Mason of Bar X Ranch

There was a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

He felt the sting of it keenly. They were now far in advance of Ethel and Percy. Mason stopped and placed himself in her path.

“Josephine,” he spoke rapidly, “I don’t care for Waneda or any girl, only you.”

She drew herself up haughtily.

“Please let us not continue this subject,” she said, eyeing him coldly, “there is Bud just ahead of us and I wish to talk with him.”

Before he could prevent her she had passed swiftly by him while he stood staring blankly after her.

“Now, what have I said to offend her?” he demanded angrily of himself.

Bitterly condemning himself for having said something out of the way, and racking his brains in vain to think what it was, he made his way to the corral in a disturbed frame of mind.

“Josephine must think I am a clumsy brute, and I don’t know as I blame her. Jack, you always did have a fool way of putting your blundering foot in bad with the women, but this girl, oh hell, but I have made a mess of things.”

Thus harshly denouncing himself, he paused at the corral. Josephine’s favorite horse, Fleet, caught his eye, and leaping the bars he took a lump of sugar from his pocket and held it out temptingly to the animal. Fleet gave a whinny of delight and raced over to him.

“Anyway, I can keep on good terms with you, can’t I, old top?”

The horse munched the sugar and tried to put his soft nose into Mason’s pocket.

“No more, Fleet,” he said gently, “or I will be winning you away from Josephine, and then she would have another chance to get sore at me.”

From where he stood he could see Josephine and his sister; they were talking gaily with Bud, while Percy was staring at the cowboys from a safe distance.

They were gathered in a small group and as Mason watched, one of them started to walk past his comrades, imitating Percy’s walk and mannerisms.

Mason’s good nature returned with a burst of humor.

The cowboy was really a good actor and he imitated Percy’s ways to perfection. Evidently the cowboys had planned on a fake fight for Percy’s benefit. The cowboy paused in his walk and a violent quarrel took place between him and one of the men.

Percy was staring at them with horror in his eyes.

Suddenly one of them pulled his gun and firing from his hip brought the quarrel to an end. The other cowboy sank to the ground as though mortally wounded. Percy gave one look and fled to the house.

The incident caused a hearty laugh from all the men, but Josephine cautioned the cowboy not to repeat the performance. Soon after the breakfast bell rang and Mason joined his sister and Josephine on their way to the house.

“You missed the fun, Sir Jack,” Josephine said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, I didn’t,” he retorted, vaguely wondering at her change of manner. “I was in the corral and saw all that took place, and believe me, it was amusing.”

“I will have to square myself with Percy, he will think we are all roughnecks out here,” she said, a little frown wrinkling her face.

“Nonsense,” he laughed, “I’ll just go right up to Percy and say, ‘What’s the matter, old chappie, don’t let a little thing like that frighten you, old chap. It’s a common occurrence out here, old top, dontcherknow, or don’t you know?’”

“You will do nothing of the kind,” Josephine cried, eyeing him severely; “why, you would scare the poor fellow away.”

“Small loss,” he answered, smiling again as he thought of the incident.

Josephine disdained to answer him. There was an appetizing breakfast awaiting them at the house, and for once Mason was as hungry as a wolf. Josephine made all hands wait, however, until she had her mother go to Percy’s room and drag him from his lair. It was evident that she had succeeded for the party could hear him following her downstairs. Percy was soon made to feel at ease for all acted as though the incident was forgotten. In the course of an hour they all assembled near the corral where the cowboys were beginning to show off their various stunts. Ethel was especially struck with the way one cowboy, running his horse at full speed, swept another man off the ground with apparent ease and swung him in front of him, his horse keeping up his terrific rush with scarcely a break. She clapped her hands in admiration at this feat of horsemanship. Percy seemed awestruck at the reckless daring of the riders and when the men passed in review after the sport was over, his eyes were held as fascinated at the sight of the guns sticking out of the cowboys’ belts. Bud Anderson had ordered his men to go armed since the Ricker faction had showed such open hostility of late.

Mason had noticed MacNutt during the cowboy games, but the man did not take part in any of the riding.

“MacNutt didn’t go to Trader’s Post after all,” he mused thoughtfully, “now where did the fellow go?” Happening to look over in Josephine’s direction, Mason saw that she was carrying the field glasses that he had presented to her. The girl evidently took delight in them for she occasionally swept the trail and far off mountains with them. He was walking slowly over to join her when he heard her give a startled exclamation.

