THE RUNAWAY STEER

On the following morning there was the promise of a storm in the air,
and the boys felt a bit blue over the prospects. But, by nine o'clock,
the sun came out as brightly as ever and they were correspondingly
elated.

"I don't care to do any camping out in wet weather," said Fred. "I
got enough of that at the Hall."

"Well, when you camp out, you must take what comes, as the shark said
when he swallowed a naval officer and found a sword sticking in his
throat," answered Tom. "We can't have the weather built to order for
anybody."

Wags was up and moving around, with his tail wagging as furiously as
ever. He seemed to feel perfectly at home.

"Acts as if he had known us all our lives," said Dick. "He is certainly
a fine creature, or he will be after he is fed up a bit."

"If he belongs around here, I don't see how he should be starved,"
said Sam.

"Well, you must remember, there are some pretty poor folks living in
these parts, Sam. The colored folks are passionately fond of dogs,
and very often they don't have enough to support themselves."

"I am going to claim Wags as my own until his rightful owner comes
along," announced Tom. "Maybe I'll even take him home with me. Our
old dog is dead."

This was final, and nobody saw fit to dispute the decision. So Wags
was given his breakfast, after which the party struck camp, and the
journey for the Denton plantation was continued.

The timber passed, they came out on a long stretch of prairie land
leading to the high hills beyond.

"Here we are on the plains!" cried Sam. "Who wants to race?" And off
he rode at top speed, with some of the others following. Even Wags
seemed to enjoy the brush, and barked continually as he ran ahead
and leaped up before one horse and then another.

Sam's wild ride on the plains lasted rather longer than the others
had anticipated, and when it came to an end, all found themselves
away from the beaten trail which they had been pursuing. They came
to a sudden stop and gazed around in perplexity.

"Here's a mess," said Dick.

"Where's the trail?"

"That is what I want to know."

"I think it is over yonder."

"I think it is in the opposite direction."

All of the boys began to talk at once, and then followed a dead
silence for several seconds.

"One thing is certain--the trail can't be in two directions," said Tom.

"He can pe if he vos krooked," said Hans wisely.

"It was a fairly straight trail," observed Fred. "I can't see how we
happened to leave it."

"I was following Sam," said Songbird. "You can't blame me."

"So was I following Sam," added several of the others.

"And I was having a good time on the horse," said the youngest Rover.
"I thought in the bunch there would be at least one who would look
after the trail."

"So it is really nobody's fault," said Dick quickly, to avoid a
possible quarrel. "The question is: how are we going to find the
trail again?"

"I know how," put in Hans calmly.

"How?"

"Look for him."

"Thanks, awfully," said Tom. "That is a bright as a burnt-out match."

"Just the same, that is what we will have to do, Tom," said Dick.
"Let us divide up, and some go to the right and some to the left."

This was considered a good plan and was carried out without delay.
Ten minutes later, Songbird set up a shout:

  "Upon this ground,
  The trail is found.
  All come right here
  And see it clear."

"Good for Songbird!" cried Tom. "He gets a last year's tomato as a
reward. Songbird, will you have it in tissue paper or a trunk?"

"Well, the trail is plain enough," was Dick's comment, as he came
riding up. "I can't see how we missed such a well-defined path."

The run had tired their horses somewhat, and all were willing to
proceed further on a walk. They were coming to a fringe of bushes on
the plain, and here found a stream of water.

"Not a ranch or a plantation of any kind in sight," announced Fred
as he gazed around while some of the steeds obtained a drink. "What
a wilderness certain portions of our country are!"

"Plenty of chances for emigrants," returned Songbird. "We are a long
way from being filled up."

"The trouble is, so I have heard father say, so many of the emigrants
stay in the big cities, rather than come out to the country," put in Sam.

Having rested for a spell at the brook, they proceeded on their way
once more. The air was growing warmer and, as the sun mounted higher
in the sky, they wished they were in the shadow of a forest once more.

"What a journey it must be to cover some of the immense Western plains
on horseback," remarked Songbird. "To ride for miles and miles--maybe
all day--without seeing a cabin or a human being."

"We know something of that," answered Dick. "We liked our trip out
West, though," he added.

Toward the middle of the afternoon they reached the first stunted
growth of timber growing at the base of the hills toward which they
had been journeying. At noon, as it was so hot, they had not stopped
for lunch, and now they proceeded to make themselves comfortable on
a patch of thick grass. Even Wags was willing to lie down and stretch
out. The dog acted as if he had been a member of the party since
starting from home.

"Are you going to blame me for going wrong?" demanded the poetic youth.

"I wonder if he would be any good after game?" said Sam as he looked
at Wags.

"I doubt it," said Tom. "An educated dog--that is, a trick dog--rarely
knows anything else. But, nevertheless, I think Wags remarkably bright."

It was not until four o'clock that they went on once more. According
to what they had been told, they ought now to be coming in sight of
a cattle ranch kept by some old cattle men, but nothing like a ranch
appeared.

