CHAPTER II
THE PONY RIDERS JOIN THE OUTFIT
At that instant a man, clad in the dress of a cowboy, leaped from thesidewalk. He caught the angry cowman by the collar. From the way inwhich the newcomer swung the fellow around it was evident that he waspossessed of great strength.
"Stop it!" he thundered.
Tad's assailant turned on the newcomer with an angry snarl, his rage nowbeyond all control.
"Let me alone! Let me get at the cub!" he cried, making a vicious passat the man.
The cowboy's blow was neatly parried and a mighty fist was plantedsquarely between his eyes, sending him to earth in a heap.
"Get up!" commanded the man who had felled him.
The cowboy struggled to his feet, standing sullenly before hisconqueror.
"Look at me, Lumpy! Didn't I tell you that I'd 'fire' you if you gotinto any trouble in town to-day?"
The cowboy nodded.
"Is this the way you obey orders? What sort of recommend do you supposeBoss Miller will give you when I tell him I found you trying to shoot upa kid?"
"I don't care. I ain't askin' any recommends. Besides, he--he gotin----"
"Never mind what he did. I saw it all. Get your pony and back to thecamp for yours. Let Bert come in your place. You get no more lay-offstill I see fit to let you. Now, git!"
Thoroughly subdued, but with angry muttered protests, the cowboy, walkeddown the street, jerking his pony's head about and swinging himself intothe saddle.
"Don't be rough on the fellow. Let him stay."
The newcomer turned to Tad, glancing up at the boy inquiringly.
"Young fellow, you've got nerve--more nerve than sense."
"Thank you. But I asked you to let the man stay. He won't do it again,"urged Tad.
"I'm the best judge of that. And as for you, young fellow, I wouldadvise you to ride your pony away from here. First thing I know you willbe mixing it up with some of the rest of the bunch. I may not be aroundto straighten things out then, and you'll get hurt."
"Thank you, sir. I think I have as much right here as anyone else. Ifthose are your men I should think you might be able to teach them torespect other people's rights."
"What, teach a cowboy?" laughed the other. "You don't know the breed.Take my advice and skip."
Tad's rescuer strode away.
The lad's introduction to cowboy life had not been of an encouragingnature, though it was difficult for him to believe that all cowboys werelike the one he had just encountered.
"Well, you made a nice mess of it, didn't you?" chuckled Ned Rector,riding up beside his companion a few minutes later. "I didn't see it,but I heard all about it from Bob Stallings."
"Stallings? Who's he?"
"The foreman of the cowboys with whom we are going."
"And were those the fellows that tried to crowd me off the street?"
"I reckon those were the boys," said Ned Rector quietly.
"Then, I can see a nice time when we join them. They will have no lovefor me after what has happened this morning. Where is the camp?"
"I don't know. Professor Zepplin says it's about four miles to the westof here."
"When do we join them?"
"Some time to-night. The foreman says they are going to start atdaylight. He's over at the hotel talking with the Professor now. He wastelling the Professor about your mix-up with Lumpy Bates. That's thename of the cowboy who ran into you. And how he did laugh when I toldhim you belonged to our crowd," chuckled Ned.
"What did he say?"
"Said he thought you'd do. He says we can't use our ponies on thedrive."
"Why not?" asked Tad, looking up quickly.
"Because they are not trained on cattle work."
"Pshaw! I'm sorry. Have we got to leave them here?"
"No. He says we may turn them in with their herd, and use them foranything we care to, except around the cattle. We shall have to ridesome of the bronchos when we are on duty."
"I think I see somebody falling off," laughed Tad. "Ever ride one ofthem, Ned?"
"No."
"Well, you'll know more about them after you have."
"I think I should like to go over and see Mr. Stallings," declared Tad.
"All right, come along, then."
They found the foreman of the outfit discussing the plans for theirjourney with Professor Zepplin, while Stacy Brown and Walter Perkinswere listening with eager attention.
"This is Master Tad Butler, Mr. Stallings," announced the Professor.
"I think I have met the young man before," answered the foreman, with apeculiar smile.
