Willard F. Baker

“ But they reckoned not with the roughness of the way, the start the rustlers had, their fresher horses and the fact that Del Pinzo and his crowd were more familiar with the trail than were the boy ranchers. So though our heroes rode on as fast as they could go with comparative safety, they did not, for some time at least, again come within sight of the enemy.
"Wait there! Hold on a little!" finally called Slim to Bud, Dick and Nort, who, in their youthful and natural eagerness, had forged to the front in a bunch. "Pull up! This isn't a hundred yard dash! It's going to be a long race!" ”

“ The stars shone clear and bright in the sky above, and occasionally a little wind swept up the dismal defile. Now and then a loose stone rattled down the sides of shale and volcanic rock, and at such times Dick, and even Yellin' Kid started, and felt for their guns. ”

“ For distant shouts borne to the ears of our heroes told of the excitement under way. As nearly as Bud, Nort and Dick could tell from their vantage point, eight or ten Mexicans, Greasers or other undesirable characters, had swept down from the north on Old Billee, Snake and Yellin' Kid as the latter were hazing the cattle along to the trail which led to the distant railroad station. Naturally the cowboys of Happy Valley had turned on their attackers and the fight resulted. ”

“ What's the row, Buck?"
"Robbers!" was the Indian's answer.
"Robbers? At Diamond X?" cried Bud.
"Did they get anything?" Dick wanted to know.
"Anybody hurt?" asked Nort.
"Get some money—nobody hurt only Babe—him get broken leg," half-grunted the Indian.
"Babe has a broken leg in a fight with robbers?" gasped Bud. "Shoot it along a little faster, Buck! I'm sorry I didn't let you ride harder at first. How much did they get? Was it rustlers, and I'll bet a cookie with a raisin in that Del Pinzo and his gang had a hand in the fracas! Did Babe shoot any of 'em?" ”

“ Though Bud and his father planned to erect substantial structures if this year was successful.
"A lot of good fodder going up in smoke, Bud!" yelled Nort, as he rode beside his cousin.
"If it isn't any worse than that we're lucky," was the answer.
"How do you mean?" asked Dick.
"I mean if we don't lose any cattle. The grass isn't any good after it dries up on the ground, the way this has. But if the fire starts a stampede of cattle—that will mean a loss."
"Do you think that's what the game is?" asked Nort, encouraging his pony, Blaze, by patting the animal's neck. ”

“ The boy ranchers and their cow punchers started work the next day. Dick and Nort remembered, in a dim way, how, as Boy Scouts, they had helped erect towers, hastily constructed of saplings. Their recalled knowledge, together with the natural adaptability and skill of the cowboys, finally succeeded in there being evolved, and erected, on the aide of the valley rather a pretentious tower. "It must look like an oil well derrick from a distance," observed Nort, when it was al most completed.
"What do we care how it looks, if it does the trick?" retorted Bud. ”

“ Then shale and dirt had been started, in a miniature avalanche, down the side of the slope, effectually hiding the means by which the cattle were secreted away.
"No wonder we thought an airship had been used," commented Dick.
Before them lay the vast crater of the old volcano, inactive for centuries. Nature had covered the hard lava with a layer of soil in which grew rich grass. And nature had further made the place an ideal corral for cattle by supplying a large spring of water. It was a "rustler's paradise," to quote Slim Degnan. ”

“ Merkel to his son, as Bud, with his cousins, rode slowly up to the ranch house, when the final calf had been cut out and the tally made. "You boys going back after grub?"
"Yep," answered Bud, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. He, like his cousins, was too tired. For the day had been a grueling one, with the heat and hard work.
"You sure did make out a whole lot better than I ever thought you would," said Mr. Merkel, as he rode along with his son and nephew's. "Putting water into that valley made a big difference." ”

“ And as the boy ranchers and their friends rode on into the vast, natural, volcanic bowl, and were able to take note of their foes, they saw that the rustlers outnumbered them two to one.
Bud's shot—the first of the fight—was the signal for general firing, though, as usual in such engagements, the initial fusilade was wild on both sides; mercifully so, it seemed ordered, for no one was hurt by the opening volley.
"There's going to be a hot time!" shouted Yellin' Kid, as he spurred forward. "And I don't see th' skunk that spoiled my hat! Where is he?" ”

