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 11

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER X

  DEL PINZO'S HAND

  Instantly all were astir in the shack that had been erected as a forton the bank of Spur Creek, and a rush was made for saddles and theusual trappings of a cowboy. Nor were guns forgotten, for if thesewould not be needed in fighting off the rustlers, they would be ofservice in driving back a herd of frightened animals determined to putas much distance as possible between themselves and the source of theiralarm.

  Billee was overwhelmed with questions.

  "Who were they?"

  "What did they do?"

  "Who was on the wire?"

  To all of these the veteran raised a hand for silence.

  "I'll tell you all I know," he said.

  "Maybe you'd better tell us on the run," suggested Yellin' Kid. "Ifwe're goin' t' help we'd better be moseying along, and _pronto_ atthat."

  "Good idea," chuckled Old Billee. "Well," he resumed as they hurriedtoward the corral where their horses were kept, "it was the bosshimself speaking on the wire. He didn't say much except to let it outthat we'd better get back as soon as we could. He didn't say who itwas that caused the ruction, so you know about as much of it as I do.Then he hung up. But I could hear there was some excitement in yourplace, lads," he went on to the boy ranchers, "for I could hear some ofthe boys standing around your dad murmurin' an' talkin', an' I heardsomebody ask if they got th' bullet out yet."

  "Then there must have been shooting!" cried Dick.

  "I reckon!" assented Old Billee.

  "Cracky!" cried Nort. "This is like old times!"

  "You said it!" voiced Bud.

  They were all in the saddles now, pulling their ponies sharply aroundto head for the trail that led back to Diamond X. Then Old Billeebethought him of something.

  "I say!" he sung out. "This won't do!"

  "What won't?" asked Nort.

  "All of us going off this way. We've got to leave some one here tohold the fort, boys. Them onery sheep herders may steal in on us whilewe're away, and take possession. An' you know," went on Billee with amomentous shake of his head, "possession is nine points of th' law.Somebody's got t' stay here," he decided. "You two fellers'd better doit," and he pointed to two cowboys who had recently come from Diamond Xto augment the guard at Spur Creek.

  "Aw, Billee!" objected one. "We don't want t' stay here!"

  "Have a heart, old man, an' let us come with you!" pleaded the other."They won't be nothin' doin' here! Them sheep herders have just seenthat we're on guard an' they've gone back home t' report. They won'tarrive an' be able t' git any sheep here 'fore we can mosey back if wehave to."

  "That's right!" joined in the first newcomer who had spoken. "Take usalong, Billee!"

  "Wa'al," said Billee slowly, as if in doubt, "I don't know how muchhelp they'll need back at Diamond X----"

  "Better not take any chances," said Snake Purdee.

  "I don't believe the sheep men will come back here again very soon,"was Yellin' Kid's usual loud-voiced opinion.

  "All right--come along then," conceded Billee, and the two cowboys whowere on the verge of being left behind rode with the others. It wasfast riding, too, for when word comes in that cattle stealers are inthe neighborhood of any ranch, it behooves those charged with thesafety of men and animals to be on the "jump." There is always more orless theft going on among the western cattle ranches but most of it ison such a small scale that drastic action is not often taken. Noranchman missed an occasional animal, which may be "lifted" because ofdire hunger, perhaps, on the part of some needy person.

  But when a "bunch" of valuable steers is driven off and when there areindications that an organized attempt is being made to steal more, thisshows the presence of cattle rustlers, and concerted action must betaken against them.

  It was this thought that was in the minds of all who thus rode"sweatin' leather" from Spur Creek toward Diamond X ranch, and from theglances that each member of the party cast, now and then, at theweapons swinging at their sides in the big holsters, it was evidentthat if shooting was to be a part of the game, they would be ready forit.

  "Things are livening up a bit, aren't they?" remarked Nort to Bud asthe boys rode side by side.

  "That's the way they ought to be," declared Dick. "I hate sittingaround and waiting for something to happen."

  "We didn't have to wait very long," chuckled Bud.

  "That's right," agreed Nort. "Wonder who it is that's been after yourdad's cattle now?" he ventured.

