The Boy Scouts On The Range Part 24

"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."

"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt, gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol.

Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.

"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason why we shouldn't go ahead."

As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food supply.

"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.

"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.

The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.

The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty, confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.

CHAPTER XVI.

BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO.

If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to recover his voice.

"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?"

"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness,"

spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange fate.

"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question will always be productive of strife, more's the pity. Besides, certain fence-cutting incidents----"

"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily.

"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing--without the proper evidence."

The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words.

"What we want from you now, Clark, is information."

"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone.

"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch,"

explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob Blake----"

"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had come near hitting the nail on the head when he connected them in a vague way with Rob's disappearance.

"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly.

"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt angrily.

"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good.

Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now is if they have seen Rob?"

"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost hereabouts?"

"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might have had the good fortune to escape."

"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone, now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him.

"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly.

"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we like."

"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with gentlemen's preferences out here in the West."

"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark carried behind him.

"We did not."

"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?"

"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank.

"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why we're carrying the saddle--to put on him when we find him. That, too, accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with excitement as he stepped forward. "_Where did you get Rob Blake's sombrero?_"

His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band about its crown.

"Why, I--we--that is--it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily.

"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You----"

Crack!

The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy quirt and cut him full across the face with it.

"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get out of this."

The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm.

"Not that way, Blinky," he said.

"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carca.s.s."

"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop them!"