Boy Ranchers on the Trail; Or, The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers

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Boy Ranchers on the Trail; Or, The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers Page 6

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER VI

  MISSING STEERS

  Like a flash Bud, who had been standing beside Nort, to watchthe effect of Dick's try, turned and faced outward to view thedarkening valley, whence had come the sound of that shot. Nortturned also, but Dick seemed to think one of his companions hadplayed a trick on him.

  "That isn't fair!" cried the stout lad. "What'd you want to goand bust that bottle for, Nort?"

  "I didn't do it!" asserted his brother.

  "Nor I," added Bud in a low voice. "The shot came from outthere," and he indicated the long and fertile valley, over whichthe purple evening shadows were falling. "Duck, fellows!" hesuddenly cried, and he pulled Nort beside him in the grass.

  Dick, who caught the words of warning, and saw what his cousinhad done, also dropped down, so that, a second or two after thefiring of the strange shot that had shattered the bottle, onlythe heads of the boy ranchers showed above the grass, and thenonly slightly. "What's the idea?" asked Dick, as silence followedthe measure of safety.

  "Whoever it was that fired might shoot again," replied End.

  "Who was it?" asked Nort.

  "That's what we've got to find out," answered Bud in a low voice.

  "Could it have been either Snake or Yellin' Kid, riding back andbreaking that bottle over our heads, to show what good shots theywere?" asked Dick.

  "No, I hardly think so," replied his cousin. "They're both goodshots, all right, and they could have broken that flask from thedistance it was broken. But they wouldn't throw a scare into usthis way. Besides, they haven't any time to fool around. Theyhave an all-night ride ahead of them."

  "What makes you think the bottle was busted from some distance,Bud!" Dick wanted to know.

  "The way the bullet sounded," was the answer. "It was almostspent when it got here, but it had force enough to break theglass, and would have damaged us if it hit us. I thought whoeverplayed that fool trick might try another shot, so I yanked youdown, Nort."

  "Glad you did! I might not have thought of it. But whoever it wasdoesn't seem to be going to shoot again."

  "No," agreed Bud, after a little period of silence, during whichno other menacing crack of a weapon was heard. "But we'll wait alittle longer."

  Through the fast-gathering darkness the boys looked out fromtheir semi-hiding places across the valley. No wisp of smoke, andno movement of horse or rider was to be observed. And silenceonce more settled down on Happy Valley--not quite so happy as ithad been. For, following the clearing-up of the mystery of thewater supply, new and sinister events seemed pending for the boyranchers.

  But, as yet, there were only straws, showing which way the evilwind was blowing.

  "Could it have been a chance shot?" asked Dick, raising himself alittle to get a better look.

  "That bullet was aimed straight for the bottle, over our heads,"declared Bud. "It was no chance shot."

  "One of ours couldn't have glanced, could it?" Dick wanted toknow.

  "Surely not!" affirmed Bud. "Why, no one had shot for some time.I'd just put the new bottle on the stick for you."

  "Yes, and I was just going to shoot, when somebody took thebullet out of my gun, so to speak," went on Dick, grimly jesting.

  "Do you think they were shooting at--us?" asked Nort,hesitatingly.

  Bud did not answer for the moment, and when he did it was to say,as he suddenly arose:

  "If they did I'm going to give 'em another chance. And I'm goingto do some shooting on my own account!" He had his gun in hishand, for he had so held it since he had shattered the firstbottle, and now it was grasped in readiness for instant action.

  "We're with you!" cried Nort and Dick, as they emerged from theirrecumbent positions in the grass, and hastened to the side oftheir cousin.

  But though they looked across the valley, now half shrouded ingloom, and up and down, as far as they could see, no one was insight. Here and there were small herds of their cattle. Back atthe camp tents Buck Tooth was performing his evening duties, or"chores," as Bud called them. The Indian paid no attention to theshooting, for he knew the boys had gone to practice, and he couldnot be expected to realize that one of the shots was, possibly, ahostile one.

  I use the word "possibly" with reason, for, as yet, there wasnothing to show that it was not either an accident, or had notbeen fired by some passing cowboy who, from a distance, seeingthe bottle on a stick, could not resist a chance to "take acrack" at it. And yet this last theory would seem to be a poorone. For if the shot had been a joke the one who had fired itwould, in all reason, it appeared, have shown himself soon after.

  "No one seems to show up," remarked Nort at length, in a lowvoice.

  "Then we'd better look for 'em before it gets too dark," declaredBud. "Come on! Let's get our horses."

  "Isn't it taking a chance, riding out to look for some one whomay have fired at us purposely?" asked Dick.

  "Yes," agreed Bud, after a moment's thought, "but life out westis all more or less of a chance and risk. You take a risk, everytime you ride at more than a foot-pace, of your pony steppinginto some prairie dog's hole and not only laming himself, butkilling you. But you don't stop riding on that account."

  "No," agreed Nort.

  "And we take a chance every time we ride herd," went on Bud. "Thesteers may stampede, and before we can get 'em to milling, theymay rush over us. But I notice neither of you ever back out ofthat job; do you?"

  "No," agreed Nort, adding: "Well, then, I reckon going after thisunknown shooter isn't taking such a long chance."

  "I'm with you!" exclaimed Dick.

  Briefly telling Buck Tooth what had happened, the boy ranchersrode off at a fast pace, to take advantage of what little lightof day remained. They headed, as nearly as they could ascertainit, in the direction whence the single shot had come. But it ishardly needless to say they found no one, and no sign that couldbe construed into a tangible clue.

  "We'll tell Snake and Yellin' Kid about it when they come back,"decided Bud, as he and his cousins returned to camp when darknesshad completely fallen. For it was useless, after that, to searchfor the perpetrator of the joke.

  Or was it a joke?

  That is what the boy ranchers asked themselves more than once.

  Contrary to their half-formed expectations, the night passedquietly. There was no disturbance among the cattle, and nomidnight visitors invaded the camp. But, for all this, the slumbersof our heroes were not easy. Perhaps they had premonitions ofcoming disaster.

  For disaster came, with the return, early on the morning of thenext day, of Snake and Yellin' Kid.

  "They're after you, Bud!" shouted the cowboy with the loud voice."They're after you!"

  "Who?" asked Bud, as he and his cousins came out to meet thecowboys.

  "Rustlers!" was the grim answer. "There's a lot of your steersmissin' from that far herd! Rustlers, Bud! Rustlers!"

 

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