Boy Ranchers; Or, Solving the Mystery at Diamond X

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Boy Ranchers; Or, Solving the Mystery at Diamond X Page 11

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER XI

  BAD BUSINESS

  "My mistake, Del Pinzo! My mistake!" exclaimed Bud, smiling asgood-naturedly as possible under the circumstances. The young rancherleaped from Sock (so called because he had one white foot that lookedexactly as if he had on a sock) and approached the Mexican, who hadbegun to loosen the lariat from around his body.

  "I sure didn't know you were there, Del Pinzo," went on Bud,soothingly. "I was just showing these tenderfeet how to throw a rope,_pronto_,--when up you sprout, and get the benefit of it. Hope Ididn't ruffle you any?" asked Bud.

  "Hum! Too much _pronto_!" muttered the man, but his face lost some ofits scowl as he realized it had been an accident.

  "What's _pronto_?" whispered Dick to Nort, noting that his brother hadhalf drawn his gun, though there was no need of this action.

  "Means quick," translated Bud, who overheard the question. "I was alittle too quick with my rope. But I didn't know anybody was behindthat stump."

  "Nor I," said Dick, while Bud began gathering in the length of hislariat.

  "I--sleep!" said the Mexican; with some of the gutturalness of theIndian. "No got a right to sleep?" he asked, half sarcastically, as herecovered his gun from where it had slipped from its holster.

  "Sure you got a right to sleep," admitted Bud cheerfully. "This isn'tDiamond X land, nor yet Double Z," he added, with a quick glancearound. "Not that you wouldn't have a right to take a snooze if it_was_ Diamond X," Bud went on. "Well, I reckon we'll mosey along," hesaid slowly, making a sign to Dick and Nort to mount their ponies."Got to get back to the ranch."

  "Um!" was all the remark Del Pinzo made as he brushed himself off.Bather a useless proceeding it would appear, for he was always dirtyand unkempt to the last degree.

  "Who is he?" asked Dick of Bud as the three boy ranchers rode along thehomeward trail, now out of earshot of the man Bud had sounceremoniously roped.

  "Oh, he's a sort of Mexican half breed," was the answer. "Not verysafe to have on the range during round-up."

  "Why not?" asked Nort, as he turned to catch a last glimpse of theMexican slinking off amid the foothills.

  "Well, he and his kind don't stop to look at the brand on a steer ifthey happen to feel hungry," explained Bud. "They'll cut one out ofthe herd, or appropriate a maverick, or an unbranded calf, and feast upon it. They'll skin it, salt down the hide after they blur the brand,and get away with it."

  "What's blurring a brand?" asked Dick.

  "Putting a hot iron on it over the brand that's already there,"explained Bud. "Some brands can be changed from one to another withoutmuch trouble, but when this can't be done a cattle thief will simplymake a botch of the brand, and it's a pretty slick ranchman who willswear, out of hundreds of steers and calves, that any particular one ishis, if he can't make out the brand or earmarks clearly."

  "Earmarks?" questioned Nort.

  "Sometimes we clip a piece out of a calf's ear," explained Bud, "aswell as branding 'em. Each ranchman has his own particular earmark forhis cattle. But either may be botched or blurred by a thief if he'scute enough."

  "And does this Del Pinzo do that?" asked Nort, a little thrilled athaving been in such close association with a cattle thief.

  "I wouldn't put it past him, and the gang he hangs out with," Budanswered. "Maybe that's what he was up to when I roped him."

  "Where does he hang out?" asked Dick.

  "He's supposed to work on the Double Z ranch--Hank Fisher's place," wasthe reply. "And Hank doesn't bear any too good a reputation aroundhere."

  "Maybe he was one of the men the professors hired, and who afterwardturned against them," suggested Dick.

  "Maybe," assented Bud. "I'd like to know what that camp meant," hemurmured as he rode on with his cousins.

