"Let him be, Bud, he's having all he can do to think about these shots, as it is. The things for us to do now is to pick them out of him."
"We'll let him count 'em ez they come out. That'll help take his mind off his troubles, but he'll hev ter hev a great head fer figgers."
They went to work on him with their penknives, as most of the shot were just beneath the skin. But it was painful enough, at that, and every time a shot came out Farley groaned deeper. While they were engaged in this, to them, pleasing occupation, Billy Sudden arrived.
"Hello, kid," he said to Farley. "So you got it at last. I could have told you to keep away from Ted Strong and his bunch. They're bad medicine for a herd o' mavericks like you to graze with. You tackled the wrong outfit. They're too many fer you, and if you'll all take a fool's advice you'll keep away, or else some of you will be looking through a griddle in a door up at the penitentiary."
Farley made no reply, only hid his face and groaned at every extracted shot.
"Say, kid, what about this gang you belong to?"
The boy shook his head.
"D'ye mean to say you're not going to tell me about it?"
The boy nodded.
"What's the reason you won't?"
"The oath."
"Slush with the oath. You had no business to take it. What'll the home folks think when I tell them about this. Shot by a Chinaman in the chicken house at dawn!"
Billy paused to let the ignominy of it sink in. It did sound pretty bad and mean and cheap. There were no heroics in this, such as Farley had at first considered his rôle.
He hid his face on his arm, and his body shook. Billy had probed deep into his pride.
"Well, come on," said Billy. "This is no time for a conspirator to do the baby act. I suppose you thought it was to be a spotlight scene where you stood in the center doing the heavy stunt, and all the rest sat on the bleachers and applauded. By gee! Peppered by a Chinaman, and with snipe shot, at that."
"Oh, quit it!" said Farley. "I know I was a chump for sticking with those fellows, but I needed the money."
"What money?"
"My share of the—"
"What?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Yes, there is something. What robbery was it you shared in?"
"I didn't steal anything."
"I suppose not. You did the dirty work of being lookout, or something like that, and they threw you the bone while they kept the meat and fat, eh?"
"What shall I do with him?" asked Ted.
"Keep him locked up as a hostage. That may bring those young fools to their senses," said Billy. "I'm disgusted with him for not making a clean breast of the whole foolish business, and if it wasn't for his sister, I'd toss him up in the air and forget him."
The rest of the day was spent in picking shot out of Farley, and by evening he was relieved of the last one.
"We'll put him in that empty room at the corner of the house, and take turns watching him through the night," said Ted.
Until bedtime Farley sat in the living room with the rest of them, and they were unusually guarded in their conversation.
When it came time to retire Farley was conducted to the room which was to be his prison, and it fell to Carl to take the first watch, and to call Ben at one o'clock.
In the room there was a lounge and a pair of blankets for Farley, a table and a lamp, and a chair for the watch.
"Whatever you do, don't go to sleep, Carl," said Ted. "The reason I'm putting you on the first watch is because you're such a sleepyhead."
"Don'd vorry aboud me," said Carl, with a yawn. "I pet you I vas der sleepinglessness feller in der whole bunch. If he gets avay on my vatch it vill not be pecause I don'd sleep."
"I guess you mean all right, but I swear I can't understand you. Only keep awake."
"Oh, yah; I avake keeping all der time."
Carl sat in the chair watching his prisoner, and soon saw Farley's chest heaving regularly and heard his deep breathing as he slept. Then things seemed to waver and fade away.
Carl started up at hearing some one beating on the door, and sat rubbing his eyes. It was broad daylight.
"All right, I'll get up pooty soon yet. Is preakfast retty?"
"Here, open the door. This is Ted."
"Vait a minute."
Carl staggered sleepily to the door and unlocked it.
"Where is your prisoner?" asked Ted, stalking into the room, and looking at the open window.
"My vat? Ach, Gott in himmel, vat haf I dided? I am schoost coming avake. He iss gone! I haf slept on vatch. I am foreffer disgraced. Kill me, Ted! I haf no appetite to live any more alretty," cried Carl.
Ted had been angry at discovering the escape of Farley, for he had conceived a plan to use him against Creviss. He had risen early, and when he found that all the boys were in bed except Carl, he immediately suspected the truth.
But Carl's despairing manner turned him from anger.
"Never mind, Carl," he said. "It was my fault for putting you on watch. You were not cut out for a watchman. Or, perhaps, you were, according to the funny papers, but not of prisoners."
During breakfast Carl was compelled to endure the jokes of the boys at his failure to guard the prisoner, which he did with a lugubrious countenance; then, at a signal from Ted, the subject was dropped.
About ten o'clock Billy Sudden rode up to the ranch house.
There was something in his manner that betokened news of importance, and he strode unbidden into the living room, where Ted was sitting at his desk.
"Where's the kid?" he asked abruptly.
"Who, Farley?" asked Ted, looking up from his work.
"Yes."
"Skipped."
"What?"
"I said skipped."
"Great Scott! I'd give a hundred dollars if he hadn't."
"Why?"
"What time did he get away?"
