CHAPTER X.
AT DOUBLE CROSS RANCH.
The first words spoken by Ned added to the puzzle, for he turned to hischums and propounded a question.
"Did any of you happen to notice which way the pigeon was flying,before the hawk darted out from the trees and chased it?"
"Yes," Jack informed him promptly, "I saw the bird coming away in thedistance, and it was flying as straight as an arrow, when the hawk shotup out of the screen of the trees and made it swerve to try and escape;but it wasn't quick enough."
"Which way was it coming then?" asked Ned.
Jack pointed toward the southeast.
"Right yonder and in the same direction we're heading," he replied.
Ned frowned and looked even more serious.
"Then it begins to look as though this messenger pigeon might have beenfreed from somewhere about your uncle's ranch, Harry, and was makingfor its coop when the hawk killed it. You know they've been known tofly hundreds and hundreds of miles, even from New York to Pittsburgh,and arrive safe, tired, and half-starved after a couple of days."
"It always did beat my time how they did it," said Jack, "though whatyou say is true, every word of it, Ned. But what is there so stunningabout the fact of this bird having been set loose at the ranch? Somepuncher may be a homing pigeon fancier and sends a bird to his home,many miles away, once in so often. It would be a great little stunt, Ishould think."
"Yes, ditto here," added Harry, "so tell us why you think it's queer,Ned."
"On account of the message," replied the scout master.
"Well, we don't know what that is, so read it out!" urged Jack.
"All right, I will," Ned told them, and then glancing down once more atthe thin piece of paper he held he continued: "'Some talk of bothbosses going to W. soon. Be ready to act. Will let you know in time!Chances good for big sweep! We count five!'"
"Glory hallelujah! what's all that patter mean?" gasped Jimmy, whoseemed unable to make head or tail out of the communication.
Jack and Harry, however, realized that Ned was about right when he saidit looked as though there might be more in the message than appeared onthe bare face.
"You notice that it says _two_ bosses, don't you?" asked Ned.
"Yes, and that must refer to my two uncles, Colonel Job Haines andJames Henshaw?" Harry suggested.
"What does the W mean?" asked Jack.
"I think that must be a town on the railroad, where they ship thecattle in season," replied Ned.
"'Be ready to act,' it goes on to say," Jack continued, "which wouldmake it appear as though the writer knew there was some sort of a raidcontemplated."
"A raid!" echoed Jimmy, "faith, d'ye mean by rustlers?"
"That's the only kind of raid cattlemen fear nowadays, since the wildanimals have been well cleaned out and the reds stick to theirreservations pretty much all the time," Harry informed him, "but justto think of what this would stand for, if it's true."
"A traitor or traitors employed at the Double Cross Ranch," the scoutmaster declared. "Well that wouldn't be the first time such a thing hadhappened. In fact, these cattle rustlers usually have means forlearning all that is going on with the punchers. In that way, theymanage to time their raids when most of the hands are away. Seems thatthere might be quite a bunch of the hounds, because he mentions thefact that the party he's sending the message to can count on five tomuss things up at the time the raid is engineered."
Harry laughed grimly.
"Perhaps, now, my Uncle Job won't be tickled half to death to get holdof this telltale message!" he gurgled. "If only he can find who wrotethe same, it'll turn out to be his Waterloo, believe me, if half I'veheard about Uncle Job is true."
"And that ought to be easy," remarked Jack.
"You mean, he could tell from the handwriting?" Harry demanded.
"Yes, but there would be a better way than that," the other scoutcontinued, as he gave Ned a knowing nod.
"'Tis the pigeon, you must mean!" exclaimed Jimmy.
"That's it," Jack acknowledged, "and surely a fellow couldn't keepbirds like that and set one flying every once in so often, withoutothers knowing about it. Find the puncher who's got the homing pigeonfancy and you'll have the leader of the spies at the Double Cross, ifthat's where the bird started from."
The scout master nodded his head approvingly.
"That was well figured out, Jack," he said, "and did your scout logiccredit. A scout has got to keep his wits sharpened and not let anythingslip past him, no matter how small it may seem. Of course, the owner ofthe pigeon must be guilty; and, just as you say, it wouldn't be easyfor him to carry on with his birds unless most of the other punchersknew about it."
"But the message?" Jimmy objected.
"Oh! they didn't see this one, but another that the fellow would besmart enough to get up, and _pretend_ to fasten to the leg of the airtraveler," Jack went on to say, in a way that showed how his mind hadgrasped the subject.
Ned carefully folded the tissue paper and put it safely away in hispocketbook.
"That was the luckiest shot you ever made, I take it, Jimmy," heremarked, turning to the freckled-faced chum, who immediately puffedhis chest out in a ridiculous fashion and began to pretend to take onairs.
"Oh! the rest of you can do some stunts once in a coon's age," he toldthem, "but when it comes right down to taking the cake, you have toapply to your Uncle Jimmy. I managed to land there with both feet. Luckand me, we're bedfellers, you see. But then, far from me 'twould be toboast. It was a fair shot, Ned, I admit it. And the McGraw luck heldgood."
"You'll have to let me in on a little of that, Jimmy," Jack told him,"because you happened to be using my shoulder at the time, remember.Only for that, chances are you'd have lost the hawk and we'd never haveknown that it was a homer he had caught for his lunch.
"Shake on that, Jack; you're in," Jimmy was quick to say.
"But we'd better be going on, hadn't we?" Harry asked. "Because I'mmore anxious now than ever to pull up at the ranch house."
"Yes," Ned informed them, "we've got a long walk ahead of us yet. I'lldo up the pigeon and the hawk to show your uncle, on the quiet, whenthere's no one else around. You see, he's apt to think we may beyarning, because it's a queer and fishy story, come to think of it; andthe more proof we have the better."