  "If they aren't after gold, they're after something, and they're makinga secret of it," declared Nort. "And meeting Professor Wright thenight an attempt was made to steal some of your cattle, Bud, makes itlook as if the whole outfit might be trying to rustle off stock."

  "Yes, it might, and again it might not," said the western lad. "I'dhate to think two decent-looking men, like Professor Blair andProfessor Wright, would be cattle thieves. But you never can tell.Their learned appearance may be all bluff. I'd sooner think it was DelPinzo and his gang. But he may be working with the professors.Anyhow, they haven't got away with anything yet, and they won't ifdad's boys keep their eyes open. Only I would like to solve themystery of that camp," and he looked back toward the deserted one,where some strange excavations had been made.

  "Maybe we can trail 'em and find where they've gone," suggested Dick.

  "Oh, we could find 'em if we wanted to," said Bud. "An outfit likethat can't travel along in a ranch country and not leave a trail likean old buffalo wallow. But will it be worth while--that's thequestion? We'll soon be busy with the round-up at Diamond X, and notime for trailing mysteries."

  "Well, the round-up won't last forever," said Nort, "and when it's overwe can see what all this means. It'll be a pack of fun!"

  "It sure will!" agreed his brother, "and we can stay here till snowflies."

  "And then you'll want to hit the trail for home," laughed Bud. "Thoughwe don't get as severe storms as they do farther north, nor do theycome so early. But it's bad enough, sometimes."

  "What's that?" suddenly asked Dick, rising in his stirrups and pointingto two or three figures of horsemen, down in a little swale, or valley.They were evidently engaged in some lively occupation, for they wereriding rapidly to and fro, and from a fire, about which knelt threefigures, a curl of smoke arose.

  "They're stealing some of your cattle now!" cried Nort. "Come on!We'll capture 'em!"

  He spurred his horse forward, an act instinctively followed by hisbrother. Bud, too, rode after them at a fast pace, but there was asmile on his countenance.

  "Keep your shirts on, fellows!" he advised. "That's only some of theDiamond X outfit branding stray calves they come across. But it'llgive you a chance to see how it's done."

  Riding rapidly across the open plains, where, here and there as theytopped little hills the boys could see cattle grazing, the boy ranchersapproached the group in the swale. After a quick inspection of theoncomers, the cowboys about the fire went on with what they were doing.

  Two of them held down on the ground a struggling calf, while thecow-mother of the little beast, lowing and shaking her head, endeavoredto break past two other cowboys who were heading her away from thescene of the branding operations.

  For that is what was going on. Some of the Diamond X cowboys had comeupon an unbranded calf with its mother as they rode across theprairies. As they were on their employer's land they knew the unmarkedanimal must belong to him, and it ought to be at once permanentlyidentified as Mr. Merkel's property.

  It was the work of but a moment for one of the cowboys to lasso thelittle bawling creature, and drag it to where he wanted it.

  While some of the cowboys held the calf, not taking the time to "hogtie" the creature, others headed off the frantic cow-mother. Then afire was made of greasewood twigs, and the branding iron, which one ofthe cowboys carried at his saddle, was put in the flames to heat. Whenhot enough it was pressed on the flank of the calf, burning into thehair and slightly into the hide, the diamond with the X in thecentre--the mark of Bud's father's cattle.

  As the men released the calf, it staggered to its feet, uttered afeeble bawl or two, and ran to its mother, who at once began to lickwith her tongue the branded place.

  "Where you headin', Bud?" asked Yellin' Kid Watson, one of the cowboyswho had been engaged in the impromptu branding operations.

  "Headin' home," answered the rancher's son.

  "Then you haven't heard the news?" asked Snake Purdee.

  "What news?" asked Bud, while Nort and Dick listened eagerly.

  "Bad business," went on Yellin' Kid. "A lot of your dad's choice stockwas run off from the far range a while ago. Tar Blake just rode
in andgive notice. Bad business!"

  "I should say so!" agreed Bud. "Who did it; Greasers or some of thatoutfit?" and he motioned back to the camp he and his cousins had justleft.

 

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