“ She sure is clawed!" commented Mr. Merkel again.
"Mercy! It's a wonder we weren't all blown up in our sleep!" exclaimed Bud's mother. "You boys'll stay to dinner," she added, as if glad to change the subject.
"We aimed to," said Bud with a grin at his cousins. "We manage pretty well most times, with what we cook, and what Buck Tooth hands out in the grub line. But we sure do like a home-feed once in a while."
"Or twice!" added Nort, while Dick nodded his agreement. ”

“ He seemed to possess uncanny skill with the lariat, though some of his tricks could be duplicated by Snake, Yellin' Kid and even by the boy ranchers.
But life on a western ranch is not all fun and jollity, though as much of this as possible is indulged in to make up for the strenuous times that are ever present. So, after the roping exhibition was over, and the newcomer had been assigned certain duties, Bud, Nort and Dick rode down the valley, intending to look over the place where the steers had been stolen, and the carcass of one left as a grim reminder of the raid. ”

“ The cavalcade was now in a sort of narrow gorge, or gully, with rocky walls on either side, and only scant vegetation on the bottom, where some bunch grass grew. The water seemed to have disappeared.
"They can't drive cattle on a trail like this very far," said
Slim, looking about with critical eyes.
"And yet they did come in this gulch," said Bud, for the "signs" were still plain.
"Oh, yes, they've been here," agreed Slim. "It sure is a queer trail they picked. ”

“ For if the shot had been a joke the one who had fired it would, in all reason, it appeared, have shown himself soon after.
"No one seems to show up," remarked Nort at length, in a low voice.
"Then we'd better look for 'em before it gets too dark," declared
Bud. "Come on! Let's get our horses."
"Isn't it taking a chance, riding out to look for some one who may have fired at us purposely?" asked Dick.
"Yes," agreed Bud, after a moment's thought, "but life out west is all more or less of a chance and risk. ”

“ Cowboys, on the trail, or otherwise engaged in their work of the ranch or range, do not spend much time over the pleasures of the appetite. There is a time for feasting, and a time for chasing cattle rustlers, and there was no sense in combining the two. That, evidently, was the thought in the minds of Bud and his friends, for they hurried through their eating, and, having rested the horses, were soon in saddles again. ”

“ If I make a fizzle the fellows will give me the laugh!"
"What if they do? Everybody knows you haven't been at it long, and you've got to make a start. Besides, anybody's likely to make a mistake. That's why they put rubbers on the ends of pencils. Ride in now and snake out the next one, Nort!"
"All right, Bud! Here goes!"
Blaze, the pony Nort Shannon was riding toward the bunch of cattle gathered at Diamond X ranch for the big, spring round-up, leaped forward at the sound of his master's voice, and in response to the little jerk of the reins and the clap of heels against his sides. ”

“ Thanks! My name's Henry Mellon. I've ridden some for Curly Q and Long L if you want any references."
"I reckon my dad sized you up all right," spoke Bud.
"I reckon he did!" laughed Henry Mellon, or Four Eyes, as I shall call him, following the custom of the others on the ranch. "I wouldn't want to try to put anything over on him."
"It isn't exactly healthy," agreed Bud, for his father bore an enviable reputation for finding out the truth about matters in that "cow country."
"Ever ride for Double Z?" asked Yellin' Kid, and the loud tone's of his voice appeared to startle the newcomer. ”

“ Go after 'em and clean 'em up! When you take the trail don't turn back until you've finished the job. I'll send you as many men as I can spare, Slim Degnan with 'em!"
"Slim? That's good!" cried Bud. "Now we'll make a clean up. But don't get worried, Dad, if you don't hear from us in several days, or a couple of weeks. We'll probably be out of the reach of a telephone."
"Yes, I realize that! Well, good luck to you. When you going to start?"
"First thing in the morning. Old Billee was shot up a little, so I'll leave him and Buck Tooth to look after what cattle we have left. ”

