The Boy Ranchers on the Trail Part 11

Together they rode on, circling to the right to get around the edge of the fire.

"She's dying out," observed d.i.c.k.

"Yes, it can't burn much longer," admitted Bud. "And no great damage done, either, unless we find something we haven't yet seen."

But when they had completed the circuit around the edge of the blazing gra.s.s, and could ride across the fire-blackened area, and behind what was still a thick screen of smoke, they saw something which caused them great surprise.

This was not the sight of a bunch of stampeding cattle, though it was what Bud and his cousins folly; expected to encounter. There were some cattle on this side of the fire, but they had run far enough away to be out of danger, and beyond where they could be frightened into a frenzied rush.

"Look!" exclaimed Nort, pointing.

"Four Eyes!" exclaimed d.i.c.k.

"By the great horned toad and Zip Foster--yes!" agreed Bud, and his cousins knew he must be stirred to unusual depths of feeling to use this name. Zip Foster had not been mentioned in several weeks. The mysterious personage, on whom Bud called in times of great excitement, was almost a stranger, of late, in Happy Valley. In fact d.i.c.k and Nort never could get Bud to talk about Zip. But that is a story which will be told in its proper place, and due season.

"It _is_ Four Eyes!" went on Bud, as he and his cousins recognized in the form of a distant rider that of Henry Mellon, the new cowboy. "And what he's doing here is more than I can imagine. I'm going to find out, though!"

The spectacled cow puncher was riding swiftly along, on a course that ran parallel to the direction of the fire. He was on the edge of the burned area, and galloping-away from the boys. But he was not beyond seeing or hailing distance.

"h.e.l.lo there!" shouted Bud, dropping his reins and making a megaphone of his hands.

Four Eyes heard the call--there was no doubt of that, for he turned in his saddle and looked back. Then he must have seen the boys, for he waved his hat at them. Next he pointed ahead, as if to indicate that he was in pursuit of some one, and kept on, never slacking his pace.

"Come on!" shouted the impulsive Nort. "Let's catch up to him!"

He was about to spur his pony forward, but Bud caught the bridle.

"No use," said the western lad. "He's too far ahead, and our horses are too played out If he comes back well hear about it. If he doesn't--"

"Why, don't you think he'll come back!" interrupted Pick.

"It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't," Bud answered. "There are some queer things going on around here, and he may be one of 'em.

Though I haven't any reason to suspect him--yet!" he quickly added.

"What are we going to do!" asked d.i.c.k, as he saw his cousin slacking his pony's pace. "Shall we go on to the end of the rustler's trail, or follow Four Eyes."

"Neither one," answered Bud. "At least not just yet," he added, as he saw Nort and d.i.c.k look at him curiously. "Let Four Eyes go, for the time being. He may have seen some cowboys he'd like to interview about this fire, and be after them. Or he may not. As for getting on the trail of the rustlers, we'd have to ride back quite a distance to do that, and it would be dark when we picked it up again. Too late to do anything."

"Are we going back to camp?" asked d.i.c.k.

"No, let's stay right here. We've got grub, and water isn't so far off. We'll just camp out for the night."

"Suits me," a.s.sented d.i.c.k.

"Same here," agreed Nort.

It was something the boys had often done. They carried blankets and tarpaulins on their saddles, ready for this emergency, and they "packed" sufficient rations for several substantial, if not elaborate, meals. They had a coffee pot, a frying pan, bacon and prepared flour, and flapjacks were within their range of abilities as cooks.

Pausing to note that the fire was rapidly dying out, that there was no cattle stampede in their vicinity, and noting that Four Eyes was now almost out of sight, the boy ranchers rode on to the nearest water-hole, and there prepared to spend the night, though it was still several hours until darkness should fall. But the horses were tired, for they had been run hard after the fire, and the boys decided to rest them. The lads, themselves, were fresh enough to have kept on, had there been occasion for it.

"Well, I'm glad this was no worse," observed Bud, as they sat down, having picketed their steeds, and looked at the receding pall of smoke. "I only hope the fellows at camp won't be worried."

"I guess they know we can take care of ourselves--at least we have so far," spoke Nort.

"Yes," agreed Bud. "You fellows have done pretty well since you came out here--you aren't tenderfeet any longer, not by all the shots that ever broke bottles."

"Say, what do you think of that, anyhow?" asked d.i.c.k, as he chewed reflectively on a bit of gra.s.s.

"I don't know what to think," a.s.serted Bud. "There are a lot of serious questions we have to settle if we're going to keep on with this ranch."

"Why, we are going to keep on, aren't we?" asked Nort.

"I should say so!" cried Bud. "We're going to stick here, rustlers or not! And those are the only fellows I'm worrying about," and he tossed a lump of dirt in the fire which d.i.c.k was starting.

"Are there always rustlers to worry about on a ranch?" asked Nort.

"More or less," answered his cousin. "Especially when you have a place so near Double Z. I don't accuse Hank Fisher of being a rustler, exactly," he went on, "though I think Del Pinzo is.

That's been proved, but it didn't do much good, for he broke jail and they can't seem to land him."

"What makes Hank Fisher and that Double Z bunch so sore at you?"

asked d.i.c.k.

"I guess it's because we're beating them at the cattle game,"

answered Bud. "And because dad dammed the Pocut River and took some water for this valley. As if that hurt Hank!" he added. "But he makes that an excuse. However, I'll fight him to the finish!"

"And we're with you!" added d.i.c.k and Nort.

After supper they sat around the fire, talking of various matters. But ever and again the question troubled them of whether or not they could get on the trail of the rustlers. And, too, they wondered what could be the object of Four Eyes.

Night settled down, quiet save for the occasional snorting of the ponies. The boys wrapped themselves in their blankets and crawled between their tarpaulins with their feet to the smouldering fire.

They talked until drowsiness stole over them and then, having decided to maintain no watch, they all three slumbered.

What time it was that Bud awakened he did not know. But awaken he did, and suddenly.

And the cause of his awakening was the sound of a horse rapidly ridden, and, evidently, approaching the place where he and his cousins had camped for the night.

"Who's there?" cried Bud suddenly, and without preface. Under the blanket his hand sought his weapon.

"Who's there!"

CHAPTER XI

THE WATCH TOWER