They returned to the tavern, and there the communication was written, and later on dropped in the post-office. Then they held another consultation.
“Those fellows around that ranch are all armed beyond a doubt,” said Tom. “I think we ought to get something in the shape of firearms.”
“We’ve got a gun and a pistol now,” answered Dick.
“Say, I ton’t vos go pack of der been schootin’ goin’ on!” cried Hans. “I tole you dot Sack Todd been a pad man.”
“You can remain behind, Hans,” returned Sam.
“He can go on to Mr. Denton’s,” said Songbird.
“Not much—I stick py der crowd,” said the German youth. He thought it worse to leave them than to confront any possible perils.
Their horses had been fed and cared for, and by the middle of the afternoon each was provided with a pistol, the extra weapons being secured at the local hardware establishment.
“Afraid of outlaws?” questioned the man who sold the pistols.
“There is nothing like being armed,” answered Dick. “On some of these trails, there is no telling what sort of persons you will meet.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Tom when they were on the street again. “Why not take our time and move on Red Rock ranch after dark?”
“And lose our way,” came from Sam.
“Well, we can’t use that trail in the daylight. That old man will be sure to halt us.”
“We can get around the old man somehow,” said Songbird. “As soon as we spot him, we can make a detour.”
By four o’clock, they were on the way. Not to excite suspicions on the part of any of Sack Todd’s friends who might happen to be around, they left Caville by a side trail and then took to the back road after the last of the houses of the town had been passed.
“I’d just like a long ride over the prairie,” cried Sam. “I know I’d enjoy every minute of it.”
They had proceeded less than a mile when Hans went to the front.
“I dink dis horse vants to let himself out a leetle,” said he.
“I’ll race you,” said Sam, and away they started at a breakneck speed.
“Hold on!” cried Dick. “Don’t tire yourselves out in that fashion. We’ve got a good many miles to go yet.”
But neither of the racers paid any attention, and soon they were a good distance to the front. Hans was doing his best to keep ahead of the youngest Rover, and, as his steed was a little the better of the two, he had small difficulty in accomplishing his object.
But, alas, for the poor German boy! The race made him careless of where he was going, and soon he found himself on the very edge of a swamp, similar to that encountered before.
“Whoa!” he yelled to his horse. “Whoa!” And then he added: “Sam, go pack kvick!”
“What’s wrong, Hans?”
“It ist all vet aroundt here, und I—Du meine Zeit!”
As the German youth finished, his horse stepped into a fair-sized hole on the edge of the swamp. On the instant, a cloud arose from the hole.
“Hornets!” screamed Sam, and backed away with all speed.
“Hellup! hellup!” yelled Hans. “Ouch! Oh, my!” And then he tried to back away. But the hornets were angry at being disturbed in their nest and went at him and his horse with vigor.
“Something is wrong with Hans,” observed Dick, looking ahead. “See, his nag is dancing around as if it was crazy.”
“Oh, me; oh, my!” roared Hans, slapping to the right and to the left. “I vos stung in more as a hundred blaces. Hellup me, somepotty! Dis vos der vorse yet alretty! Git avay, you hornets! I gif you fife dollars to git avay!”
“Ride off, Hans,” called out Fred. “Don’t stay near the hornets’ nest. It will only make it so much the worse for you.”
Thus advised, Hans backed and started off. But, instead of going off by himself, he rode directly into the crowd.
“Hi, you, keep away!” sang out Tom, and then, as a hornet alighted on his nose, he went on: “Whow! Haven’t you any sense?”
“Anypotty vot vonts dem hornets can haf dem, free of charge, mit drading stamps drown in,” answered Hans. “Git avay!” and he rode on.
“The cheek of him!” put in Fred, who was also bitten. “We ought to drive him back into the hole.”
“Not on mine life!” said Hans. “I vos so stung now I can’t see mine eyes out of, ain’t it!”
All lost no time in getting away from the vicinity of the hornets’ nest, and presently the pests left them and went back to the hole, to see what damage had been done.
“This is an experience I didn’t bargain for,” said Songbird, who had been stung in the cheek.
“Maybe you’d like to make up some poetry about it,” grumbled Tom. “Oh, how my chin hurts!”
“And my ear!”
“And my nose!”
“Humph! Look at my eye!”
So the talk ran on, and the crowd looked at each other in their misery. But the sights were too comical and, despite the pain, each had to laugh at the others.
“Didn’t know you had so much cheek, Songbird.”
“My, what an awful smeller Fred’s got!”
“Dick’s left hand is a regular boxing glove.”
“I’m going to put some soft mud on the hand,” returned Dick. “There is nothing better to draw out the pain of a hornet’s sting.”
“Den gif me some of dot mut, too,” said Hans. “I ton’t vos care how he looks, so long as it makes me feel easier.”
Mud was easy to procure, and all used it liberally, and before long the pain and swelling began to go down. But their sufferings did not cease entirely until many hours afterwards, while poor Hans could not use one eye for two days.
“After this, we had better keep our eyes open for hornets’ nests,” observed Dick.
“I certainly don’t want to be stung again,” said Sam.
