Boy Ranchers on Roaring River; Or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers

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Boy Ranchers on Roaring River; Or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers Page 9

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER IX

  DELTON RETURNS

  Cyclones are somewhat rare visitors on the prairies, but when they docome they make up for lost time. Bud, though he had lived the greaterpart of his life on the range, had never seen one. Now he stood withhis face to the east, drinking in the awesome sight.

  The eastern sky was covered with a blanket of black, ominous-lookingclouds, which quickly expanded and filled the whole heavens with theirdarkness. The breeze had died away and a deathlike stillness hung inthe air. Nature seemed to be hesitating, gathering up her forces for atremendous onslaught. Suddenly the black clouds in the east weretinted to a coppery color, which slowly turned to a dark green. Andstill Bud stood, oblivious to all else save the grandeur of the scenebefore him.

  Within the ranch house the men were scurrying about, shutting windows,glancing out now and then to see the progress of the approaching storm.

  Billee Dobb ran to where the Kid was struggling with one of the sashes.

  "How about the horses!" he yelled. Though there wasn't a soundwithout, by a curious phenomena the men talked in shouts, as thoughthey were trying to make themselves heard above a roaring.

  "Isn't Nort out there?" the Kid answered, also loudly. "Better makecertain, Billee! They'll be killed sure if the funnel takes themsideways!"

  "If the funnel hits us we won't care whether we ever saw a bronc ornot!" answered the veteran rancher. "We'll all be usin' wings then,not ponies. I'll take a look outside."

  "Take Dick with you! I'm finished here. We've only got about sixminutes before she hits. What a fine welcome this is! We no soonerget settled, after havin' a time doin' that, when we're all set to getblown away."

  The Kid was hurrying to the back of the house. He hesitated as hereached the kitchen, and looked in.

  "By the ghost of my aunt Lizzie's cat!" he cried as he saw through thedoorway. "If that crazy Mex ain't still fryin' bacon just as calm asif he was on Fifth Avenoo! Hey, you locoed Greaser, big wind comin'!"He gesticulated vigorously. "Whosh-whosh! Whee! Zip-zip-bang! Allover! Savvy?" He stopped his dramatic explanation of the oncomingcyclone to see if the Mexican understood. To his surprise the cooknodded several times and pointed toward the sky, turning his other armwindmill fashion. His lips gave forth a whistling sound. After thisdemonstration he motioned to his bacon, rubbed his stomach, shruggedhis shoulders, and went on with his cooking. No words could have saidplainer:

  "Sure! I know. Cyclone coming. What of it? Can't stop it now. Musteat. Might as well stay here and cook. Hey?"

  "Well, if you're not a cool customer!" the Kid cried, shoving his handsdeep into his pockets and tilting back on his heels. "Cook! Go aheadan' cook! You might just as well say hello to St. Peter with a fryin'pan in your hand as not. How does she look, Nort?" he asked as the boyrancher came in the door.

  "Not so good! Where's Bud?"

  "Bud? I thought he was with you. Maybe he's helping with thebroncoes. I'll take a squint here in back--" as the Kid stepped intothe yard he saw Bud--standing silent, widened eyes staring at the sky.The Kid started back in surprise.

  "Another guy that's gone locoed! First the cook, and then you! Hey,Nort, take a look at Bud. He's in a trance or something! Wake up,time to get up!"

  "Wonderful!" murmured Bud, without turning his head. "Isn't thatwonderful, Kid? See those colors! The most marvelous thing I eversaw. If I could only paint that! It would be a sensation!"

  "Sensation ain't all you'll be if you don't start movin' quick!" theKid declared. "Nort, take Bud with you and see if everything is all O.K. We've got about three minutes before the show starts. I thinkwe'll be able to tell if the funnel is goin' to hit us, and if it does,we've got to let things ride and head for the cellar."

  He stopped suddenly. The five leaned forward, tense, still.

  A low moaning filled the air. First like the drone of a hugebumble-bee, it gradually increased in intensity. The ranchers strainedtheir eyes toward the east, where the copper tint had merged to asickly green. A light breeze sprang up, hot, suffocating.

  "Here she comes, boys! Heads up! Get ready to make a dive for thecellar!"

  All looked around to make sure that the door of the cyclone cellar--adugout ten feet from the house--was within easy reach. They moved abit closer.

  Then it happened. From out of the greenish clouds tore a huge blackfunnel, tip down, capped with a wreath of lightning. With a roar itbeat its way across the prairie. As it rushed along it took with itall movable things. Lined with brushes, trees and dust, it seemed tohead straight for the ranch.

