CHAPTER VI
THE RUSTLERS
Diamond X ranch was one of the largest in that part of the country.Mr. Merkel's holdings were in one of our western states, not far fromthe Mexican border, which fact was not altogether pleasing to him. Itmade it too easy for cattle thieves to operate, and more than onceDiamond X had suffered from depredations of the "rustlers," as theywere called, doubtless from the fact that they "rustled" or "hustled"cattle that were not their own, off lawful ranges.
But it was all part of the day's work, and Mr. Merkel's ranches weretoo valuable to be disposed of easily, even though their proximity toMexico, the home of lawless "Greasers" and half breeds, was too closefor ease of mind.
Diamond X, like many other western ranches, took its name from thebrand used to mark the cattle that fed on its succulent grass and drankits abundant water. The brand was a diamond with the letter X in thecentre, a mark easily recognized, even at a distance. Other marks wereused on other and adjoining ranches, Mr. Merkel owning two others, oneof which went by the name Square M, from the fact that thedistinguishing brand was a square with the letter M inside. Theother's mark was a triangle with a B in it, that ranch being knownamong the cowboys as the Triangle B.
Double Z was a ranch adjoining that of the Diamond X on the north, HankFisher being the proprietor, while to the west was the Circle T ranch,its cattle being marked with a large circle, in which the letter Tappeared, it being owned by Thomas Ogden, a friend of Mr. Merkel.
"Gosh! But your father has a lot of cows!" exclaimed Nort, as he andhis brother rode along through the early evening, beside Bud. "Must bea million of 'em," added the city youth as, from a rise, he caught aglimpse of many herds, some restrained from wandering by fenced ranges,and others being slowly driven along by cowboys, who waved to Babe,Bud, and the city lads.
"Not quite a million!" laughed Bud. "And we don't call 'em _cows_,though some of 'em are, of course. They're cattle, or steers. Motherkeeps a cow or two for the sake of the milk, and of course our men arecalled cowboys, or punchers, and this is cow country. But we don'tspeak of 'em as herds of cows."
"Glad you told me," murmured Nort. "I'm going to be a ranchman someday, and I want to learn all I can."
"Same here!" commented his brother.
It was a wondrously beautiful night, calm and clear, with the starsshining overhead more brightly than Nort and Dick had ever before seenthem. It is the clearness of the atmosphere in the West that rendersobjects so plain at a distance, that brings out the beauty of the starsand which also enables such wonderful moving pictures to be made. Inthe East the day is rare when there is not some haze. It is just thereverse in the West.
Through the silent night rode the boy ranchers, for Nort and Dick werebeginning to think of themselves in that class. The cousins rodetogether, with Babe in the rear, lugging the bottles of antisepticsthat were destined for the injured men.
"What are those cowboys riding around the cattle for?" asked Nort, asthey turned aside from a large herd restlessly moving amid a constantdull rumble.
"They're driving 'em over to the railroad, to be shipped," explainedBud. "That's what dad raises cattle for--ships 'em away for beef.This bunch has been fattened up on a range we keep specially for that.This is a good time to sell now, prices are high, so we're disposing ofas many as we can.
"The cowboys will drive 'em to the railroad, taking their time, so asnot to run all the fat off the steers. The heavier they are the moremoney we get for 'em. I guess they won't go much farther to-night,though," he added, with a look back at the herd they had passed. "Thisis the first day they've been driven, and we always go a bit slow atfirst."
"Say, but it's great! Wonderful!" exclaimed Nort, half rising in hisstirrups and breathing deep of the pure, keen air, for it was nowchilly.
"You said an earful!" commented his brother. "I wouldn't have missedthis for anything!"
"Glad you like it," murmured Bud.
"What's that--a wolf? A prairie wolf?" asked Nort, suddenly as a sortof whine broke the silence of the night, punctuated otherwise only bythe soft footfalls of the horses.
"Wolf? No!" chuckled Bud. "Don't let Babe hear you say that. It'shim--singing! Lots of the men do it."
As Bud's whisper died away, the assistant foreman let his voice soarfrom a whine into a more or less of a roar, as he intoned:
"Oh, sing to me not of the joys of a city Where innocent cowboys are left in a trance. Give me a hoss, an' some room to do ridin', When I am daid bring me back to the ranch!"
