The Broncho Rider Boys on the Wyoming Trail

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  TREACHERY.

  "Now, what's this all mean, Billie?" demanded Adrian, when they hadjoined the fat chum, where the shadows were dense enough to fairlyconceal them from the view of any keen eyes nearer the fires.

  "Yes," added Donald, "you've gone and coaxed us over here, and now Ihope it isn't just to tell us you've got a pain, after stowing all thatstuff away."

  "Oh! you needn't ever bother about _me_ getting a bad feeling after I'vehad my little share of rations," Billie replied, sweetly; "but then,this don't have anything to do with eating. But all the same it's athriller."

  "Well, speak up, and let us know what's doing," Adrian said.

  "I was wondering whether Charley Moo could spare me just a teenty littlemore of that delicious stew, when he came and bent down to whispersomething in my ear, while pretending to be taking my dish. And what doyou think he said, fellows? Only that one of that bad bunch of punchershad been called in to talk things over with Mrs. Fred; and that if Iwanted to hear something of what they said Charley knew of a way itmight be done, providing I could crawl like a snake."

  "This sounds real interesting, Billie," remarked Donald.

  "And of course you said you could crawl better than any snake that everlived," added the other chum, desirous of hurrying things up; for italways took Billie an everlastingly long time to tell a story.

  "Well, I told him to show me the way, and I'd do the rest," Billie wenton to explain. "So he led me out of the mess room, and along a passagethat seemed to take us into the ranch house. Then he explained in hisheathen way that fortunately I was able to understand, how, by lyingdown flat, and hunching myself along, I could get to where there wasonly a thin partition, and even this had a knothole in the same throughwhich sounds would ooze."

  "The cunning Celestial knew all about that, did he?" remarked Adrian."Chances are Uncle Fred had him hired to watch his wife, and notify himif she seemed to be plotting with any of the punchers who sided withher. But what else happened, Billie? You did the grand crawling act allright, I reckon?"

  "Well, I guess, yes," chuckled the fat chum. "I managed to get close upto that same partition, and sure enough there _was_ a little blot oflight coming through the knothole Charley said was there. And while Icouldn't look through, because it was so low down near the floor Iwasn't able to crowd down that far, I could get my ear close to theopening, and was able to hear the talk that was going on in the otherroom."

  "And one of those five unfriendly punchers was in there, was he,conferring with Aunt Josie, when he ought to have taken his orders onlyfrom Uncle Fred?" Adrian went on to say.

  "He seemed to be the boss of the outfit of mean skunks," Billieadmitted; "and from the way he talked about your uncle I don't thinkhe's got much respect for him any longer. But the first thing I heardwas her asking what he'd done about sending word to her brother, which Itake it means that old rascal, Hatch Walker, the head of the rustlergang."

  "He's the man, Billie; and what reply did he make to that?" askedAdrian.

  "Why, he says as how he'd taken care of that job; because there wasalready one of his boys on his pony and riding straight for where therustlers showed up before it got too dark to see 'em. And as he hadgiven the fellow the signal he reckoned that he'd get among the bunchright soon."

  "And what message did this puncher say he had sent out to our enemies?"Donald inquired.

  "Just this--that along somewhere about midnight, when the chance openedwide up, the fellows left behind meant to bust open the fence of the bigcorral, and let the heft of the long-horns loose. They'd depend on theircronies to round 'em up, and make off with the lot."

  Adrian muttered something to himself, that might have been a threat asto what he would feel tempted to do should he have the opportunity lateron to use his repeating rifle on some of these bold cattle thieves. Asfor Donald, he gave a low but significant whistle to indicate hisfeelings.

  "That sort of tickled the lady, didn't it, Billie?" he asked.

  "I think it must have," was the ready reply; "because I heard herlaughing, and let me tell you, boys, it made a cold chill chase up anddown my spinal column to hear the way she laughed. My stars! but she's abad one; and I'm sorry Uncle Fred just has to put up with her the restof his natural life, because she's his wife, he says, and the lawcompels him to support her."

  "Well, go on, and tell us a lot more, Billie?" urged Donald.

  "Wisht I could," replied the fat chum, "but I've about got to the end ofmy string, you see, and'll have to halt, 'less you'd like me to make alot up."

  "Never mind trying that, Billie," said Adrian, quickly.

  "I should say not," added Donald; "you know how to keep everlastingly atit now; when you're just telling real hard facts; and if you everstarted to inventing things, I can see our finish right away. I suppose,then, the puncher went away after he told her about the messenger he'dsent to the Walker crowd?"

  "Yes, that's what he did," Billie admitted.

  "It's just on a line with what Uncle Fred expected they'd try,"suggested Adrian.

