The Boy Ranchers: or, Solving the Mystery at Diamond X

"A Greaser!" cried Chot. "What makes you think so?"

"I had a glimpse of the noose," said Bud. "It wasn't tied the way any cow puncher ties his. It was a Greaser or I'll never speak to Zip Foster again!"

"Oh, you and your Zip Foster!" scoffed Chot. "But it may be that it was a sneakin' Mex trying his hand with the rope. You didn't see him, did you?" and he turned to Dick.

"No. The first I knew I was being snaked off, and I was mighty scared."

"Naturally," said Dirk dryly. He wanted to let the tenderfoot know that it was not considered unmanly to show signs of fear under the circumstances.

"Did you get a look at 'em, Chot?" asked Bud, turning to the cowboys.

"I mean when you rode out there just before they tried to stampede us."

"Didn't see hide nor hair of 'em," was the answer.

"Well, they didn't get away with what they started after," declared Dirk. "And now, since it's so near morning, there isn't much use turning in until we have something to eat."

"I'll make coffee and sizzle some bacon," offered Bud, for he realized that he and his cousins had had some rest during the fore part of the night, while the cowboys were riding herd before the disturbance happened.

"And can't we circle around the cattle?" asked Nort.

"We could keep 'em quiet while you ate," suggested Dick.

"They seem to be fairly quiet now," remarked Dirk, "but it wouldn't do any harm to circle around 'em. If you have trouble, though," he added quickly, "fire your guns."

"We will!" exclaimed Nort, as he and Dick sprang for their horses. The boy ranchers were eager thus to take their first tour of duty alone, and they were much disappointed when nothing happened. The steers were quiet, after their tiresome racing around in a circle. But that was better than having them stampede, with the possible killing of many.

Slowly the light grew in the east, turning from pale gray to rose tints, and then the sun came up, making the dew-laden grass sparkle brightly. The cattle, many of which had been lying down, got up, rear ends first, which is what always distinguishes the manner of a "cow critter" arising from that of a horse.

Across the range blew wisps of smoke from the greasewood camp fire, and then came the smell of bacon and coffee, than which there is no aroma more to be desired in the world.

"Um!" murmured Nort, sniffing the air.

"Isn't that great?" cried his brother.

"It will be, if we can get some," said Nort, chuckling.

But he need not have worried, for, a few minutes later, there floated to the ears of the boy ranchers the call of Bud:

"Come an' get it!"

The cattle, around which they had been slowly riding, needed no attention now, and in a short time the five cowboys – for Nort and Dick could truly be called by this name now – were eating an early breakfast.

"One good thing came out of this fracas, anyhow," observed Chot, as he passed his plate for more flapjacks and bacon, and replenished his tin cup with coffee.

"What's that?" asked Dick, feeling his neck where the rough rope had broken the skin slightly.

"Well, we'll get an early start," answered the cowboy, "and that's a lot when you're hazing steers to the railroad. Every pound counts for the boss, and you can easily run off a thousand dollars by driving 'em along during the heat of the day. We can let 'em rest at noon if we start now."

"That's the idea," said Bud.

A little later, the remains of the camp fire having been carefully stamped out, to prevent dry grass from catching, packs were slung up behind the saddles – said packs consisting of sleeping canvas, a few utensils and grub – and the start was made.

The cattle were gradually headed in the direction it was desired that they should take – the shortest route to the railroad. Nort rode up ahead with Chot, while Dick, Bud and Dirk kept to the rear to haze along the stragglers.

There was not much trouble. The cattle had been watered and fed, and were in prime condition. At noon a halt was made to save the animals during the excessive heat, but toward evening they started off once more, and traveled until darkness fell. Camp was made again out in the open.

During the day no signs were seen of any rustlers, or other suspicious characters, and at night the young ranchers and the older cowboys took turns riding herd and standing guard.

But nothing of moment occurred, the only sounds, aside from those made by the cattle themselves, being the unearthly yells and howls of the coyotes.

In less than three days the bunch of cattle was safely delivered at the yards, where the responsibility of Bud and his companions ended, the buyer taking charge of them for shipment.

"Did you get the rustlers, Dad?" asked Bud as he and his cousins, with Dirk and Chot, rode up to the ranch buildings after their successful trip.

