by B. M. Bower
“Bill says an aeroplane came and stampeded all you boys yesterday,” she began with much innocence.
“Yeah. One did fly over our haids. I didn’t git to see much of it. My fool hawse, he started in pitchin’ right away, soon as he seen it.”
Mary V paused, meditating upon the significance of his words, his tone, his profile. That there was no particular significance did not in the least affect her deliberate intention.
“I wonder who it could have been!” she said, stealing a glance from under her lashes.
“Hunh? Who? The flyin’ machine? Search me!” This time his tone was surely significant. It signified, more than anything else, that the mind of Tex was busy with other matters. Contrary to the magazine article, his face did not betray his thoughts. “Yore dad buy Jake off’n Bill for yo’ all to ride?” he asked suddenly.
“No. Bill just lent him to me.”
“Hnh! Bill, he shore is generous-hearted to lend yuh Jake.”
“Yes,” said Mary V, smiling at Tex innocently. “Yes, isn’t he?”
But Tex did not reiterate, as pleasant converse demanded. He went off again into meditation so deep that it quite excluded Mary V.
“Yo’ all going to help round up?” Tex asked her suddenly. “You shore can ride the ridges, with that hawse. I guess yo’ all can bring in more hawses than what any two of us kin.”
“That’s exactly what I mean to do,” Mary V assured him promptly. “You’ll see me riding the ridges almost exclusively.”
Tex looked at her and grinned, which did not enhance his good looks, because his teeth were badly stained with tobacco.
“Yo’ all don’t want to ride away over in them breaks toward the southeast corner,” he advised. “That’s a long, hard ride to make. It’s too much for a girl to tackle—combin’ the hawses outa them little brushy draws. They like to git in there away from the flies, in the heat uh the day. But yo’ all better not tackle it, even if Bill lets yuh. I don’t guess he would, though.”
“Bill,” said Mary V with a little tilt to her chin, “does not enjoy the privilege of ‘letting’ me do things. I shall ride wherever I please. And it is possible that I may please to bring in what horses are in the red-hill end of the range. I’m sure I don’t see why I shouldn’t, if I like.”
“Well,” said Tex, “that country’s plumb hard to ride. It takes real work to bring in hawses from there. I wouldn’t tackle that, if I was you; I’d ride out where it’s easier.”
“Oh, would you? Well, thank you very much for the advice, I’m sure.” Mary V looked back, saw the other boys jogging closer, and held Jake in to wait for them. She did not want to tell Tex that she certainly would make it a point to ride the red-hill side of the range. There was probably some sly, secret reason Tex did not want her to go over that way. She remembered that she had seen the Mexican coming from that direction both times. Certainly, there must be some secret reason. Tex was afraid she might find out something.
Mary V waited for the boys, and talked to them prettily, and wondered aloud where her dad was all this time, and hoped he had not had a puncture or anything. Because, she said, it was bad enough for his temper to have to drive the flivver, without any bad luck to make it worse.
She was particularly nice to Bill, and forced him to confess that she really got along perfectly all right with Jake. She comported herself so agreeably, in fact, that Bill was reconciled to her coming and paid no attention when she presently swung off to the southeast, saying that she wanted to get a picture of a perfectly ducky giant cactus which she had seen through her glasses one day. Indeed, the dismal honking of the machine called Bill back to the trail, where Sudden came jouncing along like a little, leaky boat laboring through a choppy sea. Bill rode off without noticing Mary V at all.
It was a little after noon, and the boys were eating dinner at the camp set up close to the creek at Sinkhole cabin. Sudden, sprawled in the shade of the wagon, was staring glumly at the sluggish little stream, smoking his after-dinner cigar and trying to formulate some plan that would promise results where results were most vital to his bank account. It would, of course, take two or three days to gather in all the horses on Sinkhole range, and the restless lot in the corral yonder might be a large or a small part of the entire number down there. Sudden was not worrying so much over those that were left, as he was over what had been stolen. It seemed to him that there ought to be some way of getting those horses back. He was trying to think of the way.
