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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35071-8.txt b/35071-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fdc20f --- /dev/null +++ b/35071-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7302 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts On The Range, by Lieut. Howard Payson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range + +Author: Lieut. Howard Payson + +Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE + BOY SCOUTS ON + THE RANGE + + + + + BY + LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + + + + + NEW YORK + HURST & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + + Copyright, 1911, + BY + HURST & COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER 5 + + II. NEWS OF THE MOQUIS 23 + + III. THE DESERT WATER HOLE 38 + + IV. SILVER TIP APPEARS 54 + + V. AT THE HARKNESS RANCH 65 + + VI. A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER" 75 + + VII. THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE 87 + + VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD 100 + + IX. THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE 112 + + X. THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING 125 + + XI. CAPTURED BY MOQUIS 137 + + XII. TUBBY'S PERIL 148 + + XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED 161 + + XIV. A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER 172 + + XV. WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT? 185 + + XVI. BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO 195 + + XVII. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY 205 + + XVIII. THE INDIAN AGENT 220 + + XIX. BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT 233 + + XX. THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL 246 + + XXI. THE MAVERICK RAID 257 + + XXII. CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE 269 + + XXIII. THE WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE 280 + + XXIV. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 291 + + + + +The Boy Scouts on the Range. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER. + + +Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy +arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills +clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten +solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines--the +branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into +the white solitudes of the dry country. + +Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns, +overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place +of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the "great sandy." +These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the +deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn +by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,--which has been not inaptly +compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it--makes its slow way. + +Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range +of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges--after much bumping through +scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry +arroyos--at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San +Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little +desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and +mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud--the Santa Catapina Range. + +The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants +of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before +referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward +cars there emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive +settlement. + +The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends +addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the +Eagle Patrol--the first volume of this series--have met before. His +companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the +rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island, +from which village all three, in fact, came. + +"Well, here we are at Mesaville." + +Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings +opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him. +Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several +figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on +the rail, as the train rolled in. + +As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage +exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed +from the porch-rails as if by machinery, and their several owners bent +forward in a frank stare at the newcomers. + +"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby. + +"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt +mischievously. + +"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as +the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter. + +The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was +clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness--at whose invitation they had +come to this part of the country--had advised them to buy. But as they +still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their +generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel +Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of +the latter. + +Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that +book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I., +and how it had been effected. How the boys of the patrol had many +opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably +was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys' +enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable +old town character, were implicated. + +It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their +home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a +stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his +son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London, +whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for +their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness +invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What +adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time +it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept +it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended, +resumed its school term early in the fall. + +Just at this time, however, something happened which was very welcome +to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the +foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be +unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It +was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had +come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the +boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day +on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of +their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip. + +Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's +son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and +rolled out again without his putting in an appearance. + +"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby, +pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro +River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle +of mud-colored water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The +boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it. + +"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more +than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till +to-morrow morning, anyhow." + +Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel +and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and +plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the +dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of +Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel. + +"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on +which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it, +too." + +"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob. + +"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was +made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. He +had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room. + +"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're +waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over." + +Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums +entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which +floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an +investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned. +It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as +if he was enjoying it. + +On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and +Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the +flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows +in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching +the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their +somewhat personal remarks. + +"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks when he grows up," +grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their +seats. + +"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to +eat his soup. + +A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense, +either. + +The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened, +and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot." + +"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came +in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of +sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for +heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated +in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration +in the same inconspicuous place. + +As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught +against Tubby's shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration. + +"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young +cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?" + +"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I +reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness +to the table's approval of this primitive humor. + +Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up +trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers +were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering +went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese +attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and +left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were +shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who +found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their +meal, but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought +him. + +It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two +sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately +trying to aggravate them. + +Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in +their remarks. + +"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the +boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the +condensed milk can. + +"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand. + +"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys." + +"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark." + +"What, Jess?" + +"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East." + +"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?" + +The youth addressed by his companion as Jess looked straight at Rob as +he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly +deserted him with a rush. + +"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They +grow-and-they-grow-right." + +Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes +opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane +signal foretells a storm. + +"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin, +"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see +to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take +their bibs off." + +They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly +cool as ice, stopped them. + +"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?" + +"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air +of self-importance. + +"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly +brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees. + +"How's that?" + +"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever +told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not +natural, and certainly not the other thing." + +Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the +fresh kid," but his companion drew him away. + +"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he +said, as they left the room. + +As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter. + +"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two +discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it." + +The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came +forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with +a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored +mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features. + +"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad." + +"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone. + +"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the +toughest boys in the country." + +"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby. + +"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his +sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please." + +He extended a yellow palm. + +"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket. + +"Three dollars and six bits." + +"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?" + +"That's the charge, stranger." + +Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange +for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions +of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together +with three cups of muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of +curiosity gripped him. + +"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked. + +"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He +seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears. + +"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any." + +"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that +settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault, +is it?" + +There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to +the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There +was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing +across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big +rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in +the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by +the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy +lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon proclaimed that he was off, and +Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when +there came a sudden interruption. + +Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory +voice addressed him: + +"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out." + +The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him, +with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell. + +"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like +a gentleman,--then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to +you." + +"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?" + +"I hope I am one, yes." + +"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going +to give me that chair?" + +"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here +till I get ready to get up." + +"Then I'll have to help you out----Ouch!" + +The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had +bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from +the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed +from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of +fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled +backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of +the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation +recorded. + +"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord +from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy +book the extortion practiced on the boys. + +Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and +Merritt began to realize what was happening. + +His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then +reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob, +but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart +forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the +weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the +middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the +excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his +back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of +constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched +fists. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +NEWS OF THE MOQUIS. + + +"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a +resounding thwack. + +Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his +friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden +detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure. + +"Hold on there. We want fair play." + +It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his +belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had +altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two +young cow-punchers. + +"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet. + +"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with +excitement. + +"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," said Rob, a grim look +creeping over his usually pleasant face. + +A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further +conversation. + +"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher, +one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus. + +"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion," +grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing +Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment. + +"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less +melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here." + +"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to +fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt. + +"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that +fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's +belt. + +But there was no need of the warning. Rob had seen the blow coming +halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul +tactics thoroughly enraged him. + +"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the +astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark +could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive. + +Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just +how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air. +His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor. +Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he +reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same +instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go. + +Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher +followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob +yelled triumphantly: + +"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given +you." + +So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed +chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great +physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had +seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the +Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had +just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor, +who in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But +to the cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat +had been little short of marvelous. + +They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and +this time he remained in undisputed possession of it. + +"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group. + +Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young +cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached +Rob. + +"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar +contraption?" + +"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about +the corners of his lips. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The +assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure, +however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark +Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and +stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face +as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly: + +"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?" + +"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark. + +"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on +his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?" + +"Help you out--how?" + +"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him." + +"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted +in spite of himself. + +"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning." + +"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to +get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted +Jess. + +"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings +promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral. + +Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a +sudden swirl of dust. + +"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the +first to notice the approaching column of dust. + +"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you +was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?" + +"Yes, you did," said Rob. + +"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have a bear-cat of a team in to +kick up all that smother." + +Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow +swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind +them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high +seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron +foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up +river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the +brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon, +with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels +thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm +water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank +nearest the hotel. + +"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as +the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long +whip three or four times round his head and concluded the flourish with +a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot. + +An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating +mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the +single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his +lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet. + +"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets," +laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and +Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged. + +"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in +order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled +up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove; +"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are +out, and----" + +"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes. + +"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the Moquis' reservation is off +a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but----" + +"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge. + +"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher, +who had been an interested listener. + +"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in +town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas +which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and +although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the +reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and +hold a snake dance." + +"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things +with rattlesnakes, don't they?" + +"Well, no white man has ever seen them--or, if he has, never lived to +tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they +do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when +we woke this morning there were only six. Jose, there--hey, Jose, wake +up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the +end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and +found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp." + +"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt. + +"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found +unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the +night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo, +meaning to come back for them." + +"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?" + +A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He +nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the +spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the +faithful Jess Randell. + +"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas +seems to be in to-day--you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us their +little call just this side of the Salt Licks,--why?" + +"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way +to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like +to know whar to expect the varmints." + +"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but +what have you been doing to your eye?" + +"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went +up. + +"What's all the joke,--what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained, +and the young rancher burst into a laugh. + +"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark +Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!" + +"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a +twinkle in his eye. + +"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your +neighbor, too, for a while." + +"How's that?" + +"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin, +an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and +think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have +a bad name." + +As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard +journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend +the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next +morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by +dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last +time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island +coast. How differently were they now situated! + +After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while +Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite occupation--namely, +taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about the little town a +while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as Mesaville was in +common with most towns of the same character, it boasted several low +dens in which the cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen gambled and drank +their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as usual, there came the +same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as their swing doors +opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their blazing interiors +to the quiet, moonlit desert outside. + +As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the +doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings +and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a +tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell +simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away. + +"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is +now." + +The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded. + +"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get +even with him." + +"We can trust you, Jack?" + +"I'll fix him, never fear." + +"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll ride into town ag'in in a +few days and fix you up." + +"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?" + +"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned +out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?" + +"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered +young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he +spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.) + +After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the +clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the +distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his +crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry +and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby +snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his +aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the +railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at the moonlit water. Where the +bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro +collected and formed quite a deep pool. + +"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when +suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned +quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him. +Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep +embankment. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE DESERT WATER HOLE. + + +As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary +impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out +behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge +abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle +fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured. +He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry +ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for +the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the +one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try +as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt +finally, he made his way back to the hotel. + +The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout +leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions. +Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told, +but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it +remained as blank a puzzle as ever. + +"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but +these"--wringing out his wet clothes--"won't let me." + +"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally," +decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a +thing?" + +"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with +this afternoon," suggested Merritt. + +"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob +could have been shoved over," said Harry. + +"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest +way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a +different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he +would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it +before. + +Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed, +Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their +room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as +his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however. +His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned +till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was +dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as +is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could +easily hear every movement made by their neighbors. + +"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation +that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?" + +"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The +kid is one of that bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton." + +"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him +a good crack on the head while you were about it?" + +"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that +bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender +and Handcraft, will attend to them." + +Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one +of the voices,--that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the +bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however, +except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively +the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes, +enjoined him to silence. + +"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped. + +"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy +voice. + +"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!" + +"What!" + +"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the +bank of the river." + +"Whatever can he be doing out here?" + +"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before +we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father +would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks. +Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming." + +"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same +cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their +conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?" + +"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in +the mountains--where we are going, I gathered." + +"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob. + +"Are you going to have Jack arrested?" + +"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a +conversation is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard +sounded so familiar." + +Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from +Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed +to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in +debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising. + +"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say. + +"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion. + +The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night. +He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of +Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first +volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful +of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early +day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed, +they forgot all about Jack and his threats in the bustle of preparation +for their long trip across the waste lands. + +Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the +corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the +mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile, +and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged. + +"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long, +thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap. + +"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold +of one leg, and I'll take the other." + +Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose, +expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight. + +"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry. + +"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a +row of white teeth. + +"We don't need telling that. You are always asleep, except when you're +eating. Get busy now and hitch up." + +Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes +had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have +been suspected in such an easy-going individual. + +The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line +which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys, +but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only +a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others +follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left, +instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings +the team. + +The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the +first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud +cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to +the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his misadventure +of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad +circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas, +blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon. + +Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons +in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were +Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before. +They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances. + +"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the +daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained +fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed +gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the +vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his +yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were +loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat. + +"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as the wagon started off, the +long whip cracking like a gatling gun. + +All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an +occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen. +As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange +sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above +the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange +phenomena of the desert always are. + +As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue, +began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and +rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills +were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense +masses of shadow, marking cañons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking +range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast +there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several +ranges of cattle roamed. + +The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which +grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was +at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose, +at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip +in the foothills. + +"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy +Mexican saunter off. + +"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility +that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so +ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh. + +"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from +under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to +that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full." + +"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place +in one hand," commented the fat boy. + +"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long you'll take digging for +water as a matter of course." + +"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently, +picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt +followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their +noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and +awaited the return of the boys. + +The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the +dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground. + +"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt. + +"Looks like it," agreed Rob. + +But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber. +Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began +tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and +rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew +some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other performance and arose +with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously. + +"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious +Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast +did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been +made in the soft ground. + +"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly. + +Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly +shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!" + +"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby. + +"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with +withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'" + +"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the +stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are." + +"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt. + +"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly. + +"I will." + +Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly +away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his +efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this +time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods +with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this +accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash. + +Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the +pool. + +"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt. + +"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his +mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me." + +"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather +crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo." + +"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed +interpreter. + +"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost +brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by +reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for +bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and +return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water +cleared. + +"Pretty soon him like glass," he said. + +Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was +nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it, +the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a +yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up. + +But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from +Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so, +for outlined against the sky was a startling figure. + +It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs draped in a blanket of +gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an +instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and +then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim +of the depression. + +"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had +appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might +have been a delusion. + +"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and +fearful all of a sudden. + +"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a +cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had +come. + +The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures, +the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by +magic. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SILVER TIP APPEARS. + + +The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were +surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever +known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle +of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have +defended themselves. + +"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by +his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party. + +"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief. + +"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more +boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's +tone. + +"White boys got money?" + +"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby. + +"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily. + +"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob. + +"We want um." + +It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread +over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money +in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet +and some small change in his pockets. + +"Say, what is this--Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having +solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout +youth and extended his dirty palm. + +"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as +the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief +What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you." + +Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not understand this, or it might +have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next, +and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver +coins. + +"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he +dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged +up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined +him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid +pace. + +"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home +we'd call them noble panhandlers." + +"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was +still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money. + +"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from +across the border. + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on +a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the +steep side of the water hole. He picked it up and opened its folds +carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy +stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book." + +"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some +writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to +yesterday is in this." + +"What, Clark Jennings?" + +"The same. Listen!" + +From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows: + +"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'" + +"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't +see the connection, quite." + +"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if +they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew +they were somewhere hereabouts--you remember he asked Harry about them +yesterday. He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them +and bribe them to hold us up." + +"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby. + +"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and +are comparatively well educated." + +"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising +scholars." + +There came a sudden shout from above. + +"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone +almost an hour." + +Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited +boys. + +"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our +change has gone, too." + +When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the +situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to +be done. + +"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said; +"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we +have more money about us and come back after it." + +A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket +of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who +had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the +Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a +sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly +appeared and hailed the boys. + +He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his +sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look +of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt +that here was a man of action and character. + +"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the +mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?" + +"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they----" + +"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby. + +"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano." + +"What! you have been robbed by them?" + +"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets. + +"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian +agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up +without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold +of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are +really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor." + +"Or money," put in Tubby. + +"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob. + +"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas. +Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the +renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the +dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I +must be getting on, and thank you for your information." + +With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his +horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust. + +"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he +seems the right sort of a chap." + +"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon +moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis +have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all +ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in +the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those +fellows." + +"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get +after that bunch of redskins." + +"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically. + +"Why not what?" + +"Why not form a patrol out here? You know we talked about it in the +East in the brief time we had together." + +"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob. + +"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked +Tubby solemnly. + +"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt. + +"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a +fine scout." + +"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get +enough fellows out here to form a patrol?" + +"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted +division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis." + +"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be +splendid!" + +"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby. + +"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me, +Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some boys, and +get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at +that rate." + +"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby. + +"That goes without saying," laughed Rob. + +As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and +rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan. + +The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a +deep cañon, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees +and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped +through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once +Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands" +of rock. + +"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there." + +"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something" +uppermost in every mind. + +"Indians?" gasped Tubby. + +"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal--a huge beast, it +seemed to be." + +As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and +every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect +yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised +the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly +against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception +of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black. + +"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his +rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon. + +As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of +apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The +next instant he was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +AT THE HARKNESS RANCH. + + +"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest +crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us +about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as +a pony." + +"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously. + +"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every +hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of +them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and +the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but +some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?" + +"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with +silver bullet." + +"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted +too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But +in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will +come." + +"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his +day--I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger." + +"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry. + +Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading +from the cañon into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them +suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds, +dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big +cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a +long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it. + +"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an +admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short +time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging +contrivance which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed +the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without +obliging them to dismount. + +Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and +rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted +cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the +grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a +railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and +squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight. + +Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys +recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in +a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features. + +"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch." + +The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to +greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the deck of a +stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals. + +After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr. +Harkness inquired what had delayed them. + +"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and +they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up." + +The face of the rancher grew graver. + +In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of +the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and +the subsequent events. + +"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said +soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the +foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on +them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness." + +"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we +met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them." + +"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher. + +"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he +was the best Indian agent you ever knew." + +"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade +rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning +desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those +trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in, +boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty." + +Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there +had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the +Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls +were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all +about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and +walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now +filled with fresh green boughs. + +"Why--why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly. + +"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the +boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle." + +"The collection is only lacking in one thing--a single item," commented +Rob. + +"Which is----" + +"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly." + +"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the +time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the +conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts. + +"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely. + +Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come +out. + +"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year," +commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's +an additional peril to the cattle." + +"How is that?" inquired Rob. + +"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue +grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do +with any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is +formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of +steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in +another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have +seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush. +The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to +start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about." + +Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to +further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob +determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that +inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned. +Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of +the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on +it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to +give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near +neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled. + +The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the +proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten +o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they +were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three +small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room. + +Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a +clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house +at full speed. + +"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice. + +"It's me--Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the +horseman who had just arrived. + +"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more. + +"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture +to-night." + +"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it--the Indians?" + +"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again." + +"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over +harping on that yet?" + +"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard +the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see +you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and +we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's +always done before." + +"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew +better than to take stock in ghost stories." + +"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close +to home." + +"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost +won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are +chattering like a child." + +"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be +looked into." + +"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you +get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any +ghost stories. Now be off!" + +"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his +pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come +away from it. + +"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near +here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it +looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER." + + +The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the +conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost +of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the +Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it. +Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at +night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds, +but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it. + +After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that +he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning. + +"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have +one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best the +kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them." + +The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A +short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different +sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade +Moquis. + +The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors +and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken +bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a +huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat. +His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze. +Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky." + +"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired. + +"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?" + +"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your +friends fancy?" + +There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics as he asked this, for +the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore +about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they +bore a brand. + +"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc, +or something more on the rocking-horse style?" + +Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had +had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be +called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert +smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood. + +"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly. + +"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not _too_ much life, if you +please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously. + +"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up +the general spirit. + +"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral +gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you." + +The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies +evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race +round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and +left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some +apprehension, but they were too game to say anything. + +"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled +over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post, +leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a +small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging +by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with +life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the +air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck. + +At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let +his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as +it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and +bucking viciously. + +"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the +cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post, +and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle. + +"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob. + +"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?" + +"Same here, I'm in no hurry." + +"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck +me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky." + +After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin, +and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle, +however. + +"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction. + +Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot +in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and +swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing +happened. The boy felt as if an explosion must have occurred directly +beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the +sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the +corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone +in his body was in process of dislocation. + +"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!" + +Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too, +just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about, +several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on +the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle. + +"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker." + +"Go on, boy! Grip her!" + +"Don't go to leather!" + +These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's +ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the +troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a +cockle-burr, and that without "going to leather," or, in other words, +gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand +the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little +brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance, +and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down +and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this. +As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it +struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as +firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new +performance. + +All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was +five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed +inevitable disaster. + +The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out. + +"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought +the boy. + +The next instant the little broncho rose at the fence. The bars rose in +front like an impassable wall. + +"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head. + +But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the +active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs +just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted +on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and +heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show +white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump +card and lost. + +"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides. + +Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward +the corral gate--a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin +owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the +cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them +by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off his hat and waved it three times +round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from +this little bit of braggadocio. + +"Yip-ee!" he yelled. + +"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was +going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but--all's well that ends +well." + +"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild +West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder +of the conquered buckskin. + +"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly. + +"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster, +boy!" + +"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob. + +Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight +of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had +been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each +provided with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their +heads. + +"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a +big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's. +He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up +the others and issue a call for a meeting." + +The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for +a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy +Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and +Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank +Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton. + +All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the +day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys +wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and +his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no +difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the +case. Rob had, meanwhile, received a letter from Hampton which reported +the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the +famous Eagles first saw the light. + +The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the +boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were +familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them +fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day. + +Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and +were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account +of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader, +with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill +master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed, +subject to immediate call. + +As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated +widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided +that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts at a given +rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the +boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting, +during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on +a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his +exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house. + +"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into +the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!" + +"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his +account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to +show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and +the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must +head them off!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE. + + +Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses +as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never +witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy +Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle +their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole +affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying +it all. Each man knew what was required of him. + +At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last +holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last +expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse +somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what +had occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their +course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous +bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to +their death. + +Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various +obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every +inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than +half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and +other harness details. + +Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been +about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept +forward. + +"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of +hoofs, in Harry's ear. + +"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble." + +Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers +shouting to another. + +"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?" + +"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole +stampede came lambasting on top of him." + +The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a +more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to +draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this +would have shown "the white feather." + +"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry, +after an interval of silence among the boys. + +"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the +others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the +boys will be there ahead of us, likely." + +"How about the others?" + +"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's +all over." + +It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of +dust. All about them, as far as the eye could penetrate the dense +smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys. + +"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby. + +"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can +make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there." + +In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the +cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night +before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started +the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in +case they swept over the cliffs. + +"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob. + +"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday +that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess +they won't disperse till after the snake dance." + +Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt. + +"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was +but one question in every mind. + +"Were they in time?" + +As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their +surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of +plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been +cut out of the ground. This drop--which was fully sixty feet +deep,--formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will +be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow +gulch. + +The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau--which was +undoubtedly of volcanic origin--varied from a hundred feet or more to +fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen. + +But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the +crowd of stampede arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a +halt. + +"Hark!" + +From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much +as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew +steadily in volume. + +"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew +louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the +stampede swept toward them. + +Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread +half across the blue sky, wiping it out. + +"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky +critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them." + +But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that +little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of +courage in his body for the struggle that was to come. + +To the boys, as to the men, the situation was clear enough. Across the +plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the +Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face +of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between +this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen. +They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it +into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest +of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on. + +Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys. + +"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you +come. This is too dangerous for you." + +"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested +Harry. + +"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the +danger." + +There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them +with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their +ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly much gratified at the idea of +avoiding the stampede. + +"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside, +and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch." + +As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the +cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild +yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to +the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank +Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt +of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters. + +Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and +awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they +learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak. + +"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons. + +"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico +pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air. +Indeed, all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were +prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of +the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it. + +"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price. + +"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob. + +"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're +not looking," urged Bill Simmons. + +"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness +decisively. + +"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank +Price. + +"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother +Charley reminded him. + +"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient." + +And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out +in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the +vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish line rank. Each puncher +had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they +rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope. + +Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its +approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little +rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of +fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their +horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came +a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror. + +The boys' faces paled as they watched. + +"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!" + +The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the +stampede. + +Bang! Bang! Bang! + +A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at +full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It +was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death. +At the head of his cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces, +rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay. + +Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without +appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush. + +A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in +checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained +between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space +galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save +themselves from a terrible death? + +"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up +in his stirrups. + +The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were +not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to +overtake the brave man and his helpers. + +"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly. + +This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been +firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the +oncoming herd. + +Bang! Bang! Bang! + +Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally +wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after +twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At +last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their +ranks broke and wavered. + +"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!" + +The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd +split up. + +"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!" + +The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and +he turned his pony sharply. + +"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!" + +"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping +off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped +forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his +hold of the reins, fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But +the second's delay had been fatal. + +Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two +sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to +their instinct, to reunite. + +"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought. + +He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of +escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island. +Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two +sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HEMMED IN BY THE HERD. + + +There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more +perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not +have been devised by the utmost ingenuity. + +Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group +of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified +onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves +shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild +cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no +means out of danger. + +With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle +lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres. +Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his +example. + +An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom +was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about +in that part of the country. + +Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to +him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by +the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only +path. + +Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be +taken. + +A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized +what the boy meant to do. + +Leap the gulch on his pony! + +A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark +crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from +what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he +could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling +flanks. + +Crack! + +The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave +a squeal of rage and bounded forward. + +"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob. + +Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to +have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the +active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before +him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width--ten feet or more. A +tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done. + +"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the +maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the +edge of the pit. + +[Illustration: Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.] + +For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of +death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the +leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling, +shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering +boy, give a great leap upward and--alight safe on the farther side of +the chasm. + +Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled +back at his friends. + +Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before. + +The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried +in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into +the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under +their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a +despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished. + +Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized +that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the +fate of the dumb brutes. + +Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and +ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats +breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature +of these half-wild brutes, having had their run out, seemed inclined to +collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among +them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them +and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them +no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of +quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass. + +While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge +of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been +made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid +down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As +the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly +offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang +from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into +the gulch, above where he was crossing. + +"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy. + +He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but +every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved +away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less +of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to +erect new fences constantly. + +By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for +the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts +could not have been imagined. + +"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected +herd. + +"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never +saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource +will never again be necessary." + +"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue +for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse +here, I'd never have done it." + +"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I roped up that four-legged +bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky. + +"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it." + +"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got +through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it +felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like +that again, will you?" + +"Not likely to, Tubby--but why so earnest?" + +"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and----" + +"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions, +reminds me that we haven't had any dinner." + +"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone +that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on +an air of innocence and rode apart. + +"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far +Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles. +If you boys think you can hold out we can ride over there, and we can +have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?" + +"Down to the ground," said Rob. + +"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his +assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a +meal. + +"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of +approval. + +"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook +us up a fine feed." + +"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone. + +"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those, +too." + +"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony +up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand. + +"Yes--Soapy Sam; what of it?" + +"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby. + +"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with +it?" + +But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and +loud outcries were getting the steers in motion. + +Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough +country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far +Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired +cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp +like a swarm of locusts. + +Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist, +flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of +monotonous chorus: + + "Chick-chock-we-want Chuck! + Chuck-chuck we want chuck! + Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!" + +What's the luck? + +As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots +were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that +staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The atmosphere was redolent with +those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks +and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had +ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way. + +"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch +of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing +punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat." + +"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys. + +"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you +fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and +swopping lies." + +"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one. + +"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come +up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'" + +Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment +by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons boys and +the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys +dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled +their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring +was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time +this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the +bottom of a tin pan with a spoon. + +"Grub!" yelled the cowboys. + +"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula. + +Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member +of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried +potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar +devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of +coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he +plaintively asked for some of that fluid. + +"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see." + +"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?" + +A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query. + +"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr. +Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee +straight, in the regular range way." + +And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning, +rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were +destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires," +but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the +cloudless Arizona sky on the open range. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE. + + +The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were +pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a +while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was +to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill +at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At +first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it. + +"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry, +"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing +a night watch over restive cattle?" + +"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that +I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, and +you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into +mischief." + +"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the +victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of +laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and +waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies +and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the +boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton +were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone +to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four +punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to +keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive +during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully +occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their +guardians constantly near them. + +"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my name is Blinky Small," +declared Blinky emphatically. + +The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find +this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other +means of diversion. + +"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly. + +"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt. + +"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob. + +"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by +the laughter Rob's comment aroused. + +"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?" + +"Where's the ball?" + +"Where are the mitts?" + +"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the +tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big +league collection of stuff?" + +"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of," +said Jeb Cotton. + +"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity. +You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?" + +The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at +least four pounds. + +"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do--brain us?" + +"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically. + +"Couldn't what?" + +"Brain you." + +"Why?" + +"Haven't got any." + +"Any what?" + +"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance. + +"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly. + +"What, the pip?" + +"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments +on Tubby's inspiration. + +"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and +gentlemen, and see the eighth--or ninth wonder of the world--Rob Blake +has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away." + +"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the +laughter at his expense had subsided. + +"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving +them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat----" + +He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke. +However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had +prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs. +One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy +Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire +party from his premises. + +"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?" + +"Go swimming," laughed Merritt. + +"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly. + +"He's got it again--a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby. + +"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave +dwellings?" + +"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys +who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed +to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a +vanished race, but they didn't say so. + +"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up +there and back," said Frank Price. + +Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start. + +"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly. + +"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a +stampede we were called out on." + +The others had done likewise. + +"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of +taking guns with us?" + +"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill +Simmons. + +"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily +remarked the fat youth. + +"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you +scared?" + +"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and +make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby. + +"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an +answer. + +"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry. + +And such was the general opinion. + +As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave +dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture +cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered +sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant +cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain--a slab +some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the +base. + +From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle +trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth +cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees +almost--so far as they could judge--to a point near the summit, and +afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff. + +An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the +mountain--or high hill--which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost +in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty +feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the +cave-dwellers' mysterious homes. + +"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice +"no cave man's home for us." + +It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a +sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave +dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon +holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been +said, all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the +distance. + +"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby. + +"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger +brother. + +"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front +door bells any other way." + +"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob, +who was looking about carefully--"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he +exclaimed suddenly, "look!" + +He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps +cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however, +that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy +Scout leader. + +"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of +the cliff. + +"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob. + +Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down +which one false step would have sent its maker plunging like a loosened +stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and, +with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the +precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock. + +It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling +to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and +the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed +but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors." + +Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the +ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed +him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf. + +"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as +he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the +exertion of his climb. + +"You ought to have been an undertaker, Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All +you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts." + +"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at +going into one of those holes," parried Tubby. + +"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not +much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod +passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence, +too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their +voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization +long passed to ashes. + +"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys, +followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the +rocky portal of the first of the dwellings. + +A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces. + +"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing +it. + +"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt. +Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark passage, +almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the +joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like +the ghost of a baby's whisper. + +"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt. + +"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly. + +"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it +there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the +way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry." + +"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here." + +The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his +waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a +hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were +marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the +long-vanished cave-dwellers. + +Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, that entered their eyes, +ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of +them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his +attention elsewhere. + +"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate----" began Tubby, when his words +were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence. + +A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them +down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It +was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they +stood plunged into sudden blackness. + +The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice +of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts, +and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled +shriek. