The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 16

"Well," said Mr. Comstock, "if Hatch Walker was home the chances are the first thing he'd do would be to knock those unlucky punchers sky-high.

Depend on it the next time you come across any one of that bunch you'll notice black eyes in plenty."

"And then what else?" continued the boy.

"You see, Hatch, he's run things so long around here now, at his sweet will, that like as not he'll think of that bunch of cattle as belonging to him. And getting a lot of his boys together he'll even come swinging along this way to try to run 'em off the second time, and in broad daylight, too."

"Well, he certainly is a bold one for a fact, and it's about time he had his wings clipped!" declared the boy, surprised at the condition of affairs in the region that had, during the lifetime of his father, been a peaceful community, stirred up only once in a while when some herder of sheep angered the cow-punchers, and a little shooting followed.

"I'm wondering if I could manage to get into my room through the window without Josie seeing me," Uncle Fred continued.

Then seeing the boy's look of astonishment he went on to explain.

"You see, I came running out so fast I hadn't time to think of picking up my belt, and putting it on; so my gun is in there. And the worst of it is, I can't enter my room without pa.s.sing through the one _she_ occupies. That's how she manages all the time. Just now I wouldn't like to let her get hold of me. I never yet struck a woman in all my life, and no matter what happens I'm getting too old now to begin on a new tack. So, there you see what a fix I'm in, son."

"Oh!" laughed Adrian, "you could borrow a gun from one of the boys who might happen to own an extra one. Don't have anything to do with Aunt Josie until we see how things turn out here. Perhaps there'll be a big change come along, and the situation will take on a new phase. But suppose the Walkers do make a daylight raid, what about the other herds that are out on the range?"

Mr. Comstock jumped to his feet excitedly.

"There's two big lots, and they'd get 'em as easy as falling off a log, that's dead sure!" he exclaimed; "and to think of me sitting here taking things easy when I ought to be outside hustling every puncher off to drive the balance of our cattle into the corrals, where we could stand guard over them tonight, or till the sheriff comes, anyway."

"But there must be some system about what you do, Uncle Fred,"

interposed Adrian.

"Yes, sure there must, but what do you mean by that, son?"

"There are fourteen punchers all told, and five of them you can't depend on to do the right thing; is that so?" continued the boy.

"Yes, and now I see what you mean, Adrian; we must fix it so that the greater part of each bunch of drivers will be our stand-by men," the deposed manager said, hastily.

"Yes, if two gangs go out let three of the suspects accompany the one that has five of our fellows along, so that if they desert, or try any tricks, they'll be at least outnumbered. Billie needn't do any riding because I reckon he's nearly played out. That would leave two others to go with me and a couple of the Walker sympathizers; and depend on it I'll keep an eye on that pair good and hard. If they try any funny business they'll be sorry, that's all. So fix things that way, Uncle Fred; and chances are we'll get all the cattle safely home before the Walkers come along."

"You're a great hand to plan things, son; and I'll do that same; only I hope I can get the loan of a spare gun, if I'm to be left at home when the rest of you go off. I'd be afraid of my life otherwise, I give you my solemn word for it."

They left the bunk house after that. As they did so a face showed up at one of the windows further on, proving that some one had taken the trouble to listen, in hopes of hearing what plans they made; and it was the face of one of the suspects, in the bargain.

CHAPTER XIX.

BILLIE HAS SUSPICIONS.

Once outside again they found that the punchers still hung around as though understanding that their services would soon be needed in some way.

With something like his old decisive way of handling men, before his spirit had been almost broken through constant quarrels with his wife, Mr. Comstock picked out such men as he thought ought to be sent out in the two parties, with orders to drive all the stock into the corrals with all haste possible.

One of these was placed in charge of Donald. Besides himself it consisted of three of the suspects and four reliable punchers, eight in all; and they were to go after the larger herd known to be feeding on the hillsides some miles off.

Adrian himself had lanky George Hess, one of his new men, a puncher known as Monkey Jones on account of his agility on the back of a pony, but who was one of Mr. Comstock's select list, and two of the suspects.

They expected to round up a smaller bunch of long-horns, and get them home safely.

Billie watched all these proceedings as though wondering where he came in.

"Don't I ride along with you, Adrian?" he asked, plaintively, when there was no mention of his name given, and the two parties prepared to sally forth.

"No, not this time, Billie," replied the other, softly, for some of the men were close by, looking to their saddle-girths, and in other ways making sure things were all right before galloping forth; "Uncle Fred has to stay at home, and you had better keep him company. You see how things stand. We'll have a warm ride of it; and you never did like driving cattle, you know. Besides, if you are sighing for excitement who knows what may happen here while the rest of us are gone; and you'd better make it a point not to get separated from your rifle, for even one minute!"

Billie's eyes grew round with comprehension. He could not get the angry face of Mrs. Fred out of his mind; and he felt that Adrian must refer to her when he spoke of trouble springing up.

