The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 13

"There's something queer about this Thomas," Adrian told himself; "he's been in a peck of trouble somewhere, and is afraid of somebody; because he's forever looking around, and starts every time any one speaks. But he isn't the kind to be afraid of, and he sure does need helping along.

I'll take him as far as the ranch house, anyway, and see what Uncle Fred can do for him."

And with that he forgot all about the man for the time being, because there were so many other important things that came crowding into his mind.

After lunch they again mounted, Donald now taking the lame pilgrim up behind him for a change; and when the punchers had started the herd along, the journey toward Bar-S Ranch was resumed, with a prospect that another hour might see them bringing up at their destination.

CHAPTER XV.

FACE TO FACE AT THE CORRAL.

It appeared that that fine lunch had made the lame man feel a thousand per cent better. The coffee had gone to the right spot, and warmed up his heart, so that he really looked like a different man.

At the same time it developed that Thomas was something of a master-hand at talking, just as he claimed to be with figures. As he rode there behind Donald he kept up a perpetual flow of chattering, and his own adventures in the past, "further south," as he described it, made up the main theme.

It seemed as though he had indeed been through a heap of trouble, and so far as his accounts went, he was never to blame for the distressing things that happened to him. A ruffian had waylaid him, and robbed him of his hard-earned savings, besides badly using him, so that he was still lame. Then back of that he had been set upon by a band of outlaws, who made him a prisoner, gave it out that he was dead, and for a whole year and more he had been forced to wait on them in their mountain cave, a regular slave.

He entertained Donald with a glowing account of how he had finally managed to stupefy the whole band with some drug he found among their plunder, and in this fashion made his escape. How much of this was true, and what portion ought to be laid to the fancy of an overwrought brain the boy could not tell. He simply put the fellow down as a timid man who liked to boast of things he claimed to have accomplished in the past, which could not be proven either way.

And Donald, too, believed that Thomas was a harmless fellow, given to boasting somewhat, perhaps, or telling extravagant tales about himself, but not at all dangerous.

In turn the other managed to ask a few questions concerning what their intended destination might be like. He had heard about Mr. Comstock being a generous man, and had started out to see if he could not find employment at the Bar-S Ranch. And if these young gentlemen happened to have a personal acquaintance with the manager of the place perhaps they might say a good word for him.

When he learned that Adrian was really the sole owner of the ranch the pilgrim entreated Donald to urge his chum to think kindly of a poor wretch who had been so long the football of fate.

Donald said he would, and hoped thus to get the other to stop talking; but now it was a shower of thanks which continued to fall from the lips of Thomas; who vowed again and again that never during the course of a long and adventurous career had he chanced to run across three such fine young fellows as these with whom his fortunes seemed bound up.

Tired at last of the everlasting flow of language Donald told the man to stop talking, as he had some very important details to figure out; and this apparently warned Thomas that he had better forego the pleasure of detailing other wonderful happenings which had come to him in the past; for he certainly did fall into a condition of silence.

A shout from Billie announced that the ranch buildings had been sighted ahead. This caused Donald and Adrian to dash on ahead of the cattle, for they wanted to be in a position to see all that went on.

As the bound rustler had said, likewise Frank Bowker, when he wished he might have an opportunity of witnessing their arrival, there was liable to be something interesting doing about that time.

Already looking far ahead they could see that the news of their coming must have percolated among the ranch buildings, and the bunk houses; for mounted punchers were dashing this way and that, as though greatly excited, and unable to understand what had happened to bring the lost herd trailing home. Those rustlers had never before been known to let loose their grip on a bunch of cattle, once they stampeded the same.

Nearer they pushed, so that it was now easy to hear the yells of the boys, who would ride out toward them, take a good look, and then gallop madly back toward the buildings as though pursued by a prairie fire.

"Looks like they just couldn't believe their eyes," remarked Billie, who was of a certainty enjoying the prospect of some excitement ahead, and trying to settle in his mind whether or not there would be a fight then and there between their little company and those of the Bar-S punchers who were really in the pay of the Walker gang, and doing about as they pleased, while the "missus" kept the little manager under her thumb.

"And this is only the beginning of the row!" declared Donald, grimly.

"Wait till the lady comes out to see what all the racket means; and around that time there'll be excitement worth talking about. She may have your Uncle Fred nailed down where she wants him, because he's her husband, and she's taught him to do what she tells him; but it's going to be a different thing when the owner of the ranch happens along. Whew!

ain't they worked up to top-notch speed, though?"

"I'm trying to figure out in my mind," remarked Adrian, "just from seeing how those punchers act, which of them are with the Walker crowd, and which can be depended on to back me up, if it comes to choosing a boss."

"And how do you make out?" asked Donald, eagerly; "will the big end swing for or against us, do you believe, Adrian?"

"So far," replied the other, "as well as I can tell from here, it's about an even toss-up all around. Where one puncher looks scowling and mad, there's another ready to throw his hat up, and yell with joy at seeing the long-horns coming back, when everybody counted them lost for keeps."