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING. + + +"L-l-let's get out of here--_quick_!" + +Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious +sounds swept by. + +"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly. + +"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons. + +"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet, +will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and +it was nothing to get scared at." + +"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a +bang on the nose." + +"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton. + +"And me----" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him. + +"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a chance? All that racket was +caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats." + +"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully. + +"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one." + +Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw +lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged +cave-dwellers. + +"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the +cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw." + +"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth +were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into +the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth. + +"Yes, ghosts are----" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His +mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two +big marbles. "Great hookey--what's that?" + +His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances +in the candle-lit circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of +the Boy Scouts. + +"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton. + +"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back. + +"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in +its holster. "It's the wind or something." + +"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's +got feet--hark!" + +Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it +distinctly--a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage. + +"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels. +His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking +dust. + +Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring +at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points +of fire. + +"Who's there?" he cried sharply. + +There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved. + +"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy. + +"A-choo-oo-o--o-o-o-o-o!" + +The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose +nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant +an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors--a cry so terrible +that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely. + +He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six +spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl +more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there +was the sound of a heavy body falling. + +"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded +cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft, +the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of +him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back, +and avoided it by a hair's breadth. + +"A mountain lion!" cried Harry. + +"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've +laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like +this would look white against the cliff face." + +"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who +had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny +creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive +act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places. + +"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in +here proves a mighty interesting fact." + +"And that is, that it's dead." + +"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it +without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to +this place somewhere." + +"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton. + +"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of +the cave, yet this lion is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its +food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the +cave." + +"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly. + +"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt. + +"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion, +"shall we go on or turn back?" + +"We'll go on!" shouted everybody. + +"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby. + +With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party +therefore pressed on into the darkness. + +"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which +not much was left. + +"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry. + +"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong +to try to find a way out this way." + +He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were +behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young +explorers had placed themselves in a predicament. + +Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer +at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward. +Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened, +and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the +tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment. + +Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new +alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a +sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden +"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust. + +The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard +a sharp report somewhere outside. + +Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled +back into the tunnel. + +"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby. + +"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt. + +"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians, +but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move, +fired. I'm going to try to find out." + +"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt. + +"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got." + +Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to +use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob +pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole. + +Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal. + +"Bang!" + +Rob drew in the hat and examined it. + +"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid." + +A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown. + +"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be +able to shoot like that." + +"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when +I looked out." + +"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the +Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he +began to whimper. + +"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they +get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of +it." + +"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob. + +"Huh?" + +"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again." + +"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?" + +"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by +those Indian bullets." + +"But supposing they follow us?" + +"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob. + +"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall +walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at +our heels?" + +"It's all we can do, isn't it?" + +"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the +sooner we start the better." + +"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry +brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set +fire to it. + +"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby. + +"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing +at us, will see it and think we are still there." + +Rob nodded approvingly. + +"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel. +He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so +fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the +other end it was dark, and the stars were shining above them. Far below +they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers +were keeping watch. + +"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the +ledge. "I'm hungry." + +"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the +quicker we'll get some hot supper." + +As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of +gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of +a shout. + +"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody, +quick!" + +A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys +press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed. + +"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said. + +It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into +black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them. + +Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained behind with drawn revolver. +He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out +of the tunnel. + +"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the +rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff. + +"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be +up before----" + +He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the +night. + +Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under +him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff. + +The next instant--for the whole thing happened in the wink of an +instantaneous photographic shutter--Tubby was gone. + +With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of +the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth. +Below him was utter blackness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +CAPTURED BY MOQUIS. + + +Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had +reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath +them. It was Merritt who first found his voice. + +"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?" + +"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat +on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void. + +"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly. + +"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him. + +The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his +excitement. + +"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?" + +"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry +up and get me out of this; I'm hungry." + +"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as +he is in." + +"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was +falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how +long it'll bear me." + +"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly +daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the +mere vibration of his voice. + +"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his +way along his slender aerial perch. + +Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal. + +"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as +quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again. +Bring ponies and ropes with you--all you can get of them, and maybe +Blinky and some of the men had better come." + +"All right, Rob. But how about you?" + +"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now." + +"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were +making full speed to the camp. + +"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone. + +"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this +tree." + +"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as +we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a +life." + +"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck." + +"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they +can get ponies up that trail." + +"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer." + +"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?" + +"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this +tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right." + +"What! You've been moving about?" + +"Sure. I've got to have something to do." + +The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as +the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end. + +"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the +meaning of fear." + +Then he went on aloud: + +"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false +move might send you off into space." + +"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy +tone. + +"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he +were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult." + +For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the +difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the +recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing +them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind--displaced by +Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a bound, which +almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby. + +A hand had been placed on his shoulder. + +Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth +and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face, +the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen +cruel countenances. + +How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The +simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the +soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest +difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was +Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth +of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers. + +"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought. + +But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled +to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a +shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate as plain as print to any +Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off. + +The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly +but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy. +Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of +escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly. +Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have +been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of +their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter +still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging +alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for +the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had +been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye. + +On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along +the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the +carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and it was not long before they +emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary +marksman who had made a sieve of his hat. + +At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then +started forward on a steady jog-trot once more. + +"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in +the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the +circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like +this." + +It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little +of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by +noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the +star-sprinkled sky. + +Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over +rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the +boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same +time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears. +Before many moments had passed, they came in sight of several tepees, +pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible, +cañon. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them. +Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping +at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill +screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the +tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to +meet the returning redskins. + +"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could +say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel +better." + +As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by +a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him +inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with +red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee +covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy +with a piercing eye for a moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to +another tepee, and gave some sort of an order. + +Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had +brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung +roughly into the tepee. + +"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of +his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of +entrance into the patched and smoky tent. + +"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's +a strange experience--captured by real Indians. That's more than any of +the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow." + +No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of +the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him. + +His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West +show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village, +as he watched it busily moving about him. The savory smell of the +Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of +emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food. + +"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself, +"especially after the way they chucked me in here." + +When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes +and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob +began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty, +and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by +hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks. + +"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought +the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and +marched out. + +For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No +attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and +the boy reached the bank of the stream without the slightest +interference being opposed to his movements. + +"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me." + +He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank +of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly: + +"White boy, come back!" + +The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably +Indian. + +Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming +rifle-barrel. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +TUBBY'S PERIL. + + +"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him." + +Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help, +peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain. + +"He can't have gone over, too." + +It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility. + +"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!--below +there--are you all right?" + +"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and +you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind." + +"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as +the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a +loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner. + +"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had +brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying +them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been +informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve +him. + +A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was +not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To +haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the +summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that +great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face. +The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder +that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them. + +Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a +turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found +about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice. + +"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end +of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach." + +He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it +rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear +it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung. + +"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the +darkness and tentatively swinging the rope. + +"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady +as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream. + +"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy +goat sometimes," muttered the puncher. + +"How's that?" he asked a minute later. + +"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it." + +"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You +might lose your balance, and----" + +He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at the other end of the rope. +Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks +told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the +loop fast about him. + +"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator +runner: + +"Go--ing up!" + +"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle +shaken now that the crucial moment was near. + +He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he +extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt. + +"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from +below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them." + +"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus. + +"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with +all your might. That boy's a heavy load." + +"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry +Harkness. + +"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand +his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark, +you know." + +The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the +cliff edge. + +"All right?" he shouted down. + +"All right!" rejoined Tubby. + +Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the +rope. + +"Haul away, boys," he ordered. + +A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the +lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it. + +"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly. + +"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word. + +"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped. + +"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice. + +"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:-- + +"Pull away, boys." + +Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or +more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky. + +"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher. + +Instantly the hoisting ceased. + +"Now, what is it, Tubby?" + +"I just thought of something." + +"What?" + +"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?" + +"Never mind that now. Are you all right?" + +"Yes, except my knees." + +"Ha-ul a-way." + +The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat +boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge. + +As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his +gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck +Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of +the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the +thought flashed across his mind before a shout of alarm came from the +boys, simultaneously with a sharp: + +Crack! + +"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree. + +"It's broken!" + +Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope +began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted. +Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone. + +"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself +onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a +feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending +Tubby's weight. In another moment--for he obstinately refused to let +go--he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened. + +"Hooray! I've got it." + +The shout came in Merritt's voice. + +The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and +secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As the +knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree, +this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff +both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death. + +"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses. + +"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!" +hailed Merritt back. + +"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been +for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by +lightening express, too." + +As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher +had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the +meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action. + +The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope +breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into +a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up +a cheerful: + +"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost +jolted the daylights out of me." + +"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the +puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened. + +"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an +interval of hauling. + +"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me." + +"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers. + +The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to +get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser, +but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a +move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached +the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his +feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker +object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of +humming. It was Tubby crooning to himself as he swung on the end of the +frail rope: + + "See-saw! see-saw! + On a s-um-mers day!" + +"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as +he heard. + +He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist. + +"How's your nerve, Tubby?" + +"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response. + +"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I +want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just +two minutes. Think you can do it?" + +"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth. + +"Yes, or----" + +"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him. + +"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to +his mouth, he shouted upward: + +"Haul away! Slow, now!" + +He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through +them. + +"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound +as a ship's cable." + +Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge. + +"Stop!" roared Blinky. + +He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout +boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him--he could have, that is if +Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock +face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the +ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with +four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover, +in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with, +and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the +other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore--necessity being the mother +of invention--he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall +soon see. + +"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the +cow-puncher. + +"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up. + +"All right, then, grab it--and in Heaven's name, hold on!" + +With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the +rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders. +The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between +him and eternity. + +Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope +around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized +the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip. + +"Haul!" he bellowed. + +The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles. + +"Stop!" + +The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge, +while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists. + +"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing every muscle till they +seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became +contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck +and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the +stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer. + +"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost +lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied +sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the +cow-puncher's arms. + +"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement, +dragging him back. + +"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy +sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A FRIEND IN NEED. + + +"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction. +"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had +imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again." + +The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him +stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would +have shown on the features of a mask. + +"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me, +old chap. I'm going to bed." + +If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and +solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay +down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him. + +"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and +in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as +if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house. + +It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent +flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian +girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish. + +"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets. + +"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet +heard in the Indian camp. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming +dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been +placed. + +"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat." + +"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had +been named after some white Susy Jane. + +"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," remarked Rob, between +mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in +it. + +"Um! Me with Wild West show one time." + +"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?" + +"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place." + +"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?" + +"Maybe." + +"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief +silence. + +"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation. + +"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?" + +"No beans--beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round +neck--savee?" + +Rob nodded. + +"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?" + +"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head +vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows. + +A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's +vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to +work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he +knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself. + +"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,--you know?" he asked. + +"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money +for you. Have big dance." + +"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that +case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely." + +"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of +beads--fine ones, like white ladies wear?" + +The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these +unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea. +Presently her face clouded over, however. + +"How can?" she asked. + +"Me give um you." + +"You?" + +"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but +you have got to do something for me." + +"What that?" + +"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night." + +The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her +refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised +beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then +sprang up, radiant once more. + +"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very +sick. I get you his pony." + +"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about +you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know." + +"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very +old man. Pony very old, too--plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think +pony bust 'em and get away." + +Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in +no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on +to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for +the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event +of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape +would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to +carry it out as soon as possible. + +How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning +of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort +he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night +would never come. + +Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her +moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition. +Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had +been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a +fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve his doubts. Suspense +was all that was left for him. + +As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse. + +"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night," +thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat, +blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat +slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players +ceased and went to their tepees. + +By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and +apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch +the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they +did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert +and awake to the slightest move on his part. + +"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting +himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any +time since his capture. The camp was now as silent as a country +graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional +crackle of an ember falling to ashes. + +Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of +his tepee. + +Surely the flap had moved. + +After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly +rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the +gloom of the shelter. + +"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony." + +"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath. + +Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In +another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky. + +"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark +fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could, +but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which +snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread. + +Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They +looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob, +crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they +were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they +contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual, +resumed their statue-like vigil. + +"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's +cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and +managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another +alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the +encampment. + +Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which +several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled. +Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she +had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles. + +Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, and the other on its +withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second. + +"Which way I go?" he whispered. + +"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find +trail." + +"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget +the beads." + +"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan. + +"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured +her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little +animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It +was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was +given. + +"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the +pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little +animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow, +Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and----" + +Crash! + +The little pony had done just what Rob dreaded. Nimble as it was, a +loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees +with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series +of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy. + +The alarm had been given. + +Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused +shooting. + +Bang! Bang! + +"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope +hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding +"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever +you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER. + + +Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely +stumble. + +"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them," +thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet." + +Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy +pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of +the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their +earshot. + +It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark +night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the +uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in +his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch of +chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his +pony's back. + +Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch. + +"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony +half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs +splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back +on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what +there was of it, set toward him. + +Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense +satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he +had first heard them. + +"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would +only come along----" + +But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not +dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a +book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only +salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden +heart leap, as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek. + +A shrill cry sounded close behind him. + +Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had +approached him so nearly? + +The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again. + +"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!" + +"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's +another answering it--and by George! there's another!" + +From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the +owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the +unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the +steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears. + +"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!" + +As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise. +To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy +showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in +full flight hummed close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a +sharp report behind him. + +Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and +began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in +front of the escaping white boy. + +He was hemmed in by Indians! + +The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness +had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful +woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering +him and surrounding him. + +For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed +by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on +over the rise. + +The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the +approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on +every side of the boy. What was he to do? + +One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in +his extremity. If all went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as +they were to deceive. + +Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of +piñon trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his +surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp. +But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the +very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped +that the pony would trot forward. + +The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that +Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a +desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and +discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians +wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they +shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took +them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his piñon trees. + +Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the +white boy had served craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was +then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew +that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have +stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite +direction to their desired quarry. + +And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of +their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their +mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a +hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him. + +Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the +darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without +food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob, +nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and +through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced. + +Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or +mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground +was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over an acclivity as +steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took +might be leading him farther and farther astray. + +"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good +flat stone would do." + +Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a +flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready +couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun +which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw +over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place. + +Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till +the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by +daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had +not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind +a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension, +when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his +journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep slope dropped +down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while +in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it +without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones. + +But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else +suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of +frying bacon! + +Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was +camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout, +but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the +boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself +from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy +screen. + +Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was +frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation +point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance +from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them +turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to +uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw +the man's features. + +It was Hank Handcraft. + +The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once +luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably +Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was +Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and +the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu +jitsu--Clark Jennings. + +"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to +light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch." + +"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank. + +"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis +now." + +"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was a great idea, dressing up +like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those +sheep off his pastures." + +"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted +Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same +time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the +East--your old pals, Bill." + +"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The +best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack +Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it. +If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank +and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken +country." + +"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since +you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of +Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money." + +"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon +on a hunk of bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob +half crazy to watch. + +"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the +scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have +our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow." + +"That would look good to me," grunted Hank. + +"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to +steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak +of turning them out in the Far Pasture." + +"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take +poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well." + +"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark. + +"I guess that's what you'd call it." + +Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their +temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded +their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. Harkness's cattle, Rob had no +doubt, judging by their conversation. + +"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't +want any one trailing us." + +The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled +ponies stood eying them at some short distance. + +"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their +heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what +was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which +screened him. + +With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and +pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very +careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand +rested gave way with a crash. + +Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung +headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late. + +Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring, +rattling landslide of rocks and earth. + +The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's +involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears. + +"What the----" shouted Hank Handcraft. + +"Who is----" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and +cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own +fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three +of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their +fire. + +"It's a bear!" yelled Hank. + +"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet +and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!" + +"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it. +"That kid's Rob Blake." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT? + + +But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder, +it was dashed down by Clark Jennings. + +"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?" + +Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded +the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash +for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled, +near at hand. + +"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he +reached. + +Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and +half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged +forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an +abrupt turn in the trail. + +"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender. + +"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after +things. Come, Bill--quick--the ponies!" + +In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail +in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad. + +"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?" + +Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail. +Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount. + +"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion +it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely. + +"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?" + +"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our +voices. Say, Clark, what if--what if he did hear?" + +"Then Harkness will find out everything." + +"Yes, if----" + +"Well, if what?" + +"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame +it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the +redskins did it, anyhow." + +Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion. + +"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted +Bill. + +"That's right, too. Do you think you could----" + +Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for +him to voice. + +"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're +hitting up a hot pace for good shooting." + +"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met." + +"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill. +"Hark!" + +Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of +them suddenly slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it +could not have been more than a few feet ahead. + +"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day +was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever. + +Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the +leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was +followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body +had fallen. + +Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to +dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms +assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a +second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A +second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was +mingled with curses. + +"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly. + +"Come here." + +"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I----" + +"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of." + +Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged +his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted, +and was standing over a dark, still object in the road. + +It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly. + +It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet. + +"But the b-b-boy, is he----" stuttered Clark. + +"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill. + +"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone. + +"Yes, clean wiped out." + +"But how?" + +"Ask me an easy one." + +"Hasn't he left a trail?" + +"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane." + +For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat +in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy +rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened +at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished +more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying +by the dead pony. + +Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up +their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made +their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat. + + * * * * * + +At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the +piñon and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's +inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on +a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr. +Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt +Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers. + +The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with +his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been +hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than +would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and +the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off. + +The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing +into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made +a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way. + +Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had +accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on +foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an +Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the +Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy +only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of +those who were searching for him in the darkness. + +With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now +they had reached its termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward +their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and +scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace +had vanished. + +Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers. + +"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes +are plumb cold." + +"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired +Mr. Harkness. + +"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to +tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know." + +"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they +have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor +boy for?" + +"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe +they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long +enough." + +"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the rancher sadly, sitting down +upon an outcropping rock. + +He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his +rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke. + +"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried +off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow +them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable +time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward." + +"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt, +gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol. +Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to +that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off. + +"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason +why we shouldn't go ahead." + +As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though +not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food +supply. + +"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness. + +"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers. + +The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was +suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats +sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the +direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to +see two ponies emerge, carrying three men. + +The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind +the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty, +confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had +expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the +last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO. + + +If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of +Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon +the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to +recover his voice. + +"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?" + +"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness," +spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that +the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange +fate. + +"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness +leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question +will always be productive of strife, more's the pity. Besides, certain +fence-cutting incidents----" + +"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily. + +"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing--without the +proper evidence." + +The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words. + +"What we want from you now, Clark, is information." + +"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone. + +"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch," +explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask +information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob +Blake----" + +"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at +Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew +green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had +come near hitting the nail on the head when he connected them in a +vague way with Rob's disappearance. + +"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly. + +"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you +needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt +angrily. + +"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good. +Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now +is if they have seen Rob?" + +"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost +hereabouts?" + +"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as +you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might +have had the good fortune to escape." + +"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone, +now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him. + +"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly. + +"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we +like." + +"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with +gentlemen's preferences out here in the West." + +"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at +the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark +carried behind him. + +"We did not." + +"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs +for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?" + +"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank. + +"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why +we're carrying the saddle--to put on him when we find him. That, too, +accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?" + +"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with +excitement as he stepped forward. "_Where did you get Rob Blake's +sombrero?_" + +His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily +tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band +about its crown. + +"Why, I--we--that is--it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily. + +"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by +rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You----" + +Crack! + +The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy +quirt and cut him full across the face with it. + +"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get +out of this." + +The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by +the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In +that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with +anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his +forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his +blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm. + +"Not that way, Blinky," he said. + +"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been +a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass." + +"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an +angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop +them!" + +"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone. + +"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the +cow-punchers. + +As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little +rise. + +As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back. + +"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them. + +Bang! + +The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the youth's hand as if some +invisible grasp had been laid upon it. + +Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew +the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had +just punctured Clark's headgear. + +"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help +it." + +"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark +Jennings party vanished in a hurry. + +The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the +rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's +hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians +in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste +of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob +himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences +of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party +made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been left the day +before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range. + +"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr. +Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he +isn't on the top of the earth." + +All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far +from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the +dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable +time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow +for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed +distracted and worried. + +Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some +theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to +the southwest. + +"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there--what is it?" + +The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending +from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset. + +"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval. + +"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose +and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals. + +"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?" + +"Yes. What has that to do with it?" + +"Well, this is Injun code." + +"Indian?" + +"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a +wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now, +if we had their code book we----" + +"What, the Indians have a code book?" + +"You bet." + +"Where?" + +"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the +cow-puncher. + +"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to +another hilltop some distance from the first. + +Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident +answer to the first. + +"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky. +"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out +something about Rob." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY. + + +Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob +would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to +watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the +distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were +stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering +it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's +direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian +smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked +up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once +worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite +an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen. + +"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover." + +Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing +intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of +the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system +in use to-day on our telegraph lines. + +"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes +with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better +to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had +reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded. + +"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly. + +Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread +of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered +and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if +a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled +the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up. + +"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced +Clark finally. + +"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank +Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they +going to send a pony?" + +"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness +hits our trail?" + +"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob," +replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to." + +"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we +are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful." + +"You think he is alive, then?" + +"Must be, unless he melted into thin air." + +"That's so." + +"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period +of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks, +"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's +mavericks?" + +"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to +have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out, +seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be +left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say, +and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big +drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover +that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!" + +In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next +hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring +of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still, +the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping +of some night insect. + +Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the +hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant later +they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the +newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood +before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark +shadows. + +"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into +the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket. + +The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with +customary stealth on the camping place of his allies. + +"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want +talk?" + +"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant," +grinned Hank. + +"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the +chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not +again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in +council with them. + +"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the +rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young +cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them +away we can all be rich--make heap money." + +"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come. + +"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy----" + +"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian. + +"Then you _did_ take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you +have sense enough to keep him?" + +"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with +Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by +adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But +Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption. + +"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the +heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from +the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask. + +"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly. + +The Indian shook his head. + +"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the +mountains seeking us now." + +Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile. + +"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble, +everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle +of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger." + +"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark. + +But the chief shook his head. + +"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle." + +"Then you won't help us?" + +"No." + +"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly +letting his temper get the better of him for an instant. + +The Indian drew himself up with haughty dignity. Slowly he gathered the +folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak. + +"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will +sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and +the next instant he was gone. + +"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank, +as the offended Indian strode off. + +"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill +Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark." + +"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy +note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I +can tell you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That we'll have to do the Indian act again." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail. +We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go." + +As my readers will have seen, the above conversation throws a strange +side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was +patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and +to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of +cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were +to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the +Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late, +discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their +fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan +which they deemed offered every security against discovery. + + * * * * * + +It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard +when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such +velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will +be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy +had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of +where he was bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit, +and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt +his pony halt and stagger beneath him. + +For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be +captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the +lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of +great stress. + +At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged +forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and +seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity +of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as +the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way +among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail. + +While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and +searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his +way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could +hardly keep himself from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin +and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance. + +He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling +himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on +without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings +since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now, +however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came. +Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt +before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering +lassitude assailed him in every limb. + +"Good gracious! am I going to play out?" + +The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay. + +He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and +although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point +of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of +sun-burned wild oats and foxtail. By the height of the sun and its +direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been +traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden +collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he +craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had +never before assailed him. + +"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked +himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully." + +Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the +boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything. +A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy. + +"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way. + +He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to +him, like the accents of another person. + +"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for +a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple +berry. + +But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort +of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having +reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted +creature. + +All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up +erect--the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes. + +Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the +advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least; +for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a +boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake. + +"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy, +as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling +grumbling. + +What can it be? + +"Sounds like--like---- Great Scott! Silver Tip!" + +Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his +sheltering bush, there had suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch +of the Santa Catapinas. + +It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small, +piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was +hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest +part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap," +so to speak. + +The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics +changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely +about--like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The +small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his +dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob +had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target. + +[Illustration: With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed +straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.] + +But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and +exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip +came lumbering into the clearing. The sight of the monster had tipped +the delicately adjusted balance. + +With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his +monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his +immense bulk upward. + +"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob +deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous +hairy tower of rugged strength. + +The great forepaws--armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel +chisels--extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the +monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was +unexpected, occurred. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE INDIAN AGENT. + + +From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly +emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a +striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the +Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he +instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the +extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first +man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone, +attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country. + +"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far +wrong in this surmise. + +But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange +scene, and Jeffries Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination +when the necessity called for immediate action. + +Bang! + +For the twentieth--or was it the hundredth?--time in his eventful life, +Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's +usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it +buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting +a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe. + +As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled +up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground. + +For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas +meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind +as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded +as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning +power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had +doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, charge +furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These +had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight +and run away, and live to fight some other day." + +So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of +human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his +admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held +his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature +unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more +hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become +devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them. + +Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the +plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all +fours and lumbered off. + +"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty +wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the +unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides. + +"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel +shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along +when I did, and---- Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. +"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of +Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery." + +He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill, +piercing call. + +The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the +clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid +eyes fell on his master. + +"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it +had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome +for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun. +We've got to get him home, Ranger." + +Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His +keen senses indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there +is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his +majesty, King Bruin. + +Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid +horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced +apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place +Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly +up behind the cantle. + +Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck, +the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty +skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went +unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him. + +After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located +open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which +might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now, +however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the +bottom bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred +mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the +midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small +cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact, +been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector. +Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his +surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with +an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable. + +So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered +consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of +fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through +holes in which he could see the blue sky. + +"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed +back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed. + +Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he +retraced recent happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his +delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection. + +"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was +Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his +intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and +the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had +happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there, +a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone: + +"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight +grizzlies with his bare hands?" + +Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the +doorway. + +He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch. + +"Why--why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his +companion's kindly, bearded features. + +"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the Indian agent. "And now, if +you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting +along. How does that sound?" + +"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his +appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be +babied this way. I'm going to get up and----" + +"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent. +"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty +head appeared inquiringly in the doorway. + +"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up--grab him!" + +With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend +the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside. + +"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and +haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me, +and---- I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or +if that was just a bluff." + +It was a good evidence of Rob's returning vitality that he stretched +out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness. + +Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and +the whites of his eyes showed menacingly. + +"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob. + +As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the +kind light came back into his eyes. + +"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this +is the first I have ever seen." + +Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger--animals trained to the same +wonderful pitch of intelligence--are not uncommon in the Southwest. +Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more +appetizing than anything he had ever known. + +"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor. + +"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made +table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished half a +dozen more bowls like it--or so he felt--but Mr. Mayberry told him that +after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow." + +So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able +to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite +recovered his faculties. + +"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found +you?" + +Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by +exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent. + +"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a +thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have +frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated +the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most +unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and +fence cutting." + +"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob. + +"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying goes, it is almost impossible +to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from +the East, and his companions?" + +"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our +experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of +our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut." + +"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!" + +"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to +the West." + +Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him +some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding +up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a +detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel +Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The +Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great +Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it +with the troops at the height of the ceremonies. + +"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he +declared. + +"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob. + +"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but +since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be +informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a +settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch." + +Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it +would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest +disappointment and hastened to reassure him. + +"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for +even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return +with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if +possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the +Moquis." + +A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside. + +"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, +springing up, followed by Rob. + +Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was +gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently. +His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance +was one of intense nervousness. + + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that +Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded. + +"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make +him act like that--Indians and bears--and I reckon there are no bears +about right now. + +"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse, +you'll have to carry double, after all." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT. + + +It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and +Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the +big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless +little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr. +Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned, +disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking +search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found +absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had +indeed reached "the end of the rope." + +"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?" + +It was Merritt who spoke. + +"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my boy, that we have used up +every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher. + +"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may +be wandering about in the mountains now." + +"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically. + +"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary +tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech. + +"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we +could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness, +and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the +last flicker of hope has died out." + +"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?" + +"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of +strength he will make his way back." + +"But the tracks of the big bear?" + +"Silver Tip," put in Harry. + +"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined Merritt; "but somehow I +feel that Rob will yet come out all right." + +"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently. + +As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching +party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of +their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger +of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the +huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor +in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the +missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and +many other dangers that he might have to face. + +Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he +had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the +same, Blinky running to the window. + +"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent +for election!" he announced. + +"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness. + +"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky. + +"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt. + +The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned +searchers. + +"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly. + +"How do you know?" + +"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too." + +"Perhaps he has news of the boy." + +"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the +cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's +worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry." + +Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward +the door began. + +They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so +violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said, +the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His +pony's coat was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was +whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost +obliterated by the same substance. + +"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of +faces. + +"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed +the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony. + +The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He +evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces. +Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of +the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony. + +"Has--has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward. + +"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of +an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and +if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him." + +Together the Indian chief and the rancher passed into the living room +of the ranch house, and the door closed on them. + +For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once +more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually +grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The +Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought +round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then, +without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off. + +"He--he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that +instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness. + +"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all +he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you +that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no +longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's +saddle, escaped." + +"Then nobody knows where he is?" + +"That's it." + +Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear +what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the +rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind. + +"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things +are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For +the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A +younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the +tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black +Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked +for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here." + +"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly. + +"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything +to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells +me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite +of that, an attack is to be made on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by +Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and----" + +"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!" +cried Blinky. + +"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive +any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious +after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What +he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself +and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw +the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work +him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me." + +"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt. + +"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty +influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his +tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me +of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front +for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty." + +"But will you?" asked Harry. + +"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means +of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious +predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range, +rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we +to oppose him?" + +"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly. + +"Who?" + +"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not +one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that." + +"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger." + +"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly. + +"Why?" + +"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at +least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do +all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were trailing poor Rob, and +they're made of the right stuff." + +So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far +Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little +doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had +been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact, +we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such +was the case. + +"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt, +when this had been settled. + +"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it, +if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for +soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their +revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he +can." + +"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry. + +"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself +more popular with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance +with all its trimmings." + +"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly. + +"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky. + +"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of +his favorite topic. + +"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they +throw into a red-hot pit of coals." + +"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly. + +"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white +men that ever saw one and got out alive." