CHAPTER XXV

  THEIR LAST CHANCE

  Silence followed this rather insolent remark of the cattle buyer; andapprehensive looks were on the faces of his auditors. For in the freeand breezy ranch life such talk usually was the preface to a strongerbrand that ended in a fight.

  “Well, in a manner of speaking, and casual like, maybe it wouldn’t beany of my business,” said Hinkee Dee, and it was noted that he wastrying to keep his temper. “But this time I think it is.”

  “Just what did you want to know?” asked Munson. Clearly he was notgoing off “half cocked.” He wanted a basis for his objections.

  “I want to know,” and the assistant foreman spoke more slowly, “whatyou were doing with Pod Martin?”

  “How do you know I was with Pod Martin?”

  “You and him was seen going in Jack’s place together,” and Hinkee Deebanged his fist on a table.

  “Go easy,” advised Munson. He seemed less angry than at first. “Whyshouldn’t I go with Pod Martin if I want to?” he demanded.

  “Well, I’ll tell you why, Mr. Cattle Buyer, as you call yourself.Out here it ain’t healthy for folks visitin’ on a ranch where cattleare being stolen, to consort with a man suspected of being a cattlerustler!”

  He fairly shot out the words, and there was a general murmur throughoutthe room. Everyone expected to see Munson spring to an attack on theassistant foreman, at least with his fists if not drawing a gun. Butthe visitor, who still wore his big diamonds, gave no sign of beinginsulted or accused.

  “I don’t admit I was consorting with a cattle-rustler suspect,” he saidgently.

  “You don’t have to admit it. You was seen.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. How was I to know Martin is said to be astealer of cattle?”

  “Ain’t you heard it?” blustered Hinkee Dee.

  “You heard what I said,” was Munson’s rejoinder.

  “Well, if you ain’t heard that then you’re about the only one in theseparts that ain’t--barrin’, maybe, these tenderfeet,” and he indicatedthe listening and interested boys.

  “Isn’t Pod Martin suspected of being a cattle rustler?” demanded theassistant foreman of the Parson.

  “Yep!” was the answer.

  “Well,” rejoined Munson, coolly, “I suppose if he’s really a rustler hemight have taken cattle from this ranch.”

  “As like as not,” growled the assistant foreman.

  “Then why don’t you have him arrested?” shot out the cattle buyer sosuddenly that some of the cowboys jumped, steady as their nerves were.

  Hinkee Dee paused for a moment before answering. Then he growled orgrunted rather than replied:

  “Huh! I would soon enough, if I could get the evidence against him. Buthe’s too slick. There’s nothing positive.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Munson, easily. Then he got up and went away. Theincident ended so quickly and so unexpectedly that it left some of theauditors in a sort of gasping state. Hinkee Dee did not, apparently,know what to make of the way the wind had been taken out of hissails. He sat looking at the door through which Munson had limped andmuttered, as he, himself, went out:

  “I’ll get him yet!”

  “Think there’ll be a fight?” asked Bob, apprehensively, of Gimp.

  “Naw. It’s all talk. I’ve seen and heard lots like it before. But Hinkwas right; it was sort of brash for Munson to talk openly with Martin,who people is beginnin’ to suspect of bein’ a rustler.”

  All of this served to strengthen the suspicions that had been growingin the minds of the boys that Munson was, somehow or other, more orless connected with the cattle thefts.

  True, there was no direct evidence against him. The only point thatlooked bad, aside from his talk to Martin, was the story of his havingbeen shot while witnessing the raid of some rustlers. That part of thestory was a fake, surely enough, as Jerry could testify. And Munsonstill kept up the fiction about his injured leg. In fact, for sometime he had been going to town twice a week, saying he had to have ittreated by a doctor.

  “We could disprove that easily enough,” suggested Ned. “There’s onlythe one doctor and we could ask him.”

  “We don’t need to,” Jerry declared. “I saw both his legs and therewasn’t a scratch on them.”

  “It doesn’t seem as if we’d ever get to the bottom of this,” sighedNed. “I’m plumb discouraged about that and the professor. Had a letterfrom dad to-day and he wanted to know how we were making out. I hate totell him, on top of sending word about the latest cattle raid.”

  “How much longer did Mr. Watson say he’d wait before sending word?”Jerry queried.

  “The last of the week. Saturday was the last chance he could give us,”he said. “He has to fix up his monthly accounts then and he’s got tomake some report of the missing cattle. So, boys, we’ve got a few daysmore to make good.”

  “It isn’t long,” suggested Bob, dolefully.

  “It’ll be our first failure in a long while,” Ned admitted.

  “And I’m not going to let it be a failure!” cried Jerry, eagerly.

  “What are you going to do?” asked his chums. Somehow they always lookedto the tall lad in an emergency, and one seemed to have arrived now.

  “We’re going up in the airship,” said Jerry. “It’s a pity we couldn’thave used her more for this business as we would have except for theaccident to the wheel. But from now on we’ll use our own little oldmachine. We’ll start to-morrow morning.”

  “Doing what?” asked Ned.

  “Making a search along the mountain ridge in the aeroplane,” wasJerry’s prompt answer. “This horseback business is too slow.

  “Mountain climbing and searching around on top of a range is about thehardest work there is. Now what’s the matter with getting in our craft,taking along a week’s supply of grub--can we carry that much, Chunky?”

  “Sure--more.”

  “That sounds good, coming from you. Well, let’s go on a regular airexpedition,” went on Jerry. “We can take it easy a thousand or so feetup in the air, and we can be looking down for signs all the while. Wemay pick up the trail of the stolen cattle, the rustlers, or even thatof----”

  “Professor Snodgrass!” cried Ned.

  They set off early the next day, having packed a generous supply offood in the lockers of the airship.

  “We’re off!” cried Ned, as the propellers whirred about.

  Amid the cheers of the cowboys, who waved their hats and shot off theirrevolvers, the start was made.

  Would the boys come back safely, having discovered the location of therustlers’ camp, and perhaps having found Professor Snodgrass? Or wouldthey be lost as the scientist had been, somewhere in the wilds of themountain?

  More than one asked those questions as they watched the airshipbecoming smaller and smaller in the blue sky.

  “Our last chance!” murmured Jerry Hopkins. “Well, there’s luck in lastchances.”

 
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