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The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 9

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Donald put an end to the anxiety by suddenly darting forward and whipping the gun out of the rustler's holster. He had already secured the weapon belonging to the fellow whom Adrian had subdued, so that the enemy was now powerless to do them any immediate injury.

Billie gave a screech in order to relieve his overwrought nerves.

"Victory! We came, we saw, we conquered! Bully for the Broncho Rider Boys; they're a whole team and a dog under the wagon. Told you we could do 'em, fellows! Why, it was as easy as falling off a log. Hope you're going to hog-tie the lot, Donald, now that we've got 'em, so we won't have to be sitting up to keep the same from vamosing the ranch; because there might be some other things more pleasant we'd like to be at."

Donald had prepared for just such an emergency beforehand, so that he had plenty of stout cords in his pocket, with which to make the rustlers secure.

He started in to do this. The men had recovered their wits enough by now to display considerable ugly temper. They may even have begun to dimly suspect that they had not been made prisoners by a large company of punchers after all, but that this trio of lively lads represented the sum total of their adversaries.

Donald knew that when they came to understand this humiliating fact they might become so desperate that they would go to any lengths in the endeavor to turn the tables again. That was one reason why he made such haste in getting bonds on the prisoners, with his two chums standing there, guns in hand and constantly on guard, lest one of the others leap upon Donald.

After the last man had been secured, and they were beginning to growl and swear in a horrible way, Billie thought he might claim a little of his own time in order to carry out some idea he was hugging to his heart.

But when he knelt down where that enormous feeder had been sitting it was only to give a grunt of disgust, for the very last bite of cooked meat had vanished. They had played their hand just a little too late to please Billie, who had such a stubborn way of trying to carry out any scheme he may have conceived, no matter how foolish it might be.

Adrian looked at Donald, and then the two of them shook hands. If ever they experienced the delight of having accomplished something worth while it was then and there, when they found that the four cattle rustlers were in their power, and the way stood open to recover the stampeded herd belonging to Bar-S Ranch.

Billie was not to be left out when the congratulations were going around; and accordingly he insisted on also shaking hands with his chums.

"We got 'em, didn't we, fellows? If they'd been a dozen 'stead of four we could have done the little trick just as easy. Ain't they a sorry bunch, though; and now I wonder if they happen to have any more of that fresh meat along with 'em; because I'm a bit peaked for a bite, and time's apt to hang heavy on our hands between this and daylight, when we can get busy, and pull out of here."

Sure enough he did find that there was still a small portion of meat uncooked. After learning this Billie was inclined to allow his chums to do all the planning and figuring while he busied himself by the fire; the four men glaring at him, and in turn reviling and entreating him to let them loose, as they had only been playing a practical joke on Colonel Morrison, since the cattle had been bought the day before and they thought to give him a scare.

But Billie paid no attention to either threats or blandishments, but went steadily about his self-appointed task of preparing a midnight supper for himself and companions, a congenial task it was too, as any one who knew Billie's weakness would easily understand. There was to be no sleep for the boys on this night, after the little they had enjoyed.

They could not guess what the plans of the rustlers might be, and that in itself gave them cause for anxiety. If another lot of the Walkers should turn up before morning, and catch them napping, things would go hard with the youngsters. And then again, with prisoners of that type on their hands Donald and Adrian dared not relax their vigilance a particle lest one of the men manage to get loose, and freeing his mates, pounce upon their late captors.

Donald was used to sizing up cow-punchers, and could see good in most any chap who followed that profession; but he had to admit that these four were about as hard looking specimens as he had run across for a long while. If they ever found a chance to turn the tables on the Broncho Rider Boys it was easy to guess how they would act. The thought did not afford Adrian any pleasure; but it did make him the more determined that he would neglect no precaution in order to make such a possibility less likely to happen.

Well, Billie finally called the others to sit down and have a bite of late supper; and more to oblige him than because they were really hungry they did eat a little. That satisfied the cook, however, and if his chums chose to partake so lightly of the fare, that only left the larger portion for him to make way with.

"What is the time?" asked Donald, when things had sort of simmered down to a condition of quiet, the prisoners ceasing to talk because they had come to realize that it was a useless expenditure of breath.

"Going on two now," was the answer.

"That means about four hours of it before us," said Donald; "well, we've got heaps to talk about, and can pa.s.s the time away all right. Then we must keep a lookout for signs of trouble, or the coming of any more rustlers, as well as watch this tough bunch."