“I believe a fellow could be stung to death by such pests,” ventured Fred.
“Yes, and a horrible death it would be,” answered Dick.
The encounter with the hornets had delayed them greatly, and it was getting toward nightfall before they went on their way again.
“We may as well take our time,” said Tom. “We can’t reach Red Rock ranch until to-morrow.”
After crossing a level stretch of prairie, they came to the edge of a woods. Not far off was a shack similar to those to be seen all over this section of our country.
“Hullo, here is a house,” cried Dick. “I wonder if anybody lives here?”
He dismounted and, walking forward, looked into the shack. On a bed of boughs a heavy-set man was sleeping.
“Hullo, there!” called out the eldest of the Rovers.
The man sat up in alarm and made a movement as if to draw a pistol.
“What do you want of me?” he asked roughly.
CHAPTER XVI
A SCENE FROM A TREETOP
“I don’t know as we want anything of you,” said Dick. “We chanced to be riding by, that is all.”
“Oh!” The man looked relieved and let his hand drop from his pistol pocket. “Are you alone?”
“No, there is quite a crowd of us.”
At this, the man leaped up and looked out of the open doorway of the shack. His face fell again when he saw so many, and all well mounted.
“May I ask what you are doing here?” he questioned, turning his sharp eyes on Dick once more.
“We are doing a bit of traveling overland. We were on a houseboat, but we got tired of riding on the Mississippi.”
“I see. One of them ‘personally conducted tours’ a feller reads about in them magazines, eh?”
“That is pretty close to it,” and Dick smiled, more to throw the man off his guard than any-thing else. He did not like
the looks of the stranger in the least.
“Don’t go an’ git lost, young man. Have ye a guide?”
“No, but I don’t think we are going to get lost. What place do you call this?” the eldest Rover continued, thinking to ask some questions himself, and thus keep the fellow from becoming too inquisitive.
“This is Pluggins’ Palace;” the man gave a short laugh. “Did ye ever hear of Pluggins?”
“No.”
“Pluggins was a pretty fair sort, but had a habit of stickin’ his nose into other folks’ business. One day, so the story goes, he went too far, and nobody has seen him since.”
“Was he killed?”
The man shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t ask me, stranger. He disappeared, and that was the end of him. He used to live here, and the boys writ that motto to his memory.” And the man pointed to a wall, upon which hung a board, on which had been painted the following:
ThiS iS iN MEMorY Of SiLAs plUGGinS he waS A GooD MaN bUT hE coULD NOT kEEp HiS NOsE FRoM oTHeRS bISSnESS. tAkE wARNiNG.!
Dick read the lines with deep interest, and so did all of the others.
“They didn’t know much about sign painting, but they evidently knew what they wanted to say,” remarked Tom. “Do you live here now?” he added, to the strange man.
“No; I was only taking a nap, that’s all.”
“Are you on foot?” asked Fred.
“No, my hoss is close by.” The man gave a loud whistle, and soon a slick-looking mare came into view from behind the shack. “Reckon I must be goin’.” He pointed to the board on the wall. “Kind of a sign to set a feller to thinkin’, eh?”
“Just a bit,” returned Dick dryly.
“It don’t do to stick your nose into what don’t concern you. Good-by.”
The man left the shack, leaped into the saddle on the mare, spoke to the steed and, in a second, was off like the wind around a turn in the woods.
“Gracious, but he can ride!” was Tom’s comment. “That mare is a peach!”
“Another mystery,” came from Dick. He gazed at the board on the wall. “Do you know what I think?”
“What?” asked Songbird.
“That is an out-and-out warning—”
“Sure.”
“A warning meant for just such persons as ourselves.”
“You mean it is a warning to keep away from Red Rock ranch?” asked Sam.
“I do. And I think that fellow was on guard, just as the old man was on that other road.”
“If he was, why didn’t he stop us, then?”
“Because we took him unawares, and because he saw that we were too many for him.”
“By Jinks, Dick, I think you are right!” cried Tom. “And, if you are, it is more than likely that he has gone to the ranch to warn Sack Todd.”
“Exactly, and that means warning Dan Baxter, too. I tell you, boys, there is something behind all this, and I, for one, am in favor of doing our best to solve the mystery.”
“I am with you.”
“So am I.”
“And I, Dick! You can count on me!”
“Vell, ton’t I vos here, too?” came from Hans.
“But we must go slow,” said Tom. “It would be nonsense to rush forward. We’d be certain to walk into some trap.”
The matter was talked over, and it was decided to leave the vicinity of the shack before making an extended halt. They did not know but what the strange man would come back accompanied by Sack Todd, Dan Baxtex and others equally willing to do them harm.
They plunged into the woods in the direction the man had taken, but, coming to a brook, rode their steeds down the watercourse for half a mile, thus completely destroying their trail. Then they came out and urged their now tired horses up a small hill, from which to get some idea of their surroundings.
“It’s too dark to see a thing,” announced Tom, after he and Sam had mounted to the top of a tall tree. “But I think we could get a fine view from here in the daytime.”