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their +fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death." + +"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did," +muttered Tubby. + +At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness +hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled, +and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other +end. + +"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about. + +Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear. + +"He's---- Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat +some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to +Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death." + +"How far is Red Flat from here?" + +"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse." + +"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?" + +"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the +Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in +expostulation. + +"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim. +"You are mad to attempt it!" + +"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's duty to place his head in +a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you----" + +"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind +him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what +he is about to do." + +"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry. + +"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '_reason_' with the +Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock, +a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't +reason with an Indian." + +"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL. + + +Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive +intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been +able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they +were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady +eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed +the trail without any misgivings. + +The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the +uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that +reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the +hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well +that he did so, as we shall see. + +Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out than a dozen dusky forms +slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about. +Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of +everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were, +then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took +the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of +the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians, +with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some +little distance from the shanty. + +All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily +forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent +had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks. +Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their +presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry +on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered +to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is +true, but he determined to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than +expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than +needful. + +It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement +with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the +outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day +trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the +store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its +owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they +could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur +before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the +blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch. + +He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper, +drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some +sheep, which had kept him away till that time. + +"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What +brings you here? Come to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those +'babies' of yours?" + +"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben, +I'd like to telephone." + +"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as +he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head +off." + +Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's +astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he +had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the +soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake +dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis." + +Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control +of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red +men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been +able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the +tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous Diamond Snake, who was as +ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance, +and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still +kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail. +Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable, +and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even +spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was +behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the +veteran. + +In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder +Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided +for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the +good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no +one knew what would happen. + +This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The +ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their +ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the +traditions of the Moquis. A similar situation has often prevailed in +the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red +man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will +of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance +to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish. + +So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had +stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it, +had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not +unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy. + +No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode +slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile +played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole +countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him, +would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a +pleasant mood. + +In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind +to have passed the crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be +at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the +valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain, +things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their +reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless +decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence +was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He +regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and +reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin +veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men +had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character +was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly +destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were +called upon to bear. + +The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so +in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly swerved so +violently from the trail as almost to unseat him. + +"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's +neck. "What is it?" + +Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a +dead stop. + +"Why, Ranger, I----" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells, +several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their +soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted +with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent +from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of +the maddened Ranger. + +His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the +previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement. + +The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog +into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf. +In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them +into a ferocity of mind which had speedily wiped off the varnish +civilization had applied so painstakingly. + +While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed +himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the +plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and +fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with +a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his +iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled +him over in the road beside his master. + +The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again. +Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over +the back of one of their ponies. + +Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound +that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back +of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive +chest showed that he still lived. + +Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, including the one who had +been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief, +however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found +himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider +as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's +steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by +Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and +ears wickedly set back. + +With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up +the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's +rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression +of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot +master. + +Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be +inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind. +And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and +sometimes striking off through the trackless wild. Never once did the +redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten +track. + +Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic +whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the +back of the Indian pony that bore him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE MAVERICK RAID. + + +"Hark!" + +Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd, +a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like +the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the +Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered +rise. + +It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red +Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with--well, +let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his +chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances, +and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead. +Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could be +released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including +confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil +companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention +was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy. + +A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts, +Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They +reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly +shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves +were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute +his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding +bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own +leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the +guardianship of the Boy Scouts. + +"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the +signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession. +Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have to. Concentrate +your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once +succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good +as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them +till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open +market." + +"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob. + +"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all +the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in +jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to +carry on their nefarious work." + +For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which +brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily +over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they +cropped the half-dry grass. + +Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger +Patrol, and the boys, composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind +their shelter. + +Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the +herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air +for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the +boys as the young steer gave its alarm. + +Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked +restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to +and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric +storms of the Southwest breaks over them. + +"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob. + +"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position +alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side. + +"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!" + +"I don't hear anything," said Merritt. + +"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north." + +"You mean that sort of trampling sound?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt. + +"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're +coming this way." + +The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in +volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs +approaching at a smart gallop. + +"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle. + +"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach," +commented Harry. + +"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at +most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they +suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off." + +"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt. + +Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift +uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to +advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high +rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word. + +"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head." + +Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to +gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds. + +"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young +leader had slipped his revolver from its holster. + +"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans +are before giving the alarm." + +"All right. But don't let them give us the slip." + +"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master +Clark Jennings and Company myself." + +Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop." + +"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!" + +Bang! Bang! + +Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the +same instant. + +But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his +anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had +allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle, +thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash +Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back. + +Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud +cheer as they swept forward behind their leader. + +Bang! Bang! + +It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it +sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample +room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard +Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward. + +Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before +the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians. + +"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the +illusion that they were Indians. + +"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our +eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered +with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was +Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts. + +"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward. +"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can." + +With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol +was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a +lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the +rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval. + +The consternation created in the ranks of Clark Jennings's raiders by +the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined. + +"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers +here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle, +which were now loping fast toward the mountains. + +"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?" + +"That's what they've got. Hark at that!" + +A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders, +and this time it sounded closer. + +"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got +to get to the mountains before they close on us." + +A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the +cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened +animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the +constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on +swept the mad advance. + +"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted +Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts. + +"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons. + +"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting." + +Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed +over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This +fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and +permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so +close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed +Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers. + +In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact +that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in +Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range. + +Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of the raiders' revolvers, and +a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear. + +"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly. + +The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a +raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body +was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to +aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman. + +"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly. + +"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his +rider out of the race." + +Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came +another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount +collapse under him. + +He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the +pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one +side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one +of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and +cheering, the chase swept on. + +"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them, +though. I'd like----" + +"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!" + +The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the +blue. + +Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and +down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his +head. + +"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a +vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode +round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in +front of the boy. + +Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's +head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He +was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE. + + +"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered +Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to +you, Rob Blake." + +"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of +your conversation." + +"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle +menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here." + +"But you daren't use it." + +"Don't be too sure." + +"Well, what do you want to do with me?" + +"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto--see? Now march." + +"Which way?" + +"Toward the mountains." + +"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and began to march off, but +already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity +suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his +pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white +skull--the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a +wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he +was. + +Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a +flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down, +grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle +of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast. + +"Drop that rifle, Clark!" + +The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do +him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead +raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging +sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily +contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open. +As Clark's bullet penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the +light trigger. + +Bang! + +The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a +frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as +Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the +pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew +out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was +only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off. + +"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on +one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances +and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a +revolver concealed about him. + +"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr. +Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth." + +At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south. +It was the belated band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness, +sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase. + +"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob. + +"Who is it?" came back the hail. + +"Rob Blake. I want to see you." + +"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is +something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings." + +"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully. + +"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!" +growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr. +Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and +his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the +leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground, +nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat. + +"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider. +"Here, Blinky, just take a few turns round this fellow with a rope. +Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll +take no chance with so slippery a customer." + +The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene. +Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder. + +"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried. + +"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything," +protested Rob. + +"What, he fired at you?" + +"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!" + +An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh +wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to +keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's +pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed +cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings. + +"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe +something's happening up ahead." + +Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air. + +Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out. + +"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward. + +Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels. + +It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed. +Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their +ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched +rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations. + +Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices +and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different +lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half +off, giving a grotesque appearance to them. + +The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft, +Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them would say +a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the +cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed +mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting +them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders +no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped +off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their +escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped +lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the +bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or +more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general +inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling +discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found. + +"Who saw him last?" asked Rob. + +"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian." + +"Any one see him since?" + +No, nobody had. + +At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off +in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To +the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound +up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide. + +"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob. + +"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a +prisoner of war." + +"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt. + +"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled +prisoner. + +Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the +fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His +attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as +Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive. + +It was Jack Curtiss! + +Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been +persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the +former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would +outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had +taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion. +Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little +knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony +stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his +rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command: + +"Shut up!" + +As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a +fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts. +Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the +rest. + +"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt, +clapping the fat boy on the back. + +"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby, +grandiloquently strutting about. + +"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed +Harry Harkness. + +"Just the same--just the same," rejoined Tubby. + +A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it +was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party. + +"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider +drew rein almost at his feet. + +"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt. + +"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely. + +But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and +spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great +excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the +interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man. + +"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to +the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered. + +"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob. + +"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black +Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp." + +"Is he in danger?" + +"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such +is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me." + +A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man +Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness, +listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's +predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers +remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well +knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly +forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake +dance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE. + + +About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed +a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming +torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare +of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep +depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake +dancers. + +In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so +rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced +Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the +frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes +glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above +the fire. + +All at once a low chant arose from the line. Its regular rhythm and +booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily +it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the +hills were intoning it. + +As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time +the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated, +which stood behind them. + +Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows +grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one +of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous +ornament--a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler! + +The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed +to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously +than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had +reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was +harmless to him. + +As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism +changed as if by magic. The excitement of the dance was upon them. +Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls. + +A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the +onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout, +standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of +his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit. +Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the +weird ritual. + +Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its +wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder, +or desert rattlesnake--a distinct species from the big diamond-back--and +even more deadly. + +Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped +head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it +forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing. + +[Illustration: Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking +desert rattlesnake.] + +This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians. +One after another the young braves cast off their blankets and rushed +forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The +ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp +reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the +odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads. + +In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved +countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some +distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was +half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did +he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand +and foot to a post. + +His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear, +for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back +of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry--for our readers +must have already recognized the Indian agent--never knew less fear than +he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous +tribe, rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of +cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the +rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful +than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed +one in that rocky bowl. + +But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled +with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost +similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had +made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation, +but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full +control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the +only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed +powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been +able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger +to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a +voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his mind was busy with intense +speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it +was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian +recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and +what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had +ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his +presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of +many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what +Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently +see. + +Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had +arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new +moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand. + +Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and +began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries +Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished +bronze in the glare of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence +this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His +talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned +and fervid to the last degree. + +Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent +managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that, +as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address. + +Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been +dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on +him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt +one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant. + +"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought +to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals, +they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!" + +Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words. + +"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice +went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned +Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's +horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst." + +He turned his head--the only portion of his body which was free to +move--and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For +hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but +now he had grown quiet. + +"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry. +Which goes to show--in the light of what was to come--that a man can get +"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him. + +Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in +his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in +the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His +whole attitude spoke dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the +horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken. + +All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the +young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at +last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors +who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the +Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at +them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly +rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free. + +Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that +moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with +him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit! +Could they mean to thrust him into that? + +Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round +to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated +Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed. + +"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into +speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!" + +If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without +him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to +find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It +should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the +Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr. +Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They _might_ come, but it would be too +late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very +much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul. +He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint. + +"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having +led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him +close to the edge of the pit, which now lay between him and the crowd +of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the +glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger +still occupied his same position. + +Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate +was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the +inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution. + +His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was +forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting +began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the +biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest +rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,--an immense creature of +the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long. + +As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's +dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE. + + +Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the +young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast +the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian +agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or +otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians +gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle. + +It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a +bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate +effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he +realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he +resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to +become endowed with furious rage. It lashed its mottled tail, and then +carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the +death strike. + +Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red +glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and +the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to +give greater force to its death blow. + +The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his +a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense +that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a +fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his +courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry. + +It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense +excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act +that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene. + +Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse. +So far as any one knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend +in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish +his horse near him in the hour of his doom. + +For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy +matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the +fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set +Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his +former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that +he was free. + +The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his +master's voice. + +While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks, +four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger +alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries +of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled +over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken +ribs. Another's arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck. + +Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach +Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill +whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red +men, to the very brink of the fiery pit. + +Overcoming his natural dread of fire--a far greater terror to horses +than almost any other--Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty +leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and +his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time +allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the +opposite side of the pit. + +They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid +glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like +a thunderbolt. + +Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs. +With a yell of superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way. +Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an +infernal messenger among them. + +But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one +terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs +of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled +backward. + +Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every +muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his +doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus. + +He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over +backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had +fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and +nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui. + +At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by +the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a +steel spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the +poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head +to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a +second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse +whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with +impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in +his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted. + +With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis, +gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the +tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the +fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old +Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the +rocky bowl. + +"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above +the tumult. + +A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a +single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same +pit as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond +Snake, was their raging desire. + +"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the +rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl. + +As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a +perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a +solitary horseman. + +A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came +to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he +had appeared. + +"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed +on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the +white man's vengeance!" + +As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the +rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had +felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning, +had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his +safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his +ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big +bowlder he watched the events that were to follow. + +A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being +the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing +himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to +swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage, +Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly +wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse +plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling +over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted +but a minute. + +A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell, +still fighting, by his master's side. + +At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted +"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury it in +the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing +out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end +of the rock bowl. + +Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were +attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of +the murderous young brave's hand. + +"Hooray!" + +The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake +swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if +their throats would split. + +Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too +terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance. +A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were +drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr. +Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had +been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band +at the lower end of the bowl. + +Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and +cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when +he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces. + +"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say +it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd +never have saved you." + +"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the +place to tell you all how I feel. But, but----" + +His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground. +Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries. + +"Is Ranger seriously hurt?" + +The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the +question. + +"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on +the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though." + +And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he +carried with him to his last days the marks of that night. But his +owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish +spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility. + +"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that +fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner. + +A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment. + +"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing +upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr. +Harkness. + +"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have +come too late." + +"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent +to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two +ago. They must have ridden like the wind." + +Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky +basin, their steaming, dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace +they had kept up. + +"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the +young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged. +"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well." + +"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness. + +"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the +soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the +future." + +"We hope so," said Rob simply. + + * * * * * + +Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the +range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went +peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as +their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was +paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time +Mr. Mayberry recovered some of his faith in the Indian character, but +even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken. + +Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted +to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments +are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender +neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that +you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered. + +If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is +regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her +fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and +blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's +beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a +mystery to the tribe. + +Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for +their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In +a Western community few more serious crimes, for obvious reasons, can +be committed than cattle stealing. + +The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones +for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob +had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now +one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A. + +Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the +mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and +proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has +become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona. + +What became of Silver Tip? + +Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge +brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at +length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the +boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face +to face. + +Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can tell? Animals possess many +faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may, +it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven +look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone +upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the +position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter. +Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at +his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon +again. + +"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your +wicked old life." + +Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've +been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now +I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into +one." + +One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces +to be drawn. It announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton +Academy. + +And so--as all good things have to draw to a close--the happy, eventful +days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the +exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in +their adventurous lives. + +We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more +stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of +these will be connected with the wonderful new science of ærial +navigation. + +This new installment of their adventures will be called: THE BOY +SCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP. + + +THE END. + + + + +=Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications= + +_A postal to us will place it in your hands._ + + +1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best +standard books published, at prices less than offered by others. + +2. You will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: Poetry, +Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion, +Biography, Drama, etc., besides Dictionaries and Manuals, Bibles, +Recitation and Hand Books, Sets, Octavos, Presentation Books and +Juvenile and Nursery Literature in immense variety. + +3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as +low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in +cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit +the tastes of the most critical. + +4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our +SPECIAL DISCOUNTS, which we offer to those whose purchases are +large enough to warrant us in making a reduction. + +HURST & CO., _Publishers_, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York. + + + + +BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BY + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume. + + +=The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.= + +A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become +part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with +this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys +of all ages and in all parts of the country. + +While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting +adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his +companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous +things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of +most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome +every one of their dangers and difficulties. + +How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the +patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their +disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil +a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the +book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and +breathless incident. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BY + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound, Price 50¢ per volume. + + +=The Boy Scouts on the Range.= + +Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was +a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts? +The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle +thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in +grave difficulties. + +There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other +tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast +vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books +hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among +the Moquis. + +Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim +figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant +grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as +gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The +boy is weaponless and,--but it would not be fair to divulge the +termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and +place upon their shelves to be read and re-read. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +Bungalow Boys Series + +BY + +DEXTER J. FORRESTER + +NEW MODERN STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE. + +Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume. + + +=THE BUNGALOW BOYS.= + +The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of +Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the +big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in +these volumes. + +The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the +region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor, +turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies +even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable +neighbors in more senses than one. + +For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys' +quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil +companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever +manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave +difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is +imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily +drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally +proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for +a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the +book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK. + + + + +Dreadnought Boys Series + +BY + +Capt. WILBUR LAWTON. + +=Modern Stories of the New Navy.= + +Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume. + + +=The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.= + +How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime +town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their +anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you +would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their +country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those +steel walls? + +There are no books published which will tell you more of the new +navy,--of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries +and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of +the naval seaman's life, than these volumes. + +In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong +and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they +have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his +fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set +themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and +fast. At target practice Herc--by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a +living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret +of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their +longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books +for real boys. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK. + + + + +Motor Rangers Series + +By MARVIN WEST + +OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES FOR MODERN BOYS + +Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume. + + +=The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.= + +A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile +fiction,--the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters +in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and +mysterious land of Lower California. + +Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which +proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,--occupies much of the +interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so +powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost +to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading. + +In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the +haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of +the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula. + +The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys, +which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination +for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +The Oakdale Series + +By Morgan Scott + +HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60¢ a Volume + + +=Ben Stone at Oakdale= + +BY MORGAN SCOTT + +12MO., CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. PRICE 60¢ + +Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this +class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the +Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers +market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in +price, can these be designated as cheap books; in manufacture, in +literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of +the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters +of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of +school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a +spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find +it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of +the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy +misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all; +and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the +seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy. + +FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD, OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60¢ +BY + +HURST & COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK + + + + +The Oakdale Series + +By Morgan Scott + + +High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys + +Cloth Bound + +Illustrated + +Price, 60 cents a Volume + + +=Boys of Oakdale Academy= + +by Morgan Scott + +12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60¢ + +This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter +sports--snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such--are features. In +the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and +attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads, +who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and +talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing +and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent +sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually, +through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow +from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective +manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village. +This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes; +it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is +as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure. + +For sale wherever books are sold, or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60¢ +by +Hurst & Co., 395 Broadway, New York + + + + +----------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | + | original document have been preserved. | + | | + | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | + | | + | Page 26 Samuri changed to Samurai | + | Page 89 struck changed to stuck | + | Page 113 Charlie changed to Charley | + | Page 151 croked changed to croaked | + | Page 206 Jenning's changed to Jennings's | + | Page 226 earthern changed to earthen | + | Page 243 fandangoes changed to fandangos | + | Page 297 safeest changed to safest | + +----------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by +Lieut. 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Howard Payson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range + +Author: Lieut. Howard Payson + +Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1> THE<br /> + <span class="smcap">Boy Scouts On + The Range</span></h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4> BY</h4> + +<h2>LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4> NEW YORK<br /> + HURST & COMPANY<br /> + PUBLISHERS</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>Copyright, 1911,<br /> +BY<br /> +HURST & COMPANY<br /> +</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl" width="12%" style="font-size: 80%;">CHAPTER</td> + <td class="tdl" width="78%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="10%" style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">I.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Rob Surprises a Cow-puncher</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">II.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">News of the Moquis</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">III.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Desert Water Hole</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Silver Tip Appears</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">V.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">At the Harkness Ranch</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">A Boy Scout "Broncho Buster"</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Stampede at the Far Pasture</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Hemmed in by the Herd</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">IX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Home of a Vanished Race</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">X.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Ghost of the Cave Dwelling</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Captured by Moquis</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Tubby's Peril</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">A Friend in Need</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">A Toboggan to Disaster</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">What Became of the Scout?</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Blinky Spoils a Sombrero</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XVII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">In the Clutches of the Grizzly</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Indian Agent</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XIX.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Black Cloud's Visit</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Watchers of the Trail</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XXI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Maverick Raid</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XXII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Clark Jennings Gets a Surprise</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">The Worshippers of the Snake</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrp">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap">Boy Scouts to the Rescue</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h1>The Boy Scouts on the Range.</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h2>ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy +arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills +clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten +solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines—the +branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into +the white solitudes of the dry country.</p> + +<p>Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns, +overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place +of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>"great sandy." +These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the +deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn +by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,—which has been not inaptly +compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it—makes its slow way.</p> + +<p>Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range +of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges—after much bumping through +scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry +arroyos—at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San +Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little +desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and +mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud—the Santa Catapina Range.</p> + +<p>The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants +of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before +referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward +cars there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive +settlement.</p> + +<p>The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends +addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the +Eagle Patrol—the first volume of this series—have met before. His +companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the +rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island, +from which village all three, in fact, came.</p> + +<p>"Well, here we are at Mesaville."</p> + +<p>Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings +opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him. +Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several +figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on +the rail, as the train rolled in.</p> + +<p>As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage +exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed +from the porch-rails as if by machinery, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>and their several owners bent +forward in a frank stare at the newcomers.</p> + +<p>"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt +mischievously.</p> + +<p>"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as +the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter.</p> + +<p>The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was +clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness—at whose invitation they had +come to this part of the country—had advised them to buy. But as they +still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their +generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel +Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of +the latter.</p> + +<p>Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that +book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I., +and how it had been effected. How the boys of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>the patrol had many +opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably +was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys' +enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable +old town character, were implicated.</p> + +<p>It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their +home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a +stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his +son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London, +whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for +their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness +invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What +adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time +it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept +it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended, +resumed its school term early in the fall.</p> + +<p>Just at this time, however, something happened <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>which was very welcome +to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the +foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be +unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It +was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had +come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the +boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day +on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of +their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip.</p> + +<p>Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's +son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and +rolled out again without his putting in an appearance.</p> + +<p>"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby, +pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro +River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle +of mud-colored <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The +boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it.</p> + +<p>"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more +than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till +to-morrow morning, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel +and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and +plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the +dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of +Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel.</p> + +<p>"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on +which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it, +too."</p> + +<p>"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob.</p> + +<p>"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was +made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>He +had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're +waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over."</p> + +<p>Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums +entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which +floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an +investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned. +It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as +if he was enjoying it.</p> + +<p>On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and +Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the +flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows +in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching +the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their +somewhat personal remarks.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>when he grows up," +grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their +seats.</p> + +<p>"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to +eat his soup.</p> + +<p>A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense, +either.</p> + +<p>The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened, +and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot."</p> + +<p>"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came +in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of +sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for +heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated +in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration +in the same inconspicuous place.</p> + +<p>As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught +against Tubby's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration.</p> + +<p>"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young +cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?"</p> + +<p>"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I +reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness +to the table's approval of this primitive humor.</p> + +<p>Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up +trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers +were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering +went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese +attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and +left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were +shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who +found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their +meal, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought +him.</p> + +<p>It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two +sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately +trying to aggravate them.</p> + +<p>Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in +their remarks.</p> + +<p>"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the +boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the +condensed milk can.</p> + +<p>"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys."</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark."</p> + +<p>"What, Jess?"</p> + +<p>"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East."</p> + +<p>"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?"</p> + +<p>The youth addressed by his companion as Jess <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>looked straight at Rob as +he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly +deserted him with a rush.</p> + +<p>"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They +grow-and-they-grow-right."</p> + +<p>Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes +opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane +signal foretells a storm.</p> + +<p>"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin, +"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see +to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take +their bibs off."</p> + +<p>They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly +cool as ice, stopped them.</p> + +<p>"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?"</p> + +<p>"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air +of self-importance.</p> + +<p>"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly +brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>"How's that?"</p> + +<p>"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever +told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not +natural, and certainly not the other thing."</p> + +<p>Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the +fresh kid," but his companion drew him away.</p> + +<p>"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he +said, as they left the room.</p> + +<p>As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two +discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it."</p> + +<p>The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came +forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with +a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored +mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone.</p> + +<p>"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the +toughest boys in the country."</p> + +<p>"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his +sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please."</p> + +<p>He extended a yellow palm.</p> + +<p>"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Three dollars and six bits."</p> + +<p>"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?"</p> + +<p>"That's the charge, stranger."</p> + +<p>Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange +for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions +of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together +with three cups of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of +curiosity gripped him.</p> + +<p>"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He +seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears.</p> + +<p>"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that +settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault, +is it?"</p> + +<p>There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to +the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There +was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing +across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big +rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in +the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by +the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy +lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>proclaimed that he was off, and +Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when +there came a sudden interruption.</p> + +<p>Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory +voice addressed him:</p> + +<p>"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out."</p> + +<p>The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him, +with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell.</p> + +<p>"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like +a gentleman,—then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"I hope I am one, yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going +to give me that chair?"</p> + +<p>"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here +till I get ready to get up."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>"Then I'll have to help you out——Ouch!"</p> + +<p>The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had +bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from +the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed +from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of +fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled +backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of +the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation +recorded.</p> + +<p>"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord +from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy +book the extortion practiced on the boys.</p> + +<p>Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and +Merritt began to realize what was happening.</p> + +<p>His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then +reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart +forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the +weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the +middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the +excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his +back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of +constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched +fists.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h2>NEWS OF THE MOQUIS.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a +resounding thwack.</p> + +<p>Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his +friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden +detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure.</p> + +<p>"Hold on there. We want fair play."</p> + +<p>It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his +belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had +altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two +young cow-punchers.</p> + +<p>"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>said Rob, a grim look +creeping over his usually pleasant face.</p> + +<p>A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher, +one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion," +grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing +Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less +melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here."</p> + +<p>"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to +fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that +fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's +belt.</p> + +<p>But there was no need of the warning. Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>had seen the blow coming +halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul +tactics thoroughly enraged him.</p> + +<p>"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the +astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark +could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive.</p> + +<p>Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just +how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air. +His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor. +Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he +reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same +instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go.</p> + +<p>Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher +followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob +yelled triumphantly:</p> + +<p>"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given +you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed +chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great +physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had +seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the +Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had +just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor, who +in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But to the +cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat had been +little short of marvelous.</p> + +<p>They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and +this time he remained in undisputed possession of it.</p> + +<p>"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group.</p> + +<p>Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young +cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached +Rob.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar +contraption?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about +the corners of his lips.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The +assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure, +however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark +Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and +stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face +as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly:</p> + +<p>"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark.</p> + +<p>"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on +his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?"</p> + +<p>"Help you out—how?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted +in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning."</p> + +<p>"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to +get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted +Jess.</p> + +<p>"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings +promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral.</p> + +<p>Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a +sudden swirl of dust.</p> + +<p>"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the +first to notice the approaching column of dust.</p> + +<p>"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you +was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>a bear-cat of a team in to +kick up all that smother."</p> + +<p>Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow +swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind +them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high +seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron +foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up +river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the +brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon, +with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels +thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm +water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank +nearest the hotel.</p> + +<p>"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as +the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long +whip three or four times round his head <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>and concluded the flourish with +a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot.</p> + +<p>An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating +mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the +single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his +lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet.</p> + +<p>"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets," +laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and +Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in +order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled +up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove; +"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are +out, and——"</p> + +<p>"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>Moquis' reservation is off +a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but——"</p> + +<p>"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge.</p> + +<p>"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher, +who had been an interested listener.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in +town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas +which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and +although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the +reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and +hold a snake dance."</p> + +<p>"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things +with rattlesnakes, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no white man has ever seen them—or, if he has, never lived to +tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they +do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when +we woke this morning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>there were only six. Jose, there—hey, Jose, wake +up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the +end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and +found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp."</p> + +<p>"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found +unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the +night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo, +meaning to come back for them."</p> + +<p>"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?"</p> + +<p>A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He +nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the +spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the +faithful Jess Randell.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas +seems to be in to-day—you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>their +little call just this side of the Salt Licks,—why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way +to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like +to know whar to expect the varmints."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but +what have you been doing to your eye?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went +up.</p> + +<p>"What's all the joke,—what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained, +and the young rancher burst into a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark +Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!"</p> + +<p>"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a +twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your +neighbor, too, for a while."</p> + +<p>"How's that?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin, +an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and +think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have +a bad name."</p> + +<p>As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard +journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend +the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next +morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by +dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last +time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island +coast. How differently were they now situated!</p> + +<p>After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while +Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite +occupation—namely, taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about +the little town a while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as +Mesaville was in common with most towns of the same character, it +boasted several low dens in which the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen +gambled and drank their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as +usual, there came the same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as +their swing doors opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their +blazing interiors to the quiet, moonlit desert outside.</p> + +<p>As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the +doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings +and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a +tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell +simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away.</p> + +<p>"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is +now."</p> + +<p>The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get +even with him."</p> + +<p>"We can trust you, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"I'll fix him, never fear."</p> + +<p>"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>ride into town ag'in in a +few days and fix you up."</p> + +<p>"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned +out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered +young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he +spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.)</p> + +<p>After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the +clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the +distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his +crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry +and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby +snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his +aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the +railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>the moonlit water. Where the +bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro +collected and formed quite a deep pool.</p> + +<p>"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when +suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned +quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him. +Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep +embankment.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h2>THE DESERT WATER HOLE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary +impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out +behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge +abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle +fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured. +He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry +ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for +the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the +one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try +as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt +finally, he made his way back to the hotel.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout +leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions. +Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told, +but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it +remained as blank a puzzle as ever.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but +these"—wringing out his wet clothes—"won't let me."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally," +decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a +thing?"</p> + +<p>"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with +this afternoon," suggested Merritt.</p> + +<p>"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob +could have been shoved over," said Harry.</p> + +<p>"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest +way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he +would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it +before.</p> + +<p>Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed, +Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their +room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as +his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however. +His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned +till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was +dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as +is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could +easily hear every movement made by their neighbors.</p> + +<p>"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation +that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The +kid is one of that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton."</p> + +<p>"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him +a good crack on the head while you were about it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that +bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender +and Handcraft, will attend to them."</p> + +<p>Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one +of the voices,—that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the +bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however, +except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively +the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes, +enjoined him to silence.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy +voice.</p> + +<p>"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>"What!"</p> + +<p>"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the +bank of the river."</p> + +<p>"Whatever can he be doing out here?"</p> + +<p>"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before +we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father +would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks. +Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming."</p> + +<p>"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same +cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their +conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?"</p> + +<p>"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in +the mountains—where we are going, I gathered."</p> + +<p>"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to have Jack arrested?"