Two Boys in Wyoming Part 26

Before he was half-way back to camp the moon appeared above the mountain peak behind him, and the rugged scenery was lit up by the rays that streamed on every side. He paused where he could observe the gleam of his own camp-fire at the mouth of the cavern, while, by turning his head, he saw the twinkle of the one he had left behind. All between lay as silent as the tomb.

"I bluffed it pretty heavy," he reflected, "and I guess it'll work with them bucks; I ain't so sartin of Motoza, fur if he has had anything to do with the taking off of that younker he's covered up his tracks pretty well and it'll be hard work to run him down, but _I'll do it_!" he savagely exclaimed, as he resumed his strides toward his own camp.

As he drew near he caught sight of the unconscious figure of Jack Dudley, sitting with his back against the rock. The moon revealed him clearly, and the cowman approached him with noiseless step.

"Poor fellow! he come out here to watch, thinking he couldn't sleep, and now he's good for nothing till sunup."

Hank leaned over and tenderly adjusted the blanket around the figure of the handsome youth, as his mother might have done had she been present.

Then pa.s.sing within the cavern, he lay down and slept until the night was ended.

The presence of the lad on the outside of the cavern showed that he knew of the departure of the guide. Hank, therefore, explained his reason for leaving him, and told him all that had occurred.

"The first thing to do, younker, is to find Motoza; that's what I'm going to do. You can't stand it to be alone with yourself, so you can come with me, though I hain't no idee that you'll be able to give any help."

"I hope I shall; though, if you think there is more chance of success in making the hunt alone, I'll do the same."

Hank was silent a moment, as if considering the matter, but he quickly added:

"Come along. But how about breakfast?"

"I haven't the least appet.i.te."

"I thought so by your looks," he said, sympathizingly. "I'm blamed sorry fur you, and hope your appet.i.te will soon come back to you."

"It will as soon as we find Fred," said Jack, with a faint smile; "but what about yourself?"

"It's all the same; if we had meat here I'd cook and eat it; but I'm willing to go a day or two, if I haven't the time to take any meals."

"That's strange!" broke in Jack; "yonder comes a white man; he must be one of your acquaintances, though I never saw him before."

Hazletine turned round in surprise. A tall white man, dressed as a cowboy, with long dangling yellow hair and a thin mustache and goatee, and with rifle slung over his shoulder, had appeared on the further side of the plateau, and was approaching the couple at a deliberate pace.

"Wal, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Hazletine; "if there isn't Bill Tozer! He's the last man I expected to meet in these parts."

These words did not bring Jack Dudley much enlightenment, but he felt no special curiosity concerning the individual, and silently waited till he came up. The youth judged from the manner of the guide, however, that he was not overly pleased with the new arrival, whose countenance was not attractive. Nevertheless, the two shook hands with seeming cordiality, and the new-comer looked inquiringly at Jack.

"This is a friend of mine, Bill, that I took out on a hunt t'other day with another younker; Jack Dudley, Bill Tozer."

"Glad to know you," said the man heartily; "I see you're a tenderfoot."

"Yes," replied Jack; "less than two weeks ago I had never set foot in Wyoming."

"Wal, now that's funny; you'll like the country after you get used to it."

"Would to heaven I had never seen it!" was the bitter exclamation of the youth, hardly able to keep back his tears.

"Sorry to hear that, my young friend; but cheer up; it'll come out all right."

It struck Jack that this was a singular remark for the man to make, for it sounded as if he knew the cause of Jack's emotion; but before the boy could seek enlightenment the man made a more extraordinary remark:

"You'll excuse us for a few minutes, my young friend; I've some words to say in private to Hank."

"Certainly," replied Jack, turning on his heel and walking beyond earshot. He gave the men no further attention, for he did not suspect the new-comer had anything to impart of interest to him. The boy felt more like resenting this interference with the momentous business he and the guide had on hand.

But Jack was mistaken. Hardly was he a hundred feet from the couple when Hazletine asked:

"What's up, Bill?"

"One of them young tenderfeet is missing, eh?"

"How did you find that out?"

"I reached the camp of Bok-kar-oo last night within a half-hour after you'd gone; he and two other bucks are out on a hunt, which they haven't any business to be, but that's nothing to us. Bok-kar-oo told me what you had told him; it's queer business, isn't it?"

"I should say it was. That Motoza has had a hand in it, and I've set out to find him and settle the account."

"Why are you so sure about Motoza?"

"'Cause I _know_ him!" said Hank, savagely; "and I've knowed him fur a good many years; there isn't a worse Injin in Wyoming."

Instead of commenting on this remark, Tozer stood silent a moment, and then made a flirt with his head as a request for Hank to step aside with him. The cowman obeyed, and they seated themselves still further from Jack Dudley.

"What makes you so afeard he'll hear us?" asked Hazletine, impatiently, noting the suspicious glances which the man cast in the direction of the youth.

"For the reason that I don't want him to hear us; I've something to say about him and his friend."

"His father owns half of Bowman's ranch."

Bill Tozer started with an angry exclamation.

"Is that so?" he asked in amazement. "I thought it was the other fellow's father."

"How should you know anything about it anyway?" demanded Hazletine, who made no attempt to conceal his dislike of the man. "I'd like to know where you picked up so much knowledge 'bout these two younkers."

"There's no need of getting huffy about it, Hank; it seemed to me that I was to be on your heels for the last few days, for I stopped at the ranch and had a talk with the fellows only a short time after you left with the tenderfeet for this hunt. I understood Kansas Jim to say that it was the father of the Greenwood boy that owned half the ranch."

"If Jim told you that, which I don't believe he done, he told you what ain't so."

"But the father of the other boy--the one that's missing--he's rich too, ain't he?"

"I don't know nothing 'bout it; what are you driving at? Bill, you know that my 'pinion of you is 'bout the same as it is of that tramp Motoza, so, if you've got anything to say to me, out with it! I hain't any time to fool away."

"I _have_ something to say, Hank, and it's about them young tenderfeet: I've seen Motoza."

"When?"

"This morning."