"Don't know, exactly. Carl was watching him, but he fell asleep almost as soon as they were in the room together, and didn't wake up until six o'clock this morning, and Farley was gone. No one knows how he got away or at what time. It might have been any time. He probably woke up in the night and saw that Carl was dead to the world, and opened the window, dropped to the ground, and hit the trail. That's all I know about it. But what makes you so anxious about it?"
"Then you haven't heard the news?"
"Guess not. What is it?"
"The First National Bank was robbed last night."
"Great guns! Creviss' bank! That's the United States depository!"
"The same."
"What are the details?"
"I rode through town this morning on my way over here to see if being confined for the night wouldn't make the kid talk, when I saw a bunch of men standing in front of the bank. I butted in and asked what the excitement was, and they told me that the bank had been robbed."
"But how?"
"That's what nobody knows. When the cashier, Mr. Henson, got to the bank this morning everything apparently was all right. The doors and windows were fastened, and there was no sign anywhere that the bank had been forcibly entered. Of course, he didn't look at these things first. He went to the vault and opened it at the proper time and examined its contents casually. Everything seemed to be as usual. But when, a few minutes later, he went to get out the currency, it was all gone. He hadn't counted up when I left there, so no one knows the exact amount, but it was large."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BATTLE WITH THE BULL.
The excitement incident to the mysterious robbery of the Creviss bank was intense.
How had it been done? This was the question that every one was asking his neighbor. But none could answer it.
The evening before the robbery had taken place the bank had been closed by the cashier, and by Mr. Creviss himself.
The money, books, and papers, with which the business of the day had been conducted, had been carried into the vault by the cashier, and Mr. Creviss, who was an u
nusually cautious man, looked into the vault after the cashier came out, to see that everything was in. Then he closed the vault doors, and turned the handle of the combination, setting the time lock, thus securing the doors from being opened until nine o'clock the next morning.
The only way in which it could be opened, and an almost impossible way, at that, was by blowing it open.
And yet the vault had been robbed, and the vault lock had apparently not been tampered with.
It had the appearance of necromancy.
Ted rode into town with Billy Sudden, arriving about noon.
Billy rode on to the Dumb-bell Ranch, and Ted stopped at the bank. It seemed deserted. But as he entered the door he saw a big man, dressed in the flashy clothes affected by managers of cheap circuses and fake shows, standing at the end of the counter talking to Wiley Creviss.
"I can't do anything with that check," Ted heard Creviss say. "You'll have to come in when the cashier is here. The safe is locked, and I can't get into it, anyway, and all the currency is in it. I'm only staying here until the cashier gets back from dinner."
"When will that be?" asked the stranger.
"In about half an hour."
The stranger picked up his valise, which seemed to be heavy, and walked out grumbling about banks that closed up for dinner.
Ted said nothing to Wiley, but he took a good look about the bank, disregarding the other lad's scowls.
He observed that the vault door stood open, but that there was no money in sight, and the place had an air of desertion, as if business was slack.
When Strong had seen all that he wanted of the apparent entrances to the bank that a criminal might use to force his way in, he left with two distinct impressions on his mind. One was that the vault door had been open when he came in, and that Wiley Creviss had abruptly closed it when he saw Ted staring at it. The other was the remarkable appearance of the showman, for without doubt he was that.
As before, the mysterious robbery of the bank proved to be too hard a nut for the citizens to crack, and when they had thrashed out all the theories advanced and knocked them to pieces again, they forgot it.
Not so Ted Strong. This succession of robberies, none of them leaving behind the slightest clew to the perpetrators, interested him. Its very difficulty of solution, which had made the lesser brains abandon it, compelled his attention and interest.
Had it been his business to tackle the problem, he gladly would have done so. But the only Federal end to it was the robbery of the post office, which the inspectors of that department were working on, unless, perhaps, it might be found that the funds of the government for general purposes at Fort Rincon had been stolen. Then the case would come under the operations of the United States marshal's office.
But other and more pressing things of a personal nature gradually took his attention from crime, and he devoted himself to the coming round-up.
All the spare room in the Moon Valley Ranch house was occupied by visiting cattle buyers, who had come to the round-up. The rooms of the boys had been given up to guests, while they camped on the prairie behind the house.
At last the great day came.
Early in the morning the boys were out, and with them was Stella.
Cow Suggs had loaned Ted his outfit for the day, and Ted was glad to have the boys, for there was no cleverer cowman in the country at a round-up, saving Ted himself, who was king of them all, and so conceded, than the dark, lithe cow-puncher, Billy Sudden, who had been through college and had traveled in Europe before he deserted the East for the toil, freedom, and excitement of the range.
It was now time to round up all the stock on the Moon Valley Range, cut out the marketable stuff, and brand the yearlings.
This is not only a troublesome task, but it is dangerous, and not a moment of the time until the task is accomplished but has its exciting adventures and escapes from death.
The boys did not know exactly how many head of cattle they owned. They had been selling and replenishing their stock from time to time, and the increase of calves had been very large, for Moon Valley, situated in the lee of Dent du Chien, or Dog Tooth Mountain, with its rich grass, the richest in the Black Hills, and its abundance of fresh, clear spring water, was an ideal breeding place.