</p> + +<p>"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a +conversation <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard +sounded so familiar."</p> + +<p>Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from +Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed +to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in +debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising.</p> + +<p>"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion.</p> + +<p>The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night. +He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of +Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first +volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful +of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early +day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed, +they forgot all about Jack and his threats <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>in the bustle of preparation +for their long trip across the waste lands.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the +corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the +mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile, +and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged.</p> + +<p>"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long, +thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap.</p> + +<p>"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold +of one leg, and I'll take the other."</p> + +<p>Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose, +expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry.</p> + +<p>"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a +row of white teeth.</p> + +<p>"We don't need telling that. You are always <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>asleep, except when you're +eating. Get busy now and hitch up."</p> + +<p>Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes +had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have +been suspected in such an easy-going individual.</p> + +<p>The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line +which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys, +but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only +a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others +follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left, +instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings +the team.</p> + +<p>The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the +first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud +cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to +the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>misadventure +of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad +circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas, +blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon.</p> + +<p>Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons +in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were +Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before. +They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances.</p> + +<p>"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the +daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained +fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed +gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the +vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his +yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were +loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat.</p> + +<p>"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>the wagon started off, the +long whip cracking like a gatling gun.</p> + +<p>All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an +occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen. +As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange +sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above +the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange +phenomena of the desert always are.</p> + +<p>As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue, +began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and +rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills +were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense +masses of shadow, marking cañons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking +range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast +there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several +ranges of cattle roamed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which +grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was +at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose, +at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip +in the foothills.</p> + +<p>"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy +Mexican saunter off.</p> + +<p>"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility +that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so +ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh.</p> + +<p>"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from +under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to +that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full."</p> + +<p>"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place +in one hand," commented the fat boy.</p> + +<p>"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>you'll take digging for +water as a matter of course."</p> + +<p>"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently, +picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt +followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their +noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and +awaited the return of the boys.</p> + +<p>The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the +dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground.</p> + +<p>"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Looks like it," agreed Rob.</p> + +<p>But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber. +Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began +tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and +rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew +some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>performance and arose +with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously.</p> + +<p>"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious +Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast +did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been +made in the soft ground.</p> + +<p>"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly.</p> + +<p>Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly +shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!"</p> + +<p>"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with +withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the +stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are."</p> + +<p>"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly.</p> + +<p>"I will."</p> + +<p>Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly +away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his +efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this +time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods +with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this +accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash.</p> + +<p>Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the +pool.</p> + +<p>"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his +mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me."</p> + +<p>"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather +crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed +interpreter.</p> + +<p>"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost +brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by +reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for +bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and +return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water +cleared.</p> + +<p>"Pretty soon him like glass," he said.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was +nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it, +the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a +yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up.</p> + +<p>But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from +Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so, +for outlined against the sky was a startling figure.</p> + +<p>It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>draped in a blanket of +gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an +instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and +then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim +of the depression.</p> + +<p>"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had +appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might +have been a delusion.</p> + +<p>"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and +fearful all of a sudden.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a +cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had +come.</p> + +<p>The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures, +the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by +magic.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h2>SILVER TIP APPEARS.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were +surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever +known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle +of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have +defended themselves.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by +his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party.</p> + +<p>"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more +boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's +tone.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"White boys got money?"</p> + +<p>"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob.</p> + +<p>"We want um."</p> + +<p>It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread +over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money +in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet +and some small change in his pockets.</p> + +<p>"Say, what is this—Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having +solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout +youth and extended his dirty palm.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as +the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief +What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you."</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>understand this, or it might +have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next, +and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver +coins.</p> + +<p>"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he +dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged +up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined +him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid +pace.</p> + +<p>"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home +we'd call them noble panhandlers."</p> + +<p>"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was +still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money.</p> + +<p>"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from +across the border.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on +a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the +steep side of the water hole. He picked it up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>and opened its folds +carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy +stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book."</p> + +<p>"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some +writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to +yesterday is in this."</p> + +<p>"What, Clark Jennings?"</p> + +<p>"The same. Listen!"</p> + +<p>From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows:</p> + +<p>"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't +see the connection, quite."</p> + +<p>"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if +they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew +they were somewhere hereabouts—you remember he asked Harry about them +yesterday. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them +and bribe them to hold us up."</p> + +<p>"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and +are comparatively well educated."</p> + +<p>"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising +scholars."</p> + +<p>There came a sudden shout from above.</p> + +<p>"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone +almost an hour."</p> + +<p>Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited +boys.</p> + +<p>"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our +change has gone, too."</p> + +<p>When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the +situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to +be done.</p> + +<p>"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said; +"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>have more money about us and come back after it."</p> + +<p>A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket +of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who +had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the +Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a +sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly +appeared and hailed the boys.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his +sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look +of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt +that here was a man of action and character.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the +mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano."</p> + +<p>"What! you have been robbed by them?"</p> + +<p>"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets.</p> + +<p>"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian +agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up +without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold +of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are +really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor."</p> + +<p>"Or money," put in Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas. +Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the +renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the +dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I +must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>be getting on, and thank you for your information."</p> + +<p>With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his +horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he +seems the right sort of a chap."</p> + +<p>"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon +moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis +have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all +ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in +the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those +fellows."</p> + +<p>"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get +after that bunch of redskins."</p> + +<p>"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"Why not what?"</p> + +<p>"Why not form a patrol out here? You know <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>we talked about it in the +East in the brief time we had together."</p> + +<p>"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob.</p> + +<p>"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked +Tubby solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt.</p> + +<p>"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a +fine scout."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get +enough fellows out here to form a patrol?"</p> + +<p>"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted +division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis."</p> + +<p>"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be +splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me, +Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>boys, and +get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at +that rate."</p> + +<p>"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby.</p> + +<p>"That goes without saying," laughed Rob.</p> + +<p>As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and +rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan.</p> + +<p>The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a +deep cañon, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees +and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped +through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once +Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands" +of rock.</p> + +<p>"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there."</p> + +<p>"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something" +uppermost in every mind.</p> + +<p>"Indians?" gasped Tubby.</p> + +<p>"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal—a huge beast, it +seemed to be."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and +every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect +yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised +the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly +against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception +of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black.</p> + +<p>"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his +rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon.</p> + +<p>As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of +apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The +next instant he was gone.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h2>AT THE HARKNESS RANCH.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest +crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us +about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as +a pony."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every +hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of +them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and +the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but +some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?"</p> + +<p>"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with +silver bullet."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted +too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But +in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will +come."</p> + +<p>"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his +day—I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger."</p> + +<p>"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry.</p> + +<p>Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading +from the cañon into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them +suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds, +dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big +cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a +long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it.</p> + +<p>"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an +admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short +time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging +contrivance <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed +the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without +obliging them to dismount.</p> + +<p>Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and +rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted +cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the +grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a +railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and +squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys +recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in +a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features.</p> + +<p>"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch."</p> + +<p>The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to +greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>deck of a +stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals.</p> + +<p>After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr. +Harkness inquired what had delayed them.</p> + +<p>"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and +they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up."</p> + +<p>The face of the rancher grew graver.</p> + +<p>In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of +the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and +the subsequent events.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said +soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the +foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on +them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we +met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them."</p> + +<p>"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he +was the best Indian agent you ever knew."</p> + +<p>"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade +rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning +desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those +trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in, +boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty."</p> + +<p>Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there +had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the +Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls +were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all +about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and +walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now +filled with fresh green boughs.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the +boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle."</p> + +<p>"The collection is only lacking in one thing—a single item," commented +Rob.</p> + +<p>"Which is——"</p> + +<p>"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly."</p> + +<p>"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the +time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the +conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely.</p> + +<p>Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come +out.</p> + +<p>"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year," +commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's +an additional peril to the cattle."</p> + +<p>"How is that?" inquired Rob.</p> + +<p>"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue +grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do +with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is +formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of +steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in +another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have +seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush. +The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to +start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about."</p> + +<p>Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to +further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob +determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that +inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned. +Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of +the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on +it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to +give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled.</p> + +<p>The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the +proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten +o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they +were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three +small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room.</p> + +<p>Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a +clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house +at full speed.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice.</p> + +<p>"It's me—Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the +horseman who had just arrived.</p> + +<p>"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture +to-night."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it—the Indians?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again."</p> + +<p>"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over +harping on that yet?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard +the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see +you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and +we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's +always done before."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew +better than to take stock in ghost stories."</p> + +<p>"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close +to home."</p> + +<p>"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost +won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are +chattering like a child."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be +looked into."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you +get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any +ghost stories. Now be off!"</p> + +<p>"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his +pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come +away from it.</p> + +<p>"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near +here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it +looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts."</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h2>A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER."</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the +conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost +of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the +Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it. +Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at +night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds, +but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it.</p> + +<p>After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that +he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning.</p> + +<p>"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have +one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>the +kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them."</p> + +<p>The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A +short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different +sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade +Moquis.</p> + +<p>The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors +and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken +bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a +huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat. +His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze. +Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky."</p> + +<p>"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your +friends fancy?"</p> + +<p>There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>as he asked this, for +the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore +about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they +bore a brand.</p> + +<p>"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc, +or something more on the rocking-horse style?"</p> + +<p>Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had +had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be +called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert +smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly.</p> + +<p>"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not <i>too</i> much life, if you +please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up +the general spirit.</p> + +<p>"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral +gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies +evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race +round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and +left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some +apprehension, but they were too game to say anything.</p> + +<p>"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled +over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post, +leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a +small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging +by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with +life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the +air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck.</p> + +<p>At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let +his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as +it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and +bucking viciously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the +cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post, +and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle.</p> + +<p>"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob.</p> + +<p>"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?"</p> + +<p>"Same here, I'm in no hurry."</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck +me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky."</p> + +<p>After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin, +and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle, +however.</p> + +<p>"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction.</p> + +<p>Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot +in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and +swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing +happened. The boy felt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>as if an explosion must have occurred directly +beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the +sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the +corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone +in his body was in process of dislocation.</p> + +<p>"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!"</p> + +<p>Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too, +just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about, +several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on +the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle.</p> + +<p>"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker."</p> + +<p>"Go on, boy! Grip her!"</p> + +<p>"Don't go to leather!"</p> + +<p>These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's +ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the +troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a +cockle-burr, and that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>without "going to leather," or, in other words, +gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand +the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little +brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance, +and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down +and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this. +As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it +struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as +firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new +performance.</p> + +<p>All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was +five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed +inevitable disaster.</p> + +<p>The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out.</p> + +<p>"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought +the boy.</p> + +<p>The next instant the little broncho rose at the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>fence. The bars rose in +front like an impassable wall.</p> + +<p>"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head.</p> + +<p>But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the +active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs +just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted +on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and +heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show +white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump +card and lost.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides.</p> + +<p>Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward +the corral gate—a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin +owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the +cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them +by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>his hat and waved it three times +round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from +this little bit of braggadocio.</p> + +<p>"Yip-ee!" he yelled.</p> + +<p>"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was +going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but—all's well that ends +well."</p> + +<p>"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild +West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder +of the conquered buckskin.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly.</p> + +<p>"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster, +boy!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob.</p> + +<p>Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight +of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had +been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each +provided <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their +heads.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a +big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's. +He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up +the others and issue a call for a meeting."</p> + +<p>The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for +a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy +Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and +Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank +Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton.</p> + +<p>All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the +day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys +wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and +his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no +difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the +case. Rob had, meanwhile, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>received a letter from Hampton which reported +the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the +famous Eagles first saw the light.</p> + +<p>The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the +boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were +familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them +fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and +were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account +of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader, +with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill +master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed, +subject to immediate call.</p> + +<p>As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated +widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided +that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>at a given +rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the +boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting, +during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on +a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his +exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house.</p> + +<p>"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into +the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!"</p> + +<p>"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his +account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to +show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and +the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must +head them off!"</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h2>THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses +as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never +witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy +Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle +their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole +affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying +it all. Each man knew what was required of him.</p> + +<p>At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last +holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last +expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse +somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what +had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their +course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous +bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to +their death.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various +obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every +inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than +half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and +other harness details.</p> + +<p>Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been +about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept +forward.</p> + +<p>"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of +hoofs, in Harry's ear.</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble."</p> + +<p>Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers +shouting to another.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole +stampede came lambasting on top of him."</p> + +<p>The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a +more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to +draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this +would have shown "the white feather."</p> + +<p>"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry, +after an interval of silence among the boys.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the +others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the +boys will be there ahead of us, likely."</p> + +<p>"How about the others?"</p> + +<p>"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's +all over."</p> + +<p>It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of +dust. All about them, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>as far as the eye could penetrate the dense +smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys.</p> + +<p>"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby.</p> + +<p>"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can +make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there."</p> + +<p>In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the +cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night +before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started +the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in +case they swept over the cliffs.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday +that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess +they won't disperse till after the snake dance."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt.</p> + +<p>"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was +but one question in every mind.</p> + +<p>"Were they in time?"</p> + +<p>As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their +surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of +plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been +cut out of the ground. This drop—which was fully sixty feet +deep,—formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will +be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow +gulch.</p> + +<p>The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau—which was +undoubtedly of volcanic origin—varied from a hundred feet or more to +fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen.</p> + +<p>But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the +crowd of stampede <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a +halt.</p> + +<p>"Hark!"</p> + +<p>From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much +as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew +steadily in volume.</p> + +<p>"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew +louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the +stampede swept toward them.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread +half across the blue sky, wiping it out.</p> + +<p>"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky +critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them."</p> + +<p>But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that +little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of +courage in his body for the struggle that was to come.</p> + +<p>To the boys, as to the men, the situation was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>clear enough. Across the +plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the +Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face +of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between +this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen. +They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it +into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest +of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys.</p> + +<p>"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you +come. This is too dangerous for you."</p> + +<p>"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested +Harry.</p> + +<p>"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the +danger."</p> + +<p>There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them +with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their +ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>much gratified at the idea of +avoiding the stampede.</p> + +<p>"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside, +and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch."</p> + +<p>As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the +cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild +yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to +the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank +Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt +of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters.</p> + +<p>Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and +awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they +learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak.</p> + +<p>"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons.</p> + +<p>"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico +pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air. +Indeed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were +prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of +the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price.</p> + +<p>"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're +not looking," urged Bill Simmons.</p> + +<p>"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness +decisively.</p> + +<p>"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank +Price.</p> + +<p>"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother +Charley reminded him.</p> + +<p>"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient."</p> + +<p>And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out +in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the +vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>line rank. Each puncher +had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they +rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope.</p> + +<p>Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its +approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little +rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of +fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their +horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came +a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror.</p> + +<p>The boys' faces paled as they watched.</p> + +<p>"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!"</p> + +<p>The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the +stampede.</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang! Bang!</p> + +<p>A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at +full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It +was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death. +At the head of his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces, +rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay.</p> + +<p>Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without +appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush.</p> + +<p>A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in +checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained +between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space +galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save +themselves from a terrible death?</p> + +<p>"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up +in his stirrups.</p> + +<p>The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were +not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to +overtake the brave man and his helpers.</p> + +<p>"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly.</p> + +<p>This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been +firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the +oncoming herd.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>Bang! Bang! Bang!</p> + +<p>Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally +wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after +twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At +last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their +ranks broke and wavered.</p> + +<p>"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!"</p> + +<p>The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd +split up.</p> + +<p>"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!"</p> + +<p>The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and +he turned his pony sharply.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!"</p> + +<p>"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping +off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped +forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his +hold of the reins, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But +the second's delay had been fatal.</p> + +<p>Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two +sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to +their instinct, to reunite.</p> + +<p>"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought.</p> + +<p>He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of +escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island. +Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two +sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h2>HEMMED IN BY THE HERD.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more +perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not +have been devised by the utmost ingenuity.</p> + +<p>Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group +of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified +onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves +shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild +cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no +means out of danger.</p> + +<p>With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle +lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his +example.</p> + +<p>An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom +was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about +in that part of the country.</p> + +<p>Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to +him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by +the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only +path.</p> + +<p>Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be +taken.</p> + +<p>A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized +what the boy meant to do.</p> + +<p>Leap the gulch on his pony!</p> + +<p>A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark +crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from +what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he +could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling +flanks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>Crack!</p> + +<p>The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave +a squeal of rage and bounded forward.</p> + +<p>"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob.</p> + +<p>Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to +have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the +active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before +him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width—ten feet or more. A +tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done.</p> + +<p>"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the +maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the +edge of the pit.</p> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep102.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep102.jpg" width="48%" alt="Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.</p> +</div> + +<p>For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of +death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the +leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling, +shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>boy, give a great leap upward and—alight safe on the farther side of +the chasm.</p> + +<p>Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled +back at his friends.</p> + +<p>Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before.</p> + +<p>The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried +in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into +the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under +their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a +despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished.</p> + +<p>Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized +that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the +fate of the dumb brutes.</p> + +<p>Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and +ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats +breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature +of these half-wild brutes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>having had their run out, seemed inclined to +collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among +them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them +and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them +no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of +quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass.</p> + +<p>While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge +of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been +made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid +down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As +the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly +offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang +from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into +the gulch, above where he was crossing.</p> + +<p>"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but +every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved +away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less +of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to +erect new fences constantly.</p> + +<p>By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for +the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts +could not have been imagined.</p> + +<p>"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected +herd.</p> + +<p>"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never +saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource +will never again be necessary."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue +for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse +here, I'd never have done it."</p> + +<p>"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>roped up that four-legged +bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky.</p> + +<p>"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it."</p> + +<p>"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got +through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it +felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like +that again, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Not likely to, Tubby—but why so earnest?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and——"</p> + +<p>"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions, +reminds me that we haven't had any dinner."</p> + +<p>"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone +that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on +an air of innocence and rode apart.</p> + +<p>"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far +Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles. +If you boys think you can hold out we can ride <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>over there, and we can +have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Down to the ground," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his +assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a +meal.</p> + +<p>"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of +approval.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook +us up a fine feed."</p> + +<p>"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone.</p> + +<p>"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those, +too."</p> + +<p>"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony +up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand.</p> + +<p>"Yes—Soapy Sam; what of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with +it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and +loud outcries were getting the steers in motion.</p> + +<p>Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough +country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far +Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired +cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp +like a swarm of locusts.</p> + +<p>Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist, +flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of +monotonous chorus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Chick-chock-we-want Chuck!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chuck-chuck we want chuck!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>What's the luck?</p> + +<p>As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots +were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that +staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>atmosphere was redolent with +those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks +and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had +ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way.</p> + +<p>"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch +of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing +punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat."</p> + +<p>"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you +fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and +swopping lies."</p> + +<p>"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one.</p> + +<p>"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come +up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'"</p> + +<p>Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment +by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>boys and +the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys +dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled +their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring +was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time +this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the +bottom of a tin pan with a spoon.</p> + +<p>"Grub!" yelled the cowboys.</p> + +<p>"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula.</p> + +<p>Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member +of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried +potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar +devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of +coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he +plaintively asked for some of that fluid.</p> + +<p>"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?"</p> + +<p>A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query.</p> + +<p>"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr. +Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee +straight, in the regular range way."</p> + +<p>And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning, +rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were +destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires," +but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the +cloudless Arizona sky on the open range.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h2>THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were +pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a +while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was +to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill +at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At +first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it.</p> + +<p>"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry, +"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing +a night watch over restive cattle?"</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that +I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>and +you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into +mischief."</p> + +<p>"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the +victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of +laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and +waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies +and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the +boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton +were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone +to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four +punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to +keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive +during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully +occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their +guardians constantly near them.</p> + +<p>"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>name is Blinky Small," +declared Blinky emphatically.</p> + +<p>The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find +this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other +means of diversion.</p> + +<p>"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob.</p> + +<p>"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by +the laughter Rob's comment aroused.</p> + +<p>"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?"</p> + +<p>"Where's the ball?"</p> + +<p>"Where are the mitts?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the +tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big +league collection of stuff?"</p> + +<p>"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of," +said Jeb Cotton.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity. +You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?"</p> + +<p>The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at +least four pounds.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do—brain us?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't what?"</p> + +<p>"Brain you."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't got any."</p> + +<p>"Any what?"</p> + +<p>"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance.</p> + +<p>"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What, the pip?"</p> + +<p>"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments +on Tubby's inspiration.</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and +gentlemen, and see the eighth—or ninth wonder of the world—Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>Blake +has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away."</p> + +<p>"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the +laughter at his expense had subsided.</p> + +<p>"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving +them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat——"</p> + +<p>He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke. +However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had +prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs. +One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy +Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire +party from his premises.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?"</p> + +<p>"Go swimming," laughed Merritt.</p> + +<p>"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly.</p> + +<p>"He's got it again—a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave +dwellings?"</p> + +<p>"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys +who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed +to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a +vanished race, but they didn't say so.</p> + +<p>"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up +there and back," said Frank Price.</p> + +<p>Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start.</p> + +<p>"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a +stampede we were called out on."</p> + +<p>The others had done likewise.</p> + +<p>"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of +taking guns with us?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill +Simmons.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily +remarked the fat youth.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you +scared?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and +make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an +answer.</p> + +<p>"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry.</p> + +<p>And such was the general opinion.</p> + +<p>As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave +dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture +cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered +sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant +cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain—a slab +some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the +base.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle +trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth +cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees +almost—so far as they could judge—to a point near the summit, and +afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff.</p> + +<p>An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the +mountain—or high hill—which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost +in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty +feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the +cave-dwellers' mysterious homes.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice +"no cave man's home for us."</p> + +<p>It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a +sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave +dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon +holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been +said, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the +distance.</p> + +<p>"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby.</p> + +<p>"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger +brother.</p> + +<p>"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front +door bells any other way."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob, +who was looking about carefully—"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he +exclaimed suddenly, "look!"</p> + +<p>He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps +cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however, +that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy +Scout leader.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of +the cliff.</p> + +<p>"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob.</p> + +<p>Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down +which one false step would <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>have sent its maker plunging like a loosened +stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and, +with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the +precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock.</p> + +<p>It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling +to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and +the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed +but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors."</p> + +<p>Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the +ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed +him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf.</p> + +<p>"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as +he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the +exertion of his climb.</p> + +<p>"You ought to have been an undertaker, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All +you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at +going into one of those holes," parried Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not +much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod +passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence, +too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their +voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization +long passed to ashes.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys, +followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the +rocky portal of the first of the dwellings.</p> + +<p>A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces.</p> + +<p>"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing +it.</p> + +<p>"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt. +Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>passage, +almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the +joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like +the ghost of a baby's whisper.</p> + +<p>"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it +there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the +way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry."</p> + +<p>"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here."</p> + +<p>The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his +waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a +hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were +marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the +long-vanished cave-dwellers.</p> + +<p>Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>that entered their eyes, +ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of +them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his +attention elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate——" began Tubby, when his words +were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence.</p> + +<p>A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them +down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It +was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they +stood plunged into sudden blackness.</p> + +<p>The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice +of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts, +and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled +shriek.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h2>THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"L-l-let's get out of here—<i>quick</i>!"</p> + +<p>Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious +sounds swept by.</p> + +<p>"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons.</p> + +<p>"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet, +will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and +it was nothing to get scared at."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a +bang on the nose."</p> + +<p>"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton.</p> + +<p>"And me——" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him.</p> + +<p>"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>chance? All that racket was +caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats."</p> + +<p>"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully.</p> + +<p>"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one."</p> + +<p>Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw +lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged +cave-dwellers.</p> + +<p>"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the +cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw."</p> + +<p>"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth +were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into +the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ghosts are——" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His +mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two +big marbles. "Great hookey—what's that?"</p> + +<p>His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances +in the candle-lit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of +the Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton.</p> + +<p>"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in +its holster. "It's the wind or something."</p> + +<p>"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's +got feet—hark!"</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it +distinctly—a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage.</p> + +<p>"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels. +His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking +dust.</p> + +<p>Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring +at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points +of fire.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" he cried sharply.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved.</p> + +<p>"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy.</p> + +<p>"A-choo-oo-o—o-o-o-o-o!"</p> + +<p>The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose +nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant +an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors—a cry so terrible +that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely.</p> + +<p>He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six +spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl +more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there +was the sound of a heavy body falling.</p> + +<p>"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded +cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft, +the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of +him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back, +and avoided it by a hair's breadth.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>"A mountain lion!" cried Harry.</p> + +<p>"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've +laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like +this would look white against the cliff face."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who +had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny +creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive +act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places.</p> + +<p>"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in +here proves a mighty interesting fact."</p> + +<p>"And that is, that it's dead."</p> + +<p>"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it +without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to +this place somewhere."</p> + +<p>"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton.</p> + +<p>"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of +the cave, yet this lion <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its +food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the +cave."</p> + +<p>"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly.</p> + +<p>"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion, +"shall we go on or turn back?"</p> + +<p>"We'll go on!" shouted everybody.</p> + +<p>"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby.</p> + +<p>With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party +therefore pressed on into the darkness.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which +not much was left.</p> + +<p>"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry.</p> + +<p>"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong +to try to find a way out this way."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were +behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young +explorers had placed themselves in a predicament.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer +at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward. +Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened, +and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the +tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment.</p> + +<p>Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new +alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a +sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden +"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust.</p> + +<p>The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard +a sharp report somewhere outside.</p> + +<p>Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled +back into the tunnel.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt.</p> + +<p>"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians, +but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move, +fired. I'm going to try to find out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt.</p> + +<p>"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got."</p> + +<p>Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to +use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob +pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole.</p> + +<p>Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal.</p> + +<p>"Bang!"</p> + +<p>Rob drew in the hat and examined it.</p> + +<p>"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid."</p> + +<p>A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be +able to shoot like that."</p> + +<p>"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when +I looked out."</p> + +<p>"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the +Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he +began to whimper.</p> + +<p>"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they +get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of +it."</p> + +<p>"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Huh?"</p> + +<p>"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again."</p> + +<p>"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by +those Indian bullets."</p> + +<p>"But supposing they follow us?"</p> + +<p>"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall +walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at +our heels?"</p> + +<p>"It's all we can do, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the +sooner we start the better."</p> + +<p>"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry +brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set +fire to it.</p> + +<p>"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby.</p> + +<p>"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing +at us, will see it and think we are still there."</p> + +<p>Rob nodded approvingly.</p> + +<p>"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel. +He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so +fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the +other end it was dark, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>and the stars were shining above them. Far below +they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers +were keeping watch.</p> + +<p>"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the +ledge. "I'm hungry."</p> + +<p>"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the +quicker we'll get some hot supper."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of +gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of +a shout.</p> + +<p>"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody, +quick!"</p> + +<p>A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys +press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed.</p> + +<p>"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said.</p> + +<p>It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into +black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them.</p> + +<p>Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>behind with drawn revolver. +He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out +of the tunnel.</p> + +<p>"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the +rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff.</p> + +<p>"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be +up before——"</p> + +<p>He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the +night.</p> + +<p>Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under +him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff.</p> + +<p>The next instant—for the whole thing happened in the wink of an +instantaneous photographic shutter—Tubby was gone.</p> + +<p>With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of +the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth. +Below him was utter blackness.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h2>CAPTURED BY MOQUIS.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had +reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath +them. It was Merritt who first found his voice.</p> + +<p>"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat +on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void.</p> + +<p>"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly.</p> + +<p>"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him.</p> + +<p>The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry +up and get me out of this; I'm hungry."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as +he is in."</p> + +<p>"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was +falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how +long it'll bear me."</p> + +<p>"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly +daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the +mere vibration of his voice.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his +way along his slender aerial perch.</p> + +<p>Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal.</p> + +<p>"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as +quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again. +Bring ponies and ropes with you—all you can get of them, and maybe +Blinky and some of the men had better come."</p> + +<p>"All right, Rob. But how about you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were +making full speed to the camp.</p> + +<p>"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this +tree."</p> + +<p>"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as +we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a +life."</p> + +<p>"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck."</p> + +<p>"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they +can get ponies up that trail."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?"</p> + +<p>"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this +tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>"What! You've been moving about?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I've got to have something to do."</p> + +<p>The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as +the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end.</p> + +<p>"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the +meaning of fear."</p> + +<p>Then he went on aloud:</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false +move might send you off into space."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy +tone.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he +were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult."</p> + +<p>For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the +difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the +recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing +them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind—displaced by +Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>bound, which +almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby.</p> + +<p>A hand had been placed on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth +and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face, +the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen +cruel countenances.</p> + +<p>How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The +simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the +soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest +difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was +Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth +of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers.</p> + +<p>"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought.</p> + +<p>But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled +to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a +shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>as plain as print to any +Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off.</p> + +<p>The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly +but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy. +Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of +escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly. +Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have +been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of +their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter +still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging +alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for +the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had +been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye.</p> + +<p>On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along +the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the +carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>it was not long before they +emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary +marksman who had made a sieve of his hat.</p> + +<p>At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then +started forward on a steady jog-trot once more.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in +the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the +circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like +this."</p> + +<p>It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little +of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by +noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the +star-sprinkled sky.</p> + +<p>Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over +rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the +boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same +time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears. +Before many moments had passed, they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>came in sight of several tepees, +pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible, +cañon. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them. +Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping +at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill +screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the +tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to +meet the returning redskins.</p> + +<p>"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could +say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel +better."</p> + +<p>As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by +a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him +inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with +red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee +covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy +with a piercing eye for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to +another tepee, and gave some sort of an order.</p> + +<p>Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had +brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung +roughly into the tepee.</p> + +<p>"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of +his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of +entrance into the patched and smoky tent.</p> + +<p>"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's +a strange experience—captured by real Indians. That's more than any of +the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow."</p> + +<p>No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of +the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him.</p> + +<p>His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West +show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village, +as he watched it busily moving about him. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>savory smell of the +Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of +emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food.</p> + +<p>"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself, +"especially after the way they chucked me in here."</p> + +<p>When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes +and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob +began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty, +and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by +hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks.</p> + +<p>"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought +the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and +marched out.</p> + +<p>For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No +attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and +the boy reached the bank of the stream <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>without the slightest +interference being opposed to his movements.</p> + +<p>"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me."</p> + +<p>He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank +of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly:</p> + +<p>"White boy, come back!"</p> + +<p>The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably +Indian.</p> + +<p>Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming +rifle-barrel.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h2>TUBBY'S PERIL.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him."</p> + +<p>Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help, +peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain.</p> + +<p>"He can't have gone over, too."</p> + +<p>It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility.</p> + +<p>"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!—below +there—are you all right?"</p> + +<p>"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and +you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as +the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a +loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had +brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying +them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been +informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve +him.</p> + +<p>A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was +not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To +haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the +summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that +great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face. +The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder +that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them.</p> + +<p>Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a +turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found +about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end +of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach."</p> + +<p>He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it +rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear +it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung.</p> + +<p>"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the +darkness and tentatively swinging the rope.</p> + +<p>"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady +as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream.</p> + +<p>"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy +goat sometimes," muttered the puncher.</p> + +<p>"How's that?" he asked a minute later.</p> + +<p>"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it."</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You +might lose your balance, and——"</p> + +<p>He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>the other end of the rope. +Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks +told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the +loop fast about him.</p> + +<p>"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator +runner:</p> + +<p>"Go—ing up!"</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle +shaken now that the crucial moment was near.</p> + +<p>He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he +extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from +below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them."</p> + +<p>"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with +all your might. That boy's a heavy load."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry +Harkness.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand +his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark, +you know."</p> + +<p>The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the +cliff edge.</p> + +<p>"All right?" he shouted down.</p> + +<p>"All right!" rejoined Tubby.</p> + +<p>Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the +rope.</p> + +<p>"Haul away, boys," he ordered.</p> + +<p>A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the +lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it.</p> + +<p>"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped.</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice.</p> + +<p>"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:—</p> + +<p>"Pull away, boys."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or +more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky.</p> + +<p>"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher.</p> + +<p>Instantly the hoisting ceased.</p> + +<p>"Now, what is it, Tubby?"</p> + +<p>"I just thought of something."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind that now. Are you all right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, except my knees."</p> + +<p>"Ha-ul a-way."</p> + +<p>The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat +boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge.</p> + +<p>As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his +gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck +Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of +the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the +thought flashed across his mind before a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>shout of alarm came from the +boys, simultaneously with a sharp:</p> + +<p>Crack!</p> + +<p>"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree.</p> + +<p>"It's broken!"</p> + +<p>Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope +began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted. +Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone.</p> + +<p>"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself +onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a +feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending +Tubby's weight. In another moment—for he obstinately refused to let +go—he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened.</p> + +<p>"Hooray! I've got it."</p> + +<p>The shout came in Merritt's voice.</p> + +<p>The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and +secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>the +knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree, +this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff +both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death.</p> + +<p>"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses.</p> + +<p>"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!" +hailed Merritt back.</p> + +<p>"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been +for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by +lightening express, too."</p> + +<p>As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher +had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the +meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action.</p> + +<p>The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope +breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into +a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up +a cheerful:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost +jolted the daylights out of me."</p> + +<p>"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the +puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened.</p> + +<p>"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an +interval of hauling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers.</p> + +<p>The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to +get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser, +but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a +move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached +the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his +feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker +object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of +humming. It was Tubby crooning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>to himself as he swung on the end of the +frail rope:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"See-saw! see-saw!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a s-um-mers day!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as +he heard.</p> + +<p>He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist.</p> + +<p>"How's your nerve, Tubby?"</p> + +<p>"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response.</p> + +<p>"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I +want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just +two minutes. Think you can do it?"</p> + +<p>"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, or——"</p> + +<p>"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to +his mouth, he shouted upward:</p> + +<p>"Haul away! Slow, now!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through +them.</p> + +<p>"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound +as a ship's cable."</p> + +<p>Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" roared Blinky.</p> + +<p>He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout +boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him—he could have, that is if +Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock +face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the +ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with +four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover, +in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with, +and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the +other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore—necessity being the mother +of invention—he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall +soon see.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the +cow-puncher.</p> + +<p>"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up.</p> + +<p>"All right, then, grab it—and in Heaven's name, hold on!"</p> + +<p>With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the +rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders. +The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between +him and eternity.</p> + +<p>Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope +around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized +the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip.</p> + +<p>"Haul!" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles.</p> + +<p>"Stop!"</p> + +<p>The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge, +while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists.</p> + +<p>"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>every muscle till they +seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became +contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck +and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the +stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer.</p> + +<p>"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost +lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied +sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the +cow-puncher's arms.</p> + +<p>"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement, +dragging him back.</p> + +<p>"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy +sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h2>A FRIEND IN NEED.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction. +"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had +imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again."</p> + +<p>The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him +stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would +have shown on the features of a mask.</p> + +<p>"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me, +old chap. I'm going to bed."</p> + +<p>If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and +solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay +down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and +in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as +if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house.</p> + +<p>It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent +flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian +girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets.</p> + +<p>"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet +heard in the Indian camp.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming +dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been +placed.