“Oh, Bill!” he called, getting stiffly to his feet. “Let’s get into the cabin and go over those tally books.” Which was merely a subterfuge to get Bill away from the wagon without letting the boys know something was wrong. Bill got up, brushed the dirt off his trousers with a flick of his fingers, lighted the cigarette he had just rolled and followed the boss.
“Bill, what’s your idea about this horse-stealing, anyway? If they were going to steal horses, why didn’t they run off a whole herd and be done with it?”
Bill seated himself on Johnny’s bunk, spat toward the stove, pulled a splinter off the rough board of the bunk’s side, and began carefully nipping off tiny shreds with his finger nails. Bill, by all these signs and tokens, was limbering up his keen old range-bred wits for action.
“Well, I’ll tell yuh. The way to get at the thing is to figger out why you’d do it, s’posin’ you was in their place. Now if it was me that was stealin’ these hawses—say, s’posin’ I was aimin’ to sell ’em over across the line—I’d aim to take the best I could git holt of, because I’d be wanting ’em for good, all-round, tough saddle hawses. Them greasers, the way they’re hellin’ around over the country shootin’ and fightin’, they got to have good hawses under ’em. Er they want good hawses, if they can git ’em.
“Well, s’posin’ ’t I was out to furnish what I could. Chances is I wouldn’t have a very big bunch in with me—say five or six of us, jest enough to handle a few head at a time. I’d aim to git ’em over acrost the line first shot. Anybody would do that. Well, s’posin’ I didn’t have a place that’d take care of very many at a time. Feed’s pore, over there, and a hawse has got to eat. These here hawses are in purty fair condition, and I’d aim to keep ’em in flesh whilst I was breakin’ ’em—I’d git better prices. And then again, mebby I wouldn’t want too many on hand at once, in case some party come along with the gall to loot ’em instead of buy ’em.
“I figger I’d be plumb content if I could take over a few at a time, and let the rest go ahead eatin’ grass here till I was ready for ’em. The longer I could keep that up, the better I’d like it. Same as we been doin’ at the home ranch, y’ see. We didn’t go t’ work and haze in the hull bunch and keep ’em up, eatin’ their heads off, waitin’ till we got ready for ’em. No, sir, we go out and bring in half a dozen, or a dozen at most and cut out what we want. We bust them, and git more.
“I figger, Mr. Selmer, that these geezers down here have been doin’ that very same way. They had the kid baited with that flyin’ machine, so he wouldn’t have no eyes for anything else. And he was here, so you wouldn’t be worryin’ none about the stock. And they’ve been helpin’ theirselves at their own convenience—like Mary V would put it. I dunno, but that’s the way I figger it. And I don’t guess, Mr. Selmer, you’ll see none of yore hawses again, unless mebby it’s the last ones they took. And I don’t guess there’s very much chance of gittin’ them back, either, because we don’t know whereabouts they took ’em to. Way I look at it, you’re doin’ about the only thing that can be did—cleanin’ out this range and drivin’ the hawses all up on the north range. That kinda leaves the jam pot empty when they come lickin’ their lips for more of the same.”
“Well, I guess you’re right, Bill. And how do you figure young Jewel not being here? His saddle is out there in the shed, and all his horses are here.”
“Him?” Bill laughed a little. “Me, I don’t aim to do no figgerin’ about Skyrider. He’s got his flyin’ machine workin’, though, acc
ordin’ to Mary V. I guess Skyrider has mebby flew the country. He’d likely think it was about time—way he gummed things up around here.”
Sudden permitted himself a snort, probably in agreement with Bill’s statement that things were “gummed up” at Sinkhole. He went to the door and stood looking out, his face sour as one may expect a face to be when thoughts of loss are behind it.
“Where’s Mary V?” he turned abruptly to ask of Bill.
“Mary V? Why, I guess she went home. Said something about takin’ a picture of some darn thing; she never come on with the boys to camp, anyhow.”
“She didn’t go foolin’ off with Tex, did she?”
“Tex? No, Tex rode after stock. Had some trouble with his hawse. I heard him tellin’ the boys. Said his hawse run away with him. Come in all lathered up.”