"No," answered Mr. Merkel, who was out waiting for his son and the others. "They got clean away."

"Did you see who they were?" asked Dirk.

"Well, I have my suspicions," answered the ranchman. "And I'm not through yet. How'd you make out, boys?"

They told him of the night scare and Dick's narrow escape, and the eyes of Bud's father glinted in anger.

"Up to tricks like that, are they?" he exclaimed. "Well, I'd like to catch 'em at it!"

"Do you know what I think?" exclaimed Bud with energy.

"Well, son, I can't say I do," spoke his father. "You generally skip around so like a Jack rabbit, it's hard telling where you are. But shoot! What's your trouble?"

"My trouble is," said Bud slowly, "that I don't know enough about those professors and their gang!"

"The professors!" exclaimed Nort and Dick.

"That's what I said," went on Bud. "I think their pretended search for something is only a bluff. They're high-grade cattle rustlers, that's what I think!"

No one said anything for a few moments, and then Mr. Merkel remarked:

"Well, maybe you're right, Bud. Stranger things have happened. It might pay us to trail these fellows. Certainly there was something queer about them."

"Mighty queer," agreed Bud. "I began to suspect them after they tried to lasso Dick."

"Do you think one of those men – Professor Wright or Professor

Blair – tried to snake me off?" asked Dick.

"Well, no, not one of them, personally," admitted Bud. "They couldn't throw a rope over a molasses barrel. But they set some one up to it, I'll say!"

"Maybe," spoke Mr. Merkel musingly. "We'll have a look at their trail, if we can pick it up. But we've got a lot else to do first."

Indeed Diamond X ranch was a busy place in those days. Dick and Nort could not have come at a better time, and they were such apt pupils that they soon acquired many of the ways of the cowboys, who were willing and anxious to teach them. In a comparatively short time the two "tenderfeet" were no longer called that. They could shoot fairly well, though they were not "quick on the draw," and they were becoming more and more expert with the rope every day.

It was about two weeks after their experience with the unknown user of the lariat that Bud and his cousins were sent to ride herd at the Square M ranch, which was one of Mr. Merkel's holdings. He was planning to get a bunch of steers there ready for shipment, and a buyer was to come and look them over when they had been headed in from the open range to a large corral. Bud and his cousins were to help drive the animals in.

Square M ranch, so called because the brand was the letter M in a square, was a good two days' ride from Diamond X. But the boys had a fine time going, and found plenty to do when they arrived. Gradually the cattle were gathered up, and worked toward the corral.

They were within a day's ride of this haven, when, one afternoon, as Bud, Dick and Nort were moving on ahead of the bunch, which was driven by several cowboys, Bud looked back and let out a yell.

"What's the matter?" cried Nort.

"Stampede!" was the answer, "Oh, boy! Now look out for trouble!"

CHAPTER XV

LOST

Nort and Dick had heard and read so much about a cattle stampede, and heard such a calamity discussed at the ranch house so often, that they rather welcomed, than otherwise, the announcement that one was being staged near them. This was before they realized the full import of it, and saw the danger.

It was like a prairie fire – they had not realized it could be so terrible and menacing until they actually saw it. And see it they did.

There was needed but a quick backward glance to show that a great fear, or rage, which is almost the same, had entered into the three hundred steers (more or less) that were being driven onward.

At one moment the cattle had been progressing in what might be termed orderly fashion. Now and then a steer would try to break out of the line of march, only to be quickly hazed in again by one of the cowboys, or one of the trio of boy ranchers. But now the whole herd had suddenly been galvanized into action, and that action took the form of running forward at top speed.

It would not have been so bad, perhaps, if the stampede had started from in front. If the forward ranks of cattle had begun to race onward, those behind would simply have followed, and there would gradually have been a slackening up. Of course then there would have been some danger, for the front steers might have slowed down first, while those at the rear still came on, trampling under their sharp hoofs those who were unlucky enough to fall.

But, as it happened, the fright had first seized on the rear bunches of cattle and these had started to run, charging in upon those in front of them, who, in turn, were hurled forward until now, a few seconds after Bud had shouted the alarm, the whole herd was in wild motion.

