"He certainly does look wild," added Roger.

"Well, I'm going to ride him anyway--or know the reason why!" cried
Dave, and a look of strong determination came into his face. "Get around
there!" he called sharply to the pony, and then, with a quick leap, he
gained the saddle and dug his knees into the pony's sides. "Let him go!"

Yates released his hold and everybody in the crowd backed away. For a
moment the bronco stood stock-still, his eyes gazing straight ahead.
Then he gave a vigorous shake and took a few steps forward.

"Hurrah! see him ride!" shouted Yates, and winked again at the other
cowboys, who grinned more than ever.

Five steps forward and the bronco halted. Then up in the air he went, a
distance of six or eight feet. He came down "on all fours," good and
hard, and had Dave been resting in the saddle he would have had the wind
knocked out of him completely. But the youth was standing in the
stirrups, and he allowed his body to spring with that of the animal he
hoped to conquer.

[Illustration: Then up in the air he went.--Page 224.]

Three times the bronco tried this trick, and the third time Dave came
close to falling off. Then the bronco gave a dart forward, like an arrow
from a bow.

"There he goes!" yelled the senator's son, but the words were not yet
out of his mouth when the bronco stopped short. Dave slid to the
animal's neck, but there he clung, his face pale and determined, and his
teeth set.

"Hi! hi! what's this!" shouted a voice, and, turning, the crowd saw Sid
Todd approaching on the run. "Yates, what do you mean by letting him git
up on that critter?" he demanded, indignantly.

"Ain't that the bronco you wanted him to try?" asked the other cowboy,
innocently.

"No--an' you know it!" stormed Todd. "Do you want him to break his neck?
Hi, Dave, jump down! You can't tame that beast, nohow!"

"I--I'm all--ri--right!" jerked out Dave, between his teeth. "Ke--keep
away," he added, as Todd came closer, to lend his assistance.

"He's a bad one, boy--one o' the worst on the ranch. Yates had no call
to offer him to you."

"Ke--keep away," was all Dave replied. He could not say more, for the
bronco claimed all his attention.

"Yates, if that boy is hurt, you'll have an account to settle with me,"
said Sid Todd, and shook his fist at the other cowboy.

"I--er--I was sure you wanted me to bring out that beast fer him,"
murmured Yates, uneasily. He was sorry now that he had played the trick
on Dave.

The bronco had taken another run, coming to as sudden a halt as before.
Dave slid up almost to the animal's ears, but still clung on, and
quickly regained his seat in the saddle. Then, without warning, the pony
dropped to the ground and started to roll over.

"Look out! you'll have your leg broken!" yelled Phil. But Dave was on
his guard, and, as the pony dropped, he leaped away to safety. Then, as
the animal arose once more, the youth grabbed the saddle and vaulted
into the seat.

"Say, that's goin' some, I tell you!" roared one of the cowboys in
delight. "He ain't givin' in yet, he ain't!"

"Look out that he don't bang you into a fence, or one of the buildings!"
yelled Sid Todd. He was alarmed, yet delighted at the manner in which
Dave clung to his difficult and dangerous undertaking.

With Dave once more on his back, the pony tried new tactics. Around and
around he went in a circle, sending the dust of the corral flying in all
directions. Then, like lightning, he reversed, nearly breaking his own
neck, and causing Dave to slip far down on the outer side. But the youth
hung to the saddle, and, leaning forward, slapped the bronco a smart
crack on the neck. This he followed up with a blow on the head.

The effect was just what the boy desired. The pony forgot all his
tricks, and leaping high into the air, he shot off like a streak toward
the corral gate. Once outside, he headed for the open plains, going with
the speed of a racer on the track.

"They're off!" cried Roger.

"Don't let him throw you!" yelled Todd.

"Can't we ride after 'em?" queried Phil.

"Sure we can ride after 'em," responded Todd. "An' we better do it, too,
fer there ain't no tellin' what that pony will do to Dave," he added,
anxiously, and with a black look at Yates, which made the other cowboy
cast his eyes to the ground.

On and on sped the bronco, with Dave sitting firmly in the saddle. So
long as the pony kept going, the lad felt he had nothing to fear. But he
was on the alert, for he did not know but that the animal would play
another trick at any instant.

"Go on, old boy!" he muttered. "We've got miles and miles of prairie
ahead of us. Run till you are tired! But remember, you've got to carry
me back," he added, grimly.

Soon the ranch house and the corral were mere specks in the distance,
and then even these faded from view. The pony kept to the open country,
and not once did he slacken his speed.

"I guess he'll drop into a walk when his wind is gone," thought Dave.
But the pony's breathing apparatus showed no sign of giving out. Dave
allowed his eyes to turn back, and calculated he had gone two or three
miles. "Maybe we had better turn back now," he murmured, and tried to
guide the steed in a circle. But this was a failure. The pony kept
straight ahead, running due eastward, as the youth could see by the sun.

"All right, go as far as you please," said Dave, grimly. "If you can
stand it, so can I," and he settled in the saddle.

Another two miles were covered, and then the bronco commenced to slacken
his speed. Dave was on guard at this, and it was well to be, for, a
second later, the pony once more tried the trick of flinging his rider
over his head. But the effort was a failure, and in return Dave dug his
knees deeply into the steed's ribs. Then off went the pony on a run
again.

This time the bronco did not cover over a mile before dropping into a
walk. Then Dave tried again to turn the animal, but without success.

"Don't want to go back, eh?" said the youth. "Well, you've got to, and
that is all there is to it!" And he hit the pony a sharp slap on the
neck and dug his knees into the animal's ribs as before.