"Say, I reckon now that's right," he replied. "You never know what a woman's agoin' to do, any more'n you can tell which way she's meaning to throw a ball by the way she aims. And poor old Uncle Fred looks like he needed a guardian some, too. So I'll stick it out here at home; but get back as soon as you can, Adrian. Mebbe a bunch of them Walkers might run in on us here, and with only two men to hold 'em off, why, we'd need a.s.sistance, you see."

Satisfied that Billie was contented to carry out the part of the plan a.s.signed to him Adrian hurried over to where he had left his horse. One of the cowboys belonging to the ranch was standing close by, and when Adrian saw that he happened to be one of the untrustworthy ones who had been picked out to accompany him on the drive, he wondered whether the fellow might not have planned to do something to injure his precious mount.

At least Ten Spot was holding his ears far back, and acting in a vicious manner, as though determined not to allow the stranger to lay hands on him.

When Adrian gave the fellow a keen look he mumbled something about meaning to "fetch the boss' horse to him, only the animal wouldn't let him come near;" and then shuffled away to where his own pony was standing.

"I'll look out for you, my hearty," thought the boy, for if ever there had been such a thing as treachery on any face, he had seen it there in those shifting eyes and hangdog att.i.tude.

Presently the two parties started off. Of course they would not be genuine cow-punchers if they had not shown more or less extravagance in their way of riding, every fellow seeming to have some favorite way of jumping into his saddle, and then dashing away at headlong speed, waving his hat or his hand, and perhaps giving vent to shrill yells.

Away they coursed over the prairie, one to the north, and the other heading further east. Of course both Adrian and Donald depended entirely on the local punchers to find the cattle; and were wide-awake and not to be deceived by anything that might be said by one of those under the ban, who would possibly want to lead them astray, so that precious time must be lost.

Billie stood and watched them depart with a feeling of despondency. He disliked seeing his two chums leave him, even if it was for only a short time. But then he remembered what Adrian had said about his being "on guard," and that something was likely to happen there while the others were gone, that would call for valor on his part.

He meant to stand by Uncle Fred, though secretly Billie hoped deep down in his heart that this would not bring him into personal contact with that black-eyed woman who could cast a look on a fellow as though she might be tempted to eat him.

The riders galloped steadily on until they looked like specks in the distance. Of course their return would be considerably slower, because they would then be driving obstinate cattle; and no matter how dextrous the punchers might be, delays were sure to occur.

"I hope they don't run upon any snag," Billie was muttering to himself, as he noticed that the smaller party had already vanished from his view; "because, after all that's been said and done, I think Adrian deserves to save what long-horns he's got left here on his ranch. Now, who was that peeking at me around the corner of that bunk house? Somebody drawed back like a flash, and acted suspicious, seems like. Reckon it's up to me to investigate the same. P'raps now this might turn out to be the trouble that Adrian hinted would as like as not crop up here, and which he said I would have to handle. Here goes, then!"

Saying this Billie cautiously handled his repeating rifle, so that it lay in the crotch of his left arm; while he touched the trigger with the forefinger of his right hand; and having so arranged matters he took several bold steps toward the spot where he had seen that head vanish.

His heart seemed to be in his mouth as he turned the corner of the building, for he did not know what sort of a reception might greet him.

No sooner had he done this than he gave a relieved gasp. There was indeed a cringing figure there, but he immediately recognized the fellow as Mr. Thomas, the pilgrim whom they had succored on the trail to Bar-S Ranch, and who hoped to get some sort of position there, at least with a chance of three square meals a day as payment for his clerical services.

"Oh! it's only you, is it?" grunted Billie, lowering the rifle that was trembling in his nervous grip.

"Yes, that's all," whined the other. "Hope I didn't alarm you any when I poked my head out to see if the coast was clear."

"What, alarm _me_?" answered the fat boy, in a voice of lofty scorn; "well, let me tell you it'd take a whole lot more'n that to scare me.

You saw how quick I stepped around here to find out what it meant, didn't you? That don't look like I could be so easy frightened, does it?

Well, I should say not. But what're you hanging out here for, when you might as well go to the house? Didn't Adrian tell you to stay for a time anyhow; and he's the boss here, you must know."

"But I don't want to go to the house at all," remonstrated the man, as he heaved a long sigh, and looked nervously around. "Fact is, I've changed my mind about acceptin' any work here. I might stay around till tomorrow, sleeping out in the bunk house with the boys; and then if there's a wagon going to town I'll go along. I've remembered a very important engagement that I ought to keep, you see. That's why I couldn't think of staying here."

"Huh! seems to me it's mighty funny you didn't think of that same before you ever started out on the trail," Billie grunted, eying the other half suspiciously; while to himself he was saying: "Wonder now what does ail the fellow? Ever since he set eyes on Mr. Comstock he acts different from what he did. Say, wonder if he could have done the gent an injury, and recognized him when he came here? I reckon I had ought to keep an eye on Mister Thomas; who knows what he might be up to? But I won't let him know he's under suspicion. I'll just pretend to let it pa.s.s along, and watch him out of the corner of my left optic."