The Rover Boys at Big Horn Ranch: or, The Cowboys' Double Round-Up

“You didn’t hear anything about what girls intended to go, did you?” put in Randy.

“I heard Jennie Mason, Ida Brierley, and Nettie Goss mentioned. That’s all,” answered Jack.

He would have given a good deal to have known what was the real attitude of Ruth and May toward the party. But, as before, neither he nor Fred felt inclined to make any direct inquiries.

“It almost looks as if Brassy had expected Ruth to go with him,” murmured the young captain to himself, when he was alone that night. And it must be confessed that the thought made him feel quite gloomy.

After this incident matters ran along smoothly for a week or more at the Hall. During that time the snow commenced to melt and almost before the cadets knew it, it had disappeared entirely.

In the meanwhile there was constant talk of the election for officers that was to take place. Ralph Mason, the major of the school battalion, was about to leave, as was also one of the captains, so there would be first an election to fill these vacancies and then another election in case one or both vacancies were filled by those who were already acting as officers.

“I really think you ought to try for the majorship,” said Gif to Jack. “You certainly have done well as a captain.”

“It would be very nice, Gif,” was Jack’s reply. “But I feel sometimes as if I ought to give some of the other fellows a show.”

“But they may not want it,” answered Andy. “Look at me, for instance. I don’t want to be an officer, and neither does Randy. And Gif here would rather continue at the head of our athletics.”

“Yes, but you fellows are not the whole school,” declared Jack, with a smile.

“I know lots of fellows who want you to run,” declared Spouter. “And you say the word and I’ll go around and do a lot of electioneering for you.”

The matter was talked over a good many times, and fully twenty of the cadets came to Jack and told him they wanted him to run for the office of major. And finally he consented.

“Hello, here’s news!” burst out Fatty Hendry, one day, as he joined his chums. “It’s the richest thing ever,” and he grinned broadly.

“What’s that?” questioned Dan Soppinger, who was present.

“I just heard through Teddy Brown that Brassy Bangs wants to run for major. That he even told one of the professors about it.”

“Why, he can’t do that!” declared Fred quickly. “That is, not without special permission from Colonel Colby or Captain Dale. The major is always chosen from among the captains and lieutenants, or those who have been officers before. That is, if there is any one to pick. It’s only Colonel Colby or Captain Dale who can declare the election open to any one. You can’t put a fellow who has just learned to handle a gun to march at the head of the battalion.”

“Well, of course Brassy didn’t know that, and he wouldn’t believe it until Captain Dale explained it to him. And then he said he thought he ought to be able to hold the position because he was one of the best shots in the school.”

“Well, he certainly is a good shot,” declared Fred. “I saw him shooting at a target one day and he certainly made some marvelous hits.”

“He comes from the West – from some place where everybody knows how to shoot,” declared Walt Baxter. “I heard him telling some of the fellows about it one day. He said he had learned to ride and to shoot when he was only six or seven years old. And he can ride, all right enough, too. I saw him do it one day when I was on the road back of the Point.”

“Well, I think a few of us can do a little shooting,” declared Andy. “Don’t forget that out of a possible twenty-five points Fred once made nineteen and Jack eighteen.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that,” put in Ned Lowe. “That was the time Lew Barrow scored twenty.”

“Yes, and the time I scored the whole of ten,” chuckled Andy. “But I don’t care,” he added proudly. “I guess I brought down my share of small game when we went hunting.”

The talk concerning Brassy Bangs wanting to run for the office of major was true, and the cadet was much disgusted when he found that the regulations of the Hall forbade this.

“I can beat any one of them at shooting,” he grumbled to Paul Halliday, one of his particular cronies and the fellow who had aided in trying to get up the sleighing party.

“Of course you can,” was Halliday’s quick reply. Then he went on: “Say, Lest, why don’t you challenge Jack Rover and his cousin Fred to shoot against you? You can show ’em up in great shape. It would be better than fighting them.”

“I’ll do it!” announced Brassy promptly, for the idea was one that appealed to him. “I’ll shoot against them with either pistols or rifles, just as they may choose. I’ll show ’em up for a couple of dubs when it comes to handling firearms.”

“That’s the talk!” broke in Billy Sands, another of Bangs’ chums. “You say the word and Paul and I will take the challenge to the Rovers right away.”

“All provided Colonel Colby or Captain Dale will permit the contest,” said Brassy sourly. “Maybe that’s another one of the things their dirty rules won’t allow.”