"This is queer, to say the least," remarked Tom as they came to a
halt in a small clearing. "What do you make of it, Dick?"

"I shouldn't like to say, just yet."

"Do you think we are on the wrong trail?" queried Fred quickly.

"We may be."

"Of dot is so, den, py Jiminatics, ve vos lost!" ejaculated Hans.
"Now, vosn't dot lofly alretty?"

"Lost?" cried Fred.

"That's the size of it," cried Songbird. "We must have taken to the
wrong trail after our little race."

"You found the trail for us," remarked Tom dryly.

"Not a bit of it," said Dick. "All of us were to blame, for we all
thought it was the right trail. The one question is: where are we,
and where is the right trail?"

"And a big question to answer, Dick," came from Sam. "For all we
know, we may be miles and miles off the road."

"No use of crying over spilt oil, as the lamp said to the wick," sang
out Tom. "I move we go on until we strike a ranch, or plantation, or
something."

"That is what we'll have to do, unless we want to go back."

"No going back in this!" shouted several, and then they moved forward
as before, but at a slower rate of speed.

It was truly warm work, and it must be confessed that all were more
or less worried. In the last town at which they had stopped, they
had met a number of undesirable characters, and one man had told Dick
that not a few outlaws were roaming around, ready to pick up stray
horses, or money, or whatever they could get their hands upon.

They were passing through a bit of sparse timber, when they heard a
strange tramping at a distance.

"What do you think that can be?" questioned Fred, coming to a halt,
followed by the others.

"Horses," suggested Hans.

"Sounds to me like cattle," said Dick. "But I don't see so much as
a cow, do you?"

"Nothing whatever in sight," said Tom.

As the noise continued, Sam's horse began to grow skittish and showed
some inclination to bolt.

"Steady, there!" sang out the youngest Rover. "None of that, now!"
and he did his best to hold the steed in check.

"Something is coming!" cried Tom a few seconds later. "Something
running pretty well, too!"

By instinct, all turned to the side of the trail, Sam taking a position
between a clump of trees and a big rock. Swiftly the sound came
closer, and then of a sudden a big and wild-looking steer broke into
view, lumbering along the trail at his best speed.

"A steer!"

"Look out, fellows, he is wild and ugly!"

"He looks as if he meant to horn somebody!"

So the cries rang out, and all of the boys drew further to the side
of the trail. As the steer came up, he paused and gazed at them in
commingled wonder and anger.

"He is going to charge--" began Tom, when, with a fierce snort, the
steer wheeled to one side and charged upon Sam and his horse at full
speed!



CHAPTER XIII

JIM JONES, THE COWBOY

To some of the boys it looked as if Sam and his steed must surely be
seriously injured, if not killed. The steer was large and powerful
looking, and his horns were sharp enough to inflict serious damage.

"Back up, Sam!" screamed Tom.

Poor Sam could not back very well, and now his horse was thoroughly
unmanageable. Closer came the steer, until his wicked looking horns
were but a foot away.

At that critical moment a shot rang out, so close at hand that it
made all of the boys jump. Realizing the dire peril, Dick had drawn
the pistol he carried and fired at the steer. His aim was fair, and
the beast was struck in the ribs.

"Good for you, Dick!" burst out poor Sam. "Give him another," he
added, as he tried to quiet his horse and keep the steed from pitching
him to the ground.

Dick was quite willing to take another shot, but to get into range
was not so easy. Songbird's horse was between himself and the steer,
and the latter was plunging around in a manner that was dangerous
for the entire party.

But at last the eldest Rover saw his opportunity, and once more the
pistol rang out on the summer air. The shot took the steer in the
left ear and he gave a loud snort of pain and staggered as if about
to fall.

"He is about done for!" cried Tom. "I am glad of it."

The steer continued to plunge around for fully two minutes and all
took good care to keep out of his reach. Then he took a final plunge
and fell over on his side, breathing heavily and rolling his eyes
the while.

"I reckon I had better give him a final shot," was Dick's comment,
and, dismounting, he came forward and fired directly into the beast's
eye. It was a finishing move, and, with a convulsive shudder, the
steer lay still, and the unexpected encounter came to an end.

"Well, I am glad that is over," said Sam as he wiped the cold
perspiration from his forehead. "I thought he was going to horn me,
sure!"

"He would have done so, had it not been for Dick," returned Tom.

"I know it. Dick, I shan't forget this."

"What's to be done about the steer?" asked Songbird. "It seems a pity
to leave him here."

"Vot is der madder mit cutting him ub for meats?" put in Hans. "Ve
can haf some nice steak ven ve go into camp next dime, hey?"

"That's a scheme," said Fred.

At that moment, Wags, who had kept in the background so long as the
steer was raging around, set up a sharp barking.

"What's wrong now?" asked Tom, turning to the dog.

