CHAPTER III.
THE HELPING HAND.
When Ned made this announcement the others exchanged looks in whichwonder struggled with curiosity.
"Tell me about that, now," muttered Jimmy; "was there ever anythinglike the luck that chases after us all the while? Here we start out tovisit Harry's uncle, so he might carry out a mission that his folkssent him on, and of course the Government must a guessed all about it,since they went and laid a game to be hatched out right in the samepart of the Wild and Wooly West. Can you beat it?"
"Let Ned tell us what the game is, can't you, Jimmy?" demanded Harry.
"Yes, and please don't break in again with your remarks until he's allthrough," added Jack. "It bothers a fellow to make connections when youget started. If you must talk, why, we'll throw in and hire a hall forthe occasion. Now, Ned, tell us what the Secret Service folks want youto do."
"I've had a message in cipher from my people in Washington, telling methat while I'm out in this section they'd like me to look up one ClemParsons, who's been wanted for a long time on the charge ofcounterfeiting Government notes. When last heard from he was running astage line somewhere in the country of the Colorado and doing a littlein the way of fleecing unsuspecting travelers who come out here to seethe wonders of the Canyon. So from now on we'll begin to ask questionsand see whether we can get on the trail of this gentleman who's givensome of the smartest agents in the Secret Service the call-down."
"And then they have to depend on Ned Nestor and his able assistant,Jimmy McGraw," remarked the last mentioned scout; "excuse me, fellers,but if you don't blow your own horn, who d'ye reckon'll be fool enoughto do it for you? But Ned, if our luck holds as good as it generallydoes, chances are ten to one this same Clem Parsons will come tumblingright up against us. It seems like you might be a magnet and they allhave to come our way sooner or later."
"Any description of what he looks like?" asked Jack, who had known Nedto get similar orders on previous occasions and could guess that it wasnot all left to his imagination.
"Yes, they tell me he is tall and thin and has a scar on his leftcheek. He used to be a cow puncher at one time and might be working athis old trade now. That's a point to remember when we get to the DoubleCross Ranch. Every puncher will have to run the gantlet of our eyes andif one of them happens to be marked with a scar on his left cheek,it'll be a bad day for him."
"Now, wouldn't it be queer if we _did_ run across the mutt there atyour uncle's place, Harry?" remarked Jimmy. "But here we are again,Ned, uniting business with pleasure like we've done heaps of timesbefore now. Mr. Clem Parsons, I'm sure sorry for you when thiscombination gets started to work, because you've _got_ to come in outof the wet and that's all there is to it!"
It might appear that Jimmy was much given to boasting; but as a rule hemade good, so that this failing might be forgiven by those who knew himand his propensity for joking.
They moved out of town after getting a pretty poor apology for a lunchat the tavern. Jimmy declared that he would starve on such fare andannounced his intention of immediately opening a box of crackers he hadpurchased at a local store so as to keep himself from suffering.
Ned, as was his habit, had interviewed about everybody that crossed hispath, so as to improve upon the rude map he carried and which he hadfound to be faulty on several occasions, which fact caused him todistrust it as a guide.
"We ought to make the ranch by tomorrow evening, if all goes well," hetold his three chums, as they walked onward over the plain, stillheading almost due southwest.
"Not much danger of anything upsetting our calculations from now on,"observed Jack, "unless we meet up with drunken punchers, run acrosssome bad men who have been chased by the sheriff's posse out of therailroad towns and who try to make a living by holding up travelersonce in six months; or else get caught in a fine old prairie fire."
"Say, that last could happen, that's right," Jack went on to exclaim,looking a little uneasily at the dead grass that in places completelyconcealed the greener growth underneath. "If a big gale was blowing anda spark should get into this stuff she would go awhooping along as fastas a train could run. That's something I've often read about andthought I'd like to see, but come to think of it, now that I'm on theground, I don't believe I care much about it after all."
"They say it's a grand sight," Harry volunteered; "but according to mymind a whole lot depends on which side of the fire you happen to be.What's interesting to some might even mean death to others."
