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"Then you haven't heard the news?" asked Snake Purdee.
"What news?" asked Bud, while Nort and d.i.c.k listened eagerly.
"Bad business," went on Yellin' Kid. "A lot of your dad's choice stock was run off from the far range a while ago. Tar Blake just rode in and give notice. Bad business!"
"I should say so!" agreed Bud. "Who did it; Greasers or some of that outfit?" and he motioned back to the camp he and his cousins had just left.
CHAPTER XII
RIDING HERD
Yellin' Kid, Snake and the other cowboys stamped out the brands of the grease-wood fire, coiled their lariats and mounted their ponies before anyone answered Bud's question. He did not repeat it, knowing the character of the men to whom he was speaking. Then, as Old Billie Dobb, who might have been a foreman a dozen times over if he had only proved more reliable, spoke up and said:
"We don't know who did it, Bud; an' your paw don't neither! Tar just rid in with th' news, as we rid out to do some fence mendin'. We wanted to stop an' hear th' particulars, but your paw said for us to mosey over this way, an' we done so. He said if we seen you boys to send you home."
"We're heading that way," Bud answered. "We were just over to the camp where they had trouble the other night, but they've vamoosed."
"Can't see what they ever come here for," spoke Yellin' Kid. "An' it wouldn't s'prise me a bit if them fellers proved to be the cattle rustlers."
"Nor me," declared Nort, impulsively, thus drawing attention to himself.
"Well, you know all we do, Bud," spoke Billie Dobb. "Maybe your paw'll have more news by th' time you get there. Tell him you met us an' that we'll be back as soon as we find th' break an' fix it. It's a big bust, the report has it, an' he don't want th' cattle to stampede out."
"All right, we're going," declared Bud. "Come on, fellows," he called to his cousins, and they galloped away toward the ranch headquarters, while the cowboys rode on their way, Yellin' Kid singing at the top of his voice. The boy ranchers pa.s.sed the newly branded calf, its mother still licking the burned place, but the little creature did not seem much to mind what had happened, for it was eating gra.s.s.
"Who broke the fence?" asked Nort, as he and d.i.c.k rode along on either side of Bud, whose horsemans.h.i.+p they were trying to imitate.
"Hard to say," was the answer. "Sometimes it's Greasers, and again Indians, who hope to get a few cattle in the confusion if a herd gets out. Then again something may have frightened the cattle themselves, and in a rush they may have broken through. Generally it's the cattle themselves, and then we have to rush a bunch of cowboys to mend the break, some of 'em stringing new wire while others keep the steers, cows and calves from coming out on the open range."
"Say, there's been a lot of excitement since we came here!" declared Nort, his eyes s.h.i.+ning in delight at the prospect of more.
"Oh, there's always more or less going on like this," said Bud. "If it isn't one thing it's another, though I must say we haven't had anything like those queer professors in some time."
"I'd like to know what their game really is," remarked d.i.c.k.
"So would I!" exclaimed his more impulsive brother. "And I'd like to catch 'em at it when I had my gun loaded," and he tapped significantly the .45 on his hip.
"Don't be too fast with gun play," advised Bud calmly. "You'll find, if you ever become a rancher, that you'll use more powder on coyotes, rattlers and in driving cattle the way you want 'em to go, than you will on humans. There isn't so much shooting out here as the writers of some books would make out."
"Well, if there's only a little, I'll be satisfied," said Nort.
They reached the headquarters of Diamond X ranch without mishap, save that d.i.c.k's pony stepped into a prairie dog's hole, and threw his rider over his head. But d.i.c.k was rather stout, and cus.h.i.+oned with flesh as he was, a severe shaking-up was all the harm he suffered.
"They're nasty things at night--prairie dogs' burrows," said Bud. "But mostly a pony can see 'em in time to side-step. Yours just didn't--that's all."
"Yes, he--didn't!" laughed d.i.c.k, as he climbed back into the saddle.
There was enough excitement at Diamond X ranch to please even excitable Nort. As the other cowboys had said, one of Mr. Merkel's men from a distant ranch--Square M, to be exact--had ridden in to report that during the early morning hours several head of choice steers, that were being gotten ready for a rising market, had been driven off by rustlers. Leaving his companions in charge of the remaining cattle, Tar Blake--who got his name from his very black whiskers--had ridden to headquarters to give the alarm.
