Chapter Fifteen

  Dangerous Hours

  "See that you're well heeled," admonished the fiery foreman of the Box Bas he hurried into the bunkhouse to strap on an extra revolver.

  Slim made sure that his saddle was well cinched for they would be ridingfast and hard.

  Just before they started, Walt Kelly and Chuck rode in from the south.They were speedily informed that Box B cattle had been driven intoDouble O territory and that the Box B was determined to have none ofthat. They joined the raiding party with a whoop and all five riders setout at full speed for the north range, leaving a startled Lee Wu toguard the home place and his wounded boss.

  "How many do you think were driven onto the Double O?" asked Joe as theygalloped northward.

  "I'd say about forty head," replied Slim, "and from what I saw of themyesterday, they were all prime beef."

  "That's just the kind of cattle we've been losing right along, primestuff that knocks the bottom out of our pocketbook. If this keeps onmuch longer, we won't have anything left to ship this fall. I neverfigured old man Anderson would stoop to rustling our stuff, but it lookslike we have the goods on him."

  The little cavalcade whirled northward, a trail of dust mounting in itswake and hanging in the still afternoon air.

  They topped a slope and looked down on the Double O range. A little morethan a mile away they could see a few cattle grazing.

  "Maybe that's our stuff over there," shouted Walt.

  Joe shook his head. "They'd have driven them further into their ownrange."

  They swung westward along the range line to the place where Doug andSlim had picked off the tracks of the missing cattle.

  Joe swung out of the saddle and scanned the hoofprints of the horseswhich had driven the cattle into the Double O territory.

  "Only three riders made the raid," he grunted. "They had plenty ofnerve."

  Slim, looking down at the hoof prints could hardly suppress anexclamation of surprise. There was a distinct V-shaped nick in the leftrear shoe of one of the horses! There had been a similar nick on thesame shoe of the horse which had carried the bushwhacker safely awayfrom the vengeance of the Box B.

  Slim leaned down and spoke to Joe, and they moved out of earshot of theothers.

  "Listen Joe, there was a V-shaped nick in the left rear shoe of thehorse I chased all over your west range. There's the same kind of a nickin one of the hoofprints here."

  "You mean the fellow who took a shot at the boss was one of the fellowswho rustled the cattle last night?"

  "It looks that way."

  Joe's honest eyes narrowed to steely slits and his lips tightened into agrim line.

  "The Double O had always been a tough outfit, but I never figured oldman Anderson would stand for murder. If we find one of their riders isriding a horse with a shoe like that, watch out for trouble in great bigchunks."

  The Box B riders remounted and started north into the Double Oterritory. From the trail, it was evident that the cattle had beendriven hard, but the small herd had been fairly easy to handle.

  They penetrated more than a mile into the Double O range when a group ofriders galloped into sight over a low hill.

  "Here comes trouble," grinned Chuck, loosening his rifle and making surethat it was ready for fast action. The other Box B riders looked attheir guns and Slim's heart tightened. Tempers were at a fighting pitch.It would require some real diplomacy to get through the next few minuteswithout someone being hurt, perhaps seriously.

  The two groups of riders swept toward each other at a furious pace,slowing down only when they were less than two hundred yards apart. At ahundred yards they stopped, eyeing each other warily, waiting for thefirst break.

  "Old man Anderson's with his boys and he's wearing two guns," said Joe."That means he's on the warpath sure."

  Slim counted the Double O riders. Five men were ranged behind their bossand he recognized one of them as Al Bass, the range rider they had seenthe day before.

  "They've got our cattle," said Walt Kelly impatiently. "What are wegoing to do, talk or shoot?"

  "We'll talk first," said Joe, curbing his first impulse to shoot it out,for the Box B was outnumbered.

  Joe held up his hand and started forward, calling to Slim, "You ridewith me and the rest stay here and watch for any break."

  Nels Anderson and Al Bass rode forward from the Double O group and theymet halfway between.

  The owner of the Double O was a gigantic Swede, well over six feet talland as broad as an ox. His huge hands rested easily on the pommel of hissaddle and the butts of his six guns protruded from the holsters on eachleg. The light blue eyes peered out from beneath shaggy eyebrows and hiswhole face was a picture of intense rage. He burst into an immediateaccusation.

  "You fellows got nerve," he roared. "Stealing my cattle and then ridingover here in the daytime hunting more. By gar, this is going to stop andstop right here!"

  "What do you mean, stealing your cattle?" replied Joe angrily. "Allwe're doing is trailing a herd of our own stuff that you've driven intoyour range. Fine thing for a man's neighbor to turn rustler."

  The Swede's face flushed an angry red and his right hand clawed at hisgun, but Al Bass reached out quickly and seized the hand with a firmgrip.

  "Hold it, Nels," he said. "There's something wrong here. I saw Box Bcattle on our range better than a mile back. They're hunting their stuffon our territory and we're looking for some of our choice beef on theirside of the line."

  It was with difficulty that the owner of the Double O controlled hissurging temper, and when he spoke his voice was filled with emotion.

  "Don't you call me a rustler again," he warned Joe. "Next time maybe Alwon't be here to stop me."

  "Sorry, Nels, but my temper got away from me. We've been losing cattleright and left and this time we figured we'd trailed some of our primebeef right into your back yard."

  "Yeh," grunted Al Bass. "There's a trail a quarter mile west of herewhere about sixty head of our stuff was driven onto your range lastnight. Laugh that one off."

  "Looks to me like a clever attempt to get the Box B and the Double Ointo a lot of gun play and clean both outfits out while they were busytrying to settle grievances," said Slim.

  He turned to Nels Anderson. Briefly he told him of the attempt to killAdam Marks and how he had trailed the bushwhacker, only to be beatenback by the storm.

  "The man who shot Adam Marks was riding a horse that had a V-shaped markon the left rear shoe," said Slim. "We found the same mark left by oneof the horses used to drive our cattle onto your range last night."

  "So you figured that it was a Double O rider who tried to kill yourboss," said Al Bass.

  "That's about the ticket," said Joe.

  Nels Anderson's big frame shook with anger.

  "Fools, fools," he cried. "Why, Adam and I came here together. We don'talways agree, but by gar I sure wouldn't let anyone take a shot at him."

  Al Bass leaned forward.

  "I was the fellow who found out our cattle had been rustled and I got agood look at the hoofprints left by the rustlers' horses. There's justsuch a mark as you described on one of the left rear prints."

  Slim smiled a little grimly.

  "I'd kind of figured there would be. Seems like these two outfits oughtto forget any past troubles and realize that through a clever trick therustlers almost had them fighting each other to death. We figured one ofyour boys tried to get our boss, and that your whole outfit was stealingour cattle, while you fellows were dead sure we rustled off your beeflast night."

  Nels Anderson leaned over toward the Box B foreman, thrusting out a hugehand.

  "Joe, your boy is right. We have been blind. You tell Adam that from nowon we ride together. I'll come see him soon. Now we better throw intogether. We'll round up your stuff and drive it back on your range andthen bring our cattle back."

  They united forces and turned back into the Double O range to
hunt outthe Box B cattle. Slim felt that real progress had been made. Thedifferences between the Double O and the Box B had been smoothed overand the two largest outfits in the Creeping Shadows had united for astand against the rustlers. He looked over the cowpunchers. They were ahard riding lot, every one of them capable of a good fight and Slim knewthat the rustlers were going to be in for some dangerous hours beforemany more days passed.