The Motor Boys on a Ranch; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry Among the Cowboys

by Clarence Young

  Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  WITH A FUSILLADE OF REVOLVER SHOTS THE RAIDERS RUSHED TOTHE ATTACK.]

  THE MOTOR BOYS ON A RANCH

  OR

  Ned, Bob and Jerry Among the Cowboys

  BY

  CLARENCE YOUNG

  AUTHOR OF “THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES,” “THE JACK RANGER SERIES,” ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED

  NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

  BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG

  12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Colored Jacket.

  =THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES=

  THE MOTOR BOYS THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING THE MOTOR BOYS AFTER A FORTUNE THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE BORDER THE MOTOR BOYS UNDER THE SEA THE MOTOR BOYS ON ROAD AND RIVER THE MOTOR BOYS AT BOXWOOD HALL THE MOTOR BOYS ON A RANCH THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE ARMY THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE FIRING LINE THE MOTOR BOYS BOUND FOR HOME

  =THE JACK RANGER SERIES=

  JACK RANGER’S SCHOOLDAYS JACK RANGER’S WESTERN TRIP JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL VICTORIES JACK RANGER’S OCEAN CRUISE JACK RANGER’S GUN CLUB JACK RANGER’S TREASURE BOX

  Copyright, 1917, by Cupples & Leon Company

  =The Motor Boys on a Ranch=

  Printed in U. S. A.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I. DISAPPOINTMENT 1 II. HINT OF A MYSTERY 11 III. WHEN THE WHEEL CAME OFF 18 IV. “WE’LL STOP IT!” 27 V. LAST DAYS AT BOXWOOD 36 VI. OFF FOR THE WEST 47 VII. THE STOWAWAY 55 VIII. A BREAKDOWN 63 IX. THE CATTLE BUYER 72 X. A MIDNIGHT ALARM 81 XI. AT SQUARE Z RANCH 89 XII. EXPLANATIONS 95 XIII. A SENSATION 102 XIV. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 111 XV. OUT OF THE AIR 118 XVI. THE WRONG PONY 127 XVII. ANOTHER RAID 135 XVIII. TWO INVALIDS 142 XIX. ANOTHER ATTEMPT 151 XX. THE PROFESSOR’S DILEMMA 158 XXI. QUEER MARKS 167 XXII. ANXIOUS DAYS 174 XXIII. LETTERS FROM HOME 180 XXIV. QUESTIONS 188 XXV. THEIR LAST CHANCE 197 XXVI. SEEN FROM ABOVE 203 XXVII. THE LONE FIGURE 210 XXVIII. THE SECRET PASSAGE 217 XXIX. THE ROUND-UP 223 XXX. A FINAL SURPRISE 234

  NED, BOB AND JERRY ON A RANCH

  CHAPTER I

  DISAPPOINTMENT

  “Might have known it would turn out this way if we let _him_ managethings,” grumbled Ned Slade in disgusted tones as he slumped down onone of the forward lockers of a motor boat that was drifting slowlyin the middle of a blue lake. “Why didn’t you look after the detailsyourself, Jerry?”

  “Why, Bob said he would see that everything was all right and----”

  “Yes! And this shows how much he ‘saw.’ A chap with compoundastigmatism in both blinkers could see better than Bob Baker!”

  “Oh, come now,” protested Jerry Hopkins in soothing tones. “Aren’t youa bit rough on our fat chum,” and he glanced toward a stout chap whowas bending over the motor of the boat, tinkering with its variousparts in an endeavor to set it going again.

  “Rough on him?” expostulated Ned. “I should say not! I’m like a pieceof silk compared to a bit of sandpaper when I think of the things Icould say--and haven’t the heart.”

  “Don’t stop on my account!” snapped the heavy-weight, over hisshoulder. “Get it out of your system and maybe you’ll feel better.”

  “I won’t feel better until you get the engine started, so we won’t haveto stay out in this broiling sun. And to think there’s a fine feedwaiting us at the other end of the lake if we could only get to it! Ishould have thought you’d have had common sense enough, Bob, where theeats were concerned, to make sure of getting to them.”

  “Say! Look here!” and Bob turned fiercely on his tormentor. He triedto seem angry but the effect of a smudge of oil on one cheek, with adaub of black grease on the end of his nose, while one eye appeared asthough it had come off second best in a fistic encounter, caused histwo companions to laugh, which altogether spoiled the effect of thevigorous protest on which the youth had started.