"Somebody may be coming," suggested Dick.

"I'll show you fellers wot's wrong!" cried a rough voice, and through
the brushwood close by there crashed a broncho, on top of which rode
a rough-looking cowboy, wearing a red shirt and a big slouch hat.
"Who went and shot that steer?"

"I did," answered Dick. "Was he yours?"

"He was, and you had no right to touch him," growled the cowboy.

"Didn't I, though?" said Dick. "Are you aware that he came close to
hurting us? He charged full tilt at my brother's horse."

"Stuff and fairy tales, boy. That steer was all right. He broke away
from the drove, but he wouldn't hurt a flea."

"We know better," put in Tom.

"If my brother hadn't killed him, he would probably have killed my
horse, and maybe me," added Sam.

"Somebody has got to pay for the damage done," growled the cowboy.
"I am not going to stand for it, not me, so sure as my name is Jim
Jones." And he shook his head determinedly.

"Well, Mr. Jones, I am sorry I had to kill your steer, but it had to
be done, and that is all there is to it," said Dick calmly.

"That ain't payin' for the critter, is it?"

"No."

"An' do you reckon I'm goin' to let the boss take the price out o'
my wages?" continued Jim Jones warmly.

"Isn't the steer worth something as meat?"

"Yes, but not near as much as he was wuth on the hoof."

"We might take up a collection for Mr. Jones, if he is a poor man,"
suggested Songbird, who did not want any trouble.

"But we haven't got to do it," broke in Tom. "It was his business
not to let the steer run wild in the first place."

"So you're going to take a hand, eh?" stormed the cowboy; then,
feeling he was in the minority, he went on more humbly: "Yes, I'm a
poor man, and this may get me discharged."

"How much do you think we ought to pay?" asked Dick. "Name a reasonable
price and I may settle, just to avoid trouble, and not because I
think I ought to pay."

"How about fifty dollars?" asked the cowboy with a shrewd look in
his fishy, blue eyes.

"Cut it in half, and I may meet you," came from Dick. "He was no
blue-ribbon animal."

The cowboy tried to argue, but the Rovers and their chums would not
listen, and in the end Jim Jones said he would accept twenty-five
dollars and let it go at that. He said he would have the steer carted
away before night.

"Where do you come from?" asked Dick after paying over the money.

"From the Cassibel ranch, sixty miles north-west from here. I and my
pard were driving some cattle to town, when this steer got scared at
a rattlesnake and broke away."

"I don't blame him," said Fred. "I'd get scared at a rattlesnake,
myself."

"Do you know the way to Mr. Carson Denton's plantation?" went on Dick.

"Sure."

"This is not the right trail, is it?"

"Not by a long shot. The right trail is four miles from here."

"Will you direct us to the right road?" asked Dick.

"Sure thing," answered Jim Jones. He paused for a moment. "Want to
get there the easiest way possible, I reckon?"

"Of course."

"Well, then, keep to this trail for half a mile further. Then, when
you come to the blasted hemlock, take the trail to the left. That
will take you through the upper end of the next town and right on to
Denton's."

"Thanks," said Dick. "Is it a good road?"

"Fine, after the fust few miles are passed. There are a few bad spots
at first, but you mustn't mind them."

"We shan't mind," came from Sam. "We have struck some bad spots already."

A few additional words passed, and then all of the boys rode along
the trail as the cowboy had pointed out. Jim Jones, standing beside
the dead steer, watched them out of sight and chuckled loudly to himself.

"Reckon I squared accounts with 'em," he muttered. "Got twenty-five
dollars in cash and the animile, and if they foller thet trail as I
told 'em--well, there ain't no tellin' where they'll fotch up. But
it won't be Denton's ranch, not by a long shot!" and he laughed
heartily to himself.

All unconscious that they had been wrongly directed by Jim Jones,
the Rover boys and their chums continued their journey. When they
reached the hemlock that had been struck by lightning, they took to
the other path as directed.

"I am sorry I didn't ask how far that town was," said Dick. "For all
we know, we may be miles away from it."

"If it gets too late, we had better go into camp for the night,"
suggested Songbird, and so it was agreed.

The coming of night found them in something of a hollow between two
ranges of hills. The trail was soft and spongy, and the horses
frequently sank in over their hoofs.

"This is something I didn't bargain for," observed Songbird. "I trust
we don't get stuck and have to go back."

"That cowboy said the trail would be poor for a while," came from Fred.

They continued to go forward, on the lookout for some suitable spot
where they might camp for the night. The thought of reaching a town
had faded away an hour before.

"Gosh! this is getting worse!" cried Tom. "Be careful, Hans!" he
called to the German youth, who was ahead.

"Vot's dot?" sang out the other.

"I said, be careful. You don't want to sink through to China, do you?"

"Not much I ton't," was the answer. "Oh!"