There were on the ranch at that time several dangerous bulls, and this added to the hard work of the day, because the monarchs of the range did not like to be disturbed and have their following broken up and scattered.
In the big pasture, which lay at the foot of Deni du Chien Mountain, was the largest herd in the valley.
The king of this herd was known as "Gladiator." He was always looking for a fight, and never refused a challenge, whether from another bull or from what he considered his natural enemy, man.
A man on foot in that pasture would have stood no more chance for his life than if he tried to stand in front of the engine that hauls the Empire State Express going at top speed. Gladiator would kill him just as quickly and as surely.
So it was that strangers were kept out of the big pasture, whether they were mounted or not, unless they were escorted by some member of the broncho boys, or one of the older cowboys about the place. Stella, with her red bolero, nearly caused a tragedy one day by coming within the vision of Gladiator, who took the bolero for a challenge.
Stella turned in time and fled, and had it not been for the fleetness of her pony and her own superb riding, there had been no more to relate of the adventures of the girl pard of the Moon Valley boys.
The morning of the round-up Ted undertook personally to turn the herd to the rendezvous.
Stella insisted upon accompanying him, and at last he was persuaded to give his consent, but only on the condition that she wear subdued colors, which she did, with skirt and jacket of a light-dun color.
The herd was grazing in the noble range that stretched for miles along and across the valley in the shadow of the splendid mountain.
It was widely scattered, and as the band of horsemen rode out toward it the cattle lifted their heads for a moment and took a quiet survey, then returned to their feeding.
Not so Gladiator.
The great white-and-black bull raised his head proudly, and his fierce, steady eyes regarded them without fear.
Indeed, Gladiator knew no fear, whether of man or beast, wolf pack or mountain lion, serpent or bird of prey.
He was monarch of that herd, and no one said him nay except Ted Strong, who ruled the ranch and all that was on it, by the general consent of his comrades and his own fitness for his rulership.
Ted and Gladiator had had numerous differences, and it was the bull that had backed down every time.
Yet he did not fear Ted. Rather he hated him because he could not conquer this quick, brave, and resourceful fellow.
"That bull will be the death of you some of these days," said Stella to Ted once when Gladiator, resenting Ted's intrusion into the herd for the purpose of cutting out some calves, charged him. But Ted in the end threw the bull with his rope, humiliating him before all the herd. From that time forth Gladiator's eyes always became red with anger when he saw Ted, but he did not misbehave, because he respected Ted's lariat and quirt, and the strong arm that wielded them.
When they got to the herd the boys circled it from behind, riding in slowly.
Ted and Stella were on the left point, with Bud and Kit opposite.
Bill Sudden was in the rear to drive, while the other Moon Valley cowboys and Billy Sudden's boys came in from the sides.
At the first interruption of their grazing the cattle moved along sluggishly, but Gladiator did not move.
The big bull stood his ground, with eyes gazing steadily at Ted and Stella, who were approaching him slowly and persistently.
Suddenly Gladiator threw up his head and gave a low, menacing bellow.
"The old chap is waking up," said Ted.
"Be careful, Ted," said Stella. "He's not in very good humor."
"I see he isn't. But if
we go at him easily he'll be all right."
"Don't take any chances with him alone, Ted."
"Still, I'm not going to let him boss this job. He's got to lead this herd out, and that's all there is to it, for it's a cinch that they won't go without him."
Stella knew that it was useless to say anything more, as when Ted made up his mind to do a thing, it would be done if everything broke.
Billy Sudden had got the herd moving up from the rear, but the forward end of the herd was stagnant.
Gladiator refused to budge, and stood with his stubborn forefeet planted on the sod, his head raised insolently.
But it could be seen that his anger was working within him, and would soon break forth.
Bud was working the cattle nearest him gently on the move, but when they saw that their leader was standing still they ceased their progress and began to crowd and mill, and the steers were getting reckless and beginning to throw their tails in the air and utter low, growling bellows.
It was a critical moment. Who was to be the master must be decided quickly. If the bull conquered then the cattle would get to milling generally, and the mischief would be to pay.
It would not take long for them to stampede, if the bull started the panic, or made a charge. Ted saw the danger, and knew that the condition must be treated diplomatically, which was the easier way, or with force, of which the outcome was most uncertain.
It depended, in a measure, on the temper of the bull himself.
The cattle were crowding up from the rear, and those nearest the bull were beginning to feel the pressure and were pushing toward Gladiator, who was fifteen feet in advance of the herd.
When he noticed that the herd was moving, his anger increased, and he lowered his head and began to paw the ground.
Ted held up his hand to Billy Sudden as a signal to cease pushing the animals, but they had got the impetus and would not stop.
In a moment they had begun to crowd upon the bull, who, with legs planted stubbornly, would not be crowded, and began to gore aside those who were being pushed upon him.
Ted saw instantly that this was going to result in disaster if not stopped, as the frightened steers, feeling Gladiator's sharp horns, turned back on the herd, and were pushing their way frantically into the center of it, while others, coming up, were forced upon the bull's horns.
Ted Strongs Motor Car Page 6