Jack Ranger's Western Trip Part 39

"No! No! Don't!" exclaimed Mr. Lantry. "I must tell you alone. Come closer. I am weak, and I must whisper to you what I have to say. No one else must hear."

Jack sat down in a chair beside the bed, and the old man, looking carefully around the room, as though he feared some one would hear his secret, began:

"Your father and I have lived for the past three years in a little hut, hidden in the Golden Glow mountains. He never ventured far away, and what few trips to town were necessary I made. Some time ago your father became sick. I am a rough sort of doctor, and I knew he needed some remedies for the heart. I managed to get them, and Roberts (I always call him by that name) grew better. But about a month ago the medicine got low, and I knew I must get more. You see, I only made two trips to civilization a year, one in the spring and one in the fall. In winter it is impossible to get out of the gorge where we live.

"I knew then I must start on my summer trip earlier than usual, for the medicine in the shack would only last about two months. So I made ready to go."

"But tell me how to get to where my father is," interrupted Jack.

"That is important. I must hurry to him."

"Wait a minute," spoke the old man. His brain was feeble and Jack realized if he hurried or confused the sufferer he might get no information at all.

"I started away from the shack, as I said," Mr. Lantry resumed. "I rode my horse when I was able and led him when it was too rough. I had not traveled many miles before I realized that I was being followed. I caught several glimpses of two men, who kept close on my trail, and, try as I did, I could not shake them off."

"Were they members of the timber gang?" asked Jack eagerly.

"They were," replied Mr. Lantry. "I will be brief now, as I am getting weak. I hurried on, but the men kept after me. They closed in on me in a lonely place about fifteen miles from here, I judge."

"What did they want?" asked Jack.

"They demanded that I lead them to where your father was. They knew they could never find the place without a guide, for, doubtless, they had often attempted it. We had the shack well hidden, your father and I. Of course I refused to show them the way. And they threatened to torture me, but I only laughed. Then in sudden anger one of the men fired at me. The bullet went wild as his companion knocked his arm down in time, but it struck me in the foot. Then the men rode away.

"I managed to keep on my horse until I fell off from weakness. Then my animal wandered away and I had to crawl. I got as far as the rock and was waiting there, hoping some one would come along, when you found me."

"How long is it since you left my father?" asked Jack.

"It is a little over three weeks."

"And perhaps he is in want and suffering now," the boy cried. "I must hurry to him. Tell me which way to go," and Jack sprang up, as though to start at once in the dead of night.

"You must ride until--until you--until you see--you see-"

The old man's voice had been growing weaker and weaker. The last words came from him in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, and, with a feeble moan he fell back on the pillow, with closed eyes.

"He's dead! Help! Help!" exclaimed Jack.

Mr. Kent and several cowboys came running into the room. Mr. Kent placed his hand over the sufferer's heart.

"He is alive, but that's all," he said. "Jim, ride for the doctor."

"He never told me how to find my father," said Jack in a low voice.

"Oh, if he would only live until he can tell me that! I must go to him! He may be sick or dead, all alone in his cabin!"

"Now don't you go to fretting, son," said Mr. Kent kindly. "You just come away from here and go to bed. You're all tired out and worried.

This thing will all come out right. The old man may not be so bad off as he seems. We'll get a doctor for him, and he'll fix him up so he can tell you where your father is. If he doesn't I'll send the boys out, and they'll go over all the mountain ranges hereabouts. They can find a maverick in the wildest country you ever saw, and it would be a pity if they couldn't locate a cabin, with all you know about where it is."

Jack felt encouraged at this, and said he would go to bed and try to sleep. His companions had retired, as he learned when he got back to the sitting room.

"I'll give you a room on the quiet side of the house," said Mr. Kent.

"You can change after to-night if you like."

He rang a bell, summoning the Chinese cook, who it appeared "was housekeeper and general upstairs girl as well," and gave orders that a certain room should be made ready for Jack.

"That loom, him sleep by Cactus Ike," said the Chinese.

"Never mind whether Cactus Ike is going to sleep there or not," said Mr, Kent sharply. "You tell Ike he can bunk in with the rest of the boys. He's no better than they are."

"Me sabe," replied the Celestial.

Jack was too tired to pay much attention to this conversation. Nor did he attach any significance to a talk he heard under his windows a little later.

"What's the matter with Ike?" he dimly heard some one ask.

"Mad 'cause he got turned out of his room for one of them tenderfoot kids," was the answer. "I wouldn't want to get Ike down on me."

"Aw, he's a big bluff."

"He is, eh? Well, you wait."

But, in spite of his troubles and worriment over his father, Jack was soon asleep from sheer weariness, and when morning came he forgot there was such a person as Cactus Ike.

A doctor arrived from Fillmore about breakfast time and examined Mr.

Lantry. He said the old man was very sick, and would be for some time. He was out of his head, from fever, and might be so for three weeks. With careful nursing he would recover, said the medical man, and he left some remedies.

"We'll see that he gets well," spoke Mr. Kent. "I'll have the cook look after him, for I guess it will be hard to get a nurse out here."

"If he only recovers his reason, so he can tell me what I want to know," Jack murmured.

"Oh, he will," said Nat's uncle, confidently. "In the meanwhile you will have to be patient. Your father is in no danger now, for his partner did not count on getting back in over a month, and there was medicine enough in the cabin to last until then. Otherwise there is nothing to fear. You tell me the land stealers can't find the shack, so what else is there to worry about?"

"Nothing, I suppose," replied Jack, but, somehow, he couldn't help worrying.

"Cheer up," said Mr. Kent. "We'll get your father for you. In the meantime while we are waiting for the old man to get well you must learn ranch life, and get good and strong, so that if you do have to take part in a hunt for him you will be able to stand roughing it."

Jack thought this was good advice, as did his chums. They raced out of the house after breakfast, determined to see all there was to see.

But this, they found, would take a long time.

Mr. Kent's ranch took in about a thousand acres. Some of it was on the first plateau, and part among the hills, where the cattle grazed.

Besides the house, there were stables for the horses, kennels for the dogs, a cook house, a dining shack, the sides of which could be thrown open in the summer, barns for hay and grain, and a big tall windmill that pumped water.

"Can we have regular horses while we're here?" asked Nat of his uncle, as he and his chums started for the stable yard.

"Sure," replied Mr. Kent "You just go over there and tell Rattlesnake Jim I said he was to fit you out with a horse and saddle each. He knows which will be the best for you, better than I do. I don't have time to keep track of the animals. I'm going to be busy all the morning, so you can do as you please, within reason. Don't stampede the cattle, that's all," and he turned away with a laugh.

The boys looked around the stable enclosure for their friend Jim, but he was not to be seen.

"Lookin' for any one?" inquired a tall cowboy, who appeared from under the shed. He had small, black shifty eyes, and when he spoke he looked anywhere but at one.

"Where's Mr.--er--Mr. Rattlesnake Jim?" asked Nat. He was not exactly sure how to address, or speak of the cowboys with their queer t.i.tles.