</p> + +<p>"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat."</p> + +<p>"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had +been named after some white Susy Jane.</p> + +<p>"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>remarked Rob, between +mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in +it.</p> + +<p>"Um! Me with Wild West show one time."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?"</p> + +<p>"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe."</p> + +<p>"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief +silence.</p> + +<p>"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"No beans—beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round +neck—savee?"</p> + +<p>Rob nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head +vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's +vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to +work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he +knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself.</p> + +<p>"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,—you know?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money +for you. Have big dance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that +case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely."</p> + +<p>"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of +beads—fine ones, like white ladies wear?"</p> + +<p>The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these +unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea. +Presently her face clouded over, however.</p> + +<p>"How can?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Me give um you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>"You?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but +you have got to do something for me."</p> + +<p>"What that?"</p> + +<p>"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night."</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her +refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised +beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then +sprang up, radiant once more.</p> + +<p>"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very +sick. I get you his pony."</p> + +<p>"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about +you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very +old man. Pony very old, too—plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think +pony bust 'em and get away."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in +no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on +to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for +the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event +of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape +would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to +carry it out as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning +of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort +he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night +would never come.</p> + +<p>Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her +moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition. +Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had +been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a +fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>his doubts. Suspense +was all that was left for him.</p> + +<p>As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse.</p> + +<p>"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night," +thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat, +blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat +slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players +ceased and went to their tepees.</p> + +<p>By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and +apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch +the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they +did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert +and awake to the slightest move on his part.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting +himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any +time since his capture. The camp was now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>as silent as a country +graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional +crackle of an ember falling to ashes.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of +his tepee.</p> + +<p>Surely the flap had moved.</p> + +<p>After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly +rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the +gloom of the shelter.</p> + +<p>"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony."</p> + +<p>"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath.</p> + +<p>Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In +another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky.</p> + +<p>"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark +fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could, +but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which +snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They +looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob, +crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they +were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they +contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual, +resumed their statue-like vigil.</p> + +<p>"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's +cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and +managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another +alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the +encampment.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which +several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled. +Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she +had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles.</p> + +<p>Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>and the other on its +withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second.</p> + +<p>"Which way I go?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find +trail."</p> + +<p>"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget +the beads."</p> + +<p>"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan.</p> + +<p>"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured +her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little +animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It +was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was +given.</p> + +<p>"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the +pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little +animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow, +Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and——"</p> + +<p>Crash!</p> + +<p>The little pony had done just what Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>dreaded. Nimble as it was, a +loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees +with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series +of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy.</p> + +<p>The alarm had been given.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused +shooting.</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang!</p> + +<p>"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope +hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding +"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever +you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night."</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h2>A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely +stumble.</p> + +<p>"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them," +thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet."</p> + +<p>Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy +pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of +the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their +earshot.</p> + +<p>It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark +night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the +uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in +his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>of +chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his +pony's back.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch.</p> + +<p>"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony +half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs +splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back +on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what +there was of it, set toward him.</p> + +<p>Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense +satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he +had first heard them.</p> + +<p>"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would +only come along——"</p> + +<p>But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not +dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a +book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only +salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden +heart leap, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek.</p> + +<p>A shrill cry sounded close behind him.</p> + +<p>Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had +approached him so nearly?</p> + +<p>The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again.</p> + +<p>"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!"</p> + +<p>"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's +another answering it—and by George! there's another!"</p> + +<p>From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the +owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the +unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the +steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears.</p> + +<p>"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!"</p> + +<p>As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise. +To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy +showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in +full flight hummed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a +sharp report behind him.</p> + +<p>Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and +began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in +front of the escaping white boy.</p> + +<p>He was hemmed in by Indians!</p> + +<p>The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness +had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful +woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering +him and surrounding him.</p> + +<p>For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed +by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on +over the rise.</p> + +<p>The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the +approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on +every side of the boy. What was he to do?</p> + +<p>One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in +his extremity. If all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as +they were to deceive.</p> + +<p>Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of +piñon trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his +surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp. +But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the +very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped +that the pony would trot forward.</p> + +<p>The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that +Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a +desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and +discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians +wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they +shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took +them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his piñon trees.</p> + +<p>Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the +white boy had served <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was +then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew +that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have +stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite +direction to their desired quarry.</p> + +<p>And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of +their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their +mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a +hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him.</p> + +<p>Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the +darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without +food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob, +nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and +through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced.</p> + +<p>Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or +mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground +was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>an acclivity as +steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took +might be leading him farther and farther astray.</p> + +<p>"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good +flat stone would do."</p> + +<p>Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a +flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready +couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun +which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw +over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place.</p> + +<p>Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till +the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by +daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had +not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind +a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension, +when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his +journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>slope dropped +down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while +in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it +without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones.</p> + +<p>But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else +suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of +frying bacon!</p> + +<p>Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was +camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout, +but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the +boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself +from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy +screen.</p> + +<p>Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was +frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation +point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance +from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to +uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw +the man's features.</p> + +<p>It was Hank Handcraft.</p> + +<p>The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once +luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably +Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was +Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and +the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu +jitsu—Clark Jennings.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to +light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch."</p> + +<p>"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank.</p> + +<p>"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis +now."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>a great idea, dressing up +like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those +sheep off his pastures."</p> + +<p>"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted +Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same +time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the +East—your old pals, Bill."</p> + +<p>"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The +best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack +Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it. +If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank +and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken +country."</p> + +<p>"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since +you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of +Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money."</p> + +<p>"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon +on a hunk of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob +half crazy to watch.</p> + +<p>"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the +scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have +our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"That would look good to me," grunted Hank.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to +steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak +of turning them out in the Far Pasture."</p> + +<p>"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take +poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well."</p> + +<p>"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark.</p> + +<p>"I guess that's what you'd call it."</p> + +<p>Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their +temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded +their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>Harkness's cattle, Rob had no +doubt, judging by their conversation.</p> + +<p>"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't +want any one trailing us."</p> + +<p>The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled +ponies stood eying them at some short distance.</p> + +<p>"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their +heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what +was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which +screened him.</p> + +<p>With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and +pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very +careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand +rested gave way with a crash.</p> + +<p>Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung +headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring, +rattling landslide of rocks and earth.</p> + +<p>The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's +involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears.</p> + +<p>"What the——" shouted Hank Handcraft.</p> + +<p>"Who is——" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and +cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own +fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three +of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their +fire.</p> + +<p>"It's a bear!" yelled Hank.</p> + +<p>"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet +and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!"</p> + +<p>"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it. +"That kid's Rob Blake."</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h2>WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?</h2> +<br /> + +<p>But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder, +it was dashed down by Clark Jennings.</p> + +<p>"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?"</p> + +<p>Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded +the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash +for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled, +near at hand.</p> + +<p>"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he +reached.</p> + +<p>Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and +half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged +forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an +abrupt turn in the trail.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender.</p> + +<p>"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after +things. Come, Bill—quick—the ponies!"</p> + +<p>In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail +in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?"</p> + +<p>Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail. +Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount.</p> + +<p>"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion +it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our +voices. Say, Clark, what if—what if he did hear?"</p> + +<p>"Then Harkness will find out everything."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>"Well, if what?"</p> + +<p>"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame +it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the +redskins did it, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion.</p> + +<p>"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted +Bill.</p> + +<p>"That's right, too. Do you think you could——"</p> + +<p>Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for +him to voice.</p> + +<p>"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're +hitting up a hot pace for good shooting."</p> + +<p>"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill. +"Hark!"</p> + +<p>Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of +them suddenly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it +could not have been more than a few feet ahead.</p> + +<p>"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day +was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever.</p> + +<p>Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the +leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was +followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body +had fallen.</p> + +<p>Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to +dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms +assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a +second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A +second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was +mingled with curses.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly.</p> + +<p>"Come here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of."</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged +his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted, +and was standing over a dark, still object in the road.</p> + +<p>It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly.</p> + +<p>It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet.</p> + +<p>"But the b-b-boy, is he——" stuttered Clark.</p> + +<p>"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill.</p> + +<p>"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, clean wiped out."</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>"Ask me an easy one."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't he left a trail?"</p> + +<p>"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane."</p> + +<p>For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat +in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened +at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished +more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying +by the dead pony.</p> + +<p>Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up +their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made +their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the +piñon and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's +inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on +a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr. +Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt +Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers.</p> + +<p>The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with +his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than +would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and +the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off.</p> + +<p>The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing +into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made +a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way.</p> + +<p>Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had +accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on +foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an +Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the +Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy +only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of +those who were searching for him in the darkness.</p> + +<p>With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now +they had reached its <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward +their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and +scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace +had vanished.</p> + +<p>Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes +are plumb cold."</p> + +<p>"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired +Mr. Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to +tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they +have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor +boy for?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe +they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long +enough."</p> + +<p>"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>rancher sadly, sitting down +upon an outcropping rock.</p> + +<p>He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his +rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried +off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow +them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable +time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."</p> + +<p>"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt, +gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol. +Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to +that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.</p> + +<p>"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason +why we shouldn't go ahead."</p> + +<p>As Tubby said, the party had brought rations <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>with them which, though +not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food +supply.</p> + +<p>"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.</p> + +<p>The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was +suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats +sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the +direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to +see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.</p> + +<p>The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind +the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty, +confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had +expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the +last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h2>BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of +Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon +the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to +recover his voice.</p> + +<p>"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness," +spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that +the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange +fate.</p> + +<p>"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness +leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question +will always be productive of strife, more's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>the pity. Besides, certain +fence-cutting incidents——"</p> + +<p>"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing—without the +proper evidence."</p> + +<p>The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words.</p> + +<p>"What we want from you now, Clark, is information."</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone.</p> + +<p>"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch," +explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask +information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob +Blake——"</p> + +<p>"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at +Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew +green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had +come near hitting the nail on the head when he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>connected them in a +vague way with Rob's disappearance.</p> + +<p>"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you +needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt +angrily.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good. +Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now +is if they have seen Rob?"</p> + +<p>"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost +hereabouts?"</p> + +<p>"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as +you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might +have had the good fortune to escape."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone, +now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him.</p> + +<p>"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we +like."</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with +gentlemen's preferences out here in the West."</p> + +<p>"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at +the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark +carried behind him.</p> + +<p>"We did not."</p> + +<p>"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs +for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank.</p> + +<p>"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why +we're carrying the saddle—to put on him when we find him. That, too, +accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with +excitement as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>stepped forward. "<i>Where did you get Rob Blake's +sombrero?</i>"</p> + +<p>His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily +tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band +about its crown.</p> + +<p>"Why, I—we—that is—it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily.</p> + +<p>"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by +rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You——"</p> + +<p>Crack!</p> + +<p>The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy +quirt and cut him full across the face with it.</p> + +<p>"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get +out of this."</p> + +<p>The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by +the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In +that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with +anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his +blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm.</p> + +<p>"Not that way, Blinky," he said.</p> + +<p>"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been +a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass."</p> + +<p>"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an +angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop +them!"</p> + +<p>"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone.</p> + +<p>"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the +cow-punchers.</p> + +<p>As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little +rise.</p> + +<p>As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back.</p> + +<p>"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them.</p> + +<p>Bang!</p> + +<p>The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>youth's hand as if some +invisible grasp had been laid upon it.</p> + +<p>Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew +the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had +just punctured Clark's headgear.</p> + +<p>"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help +it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark +Jennings party vanished in a hurry.</p> + +<p>The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the +rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's +hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians +in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste +of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob +himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences +of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party +made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>left the day +before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range.</p> + +<p>"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr. +Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he +isn't on the top of the earth."</p> + +<p>All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far +from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the +dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable +time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow +for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed +distracted and worried.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some +theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to +the southwest.</p> + +<p>"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there—what is it?"</p> + +<p>The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending +from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval.</p> + +<p>"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose +and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals.</p> + +<p>"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. What has that to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, this is Injun code."</p> + +<p>"Indian?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a +wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now, +if we had their code book we——"</p> + +<p>"What, the Indians have a code book?"</p> + +<p>"You bet."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the +cow-puncher.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to +another hilltop some distance from the first.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident +answer to the first.</p> + +<p>"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky. +"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out +something about Rob."</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h2>IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob +would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to +watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the +distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were +stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering +it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's +direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian +smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked +up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once +worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite +an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover."</p> + +<p>Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing +intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of +the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system +in use to-day on our telegraph lines.</p> + +<p>"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes +with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better +to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had +reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly.</p> + +<p>Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread +of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered +and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if +a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up.</p> + +<p>"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced +Clark finally.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank +Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they +going to send a pony?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness +hits our trail?"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob," +replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to."</p> + +<p>"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we +are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful."</p> + +<p>"You think he is alive, then?"</p> + +<p>"Must be, unless he melted into thin air."</p> + +<p>"That's so."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period +of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's +mavericks?"</p> + +<p>"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to +have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out, +seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be +left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say, +and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big +drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover +that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!"</p> + +<p>In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next +hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring +of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still, +the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping +of some night insect.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the +hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>later +they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the +newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood +before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark +shadows.</p> + +<p>"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into +the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket.</p> + +<p>The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with +customary stealth on the camping place of his allies.</p> + +<p>"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want +talk?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant," +grinned Hank.</p> + +<p>"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the +chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not +again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in +council with them.</p> + +<p>"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the +rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them +away we can all be rich—make heap money."</p> + +<p>"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come.</p> + +<p>"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy——"</p> + +<p>"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian.</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>did</i> take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you +have sense enough to keep him?"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with +Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by +adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But +Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption.</p> + +<p>"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the +heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from +the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly.</p> + +<p>The Indian shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the +mountains seeking us now."</p> + +<p>Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile.</p> + +<p>"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble, +everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle +of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger."</p> + +<p>"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark.</p> + +<p>But the chief shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't help us?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly +letting his temper get the better of him for an instant.</p> + +<p>The Indian drew himself up with haughty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>dignity. Slowly he gathered the +folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak.</p> + +<p>"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will +sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and +the next instant he was gone.</p> + +<p>"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank, +as the offended Indian strode off.</p> + +<p>"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill +Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy +note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I +can tell you."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That we'll have to do the Indian act again."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail. +We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go."</p> + +<p>As my readers will have seen, the above <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>conversation throws a strange +side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was +patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and +to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of +cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were +to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the +Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late, +discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their +fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan +which they deemed offered every security against discovery.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard +when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such +velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will +be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy +had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of +where he was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit, +and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt +his pony halt and stagger beneath him.</p> + +<p>For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be +captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the +lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of +great stress.</p> + +<p>At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged +forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and +seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity +of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as +the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way +among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail.</p> + +<p>While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and +searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his +way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could +hardly keep himself <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin +and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance.</p> + +<p>He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling +himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on +without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings +since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now, +however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came. +Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt +before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering +lassitude assailed him in every limb.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! am I going to play out?"</p> + +<p>The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay.</p> + +<p>He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and +although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point +of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of +sun-burned wild oats and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>foxtail. By the height of the sun and its +direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been +traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden +collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he +craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had +never before assailed him.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked +himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully."</p> + +<p>Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the +boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything. +A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy.</p> + +<p>"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way.</p> + +<p>He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to +him, like the accents of another person.</p> + +<p>"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for +a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple +berry.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort +of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having +reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted +creature.</p> + +<p>All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up +erect—the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the +advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least; +for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a +boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake.</p> + +<p>"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy, +as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling +grumbling.</p> + +<p>What can it be?</p> + +<p>"Sounds like—like——Great Scott! Silver Tip!"</p> + +<p>Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his +sheltering bush, there had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch +of the Santa Catapinas.</p> + +<p>It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small, +piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was +hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest +part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap," +so to speak.</p> + +<p>The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics +changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely +about—like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The +small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his +dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob +had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target.</p> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep218.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep218.jpg" width="48%" alt="the boy leaped to his feet" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;"> With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed +straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.</p> +</div> + +<p>But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and +exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip +came lumbering into the clearing. The sight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>of the monster had tipped +the delicately adjusted balance.</p> + +<p>With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his +monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his +immense bulk upward.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob +deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous +hairy tower of rugged strength.</p> + +<p>The great forepaws—armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel +chisels—extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the +monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was +unexpected, occurred.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h2>THE INDIAN AGENT.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly +emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a +striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the +Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he +instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the +extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first +man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone, +attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country.</p> + +<p>"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far +wrong in this surmise.</p> + +<p>But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange +scene, and Jeffries <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination +when the necessity called for immediate action.</p> + +<p>Bang!</p> + +<p>For the twentieth—or was it the hundredth?—time in his eventful life, +Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's +usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it +buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting +a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe.</p> + +<p>As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled +up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground.</p> + +<p>For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas +meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind +as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded +as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning +power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had +doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>charge +furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These +had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight +and run away, and live to fight some other day."</p> + +<p>So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of +human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his +admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held +his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature +unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more +hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become +devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the +plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all +fours and lumbered off.</p> + +<p>"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty +wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides.</p> + +<p>"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel +shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along +when I did, and——Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. +"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of +Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery."</p> + +<p>He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill, +piercing call.</p> + +<p>The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the +clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid +eyes fell on his master.</p> + +<p>"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it +had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome +for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun. +We've got to get him home, Ranger."</p> + +<p>Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His +keen senses <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there +is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his +majesty, King Bruin.</p> + +<p>Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid +horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced +apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place +Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly +up behind the cantle.</p> + +<p>Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck, +the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty +skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went +unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him.</p> + +<p>After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located +open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which +might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now, +however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the +bottom <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred +mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the +midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small +cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact, +been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector. +Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his +surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with +an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable.</p> + +<p>So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered +consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of +fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through +holes in which he could see the blue sky.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed +back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed.</p> + +<p>Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he +retraced recent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his +delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection.</p> + +<p>"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was +Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his +intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and +the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had +happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there, +a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone:</p> + +<p>"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight +grizzlies with his bare hands?"</p> + +<p>Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his +companion's kindly, bearded features.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>Indian agent. "And now, if +you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting +along. How does that sound?"</p> + +<p>"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his +appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be +babied this way. I'm going to get up and——"</p> + +<p>"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent. +"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty +head appeared inquiringly in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up—grab him!"</p> + +<p>With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend +the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside.</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and +haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me, +and——I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or +if that was just a bluff."</p> + +<p>It was a good evidence of Rob's returning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>vitality that he stretched +out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness.</p> + +<p>Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and +the whites of his eyes showed menacingly.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob.</p> + +<p>As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the +kind light came back into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this +is the first I have ever seen."</p> + +<p>Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger—animals trained to the same +wonderful pitch of intelligence—are not uncommon in the Southwest. +Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more +appetizing than anything he had ever known.</p> + +<p>"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor.</p> + +<p>"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made +table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>half a +dozen more bowls like it—or so he felt—but Mr. Mayberry told him that +after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow."</p> + +<p>So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able +to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite +recovered his faculties.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found +you?"</p> + +<p>Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by +exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent.</p> + +<p>"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a +thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have +frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated +the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most +unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and +fence cutting."</p> + +<p>"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>goes, it is almost impossible +to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from +the East, and his companions?"</p> + +<p>"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our +experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of +our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut."</p> + +<p>"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!"</p> + +<p>"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to +the West."</p> + +<p>Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him +some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding +up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a +detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel +Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The +Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great +Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it +with the troops at the height of the ceremonies.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he +declared.</p> + +<p>"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob.</p> + +<p>"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but +since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be +informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a +settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch."</p> + +<p>Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it +would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest +disappointment and hastened to reassure him.</p> + +<p>"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for +even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return +with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if +possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the +Moquis."</p> + +<p>A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, +springing up, followed by Rob.</p> + +<p>Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was +gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently. +His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance +was one of intense nervousness.</p> + + +<p>"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that +Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make +him act like that—Indians and bears—and I reckon there are no bears +about right now.</p> + +<p>"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse, +you'll have to carry double, after all."</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h2>BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and +Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the +big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless +little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr. +Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned, +disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking +search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found +absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had +indeed reached "the end of the rope."</p> + +<p>"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?"</p> + +<p>It was Merritt who spoke.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>boy, that we have used up +every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher.</p> + +<p>"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may +be wandering about in the mountains now."</p> + +<p>"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically.</p> + +<p>"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary +tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech.</p> + +<p>"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we +could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness, +and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the +last flicker of hope has died out."</p> + +<p>"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?"</p> + +<p>"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of +strength he will make his way back."</p> + +<p>"But the tracks of the big bear?"</p> + +<p>"Silver Tip," put in Harry.</p> + +<p>"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>Merritt; "but somehow I +feel that Rob will yet come out all right."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently.</p> + +<p>As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching +party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of +their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger +of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the +huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor +in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the +missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and +many other dangers that he might have to face.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he +had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the +same, Blinky running to the window.</p> + +<p>"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent +for election!" he announced.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky.</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt.</p> + +<p>The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned +searchers.</p> + +<p>"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he has news of the boy."</p> + +<p>"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the +cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's +worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward +the door began.</p> + +<p>They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so +violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said, +the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His +pony's coat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was +whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost +obliterated by the same substance.</p> + +<p>"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of +faces.</p> + +<p>"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed +the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony.</p> + +<p>The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He +evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces. +Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of +the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony.</p> + +<p>"Has—has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward.</p> + +<p>"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of +an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and +if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him."</p> + +<p>Together the Indian chief and the rancher <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>passed into the living room +of the ranch house, and the door closed on them.</p> + +<p>For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once +more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually +grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The +Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought +round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then, +without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off.</p> + +<p>"He—he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that +instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all +he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you +that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no +longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's +saddle, escaped."</p> + +<p>"Then nobody knows where he is?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>"That's it."</p> + +<p>Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear +what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the +rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind.</p> + +<p>"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things +are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For +the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A +younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the +tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black +Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked +for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here."</p> + +<p>"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly.</p> + +<p>"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything +to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells +me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite +of that, an attack is to be made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by +Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and——"</p> + +<p>"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!" +cried Blinky.</p> + +<p>"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive +any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious +after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What +he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself +and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw +the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work +him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me."</p> + +<p>"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt.</p> + +<p>"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty +influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his +tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me +of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front +for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>"But will you?" asked Harry.</p> + +<p>"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means +of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious +predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range, +rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we +to oppose him?"</p> + +<p>"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly.</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not +one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger."</p> + +<p>"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at +least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do +all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>trailing poor Rob, and +they're made of the right stuff."</p> + +<p>So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far +Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little +doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had +been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact, +we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such +was the case.</p> + +<p>"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt, +when this had been settled.</p> + +<p>"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it, +if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for +soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their +revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he +can."</p> + +<p>"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself +more popular <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance +with all its trimmings."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly.</p> + +<p>"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky.</p> + +<p>"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of +his favorite topic.</p> + +<p>"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they +throw into a red-hot pit of coals."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white +men that ever saw one and got out alive."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their +fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death."</p> + +<p>"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did," +muttered Tubby.</p> + +<p>At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness +hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other +end.</p> + +<p>"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about.</p> + +<p>Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear.</p> + +<p>"He's——Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat +some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to +Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death."</p> + +<p>"How far is Red Flat from here?"</p> + +<p>"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse."</p> + +<p>"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?"</p> + +<p>"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the +Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in +expostulation.</p> + +<p>"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim. +"You are mad to attempt it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>duty to place his head in +a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you——"</p> + +<p>"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind +him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what +he is about to do."</p> + +<p>"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry.</p> + +<p>"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '<i>reason</i>' with the +Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock, +a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't +reason with an Indian."</p> + +<p>"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h2>THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive +intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been +able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they +were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady +eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed +the trail without any misgivings.</p> + +<p>The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the +uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that +reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the +hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well +that he did so, as we shall see.</p> + +<p>Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>than a dozen dusky forms +slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about. +Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of +everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were, +then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took +the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of +the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians, +with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some +little distance from the shanty.</p> + +<p>All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily +forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent +had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks. +Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their +presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry +on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered +to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is +true, but he determined <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than +expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than +needful.</p> + +<p>It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement +with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the +outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day +trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the +store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its +owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they +could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur +before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the +blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch.</p> + +<p>He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper, +drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some +sheep, which had kept him away till that time.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What +brings you here? Come <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those +'babies' of yours?"</p> + +<p>"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben, +I'd like to telephone."</p> + +<p>"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as +he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head +off."</p> + +<p>Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's +astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he +had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the +soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake +dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis."</p> + +<p>Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control +of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red +men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been +able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the +tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>Diamond Snake, who was as +ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance, +and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still +kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail. +Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable, +and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even +spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was +behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the +veteran.</p> + +<p>In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder +Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided +for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the +good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no +one knew what would happen.</p> + +<p>This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The +ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their +ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the +traditions of the Moquis. A similar <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>situation has often prevailed in +the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red +man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will +of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance +to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish.</p> + +<p>So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had +stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it, +had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not +unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy.</p> + +<p>No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode +slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile +played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole +countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him, +would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a +pleasant mood.</p> + +<p>In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind +to have passed the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be +at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the +valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain, +things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their +reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless +decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence +was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He +regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and +reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin +veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men +had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character +was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly +destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were +called upon to bear.</p> + +<p>The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so +in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>swerved so +violently from the trail as almost to unseat him.</p> + +<p>"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's +neck. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a +dead stop.</p> + +<p>"Why, Ranger, I——" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells, +several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their +soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted +with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent +from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of +the maddened Ranger.</p> + +<p>His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the +previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement.</p> + +<p>The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog +into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf. +In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them +into a ferocity of mind <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>which had speedily wiped off the varnish +civilization had applied so painstakingly.</p> + +<p>While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed +himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the +plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and +fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with +a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his +iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled +him over in the road beside his master.</p> + +<p>The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again. +Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over +the back of one of their ponies.</p> + +<p>Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound +that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back +of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive +chest showed that he still lived.</p> + +<p>Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>including the one who had +been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief, +however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found +himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider +as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's +steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by +Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and +ears wickedly set back.</p> + +<p>With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up +the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's +rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression +of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot +master.</p> + +<p>Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be +inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind. +And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and +sometimes striking off through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>the trackless wild. Never once did the +redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten +track.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic +whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the +back of the Indian pony that bore him.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h2>THE MAVERICK RAID.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Hark!"</p> + +<p>Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd, +a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like +the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the +Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered +rise.</p> + +<p>It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red +Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with—well, +let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his +chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances, +and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead. +Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>be +released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including +confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil +companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention +was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy.</p> + +<p>A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts, +Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They +reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly +shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves +were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute +his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding +bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own +leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the +guardianship of the Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the +signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession. +Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>to. Concentrate +your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once +succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good +as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them +till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open +market."</p> + +<p>"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob.</p> + +<p>"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all +the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in +jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to +carry on their nefarious work."</p> + +<p>For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which +brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily +over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they +cropped the half-dry grass.</p> + +<p>Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger +Patrol, and the boys, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind +their shelter.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the +herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air +for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the +boys as the young steer gave its alarm.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked +restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to +and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric +storms of the Southwest breaks over them.</p> + +<p>"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob.</p> + +<p>"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position +alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!"</p> + +<p>"I don't hear anything," said Merritt.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north."</p> + +<p>"You mean that sort of trampling sound?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt.</p> + +<p>"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're +coming this way."</p> + +<p>The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in +volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs +approaching at a smart gallop.</p> + +<p>"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle.</p> + +<p>"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach," +commented Harry.</p> + +<p>"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at +most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they +suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off."</p> + +<p>"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift +uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to +advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high +rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word.</p> + +<p>"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head."</p> + +<p>Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to +gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds.</p> + +<p>"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young +leader had slipped his revolver from its holster.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans +are before giving the alarm."</p> + +<p>"All right. But don't let them give us the slip."</p> + +<p>"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master +Clark Jennings and Company myself."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop."</p> + +<p>"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!"</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang!</p> + +<p>Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the +same instant.</p> + +<p>But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his +anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had +allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle, +thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash +Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back.</p> + +<p>Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud +cheer as they swept forward behind their leader.</p> + +<p>Bang! Bang!</p> + +<p>It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it +sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample +room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard +Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before +the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians.</p> + +<p>"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the +illusion that they were Indians.</p> + +<p>"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our +eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered +with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was +Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward. +"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can."</p> + +<p>With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol +was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a +lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the +rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval.</p> + +<p>The consternation created in the ranks of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>Clark Jennings's raiders by +the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined.</p> + +<p>"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers +here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle, +which were now loping fast toward the mountains.</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?"</p> + +<p>"That's what they've got. Hark at that!"</p> + +<p>A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders, +and this time it sounded closer.</p> + +<p>"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got +to get to the mountains before they close on us."</p> + +<p>A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the +cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened +animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the +constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on +swept the mad advance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted +Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons.</p> + +<p>"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting."</p> + +<p>Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed +over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This +fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and +permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so +close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed +Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers.</p> + +<p>In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact +that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in +Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>the raiders' revolvers, and +a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear.</p> + +<p>"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly.</p> + +<p>The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a +raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body +was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to +aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman.</p> + +<p>"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his +rider out of the race."</p> + +<p>Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came +another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount +collapse under him.</p> + +<p>He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the +pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one +of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and +cheering, the chase swept on.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them, +though. I'd like——"</p> + +<p>"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!"</p> + +<p>The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the +blue.</p> + +<p>Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and +down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his +head.</p> + +<p>"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a +vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode +round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in +front of the boy.</p> + +<p>Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's +head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He +was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h2>CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered +Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to +you, Rob Blake."</p> + +<p>"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of +your conversation."</p> + +<p>"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle +menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here."</p> + +<p>"But you daren't use it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you want to do with me?"</p> + +<p>"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto—see? Now march."</p> + +<p>"Which way?"</p> + +<p>"Toward the mountains."</p> + +<p>"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>began to march off, but +already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity +suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his +pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white +skull—the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a +wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he +was.</p> + +<p>Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a +flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down, +grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle +of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast.</p> + +<p>"Drop that rifle, Clark!"</p> + +<p>The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do +him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead +raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging +sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily +contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open. +As Clark's bullet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the +light trigger.</p> + +<p>Bang!</p> + +<p>The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a +frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as +Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the +pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew +out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was +only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on +one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances +and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a +revolver concealed about him.</p> + +<p>"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr. +Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth."</p> + +<p>At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south. +It was the belated <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness, +sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase.</p> + +<p>"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" came back the hail.</p> + +<p>"Rob Blake. I want to see you."</p> + +<p>"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is +something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings."</p> + +<p>"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!" +growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr. +Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and +his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the +leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground, +nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat.</p> + +<p>"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider. +"Here, Blinky, just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>take a few turns round this fellow with a rope. +Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll +take no chance with so slippery a customer."</p> + +<p>The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene. +Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything," +protested Rob.</p> + +<p>"What, he fired at you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!"</p> + +<p>An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh +wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to +keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's +pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed +cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings.</p> + +<p>"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe +something's happening up ahead."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels.</p> + +<p>It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed. +Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their +ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched +rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations.</p> + +<p>Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices +and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different +lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half +off, giving a grotesque appearance to them.</p> + +<p>The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft, +Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>would say +a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the +cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed +mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting +them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders +no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped +off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their +escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped +lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the +bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or +more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general +inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling +discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found.</p> + +<p>"Who saw him last?" asked Rob.</p> + +<p>"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian."</p> + +<p>"Any one see him since?"</p> + +<p>No, nobody had.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off +in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To +the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound +up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide.</p> + +<p>"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob.</p> + +<p>"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a +prisoner of war."</p> + +<p>"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled +prisoner.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the +fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His +attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as +Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive.</p> + +<p>It was Jack Curtiss!</p> + +<p>Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been +persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would +outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had +taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion. +Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little +knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony +stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his +rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command:</p> + +<p>"Shut up!"</p> + +<p>As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a +fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts. +Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the +rest.</p> + +<p>"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt, +clapping the fat boy on the back.</p> + +<p>"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby, +grandiloquently strutting about.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed +Harry Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Just the same—just the same," rejoined Tubby.</p> + +<p>A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it +was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider +drew rein almost at his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt.</p> + +<p>"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely.</p> + +<p>But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and +spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great +excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the +interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man.</p> + +<p>"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to +the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob.</p> + +<p>"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black +Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp."</p> + +<p>"Is he in danger?"</p> + +<p>"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such +is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me."</p> + +<p>A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man +Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness, +listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's +predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers +remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well +knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly +forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake +dance.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h2>WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed +a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming +torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare +of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep +depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake +dancers.</p> + +<p>In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so +rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced +Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the +frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes +glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above +the fire.</p> + +<p>All at once a low chant arose from the line. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>Its regular rhythm and +booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily +it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the +hills were intoning it.</p> + +<p>As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time +the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated, +which stood behind them.</p> + +<p>Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows +grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one +of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous +ornament—a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler!</p> + +<p>The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed +to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously +than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had +reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was +harmless to him.</p> + +<p>As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism +changed as if by magic. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>The excitement of the dance was upon them. +Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls.</p> + +<p>A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the +onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout, +standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of +his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit. +Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the +weird ritual.</p> + +<p>Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its +wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder, +or desert rattlesnake—a distinct species from the big diamond-back—and +even more deadly.