The Boy Ranchers on Roaring River Part 12

The horses were quickly calmed. a.s.sured by the presence of their masters that they were safe, they soon stopped quivering, and breathed easier. A good horse trusts implicitly in his rider.

"I'll take 'em over nearer the house," declared the Kid. "They'll feel better when they get movin'. By the way--wonder what happened to our cook? Last time I saw him he was fryin' bacon. Take a run to the kitchen, d.i.c.k, and look, will you?"

"Sure. Say, there's one shack down," d.i.c.k said as he pointed to the wreck of a small building.

"Probably was a bunk house. We won't need one of those for a while, anyway. Well, will you look at that roof!" The Kid indicated another out-house. Its roof was turned directly around, so that the back was where the front should be. Not a board on it was broken.

"Looks like a crazy-house down at Coney Island!" laughed Nort. "d.i.c.k, I thought you were going to see about eats? I'm starved."

d.i.c.k walked toward the kitchen. Before he got there the aroma of cooking bacon told the waiting cowboys that the Mexican was still on the job.

"Must have the whole place full of food by this time," Bud commented.

"Think I'll take another look around, Kid. Billee, you want to come along? I just want to make sure we haven't missed anything."

The two set off on a tour of inspection. It was growing dark now, and it would soon be too late to repair that night anything that was damaged.

"Guess we haven't lost much," Bud said to the veteran rancher. "We're pretty lucky, eh, Billee?"

"Sure are! We'll just look around the corner of this building, however, and then go back. I'm sort of hungry myself."

"Me too. Hope that Mex has--" Bud broke off suddenly. He peered hard at the earth in the shadow of the shack. Then he walked swiftly over.

On the ground lay the body of a man, face down. Bud grasped him gently by the arm and turned him over. On his forehead was a long cut, from which blood was flowing. Bud looked sharply at his face, then started back in surprise.

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he said slowly. "It's Delton!"

CHAPTER X

BUD FINDS A NOTE

Billee Dobb approached deliberately and gazed long and earnestly into the face of the rec.u.mbent man.

"So that's Delton, is it?" he said. "He sure took a funny way to come back. Wonder if he's--" the rancher stooped swiftly and laid his hand on the breast of the man. "Nope! Still living. We'd better get him to the house soon as possible. Grab hold there, Bud."

Lifting him as gently as they could, so they might not cause the blood to flow more strongly, they carried the injured man toward the ranch house. They laid him on the couch in the living-room, which was known as the "parlor," and generally reserved for funerals.

"I'll get some water and bandages--if I can find any," said Bud when he had disposed of his burden.

"That white shirt of the Kid's will do," Billee suggested as Bud made for the door. "He's got it rolled up in his saddle pack."

The man on the couch seemed to be breathing more strongly now. The blood from the cut had partly clotted, and the flow was greatly diminished. But a glance at his face showed that he was in a very weak condition.

"Must have been lyin' out there quite a spell," Billee commented, as Bud returned with the shirt and a basin of water. The news of the unconscious visitor had traveled fast, for d.i.c.k, Nort and the Kid followed Bud into the room.

"Who is he?" asked the Kid as he bent over. "Little feller, ain't he?"

"Recognize him, d.i.c.k?" Bud said, kneeling down by the man's side and dipping one end of the shirt in his basin.

"No, can't say that I--yes I do, too! It's the fellow that was here when we came--the one who offered us the thousand! It's 'J. D.'!"

"Right. We found him lying over by a shack, dead to the world. Billee and I carried him in here. Seems to have a nasty cut, but I don't believe it's dangerous. Way he talked to me here awhile ago, he's too ornery to die."

"Must have been caught in the big wind," Nort said. "Hit by a board, probably."

"So that's Delton, hey?" Yellin' Kid drawled. "Well, mister, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. You don't look pertikerly dangerous to me. But you can't tell about these quiet ones. Liable to fly up any minute. Don't wash that blood off, Bud! Leave it lay. Have him bleedin' again if you don't watch out. Nort, mosey out an' see if that dumb Mex has got the coffee ready. Bring in some, will you? Leave the 'Canned cow' out of it. When this boy wakes up he wants something strong."

The man's eyes opened for a minute, then closed again. The dusk outside was settling rapidly now, and the room was growing darker.

d.i.c.k ran to the kitchen and returned with a lighted candle, which he held close to the head of the rec.u.mbent figure. By this time their visitor had regained consciousness, and was staring wide-eyed at the group surrounding the couch--three men leaning expectantly over his body, while a fourth held a lighted candle aloft like a weird statue.

Little wonder that a man awaking to such surroundings would be somewhat bewildered.

"How do you feel, mister?" Yellin' Kid asked solicitously when he saw that Delton was conscious.

"Not so--good," was the jerky answer. "Stomach--sick--head feels--"

"Swally this," urged Billee holding to his lips the steaming coffee Nort had brought from the kitchen. "Sure it's hot! Don't want cold sody, do ya? 'At's-a-boy--drink 'er down! Better now?"

"Yea," the man answered in a weak voice. "What happened? Woolworth tower fall on me? Wow! What a head! Seems to me I remember takin' a subway train at Times Square--or was that last year? Can't just think straight now----"

"New York," whispered Bud to d.i.c.k. "Thought he didn't look like a westerner!"

"Just you lay quiet," advised Yellin' Kid. "Won't do you a bit of good to talk now. Got lots of time to do that. You stay here to-night, an'----"

"I remember now! That storm! I was riding over toward the Shootin'

Star ranch, when the sky got black, and that dumb-bell horse of mine started to act up. The next minute I got hit by a ton of bricks."

He was silent a moment, thinking.

"Say--" he suddenly propped himself up on one elbow and glanced around.

"I know where I am! Yes. And I know you--and you!" pointing at Bud and d.i.c.k. "You're the two galoots that--oh!" he finished weakly, and sank back. He closed his eyes again. It was not evident to the watchers whether he had really fainted, or whether he realized he was talking too much.

At all events it was useless to expect him to say more. At Bud's suggestion he was carried upstairs, and after his heavier clothing had been removed he was laid in one of the beds. He seemed to be resting easily, and if his sleepy att.i.tude was simulated at first, it certainly was not now, as his regular breathing and relaxed condition indicated.

"Better let him sleep," d.i.c.k said in a low voice. "He'll be all right when he wakes up. The bleeding from his head has stopped, and if he had anything else the matter he would have told us. I think we'd all better eat. Let's get out of here, anyway--we'll disturb him if we talk much."

"Eat!" exclaimed the Kid when they had all left the room wherein Delton lay. "Let's see now--have I heard that word before, or did I dream it?

Believe me, when I sit down to this chow nothin' is goin' to drag me away--fire, wind or flood! Seems like that Mex cook of ours is a hoodoo. Every time we start to eat something happens."

"Guess we'll go through with it all right this time," d.i.c.k remarked with a laugh. "Here we are, boys. Set! And go to it! Enough bacon here for an army. Kid, go easy on that bread! You want to choke?"

The five were seated around a table in the rear of the house. In the middle of the table was a huge plate of bacon, and next to this was a mess of beans, steaming hot. Bread, b.u.t.ter, coffee and condensed milk or "Canned cow" completed the repast.

"Wonder where the Mex got all this food?" Nort asked as he reached for the bread. "Real good, anyhow. Guess we'd better keep the Greaser, if he'll stay."

"Keep him 'til we get settled," added d.i.c.k. "I don't exactly like his looks. He's too much like the Mex that Joe Hawkins pointed out--the one he said to watch out for--remember?--to suit me."