"Yes, I've read lots about the same," admitted Jack, "and of thetrouble people have had in saving themselves when chased by one ofthese fires on the plains. If we do see one of the same here's hopingwe are to windward of the big blaze."
When the sun sank that evening they were hurrying to reach what seemedto be a stream of some sort, judging from the line of trees that cutacross the plain and which only grow where there is more or less waterto be had.
The three burros must have scented the presence of water, for there wasno keeping the animals within bounds. They increased their pace untilthey were almost on the run; and Jimmy threw away the fag end of a whipwith which he had been amusing himself by tickling the haunches of theburro in his charge and urging him to move along faster.
One of the animals started to bray in a fashion that could have beeneasily heard half a mile or more away.
Hardly had the discordant sounds died away than the boys wereconsiderably surprised to hear a shrill voice coming from directlyahead, as though the exultant bray of the pack animal had given warningof their presence to some one who needed assistance the worst kind.
"Help! Come quick and get me! Help--help!" came the words as clear as abell and causing Harry and Jimmy to stare at each other as though theirfirst thought might have been along the line of some deception that wasbeing practiced upon them.
But there was Ned already on the jump and shouting over his shoulder ashe ran:
"Jimmy, give your burro over to Harry to look after; you too, Jack andfollow me on the run!"
"That suits me all right!" cried Jack; "here Harry, please look aftermy pack!" and with these words he was off at full speed.
Jimmy was close at his heels. He had only waited long enough to snatchhis rifle from the top of the pack on the burro that had been giveninto his charge after his own had been lost in the mountain disaster.Jimmy was always thinking they might be attacked by Indians off theirreservation or else run across some bad men who liked to play theirguns on strangers just to see them dance. For that reason he seldom ifever allowed himself to be caught far away from his repeating Marlinthese days.
When they had pushed into the patch of cottonwoods they found that Nedwas already at work trying to lend the assistance that had been solustily called for in that childish treble.
A figure was in the stream, although just his head and a small portionof his body could be seen. He was stretching out his hands towards Nedin a beseeching manner that at first puzzled Jimmy.
"Why, I declare if it ain't a little boy!" he exclaimed; "but what's hedoin' out there, I want to know? Why don't he come ashore if thewater's too deep. What ails the cub, d'ye think, Jack?"
"Don't know--might be quicksand!" snapped the other, as he once morestarted to hurry forward.
Ned was talking with the stranger now, evidently assuring him thatthere was no further need of anxiety since they had reached the spot.
"Can't you budge at all?" they heard him ask.
"Not a foot," came the reply; "seems like I mout be jest glued downhere for keeps and that's a fact, stranger."
"How long have you been caught there?" asked the scout master.
"Reckon as it mout be half hour er thereabouts," the boy who was heldfast in the iron grip of the treacherous quicksand told him; and so faras Jack could see he did not exhibit any startling signs of fright, forhe was a boy of the plains and evidently used to running into troubleas well as perilous traps.
"Never let out a yip till I ketched that burro speakin'," the boyreplied; "what was the use when I didn't think there was a singleperson inside o' five mile? I jest tried and tried to git out but shehung on all the tighter; and the water kept acreepin' up till it'd beenover my mouth in ten minutes more I reckon."
"Well, we are going to get you out of that in a hurry, now," Ned toldhim in a reassuring tone; "Jack, climb up after me, to help pull.Jimmy, you stand by to do anything else that's wanted."
Ned, being a born woodsman, had immediately noted the fact that thelimb of a tree exactly overhung the spot where the boy had been trappedin the shifting sand. This made his task the easier; but had it beenotherwise he would have found some means for accomplishing his ends,even though he had to make a mattress of bushes and branches on whichto safely approach the one in deadly peril.
Creeping out on that stout limb Ned dropped the noose of his rope downto the boy, who was only some six feet below him.
"Put it around under your arms," Ned told him; but as though heunderstood the method of procedure already, the boy in the sand waseven in the act of doing this when Ned spoke.
