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The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 26

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THE COMING OF THE RUSTLERS.

"You don't think it'd pay for somebody to sneak out there and learn if the rustlers are really hanging around?" suggested Donald, after some time had crept on, without anything happening to change the conditions as they existed.

"No use, Donald," said the other, immediately. "There'd always be more or less risk that you'd get in a peck of trouble; and if the attack came when you were away, why, we'd miss your helping hand."

"But I'd like to go the worst kind, Adrian."

"I'm right sure you would," answered the other, quickly; "but the more you get to thinking it over the sooner you'll make up your mind that it'd never pay. When I crawled into that house it was of prime importance that we found out if those three renegades were hiding there, waiting to attack us from the rear when we had our hands full of other business. That was an important thing; but we already feel dead certain that the Walkers are hanging out yonder, so what good could it do to just crawl up and find this out? Perhaps, now, you're thinking of corraling the whole bunch, and beating my little game five times over, eh, Donald?"

"I give it up, Ad; so don't speak of it again, please. Just as you say, we feel they're waiting out there, hidden by that measly gloom; and I couldn't really do any more than make sure of that. Forget it. I'm wondering what their dodge'll be when they get busy. I've known more'n a few games being played by rustlers; but believe me, in all my life down in Arizona, where the Mexicans come across the border and steal cattle, to rush it over the line so that we can't go after 'em, I never heard of such boldness as these Walkers show. Why, they just up and tell a ranchman they are in need of about sixty fat beeves, and that his seem to fill the bill; so if he knows what's good for him he'll turn over and go to sleep again, in case he wakes up some fine night, and hears a stampede taking place outside where his corral lies. Yes, and they get the habit, too, for they come back again and again."

"Well," said Adrian, grimly, "something's going to happen before morning to make a change in this program, even if we're left to fight it out alone. If that posse only shows up it's a dead certainty the end of the Walker trail has come."

"How long now to midnight?" queried Donald.

"You seem to have got your mind made up they've picked out that time to begin work," remarked the other, taking out his watch again.

"Because I know the breed so well; perhaps that's why," the prairie boy went on to say, positively; "they had to set some time, you see, so that the other bunch in the ranch house would know when to get busy; and somehow midnight seems to be the favored hour. Pretty close to that, ain't it, Adrian?"

"I should say yes, because it'll be here in ten minutes more, Donald."

"Well, I'm glad of that, because, to tell the truth I feel a heap like Uncle Fred said he did; and the sooner we know the worst, the better. By the way, have you seen Billie lately?"

"That reminds me I haven't; and I wonder what he's doing with himself,"

Adrian went on to say; for events had chased after each other so quickly that for the time being he had forgotten all about the stout chum.

"We might take a walk around and see if he's crawled into one of the bunks over at the men's quarters; because you know, Billie's failing next to stuffing at dinner time is trying to 'make up for lost sleep,'

as he calls it, though where he ever dropped any beats me. But as it's so near the time we look for trouble we'd better let things go as they are. If there's any shooting he's bound to be waked up by Charley Moo, who, you remember, is in there guarding the wounded fellow."

"That's right," replied Adrian, who often found this thing of looking after the fat chum rather wearisome, and fancied Billie ought to be left more frequently to take care of himself; since of late he had shown such marked improvement that he must be considering it quite unnecessary to have one of his chums forever holding out a helping hand, when they came to a muddle of any sort.

"Everything seems quiet over at the house where you left your prisoners," Donald next remarked, as he turned his head in that direction.

"Oh! not much danger of their breaking out through _that_ door," Adrian a.s.sured him. "Once or twice I've wondered whether the woman in her blind rage would think to set fire to the place; hoping that she might get out in that way; but those punchers would put a stop to any risky game like that, I should think."

"They would if they had their right sense," averred Donald; "because the chances are three to one that instead of getting free they'd all be smothered there in that store-room."

"Shall we make our stand here, and together?" asked the other, fingering his repeating gun as though under the conviction that he must speedily have use for the same.

"That was the program, as I understood it," replied Donald; "we've got the choice place, too, where we can command a wide sweep; and when I picked it out I was pretty sure the attack would swing down from out yonder, though you never can tell where lightning'll strike."

"Then let's get down behind all this trash, and lie low," suggested Adrian; "for if they come riding along, they'll be apt to send some lead singing in this direction, you can be sure."