"Tad, I am surprised that you should involve yourself in trouble so soonafter getting out of my sight. I----"
"The boy was not to blame, Mr. Professor. My cowpunchers were wholly inthe wrong. But you need have no fears of any future trouble. The bunchwill be given to understand that the young gentlemen are to be welltreated. You will find no luxuries, but lots of hard work on a cattledrive, young men----"
"Do--do we get plenty to eat?" interrupted Stacy Brown apprehensively.
All joined in the laugh at the lad's expense.
"Chunky's appetite is a wonderful thing, Mr. Stallings," said Tad.
"I think we shall be able to satisfy it," laughed the foreman. "Our cookis a Chinaman. His name is Pong, but he knows how to get up a meal. Ibelieve, if he had nothing but sage grass and sand, he could make apalatable dish of them, provided he had the seasoning. Have you boysbrought your slickers with, you?"
"What's a slicker?" demanded Chunky.
"A rubber blanket that----"
"Oh yes. We bought an outfit of those at Austin," answered Tad."Anything else that you wish us to get?"
"The boys don't carry guns, do they?"
Professor Zepplin shook his head emphatically.
"Most certainly not. They can get into enough trouble without them. Wehave rifles in our kit, but I imagine there will be little use for suchweapons on this trip."
"You can't always tell about that," smiled the foreman. "I remember inthe old days, when we used to have to fight the rustlers, that a riflewas a pretty good thing to have."
"Who were the rustlers?" asked Walter.
"Fellows who rustled cattle that didn't belong to them. But the old dayshave passed. Such a drive as we are making now hasn't been done on solarge a scale in nearly twenty years."
"Why not?" asked Ned.
"The iron trails have put the old cow trails out of business."
"Iron trails?" wondered Tad.
"Railroads. We men of the plains refer to them as the iron trails.That's what they are in reality. Professor, do you wish the boys to taketheir turns on the herd to-night?"
"As you wish, Mr. Stallings. I presume they will be anxious to begintheir life as cowboys. I understand that's an ambition possessed by mostof your American boys."
"All right," laughed the foreman. "I'll send them out as I find I can,with some of the other cowpunchers, until they learn the ropes. There istoo great a responsibility on a night man to trust the boys alone withthat work now. But they can begin if they wish. I'll see first how thebunch get back from their celebration of the glorious Fourth. You'llcome out and have supper with us?"
"No, I think not. We shall ride out just after supper, if you will havesome one to show us the way," answered the Professor.
"Sure, I'll send in Big-foot Sanders to pilot you out. You boys need notbe afraid of Big-foot. He's not half so savage as he looks, but he's agreat hand with cows."
Big-foot Sanders rode up to the hotel shortly after six o'clock. Leadinghis pony across the sidewalk, he poked his shaggy head just inside thedoor of the hotel.
"Ki-yi!" he bellowed, causing everybody within hearing of his voice tostart up in alarm. "Where's that bunch of tenderfeet?"
"Are you Mr. Sanders, from the Miller outfit?" asked the Professor,stepping toward him.
"Donno about the Mister. I'm Big-foot Sanders. I'm lookin' for a bunchof yearlin
gs that's going on with the outfit."
"The young gentlemen will join you in a moment, Mr. Sanders. They willride their ponies around from the stable and meet you in front of thehouse."
"You one of the bunch?"
"I am Professor Zepplin, a sort of companion, you know, for the youngmen."
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot. "I reckon you'd better forget the hard boiledhat you're wearin' or the boys'll be for shooting it full of holes. Takemy advice--drop it, pardner."
"Oh, you mean this," laughed the Professor, removing his derby hat."Thank you. I shall profit by your advice, and leave it here when Istart."
"All the bunch got hard boiled ones?"
"Oh, no. The boys have their sombreros," answered the Professor.
Big-foot grunted, but whether in disapproval or approval, ProfessorZepplin did not know. The cowpuncher threw himself into his saddle, onwhich he sat, stolidly awaiting the arrival of the Pony Riders.
In a short time they came galloping from the stable at the rear of thehotel, and pulled up, facing the cowman.
"This, Mr. Sanders, is Tad Butler," announced the Professor.
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot again. "Hello, Pinto!" he said after a sharpglance into the freckled face. "Who's the gopher over there?"
"That's Stacy Brown, otherwise known as 'Chunky,'" laughed Tad. "This isNed Rector, and the young gentleman at your left is Walter Perkins, allmembers of the Pony Rider Boys' party. We are ready to start wheneveryou are."