"Takes you to look away ahead," declared Jack; "now, like as not, I'dhave tossed both birds away and then wished I hadn't later on. An ounceof prevention is better than a pound of cure, they say. The fellow whocan think ahead takes the cake."
"Then I'm goin' to get busy and be that feller," Jimmy assured them,"because I always did like cake."
The forward march was resumed, with the three burros plodding alongafter their accustomed slow method of travel. They had to be urgedfrequently, with the tickle of a whip. The only times they showedtraces of eagerness were when approaching places where water could behad, and then they almost ran.
As the afternoon wore along, the scouts knew that they were drawingnear a cattle ranch. Many things told them this pleasing news. Theyfound tracks of droves all about them on the grassy plain, and threetimes had they glimpsed a feeding herd in the swale, where some lowhills joined the more level ground.
"I can see houses among the trees ahead there!" announced Ned, after hehad had the field glasses up to his eye for a short time.
All of them wanted to take a look, then, and great was the rejoicingwhen it was found to be true.
"About two miles more of this weary hiking, and then good-bye to it!"Jack gave as his opinion, in which the other joined.
They took a fresh start after that, and it was not long before Jimmydeclared he could see a bunch of riders starting out from the trees andheading toward them.
"They've sighted us," asserted Ned, "and, of course, wonder who we canbe; because Harry here thought to take his uncles by surprise anddidn't tell them when to expect us, except to say, we'd probably
dropin on the ranch if down this way."
"You see," Harry went on to explain, "when I wrote last, it was fromLos Angeles; and, about that time, I didn't feel so sure we'd ever getthrough alive."
"First time I knew you felt worried," Ned told him. "All of you seemedso dead set on carrying out the programme that I couldn't say what Ithought."
"You must mean," Jack said, "that it looked silly and foolish to thinkwe could cross the deserts and mountain canyons in that oldrantankerous automobile?"
Ned laughed.
"Never mind what I thought," he remarked. "It's too late now to cryover spilt milk. We got through, didn't we? And we've had experiencesthat will always stay with us. That's enough. And, at last, we can seeour goal just ahead."
"Hurrah for the Double Cross Ranch!" exclaimed Jimmy.
The half-dozen cowboys came whirling toward them, shouting, swingingtheir hats, and riding as only punchers on the plains can.
"Remember, everybody," warned Ned, "not a word about that hawk andpigeon episode."
"We understand what you mean, Ned," Harry replied.
Presently the mad riders came galloping up in a cloud of alkali dust.
"Told you so, boys!" cried a tall rangy fellow, who sat his pony asthough he might be a part of the animal--one of those Centaurs of old."Ketch on to the scout togs, would you? Say, are you Harry Stevens?"
He had unconsciously picked out Ned when asking this question, becausehe must have somehow seen that he was the leader; perhaps, it waspartly from his looks; and, then again, the fact that Ned had no burroto take care of, while all his companions did, may have had somethingto do with it.
"No, but I'm his chum, Ned Nestor. That's Harry over yonder, and Ireckon now that we're glad to be at the Double Cross."
"But where'd you come from, pard?" demanded the cowboy, who had thrownone leg over his saddle, the better to talk.
"Los Angeles," replied Ned, indifferently.
At that the punchers stared and even exchanged various winks and nods.
"Not with them lazy burros, I opine, pard?" ventured the spokesman.
"Oh! no, we picked these up in the hills, buying them from prospectors,who had had enough and were meaning to go home," Ned informed him.
"That was after our automobile broke down and had to be abandoned, inthe middle of the Mojave Desert," Harry volunteered.
The cow-puncher gave a whistle to indicate his surprise. Ned noticedthat his manner had changed somewhat, too. Doubtless, because theseboys were from the East and somewhat green with regard to ranch ways,he may have imagined, in the beginning, that they were genuinetenderfeet.
He knew better now. Any party of boys who could by themselves crossthat terrible Mojave Desert and make their way down to this countrybordering the Colorado River, must surely be made of the right stuff.
"Get up behind me, Ned, and ride the rest of the way; proud to have youjoin us. And we reckons as how we'll give you the time of your lifewhile you're at the old Double Cross Ranch."
Ned promptly accepted this invitation on the part of the lanky puncher,whom he heard called "Chunky," probably because he was just theopposite; while a real fat roly-poly sort of a rider answered, whenthey addressed him as "Skinny," which made it look as though these boysmight have drawn the wrong slips out of the hat at the ranchchristening.
Jack, Harry and Jimmy were all similarly accommodated with seats, whiletwo other punchers promised to see that the pack animals got in.
A wild ride they made of those two miles. The scouts clasped their armsaround their new friends and held on for dear life; but none of themfell off and presently they found themselves in front of the ranchhouse.
"Sorry to tell ye, Harry," announced the lanky puncher, "that both youruncles, together with a couple of the boys, has headed for therailroad, to fetch home a bunch of imported stock they sent for,meaning to improve the breed of our long horns. So ye'll have to waittwo days or so before you see 'em; but Aunt Mehitabel, she's inside,and will make you all welcome, sure thing."
With that the four punchers were off again, doubtless to attend to someof the duties they were hired to perform.
The four boys stood there exchanging significant looks, as the sun drewnear the distant western horizon.
"Looks some serious, don't it?" remarked Harry.
"Both bosses have gone away just as that message said," Jack observed."I wonder, now, if these conspirators will try to send anothercommunication to their rustler friends."
"I'm afraid that has already been done," Ned told them, "and we werepowerless to stop it. Because just as we rode up, I saw a pigeon flyingin by circles high up in the air; then, as if it had gotten itsbearings, it went off on a straight line into the northwest. That birdmust have carried the news that the time to strike had come."