"But none of them suspect that you're here?" interposed Billie.

"Of course not; how could they, when even my uncle is resting under the belief that Adrian Sherwood is right now away down under the hot sun of Arizona, hanging his hat on a peg in the Keystone Ranch building."

"You don't see him yet, do you, Adrian, or the lady either, for that matter?" continued Billie, wild with impatience to witness that remarkable meeting when his chum would come face to face with the once strong-minded manager of the cattle ranch, but who was now a slave to petticoat rule as inst.i.tuted by the sister of Hatch Walker, known at the time of her second marriage as the Widow Smeed.

"Not yet, but soon," replied the other, who was rising in his stirrups, the better to see what was transpiring.

The trio of punchers who had been hired by Adrian to a.s.sist him in his work of reconstruction at Bar-S Ranch went about their business of shunting the cattle into the corrals as though they had worked here for years, and knew all the ropes; but then it was all a part of their stock in trade, and one ranch is pretty much like another, wherever cattle are raised for the market.

A couple of fellows belonging to the place took it upon themselves to lend a hand at turning the herd in at the proper moment, and by their actions informed Adrian that they were overjoyed to see the way things had turned out. He marked them down in his mind, and felt that here were a pair of worthy punchers, at least, on whom he might depend for aid when the time for choosing came.

Adrian also noticed that as they worked these fellows were forever twisting their heads around, and shooting anxious looks in the direction of the ranch house, just as though they antic.i.p.ated an eruption at any moment now, when affairs might be brought around to a crisis.

He wished he could only get a chance to inform them who he was, and make sure that they would stand by him when the explosion came. How Uncle Fred would act was altogether uncertain, as yet. Adrian remembered him as a fiery little man who could look furious when he wanted, and was deemed utterly fearless when it came to facing a leveled gun in the hand of a desperate cattle thief; but then that was a different thing to standing up before a screaming, angry woman, whom he dared not lay a hand on because of the fact that she was a member of the other s.e.x; while at the same time she was privileged, as his lawful spouse, to scratch and pound him to her heart's content.

Perhaps it was strange that with all this racket taking place those in the ranch house had not issued forth as yet, to ascertain what it meant.

But then cowboys are nearly always such a noisy set that one becomes accustomed to their wild whooping and yelling, and pays little attention to a sudden outburst of that kind.

But Billie knew it could not last.

"There, I saw a fellow skoot inside the house right then, Adrian!" he suddenly cried; "and chances are he'll hand 'em the information that the stampeded herd is safe back again. If that gle-orious news don't fetch 'em out on the licketty-split run then I don't know beans. Just you watch and see what's going to happen! Hey! see that, would you? I guess now that little fellow might be your one-time _fe_-rocious Uncle Fred, what's been sat down on by the woman's rights rule. See him shade his eyes with his hand, and stare at the cattle, as if he reckoned he might be plumb locoed. And now he's started on the full run this way, to find out what happened. They never had a stolen bunch of stock come back before, you see; and that's what makes 'em crazy over it. It seems too good to be true, to some of these fellows; while others are looking as black as the inside of my hat, and saying all sorts of bad things among themselves. Here he comes, Adrian; now get ready to push back the brim of your hat, and let Uncle Fred recognize you!"

Adrian was hardly listening to all these excited remarks on the part of the fat chum. With Donald close beside him, still mounted on his pony, he awaited the coming of the ranch manager, now running swiftly toward the spot where they had halted.

"And there she sprints after him!" gasped Billie; "Oh! My! Now mebbe we are going to see high jinks? Here, hold on, Mr. Thomas, what you sliding out like that for? They won't hurt you, so long as my chum says you can stay!"

But the man they had picked up on the trail did not seem to fancy the looks of things, for he made the utmost haste to limp over to the nearest bunk house, around which he hurried so as to lose his ident.i.ty in the crowd that was gathering.

Mr. Comstock was small, but he had a fierce look, with his white mustache and goatee, and bold features; only when his wife spoke was he ever known to tremble and throw out the white flag of surrender.

"Here, what's all this mean?" he called out, sternly, as he came up.

"Who brought these cattle back again? I want to thank him for it, no matter who says I hadn't ought to," with a quick, nervous glance behind him, though just at the moment the advancing figure of the woman was concealed by a group of interested cow-punchers.

And as he kept on advancing toward those who were seated in their saddles, the manager of the Bar-S Ranch suddenly looked into the face of Adrian Sherwood!

CHAPTER XVI.

A THREATENING STORM.

The fierce looking small man with the shock of white hair, and the air of a Buffalo Bill, stood there as though riveted to the spot, and stared at the smiling face of Adrian.

As a result of figuring things out the boy had come to the conclusion that his relative must be a victim of circ.u.mstances, and too much wife; therefore he was in a frame of mind not to judge him too harshly until he could get a grasp on the real situation.