  The five waited no longer. With a leap they reached the cyclonecellar. The Kid was the last in, and just before he disappeared belowground he looked again at the roaring funnel of wind. It was almostupon them. In another moment, unless a near-miracle occurred, therewould be nothing left of the Shooting Star but a few timbers. Theranch lay directly in the path.

  Cyclones are freaks of nature. Even as the Kid watched, hoping thatthe terrible funnel might be diverted, nature gave a demonstration ofone of its most startling feats. The funnel lifted.

  Within three hundred yards of the ranch the tip raised above theground. As though a giant hand had pulled it up into the heavens, thewhirling, twisting cyclone merged into the blackness overhead. Atremendous pressure beat against the Kid's body. The air about wastingling with electricity. And there, directly above the Kid's head,sailed the terrible funnel, Its tip held harmlessly aloft from contactwith the ground, thundering and screaming in disappointed rage. Forseveral seconds the "twister" remained suspended. Then two hundredyards past the ranch it dipped to earth again, and went smashing alongon its mission of destruction and death.

  The ranch was saved.

  The Kid silently led the way out of the cellar. As the five stood oncemore above ground, they looked about at the surroundings. Off in thedistance the cyclone could be seen whirling along, gradually growingsmaller and smaller as it departed. As they watched the terrordisappear, a prayer of thankfulness was in the heart of each. It wasindeed a near-miracle that had saved the ranch from completeannihilation.

  Bud was the first to speak. His utterance was not exactly fraught withelegancy, but it expressed the feelings of all.

  "Whew!" he said with a long, drawn-out sigh.

  "And then some!" cried Dick. "What a show that was!"

  "Boy!" Billee Dobb breathed. "I'm sure glad we got missed! When I sawthat ole baby comin', I says 'raise yore sights, buster, raise yoresights! You got the wrong range!' An' blamed if she didn't raise,too!"

  A laugh started--the kind that relieves the soul after a tense anddangerous moment. Bud broke out in a loud guffaw. Then the Kid letloose--and for two minutes the air re-echoed with the shouts of glee ofthe five ranchers. Nothing really to laugh at; this laughter was notexactly in appreciation of Billee's remark. It was more in the natureof a celebration.

  "Whusch!" cried Bud weakly, when he could get his breath. "You crazycoot! So you're the one that lifted the cyclone, hey? Well, you suredid a good job of it!"

  The ranchers made their way over to where the horses had been tied.

  "O. K.!" Dick yelled as he came up. "They're all there. Not a hair on'em touched. Bet they thought it was the end of the world, though!"

  "Sure!" assented Nort.

  "Now, now, old hoss!" Dick said soothingly as he stroked the nose ofhis pony. "Scared, eh? Well, I don't blame you a bit. Look at thisone shake! Take it easy, boy--it's all over. Easy, there! Feelbetter now? That's the stuff--walk around a bit. Do you good.Steady! Steady!"

  The horses were quickly calmed. Assured by the presence of theirmasters that they were safe, they soon stopped quivering, and breathedeasier. A good horse trusts implicitly in his rider.

  "I'll take 'em over nearer the house," declared the Kid. "They'll feelbetter when they get movin'. By the way--wonder what happened to ourcook? Last time I saw him he was fryin' bacon. Ta
ke a run to thekitchen, Dick, and look, will you?"

  "Sure. Say, there's one shack down," Dick said as he pointed to thewreck of a small building.

  "Probably was a bunk house. We won't need one of those for a while,anyway. Well, will you look at that roof!" The Kid indicated anotherout-house. Its roof was turned directly around, so that the back waswhere the front should be. Not a board on it was broken.

  "Looks like a crazy-house down at Coney Island!" laughed Nort. "Dick,I thought you were going to see about eats? I'm starved."

  Dick walked toward the kitchen. Before he got there the aroma ofcooking bacon told the waiting cowboys that the Mexican was still onthe job.

  "Must have the whole place full of food by this time," Bud commented."Think I'll take another look around, Kid. Billee, you want to comealong? I just want to make sure we haven't missed anything."

  The two set off on a tour of inspection. It was growing dark now, andit would soon be too late to repair that night anything that wasdamaged.

  "Guess we haven't lost much," Bud said to the veteran rancher. "We'repretty lucky, eh, Billee?"

  "Sure are! We'll just look around the corner of this building,however, and then go back. I'm sort of hungry myself."

  "Me too. Hope that Mex has--" Bud broke off suddenly. He peered hardat the earth in the shadow of the shack. Then he walked swiftly over.

  On the ground lay the body of a man, face down. Bud grasped him gentlyby the arm and turned him over. On his forehead was a long cut, fromwhich blood was flowing. Bud looked sharply at his face, then startedback in surprise.

  "Well, I'll be jiggered!" he said slowly. "It's Delton!"

 

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