“What is it?” he questioned, hastening to her side.

“Riders coming this way, and quite a body of them,” her voice seemed lost in wonder as she answered him.

“Oh, they are Ricker’s cowboys,” she continued, “run and tell Dad and Bud, quick!”

Mason quickly informed Bud and the ranch owner of Josephine’s discovery.

Bud hastily gathered the cowboys around him.

“Now, boys,” he said in clear, concise tones, “Ricker is coming here and I don’t know for what purpose, but if he and his men are looking for trouble we will give it to them quick enough. Don’t none of you men draw until you see me draw first. Is that clear to you?”

His eyes took on a steely glint as he spoke the last words. There was a murmur of assent from the men, but Tex stepped forward with an air of defiance.

“I don’t allow we’re going to stand by and see you get plugged first by Ricker,” he growled sullenly, “we all know Ricker is the quickest man in this part of the country that ever throwed a gun, and Bud, we don’t aim to stand by and give him a chance to throw his gun first.”

Bud listened calmly, the muscles of his face hardening.

“You will do just as I ordered, Tex.”

The words were spoken so low and without any trace of passion, that Mason could scarcely hear him. Then Bud placed his men after cautioning them again.

Mason could see he held marvelous control over them, and he began to understand why the ranch owner had made him foreman.

Waneda, the Spanish girl, had crept up to Mason while Bud was addressing his men, and she seemed strangely agitated at the news that Ricker and his men were coming.

Mason felt sorry for this poor waif of the plains and wished that Josephine would be more kind to her. It wasn’t Josephine’s nature to be harsh with anybody, he reasoned, but he could see that she seemed to hold a strong dislike for Waneda, and he couldn’t understand the reason for her dislike.

Josephine still had her field glasses trained on the riders. They were near enough now so she could make out Ricker in the lead with about a dozen cowboys.

“I thought at first that they were old man Gaylor’s cowboys instead of these swine,” the ranch owner burst out wrathfully.

In answer to an inquiring look from Mason he explained, “Gaylor owns a ranch just across the valley from here. His place is sixty miles from my ranch and sometimes he and his cowboys pay me a visit. They are right fine people and I thought at first this bunch of riders were his men.”

Ricker and his men were now riding up to the corral at top speed. They made a fine appearance, and Mason had to admit they were superb horsemen. When Ricker caught sight of Bud with his men drawn up in back of him, he flung up one hand and his cowboys came to a halt. Two of his men seemed to have trouble in controlling their plunging horses, and Bud watched them narrowly to guard against a trick.

Ricker was the first to speak.

“Anderson, I’ve come to repay that visit you and your men made at my ranch a short time ago”; his tone was sneering and his face worked with passion as his eyes fell on Waneda and Mason.

“That’s nice,” Bud answered coolly, “is that all you have on your mind to-day?”

“Not by a damned sight!” Ricker burst out furiously. The sight of Mason seemed to madden him. “I’ve come for that girl there,” pointing to Waneda. “Mason, did you have anything to do with getting her to this ranch, you damned – ”

“Better not say it,” Mason cut in sharply, while taking a step forward. He turned around and looked at Waneda.

“Do you wish to go back with this man, Waneda?” he questioned her.

“No,” the girl gasped in fear.

“That settles it,” Mason said grimly, “Ricker, I guess your quarrel is with me. Now, I want to tell you something. Any man that will bulldoze a helpless girl has got a yellow streak, and if you’ll get down off your horse I’ll prove it. You’ve threatened my father in the past and I know you’re out to get me. Now, I have no weapon about me and I want to know if you are man enough to get down off your horse.”

The sudden turn of affairs caused surprise among Ricker’s cowboys, while Bud and his men sat staring at Mason in amazement. Ricker was fairly choking with rage as he was put in a bad light before his men, and he could only sit and glare at Mason.

“I will agree to let you take Waneda back with you if I don’t prove you have got a yellow streak,” Mason continued scornfully; “you came over here to pick a quarrel with me and you know it.”

“That is fair enough, Ricker,” Bud spoke up suavely. His voice seemed to have almost a purr in it. “The boy has called your turn. I will see that my men behave themselves, if you will promise your men will be good, but remember I’m watching you all.”

