CHAPTER XIII
TRAPPED
For some minutes the boys listened to the details of the deputy'sscheme. It involved danger, there was no doubt of that, but it alsogave a chance for success. If luck held in their favor--and Kid saidafter the run of misfortune they had met with it was time for a changeof weather--they might hope for a rich prize--possibly Deltonhimself--though this last did not seem likely. The whole success ofthe plan depended on fooling the smugglers into thinking the ranch wasstill held by Delton.
"And there we are," finished Hawkins. "Any questions, boys? You-allknow what to do?"
"All set!" Yellin' Kid answered. "Now that's over with, guess I'llmosey down to town."
"Rather you stayed around, Kid, if you don't mind," said the deputy."Anything particular you wanted?"
"Well, just to see about that bronc you mentioned. And we got to gethold of a sheepman soon."
"I'll fix that up for you," Hawkins offered. "Dick, how about youriding back with me?"
"Glad to, Mr. Hawkins. Anybody want anything?"
"Better find out about food," suggested Nort. "And we could all standa clean shirt or two. Before you go, Dick, we all better takeinventory. Didn't bring much, you know. What do you say, boys? Speakup, and Dick can collect your stuff while he's in town."
"Where's that Mex?" the Kid asked. "Wait a minute while I head for thekitchen."
He bounded up the steps and flung open the door. To his surprise afigure stumbled away and ran back. But Yellin' Kid was faster, and ina moment he had collared the man. It was the Mexican cook.
"Hey, what the mischief you doin' here? Huh? Listening weren't you?"
The Mexican shook his head.
"What, then? If you weren't listenin' what were you doin'?"
The cook pointed toward the kitchen and then to his mouth. He spreadboth hands, palms upward.
"No more grub? Oh, I see. An' you was comin' to tell us?"
"What's the matter, Kid?" the deputy called. "Who you talking to?"
The Kid dragged the Mexican out into the yard.
"This bird," he said. "Cook. The one we found here. He was hidin'behind the door--wants me to believe he came out to tell us there wasno more eats. Why you run, hey? What's the idea of that?" Hetightened his grip on the Mexican's collar.
"Oh, let the poor Greaser alone, Kid," Bud objected. "He's all right.Just scared, that's all. The way you jerked open the door was enoughto scare anyone."
"Yea? Maybe. Anyway, I don't like this coot's looks. Back you go,Mex. Next time don't be snoopin' around like that. We'll get yourstuff for you." He released his grasp, and the Mexican slunk back intothe house.
"Funny gink," commented Billee Dobb in a drawling tone of voice, as hestared at the door through which the cook had disappeared. "QueerestMex I ever saw."
"The old detective still on the job," the Kid laughed and grinned."Well, Mr. Hawkins wants to get started. Guess you can order a wholestock of food, Dick. The store got a buckboard, deputy?"
"Believe it has."
"Then you can tell 'em what you want and they'll cart it over. Flour,bacon, bakin' powder, canned tomatoes, some yellow clings--don't forgetthem, Dick--and whatever else you can think of. Shirts can wait. Allright, boys. Stay here, Dick, I'll bring your bronc."
"The Kid wants to handle a pony again," Nort said, when the Kid hadleft. "He hated to lose that one of his."
"Mighty fond of it," declared Bud. "While you're gone, Dick, I thinkI'll take a look around and see what I can find."
"Wouldn't go too far," Hawkins cautioned. "Here's your bronc, Dick.Let's be on our way. See you fellers later. So long."
The two--Dick and the deputy--rode toward the town. Billee Dobbresumed the smoking of his pipe. The effect of the exciting plan theyhad just heard seemed to have departed with the deputy, for the mindsof those at the ranch turned again to the business of sheep farming.Billee spoke of "washes," and "dips," and of buying a few "hurdles."These terms were Greek to the boys, being experienced as they were onlyin cattle and not sheep raising, but Billee explained to them some ofthe peculiarities of the "woolies." He in a varied career had seenmost of the life of the range, and it was no surprise to the boys tofind he had once herded sheep.
As the morning wore on, the ranchers busied themselves in the doing ofmany tasks about the place. The Kid made a thorough inspection of theroofs and sides of the several shacks, to check up on the repairingneeded. Nort investigated the state of their living quarters--the bunkand cook house. Bud decided to ride a bit through the surroundingcountry, to observe the extent of their range, and to see to the fences.
Bud was not exactly "fence riding." This means following the fenceuntil a break is seen, repairing it, and going on to the next break.It is difficult and tiresome work, no task to occupy an idle morningwith. As Bud rode along, his mind was busy with the thoughts of allthat had happened in the short time the boys had been on the ShootingStar. The plan that the deputy had outlined for the capture of thesmugglers called for work, and it had only a fair chance of success.Nevertheless there seemed no other way to achieve results, and theadvantages of the control of the Shooting Star had to be realized earlyin the game.
