_ CHAPTER XXIV. THE OLD MAN
"Don't shoot!" the old man begged, trying to stand up, but toppling in a heap. "Don't shoot! I haven't done anything!"
"We'll see about that," went on Jim, as he dismounted. "What are you sneaking around like that for, hiding under a rock? If it had been a little darker we wouldn't have seen you. Who are you?"
"I don't know's it any of your affair," replied the stranger sullenly, as he sat down on the ground.
"Shot, eh," remarked Jim, as he noticed that the man's left foot was covered with blood. "Now you'd better tell me all about it, before I make trouble for you."
"It was an accident," replied the man. "I was cleaning my gun. I forgot I had a shell in it, and it went off and hit my foot. It was back there, and I thought I'd crawl along until I got to some place I could get help."
"Likely story," said Jim with a sneer. "That don't go with me, stranger. You stay here and I'll send some of the men to have a look at you."
"Are you going to leave him here?" asked Jack, who had dismounted, and was walking toward the old man.
"Sure. What else can I do?"
"Let me look at his foot," went on Jack, "I know a little bit about first aid to the injured. Maybe I can bandage it up,"
"Better let him alone," advised Jim, mounting his horse again.
But Jack was bending over the man, and had already taken off his shoe, which was filled with blood. As the boy was drawing off the sock, the man caught sight of Jack's hand.
"That ring! That ring! Where did you get it?" he asked excitedly, as he caught sight of the moss agate emblem on Jack's finger. "Tell me, who are you?"
Jack looked at the man in astonishment. His words and manner indicated that some unusual emotion stirred him. For a moment he gazed at the ring and then a film seemed to come over his eyes. His head sank forward, and a second later he toppled over.
"He's dead!" exclaimed Nat.
"Only fainted, I guess," replied Rattlesnake Jim coolly. "Lost considerable blood I reckon. He's left quite a trail, anyhow," and he pointed to where a crimson streak in the grass showed that the wounded man had crawled along.
"What shall we do?" asked John. "We can't leave him here."
"Don't see what else there is to do," said Jim, as he turned his horse back into the path. "We can't carry him. Besides, he is probably only one of a horse-stealing gang, and has been shot in some foray. Better leave him alone."
"I'm not going to," declared Jack. "First I'm going to fix up his foot, and then we'll go for help."
"I guess my uncle will see that he is taken care of," spoke Nat, with all a boy's confidence in things he knows nothing about.
"Well, you can have your own way, of course," Jim said. "I'm only sent to show you the way, but if it was me I sure would leave him alone."
By this time Jack had torn several handkerchiefs into strips to make bandages. Jim, who began to take interest in what the boy was doing, even if he did not believe in it, showed him where there was a pool of water. With this Jack bathed the old man's foot. It had a bad bullet wound in it, but the bleeding had stopped. Carefully bandaging the wound, Jack made a pillow out of a blanket he found rolled behind the saddle and with another covered the senseless form.
"Now let's hurry on to the ranch, Nat," he said, "and ask your uncle to send out a wagon. If none of the men want to come we'll drive."
"Of course we will," spoke Nat, with rather an unfriendly look at Jim,
"Oh, I'm not so mean as that," the cowboy hastened to say. "You'll find out here we have to be mighty particular who we make friends with, son. But if you boys are so dead set on taking care of this-- er--well, this gentleman, why I'll volunteer to drive a wagon back."
"Thanks," said Jack, but from then on there was a better understanding between the cowboy and the three chums.
The boys mounted their horses, and, as Rattlesnake Jim put his to a gallop, they urged their steeds to greater speed. As Nat swung up along side of Jack he asked:
"What makes you so anxious about that old man?"
"Because I think he may know something of my father. Did you notice how excited he was about the ring? Well, that gave me a clue. He may be able to lead me to where my father is hiding. I must have a talk with him."
There was considerable activity about the range when the boys and their guide arrived. A score of the cowboys were coming in from distant runs anxious for supper. Horses were being tethered for the night. Half a dozen dogs were barking as though their lives depended on it. Here and there men were running about, some carrying saddies, others laden down with blankets, and some hopping around and firing off their revolvers in sheer good feeling.