Ricker spoke a few sharp words to his men and they fell back leaving him face to face with Mason.

“I’m going to take some of the conceit out of you, you young upstart,” he said with pitying smile as he drew his guns and handed them to Bud. “You’re going up against a full grown man and I’m going to break you.”

Mason knew he would have a tough job on his hands as Ricker was of the brute type and outweighed him by forty pounds. Mason fell back to join his mother and sister as they were calling frantically to him.

They both appealed to him not to fight Ricker, Josephine and the ranch owner joining in with them.

“I intend to get revenge for Dad’s sake,” he told them simply, and they knew it was useless to argue with him further.

Bud went over and had a talk with Ricker. Soon he came back and drew Mason to one side.

“Ricker says he won’t stand for any rules to this fight, lad,” he said kindly, “the best man to win at any style he likes best.”

“That suits me,” Mason answered with a laugh; “I’ll box with him every minute.”

Ricker announced that he was ready, and the two combatants began to circle around, each looking for an opening. Mason held his hands as though to grapple with his opponent, when Ricker, thinking he saw an opportunity to get a hold, suddenly darted in and received a swinging blow to the jaw that dazed him. He fell into a crouch, as the blow had hurt him, and took a lightning uppercut for his pains. As he backed away, Mason could see that he was full of fight and a hog for punishment. The man was a regular giant in stature and the way he recovered from the effect of the blows amazed Mason. He decided to change his tactics. Ricker rushed him furiously, his great brawny arm trying to encircle Mason’s body. Mason easily side-stepped this mad rush and shot a snappy punch to his opponent’s eye, completely closing that member. He followed this blow with a series of body punches before Ricker could clinch him. Mason worked his arms free and swung a fierce left to Ricker’s face cutting a wide gash over his other eye, and causing him to back away cursing. Mason followed up his advantage, swinging short body blows that brought a spasm of pain to Ricker’s face. The bully was breaking ground now before Mason’s relentless smashes and tried to clinch at every opportunity.

“I knew you had a streak of yellow in you, Ricker,” Mason said coolly as he evaded a wild swing. “Why, your efforts are clumsy, stand up like a man and take a licking.”

Ricker bellowed like a bull at the taunt and rushed at Mason in a wild attempt to finish his nimble opponent with a single blow. The bully’s eyes were nearly closed and his breath came in gasps. His men sat amazed at the easy way Mason was handling him. Some of them nervously fingered their guns, but Bud was watching every move sharply and they didn’t dare make any display of force. Mason set himself and met Ricker’s bull-like rush with a powerful blow to the jaw. The man’s head snapped back while his heels were lifted clear from the ground. Mason had scored a clean knockout, scarcely receiving a scratch himself.

It took some time for Ricker’s men to bring him to, and as he climbed weakly on his horse he pointed a shaking finger at Mason.

“You haven’t seen the last of me, young fellow,” he swore between swollen lips; “I’m going to get you for this, and I want to tell you, too, Anderson, if I catch any of your men on my range, I’m going to make an example of them.”

“That is an idle threat, Ricker,” Bud retorted calmly; “none of my men will venture on your range unless there is a good reason, and then you may be sure I will come with them.”

Ricker frowned darkly at this return to his threat. He gave a command to his men and soon the band were in motion. Josephine watched them in the distance through her field glasses and saw they were taking the fork in the trail toward Trader’s Post.

“Well, I hope this is the last we will see of that crowd,” the ranch owner said with a sigh of relief. “Mason, you sure did beat up Ricker some.”

“I don’t know if Josephine has told you the story or not,” he answered, “but there had been bitter enmity between Ricker and my dad for years, and he came over here mainly to pick a quarrel with me.”

“Josephine did tell me something of the kind,” the ranch owner admitted wonderingly, “but I didn’t pay much attention to her at the moment and it clean slipped my mind.”

That evening, Mason with Bud and the ranch owner’s family were talking over the events of the day and were wondering how far Ricker would go with his threat when they heard a commotion down near the corral. Loud voices reached their ears causing Bud and Mason to spring to their feet. Both rushed out on the porch and at a glance they saw that a tragedy had occurred. Two cowboys were assisting one of their comrades out of his saddle. A third cowboy started on a run for the ranch house. Bud recognized him as Buck Miller.