</p> + +<p>Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped +head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it +forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing.</p> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep282.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep282.jpg" width="48%" alt="the boy leaped to his feet" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking +desert rattlesnake.</p> +</div> + +<p>This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians. +One after another the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>young braves cast off their blankets and rushed +forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The +ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp +reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the +odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads.</p> + +<p>In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved +countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some +distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was +half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did +he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand +and foot to a post.</p> + +<p>His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear, +for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back +of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry—for our readers +must have already recognized the Indian agent—never knew less fear than +he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous +tribe, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of +cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the +rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful +than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed +one in that rocky bowl.</p> + +<p>But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled +with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost +similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had +made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation, +but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full +control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the +only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed +powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been +able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger +to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a +voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>mind was busy with intense +speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it +was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian +recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and +what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had +ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his +presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of +many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what +Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently +see.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had +arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new +moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand.</p> + +<p>Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and +began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries +Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished +bronze in the glare <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence +this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His +talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned +and fervid to the last degree.</p> + +<p>Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent +managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that, +as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address.</p> + +<p>Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been +dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on +him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt +one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought +to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals, +they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!"</p> + +<p>Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice +went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned +Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's +horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst."</p> + +<p>He turned his head—the only portion of his body which was free to +move—and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For +hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but +now he had grown quiet.</p> + +<p>"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry. +Which goes to show—in the light of what was to come—that a man can get +"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him.</p> + +<p>Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in +his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in +the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His +whole attitude spoke <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the +horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken.</p> + +<p>All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the +young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at +last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors +who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the +Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at +them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly +rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that +moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with +him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit! +Could they mean to thrust him into that?</p> + +<p>Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round +to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed.</p> + +<p>"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into +speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!"</p> + +<p>If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without +him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to +find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It +should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the +Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr. +Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They <i>might</i> come, but it would be too +late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very +much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul. +He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint.</p> + +<p>"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having +led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him +close to the edge of the pit, which now lay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>between him and the crowd +of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the +glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger +still occupied his same position.</p> + +<p>Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate +was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the +inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution.</p> + +<p>His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was +forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting +began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the +biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest +rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,—an immense creature of +the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long.</p> + +<p>As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's +dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h2>BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the +young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast +the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian +agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or +otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians +gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle.</p> + +<p>It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a +bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate +effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he +realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he +resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to +become endowed with furious rage. It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>lashed its mottled tail, and then +carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the +death strike.</p> + +<p>Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red +glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and +the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to +give greater force to its death blow.</p> + +<p>The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his +a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense +that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a +fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his +courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry.</p> + +<p>It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense +excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act +that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene.</p> + +<p>Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse. +So far as any one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend +in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish +his horse near him in the hour of his doom.</p> + +<p>For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy +matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the +fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set +Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his +former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that +he was free.</p> + +<p>The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his +master's voice.</p> + +<p>While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks, +four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger +alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries +of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled +over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken +ribs. Another's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck.</p> + +<p>Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach +Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill +whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red +men, to the very brink of the fiery pit.</p> + +<p>Overcoming his natural dread of fire—a far greater terror to horses +than almost any other—Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty +leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and +his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time +allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the +opposite side of the pit.</p> + +<p>They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid +glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like +a thunderbolt.</p> + +<p>Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs. +With a yell of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way. +Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an +infernal messenger among them.</p> + +<p>But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one +terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs +of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled +backward.</p> + +<p>Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every +muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his +doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus.</p> + +<p>He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over +backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had +fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and +nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui.</p> + +<p>At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by +the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a +steel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the +poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head +to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a +second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse +whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with +impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in +his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted.</p> + +<p>With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis, +gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the +tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the +fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old +Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the +rocky bowl.</p> + +<p>"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above +the tumult.</p> + +<p>A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a +single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same +pit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond +Snake, was their raging desire.</p> + +<p>"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the +rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl.</p> + +<p>As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a +perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a +solitary horseman.</p> + +<p>A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came +to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he +had appeared.</p> + +<p>"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed +on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the +white man's vengeance!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the +rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had +felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning, +had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his +ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big +bowlder he watched the events that were to follow.</p> + +<p>A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being +the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing +himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to +swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage, +Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly +wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse +plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling +over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted +but a minute.</p> + +<p>A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell, +still fighting, by his master's side.</p> + +<p>At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted +"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>it in +the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing +out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end +of the rock bowl.</p> + +<p>Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were +attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of +the murderous young brave's hand.</p> + +<p>"Hooray!"</p> + +<p>The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake +swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if +their throats would split.</p> + +<p>Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too +terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance. +A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were +drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr. +Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had +been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band +at the lower end of the bowl.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and +cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when +he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say +it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd +never have saved you."</p> + +<p>"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the +place to tell you all how I feel. But, but——"</p> + +<p>His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground. +Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries.</p> + +<p>"Is Ranger seriously hurt?"</p> + +<p>The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the +question.</p> + +<p>"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on +the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though."</p> + +<p>And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he +carried with him to his last <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>days the marks of that night. But his +owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish +spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that +fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner.</p> + +<p>A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment.</p> + +<p>"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing +upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr. +Harkness.</p> + +<p>"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have +come too late."</p> + +<p>"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent +to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two +ago. They must have ridden like the wind."</p> + +<p>Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky +basin, their steaming, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace +they had kept up.</p> + +<p>"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the +young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged. +"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well."</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the +soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the +future."</p> + +<p>"We hope so," said Rob simply.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the +range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went +peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as +their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was +paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time +Mr. Mayberry recovered some of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>his faith in the Indian character, but +even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken.</p> + +<p>Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted +to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments +are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender +neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that +you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered.</p> + +<p>If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is +regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her +fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and +blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's +beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a +mystery to the tribe.</p> + +<p>Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for +their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In +a Western community few more serious crimes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>for obvious reasons, can +be committed than cattle stealing.</p> + +<p>The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones +for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob +had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now +one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A.</p> + +<p>Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the +mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and +proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has +become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona.</p> + +<p>What became of Silver Tip?</p> + +<p>Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge +brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at +length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the +boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face +to face.</p> + +<p>Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>tell? Animals possess many +faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may, +it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven +look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone +upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the +position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter. +Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at +his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon +again.</p> + +<p>"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your +wicked old life."</p> + +<p>Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this.</p> + +<p>"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've +been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now +I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into +one."</p> + +<p>One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces +to be drawn. It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton +Academy.</p> + +<p>And so—as all good things have to draw to a close—the happy, eventful +days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the +exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in +their adventurous lives.</p> + +<p>We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more +stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of +these will be connected with the wonderful new science of ærial +navigation.</p> + +<p>This new installment of their adventures will be called: <span class="smcap">The Boy +Scouts and the Army Airship</span>.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>THE END.</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h3 style="text-decoration: underline;"><b>Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications</b></h3> + +<p class="cen"><i>A postal to us will place it in your hands.</i></p> + + +<p>1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best +standard books published, at prices less than offered by others.</p> + +<p>2. You will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: Poetry, +Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion, +Biography, Drama, etc., besides Dictionaries and Manuals, Bibles, +Recitation and Hand Books, Sets, Octavos, Presentation Books and +Juvenile and Nursery Literature in immense variety.</p> + +<p>3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as +low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in +cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit +the tastes of the most critical.</p> + +<p>4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our +<span class="smcap">Special Discounts</span>, which we offer to those whose purchases are +large enough to warrant us in making a reduction.</p> + +<p class="cen">HURST & CO., <i>Publishers</i>, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>BOY SCOUT SERIES</h2> + +<p class="cen">BY<br /> + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON<br /> + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS<br /> + +Cloth Bound — Price, 50¢ per volume.</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.</b></p> + +<p>A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become +part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with +this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys +of all ages and in all parts of the country.</p> + +<p>While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting +adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his +companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous +things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of +most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome +every one of their dangers and difficulties.</p> + +<p>How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the +patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their +disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil +a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the +book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and +breathless incident.</p> + +<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br /> + +Hurst & Co., — Publishers — New York</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>BOY SCOUT SERIES</h2> + +<p class="cen">BY<br /> + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON<br /> + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS<br /> + +Cloth Bound, — Price 50¢ per volume.<br /> +<br /></p> + +<p class="cen"><b>The Boy Scouts on the Range.</b></p> + +<p>Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was +a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts? +The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle +thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in +grave difficulties.</p> + +<p>There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other +tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast +vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books +hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among +the Moquis.</p> + +<p>Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim +figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant +grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as +gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The +boy is weaponless and,—but it would not be fair to divulge the +termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and +place upon their shelves to be read and re-read.</p> + +<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br /> + +Hurst & Co., — Publishers — New York</p> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<hr /> +<h2>Bungalow Boys Series</h2> +<br /> +<p class="cen">BY<br /> + +DEXTER J. FORRESTER<br /> + +<span class="smcap">New Modern Stories of Outdoor Life.</span><br /> + +Cloth Bound — Price, 50¢ per volume.</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS.</b></p> + +<p>The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of +Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the +big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in +these volumes.</p> + +<p>The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the +region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor, +turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies +even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable +neighbors in more senses than one.</p> + +<p>For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys' +quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil +companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever +manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave +difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is +imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily +drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally +proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for +a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the +book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character.</p> + +<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br /> + +HURST & CO., — Publishers — NEW YORK.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>Dreadnought Boys Series</h2> +<br /> +<p class="cen">BY<br /> + +Capt. WILBUR LAWTON.<br /> + +<b>Modern Stories of the New Navy.</b><br /> + +Cloth Bound — Price, 50¢ per volume.</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.</b></p> + +<p>How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime +town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their +anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you +would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their +country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those +steel walls?</p> + +<p>There are no books published which will tell you more of the new +navy,—of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries +and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of +the naval seaman's life, than these volumes.</p> + +<p>In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong +and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they +have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his +fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set +themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and +fast. At target practice Herc—by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a +living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret +of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their +longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books +for real boys.</p> + +<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br /> + +HURST & CO., — Publishers — NEW YORK.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>Motor Rangers Series</h2> +<br /> + +<p class="cen">By MARVIN WEST<br /> + +OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES <span class="smcap">for</span> MODERN BOYS<br /> + +Cloth Bound — Price, 50¢ per volume.</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.</b></p> + +<p>A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile +fiction,—the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters +in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and +mysterious land of Lower California.</p> + +<p>Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which +proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,—occupies much of the +interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so +powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost +to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading.</p> + +<p>In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the +haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of +the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula.</p> + +<p>The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys, +which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination +for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books.</p> + +<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br /> +Hurst & Co., — Publishers — New York</p> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<hr /> +<br /> +<h2>The Oakdale Series</h2> + +<p class="cen">By Morgan Scott<br /> + +HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS<br /> + +Cloth Bound. — Illustrated. — Price, 60¢ a Volume</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>Ben Stone at Oakdale</b></p> + +<p class="cen">BY MORGAN SCOTT</p> + +<p class="cen">12<span class="smcap">mo.</span>, CLOTH. — ILLUSTRATED. — PRICE 60¢</p> + +<p>Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this +class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the +Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers +market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in +price, can these be designated as cheap books; in manufacture, in +literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of +the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters +of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of +school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a +spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find +it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of +the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy +misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all; +and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the +seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy.</p> + +<p class="cen">FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD,<br /> OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60¢ +BY<br /> + +HURST & COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK</p> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<hr /> +<h2>The Oakdale Series</h2> + +<p class="cen">By Morgan Scott<br /> + +High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys<br /> + +Cloth Bound — Illustrated — Price, 60 cents a Volume</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><b>Boys of Oakdale Academy</b></p> + +<p class="cen">by Morgan Scott<br /> + +12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60¢</p> + +<p>This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter +sports—snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such—are features. In +the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and +attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads, +who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and +talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing +and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent +sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually, +through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow +from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective +manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village. +This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes; +it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is +as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure.</p> + +<p class="cen">For sale wherever books are sold,<br /> or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60¢ +by<br /> + +Hurst & Co., 395 Broadway, New York</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Transcriber's Note</p> +<br /> + +Some inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in +the original document has been preserved.<br /> +<br /> +Typographical errors corrected in the text:<br /> +<br /> +Page 26 Samuri changed to Samurai<br /> +Page 89 struck changed to stuck<br /> +Page 113 Charlie changed to Charley<br /> +Page 151 croked changed to croaked<br /> +Page 206 Jenning's changed to Jennings's<br /> +Page 226 earthern changed to earthen<br /> +Page 243 fandangoes changed to fandangos<br /> +Page 297 safeest changed to safest<br /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by +Lieut. Howard Payson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE *** + +***** This file should be named 35071-h.htm or 35071-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/0/7/35071/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Howard Payson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range + +Author: Lieut. Howard Payson + +Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE + BOY SCOUTS ON + THE RANGE + + + + + BY + LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + + + + + NEW YORK + HURST & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + + Copyright, 1911, + BY + HURST & COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER 5 + + II. NEWS OF THE MOQUIS 23 + + III. THE DESERT WATER HOLE 38 + + IV. SILVER TIP APPEARS 54 + + V. AT THE HARKNESS RANCH 65 + + VI. A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER" 75 + + VII. THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE 87 + + VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD 100 + + IX. THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE 112 + + X. THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING 125 + + XI. CAPTURED BY MOQUIS 137 + + XII. TUBBY'S PERIL 148 + + XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED 161 + + XIV. A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER 172 + + XV. WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT? 185 + + XVI. BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO 195 + + XVII. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY 205 + + XVIII. THE INDIAN AGENT 220 + + XIX. BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT 233 + + XX. THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL 246 + + XXI. THE MAVERICK RAID 257 + + XXII. CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE 269 + + XXIII. THE WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE 280 + + XXIV. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 291 + + + + +The Boy Scouts on the Range. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER. + + +Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy +arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills +clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten +solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines--the +branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into +the white solitudes of the dry country. + +Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns, +overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place +of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the "great sandy." +These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the +deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn +by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,--which has been not inaptly +compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it--makes its slow way. + +Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range +of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges--after much bumping through +scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry +arroyos--at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San +Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little +desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and +mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud--the Santa Catapina Range. + +The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants +of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before +referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward +cars there emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive +settlement. + +The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends +addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the +Eagle Patrol--the first volume of this series--have met before. His +companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the +rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island, +from which village all three, in fact, came. + +"Well, here we are at Mesaville." + +Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings +opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him. +Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several +figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on +the rail, as the train rolled in. + +As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage +exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed +from the porch-rails as if by machinery, and their several owners bent +forward in a frank stare at the newcomers. + +"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby. + +"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt +mischievously. + +"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as +the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter. + +The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was +clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness--at whose invitation they had +come to this part of the country--had advised them to buy. But as they +still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their +generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel +Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of +the latter. + +Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that +book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I., +and how it had been effected. How the boys of the patrol had many +opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably +was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys' +enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable +old town character, were implicated. + +It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their +home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a +stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his +son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London, +whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for +their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness +invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What +adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time +it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept +it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended, +resumed its school term early in the fall. + +Just at this time, however, something happened which was very welcome +to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the +foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be +unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It +was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had +come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the +boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day +on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of +their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip. + +Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's +son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and +rolled out again without his putting in an appearance. + +"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby, +pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro +River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle +of mud-colored water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The +boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it. + +"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more +than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till +to-morrow morning, anyhow." + +Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel +and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and +plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the +dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of +Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel. + +"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on +which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it, +too." + +"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob. + +"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was +made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. He +had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room. + +"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're +waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over." + +Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums +entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which +floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an +investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned. +It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as +if he was enjoying it. + +On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and +Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the +flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows +in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching +the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their +somewhat personal remarks. + +"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks when he grows up," +grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their +seats. + +"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to +eat his soup. + +A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense, +either. + +The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened, +and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot." + +"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came +in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of +sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for +heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated +in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration +in the same inconspicuous place. + +As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught +against Tubby's shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration. + +"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young +cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?" + +"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I +reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness +to the table's approval of this primitive humor. + +Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up +trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers +were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering +went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese +attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and +left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were +shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who +found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their +meal, but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought +him. + +It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two +sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately +trying to aggravate them. + +Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in +their remarks. + +"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the +boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the +condensed milk can. + +"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand. + +"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys." + +"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark." + +"What, Jess?" + +"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East." + +"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?" + +The youth addressed by his companion as Jess looked straight at Rob as +he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly +deserted him with a rush. + +"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They +grow-and-they-grow-right." + +Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes +opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane +signal foretells a storm. + +"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin, +"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see +to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take +their bibs off." + +They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly +cool as ice, stopped them. + +"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?" + +"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air +of self-importance. + +"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly +brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees. + +"How's that?" + +"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever +told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not +natural, and certainly not the other thing." + +Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the +fresh kid," but his companion drew him away. + +"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he +said, as they left the room. + +As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter. + +"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two +discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it." + +The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came +forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with +a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored +mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features. + +"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad." + +"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone. + +"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the +toughest boys in the country." + +"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby. + +"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his +sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please." + +He extended a yellow palm. + +"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket. + +"Three dollars and six bits." + +"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?" + +"That's the charge, stranger." + +Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange +for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions +of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together +with three cups of muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of +curiosity gripped him. + +"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked. + +"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He +seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears. + +"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any." + +"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that +settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault, +is it?" + +There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to +the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There +was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing +across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big +rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in +the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by +the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy +lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon proclaimed that he was off, and +Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when +there came a sudden interruption. + +Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory +voice addressed him: + +"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out." + +The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him, +with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell. + +"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like +a gentleman,--then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to +you." + +"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?" + +"I hope I am one, yes." + +"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going +to give me that chair?" + +"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here +till I get ready to get up." + +"Then I'll have to help you out----Ouch!" + +The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had +bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from +the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed +from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of +fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled +backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of +the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation +recorded. + +"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord +from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy +book the extortion practiced on the boys. + +Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and +Merritt began to realize what was happening. + +His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then +reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob, +but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart +forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the +weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the +middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the +excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his +back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of +constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched +fists. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +NEWS OF THE MOQUIS. + + +"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a +resounding thwack. + +Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his +friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden +detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure. + +"Hold on there. We want fair play." + +It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his +belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had +altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two +young cow-punchers. + +"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet. + +"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with +excitement. + +"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," said Rob, a grim look +creeping over his usually pleasant face. + +A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further +conversation. + +"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher, +one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus. + +"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion," +grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing +Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment. + +"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less +melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here." + +"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to +fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt. + +"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that +fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's +belt. + +But there was no need of the warning. Rob had seen the blow coming +halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul +tactics thoroughly enraged him. + +"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the +astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark +could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive. + +Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just +how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air. +His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor. +Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he +reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same +instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go. + +Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher +followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob +yelled triumphantly: + +"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given +you." + +So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed +chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great +physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had +seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the +Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had +just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor, +who in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But +to the cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat +had been little short of marvelous. + +They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and +this time he remained in undisputed possession of it. + +"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group. + +Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young +cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached +Rob. + +"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar +contraption?" + +"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about +the corners of his lips. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The +assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure, +however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark +Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and +stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face +as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly: + +"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?" + +"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark. + +"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on +his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?" + +"Help you out--how?" + +"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him." + +"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted +in spite of himself. + +"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning." + +"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to +get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted +Jess. + +"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings +promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral. + +Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a +sudden swirl of dust. + +"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the +first to notice the approaching column of dust. + +"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you +was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?" + +"Yes, you did," said Rob. + +"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have a bear-cat of a team in to +kick up all that smother." + +Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow +swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind +them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high +seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron +foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up +river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the +brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon, +with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels +thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm +water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank +nearest the hotel. + +"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as +the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long +whip three or four times round his head and concluded the flourish with +a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot. + +An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating +mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the +single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his +lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet. + +"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets," +laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and +Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged. + +"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in +order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled +up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove; +"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are +out, and----" + +"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes. + +"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the Moquis' reservation is off +a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but----" + +"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge. + +"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher, +who had been an interested listener. + +"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in +town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas +which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and +although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the +reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and +hold a snake dance." + +"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things +with rattlesnakes, don't they?" + +"Well, no white man has ever seen them--or, if he has, never lived to +tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they +do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when +we woke this morning there were only six. Jose, there--hey, Jose, wake +up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the +end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and +found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp." + +"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt. + +"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found +unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the +night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo, +meaning to come back for them." + +"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?" + +A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He +nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the +spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the +faithful Jess Randell. + +"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas +seems to be in to-day--you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us their +little call just this side of the Salt Licks,--why?" + +"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way +to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like +to know whar to expect the varmints." + +"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but +what have you been doing to your eye?" + +"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went +up. + +"What's all the joke,--what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained, +and the young rancher burst into a laugh. + +"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark +Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!" + +"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a +twinkle in his eye. + +"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your +neighbor, too, for a while." + +"How's that?" + +"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin, +an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and +think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have +a bad name." + +As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard +journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend +the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next +morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by +dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last +time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island +coast. How differently were they now situated! + +After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while +Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite occupation--namely, +taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about the little town a +while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as Mesaville was in +common with most towns of the same character, it boasted several low +dens in which the cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen gambled and drank +their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as usual, there came the +same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as their swing doors +opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their blazing interiors +to the quiet, moonlit desert outside. + +As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the +doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings +and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a +tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell +simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away. + +"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is +now." + +The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded. + +"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get +even with him." + +"We can trust you, Jack?" + +"I'll fix him, never fear." + +"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll ride into town ag'in in a +few days and fix you up." + +"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?" + +"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned +out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?" + +"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered +young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he +spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.) + +After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the +clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the +distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his +crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry +and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby +snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his +aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the +railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at the moonlit water. Where the +bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro +collected and formed quite a deep pool. + +"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when +suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned +quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him. +Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep +embankment. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE DESERT WATER HOLE. + + +As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary +impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out +behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge +abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle +fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured. +He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry +ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for +the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the +one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try +as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt +finally, he made his way back to the hotel. + +The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout +leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions. +Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told, +but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it +remained as blank a puzzle as ever. + +"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but +these"--wringing out his wet clothes--"won't let me." + +"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally," +decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a +thing?" + +"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with +this afternoon," suggested Merritt. + +"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob +could have been shoved over," said Harry. + +"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest +way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a +different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he +would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it +before. + +Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed, +Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their +room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as +his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however. +His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned +till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was +dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as +is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could +easily hear every movement made by their neighbors. + +"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation +that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?" + +"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The +kid is one of that bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton." + +"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him +a good crack on the head while you were about it?" + +"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that +bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender +and Handcraft, will attend to them." + +Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one +of the voices,--that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the +bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however, +except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively +the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes, +enjoined him to silence. + +"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped. + +"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy +voice. + +"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!" + +"What!" + +"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the +bank of the river." + +"Whatever can he be doing out here?" + +"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before +we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father +would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks. +Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming." + +"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same +cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their +conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?" + +"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in +the mountains--where we are going, I gathered." + +"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob. + +"Are you going to have Jack arrested?" + +"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a +conversation is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard +sounded so familiar." + +Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from +Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed +to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in +debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising. + +"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say. + +"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion. + +The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night. +He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of +Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first +volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful +of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early +day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed, +they forgot all about Jack and his threats in the bustle of preparation +for their long trip across the waste lands. + +Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the +corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the +mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile, +and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged. + +"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long, +thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap. + +"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold +of one leg, and I'll take the other." + +Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose, +expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight. + +"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry. + +"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a +row of white teeth. + +"We don't need telling that. You are always asleep, except when you're +eating. Get busy now and hitch up." + +Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes +had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have +been suspected in such an easy-going individual. + +The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line +which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys, +but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only +a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others +follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left, +instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings +the team. + +The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the +first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud +cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to +the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his misadventure +of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad +circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas, +blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon. + +Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons +in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were +Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before. +They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances. + +"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the +daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained +fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed +gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the +vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his +yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were +loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat. + +"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as the wagon started off, the +long whip cracking like a gatling gun. + +All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an +occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen. +As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange +sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above +the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange +phenomena of the desert always are. + +As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue, +began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and +rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills +were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense +masses of shadow, marking canyons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking +range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast +there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several +ranges of cattle roamed. + +The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which +grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was +at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose, +at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip +in the foothills. + +"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy +Mexican saunter off. + +"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility +that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so +ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh. + +"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from +under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to +that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full." + +"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place +in one hand," commented the fat boy. + +"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long you'll take digging for +water as a matter of course." + +"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently, +picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt +followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their +noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and +awaited the return of the boys. + +The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the +dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground. + +"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt. + +"Looks like it," agreed Rob. + +But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber. +Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began +tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and +rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew +some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other performance and arose +with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously. + +"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious +Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast +did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been +made in the soft ground. + +"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly. + +Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly +shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!" + +"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby. + +"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with +withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'" + +"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the +stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are." + +"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt. + +"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly. + +"I will." + +Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly +away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his +efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this +time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods +with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this +accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash. + +Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the +pool. + +"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt. + +"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his +mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me." + +"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather +crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo." + +"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed +interpreter. + +"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost +brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by +reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for +bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and +return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water +cleared. + +"Pretty soon him like glass," he said. + +Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was +nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it, +the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a +yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up. + +But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from +Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so, +for outlined against the sky was a startling figure. + +It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs draped in a blanket of +gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an +instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and +then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim +of the depression. + +"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had +appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might +have been a delusion. + +"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and +fearful all of a sudden. + +"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a +cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had +come. + +The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures, +the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by +magic. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SILVER TIP APPEARS. + + +The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were +surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever +known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle +of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have +defended themselves. + +"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by +his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party. + +"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief. + +"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more +boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's +tone. + +"White boys got money?" + +"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby. + +"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily. + +"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob. + +"We want um." + +It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread +over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money +in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet +and some small change in his pockets. + +"Say, what is this--Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having +solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout +youth and extended his dirty palm. + +"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as +the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief +What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you." + +Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not understand this, or it might +have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next, +and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver +coins. + +"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he +dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged +up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined +him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid +pace. + +"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home +we'd call them noble panhandlers." + +"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was +still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money. + +"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from +across the border. + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on +a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the +steep side of the water hole. He picked it up and opened its folds +carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy +stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book." + +"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some +writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to +yesterday is in this." + +"What, Clark Jennings?" + +"The same. Listen!" + +From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows: + +"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'" + +"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't +see the connection, quite." + +"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if +they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew +they were somewhere hereabouts--you remember he asked Harry about them +yesterday. He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them +and bribe them to hold us up." + +"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby. + +"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and +are comparatively well educated." + +"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising +scholars." + +There came a sudden shout from above. + +"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone +almost an hour." + +Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited +boys. + +"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our +change has gone, too." + +When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the +situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to +be done. + +"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said; +"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we +have more money about us and come back after it." + +A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket +of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who +had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the +Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a +sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly +appeared and hailed the boys. + +He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his +sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look +of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt +that here was a man of action and character. + +"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the +mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?" + +"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they----" + +"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby. + +"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano." + +"What! you have been robbed by them?" + +"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets. + +"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian +agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up +without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold +of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are +really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor." + +"Or money," put in Tubby. + +"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob. + +"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas. +Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the +renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the +dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I +must be getting on, and thank you for your information." + +With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his +horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust. + +"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he +seems the right sort of a chap." + +"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon +moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis +have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all +ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in +the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those +fellows." + +"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get +after that bunch of redskins." + +"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically. + +"Why not what?" + +"Why not form a patrol out here? You know we talked about it in the +East in the brief time we had together." + +"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob. + +"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked +Tubby solemnly. + +"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt. + +"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a +fine scout." + +"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get +enough fellows out here to form a patrol?" + +"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted +division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis." + +"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be +splendid!" + +"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby. + +"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me, +Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some boys, and +get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at +that rate." + +"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby. + +"That goes without saying," laughed Rob. + +As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and +rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan. + +The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a +deep canyon, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees +and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped +through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once +Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands" +of rock. + +"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there." + +"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something" +uppermost in every mind. + +"Indians?" gasped Tubby. + +"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal--a huge beast, it +seemed to be." + +As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and +every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect +yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised +the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly +against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception +of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black. + +"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his +rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon. + +As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of +apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The +next instant he was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +AT THE HARKNESS RANCH. + + +"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest +crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us +about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as +a pony." + +"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously. + +"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every +hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of +them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and +the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but +some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?" + +"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with +silver bullet." + +"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted +too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But +in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will +come." + +"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his +day--I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger." + +"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry. + +Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading +from the canyon into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them +suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds, +dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big +cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a +long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it. + +"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an +admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short +time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging +contrivance which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed +the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without +obliging them to dismount. + +Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and +rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted +cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the +grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a +railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and +squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight. + +Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys +recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in +a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features. + +"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch." + +The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to +greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the deck of a +stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals. + +After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr. +Harkness inquired what had delayed them. + +"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and +they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up." + +The face of the rancher grew graver. + +In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of +the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and +the subsequent events. + +"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said +soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the +foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on +them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness." + +"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we +met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them." + +"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher. + +"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he +was the best Indian agent you ever knew." + +"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade +rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning +desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those +trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in, +boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty." + +Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there +had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the +Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls +were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all +about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and +walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now +filled with fresh green boughs. + +"Why--why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly. + +"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the +boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle." + +"The collection is only lacking in one thing--a single item," commented +Rob. + +"Which is----" + +"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly." + +"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the +time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the +conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts. + +"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely. + +Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come +out. + +"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year," +commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's +an additional peril to the cattle." + +"How is that?" inquired Rob. + +"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue +grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do +with any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is +formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of +steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in +another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have +seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush. +The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to +start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about." + +Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to +further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob +determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that +inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned. +Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of +the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on +it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to +give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near +neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled. + +The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the +proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten +o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they +were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three +small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room. + +Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a +clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house +at full speed. + +"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice. + +"It's me--Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the +horseman who had just arrived. + +"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more. + +"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture +to-night." + +"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it--the Indians?" + +"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again." + +"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over +harping on that yet?" + +"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard +the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see +you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and +we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's +always done before." + +"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew +better than to take stock in ghost stories." + +"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close +to home." + +"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost +won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are +chattering like a child." + +"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be +looked into." + +"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you +get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any +ghost stories. Now be off!" + +"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his +pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come +away from it. + +"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near +here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it +looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER." + + +The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the +conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost +of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the +Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it. +Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at +night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds, +but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it. + +After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that +he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning. + +"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have +one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best the +kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them." + +The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A +short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different +sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade +Moquis. + +The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors +and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken +bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a +huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat. +His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze. +Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky." + +"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired. + +"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?" + +"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your +friends fancy?" + +There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics as he asked this, for +the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore +about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they +bore a brand. + +"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc, +or something more on the rocking-horse style?" + +Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had +had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be +called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert +smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood. + +"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly. + +"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not _too_ much life, if you +please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously. + +"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up +the general spirit. + +"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral +gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you." + +The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies +evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race +round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and +left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some +apprehension, but they were too game to say anything. + +"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled +over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post, +leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a +small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging +by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with +life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the +air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck. + +At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let +his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as +it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and +bucking viciously. + +"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the +cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post, +and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle. + +"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob. + +"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?" + +"Same here, I'm in no hurry." + +"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck +me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky." + +After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin, +and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle, +however. + +"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction. + +Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot +in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and +swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing +happened. The boy felt as if an explosion must have occurred directly +beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the +sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the +corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone +in his body was in process of dislocation. + +"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!" + +Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too, +just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about, +several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on +the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle. + +"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker." + +"Go on, boy! Grip her!" + +"Don't go to leather!" + +These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's +ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the +troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a +cockle-burr, and that without "going to leather," or, in other words, +gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand +the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little +brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance, +and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down +and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this. +As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it +struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as +firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new +performance. + +All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was +five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed +inevitable disaster. + +The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out. + +"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought +the boy. + +The next instant the little broncho rose at the fence. The bars rose in +front like an impassable wall. + +"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head. + +But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the +active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs +just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted +on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and +heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show +white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump +card and lost. + +"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides. + +Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward +the corral gate--a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin +owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the +cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them +by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off his hat and waved it three times +round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from +this little bit of braggadocio. + +"Yip-ee!" he yelled. + +"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was +going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but--all's well that ends +well." + +"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild +West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder +of the conquered buckskin. + +"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly. + +"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster, +boy!" + +"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob. + +Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight +of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had +been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each +provided with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their +heads. + +"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a +big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's. +He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up +the others and issue a call for a meeting." + +The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for +a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy +Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and +Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank +Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton. + +All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the +day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys +wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and +his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no +difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the +case. Rob had, meanwhile, received a letter from Hampton which reported +the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the +famous Eagles first saw the light. + +The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the +boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were +familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them +fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day. + +Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and +were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account +of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader, +with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill +master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed, +subject to immediate call. + +As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated +widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided +that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts at a given +rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the +boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting, +during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on +a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his +exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house. + +"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into +the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!" + +"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his +account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to +show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and +the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must +head them off!