  “How did I know this was going to happen?” he asked, waving a grimyhand at the engine, while, with the other, he beat a tattoo with amonkey wrench on the nearest cylinder. “Could I tell she was going tobreak down as soon as we got out in the middle of the lake?”

  “Break down nothing!” scoffed Ned. “You’re out of gasoline, that’swhat’s the matter. You didn’t have sense enough to see that the tankwas full before you started.”

  “Huh! I s’pose _you_ never overlook a little matter like that?” sneeredBob.

  “Of course not,” and, having spoken thus loftily, not to saysuperciliously, Ned turned away and gazed across the blue waters ofLake Carmona, now sparkling and rather uncomfortably hot under the Junesun.

  “Guess you don’t remember the time you invited the girls out in the carand got stalled on Mine hill just because of the same little old factthat you forgot the gas?” asked Bob. “How about that?”

  “There was a leak in the tank,” defended Ned.

  “It takes you to tell it.”

  “Oh, dry up and get started!” exclaimed the other.

  “Easy, boys,” counseled tall Jerry Hopkins. “This won’t get usanywhere. Is the gasoline really gone, Bob?”

  “I guess it is,” answered the stout lad. “I did forget to have ’em putsome in the tank, but I thought there was enough for the trip. Anyhow,you needn’t worry about starving. I put in a little sort of snack, as Ithought we might get hungry on the way.”

  A smile replaced the frown that had come over his face during thecontention with Ned, and Bob brought forth from a locker a large boxwrapped in paper.

  “Look what he calls a little snack!” mocked Jerry, laughing. “There’senough for a whole day’s rations.”

  “Oh, not quite,” declared the stout lad. “This lake air gives me awonderful appetite.”

  “Never knew you to be without an appetite,” commented Ned, and hisvoice was more friendly. “I’ll take back some of what I said, Bob.But for the love of sulphur matches, what are we going to do? Eating,pleasurable as it is, isn’t going to move the boat.”

  “I’ve a little gasoline in the can that I use for priming thecylinders,” returned Bob, after rummaging in the engine locker. “Thatmight take us a little way.”

  “Pooh! not a hundred yards,” scoffed Ned.

  “Anyhow, lack of gasoline isn’t the only trouble,” went on Bob. “Oneof the cylinders doesn’t work. It began missing a while back, beforethe gas gave out. Even with a tank full I couldn’t run the boat untilthat’s fixed.”

  “You get out!” advised Ned. “You forgot the gasoline and that’s allthere is to it. And you wanted to have charge of all the arrangementson this little cruise.
Well, you’ve had your way, but you won’t againif I know it.

  “There’s nothing to do now but row,” he went on. “Not another boat insight and there isn’t any likelihood of any coming up to this end ofthe lake to-day. They’re all down at those races. We’re booked for arow, and we ought to make you do it all, Bob Baker.”

  “I’ll do my share,” offered the smutty-faced, fat engineer.

  “Break out the oars!” cried Jerry. “Never say die! It might be worse.It’ll give us an appetite--rowing. It might be a whole lot worse.”

  Ned went aft to where, in a space along the locker tops, the emergencyoars were kept. He turned to Jerry and said:

  “It couldn’t be!”

  “Couldn’t be what?” the tall youth asked in some wonder.

  “Any worse. There aren’t any oars!”

  “No oars?” cried Jerry.

  “Nary an oar!”

  Both lads gazed at Bob. He regarded them with a crestfallen countenance.

  “Aren’t--aren’t they there?” he asked falteringly.

  “Look!” and Ned pointed to the vacant space.

  “Hang it all! I did take them out when I was at the dock,” Bobadmitted. “I couldn’t get at what was in the locker with the oars ontop, so I laid them on the wharf. I meant to put them back again,but----”

  Ned groaned and pretended to weep with his head hidden in his arms.Jerry smiled grimly. Bob scratched his head in perplexity.

  “Well, I guess the only thing to do is to let the boat drift and waitfor someone to come along and give us a tow,” sighed Jerry. “Meanwhile,there are the eats. Break out the grub, Bob, and we’ll solace ourselveswith that.”

  “This is the limit!” complained Ned. “If ever I come out with youagain, Bob Baker, you’ll know it!”

  “And if ever I ask you I’ll kick myself all around the campus,” was theretort.

  For a time Ned refused the tasty sandwiches which the stout ladhad, with prudent foresight, stowed aboard the motor craft. But theappetizing odor was too much for him and he capitulated, but in no goodspirits.

  “Cheer up,” advised Jerry. “You’ll get indigestion if you eat with sucha sour face, Ned. We’ll get there some time.”