Hans let out a loud cry of alarm, and with good reason. His horse
had struck a sink-hole, as they are called on the plains, and gone
down to his knees. He made such a plunge that poor Hans was thrown
over his head, to land full length in an oozy, sticky bog.

"Stop!" cried Dick, as soon as he saw this accident. "Don't go any
further, fellows, it's dangerous!"

"Hellup! safe me!" roared Hans, trying in vain to extricate himself
from the oozy bog, while his horse did the same. "Hellup, oder I peen
drowned in der mud alretty!"



CHAPTER XIV

OUT OF AN UNPLEASANT SITUATION

Not one of the party was just then in a position to give poor Hans
any assistance. All were stuck in the ooze, and one horse after
another was slowly but surely sinking.

"We must turn back," cried Songbird, "and do it in a hurry, too."

"Easier said than done," grunted Fred. "My, this is worse than glue!"

"I think the ground on our left is a bit firmer than here," said Sam.
"I am going to try it, anyway."

Not without considerable difficulty, he turned his steed, and after
a struggle the spot he had indicated was gained. Dick followed, and
so did Tom.

The Rovers were safe, but not so their chums. Hans was the worst off,
but Fred and Songbird were likewise in positions of serious peril.
Wags was flying around, barking dismally, as though he understood
that all was not right.

"Turn this way!" called out Sam. "It's your one hope!"

"Let me have that rope you are carrying, Tom," said Dick, and having
received the article, he threw one end to Hans, who was still
floundering around. "Catch hold, Hans, and I'll haul you over!"

As the rope fell across the German youth's body, he caught it tightly
in both hands, and, as Dick, Tom and Sam pulled with might and main,
he fairly slid on his breast to where they were standing.

"Mine gracious, dot vos somedings awful!" he exclaimed. "It vos so
sticky like molasses alretty!"

"Now, we must help the others," said Dick.

"Songbird is out," exclaimed Sam.

The rope was thrown to Fred, and with a great tug he was finally
brought out of the ooze.

"Nearly took my hand off," he declared. "But I don't care--anything
is better than to be stuck in such a spot as that."

The horses were still floundering desperately, and it was little that
they could do for the beasts. One went in one direction and the others
in another, but at last all appeared to be safe, although covered
with the sticky mud and slime.

"That's an adventure I didn't bargain for," was Tom's comment. "Do
you know what I think? I think that cowboy sent us into this on purpose."

"Maybe he did," came from Dick. "Did it, I suppose, to get square
because we didn't pay him all he thought the steer was worth."

To round up the horses was no easy task, and by the time this was
accomplished it was long past dark. They searched around for a suitable
spot and then went into camp.

"This trip is lasting longer than I expected," remarked Dick when
they were around the camp-fire preparing an evening meal. "I trust
the others don't get worried about us."

"Oh, I guess they know that we can take care of ourselves," answered Tom.

"I wish I had that cowboy here," muttered Sam. "I'd give him a piece
of my mind."

"I think we'd all do that," added Fred.

"I vos gif him a biece of mine mind from der end of mine fist," said
Hans, and this made them all laugh.

The camping spot was not a particularly good one, yet all slept
soundly. They left Wags on guard, but nothing came to disturb them.

It was misty in the morning and so raw that they shivered as they
prepared to start off. How to proceed was a question, and it took
them a good quarter of an hour to decide it.

"It would be folly to go deeper into this bog, or swamp," said Dick.
"I vote we keep to the high ground."

"That's the talk," said Sam. "Maybe, when we get up far enough, we
will have a chance to look around us."

As well as they were able, they had cleaned off the horses and
themselves, and now they took good care to keep from all ground that
looked in the least bit treacherous.

"Here is a new trail," cried Tom after about two miles had been
covered. "And it seems to lead up a hill, too."

"Then that is the trail for us," put in Songbird, and they took to
the new trail without further words.

"Songbird, I don't hear any poetry," observed Dick as they rode along.
"What's the matter?"

"Can't make up poetry in such a dismal place as this," was the answer
in a disgusted voice. "I wish we were out of this woods, and out of
the mist, too. I declare, it's enough to give a fellow malaria."

The sun was trying to break through the mist, which was an encouraging
sign. Here and there a bird set up a piping note, but otherwise all
was as quiet as a tomb.

"I see something of a clearing ahead," announced Sam presently.

"And a trail!" cried Fred. "Thank fortune for that!"

The clearing reached, they found a well-defined trail running to the
southwestward.

"That must run to Caville," announced Dick. "See, there is a regular
wagon track."

"I hope it is the right road," returned Fred.

They were soon out on the plains again, and then into another patch
of timber. They had to ford a small stream, and on the other side
came to a fork in the trail.

"Which way now?" questioned Sam, as all came to a halt in perplexity.

"This seems to be the main road, although it is hard to tell one from
the other," said Dick after an examination.

The others agreed with the eldest Rover, and once more they went
forward. But, in less than a mile, they saw that the road was not in
as good a condition as that left behind.

