The Boy Land Boomer Part 2

Down and down he went, the light finding nothing but bare, rocky wall to fall upon. Presently the lowering process ceased.

"We have reached the end of the lariat," called out d.i.c.k.

Hardly had he spoken when a fearful thing happened. There was a snap and a whirr, and d.i.c.k and Pumpkin went flat on their backs, while ten feet of the lariat whirled loosely over their heads.

The improvised rope had broken.

"Gone!" gasped d.i.c.k. "Merciful heavens!"

He scrambled up and looked over the edge of the opening. The lantern had been dashed into a thousand pieces, and all was dark below.

"p.a.w.nee Brown!" he cried, and Pumpkin joined in with a cry which was fairly a shriek.

The opening remained as silent as a tomb. Again and again both called out. Then d.i.c.k turned to his companion.

"This is awful, Pumpkin. Something must be done. I shall mount his mare and ride back to camp and get help. For all I know to the contrary both my father and p.a.w.nee Brown are lying dead below."

"I shan't stay here alone," s.h.i.+vered the half-witted boy. Then, before d.i.c.k could stop him, he set off at the top of his speed, yelling discordantly as he went.

"Poor fool, he might have ridden with me," thought d.i.c.k.

He was already rus.h.i.+ng down to the trail. Now he remembered that he had heard a strange noise down where p.a.w.nee Brown's beautiful mare, Bonnie Bird, had been tethered--a noise reaching him just before the lariat had parted. What could that mean?

He reached the clump of trees where Bonnie Bird should have been. The mare was gone!

"Broken away!" he groaned. "Was ever such luck before! Everything is going wrong tonight! Poor father; poor p.a.w.nee Brown! I must leg it to camp just as Pumpkin is doing. Hullo!"

He had started to run, but now he pulled up short. Grazing in the wet gra.s.s not a dozen steps away was a bay horse, full and round, a perfect beast. At first d.i.c.k Arbuckle thought he must be dreaming. He ran up rubbing his eyes. No, it was no dream; the horse was as real as a horse could be. He was bridled, but instead of a saddle wore only a patch of a blanket.

"It's a G.o.dsend," he murmured. "I don't know whom you belong to, old boy, but you've got to carry me back to camp, and that, too, at a licking gait, you understand?"

The horse p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and gave a snort. In a trice d.i.c.k was on his back and urging him around in the proper direction. He was a New York boy, not much used to riding, and the management of such a beast as this one did not come easy. The horse arose upon his forelegs and nearly pitched d.i.c.k over his head, and the youth had to cling fast around his neck to save himself a lot of broken bones.

"Whoa, there! Gee Christopher, what a tartar! Whoa, I say! If only I had a whip!" he panted, as the horse began to move around on a pivot. "Now, why can't you act nice, when I'm in such dire need of your services? If you don't stop--Whoa! whoa!"

For the horse had suddenly stopped pivoting and started off like a streak, not up or down the trail, but across a stretch of prairie gra.s.s.

On and on he went, the bit between his teeth and gaining speed at every step. In vain d.i.c.k yelled at him, kicked him and banged him on the head.

It was of no use, and he had to cling on for dear life.

"I might as well let him go and jump for it," he thought at last, when nearly a mile had been covered. "It's just as useless to try to stop him as it would be to stop a limited express. If I jump off--but I won't, now!"

For the prairie had been left behind, and the bay was tearing along a rocky trail leading to goodness knew where, so d.i.c.k thought. A jump now would mean broken bones, perhaps death. He clung tighter than ever, and tried to calm the horse by speaking gently to him.

At first the beast would not listen, but finally, when several miles had been covered he slackened up, and at last dropped into a walk. He was covered with foam, and now he was quite willing to be led.

"You old reprobate!" muttered d.i.c.k, as he tightened his hold on the reins. "Now where in the name of creation have you brought me to, and how am I to find my way back to camp from here?"

Sitting upright once again, the youth tried to pierce the darkness. The rain had stopped, only a few scattering drops falling upon himself and the steaming animal, but the darkness was as great as ever.

On two sides of him were forest lands, on the third a slope of rocks and on the fourth a stretch of dwarf gra.s.s. The trail, if such it could be called, ran along the edge of the timber. Should he follow this? He moved along slowly, wondering whether he was right or wrong.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

It was a military challenge, coming out of the darkness. d.i.c.k stopped the horse, and presently made out the form of a man on horseback, a cavalryman.

"I'm a friend who has lost the way," began the youth, when the cavalryman let out a cry of surprise.

"Tucker's horse, hang me if it isn't! Boy, where did you get that nag?

Tucker, Ross, come here! I've collared one of the horse-thieves!"

In a moment more there came the clatter of horses' hoofs through the timber, and d.i.c.k found himself surrounded by three big and decidedly ugly-looking United States cavalrymen--troopers who belonged to a detachment set to guard the Oklahoma territory from invasion.

"A boy and a boomer!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the fellow named Tucker. "I saw the kid over near Arkansas City a couple of days ago. And riding Chester, too!

Git off that hoss, before I kick you off!"

And riding up he caught d.i.c.k by the collar and yanked him to the ground.

In an instant he was beside the boy and had produced a pair of reservation handcuffs.

"Out with your hands, sonny, and be quick about it."

"What for?" asked d.i.c.k, somewhat bewildered by the unceremonious way in which he was being handled. "I didn't steal that horse."

"Too thin, sonny. All you boomers are a set of thieves, and I suppose you think stealing our hossflesh is the rarest kind of a joke. Out with those hands, I say, and consider yourself a prisoner of Uncle Sam.

You've nearly ridden Chester to death and for two pins I'd take the law into my own hands and string you up to the nearest tree. Take that!"

And having handcuffed d.i.c.k the cavalryman let out with his heavy right hand and landed a savage slap that sent the helpless youth headlong at his feet.

The blow aroused all of the lion in the youth's makeup. As quickly as he could he leaped up.

"You brute!" he cried. "Why don't you fight fair? Take that, and that and that!"

Each "that" meant two blows, for d.i.c.k could not separate his hands, and therefore struck out with both at a time--two in the chest, two on the chin and the final pair on either side of Tucker's big and reddish nose.

The cavalryman, taken by surprise, let out a cry of rage and pain.

"You imp!" he screamed. "To hit a man in uniform! I'll show you what I can do! How do you like that?"

With incredible swiftness he drew his heavy Sabra and leaped upon d.i.c.k.

The boy tried to retreat, but slipped on the wet ground and went down.

On the instant Tucker was upon him, and, with a fierce cry, the infuriated cavalryman raised his blade over d.i.c.k's head.

CHAPTER III.

A CAVE AND A CAVE-IN.

Let us go back and see what happened to p.a.w.nee Brown at the time the lariat parted and he found himself going down into what seemed bottomless s.p.a.ce.