As they had before this time arranged certain nesting places in the midst of the old lumber and such things, thrown into a great heap until it could be taken away at some future date, all the boys had to do now was to snuggle down.

Then, resting their guns over the top of the barricade, they awaited developments, still confident that they would soon have plenty of excitement on their hands to satisfy any desire for action that might exist in their venturesome young hearts.

So the minutes dragged along, and at last Adrian announced that the hour of midnight had really arrived.

"They may come crawling up like snakes in the gra.s.s," he said; "and again, p'raps they'll go galloping past like the Indians used to do, down your way, when they had a caravan stalled-hiding behind their horses, and banging away with their guns to beat the band."

"Well," said Donald, firmly, "I hate to hurt a poor horse the worst kind, as you know right well, Adrian; but if they go to trying that sort of dodge, there's only one way to break such a game up, and that's to drop their mounts so fast they'll soon get sick of it."

"And when one of us does that, perhaps the other might get a chance to send his compliments to the rustler when he goes pitching over the head of his mount?" suggested Adrian, showing that he had fallen in with his chum's idea.

"Good enough; and we'll try that same if we get the opening. Now, let's watch out, so that no crawler gets in close enough to start cutting the wire corral open. In some places it wouldn't take only a few minutes at most to slash things wide; and by the way the cattle keep moving around, chances are they'd be pouring out through the gap before you could think five times."

Again silence fell upon the two chums. Not the slightest sound came but they listened carefully to place it, under the impression that it might have a significance far beyond its apparent nature.

"There, did you see that?" whispered Donald, suddenly.

"That light flashed up three different times, sure it did," replied the other.

"A signal different from any of the others, too," added Donald.

"And p'raps it means for them to come along; they'll be apt to whoop it up pretty lively too, mark my words; because they'll expect their pals in our camp to take notice, so they can carry out their part of the slick game. What did I tell you, Donald?"

The night was suddenly broken by a series of loud cowboy yells, such as always cause the herd to take notice and show immediate signs of being ready to stampede. Then came the pounding of horses' hoofs on the prairie, and the two Broncho Rider Boys, crouching there, waited to get their first glimpse of the coming rustlers.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

WHEN THE SHERIFF CAME-CONCLUSION.

Quickly following these shouts the two boys could see moving figures, that presently developed into galloping horses. They seemed to be riderless until one looked more closely, when possibly a knee might be discovered above the saddle, or it might be an arm was disclosed.

Every fellow kept shouting at the top of his lungs, undoubtedly with a two-fold object in view; for by this means they hoped to not only excite the penned-up cattle, and work them into a fit condition for a stampede the moment an opening was provided, but at the same time such a racket was apt to alarm the defenders of the corrals, as well as bring their confederates into the game.

As they started to swing back and forth, now coming closer, and anon falling more to the rear, these wild riders started shooting their revolvers at a rapid rate. If there is one thing that a cow-puncher dearly loves above all others it is an opportunity to pull the trigger of his gun in quick succession, while he is shooting up some unlucky town where they sell strong drink.

And these rustlers were of that breed to a certainty, for they kept things going at a pretty lively gait.

"Let's start in some ourselves!" cried Adrian in the ear of his chum; for they had simply crouched there, watching what was going on, as though it might be a free show organized for their especial benefit.

Donald was only waiting for this word. He dropped his head close to the b.u.t.t of his rifle, and like a flash the report came. There was a horse on the ground immediately, with his rider taking a flight through the air so that he landed fully fifteen feet ahead.

"Watch and see if he gets up; if he does let him have it!" said Donald, already filled with the enthusiasm such a situation was apt to bring about.

The fellow could not have been badly hurt by his tumble, for he at once started to scramble to his feet, as though meaning to either make off, or else try and run for the shelter of the nearest corral, bent on doing certain work that had been a.s.signed to him beforehand.

Adrian, seeing a good chance to disable him, fired so as to hit the rustler in the leg. He went down in a heap, and the last glance they cast his way they could see him hugging his injured limb as though all the fight might have been taken out of him after that disaster.

"Don't stop there!" urged Donald. "We must teach the fools a lesson.

Wait till that fellow mounted on the big bay comes along again; because somehow I've got a notion it may be Hatch Walker himself on that horse.

I've heard he rides a magnificent bay; and that animal sure is a dandy!"

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The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 26 summary

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