From a little cabin a Chinese in the regulation blouse, with his queue tightly coiled about his head, came to the door.
"Wood-e!-Wood-e?" he called. "Me no glet glub me no got wood-e!"
"Get Chinky the cook some wood!" yelled a man who seemed to be a sort of overseer. One or two of the cowboys got up from the ground where they had thrown themselves and brought armsful to the cook's shanty.
"Here we are," called Rattlesnake Jim, as he and the boys rode into the midst of this excitement.
"Hello, Nat!" called a hearty voice. "Land alive, but I'm glad to see you!"
The next instant a red-faced, short, stout, bald-headed man was nearly pulling Nat from his horse.
"Hello, Uncle Morris!" called Nat. "How are you?"
"Fine as silk. How about you?"
"Never better," replied Nat "Here fellows, this is Uncle Morris. That's Jack and that's John," he added, with a wave of his hand.
"Howdy!" exclaimed Mr. Kent heartily, shaking hands with his nephew's companions. "I'd been able to pick you out in the dark from the description Nat gave. Come on in, grub's almost ready."
"Will you speak to him about the old man?" asked Jack of Nat, in a low voice.
"Oh, yes, sure," and Nat told his uncle in a few words of the wounded one, and Jack's desire to have him brought in.
"I'll send some of the men in the wagon," Mr. Kent said.
"Let me go also," Jack begged, and, after some talk it was arranged he was to go with Jim and another cowboy.
"But you must have supper first," said Mr. Kent. "I insist on that. Besides it's going to be a warm night, and, according to your tale, you left the stranger pretty comfortable. What do you think about him, Jim?"
"Well, there's no telling," the boy's guide said. "He don't look as though he could do much damage. He's a stranger around here. Don't talk like any of the usual crowd. I was a bit leery of him at first, but the lads seemed to cotton to him right off, so I let 'em have their way."
"Well, we'll see what he amounts to," Mr. Kent commented. "No harm in doing him a good turn I reckon."
It was quite dark when Jack, accompanying Jim and Deacon Pratt, another cowboy, started on the wagon trip. But after a bit the moon arose, and the journey was not so unpleasant. Jack was much interested in listening to the talk of the two men. They discussed everything from the latest make of cartridges and revolvers to the best way to rope a steer and brand a maverick.
"Let's see, we ought to be pretty near the place now," Jim remarked, after more than an hour's drive. "I think I see the big stone. Hark! What's that?"
A low moan was heard.
"That's him, I reckon," put in Deacon, who was driving. He swung the horse to one side, and Jim leaped down.
"He's, here!" Jim called. "Pretty bad shape, I'm afraid. Come here, Deacon, and lend me a hand."
The two men lifted the aged man into the wagon, and placed him upon a pile of blankets, while Jack held the team.
"Do you think he's dead?" asked our hero.
"Not yet, but he don't look as if he could last long," Deacon replied. "I'll give him a bit of liquor. It may revive him," and he forced a few drops of the stimulant between the cold lips.
"Don't shoot!" the old man begged in a feeble tone. "I don't mean any harm."
"It's all right," said Rattlesnake Jim, more tenderly than he had yet spoken.
The trip back was made in quick time, and the old man was put in a bed Mr. Kent had ordered gotten ready for him. They were rude but effective doctors, those ranchmen, and, in a little while the stranger had revived considerably. He was suffering mostly from exposure, hunger and loss-of blood from his wound.
The three boys were in the sitting room of the ranch house, taking turns telling Mr. Kent of their experiences on their trip west. Before they knew it the clock had struck twelve.
"Now you must get off to bed," said Nat's uncle. "We'll have more time for swapping yarns to-morrow."
At that moment a man poked his had in at the door.
"What is it?" asked Mr. Kent
"That party we brought in a while ago, him as is shot in the foot, seems to want something."
"What is it?"
"He says as how he's got to speak to that lad with the strange ring, calls him Roberts."
"He means me!" exclaimed Jack. _