  "Wonder if anything could be done to stop that game?" Donald ventured.

  "We'll ask Uncle Fred," the other active chum went on to say. "P'raps,now, he'll think up a plan."

  "Huh! why not round the whole bad lot up, and make 'em prisoners?"suggested Billie, boldly enough.

  "That wouldn't be a bad scheme," admitted Adrian; "and I'm going topropose the same to him right away, when I tell him about this messengerwho's gone off. Even if nothing else came of it, we'd really be reducingthe number of our enemies by four, and that'd count for something in thelong run."

  "As for me," Donald declared, vehemently, "I can stand three openenemies to one who hides in the dark, or pretends to be a friend, onlyto stick a knife in your back when you're not looking. Yes, I'm in favorof taking these fellows, one by one, and making them prisoners. We mightput them in the bunk house, and have Charley Moo guard them. I ratherthink that moon-eyed cook can handle a gun, if one is put in his hand."

  "I should think he could," mused Billie; "and if he's half as good ahand with shooting-irons as he is with pot and kettle and frying-pan,you'll find him a real wonder; because, of all the stews I ever tackledthat one we had at supper took the cake."

  Once started on his favorite topic Billie would possibly have rambled onat a great rate; but chancing to look around just then he found that hewas wasting his breath on empty space, because Adrian had tapped Donaldon the shoulder; and the two had slipped silently away, leaving theother to talk to himself.

  They found Mr. Comstock moving about briskly, as though determined thatthere should not be a screw loose in the plan of campaign if it dependedon eternal vigilance on his part.

  Of course Adrian felt it his duty to tell him all about Billie's latestadventure, and Uncle Fred expressed himself as filled with admiration inconnection with the splendid work accomplished by the stout chum.

  "He's a dandy, that Billie is!" he went on to say, energetically; "andyou'd never think it, to look at his build. Why, he made the neatestgetaway awhile back that I ever set eyes on. Yes, I know all about thatlittle knothole in the board partition. It really looks into my office,you see, and on several occasions I've hired Charley Moo to listen therewhen Mrs. Comstock had sent for one of the men to report to her; becauseI knew it must be something in connection with another raid on thestock."

  "Now," Adrian went on to say, when the other paused, "we've been talkingit over, and both Donald and myself agreed with an idea Billie happenedto put out as a feeler."

  "As to what?" demanded the ex-manager of the ranch, eagerly.

  "Here are four punchers around," continued the boy, steadily, "who notonly don't mean to stand up with us and be counted, when trouble headsthis way; but they're only looking for a chance to do us a bad turn.Now, we thought that it'd be a good thing if the whole four suspectscould be tied, neck and heels, and kept prisoners until the sheriffcomes."

  Mr. Comstock rubbed his
hands together as though pleased with the idea.

  "That hits pretty close to the bull's-eye, let me tell you, son," heobserved. "I say it's a good thing, and we'll carry it out; that is,unless the sneaky coyotes get wind of our intentions, and slopemeanwhile. If they do clear out why it's a good riddance of bad rubbish,and we'll shake hands on seeing the last of the lot. I wouldn't cry myeyes out, and that's a fact, if some other person, who shall benameless, took a similar notion to desert my bed and board, and go backto her own kith and kin. Fact is, I'd be ready to sing hallelujah, anddance a hornpipe. But that'd be too good luck for me, I'm afraid. I wasdone, good and hard, but the law spliced us, and I have too great arespect for law to try and break the bonds through the courts--thoughrunning away is a different thing."

  The boys were shaking with silent laughter to hear the fierce little mangoing on in this manner. Like a good many other men he could be verybold when out of sight and hearing of his spouse; but let her once callhis name, and the spirit seemed to be taken out of him.

  It was now more than an hour after dark, and still they had seen andheard nothing to indicate that there were enemies near by, bent on somedaring scheme whereby the coveted stock might be stampeded, and thenpicked up far away on the open prairie, have the brands quickly changed,and find lodgment in the corrals of the several Walker ranches.

  The two boys took their turns at patrolling the corrals. Later on theyexpected to hear from Mr. Comstock again, when perhaps he had formulatedhis plans for the arrest of the suspects, providing they had not takenFrench leave by then.

  It was while they were at the further end of the big enclosure thatDonald called the attention of his chum to a suspicious light thatseemed to have sprung up over the field where the several haystacks werescattered about.

  "What d'ye think that can mean, Ad?" he asked, in an anxious tone.

  "It's none of our men, I'm dead sure," replied the other, quickly; "tellyou what, Donald, it looks to me as though one of the suspects is goingto fire that stack of hay! Yes, there it goes, and nothing can save thatpile now!"