The bronco was now losing courage. He commenced to run, but did not keep
it up for more than a hundred yards. But when he dropped into a walk,
Dave urged him up, and again he ran, but now only a dozen steps. Then
the youth pulled on the left rein, and the bronco came around with
scarcely any trouble.

"You aren't mastered yet, but you're pretty close to it," said the boy.
"We are going home, understand, home!"

The bronco moved forward about a hundred feet. Then he deliberately
dropped on the prairie and lay on his side, as quiet as a lamb.

"Want to rest, eh?" said Dave. "Well, not out here. You brought me here
and you've got to take me back. Get up!"

He gave the animal a prod in the side. The bronco kicked out. Then Dave
gave a harder prod. This the pony would not stand, and up he came with
surprising agility. He tried to bolt, but Dave caught the saddle and
clung there. They headed again eastward, away from the ranch.

"All right, now run for it, and keep it up as long as you please!" cried
the boy, and urged the steed forward. Over the prairie the pony sped,
as if he had just started in the race. Thus another mile was covered,
and now Dave calculated he must be six or seven miles from Star Ranch.
The country about him looked strange, and he wondered where he was.
Nothing in the shape of a trail had come to view during the last run.

When the bronco stopped his racing, the youth turned him around again.
He now showed signs of fatigue, but Dave urged him on, digging his knees
into the animal's ribs as tightly as ever. Dave was almost "used up"
himself, but he resolved to make the bronco take him back to the corral
or die in the attempt.

"They shan't have the laugh on me," he argued. "It's back to the ranch
or nothing!"

Dave steered the best course he could for the corral, but with nothing
to guide him he did not know if he was moving exactly in the right
direction or not. He kept on, with his eyes trying to look beyond the
wide-stretching prairies.

Presently he saw in the distance what looked to be a row of low
buildings. He headed in that direction, and then saw that the objects
were moving towards him.

"They can't be buildings, for buildings don't move like that," he mused.
"Must be cattle, or horses. Cattle, most likely."

To avoid the cattle, he turned slightly southward. But the animals kept
coming closer, and now he saw that they were running in something of a
semicircle.

"Can anything be wrong with them?" he asked himself, and watched the
approaching herd with interest. The bronco, too, pricked up his ears,
and gave a sudden snort of alarm.

Then to Dave's ears came the thunder of the herd's hoofs, and he saw
that the cattle were on a mad run. He drew rein and stood up in his
stirrups.

The sight that met his gaze was truly alarming. At least a thousand head
of steers were coming toward him, running swiftly, and with their horns
bent low.

"They have stampeded!" he gasped. "And they are coming straight this
way! What shall I do to escape them?"




CHAPTER XXIV

THE CATTLE STAMPEDE


Dave had often heard of cattle stampedes, and he knew how truly
dangerous such a mad rush can become. Sometimes, from practically no
cause whatever, a herd of cattle will start on a wild run, going they
know not where, and carrying all down before them.

What had started the present stampede did not interest the youth, but he
was interested in the question of how he might get out of the herd's
way, so that he would not be run down and trodden to a jelly. To scare
the leaders off might be easy, but would not those in the rear push on
until he was simply overwhelmed?

"I've got to get away somehow!" he reasoned, and turned his pony at
right angles to the approaching cattle. For the moment the bronco seemed
too frightened to budge, but at a cry from Dave, he leaped forward, and
then went streaking across the prairies as if he knew his life and that
of his rider depended on his speed.

It was now a race for life, for the cattle were still moving in
something of a semicircle, and Dave did not know whether or not he would
be able to clear the end of the line before it reached him. He called to
the pony, but this was unnecessary, for the bronco evidently understood
the peril fully as well as his rider.

Suddenly, when it looked as if pony and youth could not escape, Dave
heard a whistle float across the prairie. Looking in the direction, he
made out the form of Sid Todd, riding like the wind toward him. Behind
him came Roger and Phil, but the two boys were soon stopped and told to
go back.

"I'll head 'em off!" yelled Todd, coming closer. And waving his big
sombrero in one hand he commenced to fire his pistol with the other. He
shot rapidly, aiming for the ground and sending streaks of dust into the
air. All the time he yelled at the top of his lungs, and, understanding
the move, Dave yelled too, and swung one arm wildly.

Soon the leaders of the herd took notice and came to a sudden halt. The
rest of the cattle shoved from behind, and then the leaders broke, some
going to the right, and the others to the left.

"Look out, Roger! Phil! They are coming your way!" screamed Dave.

He was right, and for the minute it looked as if Dave had been saved at
the expense of his chums. But only a few cattle were headed for the
other boys, and as soon as Roger and Phil commenced to yell and wave
their arms, these broke again, and thus the herd was completely
scattered. They ran a short distance further, then halted, and a little
later began to graze as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Are you all right, son?" asked Sid Todd, anxiously, as he ranged up
beside Dave.

"Yes, but--I--I am a lit--tle wi--winded," answered Dave, when he could
speak.

"Good enough! Then you mastered the bronco, eh? Didn't he throw you at
all?"

"No."

"Didn't he roll?"

"Oh, yes, and I got off and on pretty quick, I can tell you."

"It's wonderful! I never would have thought it!" And Sid Todd's face
showed his great admiration. "Why, don't you know that that is one of
the wickedest ponies on this ranch? Yates and some of the others have
tried to ride him more than once."

"And they couldn't do it?"

"Not much they couldn't! Why, that pony bit one of the men in the arm
when he got too near!"

"He snapped at me once."

"Did, eh?"

"Yes, and I slapped his face."

"Well, that's the best way--show 'em you ain't afraid. But it's
wonderful! When I see you on this pony I was sure you'd be killed, and I
made up my mind to give Yates the wust lickin' he ever had."