"This looks as if we had made a mistake," observed Fred. "Oh, what
luck we are having!"

"I'd like to know--" began Tom, when he stopped abruptly, for out of
the brushwood an old man had stepped, gun in hand.

"You-uns, hold on!" cried the old man.

"Hullo, what do you want?" asked Dick.

"I want for you-uns to turn around an' go tudder way."

"Isn't this the trail to Caville?"

"No, it ain't, an' you-uns can't come this way, nohow."

"Is it a private road?"

"Yes."

"Where does it lead to?"

"That ain't none o' you-uns' business," said the old man curtly.
"You-uns is on the wrong road, an' have got to turn back."

"Supposing we don't turn back?" questioned Tom, who did not fancy
the style in which they were being addressed.

At this, the old man tapped his gun.

"Orders is to turn 'em back, or shoot," he answered simply. "This
are a private road. Don't ye see the wire fence?"

They looked into the brushwood and saw a single strand of wire
stretched from tree to tree on each side of the trail.

"Not much of a fence," was Songbird's comment.

"It's enough, an' you-uns can't come no further."

"Maybe you live beyond," said Sam curiously.

"Maybe I do, an' maybe I don't. It ain't none of you-uns' business."

"You are very civil, I must say."

"Don't you git fly, boy, or this ole gun o' mine might go off. This
ain't no trail fer you-uns, an' you-uns have got to turn back."

"Will you tell us if that other trail runs to Caville?" asked Dick.

"It don't run nowheres." The old man grinned for a moment. "It stays
where it are. But if you-uns travel along it for about five miles,
ye'll reach the town."

"And you won't tell us whose road this is?" came from Tom.

"It ain't none of you-uns' business, thet ain't. Better turn back
an' have done with it."

The old man showed plainly that he did not wish to converse further.
He stood in the center of the trail, with his gun ready for instant use.

"We made a mistake before and got into a sink-hole," said Dick. "We
don't want to make another mistake."

"Take tudder trail an' you-uns will be all right," answered the old
man, and thereupon they turned around and rode off.

"What a crusty old fellow!" said Sam.

"Yes, but he meant business," came from Fred. "He would have shot at
us sure, had we insisted upon moving forward."

"There is some mystery about this," said Dick.

"Perhaps he lives a hermit life down that trail," suggested Songbird.

"It looked more to me as if he was on guard," put in Sam. "He certainly
meant business."

"If we had time, I'd sneak around to one side and see what was beyond."

"Yes, and get shot," said Fred. "We had better take his advice and
go on to Caville."

It did not take them long to reach the fork in the road, and here
they turned into the other trail. They had proceeded less than fifty
yards, when Dick put up his hand.

"Somebody is coming behind us," he announced.

They halted at a turn in the road and looked back. Two persons soon
appeared, both on horse-back. They were riding at a good gait and
turned into the trail which was guarded by the old man.

"Well, I never!" cried Tom in amazement.

"I recognized the first man," said Sam. "It was that bushy-haired
fellow. I think somebody said his name was Sack Todd."

"That's the chap," replied Dick. "But didn't you recognize the other?"

"No."

"It was Dan Baxter."



CHAPTER XV

SOMETHING OF A MYSTERY

"Dan Baxter!"

The cry came simultaneously from several of the crowd.

"I think Dick is right," said Songbird. "I thought it must be Dan,
but I wasn't sure, for I didn't expect to see him here."

"He and that Sack Todd must have become friends," put in Tom. "I
would like to know what Dan is doing out here."

"He is certainly up to no good," answered Dick. "I must say this adds
to the mystery, doesn't it, boys?"

"That's what it does," chimed in Sam. "I wish we could catch Baxter
and bring him to justice."

"Or reform him," came from Dick.

"Reform him, Dick!" cried Tom. "That would be mighty uphill work."

"It isn't in him," added Fred. "He is tee-totally bad."

"I used to think that of Dan's father, but Arnold Baxter has
reformed--and he wants his son to do likewise."

"Well, that isn't here or there," said Tom after a pause. "What are
we to do just now?"

"Let us push on to town first," answered Songbird. "After that, we
can rearrange our plans if we wish."

This was considered good advice, and once again they urged their
steeds along. Coming to a high point in the trail, they made out
Caville a mile distant, and rode into the town about noon.

It was not much of a place, and the single hotel afforded only the
slimmest of accommodations. But they had to be satisfied, and so made
the best of it.

The meal over, Dick strolled into the office of the tavern, where he
found the proprietor sitting in a big wooden chair leaning against
the counter.

"Quite a town," began the eldest Rover cheerfully.

"Wall, it ain't so bad but what it might be wuss, stranger. Did the
grub suit ye?"

"It did."

"Glad to hear it, stranger. Sometimes the folks from the big cities
find fault. Expect me to run a reg'lar Aster-Delmonicum, or sumthin'
like that."