Sudden turned back, went to the telephone, changed his mind. No use worrying her mother by asking if she had got home, he thought.
“You’re sure she went home?” his eyes dwelt rather sharply upon Bill’s lean, leathery face. Bill looked up from the slow disintegration of the splinter. He spat toward the stove again, looked down at the splinter, and then got up quite unexpectedly.
“Hell, no! I ain’t shore, but I can quick enough find out.” He brushed past Sudden and took long steps toward the camp. Sudden followed him.
The boys were standing in a group, holding their hat brims down to shield their eyes from the bitter glare of the sun while they gazed up into the sky, their faces turned towards the south. A speck was scudding across the blue—a speck that rapidly grew larger, circled downward in a great, easy spiral. Sudden and Bill perforce turned and held their own hat brims while they looked.
“Sa-ay, if that there’s Skyrider sailin’ around in an airship, he’s shore got the laugh on us fellers,” Aleck observed, squinting his nose until his gums showed red above his teeth. “Look at ’im come down, would yuh!”
“Wonder where he got it?” little Curley hazarded. “I always told you fellers—”
“Does anybody know where Mary V went?” Sudden’s voice brought them all facing him. They looked at him uncomprehendingly for a minute, then uncertainly at one another.
“Why—she was going to take a picture of a cactus. I dunno where she went after that.” This was Bud, a shade of uneasiness creeping into his face.
“Which way did she go? Toward home?”
“She started that way—back toward Snake Ridge—”
“I seen her riding east,” Curley broke in. “Jake shore was pickin’ ’em up and layin’ ’em down too. I thought at first he was running off with her, but he wasn’t. He slowed down, climbin’ that lava slope—and after that I didn’t see no more of ’er.”
Sudden looked at his watch, frowning a little. Mary V probably was all right; there was nothing unusual in her absence. But this country south of Snake Ridge was closer to the lawless land across the boundary than he liked. Their very errand down there gave proof enough of its character. North of Snake Ridge, Sudden would merely have stored away a lecture for Mary V. Down here at Sinkhole—
“You boys get out and hunt her up!” he snapped, almost as though they were to blame for her absence. “I didn’t tell you before, but I’m telling you now that rustlers have been at work down here, and that’s why we’re taking the horses off this range. This is no place for Mary V to be riding around by herself.”
“It’s a wonder he wouldn’t of woke up to that fact before,” Bud grumbled to Aleck, while he went limping to the corral. “If she was a girl uh mine, she’d be home with her maw, where she belongs!”
“Rustlers—that sounds like greasers had been at work here. Runnin’ hawses acrost the line. For Lord sake, git a faster wiggle on than that limp, Bud! If that poor little kid meets up with a bunch of them damn renegades—”
Bud swore and increased his pace in spite of the pain. Others were before him. Already Tex had his loop over the head of a speedy horse, and was leading it toward his saddle. Curley, the quickest of them all, was giving frantic tugs to his latigo. Bill was in the saddle ready to direct the search, and Sudden was standing by his car, wondering whether it would be possible to negotiate that rough country to the eastward with a “mechanical bronk.”
Nothing much was said. You would have thought, to look at them, that they were merely in a hurry to get back to the work. Nevertheless, if it should happen that Mary V was being annoyed or in any danger, it would go hard with the miscreants if the Rolling R boys once came within sight of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LUCK TURNS TRAITOR
Johnny Jewel, carrying the propeller balanced on his shoulder and his rifle in the other hand—and perspiring freely with the task—came hurrying through the sage brush, following the faint trail his own eager feet had worn in the sand. His eyes were turned frowning upon the ground, his lips were set together in the line of stubbornness.
He tilted the propeller against the adobe wall of the cabin, and went in without noticing that the door was open instead of closed as he had left it. He was at the telephone when Sudden stepped in after him. Johnny looked over his shoulder with wide, startled eyes.
“Oh. I was just going to call up the ranch,” he said with the brusqueness of a man whose mind is concentrated on one thing.