"He's as mild as a lamb now," went on Dave, as he eyed the pony.

"Don't you go for to trustin' him too much, yet," were Sid Todd's words
of warning, and Dave took them to heart, and it was well he did so, for
while returning to the ranch, the bronco tried several tricks to get rid
of his rider, but without success.

"I never thought you would do it," said Roger, earnestly. "Are you sure
he is safe now?" he added, anxiously.

"I wouldn't try to ride that beast for a million dollars," was Phil's
comment. "When he went off with you I thought you'd never get back to
tell the story. Roger and I and Todd were so worried we rode after you
just as fast as we could."

"I hope the girls don't hear of this," said Dave. "If they do, they'll
worry themselves sick every time we go out."

"Oh, we've got to let folks know how you busted that bronco!" cried Sid
Todd. "Why, son, you don't understand, but it's the finest bit o'
bustin' ever done on this ranch!" he added, vehemently.

"Well, I am glad I won out, for one thing," answered Dave, dryly. "You
won't have to give Yates that licking." And this remark made the cowboy
laugh in spite of himself. Nevertheless, later on he gave Yates a
lecture that the latter never forgot.

"The boy had one chanct in a hundred o' winning out," was what he said.
"One chanct in a hundred, an' you knew it! If he had broken his neck I'd
'a' held you responsible, an' so would the boss."

"But he's a great rider," pleaded Yates.

"Sure he is, better nor you'll be if you live to be a hundred, Yates.
But it was wrong to pile such a thing up his back,--an' don't you go for
to do it again."

The news soon spread that Dave had "busted" the wild bronco, and this,
coupled with the fact that he had aided in bringing down the bobcat,
gave him an enviable reputation among the cowboys. But the girls were
quite alarmed, Jessie and Laura especially.

"Oh, Dave, how could you!" cried Jessie, when they were alone.

"Well, Jessie, you wouldn't want me to appear like a coward, would you?"
he asked.

"No, of course not, Dave! But--if you had been--killed!"

"I was watching out, I can tell you that," he answered, and then
changed the subject, for he did not like to see the girl he admired so
distressed.

After the excitement of the bronco riding, the boys were glad enough to
take it easy for several days. Belle had a tennis court and a croquet
ground, and they played each game for hours at a time. The girls were
all good players and won the majority of the games.

"Tennis and croquet are all well enough when you have nice girls to play
with," remarked Roger. "But otherwise I fancy I'd find them dead slow."

"He'd play twenty-four hours at a stretch with Laura," was Phil's
comment.

"Not to mention how long you'd play with Belle," retorted the senator's
son.

"Dave doesn't care to play at all when Jessie is around," went on Phil,
slyly.

"Neither of 'em cares to play--if there's a hammock and a chair handy,"
added Roger.

"I noticed yesterday, when Jessie and I were playing tennis, you fellows
were so busy talking to the girls you forgot all about your games,"
retorted Dave. "And one of you was spouting poetry, about 'eyes divine,'
or something like that."

"Not me!" cried Roger.

"Then it must have been Phil!"

"No, it was Roger," protested the shipowner's son. "I saw him writing
poetry when he should have been sending a letter home."

"You go on, you manufacturer of bombastic fairy tales!" cried the
senator's son, and he commenced to chase Phil around the piazza. The
other boy leaped the rail and Roger followed, and then both commenced to
wrestle on the grass.

"Mercy me! What's going on?" cried Laura, coming from the sitting-room.

"Greatest exhibition on the globe!" called out Dave, in showman style.
"The two marvelous lightweights of the United States, Master Hitem Morr
and Lamem Lawrence. They will fight to a finish, without gloves, weather
permitting. Walk up, tumble up, or crawl up! Admission ten cents, one
dime; young ladies with grandfathers in arms, half-price!"

"Oh, Dave!" cried his sister, and burst out laughing. The noise brought
Jessie and Belle to the scene, and seeing what was going on, all of the
girls commenced to pelt the boys on the grass with tennis balls. The
"attack" lasted for several minutes, and then the girls ran away, and
the boys went after them, into the house and out again, and across the
yard, and then through the kitchen, much to the astonishment of the
Chinese cook. Here Phil scooped up a ladleful of soup.

"Halt, base enemy!" he cried, holding the soup aloft. "One step closer
and thou shalt be----" And then he slipped and the soup slopped over his
hand and his shoes. He ran for the yard again, dropped on a bench, in
mock exhaustion; and there the others joined him; and the fun, for the
time being, came to an end.

"We are going to the railroad station this afternoon with papa," said
Belle. "Want to go along?"

"Will a duck drink ice-cream soda!" cried Roger. "Of course we will go
along."

"Then you had better get ready now--for we are to start directly after
lunch."

"Anything special at the station?" questioned Dave.

"Papa is going to see a man about some horses. He wants to buy a few
more good ones, if he can."

"It's a pity we can't find out what became of the others," went on Dave.

It took the girls some time to prepare for the journey to the railroad
station, so the start from Star Ranch was not made until after two
o'clock. Mr. Endicott rode in advance, and the young folks paired off in
couples after him.

When they got to the bridge Dave was much surprised to see a couple of
men at work repairing the structure. They were putting down some
planking that was bound to last a long while.

"Mr. Merwell must have opened his heart at last," said Dave, to the
railroad president.

"Not at all, Dave; I am having this work done," was Mr. Endicott's
reply.

"But I thought you said it was up to Mr. Merwell to keep this bridge in
repair."

"So it is, but as he won't do anything, rather than have a quarrel, I am
repairing it myself."

