As she watched the horses, something else caught Stevie’s eye. She stood up on her stirrups to be sure she was seeing correctly. Unfortunately, she was. Coming along the valley by the road parallel to the creek, was a pickup—just the same size as the bare patch next to the cabin. Stevie didn’t stop to figure the odds. She just knew: It was the horse thieves. They were still far away—too far to see what was going on, but they were moving fast. Stevie figured she had less than three minutes to get the strays up over the crest of the hill before the day turned nasty.
“Come on, Gary!” she said. “Help me! We’ve got to get the strays!”
Stevie didn’t even bother to look over her shoulder to see if Gary was following her. She knew what she had to do, and she was riding the best cutting and herding horse in the world.
Stevie never understood the instincts that drove Stewball, but she knew she could rely on him absolutely. She gave him a kick and aimed him toward the fleeing strays. It was all the explanation the horse needed.
For each elegant stride the strays took, Stewball took two. Stevie held on for dear life, wondering where this horse got his energy. Snow flew up around her in clouds, exploding upward each time Stewball took stride.
Without any signal from Stevie, Stewball figured that what he had to do was get to the right of the horses and force them off to the left. That would take them uphill and to safety, even if it meant they’d still have a long ride to join up with the others.
The horse in the lead of the strays was a stallion. That meant that the mares who were trailing him would go wherever he went. Good news, bad news, Stevie thought. Good news if the stallion could be convinced to go where Stewball was telling him. Bad news if he had an independent streak.
Stewball drew up to the stallion and pressed forward and to the left, trying to push him up the hill. The stallion did have a streak of independence.
In the distance, Stevie could see the pickup approaching. Soon they’d know something was up. Stevie had to do something.
She grabbed the lariat off the horn of her saddle, loosened the noose, and began swinging it in the air. Soon it was making big, lazy circles.
Stevie had learned to lasso cattle on her first trip to the Bar None. She could do it—as long as her horse wasn’t moving and the steer was standing still. Trying to rope a galloping stallion from the saddle of a galloping gelding was another thing altogether.
She took aim, crossed her fingers, closed her eyes, and let the rope fly. It arced through the cold winter air. Almost as if in slow motion, the noose shimmered and wobbled across the expanse. Stevie opened her eyes, held her breath and watched. The lopsided noose tumbled awkwardly downward and landed in the snow. She’d missed the stallion by more than ten feet!
But the movement of the snaking, flying rope had startled the stallion, and he instinctively shied from it. He ran straight up the hill and over the crest into the meadow beyond. The mares followed him obediently.
It wasn’t exactly what Stevie had had in mind, but it worked. Stevie and Stewball chased them up the hill.
As soon as they were over the top the herd and their rescuers were out of immediate danger. The returning horse thieves might know where they’d gone, but without their own horses they were powerless to stop them. To be on the safe side, The Saddle Club kept the stolen horses moving toward home at a fast clip for another fifteen minutes. By then Stevie and her group of six runaways had rejoined the rest of the herd. The horses were ready to stop galloping and cantering. They welcomed a comfortable walk.
“Nice work!” Kate said to the group.
“We’re wonderful!” Stevie announced unashamedly. She leaned down and gave Stewball a pat on the neck.
“Most of us, anyway,” said Christine. “And speaking of him, where’s Gary? I thought he was with you, Stevie.”
“I thought he was, too,” she said. She drew Stewball to a halt and then turned to look over her shoulder.
Someone was visible on the horizon behind her. She shaded her eyes. It was Gary. He was waving to them.
They all stopped and waited for him to catch up. He arrived breathless a few minutes later.
“I thought you’d want to know,” he said. “That truck. It wasn’t the guys.”
“Thanks for telling us,” Kate said.
“They just kept on driving right past the cabin. They didn’t even slow down,” Gary said.
“Then let’s get these horses out of here and hope that darkness—or another load of snow—will hide their trail before the men get back,” Carole said. She nudged Berry into action. The other riders followed and soon the herd of horses was moving again—on its way to home and safety.
Now that they were on their way back to the ranch, the ride became pleasant. The hard parts were all done. They’d found the herd, they’d rescued it, and they had it all going in the same direction. They could relax a bit.
“What was with Gary back there?” Christine asked Stevie in a low voice. “I thought he was with you.”
“I think I’m going to give up trying to figure out Gary Finnegan,” Stevie said.
“A good thing, too,” said Carole. “When you really could have used a hand, he decided he was more useful sitting in the saddle at the top of the hill watching cars!”
“Actually, Carole, I think he was more useful watching cars than he would have been rounding up strays,” Stevie said wryly.
The truth of that statement overwhelmed Carole. She couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.
To cover Carole’s guffaws, Stevie began singing, “ ‘I’m a-headin’ for the last roundup!’ ”
As she had suspected, that made Gary begin to sing too. Stevie let him take over. Singing was the one thing he really did well.
BY THE TIME they neared the Bar None, the young riders had figured out what they were going to do—eat. It was almost four-thirty, the sun was setting, and they hadn’t had a bite all day. They had also decided they would put the stolen herd into the large paddock by the Bar None and keep the horses there overnight. They could be sorted out the next day when there was enough light to identify the brands. For now the herd was safe, and that was all anybody needed to know.