  "Maybe some of the old gang--maybe a new one," replied Bud. "You nevercan tell."

  "You mean Del Pinzo's old gang?" asked Dick.

  "He's the worst of the lot--always was and always will be," declaredBud.

  "But how does he keep out of jail?" Nort wanted to know.

  "That's one of the mysteries of it," went on Bud. "We've had him sentup more than once, but he gets out again by some sort of lawyer'strick. Either that or he breaks jail. The jails around here aren'tanything to boast of," he said with a laugh. "They're more a joke thananything else."

  "Do you reckon Del Pinzo is out now?" asked Nort.

  "Shouldn't wonder a bit," Bud assented. "We can tell whether he had ahand in this or not as soon as we hear dad tell what happened."

  Musing on the wily, mean and desperate tricks of this renegade Mexicanhalf-breed, if such was his nationality, the Boy Ranchers and theirfriends galloped along over the trail to Diamond X. On the way theylooked for signs of any cattle raids, but saw none. And these signsare very plain when they do occur.

  Generally they were in the shape of the half-eaten carcass of somesteer, for the raiders were generally desperate and hungry men, andbefore driving off a bunch of cattle they would kill one and cut offenough to roast over a hastily built fire.

  But there were no indications of that now, and, in fact, there werenone of Mr. Merkel's cattle pastured in the section our friends rodeover to get to the ranch headquarters.

  "Most of the herds are farther north," explained Billee, "an' I reckonthat's where th' rustlin' took place."

  This proved to be the case when they arrived at Diamond X and had achance to get some information. Mr. Merkel was out at one of thecorrals, talking to some of his men, when his son and nephews rode upwith the cowboys from Spur Creek.

  "What's the good word, Dad?" greeted Bud.

  "Sorry there isn't any good word--it's mostly bad," was the reply. "Ididn't like to pull you off from down there," he went on, "but as youdidn't seem to be very busy, and as we needed you up here, there didn'tseem to be anything else to do."

  "Oh, we were glad to come!" Nort hastened to say.

  "What's doin'?" asked Billee.

  "They're after us again--the rustlers," announced Mr. Merkel.

  "Same old gang?" asked Bud.

  "I reckon so," his father answered. "It looks like the hand of DelPinzo. You have to give that rascal credit for knowing just how andwhen to strike."

  "Then he's out of jail again?" asked Yellin' Kid.

  "That's what some of the boys seem to think," replied Mr. Merkel."Here's what happened."

  Briefly he told how during a time when many of his men were driving tothe nearest railroad station a bunch of choice steers for shipment toKansas City, a raid was made on an outlying herd that was beingfattened in a sheltered valley for future shipment. Not only were ahundred or more steers driven off, but one cowboy of Diamond X waskilled and another wounded.

  "And didn't our boys shoot back?" demanded Bud indignantly.

  "Oh, yes, they gave a good account of themselves," his father replied."They got three of the Greasers. That's how we made pretty sure it wasDel Pinzo again. They were just his type of rascals.

  "And so, because I didn't have men enough here to take after the crowdand get my cattle back, and, at the same time, run things on the ranch,I had to send for you. We'll have to let Spur Creek look after itselffor a while."

  "I reckon it can, Dad," said Bud. "The sheep herders won't come up
fora few days yet, I guess," and he told of the latest development inwhich Professor Wright was concerned.

  "Hum! So he was lost again, was he!" mused Mr. Merkel. "Seems to mehe's getting into a regular habit that way."

  "Does look so," chuckled Nort. "He's all right in his own way----"

  "But he doesn't weigh much!" laughed Bud, perpetrating an old joke atthe expense of the professor's thin frame, for he did not have muchflesh on his bones. More than one cowboy privately recommended to Budthat his father "pasture" the professor out on some good grass for aseason.

  "Well, now you know as much as I do," went on Mr. Merkel. "Our cattlehave been stolen, and the gang--Del Pinzo's, I'm pretty certain--isdriving them south. It's up to us to get after them."

  "And we will!" cried Bud. "As soon as we have a bite to eat and canpack up some grub----"

  He paused, for the telephone began ringing violently.

 

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