"Do you think he wants to sell out? Maybe that is his reason for not
spending money in repairs."

"He will sell out, but his price is very high--too high to suit the man
who wants to buy."

Leaving the vicinity of the bridge, the party continued on the way to
the railroad station. The train was not yet in, but it soon arrived and
on it came the man Mr. Endicott wished to see. From the train also
stepped Hank Snogger. The ranch hand had evidently been to a barber in
the city, for he was shaven and his hair was closely trimmed.

"He looks like quite a different person," remarked Belle. "He always
wore his hair long and straggly before."

"Yes, and he wasn't any too clean," answered Dave. "Now he is well
washed and brushed."

Hank Snogger walked around the station on an errand, and then came up to
where a horse was waiting for him. As he did this he passed quite close
to the boys and girls and gave the former a cold stare.

"Do you know, I feel sure I have seen somebody that looks like him,"
said Dave in a whisper. "I said so before. But I can't place the man."

"Yes, I've seen somebody that looked like him, too," added Roger. "It
was while we were coming out here. Now let me think." And he rubbed his
chin reflectively.

"Here's a letter about that boy we helped, Charley Gamp," said Phil, who
had just received the mail.

"Charley Gamp!" cried Dave. "That's it--that's the same face! This Hank
Snogger looks exactly like Charley Gamp!"




CHAPTER XXV

THE BEGINNING OF THE GRAND HUNT


Dave's announcement produced a little sensation, and for the moment his
chums stared at him in astonishment.

"Come to think of it, that man does look like the little newsboy," said
Roger, slowly. "Do you suppose they can be related?"

"I'd hate to think that Charley Gamp was related to such a fellow," said
Phil. "Snogger isn't a nice sort to have anything to do with."

"Mr. Endicott said he didn't use to be so bad," answered Dave. "It is
only lately--since he went to work for Mr. Merwell--that he has grown
dissolute."

"Maybe he is sorry that he left the Endicott place," said the senator's
son. "I'll wager he has no such nice times at the Triple X Ranch as he
had at the Star."

"Not if all the cowboys are like those who came to our entertainment,"
said Phil. "But, Dave, if you think he's related to Charley Gamp, why
not speak to him about it?"

"You may get into trouble if you do," interposed Roger, hastily. "Some
of these Western characters don't like to have their past raked up."

"But Charley Gamp wants to find his relatives," went on the shipowner's
son.

"I'll bring it around--when I get the chance," said Dave. "But I can't
do it now," he added. "He's gone." And Dave was right. Hank Snogger had
leaped on his horse, and was off, on a trail that led up the river
instead of across it.

"What are you boys confabbing about?" cried Belle, coming up, with a box
of candy in her hand.

"We were just wondering where we'd get some candy," answered Dave,
innocently. He did not think it wise to mention Snogger just then.

"Indeed! Well, I bought this from the candy man of the train. He is
waiting for the down train."

"Where is he?" questioned Roger.

"Down the track--by the water tower."

"We'll raid him!" cried the senator's son, and then he and Dave and Phil
set off on a footrace in the direction of the man who sold candy,
cigars, and magazines. They found that he had a pretty fair stock of
candy and magazines, and each boy purchased what he thought would suit
the others and himself. In the fun and good spirits that followed Hank
Snogger was, for the time being, forgotten.

Two days later there was a rounding-up of some of the cattle and the
boys were allowed to participate. They went out with Sid Todd, who had
charge of the round-up, and were in the saddle from early morning until
late at night. The cattle were gathered in a valley up the river, sorted
out from some belonging to Mr. Merwell and Mr. Hooper, and then driven
off to a stockyard along the railroad line.

"Not so exciting as I thought it would be," said Dave, after the
round-up was over.

"I've had all the riding I want for one day," answered the shipowner's
son.

"That's right," grumbled Roger. They had had only a quarter of an hour's
rest for lunch. "I reckon some of us will be stiff in the morning," and
he was right, all felt somewhat sore.

The round-up had been a careful one, for Mr. Endicott had heard that Mr.
Merwell was finding fault over the way some of his cattle were being
chased by the cowboys. The following afternoon the Merwells--father and
son--met Mr. Endicott as he and Belle were riding along the trail,
talking over the family's plans for the coming winter.

"See here, I want to speak about my cattle," cried Mr. Merwell,
wrathfully, as he drew rein.

"Some time when I am alone, Mr. Merwell," answered the railroad
president. He quickly saw that his neighbor was "spoiling for a fight."

"Your men took three or four of my steers," went on Mr. Merwell. "I
won't stand for it."

"That can't be so, Mr. Merwell. My man, Todd, is a careful rounder, and
he told me he was sure of the brands."

"He ain't careful at all," broke in Link. "He drinks and he don't know
what he is doing."

"This is an affair between your father and myself," said Mr. Endicott,
stiffly. "You will kindly keep out of it."

"Huh! I guess I can have my say!" growled Link.

"I shall hold you responsible for every head of cattle of mine that is
missing," continued Mr. Merwell, with a dark look.

"I am willing to pay for every head that Todd drove off that did not
belong to us," answered Mr. Endicott. "But he assured me that he took
only our own. I will look into the matter when I get back to the ranch."
And, bowing stiffly, the railroad president rode on, with Belle beside
him. As they passed, Link "made a face" at Belle, but the young lady
refused to notice him.

As soon as he returned to the ranch, Mr. Endicott called up Sid Todd,
and then some of the other cowboys, and questioned them closely about
the cattle sent off. The head herder indignantly denied that he had
included any outside cattle, and his story was corroborated by the
others.

