"I see him!" announced Phil, pointing with his hand to some rocks below. "He looks peaceful enough."
"So does a bomb—until it goes off," answered Dave. "The cowboys wouldn't be afraid of him unless he was a bad one. Maybe he is really crazy. I've heard of a crazy horse."
"Say, that puts me in mind of a story Shadow Hamilton told," came from the senator's son. "A boy in school was a regular blockhead, and one day the teacher asked him what made him so foolish. 'I dunno,' he answered, 'excepting that my mother makes me sleep under a crazy quilt.'"
"Say, that's like Shadow!" cried Phil, after a laugh all around. "Wish he was here—what stories he would tell!"
For some little time the boys could not see the men, who were hidden by the rocks and brushwood. But presently they caught sight of Sid Todd. He was flourishing a stick at the steer. The animal paid no attention at first, but presently commenced to shake his head from side to side.
"Doesn't like it," was Roger's comment.
"He seems to be saying 'No' quite forcibly," added Dave.
"Now Todd is after him," cried the shipowner's son a minute later. "See, the steer is on the move at last."
"Yes, but he is going after Todd!" answered Roger.
Such was the fact, and presently man and beast disappeared behind some brushwood. Then, when they emerged again, it was seen that the cowboy had lassoed the animal by one of the forelegs. He was mounting the rocks, and the steer was limping behind, trying vainly to shake himself free. He did not seem to know enough to hold back altogether.
"Well, I think that rather dangerous!" declared Phil. "Supposing the steer should run for him?"
"I guess the cowboy knows what he is doing," answered Dave. "If he is pursued, he can easily scramble up on some of the steep rocks and get out of the way."
For fully ten minutes they watched the scene below them with interest. At one time the cowboy would appear to have the best of the situation, then it looked as if the steer would have his own way. But gradually man and beast worked up toward the top of the ravine.
"He'll worry the steer along, if he doesn't get too tired," said Dave. "But it must be a fearful strain on him."
The strain was heavier than the boys anticipated and several times Sid Todd was on the point of giving up the struggle. Perhaps, had he been alone, he might have done so. But, with the others looking on, he felt that his reputation was at stake, and so he worried along, until he suddenly slipped on some rocks and fell flat.
As he went down, the steer appeared to realize the man's helplessness, and with a weird snort he rushed forward, the lasso becoming tangled up on the front leg as he advanced.
"Look out, Sid!" yelled Yates. "He's goin' to hook yer!"
Todd had been a little stunned by his fall, and a bit of brushwood hid the animal from his view. But at the cry of alarm from the other ranch hand he realized his peril and rolled over, between two tall rocks.
On came the steer and struck one of the rocks a blow that resounded loudly through the ravine. Then the beast gave a leap, directly over Todd's body, and landed on the rocks beyond.
"Is he hurt?" asked Roger, anxiously.
"I don't know, but I don't think so," answered Dave.
"See, the steer is coming right up the side of the ravine!" cried Phil. "He is dragging the lasso after him."
"Yes, and he is coming this way!" put in the senator's son. "Perhaps we had better get out of the way!" he added, in alarm.
"Oh, I don't think he'll tackle us," answered Phil.
"There is no telling what he will do," said Dave. "He is coming to the top, that is sure. Maybe we had better get into the saddle. We'll be safer on horseback."
The horses of the three boys were tethered some distance away, and as mentioned before, the lads had to move slowly, for fear of stepping into some hole. As they advanced they heard loud cries coming up from the bottom of the ravine.
"What can be wrong down there now?" questioned the shipowner's son.
"I don't know," returned Roger. "Perhaps they are shouting to warn us."
"That is just what they are doing!" added Dave, quickly. "Listen!"
"Look out, up there!" came from the ravine. "Look out! The steer is coming!"
The boys quickened their pace, but hardly had they covered half the distance to where the horses were tied when Roger suddenly slipped and went down.
"Hurry up!" called out Phil, who was near.
