The Saddle Boys at Circle Ranch; Or, In at the Grand Round-Up

by Captain James Carson

  CHAPTER XX

  A WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING

  “S’pose Frank hold up—talk little ’bout White Wolf—no need hurry!”

  When Frank heard these words spoken in his ear by the old Moqui he threwup his right hand, to let Bob know he intended coming to a halt, so thatthe galloping horses might not collide.

  They had gone several miles in the direction of the ranch house, whichcould even then be seen in the far distance; with moving horsemendarting this way and that, as the process of the rounding up andbranding the cattle went on apace.

  “Havasupai wants to say something, Bob, and asked me to stop,” was theway the prairie boy accounted for his sudden change of mind.

  The Moqui slipped from the back of Buckskin to the ground. He wasevidently considerably tired from his long journey; but an Indian wouldscorn to admit such a thing, even though near the point of utterexhaustion. So the Moqui looked as full of grit and determination asthough he had only started out when they came upon him on the plain.

  “It may be,” he commenced to say, in his solemn way, “that White Wolfalready there, to play part of Mexican cowboy.”

  “Whew! we didn’t think of that, did we, Frank?” ejaculated Bob.

  “To tell the truth, we started off at such a wild pace that there wasn’ttime to think much of anything,” admitted his chum.

  “But do you believe it could be done?” persisted Bob. “There must becowboys working on the Circle Ranch range who knew this Mendoza in thepast; and wouldn’t they be apt to recognize the rustler if so be hedared come and engage to work alongside them?”

  “I don’t know,” Frank replied, thoughtfully. “A Mexican can change hislooks easy enough, you understand. We saw Mendoza in the Lost Valley,and as I remember him, he had a mustache, and little sideburns in frontof his ears, the way so many Mexican senors do. Suppose he took a notionto have a clean face, why, his best friend might pass him by, Bob.”

  “I reckon you’re right, Frank,” replied the other, shaking his head, asthough he did not exactly like the situation. “And now that we’respeaking of it, I just remember that among the extra punchers yourfather took on to hurry this round-up through, there are a number ofMexicans, who are among the best riders on the ranges.”

  “All right, Bob, then there’s a chance that one of them may be Mendozahimself, if what our friend here tells us turns out to be true, and nota false alarm.”

  “But would Mendoza dare risk his life in that way, by coming back to thecountry where every man’s hand is raised against him?” Bob asked,wonderingly.

  “They say he is a man of fierce temper, and strong hates,” Frankcontinued. “I’ve heard lots of stories about his daring. Some peoplechoose to call him a coward; but, bad man as he is, I don’t believe thatname fits him. And in all his career as a cattle rustler I don’t thinkhe ever had such a hard knock as when we snatched all his cattle awayfrom him, and our boys held him up a whole day in that bunk-house.”

  “Yes,” Bob admitted, “that sounds all right. I can understand how angryit must make a man like that to remember his profitable business ofhelping himself to other people’s horses and cattle has been frosted,and ruined forever in Arizona.”

  “And don’t you see, he must know that Circle Ranch was responsible forit all,” Frank continued. “And that means he hates everything connectedwith our place, you and me included in the lot. On the way to theborder, where his men intended crossing, so as to be safe from thepursuit they expected, Mendoza has been brooding over the fall of hisplans, and it just set him wild.”

  “Yes, that sounds as if you could look in on his camp, and see therustler walking up and down, saying all sorts of things to himself, andvowing to be revenged on Circle Ranch for his downfall. Frank, I hate toadmit it, but I’m afraid Havasupai may be right, and that the White Wolfis already galloping over our range, roping cattle, and mixing with ourboys like one of them.”

  “They used to say he was a cowboy once himself years ago, and knows allthe wrinkles of the business,” Frank went on. “It gives me a shiver justto think of that bad man being among our fellows. Why, even before now,perhaps, he’s found some excuse to get inside the ranch buildings, tolook around, and plan his game of setting fire to them to-night.”

  “But could he do that?” asked Bob, excitedly; “when all the boys areexpected to be busy with the roping and branding; wouldn’t it lookmighty suspicious for a Mexican to be prowling around the ranch house,where only the women folks, and Ah Sin are left?”

  “No matter what it would look like, a cunning schemer like Mendoza couldfind a way to get there,” Frank insisted. “Suppose now, in his work hecomplained of having wrenched his arm or shoulder, and asked to havesome liniment applied; don’t I just know that my dad would tell him togallop back to the house, and get Miss Prue, who always looks after thelittle hurts of the men, to rub on some of the famous stuff she keepsfor just that purpose?”

  Bob gave a low whistle, to indicate how he was affected by what his chumsaid.

  “It sure takes you to see through all these things, Frank,” he declared.“And yet I’m supposed to be going to make a lawyer some fine day; butthey don’t seem to dawn on my mind till after you’ve given me a hint.”

  “Oh! that’s because I’ve been brought up here,” said Frank. “I knowcowboys, and their ways, just through and through. And if Mendoza wantedto see what the inside of the ranch house looked like, and meet thewomen folks face to face, he’d be just as apt as anything to try someway like that. It would be easy for such a bold man, Bob.”

  “But what do you suppose the old warrior wants you to hold up here for?”asked the Kentucky boy, who could ask questions as became a lawyer, evenif he failed to grasp situations as readily as his chum.