"It is very hard to suit everybody," said Dick. "By the way," he went
on, "do you know a man around these parts named Sack Todd?"

"Do I know him? To be sure I do, stranger. Friend o' yourn?"

"Not exactly, but I have met him a few times. Where does he live?"

"Lives over to Red Rock ranch, quite a few miles from here."

"Alone?"

"Not exactly. He has a cousin there, I believe, and some others. But
I wouldn't advise you to go over to the ranch, nohow."

"Why?"

"Sack Todd don't take to visitors. The story goes that a visitor once
stopped there an' shot his wife and robbed her, an' since that time
he ain't had no use fer anybody, only them as he knows very well."

"Does he run the ranch for a living?"

"Don't know but what he does, but he don't work very hard a-doin' it."

"Is there an old man working for him--a fellow with thin shoulders
and reddish hair?"

"Yes; an' he's a sour pill, too."

"He must be an odd stick, to keep himself so close."

"Yes; but Sack's a good spender, when he's in the humor of it.
Sometimes he comes to town with a wad o' money an' treats everybody
right an' left. Then ag'in he comes in an' won't notice nobody."

Here the talk came to an end, for the hotel man had to attend to some
new arrivals. Dick joined the others and all took a walk, so that
their conversation might not be overheard.

"This only adds to the mystery," said Tom after Dick had repeated
what the tavern keeper had said. "I am more anxious now than ever to
visit Red Rock ranch, as they call it."

"So am I," added Sam. "And remember, we want to catch Dan Baxter if
we can."

"Well, we can't go ahead and back too, boys," came from Dick. "If we
really mean to investigate, we ought to send Mr. Denton and the ladies
and the girls word. If we don't, and we are delayed any great length
of time, they will be sure to worry about us."

"Maybe we can telephone," suggested Songbird. "Don't you see the
wires? Some of the plantations must have the service."

"That's the talk!" cried Fred. "Let us try it, anyway."

They walked to the nearest station and looked over the book. But the
Denton plantation was not mentioned.

"We can send a letter," said Dick. "That will get there before they
have a chance to worry."

They returned to the tavern, and there the communication was written,
and later on dropped in the post-office. Then they held another
consultation.

"Those fellows around that ranch are all armed beyond a doubt," said
Tom. "I think we ought to get something in the shape of firearms."

"We've got a gun and a pistol now," answered Dick.

"Say, I ton't vos go pack of der been schootin' goin' on!" cried
Hans. "I tole you dot Sack Todd been a pad man."

"You can remain behind, Hans," returned Sam.

"He can go on to Mr. Denton's," said Songbird.

"Not much--I stick py der crowd," said the German youth. He thought
it worse to leave them than to confront any possible perils.

Their horses had been fed and cared for, and by the middle of the
afternoon each was provided with a pistol, the extra weapons being
secured at the local hardware establishment.

"Afraid of outlaws?" questioned the man who sold the pistols.

"There is nothing like being armed," answered Dick. "On some of these
trails, there is no telling what sort of persons you will meet."

"I've got an idea," said Tom when they were on the street again. "Why
not take our time and move on Red Rock ranch after dark?"

"And lose our way," came from Sam.

"Well, we can't use that trail in the daylight. That old man will be
sure to halt us."

"We can get around the old man somehow," said Songbird. "As soon as
we spot him, we can make a detour."

By four o'clock, they were on the way. Not to excite suspicions on
the part of any of Sack Todd's friends who might happen to be around,
they left Caville by a side trail and then took to the back road
after the last of the houses of the town had been passed.

"I'd just like a long ride over the prairie," cried Sam. "I know I'd
enjoy every minute of it."

They had proceeded less than a mile when Hans went to the front.

"I dink dis horse vants to let himself out a leetle," said he.

"I'll race you," said Sam, and away they started at a breakneck speed.

"Hold on!" cried Dick. "Don't tire yourselves out in that fashion.
We've got a good many miles to go yet."

But neither of the racers paid any attention, and soon they were a
good distance to the front. Hans was doing his best to keep ahead of
the youngest Rover, and, as his steed was a little the better of the
two, he had small difficulty in accomplishing his object.

But, alas, for the poor German boy! The race made him careless of
where he was going, and soon he found himself on the very edge of a
swamp, similar to that encountered before.

"Whoa!" he yelled to his horse. "Whoa!" And then he added: "Sam, go
pack kvick!"

"What's wrong, Hans?"

"It ist all vet aroundt here, und I--Du meine Zeit!"

As the German youth finished, his horse stepped into a fair-sized
hole on the edge of the swamp. On the instant, a cloud arose from
the hole.

"Hornets!" screamed Sam, and backed away with all speed.

"Hellup! hellup!" yelled Hans. "Ouch! Oh, my!" And then he tried to
back away. But the hornets were angry at being disturbed in their
nest and went at him and his horse with vigor.