The horses followed their rescuers into the paddock and eagerly accepted the grain and hay the girls brought out for them. By the time the girls were done tending the horses, many of them were beginning to doze on their feet. The girls were ready for some of the same.
“Kate Devine! What’s going on here?” Phyllis asked, running out from the kitchen. “Where have you been? What are you doing with all these horses? These aren’t all ours! I’m sure I saw the Westerlys’ brand on one. And look, that’s the brand from the Double L! Why have we got their horses in our paddock?”
“It’s a long story, Mom,” Kate said. “And I think if you’ll find something to feed us, we’ll be able to tell you everything.”
“Between bites,” Stevie said. She didn’t want any misunderstanding about exactly what was going to come first. She also didn’t think anybody would be able to hear anything she had to say over her rumbling stomach.
The five girls and Gary followed Phyllis into the house, with Kate assuring her at every step that the horses belonged in their paddock for the night and would be safe there. Everybody—even the Westerlys and the Double L people—would be glad about it, Kate promised her mother.
Lisa was the last one through the kitchen door. She turned to pull it shut behind her and took one final look out at the herd they’d rescued. The last thing she saw was the two dun mares and the chestnut gelding. In spite of the fact that they had to be tired from their long trip, one of the mares was playfully nuzzling the gelding. Lisa could have sworn that the mare was tagging the gelding. “You’re it,” she whispered. She drew the door shut.
A big pot of chili was on the stove, kept warm for them since lunch. Phyllis filled six bowls and poured milk. The girls and Gary picked up their spoons and took their first bites since dinner the night be
fore. Food had never tasted so good.
“Okay, that’s four mouthfuls each. Now talk,” Phyllis said.
They did. Kate did most of the talking, and she didn’t say anywhere near as much about the wild-goose chase that Gary had led them on as Stevie would have said. In fact, Kate didn’t say anything about it at all. She just said they’d finally figured out that the horses would most likely be near the old railroad spur and that they had actually found them there.
“We rescued them!” Gary announced proudly.
“Yes, we did,” Christine said.
Carole explained how they’d taken the herd to the top of the hill and over to the high meadow and safety. Stevie described the runaway six and her total failure as a roper.
Gary looked puzzled. “I didn’t realize you didn’t know how to rope a horse,” he said. “I could have done that for you.”
“I’m sure,” Stevie said.
Lisa had never thought of Stevie as a master of understatement, but right then she thought Stevie deserved an award. Nobody contradicted her.
“But what about the people you think stole the horses?” Phyllis asked.
“They weren’t there,” Gary explained. “The girls thought they were coming back right away, but they weren’t. It wasn’t their car.”
“Gary? Are you all right?” The front door of the lodge slammed shut behind Mr. and Mrs. Finnegan. They ran over to Gary.
“What happened?”
The girls were touched by the Finnegans’ genuine concern for Gary—until Mrs. Finnegan’s next question.
“You didn’t hurt your hands, did you?”
“No, Mom, they’re fine,” Gary said. “Maybe a little tired from gripping the reins, but no problem. Really.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Finnegan,” Stevie said. “I saw to it that nothing happened to Gary.”
“Yeah, right, like she wouldn’t let us abandon him on a mountain slope the way we wanted,” Christine whispered to Lisa. Lisa stifled her giggles.
There was a loud thumping on the front porch of the lodge, and the door opened. Frank came in, followed by six other men. Phyllis and Kate greeted them by name. One was the sheriff and another was Mr. Westerly. The rest were other local ranchers.
“I suppose you haven’t had anything to eat all day, either, and you’ll be glad to tell me what’s going on as soon as you have a bowl of chili?”
“How’d you know?” Frank asked.
“There’s a lot of it going on around here,” said Phyllis.
The men hung up their coats and joined the six young riders at the Bar None’s ample dining table.
“It’s horse thieves all right,” Frank said. “We found them in the cabin by the railroad spur. The sheriff’s been trying to get the truth out of those men all day.”
“You’ve got them?” Stevie asked, unable to contain herself.
“Well, we’ve got them,” the sheriff said. “But I’m not sure we can keep them. At the moment they’re guests of the town on the grounds of vagrancy. It’s the darnedest thing. We know they’ve stolen horses, but we can’t find the horses! All we could see was a mass of hoofprints, this way and that, in the corral and around the house, but it was getting dark so we couldn’t follow them. It didn’t make sense, anyway, since it was clear they intended to skedaddle out of here on the train tracks, and the hoofprints were leading away from there. Best we can figure is that they were looking for a place to hide them overnight.”
“Uh, Dad,” Kate said.
“We’ll get them,” Frank said. “Tomorrow morning, first thing, we’re going back to that railroad spur, and we’ll follow the trail on horseback.”
“Dad—” Kate began again.
“We can put these folks up for the night, can’t we, Phyllis?” Frank asked, not waiting for an answer. “That way we can head out early.”
“Dad,” said Kate.