“What’s the trouble down there, Miller?” Bud called to him.

“One of the Ricker crowd shot up Tex down at the Post!” came the startling answer.

Bud swore softly.

“It’s war to the knife from now on between Ricker and me”; he said the words in the manner of a man registering a vow.

CHAPTER XII – THE RAID

Most of the Bar X riders had been recalled from the range before daybreak. Bud Anderson had them lined up and was explaining the reason of their sudden recall when Mason appeared on the scene.

After a few more terse words to his men, Bud signaled to Mason and they drew off to one side, leaving the cowboys muttering sullen threats against the Ricker faction.

“The men sure are in an ugly frame of mind and want to get at the Ricker crowd,” Bud began in an undertone to Mason. “Tex is a favorite among my cowboys, and I’m going to raid Ricker’s ranch and get the man who did the shooting. Tex got a bullet through his shoulder and close to his lungs, the doctor says. One of our boys was once a surgeon and has been taking care of Tex all right.”

Mason was puzzled over one point; he remembered he had seen Tex just before Ricker’s men rode up.

“How did Tex come to be at the Post when I saw him here when the men lined up behind you?” he queried, “and how did he get in a fight with Ricker’s bunch?”

“There wasn’t any fight,” Bud answered with deadly emphasis to his words. “You remember I had to call Tex down a bit yesterday as I knew he was likely to start something. Well, after that I didn’t pay any more attention to him, and as he is a sensitive cuss, he took a fool notion to wander off down to the Post by himself.

“No one saw him go, and as near as I can make out by his talk, he had drunk a little too much at the hotel and feeling wobbly on his feet he started for the hotel porch to get some air. Just as he opened the door, Ricker’s bunch swung around the corner and one of them took a quick shot at him. The gang never stopped, but made directly for their ranch. Tex says he got a good look at the man that shot him, and I am going after him to-day.

“Tex fell to the floor after he was hit, but he’s as game as a bulldog and ordered the men at the hotel to put him on his horse and he rode for home. The doctor says the long ride is more to blame for his present low condition than the bullet.”

They were interrupted at this point by MacNutt who came hurrying toward them.

“The doctor says that Tex will live,” he said briefly, addressing Bud, and giving Mason a curt nod. MacNutt was standing in his slouching way and regarding Bud with dull eyes.

Bud lit a cigarette and offered one to MacNutt.

“That’s good news,” Bud replied as he watched MacNutt puffing dolefully on the cigarette. “What’s on your mind, man? You act as though you were in a trance.”

MacNutt shifted his feet awkwardly.

“I want to ask a favor of you, Bud,” he said gravely.

“I want you to let me lead your men on this round up of Ricker’s gang.”

It was an amazing request coming from a man of MacNutt’s caliber, and Bud stared hard at him.

“Did I get you right?” he questioned slowly, astonishment in his voice, “Just say that again.”

“I want to lead your men to Ricker’s ranch,” he repeated, turning an appealing glance on Mason.

“Mason, here, knows I can be trusted, and I happen to know the guard at Ricker’s ranch and can take him by surprise so he won’t give the alarm. Then we can surround the ranch, and if we plan to reach there at night we can hold them up before they can pull a gun and you can take your man prisoner.”

It was a long speech for MacNutt to make, but the man had evidently planned the attack out in every detail, while his earnest manner see make a deep impression on Bud.

“I think MacNutt’s plan is a good one at that, Bud,” Mason spoke up, “I think he can be trusted, and as he says he knows the guard at Ricker’s we could make the capture easier. Of course, I can’t figure out how he happens to be on friendly terms with some of Ricker’s men, though,” he went on, giving MacNutt a dubious look, “but perhaps he will explain that to us later. Something tells me he is on the square, but you can use your own judgment, Bud.”

MacNutt gave Mason a grateful look as he finished.

“All right,” Bud said shortly, as though coming to a sudden decision. “I will take a chance on you, MacNutt, but you want to ride straight.”

There was a warning note in his voice.

“We will leave here in order to reach Ricker’s at nightfall. Be sure your guns are well looked after.”

With this parting admonition Bud left them abruptly.

Mason faced around and looked at MacNutt sternly.