“What you want of the ranch?” Sudden’s tone was noncommittal. Here was the fellow that had caused all this trouble and worry and loss. Sudden meant to deal with him as he deserved, but that did not mean he would fly into a passion and handicap his judgment.
“I want the boys, if you can get hold of them. I’ve located the ranch where they’ve been taking those horses to that they stole. There’s some there now—or there was. I went down and let down the fence of the little field they had ’em in, and headed ’em for the gap. There wasn’t anybody around but two women—an old one and a young one—and some kids. They spluttered a lot, but I went ahead anyway. There’s about a dozen Rolling R horses I turned loose. The brands were blotched, but I knew ’em anyway.
“So I got ’em outa the field, and then we went back to the plane and circled around and come up on ’em from the south, and flew low enough to scare ’em good, but not enough to scatter ’em like that bunch up at the ranch scattered. They high-tailed it this way, and I guess they’ll keep coming, all right, if they aren’t turned back again. The boys can pick ’em up.
“If the boys could come down I think they could get a whack at the rustlers themselves. I got a sight of ’em, with a little bunch of horses, as I was coming back. Far as I could see, they didn’t notice the plane—we were high, and soon as I saw ’em I had Bland shut off the motor and glide. They must have camped just across the line till they got a bunch together, or something. They were taking their time, and if the boys could get down here right away, I believe we could get ’em. If not, I’ll go back and stampede the horses this way, and see if I can’t get me a greaser or two. We had to come back and fill up the tank again, anyway. I didn’t want to get caught the way those other fellows did. Is Bill at the ranch, Mr. Selmer?”
It speaks well for Sudden Selmer that he could listen to this amazing statement without looking dazed. As it was, his first bewildered stare subsided into mere astonishment. Later other emotions crept in. By the time Johnny had finished his headlong report, Sudden had recovered his mental poise and was able to speak coherently.
“Been hunting horses with a flying machine, eh? I must say you’re right up to date, young man. No, Bill isn’t at the ranch. If you’d keep your eyes open here at home, same as you do when you’re flying around next the clouds, you’d see the chuck wagon down there by the creek. I moved ’em down here to save what horses are left. The boys are out now hunting up Mary V. She had to go larruping off by herself on Bill’s horse Jake, and she hasn’t come back yet. I guess she’s all right; but the boys went after her so as not to take any chances. I’m kinda hoping the kid went home. I don’t like to scare her mother, though, by calling up to see.”<
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Johnny’s eyes had widened and grown round, just as they always did when something stirred him unexpectedly. “I could call up, Mr. Selmer, and ask if I can speak to Mary V. That wouldn’t scare her mother.”
“Sure, you can find out; only don’t you say anything about the wagons being camped here. If she asks, say you haven’t seen us yet. She’ll think we made camp somewhere else. Go ahead.”
It did not take long, and when Johnny turned to Selmer he had the white line around his mouth. “She says Mary V went out with you and the boys, to a round-up somewhere down this way.”
“Well, maybe she just rode farther than she intended. But she was on Jake; she deviled us into letting her take him. Bill thinks Jake isn’t very safe. I don’t think he is, either. You say the rustlers were away down across the line, driving a bunch of horses, so there’s no danger—”
“I didn’t say all of them were down that way. I don’t know how many there are. They were just little dots crawling along—but I guessed there were about four riders.” Johnny started for the door, picking up his rifle from the table where he had placed it. “I wish I’d got after ’em as I wanted to, but Bland kept hollering about gas—” He balanced the propeller on his shoulder again, and turned to Sudden.
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Selmer, we’ll get right out after her. Which way did she go? There’s times when an airplane comes in kinda handy, after all!”
“You young hound, there wouldn’t be all this hell a-poppin’ if it wasn’t for you and your bederned airplane! Don’t overlook that fact. You’ve managed to hold up all my plans, and lose me Lord-knows-how-many horses that are probably the pick of the herds; and you’ve got the gall to crow because your flying machine will fly! And if that girl of mine’s in any trouble, it’ll be your fault more than anybody’s. If you’d stuck to your job and done what I’ve been paying you wages to do—”