"Something is wrong with Hans," observed Dick, looking ahead. "See,
his nag is dancing around as if it was crazy."

"Oh, me; oh, my!" roared Hans, slapping to the right and to the left.
"I vos stung in more as a hundred blaces. Hellup me, somepotty! Dis
vos der vorse yet alretty! Git avay, you hornets! I gif you fife
dollars to git avay!"

"Ride off, Hans," called out Fred. "Don't stay near the hornets'
nest. It will only make it so much the worse for you."

Thus advised, Hans backed and started off. But, instead of going off
by himself, he rode directly into the crowd.

"Hi, you, keep away!" sang out Tom, and then, as a hornet alighted
on his nose, he went on: "Whow! Haven't you any sense?"

"Anypotty vot vonts dem hornets can haf dem, free of charge, mit
drading stamps drown in," answered Hans. "Git avay!" and he rode on.

"The cheek of him!" put in Fred, who was also bitten. "We ought to
drive him back into the hole."

"Not on mine life!" said Hans. "I vos so stung now I can't see mine
eyes out of, ain't it!"

All lost no time in getting away from the vicinity of the hornets'
nest, and presently the pests left them and went back to the hole,
to see what damage had been done.

"This is an experience I didn't bargain for," said Songbird, who had
been stung in the cheek.

"Maybe you'd like to make up some poetry about it," grumbled Tom.
"Oh, how my chin hurts!"

"And my ear!"

"And my nose!"

"Humph! Look at my eye!"

So the talk ran on, and the crowd looked at each other in their
misery. But the sights were too comical and, despite the pain, each
had to laugh at the others.

"Didn't know you had so much cheek, Songbird."

"My, what an awful smeller Fred's got!"

"Dick's left hand is a regular boxing glove."

"I'm going to put some soft mud on the hand," returned Dick. "There
is nothing better to draw out the pain of a hornet's sting."

"Den gif me some of dot mut, too," said Hans. "I ton't vos care how
he looks, so long as it makes me feel easier."

Mud was easy to procure, and all used it liberally, and before long
the pain and swelling began to go down. But their sufferings did not
cease entirely until many hours afterwards, while poor Hans could
not use one eye for two days.

"After this, we had better keep our eyes open for hornets' nests,"
observed Dick.

"I certainly don't want to be stung again," said Sam.

"I believe a fellow could be stung to death by such pests," ventured
Fred.

"Yes, and a horrible death it would be," answered Dick.

The encounter with the hornets had delayed them greatly, and it was
getting toward nightfall before they went on their way again.

"We may as well take our time," said Tom. "We can't reach Red Rock
ranch until to-morrow."

After crossing a level stretch of prairie, they came to the edge of
a woods. Not far off was a shack similar to those to be seen all over
this section of our country.

"Hullo, here is a house," cried Dick. "I wonder if anybody lives here?"

He dismounted and, walking forward, looked into the shack. On a bed
of boughs a heavy-set man was sleeping.

"Hullo, there!" called out the eldest of the Rovers.

The man sat up in alarm and made a movement as if to draw a pistol.

"What do you want of me?" he asked roughly.



CHAPTER XVI

A SCENE FROM A TREETOP

"I don't know as we want anything of you," said Dick. "We chanced to
be riding by, that is all."

"Oh!" The man looked relieved and let his hand drop from his pistol
pocket. "Are you alone?"

"No, there is quite a crowd of us."

At this, the man leaped up and looked out of the open doorway of the
shack. His face fell again when he saw so many, and all well mounted.

"May I ask what you are doing here?" he questioned, turning his sharp
eyes on Dick once more.

"We are doing a bit of traveling overland. We were on a houseboat,
but we got tired of riding on the Mississippi."

"I see. One of them 'personally conducted tours' a feller reads about
in them magazines, eh?"

"That is pretty close to it," and Dick smiled, more to throw the man
off his guard than any-thing else. He did not like the looks of the
stranger in the least.

"Don't go an' git lost, young man. Have ye a guide?"

"No, but I don't think we are going to get lost. What place do you
call this?" the eldest Rover continued, thinking to ask some questions
himself, and thus keep the fellow from becoming too inquisitive.

"This is Pluggins' Palace;" the man gave a short laugh. "Did ye ever
hear of Pluggins?"

"No."

"Pluggins was a pretty fair sort, but had a habit of stickin' his
nose into other folks' business. One day, so the story goes, he went
too far, and nobody has seen him since."

"Was he killed?"

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't ask me, stranger. He disappeared, and that was the end of him.
He used to live here, and the boys writ that motto to his memory."
And the man pointed to a wall, upon which hung a board, on which had
been painted the following:

  ThiS iS iN MEMorY Of
  SiLAs plUGGinS
  he waS A GooD MaN
  bUT hE coULD NOT kEEp HiS NOsE
  FRoM oTHeRS bISSnESS.
  tAkE wARNiNG.!