"Oh!" moaned the senator's son, and his face took on a look of pain.
"What's wrong?" asked Dave, coming up.
"My foot! It got twisted, and now it is fast in the hole!" answered Roger. "Gracious! how it hurts!" he went on, making a wry face.
"Come! come!" urged Dave. "That steer is coming! There he is now!" And he pointed to the lower end of the ravine, where the animal had just bobbed up among the bushes, shaking his head from side to side in a queer, uncanny way.
Roger tried to pull his foot from between the rocks, but was unable to do so. Phil had run on, thinking his chums would follow. Dave stopped short.
"Can't you make it, Roger?" he asked, anxiously, and with another glance in the direction of the steer. The animal was now in full view.
"I—I—don't seem to be—be able to!" panted the senator's son. "Oh, if only that steer doesn't come this way!" he went on, in fresh alarm.
"He is coming this way!" exclaimed Dave. "Oh, Roger, let me help you!" And now he bent over and tried with might and main to get his chum's foot free. As he did this the steer came forward slowly. Then the animal gave an unexpected snort of rage and charged full tilt at the helpless youth.
* * *
CHAPTER XIV
A FACE PUZZLES DAVE
It was a time of extreme peril for Roger, and no one realized it more fully than did Dave. The angry steer was still some distance away, but coming forward at his best speed. One prod from those horns and the senator's son would be killed or badly hurt.
As said before, Phil had gone on, thinking his chums would follow. He was already at the side of his horse, and speedily untied the animal, and vaulted into the saddle.
"Why, what's up?" he cried, in dismay, as he turned, to behold Roger in the hole and Dave beside him.
"Roger's foot is fast!" answered Dave. "Oh, Phil, see if you can't scare the steer off!"
"I'll do what I can," came from the shipowner's son, and rather timidly, it must be confessed, he advanced on the animal in question. He gave a loud shout and swung his arm, and the steer looked toward him and came to a halt.
"You've got your gun—if he tries to horn Roger, shoot him," went on Dave.
"I will," answered Phil, and riding still closer he swung his firearm around for action.
Dave made a hasty examination and saw that Roger's foot was caught by the toe and the heel, and would have to be turned in a side-way fashion to be loosened. He caught his chum under the arms and turned him partly over.
"Now try it," he said quickly, at the same time turning once more to look at the steer. The beast had finished his inspection of Phil and was coming forward as before, with head and horns almost sweeping the ground. Behind him trailed the long lasso, which was still fast to one of his forelegs.
"Phil! Phil!" cried Dave, suddenly. "I have it! Catch the lasso if you can and hold him back!"
"I will—if I can," was the ready response. And making a semicircle the shipowner's son came up behind the steer, leaped to the ground, caught hold of the lasso, and sprang back into the saddle, almost as quick as it takes to tell it. Then he made the rope fast to his pommel and turned his horse back.
The steer was but two yards away from Roger and Dave when the rope on his foreleg suddenly tightened, and he found himself brought to a halt. He gave a wild snort, and, just as Roger found himself at liberty, he turned and gazed angrily at Phil and his steed. Then he charged in that direction.
"Ride for it, Phil!" called Dave, but this warning was unnecessary, for the shipowner's son was already galloping a
cross the field as rapidly as the nature of the ground permitted. The horse easily kept the lasso taut, thus worrying the steer not a little.
By Dave's aid Roger managed to hobble to where the other horses were tethered, and soon both boys were in the saddle and riding after Phil and the steer.
"I guess the steer is getting winded," said Dave, coming closer. "He doesn't seem to have as much fight in him as he did."
Around and around, in a broad circle, went Phil and his horse and the steer. But the steps of the latter were slower and slower, and presently the beast dropped into a walk and then refused to take another step. Phil came to a halt also, but kept the lasso tight. Then the steer lay down on his side.
"I guess he is conquered," was Roger's comment.