"Tie the end around the limb and let me pull myself up, Mister, won'tyou?" the boy pleaded, as though ashamed of having been caught in atrap, and wishing to do something looking to his own release.
This suited Ned just as well, though he meant to have a hand in thepulling process himself and also give Jack a chance. So when hefastened the rope to the limb of the tree he did so at a point midwaybetween himself and Jack.
"Get hold and pull!" he said in a low tone to his chum; for already wasthe boy below straining himself with might and main to effect his ownrelease.
It would have proved a much harder task than he contemplated; but thescouts did not mean that he should exhaust himself any further intrying. They managed to get some sort of grip on the rope and then Nedcalled out cheerily:
"Yo heave-o! here he comes! Yo-heave-o! up with him, Jack! Now, oncemore, all together for a grand pull--yo-heave-o! Hurrah, he's nearlyout of the sand!"
Five seconds later and the energetic boy was scrambling across the limbof the tree; and in as many minutes all of them had descended to theground, the end accomplished and nobody much the worse for theexperience.
"It was a close call for me, that's sure," the boy was saying, as hegravely went around and shook hands with each one of the scouts, notexcepting Harry, who had meanwhile come up, leading the three burros;"an' I want you all to know I'm glad that donkey let out his whoop whenhe did. Why, I might a been all under when you got here; but say, Ilost my gun and that makes me mad."
Looking at the boy more closely they were struck with the fact thatwhile he did not seem to be more than nine years old, he was dressedlike a cow-puncher and had a resolute air. How much of this was assumedin order to impress them with the idea that he had not been alarmed inthe least by his recent peril, of course no one could say. Ned waswondering how the boy, brought up undoubtedly amidst such perils and onthe lookout for danger all the while, could have fallen into such asilly little trap as this.
"What were you doing in the stream that you stood there and let thesand suck you in?" he asked as he proceeded to help the boy scrapehimself off so as to appear more presentable.
"I was a little fool, all right," the kid immediately answered, with anexpression of absolute disgust on his sharp face; "you see, I glimpseda bunch of deer feeding just over yonder to windward and as they wereheadin' in this way I thought I'd lie low under the river bank and waittill they got inside easy gunshot. I tied my pony over in the thickestplace of the timber and then walked out to where the water jest come tomy knees, where I got low down to wait. Say, I was that taken up withwatchin' them deer afeedin' up that I forgets all about everything elseand was some s'prised to feel the water tricklin' around my waist like.After that I knowed the huntin' game was all up, and that less I wantedto be smothered I'd have to get out in a hurry. But it didn't mattermuch how I pulled, an' heaved and tried to swim I jest stuck like I wasbolted down to a snubbin' post and somebody had cinched the girth onme. Then, after a while, when I was expectin' to swaller water, I heardthat burro singin' and afore I could help it I jest hollored out. Guessyou must a thought it was a maverick. I could a kicked myself rightaway afterwards 'cause I give tongue so wild like!"
Ned smiled. He realized that the cub had imbibed the spirit of theIndian warrior who disdains to display any weakness of the flesh. Nomatter how much he may have been frightened by his recent terriblepredicament, he did not choose any one to know about it. Indians may_feel_ fear but they have learned never to show it by look or actionand to go to their deaths, if need be, taunting the foe.
"Well," he told the small boy, "we intended to camp for the night hereclose to the river and we'd be glad to have you stay over with us.Plenty of grub for everybody and it might be much more pleasant thanbeing by yourself. We are not Western boys but then we've been aroundmore or less and know something about how things are done out here.Will you join us--er--"
"My name is Amos, Amos Adams, and I'll be right well pleased to stayover with you to-night, sure I will," the boy went on to say.
So it was settled, and out of just such small things as their meetingAmos in such a strange way great events sometimes spring. But none ofthe scouts so much as suspected this when they busied themselvespreparing the camp, building the cooking fire, and seeing that all theanimals were staked out to feed, after watering them.
Boy Scouts on the Open Plains; Or, The Round-Up Not Ordered Page 3