"I can leave it to Bill Parker, Mr. Hooper's man," said Todd. "He was
there. If Merwell didn't want to take our word, why didn't he send a man
down? We notified him that we was going to make a shipment."

"Have the steers been shipped yet?"

"No--not till to-morrow."

"Then ride down to the yard and have Harrison go over them and write out
a declaration that they are all ours," added the ranch owner.

"It's a good deal of work," grumbled the cowboy.

"I know it, but I'll pay Harrison. With a declaration from Harrison, Mr.
Merwell will have no claim."

The ranch owner's orders were carried out, and the next day a duplicate
of the stockyard man's declaration,--that the cattle were all of the
Star Ranch brand,--was delivered to Mr. Merwell.

"Huh! needn't tell me!" he sniffed, after reading the paper. "I guess
Harrison is playing into Endicott's hands."

"You tell Harrison that--if you dare," answered the messenger, who had
delivered the paper. Harrison was known to be a fair and square but
high-tempered individual, and one who could shoot, and shoot straight.

"Oh, I--er--I didn't mean--er--anything against Harrison," answered
Felix Merwell, hastily. "I think Endicott is deceiving him, that's all.
But it is not his fault. I--er--suppose, though, I'll have to let the
matter drop. Just the same, I think some of my cattle slipped into that
drove." And there the matter rested. Mr. Merwell knew he was in the
wrong, but he was too mean a man to acknowledge it. Truly, father and
son were equally despicable.

"I wish he would sell out," said Belle, to the other girls. "But I am
afraid he won't--he'll stay here just so he and Link can worry us."

"Maybe he wants you to sell out," said Jessie.

"Well, we'll not do it," answered Belle, with spirit.

On the following day the boys and girls went out on a picnic, taking a
generous lunch with them. They persuaded Mr. and Mrs. Endicott to go
along with them, and after they returned home the ranch owner and his
wife said they felt ten years younger. They had joined in all the games
played, helped to build a campfire and make coffee, and "cut up" just as
if they were young themselves.

"Oh, if only papa and mamma were here!" sighed Jessie. "I must write
them a long letter, telling them all about it!" And the letter was
penned the next morning. On that day came a letter from Dunston Porter,
stating he would stop at Star Ranch for them ten days from date.

"Only ten days more!" cried Dave. "My, how the time flies!"

There was also a letter from Nat Poole, in which Nat stated that he had
been looking for the fellow who called himself Tom Shocker and had at
last located the rascal in a town not far from Buffalo. He had accused
the man of the robbery at the hotel, and caused the fellow to give up
the stickpin and also a pawn-ticket for the watch. The timepiece had
been recovered, and both articles were now at the Wadsworth home,
waiting for Dave.

"Well, I am glad Nat got the things back," said Dave.

"Maybe that will be a lesson to him, not to trust strangers in the
future," was Phil's comment. "But how about the money?"

"Nat says Shocker spent that."

"Then Nat will have to make it good," said Roger.

"Yes, he says he will," answered Dave.

"What about that grand hunt we were to have?" questioned Roger. "Only
ten days more, remember."

"I'll see Todd about it at once," was Dave's answer.

The matter was talked over, not only with the cowboy, but with the
others, and it was finally decided that the boys and Todd should leave
the ranch home two days later, for a hunt that was to last three and
possibly four days. They were to go on horseback, and carry with them a
small tent and a fair supply of provisions, as well as two rifles and
their shotguns, and the cowboy's pistol.

"We'll strike out straight for the mountains," said Todd. "To be sure,
we may find some game in the hills close by, but in the mountains we'll
be certain to run down something worth while."

"Well, you look out that something doesn't run you down--a bear, for
instance," said Laura.

"Boys that can kill a bobcat can kill a bear, if they try," answered Sid
Todd.

The boys were in great delight, and spent every minute of their time in
getting ready for the trip. Guns were cleaned and oiled, and they sorted
and packed their ammunition with care. Mr. Endicott had a compact
camping outfit, consisting of dishes and cooking utensils, and the
little tent, and these were made into convenient packs for the horses,
and the provisions were likewise strapped up properly. Todd aided in
all, and the lads had to admire how deftly he put things together so
that they might be carried with comparative ease.

"He has been there before, that is plain to see," said the senator's
son.

"A fine man," declared Dave, heartily. "I shall feel perfectly safe with
him along."

The girls were sorry to see the boys go, yet every one of them wished
the lads the best of luck.

"Please don't run into any danger!" pleaded Jessie.

"Don't shoot at a bear unless you know you can get away from him if you
miss him," cautioned Laura.

"And, above all, don't get lost in the mountains," was Belle's advice.

It had looked like rain the night before, and the boys were worried, not
wishing to depart in the wet. But the sun came out full in the morning,
and their spirits at once arose. Roger could not contain himself and
whistled merrily, while Phil did a double shuffle while waiting for
breakfast. Dave was also happy, although sorry that the girls, and
especially Jessie, would not be along.

"All ready!" cried Todd, half an hour later, when the horses had been
brought around to the piazza.

"I am!" cried Dave.

"So am I," came from Phil and Roger.

"Then good-by, everybody!" shouted the cowboy, swinging his sombrero,
and off he galloped. The boys said farewell, the girls waved their
handkerchiefs, one of the hands fired off his pistol, and away the lads
went after Todd; and the grand hunt was begun.

It was still early and delightfully cool, with a faint breeze blowing
from the distant mountains, for which they were headed. Todd had already
told them that they were to keep on steadily until exactly noon,
crossing the river, and following a brook that came from the upper
hills.

"I know a fine spot to stop for dinner," he said. "And we can make it if
you'll keep up with me." He always took his dinner at noon, having no
use for "lunch" at any time.