The matter was talked over for a while longer, and the three boys went off to interview Captain Dale. He listened to them with a smile, and then nodded.

“Of course you can have a contest of that sort if you desire, Bangs,” he said presently.

Following this the challenge to Jack and Fred was promptly issued. It, of course, came as a surprise to the Rovers.

“We ought not to dirty our hands with a fellow like Bangs,” declared the young captain to Fred.

“Oh, we can’t afford to refuse, Jack!” cried his cousin. “If we did the fellows in the Hall would think we were afraid.”

And thereupon the challenge was accepted.

CHAPTER IX

THE SHOOTING CONTEST

It was decided that the shooting contest should take place the next day.

“It doesn’t give us much time to practice,” grumbled Fred.

“We might as well have it over with,” answered Jack. “There is no use of allowing it to interfere with our lessons or with the coming election for officers.”

“Do you think we can shoot as well as Brassy?”

“We can try, Fred. From all reports he’s quite a wonderful shot. It seems he comes from a place where everybody is used to firearms.”

It had been decided to hold the contest on the regular range back of the school grounds. Fred and Jack had been in favor of rifles, but the boy from the West had voted in favor of pistols. As a consequence, Captain Dale had told them the contest would be divided into two parts of a possible fifteen points each, the first part to take place with pistols and the second with rifles.

“Say, you fellows have just got to snow Brassy under!” cried Randy. “Don’t leave him a leg to stand on.”

“That’s easy enough to say, Randy,” answered Jack. “But it isn’t so easy to do.”

“I know it, and I was only fooling. However, do your best and make some kind of showing against that loud-mouthed fellow.”

Early on the morning of the contest Jack and Fred received permission to take rifles and pistols and do a little practicing with the firearms. They went out alone, not wishing to be disturbed by any one.

As they were crossing the fields they saw a figure coming from a side road. The person approaching had the cape of his overcoat drawn up tightly around his throat and wore his cap pulled down well over his forehead.

“That fellow looked like Brassy Bangs,” declared Fred, as the distant figure leaped over a hedge and disappeared.

“It certainly did look like Brassy,” answered his cousin. “But what in the world could he be doing out so early in the morning?”

“Maybe he was practicing a little on his own account.”

“He didn’t have any gun with him.”

“That’s right. But he might have a pistol.”

“He never struck me as a fellow who would get up so very early. He always appeared to be rather lazy. And besides that, he didn’t come from the range. He came from the river road.”

“I know it, Jack. Maybe he’s been out all night for a good time with some of those fellows from town.”

After this the two Rovers lost no time in hurrying to the rifle range, and there practised with their pistols and their rifles until it was time to return to the Hall for roll call and the drill before breakfast.

“Well, we may not win, but we’ll make some kind of a showing,” remarked Fred.

It was a clear day, the air just bracing enough to put the cadets of Colby Hall in good spirits. When the time came for the contest nearly all of them hurried to the range.

“Now then, Lest, show ’em what you can do!” cried Paul Halliday.

“The Rovers won’t have a look-in!” broke out Billy Sands. “It will be a regular walk-away for Lest.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” answered Gif.

“Brassy may be all right enough with a pistol; but don’t forget that Jack and Fred know how to handle a rifle,” added Spouter.

A coin was tossed up and it was thereby decided that the contest with pistols should take place first. Each contestant was to shoot three times, the rings on the target counting from 1 to 5. The three contestants were to shoot in rotation, Fred first, Brassy second, and Jack last.

If Fred was a trifle nervous when he went to the front to shoot, he did his best to control it. Taking as careful aim as possible, he fired.

“A three!”

“That’s good enough for a starter!”

With a self-satisfied look on his face, Brassy Bangs strode forward, took quick aim, and fired.

“A bull’s-eye!” shouted Billy Sands in delight.

“I told you he could do it!” added Paul Halliday.

When Jack came to the front he managed to make a 4.

“That’s the stuff!” cried Randy. “You’re only one point behind!”

On the second round Fred managed to make a 4, while Jack scored a 3, thus tying the Rovers. Brassy scored a 4.

“Seven to nine in favor of Bangs!”

Then came the third round, and again Fred scored a 3 and Jack did likewise, while Brassy delighted his cronies by scoring another bull’s-eye.

“A total of ten each for the Rovers!”

“And fourteen for Bangs!”