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE. + + +Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses +as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never +witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy +Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle +their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole +affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying +it all. Each man knew what was required of him. + +At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last +holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last +expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse +somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what +had occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their +course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous +bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to +their death. + +Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various +obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every +inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than +half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and +other harness details. + +Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been +about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept +forward. + +"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of +hoofs, in Harry's ear. + +"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble." + +Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers +shouting to another. + +"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?" + +"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole +stampede came lambasting on top of him." + +The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a +more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to +draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this +would have shown "the white feather." + +"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry, +after an interval of silence among the boys. + +"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the +others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the +boys will be there ahead of us, likely." + +"How about the others?" + +"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's +all over." + +It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of +dust. All about them, as far as the eye could penetrate the dense +smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys. + +"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby. + +"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can +make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there." + +In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the +cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night +before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started +the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in +case they swept over the cliffs. + +"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob. + +"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday +that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess +they won't disperse till after the snake dance." + +Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt. + +"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was +but one question in every mind. + +"Were they in time?" + +As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their +surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of +plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been +cut out of the ground. This drop--which was fully sixty feet +deep,--formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will +be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow +gulch. + +The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau--which was +undoubtedly of volcanic origin--varied from a hundred feet or more to +fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen. + +But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the +crowd of stampede arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a +halt. + +"Hark!" + +From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much +as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew +steadily in volume. + +"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew +louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the +stampede swept toward them. + +Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread +half across the blue sky, wiping it out. + +"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky +critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them." + +But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that +little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of +courage in his body for the struggle that was to come. + +To the boys, as to the men, the situation was clear enough. Across the +plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the +Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face +of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between +this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen. +They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it +into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest +of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on. + +Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys. + +"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you +come. This is too dangerous for you." + +"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested +Harry. + +"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the +danger." + +There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them +with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their +ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly much gratified at the idea of +avoiding the stampede. + +"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside, +and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch." + +As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the +cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild +yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to +the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank +Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt +of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters. + +Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and +awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they +learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak. + +"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons. + +"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico +pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air. +Indeed, all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were +prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of +the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it. + +"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price. + +"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob. + +"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're +not looking," urged Bill Simmons. + +"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness +decisively. + +"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank +Price. + +"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother +Charley reminded him. + +"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient." + +And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out +in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the +vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish line rank. Each puncher +had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they +rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope. + +Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its +approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little +rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of +fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their +horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came +a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror. + +The boys' faces paled as they watched. + +"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!" + +The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the +stampede. + +Bang! Bang! Bang! + +A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at +full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It +was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death. +At the head of his cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces, +rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay. + +Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without +appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush. + +A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in +checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained +between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space +galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save +themselves from a terrible death? + +"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up +in his stirrups. + +The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were +not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to +overtake the brave man and his helpers. + +"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly. + +This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been +firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the +oncoming herd. + +Bang! Bang! Bang! + +Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally +wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after +twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At +last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their +ranks broke and wavered. + +"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!" + +The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd +split up. + +"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!" + +The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and +he turned his pony sharply. + +"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!" + +"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping +off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped +forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his +hold of the reins, fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But +the second's delay had been fatal. + +Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two +sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to +their instinct, to reunite. + +"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought. + +He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of +escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island. +Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two +sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HEMMED IN BY THE HERD. + + +There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more +perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not +have been devised by the utmost ingenuity. + +Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group +of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified +onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves +shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild +cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no +means out of danger. + +With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle +lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres. +Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his +example. + +An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom +was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about +in that part of the country. + +Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to +him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by +the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only +path. + +Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be +taken. + +A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized +what the boy meant to do. + +Leap the gulch on his pony! + +A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark +crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from +what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he +could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling +flanks. + +Crack! + +The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave +a squeal of rage and bounded forward. + +"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob. + +Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to +have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the +active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before +him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width--ten feet or more. A +tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done. + +"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the +maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the +edge of the pit. + +[Illustration: Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.] + +For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of +death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the +leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling, +shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering +boy, give a great leap upward and--alight safe on the farther side of +the chasm. + +Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled +back at his friends. + +Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before. + +The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried +in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into +the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under +their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a +despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished. + +Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized +that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the +fate of the dumb brutes. + +Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and +ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats +breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature +of these half-wild brutes, having had their run out, seemed inclined to +collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among +them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them +and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them +no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of +quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass. + +While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge +of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been +made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid +down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As +the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly +offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang +from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into +the gulch, above where he was crossing. + +"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy. + +He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but +every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved +away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less +of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to +erect new fences constantly. + +By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for +the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts +could not have been imagined. + +"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected +herd. + +"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never +saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource +will never again be necessary." + +"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue +for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse +here, I'd never have done it." + +"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I roped up that four-legged +bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky. + +"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it." + +"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got +through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it +felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like +that again, will you?" + +"Not likely to, Tubby--but why so earnest?" + +"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and----" + +"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions, +reminds me that we haven't had any dinner." + +"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone +that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on +an air of innocence and rode apart. + +"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far +Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles. +If you boys think you can hold out we can ride over there, and we can +have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?" + +"Down to the ground," said Rob. + +"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his +assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a +meal. + +"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of +approval. + +"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook +us up a fine feed." + +"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone. + +"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those, +too." + +"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony +up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand. + +"Yes--Soapy Sam; what of it?" + +"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby. + +"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with +it?" + +But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and +loud outcries were getting the steers in motion. + +Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough +country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far +Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired +cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp +like a swarm of locusts. + +Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist, +flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of +monotonous chorus: + + "Chick-chock-we-want Chuck! + Chuck-chuck we want chuck! + Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!" + +What's the luck? + +As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots +were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that +staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The atmosphere was redolent with +those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks +and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had +ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way. + +"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch +of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing +punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat." + +"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys. + +"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you +fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and +swopping lies." + +"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one. + +"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come +up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'" + +Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment +by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons boys and +the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys +dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled +their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring +was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time +this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the +bottom of a tin pan with a spoon. + +"Grub!" yelled the cowboys. + +"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula. + +Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member +of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried +potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar +devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of +coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he +plaintively asked for some of that fluid. + +"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see." + +"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?" + +A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query. + +"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr. +Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee +straight, in the regular range way." + +And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning, +rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were +destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires," +but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the +cloudless Arizona sky on the open range. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE. + + +The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were +pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a +while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was +to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill +at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At +first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it. + +"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry, +"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing +a night watch over restive cattle?" + +"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that +I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, and +you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into +mischief." + +"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the +victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of +laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and +waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies +and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the +boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton +were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone +to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four +punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to +keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive +during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully +occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their +guardians constantly near them. + +"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my name is Blinky Small," +declared Blinky emphatically. + +The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find +this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other +means of diversion. + +"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly. + +"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt. + +"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob. + +"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by +the laughter Rob's comment aroused. + +"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?" + +"Where's the ball?" + +"Where are the mitts?" + +"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the +tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big +league collection of stuff?" + +"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of," +said Jeb Cotton. + +"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity. +You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?" + +The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at +least four pounds. + +"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do--brain us?" + +"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically. + +"Couldn't what?" + +"Brain you." + +"Why?" + +"Haven't got any." + +"Any what?" + +"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance. + +"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly. + +"What, the pip?" + +"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments +on Tubby's inspiration. + +"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and +gentlemen, and see the eighth--or ninth wonder of the world--Rob Blake +has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away." + +"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the +laughter at his expense had subsided. + +"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving +them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat----" + +He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke. +However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had +prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs. +One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy +Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire +party from his premises. + +"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?" + +"Go swimming," laughed Merritt. + +"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly. + +"He's got it again--a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby. + +"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave +dwellings?" + +"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys +who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed +to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a +vanished race, but they didn't say so. + +"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up +there and back," said Frank Price. + +Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start. + +"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly. + +"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a +stampede we were called out on." + +The others had done likewise. + +"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of +taking guns with us?" + +"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill +Simmons. + +"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily +remarked the fat youth. + +"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you +scared?" + +"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and +make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby. + +"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an +answer. + +"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry. + +And such was the general opinion. + +As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave +dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture +cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered +sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant +cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain--a slab +some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the +base. + +From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle +trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth +cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees +almost--so far as they could judge--to a point near the summit, and +afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff. + +An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the +mountain--or high hill--which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost +in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty +feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the +cave-dwellers' mysterious homes. + +"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice +"no cave man's home for us." + +It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a +sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave +dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon +holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been +said, all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the +distance. + +"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby. + +"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger +brother. + +"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front +door bells any other way." + +"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob, +who was looking about carefully--"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he +exclaimed suddenly, "look!" + +He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps +cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however, +that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy +Scout leader. + +"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of +the cliff. + +"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob. + +Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down +which one false step would have sent its maker plunging like a loosened +stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and, +with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the +precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock. + +It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling +to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and +the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed +but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors." + +Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the +ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed +him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf. + +"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as +he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the +exertion of his climb. + +"You ought to have been an undertaker, Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All +you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts." + +"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at +going into one of those holes," parried Tubby. + +"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not +much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod +passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence, +too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their +voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization +long passed to ashes. + +"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys, +followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the +rocky portal of the first of the dwellings. + +A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces. + +"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing +it. + +"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt. +Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark passage, +almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the +joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like +the ghost of a baby's whisper. + +"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt. + +"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly. + +"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it +there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the +way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry." + +"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here." + +The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his +waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a +hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were +marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the +long-vanished cave-dwellers. + +Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, that entered their eyes, +ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of +them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his +attention elsewhere. + +"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate----" began Tubby, when his words +were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence. + +A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them +down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It +was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they +stood plunged into sudden blackness. + +The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice +of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts, +and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled +shriek. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING. + + +"L-l-let's get out of here--_quick_!" + +Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious +sounds swept by. + +"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly. + +"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons. + +"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet, +will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and +it was nothing to get scared at." + +"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a +bang on the nose." + +"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton. + +"And me----" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him. + +"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a chance? All that racket was +caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats." + +"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully. + +"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one." + +Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw +lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged +cave-dwellers. + +"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the +cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw." + +"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth +were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into +the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth. + +"Yes, ghosts are----" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His +mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two +big marbles. "Great hookey--what's that?" + +His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances +in the candle-lit circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of +the Boy Scouts. + +"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton. + +"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back. + +"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in +its holster. "It's the wind or something." + +"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's +got feet--hark!" + +Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it +distinctly--a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage. + +"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels. +His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking +dust. + +Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring +at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points +of fire. + +"Who's there?" he cried sharply. + +There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved. + +"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy. + +"A-choo-oo-o--o-o-o-o-o!" + +The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose +nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant +an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors--a cry so terrible +that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely. + +He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six +spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl +more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there +was the sound of a heavy body falling. + +"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded +cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft, +the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of +him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back, +and avoided it by a hair's breadth. + +"A mountain lion!" cried Harry. + +"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've +laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like +this would look white against the cliff face." + +"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who +had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny +creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive +act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places. + +"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in +here proves a mighty interesting fact." + +"And that is, that it's dead." + +"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it +without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to +this place somewhere." + +"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton. + +"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of +the cave, yet this lion is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its +food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the +cave." + +"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly. + +"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt. + +"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion, +"shall we go on or turn back?" + +"We'll go on!" shouted everybody. + +"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby. + +With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party +therefore pressed on into the darkness. + +"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which +not much was left. + +"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry. + +"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong +to try to find a way out this way." + +He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were +behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young +explorers had placed themselves in a predicament. + +Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer +at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward. +Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened, +and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the +tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment. + +Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new +alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a +sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden +"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust. + +The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard +a sharp report somewhere outside. + +Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled +back into the tunnel. + +"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby. + +"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt. + +"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians, +but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move, +fired. I'm going to try to find out." + +"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt. + +"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got." + +Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to +use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob +pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole. + +Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal. + +"Bang!" + +Rob drew in the hat and examined it. + +"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid." + +A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown. + +"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be +able to shoot like that." + +"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when +I looked out." + +"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the +Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he +began to whimper. + +"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they +get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of +it." + +"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob. + +"Huh?" + +"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again." + +"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?" + +"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by +those Indian bullets." + +"But supposing they follow us?" + +"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob. + +"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall +walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at +our heels?" + +"It's all we can do, isn't it?" + +"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the +sooner we start the better." + +"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry +brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set +fire to it. + +"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby. + +"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing +at us, will see it and think we are still there." + +Rob nodded approvingly. + +"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel. +He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so +fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the +other end it was dark, and the stars were shining above them. Far below +they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers +were keeping watch. + +"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the +ledge. "I'm hungry." + +"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the +quicker we'll get some hot supper." + +As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of +gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of +a shout. + +"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody, +quick!" + +A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys +press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed. + +"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said. + +It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into +black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them. + +Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained behind with drawn revolver. +He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out +of the tunnel. + +"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the +rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff. + +"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be +up before----" + +He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the +night. + +Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under +him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff. + +The next instant--for the whole thing happened in the wink of an +instantaneous photographic shutter--Tubby was gone. + +With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of +the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth. +Below him was utter blackness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +CAPTURED BY MOQUIS. + + +Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had +reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath +them. It was Merritt who first found his voice. + +"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?" + +"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat +on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void. + +"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly. + +"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him. + +The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his +excitement. + +"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?" + +"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry +up and get me out of this; I'm hungry." + +"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as +he is in." + +"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was +falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how +long it'll bear me." + +"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly +daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the +mere vibration of his voice. + +"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his +way along his slender aerial perch. + +Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal. + +"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as +quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again. +Bring ponies and ropes with you--all you can get of them, and maybe +Blinky and some of the men had better come." + +"All right, Rob. But how about you?" + +"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now." + +"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were +making full speed to the camp. + +"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone. + +"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this +tree." + +"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as +we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a +life." + +"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck." + +"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they +can get ponies up that trail." + +"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer." + +"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?" + +"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this +tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right." + +"What! You've been moving about?" + +"Sure. I've got to have something to do." + +The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as +the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end. + +"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the +meaning of fear." + +Then he went on aloud: + +"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false +move might send you off into space." + +"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy +tone. + +"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he +were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult." + +For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the +difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the +recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing +them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind--displaced by +Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a bound, which +almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby. + +A hand had been placed on his shoulder. + +Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth +and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face, +the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen +cruel countenances. + +How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The +simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the +soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest +difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was +Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth +of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers. + +"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought. + +But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled +to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a +shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate as plain as print to any +Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off. + +The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly +but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy. +Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of +escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly. +Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have +been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of +their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter +still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging +alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for +the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had +been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye. + +On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along +the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the +carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and it was not long before they +emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary +marksman who had made a sieve of his hat. + +At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then +started forward on a steady jog-trot once more. + +"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in +the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the +circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like +this." + +It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little +of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by +noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the +star-sprinkled sky. + +Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over +rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the +boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same +time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears. +Before many moments had passed, they came in sight of several tepees, +pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible, +canyon. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them. +Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping +at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill +screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the +tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to +meet the returning redskins. + +"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could +say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel +better." + +As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by +a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him +inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with +red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee +covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy +with a piercing eye for a moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to +another tepee, and gave some sort of an order. + +Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had +brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung +roughly into the tepee. + +"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of +his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of +entrance into the patched and smoky tent. + +"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's +a strange experience--captured by real Indians. That's more than any of +the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow." + +No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of +the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him. + +His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West +show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village, +as he watched it busily moving about him. The savory smell of the +Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of +emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food. + +"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself, +"especially after the way they chucked me in here." + +When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes +and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob +began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty, +and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by +hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks. + +"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought +the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and +marched out. + +For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No +attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and +the boy reached the bank of the stream without the slightest +interference being opposed to his movements. + +"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me." + +He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank +of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly: + +"White boy, come back!" + +The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably +Indian. + +Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming +rifle-barrel. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +TUBBY'S PERIL. + + +"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him." + +Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help, +peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain. + +"He can't have gone over, too." + +It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility. + +"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!--below +there--are you all right?" + +"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and +you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind." + +"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as +the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a +loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner. + +"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had +brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying +them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been +informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve +him. + +A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was +not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To +haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the +summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that +great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face. +The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder +that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them. + +Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a +turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found +about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice. + +"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end +of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach." + +He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it +rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear +it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung. + +"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the +darkness and tentatively swinging the rope. + +"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady +as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream. + +"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy +goat sometimes," muttered the puncher. + +"How's that?" he asked a minute later. + +"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it." + +"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You +might lose your balance, and----" + +He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at the other end of the rope. +Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks +told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the +loop fast about him. + +"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator +runner: + +"Go--ing up!" + +"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle +shaken now that the crucial moment was near. + +He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he +extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on." + +"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt. + +"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from +below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them." + +"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus. + +"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with +all your might. That boy's a heavy load." + +"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry +Harkness. + +"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand +his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark, +you know." + +The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the +cliff edge. + +"All right?" he shouted down. + +"All right!" rejoined Tubby. + +Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the +rope. + +"Haul away, boys," he ordered. + +A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the +lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it. + +"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly. + +"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word. + +"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped. + +"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice. + +"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:-- + +"Pull away, boys." + +Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or +more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky. + +"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher. + +Instantly the hoisting ceased. + +"Now, what is it, Tubby?" + +"I just thought of something." + +"What?" + +"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?" + +"Never mind that now. Are you all right?" + +"Yes, except my knees." + +"Ha-ul a-way." + +The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat +boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge. + +As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his +gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck +Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of +the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the +thought flashed across his mind before a shout of alarm came from the +boys, simultaneously with a sharp: + +Crack! + +"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree. + +"It's broken!" + +Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope +began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted. +Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone. + +"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself +onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a +feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending +Tubby's weight. In another moment--for he obstinately refused to let +go--he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened. + +"Hooray! I've got it." + +The shout came in Merritt's voice. + +The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and +secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As the +knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree, +this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff +both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death. + +"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses. + +"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!" +hailed Merritt back. + +"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been +for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by +lightening express, too." + +As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher +had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the +meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action. + +The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope +breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into +a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up +a cheerful: + +"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost +jolted the daylights out of me." + +"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the +puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened. + +"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an +interval of hauling. + +"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me." + +"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers. + +The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to +get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser, +but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a +move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached +the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his +feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker +object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of +humming. It was Tubby crooning to himself as he swung on the end of the +frail rope: + + "See-saw! see-saw! + On a s-um-mers day!" + +"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as +he heard. + +He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist. + +"How's your nerve, Tubby?" + +"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response. + +"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I +want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just +two minutes. Think you can do it?" + +"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth. + +"Yes, or----" + +"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him. + +"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to +his mouth, he shouted upward: + +"Haul away! Slow, now!" + +He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through +them. + +"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound +as a ship's cable." + +Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge. + +"Stop!" roared Blinky. + +He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout +boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him--he could have, that is if +Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock +face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the +ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with +four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover, +in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with, +and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the +other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore--necessity being the mother +of invention--he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall +soon see. + +"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the +cow-puncher. + +"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up. + +"All right, then, grab it--and in Heaven's name, hold on!" + +With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the +rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders. +The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between +him and eternity. + +Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope +around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized +the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip. + +"Haul!" he bellowed. + +The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles. + +"Stop!" + +The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge, +while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists. + +"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing every muscle till they +seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became +contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck +and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the +stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer. + +"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost +lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied +sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the +cow-puncher's arms. + +"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement, +dragging him back. + +"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy +sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A FRIEND IN NEED. + + +"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction. +"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had +imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again." + +The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him +stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would +have shown on the features of a mask. + +"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me, +old chap. I'm going to bed." + +If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and +solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay +down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him. + +"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and +in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as +if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house. + +It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent +flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian +girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish. + +"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets. + +"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet +heard in the Indian camp. + +"Who are you?" + +"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming +dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been +placed. + +"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat." + +"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had +been named after some white Susy Jane. + +"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," remarked Rob, between +mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in +it. + +"Um! Me with Wild West show one time." + +"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?" + +"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place." + +"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?" + +"Maybe." + +"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief +silence. + +"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation. + +"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?" + +"No beans--beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round +neck--savee?" + +Rob nodded. + +"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?" + +"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head +vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows. + +A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's +vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to +work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he +knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself. + +"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,--you know?" he asked. + +"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money +for you. Have big dance." + +"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that +case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely." + +"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of +beads--fine ones, like white ladies wear?" + +The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these +unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea. +Presently her face clouded over, however. + +"How can?" she asked. + +"Me give um you." + +"You?" + +"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but +you have got to do something for me." + +"What that?" + +"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night." + +The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her +refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised +beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then +sprang up, radiant once more. + +"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very +sick. I get you his pony." + +"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about +you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know." + +"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very +old man. Pony very old, too--plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think +pony bust 'em and get away." + +Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in +no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on +to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for +the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event +of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape +would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to +carry it out as soon as possible. + +How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning +of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort +he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night +would never come. + +Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her +moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition. +Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had +been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a +fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve his doubts. Suspense +was all that was left for him. + +As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse. + +"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night," +thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat, +blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat +slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players +ceased and went to their tepees. + +By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and +apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch +the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they +did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert +and awake to the slightest move on his part. + +"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting +himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any +time since his capture. The camp was now as silent as a country +graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional +crackle of an ember falling to ashes. + +Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of +his tepee. + +Surely the flap had moved. + +After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly +rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the +gloom of the shelter. + +"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony." + +"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath. + +Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In +another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky. + +"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark +fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could, +but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which +snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread. + +Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They +looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob, +crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they +were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they +contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual, +resumed their statue-like vigil. + +"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's +cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and +managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another +alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the +encampment. + +Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which +several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled. +Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she +had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles. + +Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, and the other on its +withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second. + +"Which way I go?" he whispered. + +"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find +trail." + +"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget +the beads." + +"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan. + +"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured +her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little +animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It +was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was +given. + +"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the +pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little +animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow, +Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and----" + +Crash! + +The little pony had done just what Rob dreaded. Nimble as it was, a +loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees +with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series +of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy. + +The alarm had been given. + +Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused +shooting. + +Bang! Bang! + +"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope +hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding +"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever +you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER. + + +Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely +stumble. + +"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them," +thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet." + +Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy +pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of +the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their +earshot. + +It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark +night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the +uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in +his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch of +chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his +pony's back. + +Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch. + +"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony +half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs +splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back +on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what +there was of it, set toward him. + +Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense +satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he +had first heard them. + +"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would +only come along----" + +But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not +dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a +book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only +salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden +heart leap, as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek. + +A shrill cry sounded close behind him. + +Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had +approached him so nearly? + +The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again. + +"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!" + +"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's +another answering it--and by George! there's another!" + +From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the +owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the +unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the +steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears. + +"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!" + +As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise. +To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy +showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in +full flight hummed close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a +sharp report behind him. + +Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and +began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in +front of the escaping white boy. + +He was hemmed in by Indians! + +The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness +had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful +woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering +him and surrounding him. + +For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed +by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on +over the rise. + +The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the +approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on +every side of the boy. What was he to do? + +One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in +his extremity. If all went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as +they were to deceive. + +Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of +pinon trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his +surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp. +But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the +very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped +that the pony would trot forward. + +The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that +Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a +desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and +discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians +wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they +shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took +them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his pinon trees. + +Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the +white boy had served craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was +then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew +that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have +stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite +direction to their desired quarry. + +And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of +their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their +mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a +hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him. + +Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the +darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without +food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob, +nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and +through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced. + +Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or +mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground +was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over an acclivity as +steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took +might be leading him farther and farther astray. + +"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good +flat stone would do." + +Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a +flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready +couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun +which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw +over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place. + +Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till +the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by +daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had +not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind +a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension, +when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his +journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep slope dropped +down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while +in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it +without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones. + +But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else +suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of +frying bacon! + +Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was +camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout, +but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the +boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself +from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy +screen. + +Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was +frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation +point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance +from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them +turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to +uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw +the man's features. + +It was Hank Handcraft. + +The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once +luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably +Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was +Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and +the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu +jitsu--Clark Jennings. + +"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to +light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch." + +"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank. + +"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis +now." + +"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was a great idea, dressing up +like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those +sheep off his pastures." + +"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted +Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same +time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the +East--your old pals, Bill." + +"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The +best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack +Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it. +If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank +and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken +country." + +"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since +you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of +Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money." + +"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon +on a hunk of bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob +half crazy to watch. + +"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the +scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have +our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow." + +"That would look good to me," grunted Hank. + +"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to +steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak +of turning them out in the Far Pasture." + +"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take +poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well." + +"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark. + +"I guess that's what you'd call it." + +Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their +temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded +their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. Harkness's cattle, Rob had no +doubt, judging by their conversation. + +"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't +want any one trailing us." + +The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled +ponies stood eying them at some short distance. + +"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their +heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what +was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which +screened him. + +With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and +pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very +careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand +rested gave way with a crash. + +Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung +headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late. + +Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring, +rattling landslide of rocks and earth. + +The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's +involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears. + +"What the----" shouted Hank Handcraft. + +"Who is----" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and +cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own +fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three +of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their +fire. + +"It's a bear!" yelled Hank. + +"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet +and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!" + +"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it. +"That kid's Rob Blake." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT? + + +But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder, +it was dashed down by Clark Jennings. + +"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?" + +Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded +the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash +for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled, +near at hand. + +"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he +reached. + +Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and +half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged +forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an +abrupt turn in the trail. + +"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender. + +"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after +things. Come, Bill--quick--the ponies!" + +In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail +in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad. + +"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?" + +Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail. +Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount. + +"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion +it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely. + +"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?" + +"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our +voices. Say, Clark, what if--what if he did hear?" + +"Then Harkness will find out everything." + +"Yes, if----" + +"Well, if what?" + +"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame +it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the +redskins did it, anyhow." + +Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion. + +"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted +Bill. + +"That's right, too. Do you think you could----" + +Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for +him to voice. + +"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're +hitting up a hot pace for good shooting." + +"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met." + +"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill. +"Hark!" + +Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of +them suddenly slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it +could not have been more than a few feet ahead. + +"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day +was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever. + +Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the +leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was +followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body +had fallen. + +Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to +dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms +assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a +second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A +second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was +mingled with curses. + +"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly. + +"Come here." + +"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I----" + +"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of." + +Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged +his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted, +and was standing over a dark, still object in the road. + +It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly. + +It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet. + +"But the b-b-boy, is he----" stuttered Clark. + +"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill. + +"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone. + +"Yes, clean wiped out." + +"But how?" + +"Ask me an easy one." + +"Hasn't he left a trail?" + +"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane." + +For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat +in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy +rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened +at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished +more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying +by the dead pony. + +Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up +their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made +their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat. + + * * * * * + +At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the +pinon and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's +inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on +a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr. +Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt +Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers. + +The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with +his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been +hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than +would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and +the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off. + +The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing +into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made +a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way. + +Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had +accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on +foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an +Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the +Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy +only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of +those who were searching for him in the darkness. + +With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now +they had reached its termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward +their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and +scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace +had vanished. + +Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers. + +"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes +are plumb cold." + +"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired +Mr. Harkness. + +"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to +tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know." + +"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they +have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor +boy for?" + +"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe +they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long +enough." + +"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the rancher sadly, sitting down +upon an outcropping rock. + +He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his +rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke. + +"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried +off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow +them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable +time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward." + +"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt, +gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol. +Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to +that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off. + +"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason +why we shouldn't go ahead." + +As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though +not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food +supply. + +"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness. + +"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers. + +The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was +suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats +sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the +direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to +see two ponies emerge, carrying three men. + +The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind +the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty, +confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had +expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the +last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO. + + +If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of +Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon +the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to +recover his voice. + +"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?" + +"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness," +spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that +the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange +fate. + +"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness +leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question +will always be productive of strife, more's the pity. Besides, certain +fence-cutting incidents----" + +"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily. + +"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing--without the +proper evidence." + +The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words. + +"What we want from you now, Clark, is information." + +"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone. + +"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch," +explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask +information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob +Blake----" + +"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at +Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew +green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had +come near hitting the nail on the head when he connected them in a +vague way with Rob's disappearance. + +"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly. + +"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you +needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt +angrily. + +"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good. +Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now +is if they have seen Rob?" + +"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost +hereabouts?" + +"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as +you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might +have had the good fortune to escape." + +"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone, +now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him. + +"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly. + +"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we +like." + +"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with +gentlemen's preferences out here in the West." + +"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at +the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark +carried behind him. + +"We did not." + +"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs +for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?" + +"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank. + +"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why +we're carrying the saddle--to put on him when we find him. That, too, +accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?" + +"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with +excitement as he stepped forward. "_Where did you get Rob Blake's +sombrero?