On and on over the smooth plains the party galloped, and by the middle
of the forenoon reached the river.

"No use in stopping for a mess of fish, I suppose," said the senator's
son, wistfully.

"You can catch 'em up in the hills just as well," answered the cowboy.
"Sweeter, too, maybe," he added. Many fishermen think that the higher up
a stream you go for fish, the sweeter they are to the taste.

The cowboy had certainly set a smart pace, but none of the boys
grumbled, for they were as anxious as he to reach the mountains and look
for game.

"Of course you can keep your eyes open around here," he said, as they
galloped along. "But you won't see much, I'm afraid."

"I see some grouse!" cried the shipowner's son, a few minutes later. "We
might bring some of those down and cook them for supper. We won't want
to wait to do it for dinner."

He pointed to some grouse far away, and all agreed that the fowls would
make good eating. They rode behind some bushes, tied their horses, and
went forward with caution. All fired together, and when the smoke
cleared away they saw that four of the game had been laid low. The rest
had flown away, and to follow them would have been useless.

"Well, four are all right!" cried Roger, and was about to rush forward
to pick up the grouse when of a sudden Dave yelled to him to stop.

"What's the matter?" asked the senator's son.

"A snake!" screamed Phil. And as he spoke all in the party saw what Dave
had first discovered. A rattlesnake had appeared from a hole in a tree,
close to where the dead grouse lay!




CHAPTER XXVI

AFTER DEER


"A rattlesnake!"

"Take care that he doesn't bite you!"

"My, what a big fellow!"

"He is heading this way!"

Such were some of the cries uttered by the young hunters and Sid Todd as
all beheld a large-sized snake crawling from a hole under the tree. That
it was a rattler there was no doubt.

All leaped back, for the sight momentarily stunned them. But then Dave
recovered his presence of mind and blazed away with his shotgun, hitting
the reptile in the middle, and inflicting several ugly but not mortal
wounds. The rattlesnake gave a hiss, glided under some leafy bushes, and
there commenced to sound his rattles.

"He's going to strike!" cried Phil, and as he spoke the shotgun in Sid
Todd's hands was discharged. He fired among the leaves, and whether or
not he hit the snake, nobody could tell.

"Don't go near him," called out Roger. He hated snakes about as much as
he hated anything.

All waited, and while doing so, Dave and Todd took the opportunity to
reload. They were just finishing when Phil, chancing to look behind
them, uttered a yell that would have done credit to an Apache Indian.

"Look out! One of 'em is behind us!"

The others all took his word for it, and leaped to one side. True
enough, a second rattlesnake had appeared, and now a third was coming to
light, from under a rock near by.

"It's a den of rattlers!" screamed Sid Todd. "Run for it, boys! No use
of trying to kill 'em off! They are too many for us!"

The boys were already running at top speed, and the cowboy joined them.
In order to gain the horses, they had to move in a semicircle. When they
reached the animals, they found the steeds exceedingly nervous and
inclined to bolt.

"Reckon they smell the snakes," was Todd's comment. "A hoss ain't got no
use for rattlers--and I ain't nuther," he added, and rode away, with the
boys beside him.

"What about the grouse?" asked Phil, mournfully.

"Do you want to go back after them?" questioned Dave, with a grim smile.

"Not for a thousand dollars!"

"Then I guess we'll have to let the snakes have them," went on Dave.
"Let us be thankful that we weren't bitten."

"Rattlesnakes is the one drawback to this country," said the cowboy,
when they were a safe distance from the reptiles. "I don't mind wild
beasts, but I do draw the line on snakes. But there ain't near so many
as there used to be, an' some day there won't be any at all."

"After this I am going to beware of holes that look snaky," was Roger's
comment. "I think if a rattlesnake got close to me I'd be paralyzed with
fright."

As they went on, they kept their eyes open for more game, and just
before resting for dinner Dave saw some grouse high up in a tree in a
hollow. With caution they advanced, this time on horseback, and all
fired together as before. Out of the tree fluttered seven grouse, for
they had been close together and the shot had created great havoc. All
but one were dead and the seventh was quickly dispatched by Todd.

"We'll have some good eating to-night, after all," said Roger, with a
grin. He liked fowl of all kinds.

The stop for dinner was made beside a mountain spring, where the water
was icy cold and as clear as crystal. They took their time eating, thus
allowing the horses a chance to rest and to crop the nearby grass.

"We have covered about twenty miles," said the cowboy, in reply to a
question from Phil.

"Then, if we do as well this afternoon, we'll be forty miles from the
ranch by the time we camp to-night."

"We'll not make over ten or twelve miles this afternoon, lad," was the
answer. "It will be hard climbing up the hills."

"But harder climbing to-morrow," put in Dave.

"Yes, to-morrow will test the horses, and test you, too," said Todd.

It was very pleasant to rest in the shade after such a long ride in the
sun, but the cowboy was anxious to reach a certain camping spot for the
night, and so he allowed only three-quarters of an hour for the midday
halt.

As soon as they left the spring, the youths realized what was before
them. The trail now led constantly upward, and was in parts stony and
uncertain. In several places they had to leap brooks of fair size.

"This isn't so nice," remarked Phil, as they came to a halt, to allow
the horses to rest after a particularly difficult hill had been climbed.

"Oh, this is nothing to the traveling we'll do to-morrow," answered Sid
Todd. "We are only in the foothills now--to-morrow we'll be right in the
mountains."

About four o'clock they gained the top of another hill. As they came out
in a cleared spot all gazed around with interest.

"Look!" cried Dave, pointing with his hand. "Am I mistaken, or are those
deer?"