"Come on!" yelled Bud. "Ride for it! Oh, zowie, boy! Ride for it! Ride like Zip Foster would!" and with voice, reins and spurs he urged his pony forward.

"What do you aim to do?" shouted Dick in his cousin's ear as the two thudded along side by side.

"We've got to get far enough ahead so we can try to turn 'em!" yelled

Bud. "It's our only chance. Ride straight ahead!"

Nort spurred up alongside of his cousin and brother, and, as he did so he yelled:

"What you s'pose started 'em off, Bud?"

"Haven't any time to do any s'posin' now!" was the grim answer. "Ride on and say your prayers that your pony doesn't step in a prairie dog's hole. If he does – and you fall – good night!"

The recent tenderfeet knew, without being told, what was meant. To go down before a herd of wild cattle, infuriated because they were frightened, would mean sure death and in horrible form.

As Nort looked back, to see what distance lay between himself and comrades, and the foremost of the herd, he saw several figures on horseback at one side of the running animals. At first he imagined these were Diamond X cowboys who had been in the rear of the steers, and he thought they had ridden up to help the boy ranchers turn the stampeded animals. But another look showed him the men who had been in the rear still in those positions, though they were spurring forward at top speed.

"Look, Bud!" cried Nort. He pointed to the four figures – there were no more than that – at the left of the galloping herd.

"Rustlers – Greasers!" shouted Bud. "They started this stampede!"

"What for?" Dick wanted to know. "They can't hope to run off any under our eyes, can they?"

"They're doing it to get fresh meat!" declared Bud, who never ceased, all this while, to urge his pony forward, an example followed by his cousins with their horses. "They think some steer, or maybe half a dozen, will fall and be trampled to death. Then they'll have all the beef they can eat – for nothing. They started this stampede, or I'll never speak to Zip Foster again."

By this time, knowing Bud as they did, Nort and Dick had ceased to ask about the mysterious Zip Foster. But Nort could not forego the question:

"How'd they do it?"

"Do what?" grunted Bud, as he skillfully turned his pony away from a prairie dog's hole.

"Start this stampede."

"Hanged if I know. They might have been lying in wait for us to come along – hidden out on the range, and they may have all jumped up with whoops, waving their hats, and setting the steers off that way, when we didn't happen to be looking. But that's where the disturbance came from all right!"

With snorts, bellows and heavy breathing the steers came on. Some were old Texas longhorns, but many of the cattle on the Diamond X ranch, and the adjacent possessions of Mr. Merkel, had been dehorned. It was found that more animals could be packed in a car when they had no interfering horns, and the practice is becoming general of taking the horns off western stock.

But even though some were without horns, this herd was sufficiently dangerous. The first thought of Bud and his cousins was to put all the distance possible between them and the foremost of the steers. This they had now done. And it was becoming evident that unless some of the leaders tripped and went down, there was to be no disastrous piling up of animals one on the other. The leaders ran well, and the others followed.

The rustlers, if such they were, seemed to realize that their desperate plan had failed, for, so far, not a beef had fallen. And the Greasers, off to one side, dared not try to cut out, and run off, any animals. To have ventured into the midst of that charging herd would have been madness.

"Come on! Let's see if we can turn 'em!" urged Bud, drawing his gun, an example followed by Nort and Dick. Led by the son of the owner of Diamond X, the boy ranchers charged down on the oncoming herd, from which they had just ridden away. But now they had the advantage. They stood a better chance. If they could turn the leaders, sending them in a circle, the other animals would follow, and soon the whole bunch would be "milling," which is the most desired way to stop a stampede.

"Come on! Come a ridin'! Whoop-ee!" shrilly cried Bud, yelling, waving his hat in one hand and firing in the air with his gun. Nort and Dick did likewise. Straight at the cattle they rode.

It was a desperate chance, but one that had to be taken. Bud knew, if the others did not, that about a mile beyond lay a gully, led up to by a cliff, and if the steers and cows reached this, the leaders unable to stop, while the rear ranks pushed on, there would be a mass of piled-up, dead cattle to tell the story.

"We've got to stop 'em!" shouted Bud.