“I told you Lest could hold ’em down!” shouted Billy Sands.

“Just wait till they shoot with the rifles. He’ll walk away from ’em!” added Paul Halliday.

It must be admitted that the Rovers and their chums were somewhat disappointed that the score stood four points in favor of Brassy.

“Now, Fred, do your best,” whispered Andy to his cousin, as the latter went to the front after carefully examining the rifle handed to him by Captain Dale.

The firearm was a light affair, but of approved pattern and supposed to be quite accurate for use at a distance of two hundred yards.

Fred took longer to aim with the rifle than he had with the pistol, and there was a breathless silence until after the report rang out.

“A four!”

“That’s the stuff, Fred!”

“Now, Brassy, let us see what you can do!”

As confident as ever, Brassy Bangs came to the front, took the rifle handed to him, and shot rather hastily.

“A three!”

Jack was up next, and to the dismay of many of his friends made only a 2.

Then came the second round with rifles, and in that Fred scored a 4, Bangs a 1, and Jack a 3.

“Hurrah! Fred Rover and Brassy Bangs are tied with eighteen points each.”

“And Jack Rover has fifteen points.”

Then came the final round, and amid a breathless silence Fred shot and scored a bull’s-eye. Then came Bangs, and made a 2. And Jack ended the contest with a bull’s-eye.

“Hurrah! Fred Rover wins the match with twenty-three points!”

“Yes, and Jack Rover and Brassy Bangs are tied for second place with twenty each!”

“Hurrah for Fred Rover!”

“Pretty good shooting, I’ll say!”

“It was all to the merry, Fred!” exclaimed Jack, as he caught his cousin’s hand. “You did fine!”

“The best ever!” burst out Andy.

“Say, Jack, why don’t you and Brassy shoot off the tie?” questioned Spouter.

“I’m willing,” was the ready reply of the young captain.

“I’ll shoot off the tie with pistols,” put in Brassy quickly.

“No, let it be with rifles,” broke in Randy.

“I’ll tell you what I think would be fair,” announced Captain Dale. “Each of you take one shot with a rifle and one shot with a pistol.” And after quite a little discussion it was so agreed.

The pistols were used first, and there Brassy made a bull’s-eye while Jack managed to register a 4. Then the rifles were used, and here Jack, shooting first, made a bull’s-eye while Brassy got a 2.

“Hurrah! Nine to seven in favor of Captain Rover!”

“Some shooting, Jack!”

“If you had shot as good as that in the first contest you might have beaten Fred.”

“I’m quite content, even if I didn’t beat Fred,” announced the young captain, with a smile.

Brassy Bangs was quite gloomy over the outcome of the contest, and he and his cronies lost no time in quitting the range.

“I’m mighty glad you two fellows beat him,” announced Gif. “Maybe it will take a little of the conceit out of him.”

“Well, Gif, you’ve got to admit he’s a wonderful shot with the pistol,” answered Jack.

“Yes. And his rifle work isn’t any worse than mine,” answered Andy. “Now, I’ll promise to make a lot of bull’s-eyes for you if you’ll let me use a good-sized shotgun or a blunderbuss,” and at this there was a snicker.

For the rest of that day Brassy Bangs had little to say. But the next morning he was as loud-mouthed as ever, declaring that he would have won the contest had he been allowed to use his own pistol – a long affair of the old-fashioned western variety.

“Had he done that it might have given him one more point,” declared Randy. “Of course that would have put him ahead of Jack in the first contest, but it wouldn’t have helped him when it came to the rifle work.”

“Oh, let’s drop Brassy,” said Jack. “I am really getting tired of hearing of him.”

“I can’t bear him,” put in Phil Franklin. “Once or twice he has tried to become chummy with me, but I’ve always given him the cold shoulder.”

It was now drawing on toward the time for the election, and there was a great deal of wire-pulling among the various cadets as to who might run for the offices. Three names were in the field for the office of major: Jack, a Captain Glasby, and a Lieutenant Harkness.

Glasby was a fellow who was very well liked, while Harkness was a lieutenant who at one time had been more or less of a crony of Nappy Martell, Gabe Werner, and others of the crowd that had been opposed to the Rover boys.

“Well, I sha’n’t complain if Glasby gets the position,” declared Jack. “But I’d hate mightily to see Lieutenant Harkness at the head of the school battalion.”

“I never liked Harkness myself,” put in Spouter. “He isn’t a bit better in many respects than Gabe Werner.”

