_ CHAPTER IX. THE FIRE
"Sat when!" called Snake to the spectacle-wearing cowboy, as the reptile-fearing cow puncher and his companions prepared to let themselves be roped by the new arrival--providing he could do it.
"I'll be ready in a moment," remarked Henry Mellon, and Bud and his cousins could not but note how differently he spoke from the average run of ranch hands.
"More like one of those college professors who were after the ten-million-year-old Triceratops," remarked Nort, commenting on the talk.
"Yes, he is a bit cultured in his speech," assented Bud. "Guess he hasn't been out west long."
"Then how can he be such a wonderful roper?" Dick wanted to know, for there was no doubt about the ability of Four Eyes, even if he had not yet made good oh his boast of putting his lariat around four galloping horses at once.
"Oh, well, it comes natural to some people," said Bud, "and then, too, he may have been in Mexico. Some of the Greasers are pretty slick with the horsehair. But let's watch."
By this time the four cow punchers, counting Buck Tooth as one, for the Indian was a good herdsman, had lined themselves up about a hundred feet from where Four Eyes sat on his horse--not the same black one he had ridden in, but another, of Bud's stock, that had been assigned him.
"Ready?" asked Yellin' Kid.
"All ready! Come a running!" shouted Four Eyes, and even here he did not drop a "g."
In an instant the four horses were in motion, coming together, in line, down the stretch which the newcomer faced. In another moment Four Eyes had ridden across the path of the oncoming steeds, and on the ground he spread out his lasso in a great loop, leaning over in his saddle to do this. He retained hold of the rope end that was fastened to his saddle, and then, having spread the net, as it were, he pulled up on the opposite side of the course down which the four were now thundering in a cloud of dust.
"Can he do it?" asked Nort.
"He can that way--yes," Bud said. "It's a trick! I thought he was going to make a throw."
"It's a good trick, though, if he does it," declared Dick.
In another instant all four horses ridden by the cowboys and the Indian were within the spread-out loop of Four Eyes as it lay on the ground. And then something happened.
With a mere twist of his wrist, as it seemed, Henry Mellon snapped the outspread rope upward and, reining back his horse, he suddenly pulled the lasso taut.
It was completely around the sixteen legs of the four horses, holding them together, the rope itself being half way down from the shoulder of each animal.
"He did it! By the great rattler and all the little rattlers, he did it!" shouted Yellin' Kid, as he pulled his horse to a stop, an example followed by the others. For though they might all (save one, perhaps) have pulled out of the encircling rope, there possibly would have been an accident. One, or more, of the horses would have stumbled, or been pulled to the ground. And there was no need of that in what was only a friendly contest.
"You did it!" declared Yellin' Kid, as Four Eyes loosed his rope and it fell to the ground, the riders guiding their horses out of the loop. "You shore did it!"
"But it was a trick!" declared Old Billee. "'Tw'an't straight ropin'!"
"Yes, it's a trick, but not every one can do it," said the new cowboy.
"Betcher I can!" declared Snake.
He tried--more than once, but failed. It was not as easy as it looked, in spite of the fact that it was a trick.
"No one can throw, with any accuracy, a loop big enough to take in four horses on the run," declared Four Eyes when it had been demonstrated that he alone, of all the "bunch" at the Happy Valley ranch, could do what he had done. "At least if they can, I've never seen it. Two, maybe, or three, but not four. Putting your rope on the ground, and snapping it up as the horses get in it, is the only way I know."
"I wish you'd show me," spoke Nort.
"I will," promised Four Eyes. "You don't often have need for a trick like it, but it may come in useful some day."
Then he showed the boys the knack of it, though it was evident they were not going to master the "how" in a hurry.
Other feats in roping were indulged in by the cowboys, but none was as expert as Four Eyes. He seemed to possess uncanny skill with the lariat, though some of his tricks could be duplicated by Snake, Yellin' Kid and even by the boy ranchers.
But life on a western ranch is not all fun and jollity, though as much of this as possible is indulged in to make up for the strenuous times that are ever present. So, after the roping exhibition was over, and the newcomer had been assigned certain duties, Bud, Nort and Dick rode down the valley, intending to look over the place where the steers had been stolen, and the carcass of one left as a grim reminder of the raid.
Otherwise all in Happy Valley was peaceful. The water was running into the reservoir, through the pipes that connected with the mysterious underground course, once utilized, it was thought, by the ancient Aztecs.
Here and there, feeding on the rich bunch and Johnson grass, were the cattle in which the boy ranchers were so vitally interested. The most distant herd had been driven in by Snake and Yellin' Kid--the herd on which the raid had been made. Like black specks on the green floor of the valley were the cattle, dotted here and there.
"If we have luck this season we ought to round up a good bunch this fall," observed Bud, as he rode with his cousins.
"Yes," agreed Nort. "The water can't be shut off now, and we have nothing to worry about."
"Except rustlers," put in Dick.
"And the fellow who broke the bottle for us," added Bud. "I'd like to know who he was."
"It was a bit queer," Nort admitted. "But I believe it was some passing cow puncher playing a joke on us. This cattle stealing is no joke, though, and it's got to stop!"
"You let loose an earful that time," spoke Bud, in picturesque, western slang. "We'll have to let the bottle-breaker wait for a spell, until we size up this rustler question. We may have to get up a sheriff's posse and clean out the rascals."
"If we can find 'em," grimly added Dick.
It was some distance to the place where Yellin' Kid and Snake Purdee had seen evidences of the raid, and it was long past noon when the boys reached it. They had stopped for "grub" on the way, having carried with them some food. Water they could get from one of the several concrete troughs that had been installed, the fluid coming through pipes from the reservoir.
"Here's where they killed the steer, or yearling," Bud said, pointing to a heap of bones.
It was all that remained from the feast of the buzzards.
"And here's where they started to drive off the cattle, evidently," added Nort, pointing to where a plain trail, made by the feet of many animals, led away from the ground that was more generally trampled by a large herd.
"Let's follow it," urged Dick. "We want to see when it gets to the disappearing point"
"That's right!" chimed in Bud.
They urged their ponies slowly along the trail left by the rustlers. It seemed to go down the valley to the place where the hills lowered on either side to form a sort of pass. It was in this pass that the two cowboys said the trail was lost.
"We've got some distance to go, yet," observed Bud, as they paused to look and make sure they had not lost the trail.
"And, after all, maybe we'll only find the same thing Snake and Kid did--nothing!" said Nort.
"Well," began Bud, "we've got to get to the bottom of this, and if we don't in one way we will----"
He was interrupted by a shout from Dick.
"Look!" cried the stout lad. "There's a fire! The grass is on fire, Bud!"
The western lad gave a quick look in the direction Dick indicated. It was off to the right from the trail they had been following.
"It is a fire--regular prairie fire," Bud murmured.
"Could any of the reservation Indians be on the rampage and have set it?" asked Nort.
"I don't know! We've got to find out about it!" shouted Bud. "Come on, fellows!" And, wheeling his horse, he abandoned the trail of the rustlers, and galloped toward the fire, followed by Nort and Dick. _