For answer, Big-foot touched his pony with a spur, the little animalspringing into a gallop without further command. The Pony Ridersfollowed immediately, Tad riding up beside the big, muscular lookingcowboy, which position he held for half an hour without having been ableto draw a word from him.
Leaving the town due east of them, the party galloped off across thecountry in a straight line until finally the cowman pointed off acrossthe plain to indicate where their destination lay.
A slow moving mass of red and brown and white met the inquiring gaze ofthe boys. At first they were unable to make out what it was.
"Cows," growled the guide, observing that they did not understand.
"What are they doing, Mr. Sanders?" asked Tad.
"Don't 'mister' me. I'm Big-foot. Never had a handle to my name. Neverexpect to. They're grazing. Be rounding them up for bed pretty soon.Ever been on a trail before?"
Tad shook his head.
"We have been up in the Rockies on a hunting trip. This is my firstexperience on the plains."
"Huh! Got good and plenty coming to you, then."
"And I am ready for it," answered the lad promptly. "The rougher thebetter."
"There's the bunch waiting for us. All of them got back from town. Theforeman don't allow the fellows to hang out nights when they're on adrive like this."
Now, the rest of the Pony Rider Boys, understanding that they werenearing the camp of the cowboys, urged their ponies into a brisk gallopand drew up well into line with Tad and Big-foot. That is, all did saveStacy Brown, who, as was his habit lagged behind a few rods.
The cowboys were standing about watching the approach of the newarrivals curiously, but not with any great enthusiasm, for they did notapprove of having a lot of tenderfeet with the outfit on a journey suchas they were taking now. They were bent on grim and seriousbusiness--man's work--the sort of labor that brings out all that is inhim. It was no place for weaklings, and none realized this better thanthe cowmen themselves.
Yet, they did not know the mettle that was in these four young Americanboys, though they were to realize it fully before the boundaries of theLone Star State, had been left behind them.
The Pony Riders dashed up to the waiting cowpunchers with a braveshowing of horsemanship, and sprang from their saddles their eyesglowing with excitement and anticipation.
Bob Stallings, the foreman, was the first to greet them.
"Fellows, this is the bunch I've been telling you about," was Bob'sintroduction. "Where's Lumpy?" he demanded, glancing about him with ascowl.
"Lumpy's over behind the chuck wagon," answered the cowboy of whom thequestion had been asked.
"Lumpy!" bellowed the foreman.
The fellow with whom Tad Butler had had such an unpleasant meeting,earlier in the day, came forward reluctantly, a sudden scowl on hisface.
"Lumpy, this is Tad Butler. Stick out your fist and shake hands withhim!"
Lumpy did so.
"Howd'y," he growled, but scarcely loud enough for any save Tad to hear.
The lad smiled up at him good-naturedly.
"You and I bumped ponies this morning, I guess," said Tad. "Maybe I wasto blame after all. I'll apologize, anyway, and I hope there will be nohard feelings."
"Lumpy!" warned Stallings when he noticed that the cowpuncher had madeno reply to Tad's apology.
"No hard feelings," grunted Lumpy Bates.
He was about to turn away and again seek the seclusion of the chuckwagon, as the cook wagon was called by the cow boys, when Chunky camerolling along. In the excitement of the meeting the boys had forgottenall about him. The Pony Riders swung their sombreros and gave threecheers for Chunky Brown as he dashed up.
Chunky took off his sombrero and waved it at them.
Just then Chunky met with one of those unfortunate accidents that werealways occurring to him. His galloping pony put a forefoot into a gopherhole, going down in a heap.
Chunky, however, kept on.
When the accident happened he was almost upon the waiting cowboys, hisintention having been to pull his pony up sharply to show off hishorsemanship, then drop off and make them a sweeping bow.
Stacy Brown was possessed of the true dramatic instinct, yet few thingsever came off exactly as he had planned them.
As he shot over the falling pony's head, his body described a half curvein the air, his own head landing fairly in the pit of Lumpy Bates'sstomach.
Cowboy and Pony Rider went over in a struggling heap, with the PonyRider uppermost.
Stacy had introduced himself to the cowboys in a most unusual manner,and to the utter undoing of one of them, for the boy's head had for themoment, knocked all the breath out of the surly Lumpy Bates.