  “How about that, Havasupai?” asked Frank, as he turned to the Moqui, whohad been listening to what they said with deep earnestness.

  “When rustlers get out of valley, and pick up other ponies, Havasupairide with same,” he said, slowly. “Still want see Antelope, and thinkWhite Wolf lead way to where the daughter of the Moqui be hidden away.Then watch while White Wolf walk up, walk down, say heap to self, shakefist back at Thunder Mountain; then when all rest sleep, jump on pony,and ride away to north. Know then what in mind of bad man. So Havasupaitoo leave camp, and start walk many miles to tell Frank, Bob, look outbefore blow it fall.”

  Evidently the old Moqui believed in condensing things, and not wasting asingle word more than was absolutely necessary. Still, while his storyleft much to the imagination, even Bob could read between the lines.

  “Looks to me that he may be right, Frank,” he declared, as the Indianrelapsed into silence once more, having finished his say, “if Mendoza isreally and truly playing the part of a cowboy in the Circle Ranch grandround-up, and saw us fetching Havasupai in on our ponies, of course he’dknow that his little game was in the soup. That would make him furious,wouldn’t it now?”

  “Yes, and he might be tempted to do something desperate, knowing thathe’d be chased by the whole pack of cowboys then and there. So you see,Bob, it’s our policy, just as the Moqui hints, to keep from tellingMendoza that we suspect his presence. That gives us a chance to telldad, and make up some sort of plan to capture the rustler before he canget in his bad work.”

  “You’re right, Frank,” observed Bob, “and I see it all now, thanks tothe Moqui, first of all. If it hadn’t been for him, I reckon you’d havebrushed right along into camp, and the fat would have been in the fireright away. Now we’ll ride back just as if we’d only had our gallop; andHavasupai can come in after dark. Is that the idea?”

  “You’ve got it down pat there, Bob,” returned the other; “and as theafternoon is going fast now, perhaps we’d better be on our way back. Ifeel a creepy sensation all over me every time I think of what thatrascal might do to get even with Circle Ranch for his upset.”

  “Didn’t you hear what Havasupai said about his poisoning the springwhere our cattle drink?” demande
d Bob.

  “Well, perhaps he might be ready to do such a thing, and again not,”Frank answered, slowly. “I’d hate to think any man would be so mean asthat. But no matter, his being at Circle Ranch looks like he had somescheme in his mind for getting even, and we’ve just got to nip it in thebud. Good-bye, then, Chief; see you later. You come to ranch house, myfather he wants to hold out a helping hand to you. He believes he knowswhere Antelope is; cowboy tell him. How?”

  Almost unconsciously when Frank talked with an Indian he adopted some ofthe methods of expression in vogue among the red men. Perhaps, likeothers born and brought up in close association with these people, hebelieved that he could make himself better understood this way.

  Havasupai nodded his head, and straightened up, as if ready to continuehis wearisome tramp. Fatigue and he were no strangers, and nothing ofthis sort could in any way daunt the spirit of the outcast.

  “It is well, Frank;” he said, in his deep way of speaking; “when darkcome, Havasupai will be close to ranch house, and on watch. No burn sameif can be stopped. Much good about Antelope; know now the White Wolf badman; never believe Havasupai. Be glad leave him all time. So-long.”

  The old Moqui had at least caught the parting sign of the range, for ashe finished speaking he waved his hand to the two boys as they let theirhorses have their heads, and galloped away toward home.

  Looking back once, after they had gone some little distance, Bob saw theexiled Moqui walking leisurely along. He knew from this that Havasupaidid not wish to get within a certain distance of the ranch buildingsbefore night fell, for fear that the cunning eyes of the Mexican rustlermight discover him.

  “What are we going to do about it, Frank?” demanded the Kentucky boy, asusual depending on his chum to take the lead.

  “First of all, let dad know,” replied Frank, promptly.

  “And perhaps he’ll start out to take a closer look at every Mexicanpuncher on the place?” suggested Bob. “Say, won’t there just be some‘high jinks’ when he finds Mendoza, and accuses him of wanting to burnthe buildings, or something about as bad? Whew, the Mexican will be somesurprised when he learns his mask is snatched off; eh, Frank?”

  “All the same I don’t believe dad will do anything like that,” was thereply the other made. “In the first place, it would be dangerous. Fatherwould be likely to hold back, just to see what the game of Mendoza mightbe.”

  “Oh! now I get on to what you mean!” exclaimed Bob; “in legal language,or as the police would say, he’d be better satisfied to catch him withthe goods, trying to set a fire, for instance. And let me say, Frank,your father would show what you’d call good, sound, horse sense if hedid let the fellow have rope that way. But say, I hope he tells a few ofthe boys. I’d feel safer if we had enough fellows handy to stop Mendoza,when he starts to get ugly.”

  “Depend on it he will, Bob. Dad never takes chances on such things. He’shandled too many deals with tough customers to think of going to sleep.But we’re getting close in now, and we’d better act natural. If you lookaround at every Mexican we happen to meet, don’t be too suspicious. Tryand forget that we suspect a snake is warming himself at the CircleRanch fires this evening.”

  “All right, Frank,” replied the other, cheerfully. “I’m on to what yousay, and don’t worry about my giving it away. But the work is throughfor to-day; because I can see the boys gathering in bunches while theywait for Ah Sin to beat the gong for supper. But I want to be with youwhen you tell your father the story, Frank.”