Partners of Chance

  CHAPTER XV

  MORE PONY TRACKS

  Summoned from the west end of the ranch, where he had been irrigatingthe alfalfa, Uncle Frank arrived at the house just as Cheyenne andDorothy rode up. Little Jim was excitedly endeavoring to explain to AuntJane how the corral came to be filled with strange horses.

  Uncle Frank nodded to Cheyenne and turned to Jimmy. "Where you been?"

  "I was over on the mountain."

  "How did these horses get here?"

  Uncle Frank's eye was stern. Jimmy hesitated. He had been forbidden togo near Sneed's place; and he knew that all that stood between a harnessstrap and his small jeans was the presence of Dorothy and Cheyenne. Itwas pretty tough to have recovered the stolen horses single-handed, andthen to take a licking for it.

  Little Jim gazed hopefully at his father.

  "Why, I was chousin' around up there," he explained, "and I seen dad'shosses, and--and I started 'em down the trail and the whole blame bunchfollowed 'em. They was travelin' so fast I couldn't cut 'em out, so Ijust let 'em drift. Filaree and Josh just nacherally headed for thecorral and the rest followed 'em in."

  Uncle Frank gazed sternly at Jimmy. "Who told you to help your fatherget his horses?"

  "Nobody."

  "Did your Aunt Jane tell you you could go over to the mountain?"

  "I never asked her."

  "You trot right into the house and stay there," said Uncle Frank.

  Little Jim cast an appealing glance at Cheyenne and walked slowly towardthe house, incidentally and unconsciously rubbing his hand across hisjeans with a sort of anticipatory movement. He bit his lip, and thetears started to his eyes. But he shook them away, wondering what hemight do to avert the coming storm. Perhaps his father would interposebetween him and the dreaded harness strap. Yet Jimmy knew that hisfather had never interfered when a question of discipline arose.

  Suddenly Little Jim's face brightened. He marched through the house tothe wash bench, and, unsolicited, washed his hands and face and soapedhis hair, after which he slicked it down carefully, so that there mightbe no mistake about his having brushed and combed it. He rather hopedthat Uncle Frank or Aunt Jane would come in just then and find him atthis unaccustomed task. It might help.

  Meanwhile, Cheyenne and his brother-in-law had a talk, outside. Dorothyand Aunt Jane retired to the veranda, talking in low tones. PresentlyLittle Jim, who could stand the strain no longer,--the jury seemed along time at arriving at a verdict,--appeared on the front veranda,hatless, washed, and his hair fearfully and wonderfully brushed andcombed.

  "Why, Jimmy!" exclaimed Dorothy.

  Jimmy fidgeted and glanced away bashfully. Presently he stole to hisAunt Jane's side.

  "Am I goin' to get a lickin'?" he queried.

  Aunt Jane shook her head, and patted his hand. Entrenched beside AuntJane, Jimmy watched his father and Uncle Frank as they talked by the bigcorral. Uncle Frank was gesturing toward the mountains. Cheyenne wasarguing quietly.

  "It ain't just the runnin' off of Sneed's hosses," said Uncle Frank."That's bad enough. But I told Jimmy to keep away from Sneed's."

  "So did I," declared Cheyenne. "And seein' as I'm his dad, it's up to meto lick him if he's goin' to get licked."

  "Sneed is like to ride down some night and set fire to the barns,"asserted Uncle Frank.

  "Sneed don't know yet who run off his stock. And he can't say that Idid, and prove it. Now, Frank, you just hold your hosses. I'll ride overto camp and get my outfit together and come over here. Then we'll throwSteve Brown's hosses into your pasture, and I'll see that Sneed's stockis out of here, pronto."

  "That's all right. But Sneed will trail his stock down here."

  "But he won't find 'em here. And he'll never know they was in yourcorral."

  Uncle Frank shook his head doubtfully. He was a pessimist and alwaysargued the worst of a possible situation.

  "And before I'll see Jimmy take a lickin'--this trip--I'll ride back andshoot it out with Sneed and his outfit," stated Cheyenne.

  "I reckon you're fool enough to do it," said Uncle Frank.

  * * * * *

  An hour later Bartley and Cheyenne were at the Lawrence ranch, wherethey changed packs, saddled Filaree and Joshua, and turned the horsesborrowed from Steve Brown into Uncle Frank's back pasture.

  Little Jim watched these operations with keen interest. He wanted tohelp, but refrained for fear that he would muss up his hair--and hewanted Uncle Frank to notice his hair as it was.

  Aunt Jane hastily prepared a meal and Dorothy helped.

  In a few minutes Cheyenne and Bartley had eaten, and were ready for theroad. Cheyenne stepped up and shook hands with Jimmy, as though Jimmywere a grown-up. Jimmy felt elated. There was no one just like hisfather, even if folks did say that Cheyenne Hastings could do betterthan ride around the country singing and joking with everybody.

  "And don't forget to stop by when you come back," said Aunt Jane,bidding farewell to Bartley.

  Dorothy shook hands with the Easterner and wished him a pleasantjourney, rather coolly, Bartley thought. She was much more animated whenbidding farewell to Cheyenne.

  "And I won't forget to send you that rifle," said Bartley as he noddedto Little Jim.

  Uncle Frank helped them haze Sneed's horses out of the yard on to theroad, where Cheyenne waited to head them from taking the hill trail,again.

  Just as he left, Bartley turned to Dorothy who stood twisting apomegranate bud in her fingers. "May I have it?" he asked, half in jest.

  She tossed the bud to him and he caught it. Then he spurred out afterCheyenne who was already hazing the horses down the road. Occasionallyone of the horses tried to break out and take to the hills, but Cheyennealways headed it back to the bunch, determined, for some reason unknownto Bartley, to keep the horses together and going south.

  The road climbed gradually, winding in and out among the foothills. Asthe going became stiffer, the rock outcropped and the dust settled.

  The horses slowed to a walk. Bartley wondered why his companion seemeddetermined to drive Sneed's stock south. He thought it would be just aswell to let them break for the hills, and not bother with them. ButCheyenne offered no explanation. He evidently knew what he was about.

  To their right lay the San Andreas Valley across which the long,slanting shadows of sunset crept slowly. Still Cheyenne kept the bunchof horses going briskly, when the going permitted speed. Just over arise they came suddenly upon an Apache, riding a lean, active painthorse. Cheyenne pulled up and talked with the Indian. The lattergrinned, nodded, and, jerking his pony round, rode after the horses asthey drifted ahead. Bartley saw the Apache bunch the animals again, andturn them off the road toward the hills.

  "Didn't expect to meet up with luck, so soon," declared Cheyenne. "Ifigured to turn Sneed's hosses loose when I'd got 'em far enough fromthe ranch. But that Injun'll take care of 'em. Sneed ain't popular withthe Apaches. Sneed's cabin is right clost to the res'avation line."

  "What will the Indian do with the horses?" queried Bartley.

  "Most like trade 'em to his friends."

  Bartley gestured toward a spot of green far across the valley. "Lookslike a town," he said.

  "San Andreas--and that's where we stop, to-night. No campin' in thebrush for me while Sneed is ridin' the country lookin' for his stock. Itwouldn't be healthy."