The three boys kept at a safe distance and waited for the appearance of Sid Todd and the other cowboys. Presently Todd came over the rim of the ravine and looked around anxiously.
"Anybody hurt?" he questioned, as he ran forward.
"Roger got his ankle twisted, running away from the steer," answered Dave.
"What did the critter do?" went on the cowboy, and Phil and the others told their story, to which Sid Todd listened with interest. The other cowboys also came up, to look the fallen steer over.
"He sure is a crazy one," said Yates. "If I was the boss, I'd shoot him."
"I'll report about him as soon as I get back," answered Todd. "Say, you had a nerve to take hold of this lasso," he went on to Phil.
"Dave told me to do it," was the answer of the shipowner's son. "It was easy enough—when I was on horseback. I shouldn't have done it if I had been on foot."
"Not much—unless you're a staving good runner," said Yates, with a grin.
The steer was too exhausted to make further resistance just then, and the cowboys had but little trouble in taking the lasso from his foreleg.
"He'll be all right after a bit," said Todd, in answer to a question from Dave. "But I think myself he isn't just O. K. in his head, and the next time we want some fresh meat we might as well kill him off and be done with it."
The cowboy insisted upon looking at Roger's ankle. The member was somewhat swollen, but the senator's son said it would not bother him to ride home. In a little while they were off in a bunch. When quite a distance from the ravine they gazed back and saw that the steer had gotten up and was grazing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
"Well, we have put in a rather strenuous day for a starter," remarked Dave, when they came in sight of the ranch home. "If this keeps up——"
"But it won't," interrupted Phil. "I reckon some days will be dull enough."
The girls were awaiting their return, and they listened with keen attention to what the boys had to tell.
"You must bathe your ankle with liniment," cried Belle. "I'll get some for you," and soon she presented Roger with the stuff. He did as directed, and soon the swollen member felt far more comfortable. During the evening the senator's son took it easy on the wide veranda and in the sitting-room.
"I wish I had seen the race!" cried Jessie, smiling at Dave. "Some day you'll have to have another and let us girls look on."
"What's the matter with you girls having a race?" queried Dave. "That would be dead loads of fun—for us boys."
"Belle would be sure to win—she can ride like the wind," answered Laura.
As soon as it grew dark that evening the girls and boys went indoors, and played and sang. Belle showed her skill on the piano, and Dave and Phil tried the mechanical arrangement of the instrument, with perforated music rolls. Almost before they realized it, it was time to go to bed.
The next morning Roger still limped a little, and it was agreed to take it easy. All wanted to write letters, and the entire day was spent in doing little else.
"How will the letters be posted?" asked Dave.
"Todd will take them over to the railroad station to-morrow," answered Mrs. Endicott.
Shortly after dinner the next day, the cowboy announced that he was ready to take the mail to the station. Phil and Roger had wandered off to the barns, to look at some calves.
"If you don't mind, I'll go with you to the station," said Dave to the cowboy. "The ride would just suit me."
"Glad to have you along," answered Sid Todd. He had taken a strong fancy to the boys and to Dave in particular.
They were soon on their way, Todd carrying the mail in a bag slung over his horse's neck. Man and boy were in the best of spirits, and both made rapid time over the dusty roads.
"Maybe you'll meet a friend of yours at the station when the train comes in," said Todd.
"A friend? Who?" asked Dave.
"That Merwell boy. Yates heard he was coming to-day. One of the cowboys from Merwell's ranch said so."
"I don't know that I care to meet him," answered Dave. "He is no friend of mine."
"That boy ought to have his hide tanned good and proper," growled the cowboy. "He's been a sore spot here for years."
"Have you had trouble with him?"
"Yes, and so has everybody else on this ranch, and on his own ranch, too, for the matter of that. Not that he did anything very bad," continued Todd. "But it's jest his mean, measly ways. He don't know how to treat a hand civilly."
"Isn't his father the same way?"
"Sometimes, but not always. The old man knows that the boys won't stand for too much of that thing."