Again they held a discussion, and it was decided to go into camp where they were. They had brought some cooked food with them, so did not have to start a fire, and, being tired, all fell asleep in short order, leaving Wags on guard, as they had done before.
When they awoke, the sun was shining brightly. Wags was missing, having gone to hunt up something to eat in the brush. All swallowed a hasty repast, washing it down with a drink from the brook. Then Tom climbed the tree again, followed this time by his big brother.
“I see a ranch—out that way!” cried the fun-loving Rover after a look around. “Dick, can’t you see it?”
“Yes, Tom, and it must be the one we are seeking, for, see, there is a series of rocks behind it, and they are red.”
Dick was right—the rocks were certainly there, and there could not be the slightest doubt regarding their color.
The ranch was a long, low-lying place and so far off they could see it but imperfectly.
“We may as well draw closer,” said Dick, and began to climb to the ground, followed by his brother.
There was no path through the woods, and the tree branches were so low-hanging that they were willing enough to walk their horses. Soon the tangle grew so thick they were forced to dismount and proceed on foot.
“I trust we don’t get into a pocket,” said Sam. “It would be a job to get back the way we came.”
“I see a clearing ahead,” announced Songbird a little later, and presently they reached an opening, in the midst of which grew a tall pine tree.
“I’m going to shin that tree,” announced Sam, and went up, and so did all of the others, reaching the topmost branches only after a difficult climb lasting ten minutes.
They were well rewarded for their efforts, for from the top of the tree they could see a long distance in all directions. But they had eyes only for the ranch, which now stood out strongly in the bright sunlight.
“I see two men walking about the place,” said Sam. “But I can’t make out their faces.”
“There is a big wagon approaching from a road yonder,” announced Dick. “It seems to be filled with hay.”
They watched the approach of the wagon, which lumbered along slowly, although drawn by a pair of powerful looking horses. At last, the wagon reached a side entrance to the ranch and came to a halt, and the driver dismounted.
Five minutes passed, and then four or five men came up to the wagon. The hay, which was on top, was cast aside, revealing some machinery resting on the bottom of the wagon.
“Some farming machinery,” said Fred. “But why did they have it covered with hay?”
The men tugged at one of the pieces of machinery and at last lifted it from the wagon. But, instead of setting it on the ground, they disappeared with it into the ranch.
“Hullo!” ejaculated Dick. “If that is farming machinery, why are they taking it into the house?”
“Maybe it’s a heating apparatus,” suggested Sam.
“Yes, they need it in this weather,” said Tom sarcastically.
“Well, what is it, then?”
“That remains to be found out,” said Dick. “This certainly is a place of mystery,” he added. “It is assuredly no ordinary ranch.”
One piece of machinery after another was carried into the ranch, until the wagon was empty. Then the turnout was taken into a big barn at the back of the ranch.
“That show is over,” said Songbird. “I won-der what the next act in this drama will be?”
They remained at the top of the tree for an hour or more. During that time, they saw several men moving around the ranch and some thick smoke coming from a broad chimney, but that was all.
“How much longer are you going to stay here?” asked Sam presently.
“No longer,” answered the eldest brother, starting t
o descend. “I am going to investigate this whole thing and find out just what it means!”
CHAPTER XVII
THE BANK BILLS ON THE TABLE
“Dick, this is a dangerous piece of business,” said Fred, after the entire party was again on the ground.
“That’s right,” broke in Songbird. “Don’t forget the warning on the wall of the shack.”
“I am not afraid,” answered the eldest Rover. “There is some great mystery here, and I feel it ought to be investigated. Why, those men may be bandits, or something like that, for all we know.”
“They are certainly not on the level, or they wouldn’t put up with a fellow like Dan Baxter,” came from Sam.
“Dot ist so,” said Hans. “At der same dime, ve ton’t vont to put our mouths into der lion’s head alretty!”
“I’ve got a plan,” said Dick after a pause. “I do not think it a wise move for all of us to go forward at once. I think two will be enough. The others can stay here and await developments.”
“Then you have got to take me with you,” said Sam promptly.
“Sam, you had better let me go with Dick,” put in Tom.
“No, I want to go,” insisted the youngest Rover, and so it was at last decided.
“I don’t see how you are going to approach that ranch in broad daylight,” said Fred. “As they have guards on the road, it is more than likely they have guards around the ranch also.”
“I think I’ll wait until night, Fred—or at least until it is dark.”
After that the boys spent the time in exploring the woods and looking over the plains beyond. They saw several wagon tracks, apparently leading to nowhere in particular, and they also found something of a cave, covered with logs and heaped-up brushwood.
“Something more to investigate,” said Tom, and began to pull the brushwood away, followed by his companions. The logs followed, and there was revealed to them an opening at least twenty feet square by half that in height.
“What do you call this?” questioned Tom, as he kicked something of metal lying under a pile of dead leaves.
“It’s a roller of some sort,” answered Songbird. “And see, here are some cog-wheels and a lot of old shafting.”
“Machinery, and quite some of it, too,” murmured Dick. “They must run a regular factory of some sort here.”
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