And stop them, or, rather, turn them, the boy ranchers did. Just when it seemed that the wild animals would rush over, and trample down the three lads, the foremost of the steers turned at a sharp angle, their hoofs skidding in the soil, and swung around.

"Now we've got 'em!" cried Bud. "Make 'em mill! Make 'em mill!"

And this is what the cattle did. Around and around they ran, in a big, dusty circle, while the other Diamond X cowboys rode up.

"That was touch and go," said one of the older riders, when the herd was comparatively quiet. "What started 'em off, Bud?"

"Didn't you see that bunch of Greasers?" asked the rancher's son.

The cowboys had not, it developed, and now, when the three boys tried to point out the rascals the quartette was not in sight. However, something else took the attention of Bud and the older cowboys. This something was a small bunch of steers, galloping off by themselves, but not being hazed by any riders.

"We can't lose them!" shouted Bud. "They belong to dad! Got to get 'em back!"

"We'll go after 'em," offered Nort and Dick. "We can bring 'em back."

"Yes, I reckon you can, while we ride herd on these," said Bud. "I don't want to take any more chances with 'em. Haze the outlaws back this way, fellows!"

Eager to have this responsibility, and to do something "on their own," Dick and his brother spurred away. And before they realized it, Nort and Dick found themselves down in a depression, whence they could catch sight neither of the small knot of cattle they had started out to haze back, nor the main herd.

"Say, where are we?" asked Dick, slowing up his pony, and looking about him. He and Nort were down in a green valley, with hills all around, but no sign of life – animal or human. "Where are we?"

Nort paused a moment before replying. Then, as he drew rein and listened, he said:

"Lost, I reckon!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE VISION

Though Nort spoke with an appearance of calmness, there was something in his voice that made Dick catch his breath. It was not that the younger lad was exactly afraid, but he was on the verge of becoming so.

"Lost, eh?" repeated Dick. Then, as he saw a half smile on Nort's face, and looked about on what was really a beautiful scene, his little worry seemed to vanish as mists roll away in the sun. "Well, if we're lost it isn't such a bad place to be in, and I reckon we can easily find our way back. 'Tisn't like being lost in the woods, as we once were."

"No," agreed Nort, "it isn't." They had gone camping once, with their father, and had wandered off in a forest, being "lost" all night, though, as it developed later, not far from their own folks.

"And I don't see why we can't easily ride back the way we came," went on Dick.

"We can, if we find the way," agreed Nort. "But I seem all turned around. And I don't like to go back without those cattle. We offered to ride off after 'em and bring 'em back, and we ought to do it."

"But where are they?" asked Dick, "and where's the main herd? That isn't so small that you could hide it in one of these valleys!"

They were, as I have said, in the midst of a rolling country, where swales or valleys were interspersed with hills. One moment they had held in view the small bunch of steers that had wandered away from the main herd, but, in another instant, there was no sign of them.

"Listen, and see if you can hear anything," suggested Nort.

Quietly the boy ranchers sat on their horses; the only sounds being the creaking of the damp saddle and stirrup leathers as the animals moved slightly. But there was no sound of lowing cows or snorting steers, and there came to the ears of Nort and Dick no distant shouts of Bud and the cowboys, though the main herd, with the men in charge, could not have been more than two miles away. But, for all that, our heroes were as completely isolated as though a hundred miles distant from civilization.

"I can't understand it!" murmured Dick.

"Nor I," said Nort, "It's just as if those cattle had dropped out of sight in a hole in the ground. Maybe they did, Dick."

"What do you mean?" asked his brother.

"I mean maybe those mysterious professors have been digging big mining holes around here, and that bunch of steers we were chasing just naturally slipped into one. We'd better look out, or we'll drop out of sight ourselves!"

Though he spoke half jokingly, there was some seriousness in Nort's voice, and Dick realized it.

"Those professors sure are queer, with their digging operations," Dick agreed. "I'd like to know what they are after, and why they're hanging around Diamond X."

"Well, I'd like to know that, too," said Nort, "but first of all I'd like to know our way out of this place. There must be some way out, as we didn't have any trouble finding a way in."

"Of course we can get out," Dick answered. "There aren't any trees to amount to anything, and we aren't fenced in. We can ride in any direction we like, and I say let's ride somewhere."

