The Pony Rider Boys in Texas Part 2

"Stallings? Who's he?"

"The foreman of the cowboys with whom we are going."

"And were those the fellows that tried to crowd me off the street?"

"I reckon those were the boys," said Ned Rector quietly.

"Then, I can see a nice time when we join them. They will have no love for me after what has happened this morning. Where is the camp?"

"I don't know. Professor Zepplin says it's about four miles to the west of here."

"When do we join them?"

"Some time to-night. The foreman says they are going to start at daylight. He's over at the hotel talking with the Professor now. He was telling the Professor about your mix-up with Lumpy Bates. That's the name of the cowboy who ran into you. And how he did laugh when I told him you belonged to our crowd," chuckled Ned.

"What did he say?"

"Said he thought you'd do. He says we can't use our ponies on the drive."

"Why not?" asked Tad, looking up quickly.

"Because they are not trained on cattle work."

"Pshaw! I'm sorry. Have we got to leave them here?"

"No. He says we may turn them in with their herd, and use them for anything we care to, except around the cattle. We shall have to ride some of the bronchos when we are on duty."

"I think I see somebody falling off," laughed Tad. "Ever ride one of them, Ned?"

"No."

"Well, you'll know more about them after you have."

"I think I should like to go over and see Mr. Stallings," declared Tad.

"All right, come along, then."

They found the foreman of the outfit discussing the plans for their journey with Professor Zepplin, while Stacy Brown and Walter Perkins were listening with eager attention.

"This is Master Tad Butler, Mr. Stallings," announced the Professor.

"I think I have met the young man before," answered the foreman, with a peculiar smile.

"Tad, I am surprised that you should involve yourself in trouble so soon after getting out of my sight. I----"

"The boy was not to blame, Mr. Professor. My cowpunchers were wholly in the wrong. But you need have no fears of any future trouble. The bunch will be given to understand that the young gentlemen are to be well treated. You will find no luxuries, but lots of hard work on a cattle drive, young men----"

"Do--do we get plenty to eat?" interrupted Stacy Brown apprehensively.

All joined in the laugh at the lad's expense.

"Chunky's appet.i.te is a wonderful thing, Mr. Stallings," said Tad.

"I think we shall be able to satisfy it," laughed the foreman. "Our cook is a Chinaman. His name is Pong, but he knows how to get up a meal. I believe, if he had nothing but sage gra.s.s and sand, he could make a palatable dish of them, provided he had the seasoning. Have you boys brought your slickers with, you?"

"What's a slicker?" demanded Chunky.

"A rubber blanket that----"

"Oh yes. We bought an outfit of those at Austin," answered Tad.

"Anything else that you wish us to get?"

"The boys don't carry guns, do they?"

Professor Zepplin shook his head emphatically.

"Most certainly not. They can get into enough trouble without them. We have rifles in our kit, but I imagine there will be little use for such weapons on this trip."

"You can't always tell about that," smiled the foreman. "I remember in the old days, when we used to have to fight the rustlers, that a rifle was a pretty good thing to have."

"Who were the rustlers?" asked Walter.

"Fellows who rustled cattle that didn't belong to them. But the old days have pa.s.sed. Such a drive as we are making now hasn't been done on so large a scale in nearly twenty years."

"Why not?" asked Ned.

"The iron trails have put the old cow trails out of business."

"Iron trails?" wondered Tad.

"Railroads. We men of the plains refer to them as the iron trails.

That's what they are in reality. Professor, do you wish the boys to take their turns on the herd to-night?"

"As you wish, Mr. Stallings. I presume they will be anxious to begin their life as cowboys. I understand that's an ambition possessed by most of your American boys."

"All right," laughed the foreman. "I'll send them out as I find I can, with some of the other cowpunchers, until they learn the ropes. There is too great a responsibility on a night man to trust the boys alone with that work now. But they can begin if they wish. I'll see first how the bunch get back from their celebration of the glorious Fourth. You'll come out and have supper with us?"

"No, I think not. We shall ride out just after supper, if you will have some one to show us the way," answered the Professor.

"Sure, I'll send in Big-foot Sanders to pilot you out. You boys need not be afraid of Big-foot. He's not half so savage as he looks, but he's a great hand with cows."

Big-foot Sanders rode up to the hotel shortly after six o'clock. Leading his pony across the sidewalk, he poked his s.h.a.ggy head just inside the door of the hotel.

"Ki-yi!" he bellowed, causing everybody within hearing of his voice to start up in alarm. "Where's that bunch of tenderfeet?"

"Are you Mr. Sanders, from the Miller outfit?" asked the Professor, stepping toward him.

"Donno about the Mister. I'm Big-foot Sanders. I'm lookin' for a bunch of yearlings that's going on with the outfit."