“ Yellin' Kid trotted beside Old Billee, who, however, now that his bullet-scarred side had been bandaged, rode with more ease.
"What you goin' t' stop for?" asked Snake, when he saw Bud turning in toward the corral where spare ponies were kept. "Aren't you going after the rustlers?"
"Yes, when we get packed up for a long ride!" Bud answered grimly. "What's the good of riding over just to look at the place where they drove off our cattle? I can see that any time. What I want to do is to get on their trail."
"And not give up until we land 'em!" added Nort. ”

“ There must be some opening there out of the main canyon."
"If there is it's so well hid that it takes sharper eyes than I've got to find it," declared Snake, and he was noted for his far-seeing and clear vision.
"Go back!" exclaimed North impulsively. "We aren't going back, are we, until we get Del Pinzo and his gang?"
"Shoot 'em up—that's what I advise!" cried Yellin' Kid. There was a moment's pause, and Bud spoke.
"We're got two things to do," said the boy rancher. "One is to get our cattle back, and the other is to nab the rustlers. But it's more important to get the cattle, I think. ”

“ One of the cowboys, wiping the dust and sweat from his face, with his big, red silk handkerchief, or, rather, neckerchief, started this song. It was taken up by half a score of loud voices.
"Yi-yippy!" came in stentorian tones from Yellin' Kid. "This is the life!"
But as, just then, his pony slipped and he missed the throw he made for a calf, it is doubtful if Yellin' Kid felt as gay as he sounded.
"Hot work; eh, boys?" asked Mr. Merkel, when Dick, Nort and Bud rode past to get drinks of water. ”

“ Merkel's auto chugged down the trail from Diamond X.
"Well, boys, I hear you beat Del Pinzo at his own game!" greeted the rancher, while Nell expressed her sorrow at Dick's wound, to the somewhat jealous regard of Nort, whose hurt was more slight.
"Yes, he's where he won't blur any more brands right away," Bud answered. "But it looked like touch and go for a while. The troopers came just in time!"
"Well, you fellows seem to know how to take care of yourselves and the cattle," observed Bud's father. "Guess I'll turn one of my main ranches over to you. What say?" ”

“ Get 'em over here in the gasolene gig and we'll do the rest!" laughed Bud, though he was in anything but a laughing mood, His mind was grimly set on getting back his cattle, and in punishing the evil gang of rustlers that was dominating that section of the "cow country," as ranch localities are sometimes called.
Immediately on hanging up the receiver, Bud Merkel started in on a busy time. Nor were his cousins less engaged. Once the boy ranchers bad determined to "hit the trail," they planned to "do the trick up brown," as Nort expressed it. ”

“ But if you fight 'em then they'll make a big raid with a big gang, an' mebby, take all you got, Bud!"
"I'd like to see 'em try it!" cried the western lad. "And I won't sit by and have my cattle stolen; will we, fellows?" he appealed to his cousins.
"Not on your life!" declared Nort and Dick.
"Well, I shore do like t' hear you talk that-a-way," said Old Billee. "I didn't think you'd do it. Course it ain't no fun t' sit still an' let these onery Greasers walk off with your cattle. But, as I say, it's sometimes easier'n 'tis t' fight 'em. Lots of th' ranchmen do pay tribute in a way. ”

“ They can't go fast with a big bunch of cattle, and we're bound to catch them sooner or later!"
"They'll probably put up a fight," observed Old Billee, who was feeling much easier, now.
"That's what I'm counting on, and that's why I don't want any slip-up!" exclaimed Bud. "I'm going to call on Dad for some reinforcements."
"Oh, we can handle that Del Pinzo gang!" boasted Yellin' Kid.
"We could if they'd fight fair and even, maybe," assented Bud. "But they'll be on the lookout for trouble, now, and they'll have a big gang of Greasers with them. ”

“ It was not as easy as it looked, in spite of the fact that it was a trick.
"No one can throw, with any accuracy, a loop big enough to take in four horses on the run," declared Four Eyes when it had been demonstrated that he alone, of all the "bunch" at the Happy Valley ranch, could do what he had done. "At least if they can, I've never seen it. Two, maybe, or three, but not four. Putting your rope on the ground, and snapping it up as the horses get in it, is the only way I know."
"I wish you'd show me," spoke Nort. ”