_" + +His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily +tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band +about its crown. + +"Why, I--we--that is--it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily. + +"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by +rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You----" + +Crack! + +The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy +quirt and cut him full across the face with it. + +"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get +out of this." + +The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by +the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In +that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with +anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his +forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his +blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm. + +"Not that way, Blinky," he said. + +"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been +a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass." + +"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an +angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop +them!" + +"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone. + +"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the +cow-punchers. + +As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little +rise. + +As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back. + +"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them. + +Bang! + +The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the youth's hand as if some +invisible grasp had been laid upon it. + +Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew +the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had +just punctured Clark's headgear. + +"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help +it." + +"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark +Jennings party vanished in a hurry. + +The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the +rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's +hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians +in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste +of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob +himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences +of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party +made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been left the day +before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range. + +"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr. +Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he +isn't on the top of the earth." + +All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far +from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the +dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable +time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow +for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed +distracted and worried. + +Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some +theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to +the southwest. + +"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there--what is it?" + +The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending +from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset. + +"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval. + +"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose +and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals. + +"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?" + +"Yes. What has that to do with it?" + +"Well, this is Injun code." + +"Indian?" + +"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a +wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now, +if we had their code book we----" + +"What, the Indians have a code book?" + +"You bet." + +"Where?" + +"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the +cow-puncher. + +"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to +another hilltop some distance from the first. + +Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident +answer to the first. + +"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky. +"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out +something about Rob." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY. + + +Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob +would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to +watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the +distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were +stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering +it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's +direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian +smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked +up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once +worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite +an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen. + +"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover." + +Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing +intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of +the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system +in use to-day on our telegraph lines. + +"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes +with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better +to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had +reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded. + +"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly. + +Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread +of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered +and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if +a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled +the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up. + +"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced +Clark finally. + +"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank +Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they +going to send a pony?" + +"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness +hits our trail?" + +"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob," +replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to." + +"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we +are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful." + +"You think he is alive, then?" + +"Must be, unless he melted into thin air." + +"That's so." + +"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period +of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks, +"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's +mavericks?" + +"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to +have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out, +seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be +left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say, +and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big +drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover +that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!" + +In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next +hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring +of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still, +the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping +of some night insect. + +Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the +hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant later +they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the +newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood +before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark +shadows. + +"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into +the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket. + +The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with +customary stealth on the camping place of his allies. + +"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want +talk?" + +"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant," +grinned Hank. + +"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the +chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not +again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in +council with them. + +"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the +rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young +cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them +away we can all be rich--make heap money." + +"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come. + +"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy----" + +"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian. + +"Then you _did_ take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you +have sense enough to keep him?" + +"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with +Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by +adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But +Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption. + +"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the +heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from +the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask. + +"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly. + +The Indian shook his head. + +"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the +mountains seeking us now." + +Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile. + +"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble, +everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle +of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger." + +"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark. + +But the chief shook his head. + +"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle." + +"Then you won't help us?" + +"No." + +"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly +letting his temper get the better of him for an instant. + +The Indian drew himself up with haughty dignity. Slowly he gathered the +folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak. + +"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will +sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and +the next instant he was gone. + +"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank, +as the offended Indian strode off. + +"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill +Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark." + +"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy +note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I +can tell you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That we'll have to do the Indian act again." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail. +We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go." + +As my readers will have seen, the above conversation throws a strange +side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was +patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and +to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of +cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were +to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the +Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late, +discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their +fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan +which they deemed offered every security against discovery. + + * * * * * + +It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard +when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such +velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will +be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy +had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of +where he was bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit, +and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt +his pony halt and stagger beneath him. + +For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be +captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the +lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of +great stress. + +At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged +forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and +seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity +of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as +the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way +among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail. + +While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and +searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his +way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could +hardly keep himself from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin +and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance. + +He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling +himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on +without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings +since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now, +however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came. +Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt +before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering +lassitude assailed him in every limb. + +"Good gracious! am I going to play out?" + +The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay. + +He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and +although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point +of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of +sun-burned wild oats and foxtail. By the height of the sun and its +direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been +traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden +collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he +craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had +never before assailed him. + +"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked +himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully." + +Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the +boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything. +A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy. + +"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way. + +He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to +him, like the accents of another person. + +"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for +a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple +berry. + +But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort +of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having +reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted +creature. + +All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up +erect--the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes. + +Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the +advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least; +for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a +boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake. + +"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy, +as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling +grumbling. + +What can it be? + +"Sounds like--like---- Great Scott! Silver Tip!" + +Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his +sheltering bush, there had suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch +of the Santa Catapinas. + +It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small, +piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was +hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest +part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap," +so to speak. + +The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics +changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely +about--like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The +small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his +dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob +had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target. + +[Illustration: With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed +straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.] + +But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and +exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip +came lumbering into the clearing. The sight of the monster had tipped +the delicately adjusted balance. + +With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his +monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his +immense bulk upward. + +"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob +deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous +hairy tower of rugged strength. + +The great forepaws--armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel +chisels--extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the +monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was +unexpected, occurred. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE INDIAN AGENT. + + +From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly +emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a +striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the +Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he +instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the +extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first +man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone, +attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country. + +"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far +wrong in this surmise. + +But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange +scene, and Jeffries Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination +when the necessity called for immediate action. + +Bang! + +For the twentieth--or was it the hundredth?--time in his eventful life, +Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's +usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it +buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting +a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe. + +As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled +up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground. + +For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas +meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind +as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded +as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning +power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had +doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, charge +furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These +had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight +and run away, and live to fight some other day." + +So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of +human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his +admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held +his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature +unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more +hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become +devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them. + +Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the +plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all +fours and lumbered off. + +"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty +wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the +unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides. + +"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel +shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along +when I did, and---- Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. +"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of +Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery." + +He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill, +piercing call. + +The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the +clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid +eyes fell on his master. + +"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it +had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome +for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun. +We've got to get him home, Ranger." + +Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His +keen senses indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there +is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his +majesty, King Bruin. + +Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid +horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced +apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place +Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly +up behind the cantle. + +Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck, +the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty +skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went +unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him. + +After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located +open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which +might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now, +however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the +bottom bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred +mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the +midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small +cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact, +been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector. +Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his +surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with +an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable. + +So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered +consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of +fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through +holes in which he could see the blue sky. + +"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed +back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed. + +Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he +retraced recent happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his +delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection. + +"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was +Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his +intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and +the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had +happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there, +a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone: + +"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight +grizzlies with his bare hands?" + +Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the +doorway. + +He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch. + +"Why--why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his +companion's kindly, bearded features. + +"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the Indian agent. "And now, if +you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting +along. How does that sound?" + +"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his +appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be +babied this way. I'm going to get up and----" + +"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent. +"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty +head appeared inquiringly in the doorway. + +"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up--grab him!" + +With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend +the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside. + +"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and +haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me, +and---- I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or +if that was just a bluff." + +It was a good evidence of Rob's returning vitality that he stretched +out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness. + +Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and +the whites of his eyes showed menacingly. + +"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob. + +As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the +kind light came back into his eyes. + +"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this +is the first I have ever seen." + +Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger--animals trained to the same +wonderful pitch of intelligence--are not uncommon in the Southwest. +Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more +appetizing than anything he had ever known. + +"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor. + +"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made +table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished half a +dozen more bowls like it--or so he felt--but Mr. Mayberry told him that +after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow." + +So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able +to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite +recovered his faculties. + +"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found +you?" + +Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by +exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent. + +"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a +thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have +frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated +the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most +unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and +fence cutting." + +"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob. + +"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying goes, it is almost impossible +to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from +the East, and his companions?" + +"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our +experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of +our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut." + +"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!" + +"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to +the West." + +Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him +some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding +up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a +detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel +Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The +Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great +Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it +with the troops at the height of the ceremonies. + +"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he +declared. + +"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob. + +"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but +since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be +informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a +settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch." + +Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it +would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest +disappointment and hastened to reassure him. + +"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for +even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return +with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if +possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the +Moquis." + +A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside. + +"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, +springing up, followed by Rob. + +Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was +gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently. +His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance +was one of intense nervousness. + + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that +Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded. + +"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make +him act like that--Indians and bears--and I reckon there are no bears +about right now. + +"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse, +you'll have to carry double, after all." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT. + + +It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and +Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the +big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless +little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr. +Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned, +disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking +search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found +absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had +indeed reached "the end of the rope." + +"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?" + +It was Merritt who spoke. + +"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my boy, that we have used up +every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher. + +"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may +be wandering about in the mountains now." + +"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically. + +"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary +tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech. + +"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we +could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness, +and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the +last flicker of hope has died out." + +"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?" + +"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of +strength he will make his way back." + +"But the tracks of the big bear?" + +"Silver Tip," put in Harry. + +"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined Merritt; "but somehow I +feel that Rob will yet come out all right." + +"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently. + +As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching +party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of +their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger +of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the +huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor +in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the +missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and +many other dangers that he might have to face. + +Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he +had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the +same, Blinky running to the window. + +"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent +for election!" he announced. + +"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness. + +"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky. + +"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt. + +The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned +searchers. + +"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly. + +"How do you know?" + +"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too." + +"Perhaps he has news of the boy." + +"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the +cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's +worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry." + +Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward +the door began. + +They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so +violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said, +the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His +pony's coat was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was +whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost +obliterated by the same substance. + +"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of +faces. + +"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed +the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony. + +The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He +evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces. +Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of +the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony. + +"Has--has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward. + +"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of +an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and +if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him." + +Together the Indian chief and the rancher passed into the living room +of the ranch house, and the door closed on them. + +For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once +more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually +grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The +Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought +round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then, +without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off. + +"He--he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that +instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness. + +"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all +he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you +that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no +longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's +saddle, escaped." + +"Then nobody knows where he is?" + +"That's it." + +Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear +what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the +rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind. + +"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things +are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For +the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A +younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the +tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black +Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked +for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here." + +"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly. + +"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything +to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells +me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite +of that, an attack is to be made on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by +Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and----" + +"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!" +cried Blinky. + +"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive +any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious +after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What +he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself +and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw +the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work +him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me." + +"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt. + +"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty +influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his +tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me +of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front +for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty." + +"But will you?" asked Harry. + +"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means +of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious +predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range, +rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we +to oppose him?" + +"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly. + +"Who?" + +"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not +one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that." + +"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger." + +"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly. + +"Why?" + +"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at +least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do +all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were trailing poor Rob, and +they're made of the right stuff." + +So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far +Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little +doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had +been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact, +we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such +was the case. + +"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt, +when this had been settled. + +"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it, +if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for +soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their +revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he +can." + +"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry. + +"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself +more popular with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance +with all its trimmings." + +"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly. + +"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky. + +"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of +his favorite topic. + +"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they +throw into a red-hot pit of coals." + +"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly. + +"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white +men that ever saw one and got out alive." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their +fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death." + +"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did," +muttered Tubby. + +At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness +hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled, +and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other +end. + +"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about. + +Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear. + +"He's---- Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat +some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to +Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death." + +"How far is Red Flat from here?" + +"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse." + +"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?" + +"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the +Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in +expostulation. + +"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim. +"You are mad to attempt it!" + +"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's duty to place his head in +a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you----" + +"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind +him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what +he is about to do." + +"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry. + +"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '_reason_' with the +Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock, +a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't +reason with an Indian." + +"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL. + + +Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive +intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been +able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they +were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady +eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed +the trail without any misgivings. + +The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the +uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that +reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the +hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well +that he did so, as we shall see. + +Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out than a dozen dusky forms +slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about. +Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of +everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were, +then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took +the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of +the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians, +with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some +little distance from the shanty. + +All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily +forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent +had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks. +Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their +presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry +on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered +to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is +true, but he determined to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than +expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than +needful. + +It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement +with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the +outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day +trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the +store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its +owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they +could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur +before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the +blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch. + +He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper, +drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some +sheep, which had kept him away till that time. + +"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What +brings you here? Come to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those +'babies' of yours?" + +"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben, +I'd like to telephone." + +"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as +he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head +off." + +Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's +astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he +had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the +soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake +dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis." + +Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control +of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red +men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been +able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the +tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous Diamond Snake, who was as +ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance, +and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still +kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail. +Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable, +and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even +spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was +behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the +veteran. + +In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder +Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided +for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the +good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no +one knew what would happen. + +This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The +ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their +ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the +traditions of the Moquis. A similar situation has often prevailed in +the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red +man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will +of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance +to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish. + +So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had +stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it, +had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not +unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy. + +No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode +slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile +played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole +countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him, +would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a +pleasant mood. + +In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind +to have passed the crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be +at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the +valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain, +things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their +reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless +decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence +was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He +regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and +reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin +veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men +had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character +was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly +destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were +called upon to bear. + +The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so +in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly swerved so +violently from the trail as almost to unseat him. + +"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's +neck. "What is it?" + +Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a +dead stop. + +"Why, Ranger, I----" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells, +several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their +soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted +with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent +from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of +the maddened Ranger. + +His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the +previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement. + +The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog +into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf. +In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them +into a ferocity of mind which had speedily wiped off the varnish +civilization had applied so painstakingly. + +While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed +himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the +plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and +fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with +a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his +iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled +him over in the road beside his master. + +The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again. +Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over +the back of one of their ponies. + +Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound +that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back +of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive +chest showed that he still lived. + +Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, including the one who had +been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief, +however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found +himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider +as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's +steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by +Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and +ears wickedly set back. + +With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up +the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's +rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression +of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot +master. + +Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be +inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind. +And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and +sometimes striking off through the trackless wild. Never once did the +redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten +track. + +Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic +whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the +back of the Indian pony that bore him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE MAVERICK RAID. + + +"Hark!" + +Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd, +a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like +the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the +Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered +rise. + +It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red +Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with--well, +let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his +chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances, +and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead. +Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could be +released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including +confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil +companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention +was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy. + +A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts, +Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They +reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly +shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves +were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute +his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding +bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own +leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the +guardianship of the Boy Scouts. + +"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the +signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession. +Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have to. Concentrate +your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once +succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good +as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them +till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open +market." + +"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob. + +"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all +the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in +jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to +carry on their nefarious work." + +For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which +brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily +over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they +cropped the half-dry grass. + +Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger +Patrol, and the boys, composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind +their shelter. + +Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the +herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air +for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the +boys as the young steer gave its alarm. + +Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked +restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to +and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric +storms of the Southwest breaks over them. + +"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob. + +"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position +alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side. + +"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!" + +"I don't hear anything," said Merritt. + +"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north." + +"You mean that sort of trampling sound?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt. + +"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're +coming this way." + +The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in +volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs +approaching at a smart gallop. + +"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle. + +"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach," +commented Harry. + +"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at +most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they +suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off." + +"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt. + +Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift +uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to +advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high +rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word. + +"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head." + +Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to +gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds. + +"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young +leader had slipped his revolver from its holster. + +"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans +are before giving the alarm." + +"All right. But don't let them give us the slip." + +"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master +Clark Jennings and Company myself." + +Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop." + +"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!" + +Bang! Bang! + +Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the +same instant. + +But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his +anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had +allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle, +thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash +Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back. + +Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud +cheer as they swept forward behind their leader. + +Bang! Bang! + +It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it +sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample +room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard +Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward. + +Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before +the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians. + +"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the +illusion that they were Indians. + +"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our +eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered +with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was +Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts. + +"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward. +"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can." + +With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol +was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a +lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the +rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval. + +The consternation created in the ranks of Clark Jennings's raiders by +the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined. + +"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers +here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle, +which were now loping fast toward the mountains. + +"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?" + +"That's what they've got. Hark at that!" + +A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders, +and this time it sounded closer. + +"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got +to get to the mountains before they close on us." + +A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the +cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened +animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the +constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on +swept the mad advance. + +"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted +Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts. + +"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons. + +"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting." + +Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed +over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This +fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and +permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so +close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed +Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers. + +In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact +that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in +Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range. + +Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of the raiders' revolvers, and +a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear. + +"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly. + +The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a +raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body +was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to +aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman. + +"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly. + +"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his +rider out of the race." + +Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came +another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount +collapse under him. + +He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the +pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one +side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one +of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and +cheering, the chase swept on. + +"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them, +though. I'd like----" + +"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!" + +The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the +blue. + +Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and +down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his +head. + +"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a +vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode +round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in +front of the boy. + +Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's +head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He +was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE. + + +"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered +Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to +you, Rob Blake." + +"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of +your conversation." + +"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle +menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here." + +"But you daren't use it." + +"Don't be too sure." + +"Well, what do you want to do with me?" + +"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto--see? Now march." + +"Which way?" + +"Toward the mountains." + +"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and began to march off, but +already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity +suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his +pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white +skull--the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a +wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he +was. + +Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a +flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down, +grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle +of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast. + +"Drop that rifle, Clark!" + +The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do +him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead +raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging +sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily +contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open. +As Clark's bullet penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the +light trigger. + +Bang! + +The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a +frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as +Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the +pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew +out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was +only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off. + +"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on +one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances +and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a +revolver concealed about him. + +"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr. +Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth." + +At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south. +It was the belated band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness, +sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase. + +"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob. + +"Who is it?" came back the hail. + +"Rob Blake. I want to see you." + +"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is +something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings." + +"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully. + +"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!" +growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr. +Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and +his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the +leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground, +nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat. + +"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider. +"Here, Blinky, just take a few turns round this fellow with a rope. +Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll +take no chance with so slippery a customer." + +The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene. +Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder. + +"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried. + +"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything," +protested Rob. + +"What, he fired at you?" + +"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!" + +An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh +wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to +keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's +pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed +cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings. + +"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe +something's happening up ahead." + +Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air. + +Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out. + +"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward. + +Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels. + +It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed. +Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their +ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched +rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations. + +Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices +and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different +lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half +off, giving a grotesque appearance to them. + +The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft, +Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them would say +a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the +cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed +mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting +them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders +no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped +off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their +escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped +lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the +bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or +more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general +inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling +discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found. + +"Who saw him last?" asked Rob. + +"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian." + +"Any one see him since?" + +No, nobody had. + +At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off +in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To +the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound +up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide. + +"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob. + +"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a +prisoner of war." + +"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt. + +"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled +prisoner. + +Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the +fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His +attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as +Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive. + +It was Jack Curtiss! + +Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been +persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the +former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would +outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had +taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion. +Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little +knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony +stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his +rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command: + +"Shut up!" + +As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a +fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts. +Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the +rest. + +"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt, +clapping the fat boy on the back. + +"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby, +grandiloquently strutting about. + +"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed +Harry Harkness. + +"Just the same--just the same," rejoined Tubby. + +A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it +was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party. + +"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider +drew rein almost at his feet. + +"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt. + +"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely. + +But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and +spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great +excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the +interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man. + +"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to +the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered. + +"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob. + +"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black +Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp." + +"Is he in danger?" + +"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such +is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me." + +A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man +Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness, +listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's +predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers +remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well +knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly +forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake +dance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE. + + +About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed +a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming +torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare +of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep +depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake +dancers. + +In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so +rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced +Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the +frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes +glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above +the fire. + +All at once a low chant arose from the line. Its regular rhythm and +booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily +it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the +hills were intoning it. + +As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time +the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated, +which stood behind them. + +Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows +grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one +of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous +ornament--a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler! + +The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed +to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously +than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had +reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was +harmless to him. + +As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism +changed as if by magic. The excitement of the dance was upon them. +Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls. + +A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the +onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout, +standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of +his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit. +Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the +weird ritual. + +Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its +wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder, +or desert rattlesnake--a distinct species from the big diamond-back--and +even more deadly. + +Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped +head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it +forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing. + +[Illustration: Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking +desert rattlesnake.] + +This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians. +One after another the young braves cast off their blankets and rushed +forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The +ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp +reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the +odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads. + +In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved +countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some +distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was +half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did +he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand +and foot to a post. + +His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear, +for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back +of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry--for our readers +must have already recognized the Indian agent--never knew less fear than +he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous +tribe, rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of +cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the +rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful +than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed +one in that rocky bowl. + +But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled +with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost +similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had +made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation, +but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full +control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the +only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed +powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been +able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger +to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a +voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his mind was busy with intense +speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it +was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian +recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and +what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had +ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his +presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of +many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what +Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently +see. + +Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had +arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new +moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand. + +Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and +began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries +Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished +bronze in the glare of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence +this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His +talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned +and fervid to the last degree. + +Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent +managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that, +as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address. + +Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been +dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on +him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt +one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant. + +"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought +to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals, +they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!" + +Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words. + +"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice +went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned +Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's +horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst." + +He turned his head--the only portion of his body which was free to +move--and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For +hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but +now he had grown quiet. + +"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry. +Which goes to show--in the light of what was to come--that a man can get +"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him. + +Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in +his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in +the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His +whole attitude spoke dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the +horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken. + +All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the +young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at +last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors +who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the +Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at +them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly +rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free. + +Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that +moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with +him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit! +Could they mean to thrust him into that? + +Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round +to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated +Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed. + +"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into +speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!" + +If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without +him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to +find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It +should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the +Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr. +Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They _might_ come, but it would be too +late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very +much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul. +He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint. + +"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having +led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him +close to the edge of the pit, which now lay between him and the crowd +of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the +glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger +still occupied his same position. + +Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate +was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the +inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution. + +His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was +forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting +began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the +biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest +rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,--an immense creature of +the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long. + +As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's +dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE. + + +Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the +young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast +the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian +agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or +otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians +gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle. + +It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a +bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate +effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he +realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he +resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to +become endowed with furious rage. It lashed its mottled tail, and then +carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the +death strike. + +Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red +glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and +the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to +give greater force to its death blow. + +The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his +a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense +that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a +fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his +courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry. + +It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense +excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act +that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene. + +Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse. +So far as any one knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend +in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish +his horse near him in the hour of his doom. + +For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy +matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the +fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set +Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his +former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that +he was free. + +The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his +master's voice. + +While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks, +four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger +alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries +of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled +over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken +ribs. Another's arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck. + +Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach +Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill +whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red +men, to the very brink of the fiery pit. + +Overcoming his natural dread of fire--a far greater terror to horses +than almost any other--Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty +leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and +his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time +allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the +opposite side of the pit. + +They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid +glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like +a thunderbolt. + +Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs. +With a yell of superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way. +Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an +infernal messenger among them. + +But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one +terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs +of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled +backward. + +Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every +muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his +doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus. + +He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over +backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had +fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and +nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui. + +At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by +the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a +steel spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the +poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head +to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a +second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse +whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with +impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in +his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted. + +With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis, +gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the +tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the +fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old +Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the +rocky bowl. + +"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above +the tumult. + +A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a +single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same +pit as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond +Snake, was their raging desire. + +"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the +rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl. + +As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a +perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a +solitary horseman. + +A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came +to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he +had appeared. + +"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed +on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the +white man's vengeance!" + +As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the +rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had +felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning, +had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his +safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his +ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big +bowlder he watched the events that were to follow. + +A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being +the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing +himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to +swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage, +Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly +wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse +plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling +over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted +but a minute. + +A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell, +still fighting, by his master's side. + +At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted +"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury it in +the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing +out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end +of the rock bowl. + +Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were +attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of +the murderous young brave's hand. + +"Hooray!" + +The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake +swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if +their throats would split. + +Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too +terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance. +A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were +drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr. +Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had +been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band +at the lower end of the bowl. + +Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and +cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when +he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces. + +"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say +it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd +never have saved you." + +"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the +place to tell you all how I feel. But, but----" + +His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground. +Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries. + +"Is Ranger seriously hurt?" + +The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the +question. + +"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on +the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though." + +And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he +carried with him to his last days the marks of that night. But his +owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish +spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility. + +"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that +fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner. + +A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment. + +"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing +upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr. +Harkness. + +"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have +come too late." + +"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent +to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two +ago. They must have ridden like the wind." + +Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky +basin, their steaming, dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace +they had kept up. + +"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the +young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged. +"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well." + +"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness. + +"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the +soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the +future." + +"We hope so," said Rob simply. + + * * * * * + +Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the +range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went +peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as +their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was +paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time +Mr. Mayberry recovered some of his faith in the Indian character, but +even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken. + +Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted +to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments +are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender +neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that +you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered. + +If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is +regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her +fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and +blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's +beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a +mystery to the tribe. + +Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for +their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In +a Western community few more serious crimes, for obvious reasons, can +be committed than cattle stealing. + +The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones +for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob +had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now +one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A. + +Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the +mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and +proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has +become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona. + +What became of Silver Tip? + +Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge +brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at +length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the +boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face +to face. + +Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can tell? Animals possess many +faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may, +it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven +look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone +upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the +position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter. +Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at +his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon +again. + +"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your +wicked old life." + +Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've +been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now +I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into +one." + +One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces +to be drawn. It announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton +Academy. + +And so--as all good things have to draw to a close--the happy, eventful +days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the +exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in +their adventurous lives. + +We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more +stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of +these will be connected with the wonderful new science of aerial +navigation. + +This new installment of their adventures will be called: THE BOY +SCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP. + + +THE END. + + + + +=Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications= + +_A postal to us will place it in your hands._ + + +1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best +standard books published, at prices less than offered by others. + +2. You will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: Poetry, +Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion, +Biography, Drama, etc., besides Dictionaries and Manuals, Bibles, +Recitation and Hand Books, Sets, Octavos, Presentation Books and +Juvenile and Nursery Literature in immense variety. + +3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as +low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in +cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit +the tastes of the most critical. + +4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our +SPECIAL DISCOUNTS, which we offer to those whose purchases are +large enough to warrant us in making a reduction. + +HURST & CO., _Publishers_, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York. + + + + +BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BY + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume. + + +=The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.= + +A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become +part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with +this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys +of all ages and in all parts of the country. + +While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting +adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his +companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous +things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of +most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome +every one of their dangers and difficulties. + +How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the +patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their +disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil +a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the +book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and +breathless incident. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +BOY SCOUT SERIES + +BY + +LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON + +MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound, Price 50c per volume. + + +=The Boy Scouts on the Range.= + +Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was +a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts? +The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle +thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in +grave difficulties. + +There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other +tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast +vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books +hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among +the Moquis. + +Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim +figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant +grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as +gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The +boy is weaponless and,--but it would not be fair to divulge the +termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and +place upon their shelves to be read and re-read. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +Bungalow Boys Series + +BY + +DEXTER J. FORRESTER + +NEW MODERN STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE. + +Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume. + + +=THE BUNGALOW BOYS.= + +The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of +Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the +big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in +these volumes. + +The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the +region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor, +turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies +even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable +neighbors in more senses than one. + +For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys' +quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil +companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever +manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave +difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is +imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily +drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally +proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for +a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the +book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK. + + + + +Dreadnought Boys Series + +BY + +Capt. WILBUR LAWTON. + +=Modern Stories of the New Navy.= + +Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume. + + +=The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.= + +How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime +town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their +anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you +would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their +country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those +steel walls? + +There are no books published which will tell you more of the new +navy,--of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries +and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of +the naval seaman's life, than these volumes. + +In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong +and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they +have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his +fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set +themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and +fast. At target practice Herc--by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a +living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret +of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their +longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books +for real boys. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. + +HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK. + + + + +Motor Rangers Series + +By MARVIN WEST + +OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES FOR MODERN BOYS + +Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume. + + +=The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.= + +A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile +fiction,--the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters +in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and +mysterious land of Lower California. + +Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which +proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,--occupies much of the +interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so +powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost +to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading. + +In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the +haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of +the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula. + +The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys, +which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination +for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books. + +Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. Hurst & Co., Publishers New York + + + + +The Oakdale Series + +By Morgan Scott + +HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS + +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60c a Volume + + +=Ben Stone at Oakdale= + +BY MORGAN SCOTT + +12MO., CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. PRICE 60c + +Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this +class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the +Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers +market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in +price, can these be designated as cheap books; in manufacture, in +literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of +the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters +of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of +school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a +spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find +it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of +the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy +misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all; +and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the +seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy. + +FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD, OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60c +BY + +HURST & COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK + + + + +The Oakdale Series + +By Morgan Scott + + +High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys + +Cloth Bound + +Illustrated + +Price, 60 cents a Volume + + +=Boys of Oakdale Academy= + +by Morgan Scott + +12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60c + +This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter +sports--snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such--are features. In +the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and +attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads, +who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and +talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing +and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent +sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually, +through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow +from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective +manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village. +This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes; +it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is +as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure. + +For sale wherever books are sold, or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60c +by +Hurst & Co., 395 Broadway, New York + + + + +----------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | + | original document have been preserved. | + | | + | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | + | | + | Page 26 Samuri changed to Samurai | + | Page 89 struck changed to stuck | + | Page 113 Charlie changed to Charley | + | Page 151 croked changed to croaked | + | Page 206 Jenning's changed to Jennings's | + | Page 226 earthern changed to earthen | + | Page 243 fandangoes changed to fandangos | + | Page 297 safeest changed to safest | + +----------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by +Lieut. 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