"I'm with you," spoke his brother. "But the only trouble is we might be riding farther and farther away from Bud and the rest of the fellows. Why not try to locate that bunch of cattle we're after? They'll be heading directly away from the main herd, I take it, and if we locate them all we'll have to do will be to drive them right about face, and we'll get back where we belong."

"All right, let's find the steers," assented Dick.

They started their ponies, which, doubtless, had been glad of the little breathing spell. But it was one thing to say find the missing steers, and another to do it. One swale seemed to so melt in with an adjoining one, and one hill to merge with its mate, that they all looked alike to the boys, who, as it developed afterward, kept working their way farther and farther off from their friends.

"Hang those steers! Where are they, anyhow?" exclaimed Nort after half an hour of search, during which no signs had been seen.

"Let's try over this way," suggested Dick, turning to the left.

Though it might seem that in a fairly open country, composed of hills and vales, it would be hard to hide a bunch of cattle, still Nort and Dick, to their chagrin, did not find it difficult. They were completely baffled, and the longer they searched the more puzzled they were.

"Well, there's one thing about it," remarked Dick, when they drew rein, "we shan't starve right away, and if we have to stay out all night we have the same accommodations we have had before," and he tapped the tarpaulin which formed part of his saddle pack.

"Oh, yes, we can camp out if we have to," agreed Nort, "and I shan't mind that. But it's our failure to do the first job we tackled 'on our own' that gets my goat. Bud will sure think we're tenderfeet for fair!"

"Yes, that is bad," agreed Dick. "But it can't be helped. I never did see anything like the sudden way those cattle disappeared, and how we got lost."

For that they were now completely lost, amid the low hills, was an accepted fact to the boys. They had ridden here and there, until, in mercy to their ponies, they pulled reins. Yet they had gotten no farther on their way, nor had they seen sign of the cattle. It was growing late, too, and they realized that soon they must find a camping place for the night, unless they located the homeward trail.

Of course to Bud, or any of the older cowboys of Diamond X ranch, the problem that puzzled Nort and Dick would have been easy to solve. Knowing the country as they did, the cowboys could easily have sensed which way to ride, even though the bunch of cattle might have eluded them.

But the two easterners did not even know which way to head to get back to their friends. They were completely lost and turned about, and their situation was growing more desperate.

I say "desperate," yet that word is used only in a comparative sense. They were in no immediate danger, for they were in the clean, open country, and not in a tangled forest or jungle. There were no wild beasts near, only peaceful cows and steers. They had coverings for the night, and greasewood shrubs, as well as a tree here and there amid the foothills, offered fuel for a fire. They had a small amount of "grub" with them, and they had passed several springs of water, so they would not thirst, and they had the means of making coffee, though no milk was at hand. So, all in all, their situation was not at all "desperate," though it was perhaps annoying.

"Let's fire our guns!" exclaimed Nort suddenly. "We forgot all about them. Bud told us they were mainly used for signaling out here, and we might let him and the rest know where we are by firing a few shots."

"Sure! Go to it!" agreed Dick. "But don't fire too many cartridges," he added.

"Why not?"

"Well, there's no telling when we may want the shells, and we haven't any too many."

"That's so," agreed Nort. "Well, we'll each fire two, at intervals."

This they did, but such echoes were aroused amid the hills by the reverberations of the reports that the lads doubted whether Bud and the other cowboys could accurately determine whence the sound of the firing came.

"We've done our best," said Nort, after the fourth shot had gone echoing among the hills. "Now let's ride on a little, and if we don't get out, or find those cattle, we'll pick a good place to camp for the night."

This struck Dick as being the best thing to do and they urged their tired ponies forward. Dick was casting his looks about, seeking for a suitable place to make the night camp, when he was attracted by a shout from Nort, who was off to one side.

"Did you find 'em?" cried Dick, eagerly. "The cattle or our cowboys?"

"No, but look!" yelled Nort. "We're coming to a city!"

He pointed toward the east and there, on the far side of a green valley, amid green hills, was the vision of a small city, on the banks of a good-sized river. As the boys watched they saw a steamer come up to a dock and stop, though the scene was too far away to give them more details.