He was pointing to the top of another hill about half a mile distant.
There, outlined against the sky, could be seen a number of animals
grazing.

"Deer, my boy!" cried Sid Todd. "A fine lot of 'em, too, or I'm
mistaken!"

"Oh, let us go after them!" exclaimed Roger, impulsively.

"I'm willing," answered the cowboy. "But I don't know if you can get any
of 'em to-night. It will be a hard climb to where they are. I don't know
as we can go all the way on hosses."

"Then we'll go on foot," cried Dave. He was as anxious as his chums to
get a shot at the big game.

The cowboy studied the situation for several minutes, meanwhile
withdrawing himself and the others to a spot where the distant deer
might not see them. Then he led the party down the hill and in the
direction of the game.

If traveling had been hard before, it was doubly so now, and the chums
realized that to get to where the deer were grazing would be no easy
matter. They had to slip and slide over the rocks, and once or twice
they reached places where further progress seemed impossible.

"If we get any of those deer, we'll earn them!" panted Phil, as he half
climbed, half slid, over some rocks. "If my horse goes down, I don't
know what will happen to me!" he added.

"We'll not go much further on hossback, I'm thinking," answered Todd.
"We can't afford to injure our animals."

Between the hills was a small valley and here the cowboy said they had
better tether their steeds and leave them.

"Even if we don't get back, they'll likely be safe till morning," he
added.

"If we have to remain away all night, we had better take some eating
with us," said Phil.

"We sure will," answered Todd, and he gave each of the party something
to carry on his back and in his gamebag.

"Now for a climb that is a climb!" cried Dave. "Roger, this puts me in
mind of some climbing I did in Norway."

"Were you in Norway?" questioned Sid Todd, curiously.

"Oh, yes, I once went there to find my father," answered Dave.

Before them was a steep incline, covered with stones and a stunted
growth of cedars. Up this they went with care, for some of the stones
were loose and afforded only an uncertain footing. Once Phil slipped and
commenced to roll. He bumped against Dave, and both went flat.

"Grab a tree!" sang out Roger. But there was no need to offer this
advance, for Dave had already done so. He saved himself and Phil from
rolling further. But a frying-pan the shipowner's son carried broke
loose from the pack on his back and went clattering down the rocks to
the very foot of the hill.

"For the love of flapjacks, stop that noise!" cried Sid Todd, in a low
voice. "Time you get to the top of the hill them deer will be ten miles
away!"

"I--I couldn't help it," answered Phil, as he arose and gazed
sorrowfully after the frying-pan. "Shall I go back after it?" he asked.

"Where is it?"

"I see it--sticking in the fork of a cedar tree," answered Roger, and
pointed out the pan.

"Let it alone--we can get it when we come back," said the cowboy. "Now
don't make any more noise, or you won't get no chanct at them deer, mark
my words!"

All of the boys understood the importance of keeping quiet, and as they
neared the top of the hill where the deer had been discovered, they
moved with great caution and spoke only in whispers.

"The wind is blowing toward us, and that's in our favor," said Sid Todd.

"I know it," answered Dave. "Deer can scent a fellow a long way off if
the wind is towards them."

The cowboy now took the lead and told the lads not to make a sound that
was unnecessary. Thus they covered another hundred yards. Here was a
ridge of rocks and beyond the top of the hill.

"They are gone!" murmured Roger, as his eyes discovered that the top of
the hill was abandoned.

"I'll crawl forward and take a look," said Todd. "Keep quiet now, or we
won't git nuthin'."

The cowboy disappeared over the top of the hill, crawling forward on his
hands and knees. He was gone fully ten minutes--a time that to the boys,
just then, seemed like an age. They looked to their weapons, to see that
the firearms were ready for use.

Presently Dave, who was on the watch, saw Todd arise in a clump of
bushes on the other side of the hilltop. He was beckoning for the boys
to advance. One hand he held over his mouth, to enjoin silence.

With their hearts beating more rapidly than usual, the three young
hunters wormed their way over the top of the hill and joined the cowboy.
In silence Todd pointed to a distance below them. There, on a sort of
cliff on the hillside, were the deer, ten in number, grazing
peacefully.

"Oh, what a shot!" whispered Dave, and his eyes brightened as he swung
his gun into position.

"Wait!" said Todd, in a whisper. "I'll take the one on the right. You
take the one on the left."

"I'll take the one close to the tree," whispered the senator's son.

"And I'll take the one by the big rock," added Phil.

"All right," agreed the cowboy. "Now, remember, if some are only
wounded, shoot at 'em again, any one of you. And be quick, for they'll
streak it like greased lightning as soon as the guns go off."

All took aim with care, resting their gun-barrels on the bushes before
them. Then the cowboy gave the order to fire.

As if by instinct the deer looked up just as the order to fire was
given. They were fairly close to hand and afforded good targets for the
hunters. The firearms rang out almost simultaneously, and two of the
deer leaped into the air, to fall back dead. The others started to run,
some jumping from the top of the cliff to the rocks far below. Again the
weapons were discharged, and this time a third deer fell. The fourth was
badly wounded and toppled down in a split of the cliff.

"Hurrah! we've got 'em! We've got 'em!" cried Phil, and commenced to
leap about in pure joy.

"We've got 'em--to get!" answered Sid Todd. "But you did well--all of
you!" he added, admiringly.

"How are we to get down to the cliff?" questioned Roger, anxiously.

"The deer got down--we had better follow their trail," answered Dave.

They made an examination, and presently found a run leading to one end
of the cliff. The walking was dangerous and they had to be careful, for
fear of going further than intended. But inside of a quarter of an hour
all were standing where the deer had stood. They found three of the game
dead and quickly put the fourth out of its misery.