It was soon noised around the school that Brassy Bangs and his cronies were doing their best for Harkness, while another crowd, led by Bart White, were rooting in rather a lively fashion for Captain Glasby.

“We’ve got to get busy for Jack,” said Gif to Spouter. “Come on! Let’s sound out all the fellows in the Hall we think we can influence.” And thereupon he and Spouter and a number of others set to work to electioneer for Jack as hard as they could.

Several days before the election Andy and Randy obtained permission to go to Haven Point on an errand. It was rather a disagreeable, misty day, and they were tramping along through the mud on the outskirts of the town when they saw Brassy Bangs and a stranger ahead of them. The stranger was a tall, thin individual, dressed in an old-fashioned suit of rusty black and with a big slouch hat pulled well down over his head. He was puffing away at a large black cigar, and seemed to be very much in earnest in what he was saying to Brassy.

“I saw that fellow around the school about a week ago,” declared Randy. “He didn’t look like a very nice sort, either.”

“He certainly has a fierce-looking mustache,” was Andy’s comment. “And it’s as red as his hair.”

“I tell you I can’t do it, and that’s all there is to it,” the boys heard Brassy exclaim, in reply to something the stranger had said.

“And I say you’ve got to do it,” returned the man, and his tone was decidedly ugly. “You’ve got to do it – or otherwise you’ve got to take the consequences.”

“You wouldn’t be so mean, Haddon!” pleaded Brassy, and now the Rovers could see that he was more or less scared.

“Wouldn’t I?” returned the strange man harshly. “You just try me and see! The best thing you can do is to agree to what I said. If you don’t, well – ” and here the tall man shrugged his shoulders – “you’ll do as I said before – or you’ll take the consequences.”

CHAPTER X

SPOUTER’S SECRET

“Say, this is rather interesting,” remarked Randy in a low tone to his brother.

“That fellow is certainly threatening Brassy,” returned Andy. “I wonder what it can be all about.”

“He wants Brassy to do something.”

The two Rovers kept on behind Bangs and the man called Haddon, and presently saw them turn down a side street where was located a small factory that had been in operation during the war but which was now closed. Both disappeared into a shed attached to the factory.

“Let’s see if we can find out what it’s all about,” said Randy.

“I’m willing,” answered his twin. “Maybe that fellow will grow abusive and hurt Brassy.”

“Well, a good licking wouldn’t hurt him,” answered his brother, with a grin.

“Oh, that’s all right. But we don’t want to see him half killed even if we don’t like him.”

“You trust Brassy to take care of himself,” was the quick reply.

The twins hurried to the shed and there found that the door had been left open and that the man and their fellow-cadet had gone into another part of the low building.

“You know as well as I do that that barn and them hosses was worth at least twelve thousand dollars,” the man was saying to Brassy. “That was a big loss for John Calder.”

“Please don’t say another word about it!” pleaded Brassy.

“I won’t if you’ll do as I told you to.”

“But I’ve let you have a hundred and ten dollars already! It’s every cent I can spare!”

“Well, I’ve got to have more.”

“I’ll bet you’ve been gambling it away, Haddon.”

“It’s none of your business what Bud Haddon does with his money!” exclaimed the stranger, with a toss of his head and blowing a ring of tobacco smoke toward the ceiling of the shed. “If you don’t want me to start things you do as I told you to.”

“Do you know what I think!” exclaimed Brassy, after a pause. “I think those tramp cowboys were guilty.”

“You can’t put that off on no cowboys!” exclaimed Bud Haddon. “I know all about it, and so do Jillson and Dusenbury.”

“They don’t know anything – at least they don’t know anything about me!” cried Brassy. But it was plainly to be seen that he was exceedingly nervous. “Somebody’s been cooking up a story against me!”

“Ain’t nobody cookin’ up nothin’,” growled the man. “I know what I’m talkin’ about. You’d better get busy if you know when you’re well off. If you don’t, and your uncle gets wind of this – well, good-night for you!”

“Oh, don’t say anything to my uncle! Please don’t!”

“Well, then you get busy. I’ve hung around here about as long as I intend to. I’m goin’ back to Chicago in a few days.”

At this juncture the Rovers heard a noise outside, and several boys playing hide-and-seek appeared. Not wishing to be discovered by Brassy and his companion, Andy and Randy hurried out into the street and up to the corner. Here they waited for a while, and presently saw Brassy and Bud Haddon come forth. The man sauntered away in the direction of the town while Brassy sped off on the winding road leading to Colby Hall.