"Does he get that way often?" asked Dick in a whisper, as the cowboybegan on the second verse of what promised to be a lengthy song.
"More or less!" answered Bud. "The cowboys sing a lot, and somehaven't half bad voices. The songs, too, are corkers, some of 'em.They sing 'cause it's lonesome ridin' line, and then, too, it seems tosort of soothe the cattle. Dad has told us, lots of times, where astampede has been stopped just by the bunch singing songs."
"Good idea," commented Nort. "Oh, but this is the life for me!" hechanted.
"Only this ride isn't lasting long enough," said Dick. "That's thecamp, down in there; isn't it?" he asked his cousin, pointing aheadtoward where, in the light of the newly risen moon, could be observedsome white objects.
"Those are the professors' tents," declared Bud. "We got here soonerthan I expected. Talking to you chaps made the time pass quickly."
"What do you think of those fellows, anyhow?" asked Nort, in a lowvoice of his cousin. It was evident he referred to the two scientistswho had been attacked that afternoon.
"I don't know what to think," admitted Bud, frankly. "I never heard ofanything in this part of the country, more valuable than gold, that wasworth prospecting after. There hasn't even any gold been found, as faras I know, though there were rumors that once a prospector made a luckystrike about ten miles from here. But these men do seem to havesomething they're afraid will be taken from them."
"Well, it needn't worry us," commented Dick. "We're going to be cowpunchers--not miners."
"You said it!" declared Nort.
By this time they were within the range of several fires gleaming inthe midst of the camp of the scientists, and a moment later ProfessorBlair emerged from the tent that had been so jealously guarded duringthe day.
"Oh, it's you; is it?" he asked as he recognized the boys and Babe."It is very kind of you, to take this trouble."
"'Sall right," remarked the assistant foreman, as he handed over thebottles of medicine. "Tell th' boss to use it just as it is--don'tneed any dilutin' with water."
"Oh, you mean Professor Wright," said the other, so translating thecowboy's use of the word "boss."
"Yep," answered Babe. "Tell the boss to use it straight."
"Well, he isn't here just now," said the other. "The men who were shotseem to be doing well, however. I'll attend to them myself. Thank youagain."
His voice was cultured and his manner pleasant. But it was evidentthat he invited no confidences.
Little could be made out, even in the moonlight and the gleam of thefire, save the usual scattered camp outfits, and the white tents.
The boy ranchers and Babe had done what they set out to do--deliver themedicine, and no incident had marked their trip, unless the singing ofthe assistant foreman can be called such.
"Some of us'll ride over to-morrow," promised Babe, as he and the boysturned to take the trail back to the ranch.
"Thank you, but we may not be here," remarked Professor Blair. "We maymove on. But thank you, just the same."
"Don't mention it," begged Babe, slightly sarcastic of the other'scultured accent and words. "We aim to please, an' be neighborly."
"Of which you have given ample evidence," was the rejoinder.
"Guess that'll hold him for a while," murmured Bud to his cousins.
"Good-nights" were called and the outfit from Diamond X ranch was onits way again. Nort and Dick were eagerly questioning Bud abo
utwestern matters, learning to their delight that there would be chancesto go hunting and fishing after the big round-up, and Babe wasbeginning on about the forty-seventh verse of his favorite song, whenBud suddenly stopped in the midst of telling some incident, and gazedintently across the rolling range.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick in a whisper, for the silence of thenight, and the strangeness of their surroundings, seemed to call forwhispers.
"I thought I saw cattle moving," said Bud. "Yes, I do!" he went on,quickly. "Look, Babe!"
Babe broke off his song at a point where a dying cowboy was begging tobe "toted back to the chuck house," and looked to where the boy rancherpointed.
"That's it, shore as rattlers!" the assistant foreman said. "It'sabout time they tried suthin' like this! Got your guns, boys?"
"What for?" asked Nort, a thrill of excitement leaping through hisveins. "What is there to shoot?"
"Rustlers!" said Bud, grimly. "Somebody--Greasers, likely--are tryingto run off some of our fat steers! Come on, we'll ride 'em down!" Heclapped spurs to his horse, an example followed by Nort and Dick, but,quick as they were, Babe had shot ahead of them, and in the moonlightthe city lads caught the gleam of his gun as he pulled it from theholster.