"This is worth coming for," declared Dave, with pride.

"It is indeed--even if we don't get anything else," added Phil.

"But we are going to get more," cried Roger, the fever of the hunter
taking possession of him. "Just wait till we strike an elk, or a bear!"

"No more hunting this day," sang out Todd. "Time we take care of these
animals and make a camp it will be dark."




CHAPTER XXVII

THE MOUNTAIN LION


"What are we to do with so much venison?" questioned the senator's son.
"We can't eat it, and it seems a shame to allow it to go to waste."

"I wish we could send some to the ranch," said Dave. "I'd like the girls
to know how lucky we have been the first day out."

"If you wanted to stay here and camp for a day, I could take some of the
game to the ranch," said Sid Todd.

"But it is such a ride," argued Phil. "We don't want to impose on good
nature."

"I won't mind the ride. But can you boys take care of yourselves while I
am gone?"

"To be sure we can," answered Dave.

"Then I'll take three of the deer with me and come back as soon as I
can. One deer will be all you will need," answered Sid Todd.

To get the deer from the cliff they had to use a long lariat the cowboy
had brought with him. By this means the game was hoisted to the
hilltop. Then they "toted" their loads down to where they had left
their horses.

"I'll take two of the hosses, if you don't mind," said the cowboy, and
it was agreed that he should take Dave's animal along with his own. He
decided to start for the ranch that night, stating he would camp at the
spot where they had had dinner.

The boys found a locality that pleased them, and there erected the tent
and started a campfire. The frying-pan had been recovered from where it
had landed and restored to the outfit. Before leaving them, Todd showed
the boys how to skin the deer and cut up the meat.

For a little while after they were left alone the chums felt somewhat
lonely. They piled the wood on the fire, thereby creating a lively
blaze, and fixed themselves a substantial meal of venison steak,
flapjacks and coffee, and took their time over the repast. By the time
they had finished, night had fallen over the hills and mountains, and
one by one the stars showed themselves in the heavens.

"This certainly is Lonesomehurst!" was the comment of the shipowner's
son, as he gazed around the camp. "When you really get to think of it,
it gives one the shivers!"

"Then don't think about it," answered Dave. "Let us be cheerful and tell
ghost stories. I know a dandy story--about four travelers who were
murdered in some lonely mountains by brigands, and----"

"You shut up!" cried Roger. "Don't you want a fellow to sleep to-night?"

"But I thought you wanted me to tell a story," went on Dave, innocently.

"I don't want to listen to such a story as that!"

"Nor do I!" added Phil. "Let's talk about schooldays, and the last game
of football, or baseball, or something like that."

"If only the other fellows were here," murmured Dave. "Shadow Hamilton,
and Buster Beggs, and Polly Vane, and Luke Watson, and----"

"Luke could give us a tune on his banjo," put in the senator's son.

"Yes, and Shadow would tell funny stories, not ghost stories," added
Phil.

"We'll have a story or two to tell, when we get back to Oak Hall,"
continued Dave. "I wish we could have had one of the deer stuffed for
the museum."

"Too late now. But maybe we'll get another," answered Phil.

All of the boys were tired, yet it was nearly ten o'clock before any of
them felt like turning in. As the night wore on the place seemed to
become more lonely.

"Might as well go to bed," said Dave, at last. "We need a good rest."

"Anybody going to stay on guard?" asked the senator's son.

"Do you think it necessary, Roger?"

"I don't know."

"What do you say, Phil?"

"I am too sleepy now to remain on guard," answered Phil. "You can do so
if you wish."

"Oh, what cheek!" murmured Roger. "All right, we'll all turn in and
chance it."

"Let's fix the fire first," said Dave. "A blaze usually helps to keep
away wild beasts."

"Oh, if any come, I reckon the horses will give us warning," said Phil.
"We can tie them close by." And this plan was carried out.

Some cedar boughs had been strewn on the floor of the tent, and on these
the chums laid down, and did their best to go to sleep. Dave dropped off
first, and was presently followed by Roger. But Phil was restless and
turned from one side to the other.

"Oh, pshaw! why can't I sleep?" murmured the shipowner's son to himself
in disgust, and then out of curiosity he looked at his watch. By the
glare from the campfire he saw that it was nearly one o'clock.

He was just straightening out again when a peculiar rustling among the
horses caught his ears. He listened for a moment, then sat up straight.

"Something doesn't suit them," he reasoned. "Wonder what it can be?"

He hesitated, then turned over on his hands and knees and crawled to the
opening of the tent and peered around outside. The campfire had burned
rather low, so that objects a short distance away were indistinct. He
saw that the horses were huddled together and had their heads turned
toward a clump of bushes at one side of the shelter.

"Something must be over yonder," reasoned the youth. "Wonder if I had
better arouse the others?"

He looked at Dave and Roger. Both were sleeping so peacefully Phil hated
to disturb them. He reached for his gun and looked out again.

There was a brushing aside of the clump of bushes and a pair of eyes
glared forth, glistening brightly in the firelight. The eyes were those
of some wild beast, but what, Phil could not tell.

The animal was not looking at Phil, but at the carcass of the deer,
which had been hung up in a low tree not far from the clump of bushes.
Stealthily the animal came into the opening, and with the ease of a cat,
leaped into the tree.

"It's a wildcat--or something like it," thought Phil, and raised his gun
to fire. Then of a sudden he commenced to shake from head to foot, so
that to aim was entirely out of the question. He had what is commonly
called among hunters "buck fever," a sudden fear that often overtakes
amateur hunters when trying to shoot at big game.