"And," added the other, "if we have any extra time we could put it in looking to see how the cattle are coming on close by here. If all's well in the morning we'll take the greatest pleasure in starting back for the ranch house, driving this lot of long-horns that carry the Bar-S brand."

Donald began chuckling at that.

"What do you find to laugh at?" asked Billie, who looked unusually sober for him.

"I was just thinking," replied the ranch boy, "what a tremendous surprise it'll be for Uncle Fred, yes, and Aunt Josie too, when they see us coming along whooping, with the lost herd in our charge. That would make a picture worth keeping, if only Billie here could snap it off, which he can't, more's the pity!"

CHAPTER XI.

LAYING PLANS.

"There's one thing I don't understand," remarked Billie, after there had been a little interval of silence, while every one seemed to be busy with thoughts of his own.

"Better ease your mind, then, Billie, and let us hear what's bothering you," said Donald, with a smile; for he was used to the ways of his cousin, and knew that whenever anything did worry the fat chum he had a regular bulldog method of keeping everlastingly at the matter until he had smoothed the tangle out, fairly well at least.

"Yes," added Adrian, "you know we're always willing to oblige you with whatever information we happen to have ourselves, so don't be bashful, Billie."

"Well, it's just this," and the other lowered his voice to a hoa.r.s.e whisper, as though not wanting to take any chances of the prisoners catching a single word of what he meant to say, "what are we agoing to do with that crowd when morning comes along? Somebody give me the answer, please."

"Why, we don't want to be bothered with the lot any longer than we can help," Donald told him; "and that being the case we'll decide on how we'd better turn 'em loose, minus their guns, of course."

"Huh! that might mean you'd let 'em have their ponies, I reckon?"

pursued Billie.

"Well, it's considered a cruelty out here on the plains to take a man's cayuse away from him," said Donald; "and because they're a pack of cattle rustlers hadn't ought to make us covet their mounts, I take it.

See here, what's ailing you, Billie; you've sure got a bee in your bonnet right now? I hope you haven't got an eye on one of their hosses, that buckskin p'raps, and think it'd about be in your cla.s.s?"

Billie shook his head slowly.

"You wrong me, Donald, sure you do," he observed, mournfully, as he gave his cousin a reproachful look; "I was only trying to do the thinking for the bunch for once. And I'll tell you what occurred to me if you want me to."

"Of course we do, old fellow, and we'll thank you for doing it, too!"

exclaimed Adrian, warmly.

"Same here, Billie!" echoed the other chum.

"All right," Billie went on to say, still in that low, mysterious way; "then listen here, fellows. Now, it's going to take us quite some time to drive this lot of steers and cows back to where they came from, I take it?"

"Sure thing," remarked Adrian, encouragingly, when Billie stopped his explanation as though seeking confirmation of his statement.

"Well, supposing then, we turned these rustlers loose about the time we started, and gave 'em to understand we'd shoot the first fellow we saw dodging after us, what d'ye s'pose they'd be apt to do in that case?

Why, make a bee-line for where they could find another batch of their breed, and fetch the whole gang awhooping after us. We might find a dozen or two tough punchers closing in on us long before we could get to the Bar-S Ranch buildings. How's that?"

"Say, there's a whole lot in what you say, Billie," admitted Donald, thoughtfully.

"And it's got to be threshed out while we sit here, too," added Adrian.

"I've a plan in mind right now that might fill the bill."

"Then for goodness' sake let's hear it!" begged Billie, eagerly.

"When we leave here in the morning we won't untie the rustlers at all, only one fellow, who can accompany us on our ride," pursued the owner of the ranch from which the cattle in the coulie had been stolen and stampeded.

"But hold on," remarked tender-hearted Billie, "wouldn't it be kind o'

cruel to leave the lot here, tied hand and foot? What if n.o.body came along, and they had to just roll around here all the time? Say, it's _aw_ful to get hungry, and as for me I wouldn't want my worst enemy to be kept from his feed for even one whole day. I can't imagine any suffering so terrible; and you wouldn't think of trying such punishment even on cattle rustlers, would you, Adrian? They're human after all, even if they are bad men."

"You didn't let me finish what I was going to say, Billie," observed the ranch boy, quietly. "Didn't you hear me tell how we'd take one of them along on his pony, picking out the meekest of the bunch, if there's any choice about that, so we can make him help drive the cattle, and one of us could keep close to him all the time."

"Yes, yes, go on, please, Ad, I'm following you," said the fat chum.

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The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail Part 9 summary

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