“We’ve just got to find the herd. Without the herd, we don’t have anything,” said Mr. Westerly.
“No matter how far we have to ride,” Frank agreed.
“True. But that herd could be days from here by the time we locate them,” said the sheriff.
“Dad!” Kate said.
Mr. Devine turned to his daughter. “Honey, we men have some planning to do here. Can it wait?” he asked gently.
“I just thought you’d like to know that the herd is in our paddock,” she said. Then she grinned.
“Our what?”
“That’s what Kate’s been trying to tell you,” Phyllis said. “The girls brought the herd back here.”
“Gary and the girls, you mean,” said Mrs. Finnegan. She smiled at Gary, and he gave her a thumbs-up sign.
The sheriff gulped. “You mean to tell me that you kids went and stole a herd of horses?”
“From horse thieves,” Kate said. “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“I think I’d better take a look for myself,” said the sheriff.
After the chili pot had been scraped clean, The Saddle Club took the sheriff and his posse out to the corral to see the herd of tired but safe horses.
“I think you’d better start from the beginning,” said Frank as they returned to the main lodge.
“It all began when I picked up the phone, which I shouldn’t have …,” Lisa began.
The men didn’t interrupt until the rescuers finished describing how they’d given the hungry herd a welcome-home feed.
“Your guests seem mighty partial to the welfare of horses,” the sheriff said.
“We are,” Stevie responded, beaming with pride.
“And they may very well have saved these horses from an ugly fate. I’m sure those rustlers had the wherewithal to move the horses out before we got there. They must have been a touch surprised when they returned to the cabin and found the horses gone.”
“I bet they were,” Carole said gleefully.
“Well, you may have saved the horses, but there’s been some damage done to the evidence,” said the sheriff. “See, without the horses being there—that’s called possession—it’s going to be very hard to prove they were actually stolen in the first place by the men we have in custody.”
“I never thought of that,” said Stevie.
“But I don’t understand,” Christine said. “We took the horses from the same place you found the men.”
“I know it’s logical. We know they did it. We’re just shy of a way to prove that those two men were ever anywhere near any of those particular horses,” the sheriff said.
Kate spoke up. “We saw them on our land the other day. And actually, we stole the horses that we had seen them riding. They’re in our corral, too.”
“But no horses had been stolen the other day. The men were trespassing. But that’s not the same thing as horse thieving. We need some evidence that will put them with the stolen horses before they were stolen.”
Lisa gasped. She stood up and stuck her hand into her jeans pocket.
“Would this do?” she said, offering the sheriff three cigarette butts. “I found them in the feed tent by the Bar None herd. Aren’t there some kind of scientific tests to show who smoked them?”
The sheriff slapped his knee. “Are you kidding? Get me a plastic bag! Boys, I think we’ve found a way to jail those horse thieves!”
Lisa grinned. That made the day perfect—well, almost perfect.
“Gary, I’m so proud of you!” said Mr. Finnegan. “You know, your mother and I were upset about your missing practice time this afternoon, but it looks as if you were up to something more important—for today anyway.”
“That’s right, Gary,” said Mrs. Finnegan. “I guess the girls owe you a note of thanks for coming up with such a great idea. Saving horses and catching thieves—say, that might make a nice ballad, don’t you think, Floyd?”
“Could be,” said Mr. Finnegan.
“Son, shall we go work on it?”
“Sure thing, Dad,” Gary said. He stood up to leave with his par
ents.
Frank and the sheriff and the other men went into the office to use the telephone, which was working again. The girls were alone. After a moment of quiet, Carole turned to Lisa.
“I guess I need to thank you,” she said.
“I guess I need to apologize,” said Lisa.
Nobody asked what either of them meant. They all just sighed with relief.
MORNING CAME VERY early the next day. The girls were still tired from their long ride the day before, to say nothing of the long celebration that had followed in the evening. Each of them was sure she could have slept another six hours, but it was almost dawn and this was their last day at the Bar None. They weren’t going to miss out on their last dawn bareback ride.
“Everybody ready?” Stevie asked.
“Ready,” her friends said. They’d dressed in the darkness and had bundled up warmly.
Stevie opened the door. More accurately, Stevie tried to open the door. It was frozen shut. It took three of them to get it open, and when they finally succeeded they knew they shouldn’t have bothered. There was a four-foot wall of snow on the other side.
“We’re snowed in!” said Kate.
“Let’s go back to bed,” said Stevie. “We can ride later.”
“Like really snowed in,” said Christine.
“I’m ready for another couple of hours of z’s,” said Carole. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us, because we’re flying out of here after lunch, and then it’s a couple of hours in the air.”
“And tonight is the Starlight Ride,” Lisa said. “Maybe it’s just as well that we’ll get more rest now.”
The five sleepy girls each took off a couple of layers of clothes and happily climbed back into bed. Lisa’s last thought as she drifted back to sleep in the predawn darkness was that she’d had a wonderful and exciting time at the Bar None—if she didn’t count sticking her nose into Carole’s business with Gary—but she was happy to be going home. Tomorrow was Christmas. Pot roast for dinner tonight.
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