The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek Part 25

"A little," d.i.c.k answered, and he tried to smile, though it was not a very good attempt.

"Get back under cover," advised Nort, for there was cover, of a sort, behind where the cowboys were fighting, a range of low hills that would effectually screen the bullets of the Greasers.

"Oh, it doesn't amount to anything," d.i.c.k insisted, holding his left hand over his right, for it was the latter that was. .h.i.t. "It's only a scratch."

"Well, get a bandage on it and come back in the game--if you can, boy,"

advised Billee, who had ridden up on hearing d.i.c.k's cry. "We'll look after it later--when we drive these skunks back where they belong."

This, from Billee, amounted to an order, and d.i.c.k obeyed, wheeling his horse and taking refuge behind a hill. There, in antic.i.p.ation of some casualties, a sort of emergency dressing station had been laid out, with water, lint and bandages. There was water not only for man but for beast, since it was impossible to let the horses go to the creek in the face of the fire from the sheep men. So d.i.c.k and his steed drank thirstily and then d.i.c.k bandaged, as best he could, his wounded hand.

It was more than a scratch, being, in fact, a deep flesh wound, but the bullet had struck a glancing blow and had gone out again, for which d.i.c.k was thankful.

Meanwhile he could hear the shooting going on at the scene he had left.

The cowboys, riding up and down the bank of the creek on their fleet horses, offered very poor marks for the indifferent shooting of the Mexicans, or the casualties on the part of the Diamond X forces would have been much heavier than it was. Even then several were hit, and Billee's hat was carried off his head by a bullet, which, if it had gone a few inches lower, would have ended the career of that versatile cowboy.

But the quick and accurate firing of the cowboys was having its effect, and it was an effect that was telling not only on the morale but on the fighting ability of the sheep men. For several horses were killed, and a number of men put out of the game.

For a few minutes, though, it seemed that, after all, the attackers would make a landing. But with a burst of furious yells Snake and Kid led a charge against the foremost of the sheepmen and turned them back.

They could not stand the withering fire that was poured in on them and they wheeled their plunging horses in the swirling stream and made for the opposite sh.o.r.e whence they had come.

"Hurray!" cried Bud as he saw this.

"We've got 'em on the run!" shouted Nort.

Just then d.i.c.k rode back to join the fray, having bound up his wounded hand as best he could unaided.

"What's doing?" he asked.

For answer his brother and cousin pointed to the retreating Greasers.

"Good!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "Do you think they'll come back?" he asked.

"No telling," remarked Bud.

"I don't believe we'll have gotten rid of them so easily," was Nort's opinion.

There was some confusion now amid the ranks of the sheep men. Those who were wounded were being cared for, and they all gathered around what had been their central camp fire.

"They're debating whether to give up or not," was Snake's view of it.

And if this was the subject of the talk it ended in a decision not to give up the fight. For presently another attempt was made to cross the creek. This time the Greasers divided forces, separating about a quarter of a mile, and thus necessitating a division in the ranks of the cowboys. This, of course, made the odds against the Diamond X outfit rather heavier.

But again the Greasers were repulsed, with several wounded, though the same might be said of Old Billee's forces. Again the sheep men withdrew across the creek.

Again was there a conference, and then the same tactics were tried as at first--the main body came directly across the stream.

But now a new element entered into the battle. For, no sooner had the fight started for the third time than some of the Mexicans began driving into the water, at a point perhaps half a mile from the fray, a flock of sheep.

"Look at that!" cried Yellin' Kid.

It was evident that something must be done. It called for another division of the defending force, now somewhat reduced in numbers because of injuries. But the crossing of the sheep had to be stopped, as well as the pa.s.sage of the armed men.

And, after a hard struggle, this was accomplished. The sheep were the easier driven back, for the animals were soon frightened and thrown into confusion. But the Mexicans themselves were desperate, and some of them even succeeded in reaching the opposite sh.o.r.e, setting their horses on Mr. Merkel's land.

However, there was a fierce rally against them on the part of the cowboys and they were driven back.

This was not without desperate work, however, and several on each side suffered minor injuries. The trouble was that the cowboys held their enemies too lightly. It was easy, and perhaps natural, for them to despise the sheep herders.

But, after all, these were men, and rough and ready men at that. They had something to fight for--their lives and their charges, and to lose one was to endanger the other. So, for a time it looked, as Bud said afterward, "like touch and go," so near was the tide of battle to turning against the cowboys.

Both sides were now pretty well exhausted, but the disadvantage of having to cross the stream still hampered the Greasers. They must have felt this, for after another consultation among themselves something new and unexpected happened.

A lone rider was seen to separate himself from the hated band on the Mexican side of the creek, and he slowly approached the ford.

"Watch him!" cried Billee, who had picked up his hat with a hole in the brim.

"He's up to some trick!" declared Bud.

"Shouldn't wonder, son," agreed Billee.

A moment later they saw what the "trick" was, if such it could be called. From under his coat the man produced a white flag and waved it vigorously toward the boy ranchers and their friends.

"A truce!" cried Bud. "Guess they've had enough!"

CHAPTER XXI

A LEGAL CONTEST

Holding the flag of truce above his head with both hands, the better to indicate that he was unarmed, the man, a bearded Mexican to all appearances, rode his horse half way across the stream. He was then within easy talking distance of the cowboys and Old Billee called:

"That's far enough, Greaser! Stay right where you are and speak your little piece. Keep him covered, boys," he went on in a low voice to those around him.

"Oh, he's covered all right," replied Bud. And, indeed, half a dozen guns were trained, more or less conspicuously, on the bearer of the flag of truce.

"Well, say what you've got to say," ordered Billee grimly.

"_Senors_, we have had enough of fight--for the time," came from the herald.

And at the sound of his voice the boy ranchers, with one accord, exclaimed:

"Del Pinzo!"

"At your service, _senors_," came the mocking retort, and Del Pinzo, for he it was, smiled, showing his white teeth through his black, curling beard. It was the beard which had prevented his recognition up to now. Though there was something vaguely familiar about the actions of the leader of the sheep men. And he who bore the flag of truce--Del Pinzo no less--had been the leader in the attempts to cross the creek.

"Well, what do you want?" demanded Billee. "We might have known it was some of your dirty work, though I must say you've got a pretty good false face on with all them whiskers. What do you want?"