“MacNutt!” he said crisply, “I don’t know why I put in a good word for you just now; your actions in the past don’t warrant it, but somehow or other I have faith in you, and now you must make good!”

MacNutt mumbled a few words of thanks as he started for the corral in his odd shambling gait.

“Curious person, that MacNutt,” Mason mused as he gazed absently after him.

Rousing himself with an effort he remembered that Josephine had told him to report on Tex’s condition as the girls intended to pay the cowboy a visit if the doctor would allow it. Waneda had already gone to act as his nurse. He started briskly for the house as there was much to be done by all who were to take part in the raid.

The first person he encountered as he entered the kitchen was Josephine. She at once questioned him about Tex’s condition. He briefly informed her of the cowboy’s chances of recovery and also told her of MacNutt’s strange request of Bud.

Mason noticed that her eyes lighted up at the mention of Bud’s name and his heart felt heavy as he realized that she was deeply interested in anything concerning the sheriff. Josephine was baking cookies this day and as Mason was looking hungrily at a tempting pan of freshly baked cakes, the girl insisted that he should try some and offered him a glass of milk.

“I’ll say these are delicious,” he declared, gazing at her in admiration. He had consumed six cookies and two glasses of milk. “I am afraid I won’t want any supper after all this.”

“If I do say it myself, I can beat Pomp on baking, but he certainly is a wonderful meat cook,” Josephine answered. Her cheeks were flushed from the hot oven and she made a pretty picture as she stood in the open doorway to get a breath of air.

“That makes me think of something I want to ask you,” he said curiously. “Why is it that the cowboys call your cook Smoke and you call him Pomp?”

“The cowboys nicknamed him Smoke, but his right name is Pomp,” she answered.

He moved over to the door and stood beside her.

Josephine was looking toward the bunk-house where the cowboys were moving about and getting ready for the night raid on the Ricker ranch.

“Sometimes I wish I could be a man and work on Dad’s ranch just like one of his cowboys,” she said with a little sigh; “just think of all the excitement you men will have to-night, but you must be careful, Sir Jack, there will be danger in this raid for you.”

Her face clouded at the thought.

“Do you care so very much about my safety then?” he asked eagerly.

“Of course,” she answered, her eyes opening wide as though surprised at his question. “You know I take a great interest in all our boys.”

He looked disappointed.

“I had hoped that you would take a greater interest in me than any of the rest,” he said dejectedly.

“And so I do,” she admitted, regarding him gravely, “you came from the East and have proven very interesting to me.”

“Well, that is something in my favor at least,” he said with a laugh.

His sister entered the room at this moment and he hastily released Josephine’s hand which he had imprisoned.

“What is this, a lovers’ quarrel?” she demanded, looking searchingly at Mason.

“It is nothing,” Josephine hastily protested, “just merely a little talk between Sir Jack and me. He just told me about Tex’s condition, and what do you think? MacNutt asked Bud to let him lead the men to Ricker’s.”

Ethel was surprised at this bit of news and a little later asked her brother to take them to see Tex.

“Percy has been asking us all the morning when we would be ready to visit Tex, and I told him we were waiting for you. Now, don’t you consider that an honor?”

“Where is Percy?” Josephine asked with a smile of amusement.

“Oh, he’s upstairs getting ready to ride a horse that Bud has picked out for him. Why, here he comes now.”

Percy came tripping out into the kitchen and at the sight of him Mason laughed heartily, while the girls were fairly bursting with merriment. He wore a tight fitting tailor made suit, the color a brilliant blue. His feet were snugly encased in a pair of shining riding boots, and he wore a pearl handled revolver in a dainty holster strapped to his belt.

“For the love of Pete!” Mason gasped in wonder. “Josephine, do you think this freak imagines he is going with us in the raid?”

“Hush, the poor fellow will hear you,” she cautioned him while she struggled hard to keep back her mirth.

Percy strode pompously towards the girls. He did not seem to think that he was making himself ridiculous in their eyes.

“This is as good as any show,” Josephine whispered to Ethel, while they waited for this bold bad man to speak.

“I suppose, aw, girls, you are surprised to see me dressed in this fashion,” Percy drawled, grandly tapping the tiny revolver in his belt. “But I am going to help chastise these blooming bounders, aw, Ricker’s roughnecks, I believe.”