Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek; Or, Fighting the Sheep Herders

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Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek; Or, Fighting the Sheep Herders Page 7

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER VI

  THE ALARM

  Gathered in front of their "fort," as it laughingly had beenchristened, the boy ranchers and their cow puncher comrades watched theapproach of the lone horseman. He had come up through the valley--thepass that, like the neck of a bag tied about the middle with a string,connected two great lands--Mexico and the United States. But one landrepresented law and order to a degree, while the other was woefullylacking in these essentials to progress.

  For a time the stranger rode on at the fast pace Yellin' Kid had atfirst observed, and the atmosphere was so clear that his progress waseasily noticed without glasses, though Bud brought out a pair after amoment or two.

  Then, suddenly, the approaching horseman seemed to become aware, forthe first time, of the new structure at Spur Creek--the "fort" ofDiamond X.

  For he began to slacken his pace and when a quarter of a mile from theplace where Mr. Merkel had determined to make a stand, the horsemanpulled up his steed. Then he sat in the saddle and gazed long andearnestly at the shack and those who stood grouped in front of it.

  "Look out!" suddenly cried Bud, who was watching the horseman throughthe glasses. "He's going to draw!"

  This meant gun play, and the cowboys realized this, for they lost notime in "ducking" behind shelter. Bud, too, was taking no chances, butas he continued to look, from a vantage point, he said:

  "I made a mistake. He's only using glasses, same as I am. He didn'tpull a gun."

  "Who is he?" asked Nort.

  "Anybody we know?" Dick inquired.

  "Never saw him before, to my knowledge," remarked Bud. "He's a Mexicanor a Greaser, I take it." These terms were almost synonymous, exceptthat a Mexican was a little higher class than a Greaser half-breed, asthe term, was sometimes applied.

  "Let me take a look," suggested Yellin' Kid. "I know most of the classon the other side of the Rio Grande."

  Long and earnestly the cowboy gazed through the glasses at the lonefigure on the other side of Spur Creek--a gaze that was returned withinterest, so to speak.

  "He's Mex all right," said Yellin' Kid, handing the glasses to Billee,"but what his game is I don't know."

  "Looks like he just came to size us up," observed Billee, after anobservation, at the conclusion of which the stranger turned his horseand rode slowly off in the direction whence he had come.

  "That's right," assented Bud.

  "Do you think he's a sheep herder?" asked Nort.

  "Might be. Looks mean enough," said Yellin' Kid. The cattle men couldsay nothing too strong against this despised class of breeders andtheir innocent charges. Sheep herders were the scum of the earth tothe ranchmen, and to say that a man has "gone in for sheep" was toutter the last word against him, though he might be a decent member ofsociety for all that, and with as kind and human instincts as his moreaffluent neighbor raising cattle or horses.

  "Well, he knows we're here and on the job, at any rate," commented Budas the horseman slowly disappeared from sight in the distance.

  "Yes, and he'll very likely tell his band and we'll have them buzzingabout our ears before we know it," remarked Billee.

  "Then we'll fight!" cried Bud.

  "That's right!" chimed in Nort and Dick.

  "I wish my leg was in better shape," complained Yellin' Kid. "But Ican make a shift to ride if I have to."

  However, the next two days passed with no signs of any activities onthe part of the enemy. No sheep were sighted being driven up throughthe pass to the lands that were now, by government proclamation, opento whoever wanted to claim them, barring only those already havinglarge holdings of grazing range.

  "But this is only the calm before the storm," declared Bud, when he andhis chums talked it over. "We'll have a fight yet."

  And it was very likely that this would happen. While waiting, though,every opportunity was taken to better fortify that part of Spur Creekwhere Mr. Merkel's land began.

  The shack was made more comfortable, a telephone line was strung to itfrom the main ranch at Diamond X, and it was well stocked withprovisions.

  "And we'd better run in a pipe line so we can pump water directly fromthe creek into the shack," said Billee when certain improvements werebeing talked over.

  "Why that?" asked Nort.

  "Well, it's terrible thing in this hot weather to be cut off from yourwater supply," said the old frontiersman. "And it might happen thatthe Greasers and sheep men would get between our fort and the stream.Then we couldn't get out for water without losing our scalps, so tospeak. But if we have a pump in here, and the pipe line concealed sothe scoundrels can't locate it, we can be assured of a never-endingsupply of water."

  "It's good advice," decided Mr. Merkel when it was told to him, and,accordingly the pump was installed. During this time no more was seenof the solitary horseman, or, indeed, of any visitors or spies on theMexican side of Spur Creek. I say the Mexican side, though, as amatter of fact the Mexican border was some miles away, and I merelymention that country to identify the two sections, one on one side andone on the other of the stream, which was wholly within the UnitedStates.

  Meanwhile Sheriff Hank Fowler had endeavored to trace the thieves whohad robbed Mr. Merkel's safe, but there had been no results. ProfessorWright and his men were busily engaged in further search for fossilbones, and they were considered out of suspicion.

  Mr. Merkel had engaged the services of a lawyer to take up with theauthorities in Washington the matter of his stolen deeds in an effortto hold to his land. There were rumors that a number of the newgovernment claims had been taken up on the land that was once theproperty of the Indians, and among them some of the claim holders weresheep herders, it was said.

  "Well, they'd better keep away from Spur Creek--that's all I got tosay!" cried Yellin' Kid in his usual loud tones.

  So far, however, there had been no advent of the hated "woollies" asthey were sometimes called. But the boy ranchers and their friends didnot relax their vigilance. The sheep and their human owners mightdrift in across the creek at any hour, day or night, so a constantguard was maintained.

  It was one rainy, disagreeable night that the alarm came. It was theturn of Bud and Nort to stand watch, and they were keeping wary eyesturned toward the creek boundary through the mist of rain.

  "This is no fun," mused Nort as he wrapped his poncho closer about him.

  "I've seen more jolly times," agreed Bud with a laugh. "But it can'tlast forever. Wonder what time it is, anyhow?"

  Before Nort could answer there suddenly flashed in the southern sky aglare of fire.

  "Lightning!" exclaimed Nort.

  "A rocket!" cried Bud, all excited. "It means something, Nort! Maybethe sheep herders are coming!"

 

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