen.

The fellow was gone more than three-quarters of an hour, and when he came back he brought astounding news.

Not a solitary rustler was to be found anywhere near the ranch.

Hardly able to credit the fact, Budd picked his way to the building, knocked, and was admitted. There the amazing truth was made known.

Capt. Ira Inman and all his men had been gone for an hour, and were probably miles distant at that moment.

The detention of Duke Vesey as a hostage for the safety of Monteith Sterry proved the key to the whole situation. When Inman learned how he had been outwitted he was enraged to the point of ordering an attack at once, with the resolve to give mercy to no one. He even threatened to visit his fury upon Fred Whitney, who had shown such punctilious regard for his parole, for it would seem that under the circ.u.mstances he would have been warranted in staying behind with his friends.

But before taking so rash a step, the cooler judgment of the leader came to his rescue--He placed a high value on Duke Vesey, who had been a.s.sociated with him in several dangerous enterprises, and he knew that any harm done to Sterry would recoil on him, just as the grim Capt.

Asbury had threatened.

After prolonged discussion with Cadmus and others, it was decided to offer to exchange Sterry for Vesey. The proposition was accepted, and the exchange faithfully made, though considerable more delay was involved.

But while it was under way Inman learned of Jennie Whitney's flight toward the Big Horn Mountains. Keener of wit than Larch Cadmus, he suspected the truth at once, though he knew nothing of the proximity of the stockmen.

Before making the attack and attempt to burn the building he sent out two of his best mounted men in the direction taken by her, to investigate. They did so with such skill that neither Budd Hankinson nor any of the stockmen suspected them. They returned with news of the approach of a body too powerful for them to think of combating. They therefore fled in the darkness, the promptness of the leaders probably hastened by the knowledge that they were the parties for whom the stockmen were looking.

And so ended the campaign. The situation had been critical for a long time, and there were moments, time and again, when the most trifling incident intervened to avert a fearful conflict between men of the same race and blood; but all had now pa.s.sed, and it may be said that not so much as a hostile shot had been exchanged.

The main events of the troubles in Wyoming between the cowmen and rustlers are too well remembered to require recital at our hands. The expedition referred to in another place left Cheyenne in April for Nolan's Ranch, a hundred or more miles distant. Within the following month, the Sixth U.S. Cavalry brought all of them back to Cheyenne as prisoners of war, thus saving them from extermination at the hands of the indignant rustlers, who had them hemmed in on all sides.

Fred Whitney sold out his ranch, near the headwaters of Powder River, and moved eastward. He was not actuated by fear, for it will be conceded that he proved his courage, but he desired to take his loved mother and sister away from the sorrowful memories that must always cling to the place.

It will not surprise the reader to learn, further, that Monteith Sterry found it quite convenient to make his home in the same neighborhood with the Whitneys, and it was but a short time after this removal eastward that a most pleasing incident occurred in the lives of the young man and Miss Whitney, of the nature of which we are sure the reader does not need to be told.