"Who is at their ranch besides Mr. Merwell?"
"Oh, the regular hands, that's all."
"No young folks?"
"No."
"I should think it would be lonely for Link."
"Maybe it is. But that ain't no reason why he should act so mean," added Sid Todd.
"I should think he'd want to invite some of his friends to visit him."
"Maybe Mr. Merwell don't want it. He's putty close, you must remember, and it costs money to entertain."
"Well, I pity Link if he has got to stay there alone."
"He don't stay all the time. He rides to town, and smokes and gambles, and gets into all sorts of trouble, and then he gets scared to death for fear the old man will find it out," concluded Sid Todd.
They were soon at the station, and there found they would have to wait half an hour for the train to come in. Several cowboys were present and also a gentleman with a white, flowing beard.
"That is Mr. Hooper," said Sid Todd. "He owns a ranch up the river—the Bar X. He's a fine man." And a few minutes later he introduced Dave to the ranch owner.
"Glad to know you," said Mr. Hooper. "I heard that my friend, Endicott, had a lot of boys and girls at his place. Tell Belle she must bring all of you over to my place some day."
"Thank you, I will," answered Dave.
"We haven't any boys and girls there, but I reckon we can give you a good time," went on Mr. Hooper.
Among the cowboys at the station, Dave noticed one tall and particularly powerful fellow. His face looked somewhat familiar, and the Crumville youth wondered if he had met the man before.
"That is Hank Snogger, the fellow who left our place to work for Mr. Merwell," said Sid Todd, in a low voice.
"His face looks familiar to me, but I can't place him," returned Dave. "Did he come from the East?"
"I think he did, years ago. Think you know him?"
"It seems to me I've met him before—or met somebody that looked like him," answered Dave, slowly. He was trying in vain to place those features.
"Don't you remember the name?"
"No."
"We ain't on very good terms any more, otherwise I'd give you a knock-down to him," went on the cowboy.
"I don't know that I care for an introduction," answered Dave. "He doesn't look like a person I'd want for a friend—he looks rather dissipated."
"He was a good man when he worked for Mr. Endicott. But he's not so good since he went over to Merwell."
There the talk about Hank Snogger ended. Once or twice the man looked curiously at Dave.
Each time something in his face struck the youth as decidedly familiar. Yet, try his best, the boy could not place the fellow.
"It's no use," he told himself at last. "Perhaps I don't know him, after all. But I've seen a face like that somewhere—I am sure of it."
* * *
CHAPTER XV
AMONG THE COWBOYS
"Here she comes!"
It was an enthusiastic cowboy who uttered the words, and by way of emphasis he fired his revolver in the air, as he rode up beside the incoming train. It was the one moment of excitement at the station.
The cars came to a halt, and Sid Todd went forward to give his letters to the railway mail clerk. Dave watched the cars and saw two men and a boy alight. The boy was Link Merwell.
The former bully of Oak Hall looked haggard, as if his dissipation in Chicago and elsewhere had done him much harm. His eyes were heavy as he stood and stared about him. Hank Snogger had gone forward, to care for the mail from the Merwell ranch.
"Hello, you here!" cried Link, stepping forward and confronting Dave.
"I am," was the cool answer.
"Got here ahead of me, eh?"
"So it would seem."
"Going to make a spread out here, I suppose," went on Link, with a sneer. "Paint the plains red, and all that."
"I came for a good time, but I don't intend to paint anything red."
"Bah, I know you, Dave Porter! You want to crow over everybody, no matter where you go. But you'll find things are different out here from what they were at Oak Hall," added the bully, significantly. "You can't pull the wool over people's eyes here like you did there."
"I have no more intention of pulling wool than I have of painting anything red," answered Dave, as calmly as before. He could see that Link was in a bad humor and spoiling for a fight.
"I said I was going to get square with you, and I am," continued the bully, loudly.
Dave Porter at Star Ranch Page 9