“Now what do you make of this?” questioned Randy, as he and his brother continued on their errand.

“It looks rather suspicious to me,” answered Andy. “It looks as if Brassy had done something that wasn’t right and this man was going to expose him unless Brassy paid over some hush money.”

“Yes, and from what Brassy said, he evidently has already paid the man one hundred and ten dollars.”

On the way back to Colby Hall after their errand was finished the twins discussed the matter, but could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion. That evening they told their cousins of what they had heard, and also mentioned the matter to Gif and Spouter.

“It looks to me as if that Bud Haddon had a hold on Brassy,” remarked Jack. “But whether Brassy is really guilty or not of some wrongdoing remains to be found out.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to do something that wasn’t right,” came from Fred.

“That remains to be seen, Fred. Brassy might do some things that we wouldn’t do; but at the same time I doubt if he’s so very bad at heart. He’s loud-mouthed and has a hasty temper, and he likes to show off, and all that sort of thing, but that doesn’t say he’s a criminal.”

“That Bud Haddon looks like a bad one,” announced Randy. “I wouldn’t trust him with a nickel.”

“It certainly is a mystery,” came from Fred. “Just the same as it’s a mystery about Professor Duke.”

“Gosh, don’t mention Duke!” broke out Gif. “I had all I could do to keep from getting into a row with him this morning. He certainly is a tart one at times.”

“But he looks troubled,” answered Jack. “Ever since Colonel Colby spoke about him I’ve been watching him carefully. And, believe me, that man has something on his mind that’s far from pleasant.”

“He certainly comes and goes a good deal,” said Spouter. “He was away several hours last night and the night before. And I understand he’s going away to-morrow afternoon again.”

“Colonel Colby must know it’s all right. Otherwise he wouldn’t let him go away so much,” declared Gif.

On the following morning when the mail was distributed Spouter received a letter from his father that interested him greatly. He read the communication several times, and then, placing it in his pocket, ran off to where he had left Gif.

“Come on, Gif!” he cried gayly. “I’ve got great news! Come ahead and help find the Rovers.”

“What’s the news?” demanded the other, as they hurried on side by side.

“Just wait and I’ll tell you all about it – maybe.” And then Spouter stopped short, struck by a sudden idea. He thought for a few seconds and then his face broke into a broad smile.

The two boys found the Rovers up in Room 20, which the four cousins used as a sitting room. All were busy studying and looked up in surprise as Spouter dashed in with Gif at his heels.

“Glorious news, boys! Glorious news!” sang out Spouter, as he beamed at them.

“What is it?” they demanded in chorus.

“Glorious, I tell you, glorious!” Spouter waved his hands eloquently. “Why remain cooped up here within the dingy walls of a school when the mighty plains, the boundless forests, the leaping streams, and the azure blue of the skies await you? Why snuff the tainted air of the musty classroom when the free ozone of the hills and mountains beckons to you? Why waste time over musty books when rifle and fishing rod can be had, when one can fling himself in the saddle and go dashing madly across the – ”

“Jumping crabs and hopping mud turtles!” exclaimed Andy. “Spouter has got ’em again!”

“What is this, Spouter?” demanded Randy. “A moving picture, or just a plain everyday nightmare?”

“Ha, ha!” continued Spouter, prancing around. “Whoopee! Bang! Bang! Let her go, boys! Lasso him quick before he gets away!” and the talkative cadet made a movement as if throwing a lasso.

“Say, Spouter, come down to earth, will you?” cried Jack, grabbing his chum by the shoulder. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Maybe he swallowed a few yeast cakes by mistake,” remarked Andy.

“It’s the best news ever, fellows!” went on Spouter. “I got it this morning.”

“All right! Let’s have it,” came quickly from Fred.

“I’ve been waiting for this news for several weeks.”

“News from where?” came from the others.

“News from home.”

“From your dad?” questioned Randy.

“Exactly.”

“What has he done now – bought you an automobile?” questioned Gif.

“Better than that!”

“For goodness’ sake, spill out what you’ve got to say!” returned Fred, in exasperation.

“When we went to Cedar Lodge on our grand hunt we were Gif’s guests,” resumed Spouter. “This summer the tables are to be turned, and all of you are to be the guests of yours truly.”