  “Yes, and find that my father and Bob’s have gone on with their tripand we have missed seeing them. Dad was going to bring me some dough,too. And I need it,” he added as he turned his pockets inside out. “Nota nickel left, and I want to get tickets for the show to-night.”

  For a time the spirit of gloom seemed to settle down over the motorboat and her occupants.

  The three chums, Ned, Bob and Jerry, had set off early that afternoonfrom Boxwood Hall, where they were students, to cross Lake Carmona.They were going to Haredon, a small town on the other side of the bodyof water, and there Ned and Bob expected to meet their respectivefathers who were on a business trip together, and had written that theywould stop off to see their sons, and have dinner with them, beforeresuming their journey.

  The boys had hired a large motor boat, as their own, the _Neboje_, aswell as their automobile, had already been shipped to Cresville becauseof the approach of the summer vacation, and started on the trip. Thedetails of the expedition had been left to Bob. Jolly and good-natured,Bob never thought very far ahead, and the double calamity of not havinghad the gasoline tank filled and having taken out the oars, by whichthe boat could have been surely, if slowly, propelled, had left theboys becalmed in the middle of Lake Carmona on a hot day.

  Owing to the fact that there were some races being held on this day,nearly all the other students had gathered at the lower end of thelake, as had most of the craft of persons living on the shores. Thismade the middle and upper end deserted of the usual flotilla; so therewas scant chance of the boys getting a tow.

  They ate for a while in silence, and then Bob had an inspiration.

  “I believe it will work!” he cried.

  “What now?” asked Ned. “Have you found some way of getting ashore andbuying some gasoline?”

  “No, but we can put up a sail,” Bob went on. “Here’s the boat hook, andthe canvas cover of the engine is stuffed away in the stern.”

  He scrambled aft, hauled out a bundle of canvas, and then got the boathook. For a few seconds Ned and Jerry watched him. Then the tall ladsaid:

  “I believe it will work at that. Bob, you’re not so worse.”

  The motor boat, being heavy, did not move very fast under the smallsail area the boys spread. But at least they did move, and it wasbetter than being becalmed under a hot sun.

  They sailed on for perhaps two miles when they spied another motor boatwhich was evidently going to pass near them.

  “Hail him!” suggested Ned, and they attracted the attention of the loneskipper by toots on the electric horn. The man was a baker who made theround of the shore resorts delivering bread and pastry. He agreed, fora small sum, to tow them to Haredon and, several hours after they hadexpected to arrive, the boys reached the hotel where Mr. Baker and Mr.Slade had promised to meet them.

  “Your fathers aren’t here now,” the clerk told them. “They waited untilthe last train, then said they’d have to go. They left a note for you,however,” and he handed over a long envelope.

  “It’s for you, Ned,” said Jerry, reading the superscription.

  “But there’s something in it for each of us,” Ned declared, opening theenvelope.

  “Mine’s a letter from mother,” Jerry remarked, as he recognized hisparent’s handwriting. Mrs. Hopkins was a widow.

  “Mine’s from dad--short and to the point,” chuckled Bob. “He sayshe reckons I took so much time to eat that I missed connections andcouldn’t arrive on time. They’ll be here again next week, though.”

  “That’s what my father says,” sighed Ned. “Well, it’s adisappointment,” he went on, turning over the paper in his hand,“especially as I did need that money.”

  “Maybe he left some for you with the hotel clerk,” suggested Bob. “Ask,and, if he didn’t, I can lend you some.”

  “Thanks,” returned Ned. “I’ll ask.”

  The hotel clerk was apologetic enough, but, unfortunately, no money hadbeen left for any of the boys. Ned turned away, disappointment showingon his face. As he was debating with himself what was best to do hesaw, on the floor, half concealed by a time-table rack near the frontdesk, a folded paper.

  Half mechanically, he picked it up, unfolded it and, as he glanced overthe first few lines of writing, uttered an exclamation of surprise.

  “What’s the matter?” inquired Jerry. “Did you find some money afterall?”

  “Not quite as good as that,” was Ned’s answer. “This seems to be aletter to my father from his ranch foreman. Dad must have dropped itfrom his pocket when he was standing here paying his bill. And it’s got_some_ news in it, fellows! Listen to this!

  “Rustlers have been stealing cattle from the ranch, and the foremansuggests that dad come out in a hurry, or else send someone, to takequick action, as they haven’t been able to get the thieves. This is badbusiness sure enough!” and Ned’s face took on a serious look.