CHAPTER XII
A FRIEND IN NEED
Stevenson, having started the fire for breakfast, took a pail anddeparted towards the spring; but he got no farther than the corral gate,where he dropped the pail and stared. There was only one horse in theenclosure where the night before there had been four. He wasted no timein surmises, but wheeled and dashed back towards the hotel, and hisvigorous shouts brought Old John to the door, sleepy and peevish. OldJohn's mouth dropped open as he beheld his habitually indolent hostmarking off long distances on the sand with each falling foot.
"What's got inter you?" demanded Old John.
"Our broncs are gone! Our broncs are gone!" yelled Stevenson, shovingOld John roughly to one side as he dashed through the doorway and oninto the room he had assigned to the sullen and bibulous stranger. "Iknowed it! I knowed it!" he wailed, popping out again as if on springs."He's gone, an' he's took our broncs with him, the measly, low-down dog!I knowed he wasn't no good! I could see it in his eye; an' he wasn'tdrunk, not by a darn sight. Go out an' see for yoreself if they ain'tgone!" he snapped in reply to Old John's look. "Go on out, while I throwsome cold grub on the table--won't have no time this morning to do nocooking. He's got five hours' start on us, an' it'll take some rightsmart riding to get him before dark; but we'll do it, an' hang him,too!"
"What's all this here rumpus?" demanded a sleepy voice from upstairs."Who's hanged?" and Charley entered the room, very much interested. Hisinterest increased remarkably when the calamity was made known and helost no time in joining Old John in the corral to verify the news.
Old John waved his hands over the scene and carefully explained whathe had read in the tracks, to his companion's great irritation, forCharley's keen eyes and good training had already told him all therewas to learn; and his reading did not exactly agree with that of hiscompanion.
"Charley, he's gone and took our cayuses; an' that's the very way hecame--'round the corner of the hotel. He got all tangled up an' fellover there, an' here he bumped inter the palisade, an' dropped hissaddle. When he opened the bars he took my roan gelding because it wasthe best an' fastest, an' then he let out the others to mix us up onthe tracks. See how he went? Had to hop four times on one foot afore hecould get inter the saddle. An' that proves he was sober, for no drunkcould hop four times like that without falling down an' being drug todeath. An' he left his own critter behind because he knowed it wasn't nogood. It's all as plain as the nose on your face, Charley," and Old Johnproudly rubbed his ear. "Hee, hee, hee! You can't fool Old John, even ifhe is getting old. No, sir, b' gum."
Charley had just returned from inside the corral, where he had lookedat the brand on the far side of the one horse left, and he waitedimpatiently for his companion to cease talking. He took quick advantageof the first pause Old John made and spoke crisply.
"I don't care what corner he came 'round, or what he bumped inter; an'any fool can see that. An' if he left that cayuse behind because hethought it wasn't no good, he _was_ drunk. That's a Bar-20 cayuse, an'no hoss-thief ever worked for that ranch. He left it behind becausehe stole it; that's why. An' he didn't let them others out because hewanted to mix us up, neither. How'd he know if we couldn't tell thetracks of our own animals? He did that to make us lose time; that's whathe did it for. An' he couldn't tell what bronc he took last night--itwas too dark. He must 'a' struck a match an' seen where that Bar-20cayuse was an' then took the first one nearest that wasn't it. An' nowyou tell me how the devil he knowed yourn was the fastest, which itain't," he finished, sarcastically, gloating over a chance to rub itinto the man he had always regarded as a windy old nuisance.
"Well, mebby what you said is--"
"Mebby nothing!" snapped Charley. "If he wanted to mix the tracks wouldhe 'a' hopped like that so we couldn't help telling what cayuse he rode?He knowed we'd pick his trail quick, an' he knowed that every minutecounted; that's why he hopped--why, yore roan was going like the windafore he got in the saddle. If you don't believe it, look at themtoe-prints!"
"H'm; reckon yo're right, Charley. My eyes ain't nigh as good as theyonce was. But I heard him say something 'bout Winchester," replied OldJohn, glad to change the subject. "Bet he's going over there, too. Hewon't get through that town on no critter wearing my brand. Everybodyknows that roan, an'--"
"Quit guessing!" snapped Charley, beginning to lose some of the tatteredremnant of his respect for old age. "He's a whole lot likely to head fora town on a stolen cayuse, now ain't he! But we don't care where he'sheading; we'll foller the trail."
"Grub pile!" shouted Stevenson, and the two made haste to obey.
"Charley, gimme a chaw of yore tobacker," and Old John, biting off agenerous chunk, quietly slipped it into his pocket, there to lay untilafter he had eaten his breakfast.
All talk was tabled while the three men gulped down a cold anduninviting meal. Ten minutes later they had finished and separated tofind horses and spread the news; in fifteen more they had them and wereriding along the plain trail at top speed, with three other men close attheir heels. Three hundred yards from the corral they pounded out ofan arroyo, and Charley, who was leading, stood up in his stirrups andlooked keenly ahead. Another trail joined the one they were followingand ran with and on top of it. This, he reasoned, had been made by oneof the strays and would turn away soon. He kept his eyes lookingwell ahead and soon saw that he was right in his surmise, and withoutchecking the speed of his horse in the slightest degree he went aheadon the trail of the smaller hoof-prints. In a moment Old John spurredforward and gained his side and began to argue hot-headedly.
"Hey! Charley!" he cried. "Why are you follering this track?" hedemanded.
"Because it's his; that's why."
"Well, here, wait a minute!" and Old John was getting red fromexcitement. "How do you know it is? Mebby he took the other!"
"He started out on the cayuse that made these little tracks," retortedCharley, "an' I don't see no reason to think he swapped animules. Don'tyou know the prints of yore own cayuse?"
"Lawd, no!" answered Old John. "Why, I don't hardly ride the same cayusethe second day, straight hand-running. I tell you we ought to follerthat other trail. He's just cute enough to play some trick on us."
"Well, you better do that for us," Charley replied, hoping against hopethat the old man would chase off on the other and give his companions arest.
"He ain't got sand enough to tackle a thing like that single-handed,"laughed Jed White, winking to the others.
Old John wheeled. "Ain't, hey! I am going to do that same thing an'prove that you are a pack of fools. I'm too old to be fooled by a commontrick like that. An' I don't need no help--I'll ketch him all by myself,an' hang him, too!" And he wheeled to follow the other trail, angry andoutraged. "Young fools," he muttered. "Why, I was fighting all aroundthese parts afore any of 'em knowed the difference between day an'night!"
"Hard-headed old fool," remarked Charley, frowning, as he led the wayagain.
"He's gittin' old an' childish," excused Stevenson. "They say warn'tnobody in these parts could hold a candle to him in his prime."