"I'd like to run across Delton," thought Bud, feeling unconsciously forhis gun. His hand encountered no holster, and he suddenly realizedthat he had not bothered to arm himself before starting out.
"Just as well that I don't see Delton," he said to himself a trifleruefully. "Wouldn't do me a lot of good to meet him when I haven't aghost of a show of bringing him in. Yet I might take a chance on himif I saw him first." The pony he was riding stepped carefully so as toavoid prairie dog holes, which would throw him and his rider if hestepped in one suddenly.
"Might be a good idea to turn around," thought Bud aloud. "Don't wantto leave the work of the ranch to Nort and the Kid and Billee, thoughthere isn't an awful lot to do yet. When those sheep come in we'llhave our hands full. Oh, well, guess I'll ride a bit farther. See howmuch more work this fence needs."
He was riding slowly now, looking carefully about him. The countryappeared vaguely familiar. Certain bushes looked as though he had seenthem before--there was a small tree that he had certainly passed sometime before. The cowboy's sight is so trained by years on the prairiethat even the shape of a bush will be remembered subconsciously. Thereis so much land in the west that it is necessary to have some means toguide oneself about, else a rider could very easily get lost along atrail that should be familiar.
"Seems to me I've been here before," Bud said. "Let's see now--thatbush. Know I saw that sometime. That little hill there--why--I'll betthat is--" he spurred his mount to a faster gait and made for a smallknoll that rose in front of him. As he reached it he gave a yell.
"I know now! This is where we got in that fight with the hiddengunman! And over there ought to be--sure enough! The water hole! Ididn't think we were so near it. I must have come further than Ithought. Well--might as well take a look around. Right here is wherethe bird that did all the shooting must have lain. Come here, bronc!"
The boy dismounted and slipped his horse's bridle rein on his wrist.Then he threw himself down on the sand in the position their antagonistmight have taken when he fired at them.
"Here I am with a view of the water hole, and in a good place to shootfrom without being shot. Now I want to get away quick. What do I do?If I roll to the left, I expose myself to fire. If I roll to theright, I--" there was a little clump of mesquite by his right elbow.Bud pulled himself toward this. "That would afford protection, butonce I get in here how can I get out? Now--" The boy was rolling tothe center.
With a "Hold it, bronc!" he released the reins and his hand slid offthe clump. Suddenly a queer thing happened. Bud felt the ground belowhim give way, and the next moment he found himself in a hole just largeenough to admit his body, and about four feet deep. Above him thebushes had closed again, effectively screening him from
the view ofanyone above ground. He had accidentally solved the mystery of thegunman's strange disappearance.
For a few seconds Bud lay still, so sudden was the shock of the fall.He was not really stunned, however, and as soon as he recovered fromhis surprise he struggled to his feet and parted the brush above him.His horse was near by, moving slowly and cropping grass.
Then he saw how easily it would be to escape observation by fallinginto the small pit. The bush was certainly not large enough to conceala man, and for this reason no one would imagine it could serve toscreen a hole. It afforded a perfect hiding place. On either side wasflat prairie, and no one would suspect the presence of a hidden personin that country.
"So that's how it all happened!" Bud gave a low whistle. "No wonderwe missed the fellow. Say, this is one bird of a hiding place! All aman has to do is to roll in it, like I did. Anyone who can tell thishole is here without being in it is a better detective than I am.
"But what a crazy spot for a hiding place! Surely whoever dug itdidn't know he'd use it to fire on us and then escape. Must have beensome other reason for making it, and then it came in handy when whoevershot at us wanted to get away. He must have just lain quiet while welooked around, then, when we left, he just came out and walked away.Clever, all right. Now who'd think of a stunt like that?"
He looked more closely at the hole. It was well walled up, and hadevidently been dug some time ago. By parting the bushes and kneelingon a mound of earth at the bottom, a perfect sight of the surroundingterritory could be obtained. A gun could be poked through the bush andall the ground, except a very small part directly in front of the hill,would be covered. The person who dug it evidently had in mind theadvantages of firing from a hidden spot.
"Well, no use in staying in here any longer. Hope that fool bronc ofmine is still there. Don't want to lose her like the Kid did his.Won't the rest be surprised when I tell them about this! The Kid willwant to come right out and see it, and try it out. And Billee Dobbwill say 'I thought there was sumpin' like this!' Gosh, this thing ispretty deep." Bud put both hands on the sides and pulled himselftoward the top.
He threw one leg over the edge and was just about to spring out whenthat unconscious something which often warns us of the presence ofanother caused him to look up. What he saw almost caused him to fallback into the pit again.
Looking down at him was a man. In his hand he held a gun, the muzzlepointed at Bud's head. And as the boy saw the man's face he uttered acry.
"Delton!"
"The same! I see you decided to visit us. Well, buddy, you're in fora good long visit!" Delton's lips curled in a sardonic smile.
Boy Ranchers on Roaring River; Or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers Page 13