"Well, we'll see if we can trail these scoundrels!" declared Mr.
Merkel, as Bud and his cousins rode up.
"Can't we go, dad?" asked Bud, as eagerly as Nort would have spoken.
"Maybe it's the bunch from the queer professors' camp. Let us trail along!"
"Nope!" was the short answer from Mr. Merkel. "I've got other plans for you," he added quickly, and in a tone that took the sting out of his refusal. "You'll have plenty of excitement," he went on, "so don't look so down in the mouth, son. Get something to eat, and then pack your outfit for a few days. You've got to ride herd, while I pull in as many men as I can spare to trail these rustlers."
"What herd, dad?" asked Bud. "Over by Square M?" and he named the ranch where the thieving had taken place that morning.
"No, I want you to help haze that bunch from Triangle B over to the railroad yard. They've been showing signs of uneasiness, and I don't want 'em to bolt when they're on the last stretch. You'll find 'em over by the bend. Ride there, and tell Charlie Smith and Hen Wagner to come in. You'll relieve them. Dirk Blanchard will be with you, and so will Chot Ramsey, and you three ought to be able to bed 'em down to-night. Drive 'em along easy. Dirk knows how to do it, and there's plenty of water along the way. Don't hurry 'em; if you do they'll work off all their fat, and beef is too high now to waste it by running it off the hoof. Mosey along now!" and the ranchman turned from Bud to give other orders.
Nort and d.i.c.k, with one accord, started forward, but their cousin antic.i.p.ated their appeal.
"Can't Nort and d.i.c.k come with me, dad?" asked Bud.
"Sure thing--if they want to," answered Mr. Merkel.
"As if we wouldn't want to!" murmured Nort. "Oh, boy!"
"Say! It'll be great--riding herd!" exclaimed d.i.c.k.
Several hours later found the boy ranchers within sight of the four hundred or more steers and cows they were to guard, and gradually head over to the railroad stock yards, whence they would be s.h.i.+pped to a distant city, there to be sold to the profit of Mr. Merkel.
"Whoop-ee!" came a distant hail from one of the cowboys left to guard the Triangle B cattle.
"Zip-sippy!" yelled Bud in answer, and a little later he was introducing his cousins to the cowboys.
"Oh, boy! Rustlers!" cried Charlie Smith, when informed that he and Hen Wagner were to form part of the pursuing posse.
"Just my rotten luck, I have to stay here!" complained Dirk, while Chot, to voice his disapproval of having to remain behind, slapped his pony with his hat and rode off over the prairie, only to return as fast as he went. It was his way of letting off steam.
The two cowboys, who were to join the bunch from Diamond X ranch, departed in haste, and then Bud and his cousins made preparations for spending several nights and days in the open, riding herd and hazing the cattle to their destination.
It was the season of warm nights, as well as days, though there was a certain coolness after dark. No tents were set up. Each man, or boy, was provided with a canvas tarpaulin, which was all the protection needed. The prairie itself would be their beds, their saddles their pillows and the gra.s.s a combination mattress and spring. They had packed enough food with them, and, if needed, a calf could be killed and eaten. There were water holes in plenty--in fact, they could live off the land.
Over a fire of greasewood, while the hobbled ponies rolled on the ground, the bacon was soon sizzling and the coffee brewing.
"Gosh, but I'm hungry!" cried Nort.
"You said something!" declared his brother, while Bud and the others smiled at the fresh enthusiasm of the easterners.
There was really not much to do after darkness had settled down, for the cattle were comparatively quiet, and after a full day of eating the sweet gra.s.s, having drunk their fill of water, they were content to lie under the silent stars.
But in order that none of the steers might start to stray away, and start a stampede, also in order that no thieves might sneak up in the darkness and "cut out" choice cattle, by this very operation also starting a panic, it was necessary to "ride herd."
That is, the cowboys, of whom Nort and d.i.c.k now counted themselves two, took turns in slowly riding around the bunched cattle during the night hours. As the early hours were always the ones when it was most likely trouble would happen, the two veteran cowboys volunteered for this service, leaving Bud and his cousins to make their beds, such as they were, near the little fire. The boy ranchers would relieve the others after midnight.