Dick read the lines with deep interest, and so did all of the others.

"They didn't know much about sign painting, but they evidently knew
what they wanted to say," remarked Tom. "Do you live here now?" he
added, to the strange man.

"No; I was only taking a nap, that's all."

"Are you on foot?" asked Fred.

"No, my hoss is close by." The man gave a loud whistle, and soon a
slick-looking mare came into view from behind the shack. "Reckon I
must be goin'." He pointed to the board on the wall. "Kind of a sign
to set a feller to thinkin', eh?"

"Just a bit," returned Dick dryly.

"It don't do to stick your nose into what don't concern you. Good-by."

The man left the shack, leaped into the saddle on the mare, spoke to
the steed and, in a second, was off like the wind around a turn in
the woods.

"Gracious, but he can ride!" was Tom's comment. "That mare is a peach!"

"Another mystery," came from Dick. He gazed at the board on the wall.
"Do you know what I think?"

"What?" asked Songbird.

"That is an out-and-out warning--"

"Sure."

"A warning meant for just such persons as ourselves."

"You mean it is a warning to keep away from Red Rock ranch?" asked Sam.

"I do. And I think that fellow was on guard, just as the old man was
on that other road."

"If he was, why didn't he stop us, then?"

"Because we took him unawares, and because he saw that we were too
many for him."

"By Jinks, Dick, I think you are right!" cried Tom. "And, if you are,
it is more than likely that he has gone to the ranch to warn Sack Todd."

"Exactly, and that means warning Dan Baxter, too. I tell you, boys,
there is something behind all this, and I, for one, am in favor of
doing our best to solve the mystery."

"I am with you."

"So am I."

"And I, Dick! You can count on me!"

"Vell, ton't I vos here, too?" came from Hans.

"But we must go slow," said Tom. "It would be nonsense to rush forward.
We'd be certain to walk into some trap."

The matter was talked over, and it was decided to leave the vicinity
of the shack before making an extended halt. They did not know but
what the strange man would come back accompanied by Sack Todd, Dan
Baxtex and others equally willing to do them harm.

They plunged into the woods in the direction the man had taken, but,
coming to a brook, rode their steeds down the watercourse for half
a mile, thus completely destroying their trail. Then they came out
and urged their now tired horses up a small hill, from which to get
some idea of their surroundings.

"It's too dark to see a thing," announced Tom, after he and Sam had
mounted to the top of a tall tree. "But I think we could get a fine
view from here in the daytime."

Again they held a discussion, and it was decided to go into camp
where they were. They had brought some cooked food with them, so did
not have to start a fire, and, being tired, all fell asleep in short
order, leaving Wags on guard, as they had done before.

When they awoke, the sun was shining brightly. Wags was missing,
having gone to hunt up something to eat in the brush. All swallowed
a hasty repast, washing it down with a drink from the brook. Then
Tom climbed the tree again, followed this time by his big brother.

"I see a ranch--out that way!" cried the fun-loving Rover after a
look around. "Dick, can't you see it?"

"Yes, Tom, and it must be the one we are seeking, for, see, there is
a series of rocks behind it, and they are red."

Dick was right--the rocks were certainly there, and there could not
be the slightest doubt regarding their color.

The ranch was a long, low-lying place and so far off they could see
it but imperfectly.

"We may as well draw closer," said Dick, and began to climb to the
ground, followed by his brother.

There was no path through the woods, and the tree branches were so
low-hanging that they were willing enough to walk their horses. Soon
the tangle grew so thick they were forced to dismount and proceed on
foot.

"I trust we don't get into a pocket," said Sam. "It would be a job
to get back the way we came."

"I see a clearing ahead," announced Songbird a little later, and
presently they reached an opening, in the midst of which grew a tall
pine tree.

"I'm going to shin that tree," announced Sam, and went up, and so
did all of the others, reaching the topmost branches only after a
difficult climb lasting ten minutes.

They were well rewarded for their efforts, for from the top of the
tree they could see a long distance in all directions. But they had
eyes only for the ranch, which now stood out strongly in the bright
sunlight.

"I see two men walking about the place," said Sam. "But I can't make
out their faces."

"There is a big wagon approaching from a road yonder," announced
Dick. "It seems to be filled with hay."

They watched the approach of the wagon, which lumbered along slowly,
although drawn by a pair of powerful looking horses. At last, the
wagon reached a side entrance to the ranch and came to a halt, and
the driver dismounted.

Five minutes passed, and then four or five men came up to the wagon.
The hay, which was on top, was cast aside, revealing some machinery
resting on the bottom of the wagon.

"Some farming machinery," said Fred. "But why did they have it covered
with hay?"

The men tugged at one of the pieces of machinery and at last lifted
it from the wagon. But, instead of setting it on the ground, they
disappeared with it into the ranch.

"Hullo!" ejaculated Dick. "If that is farming machinery, why are they
taking it into the house?"

"Maybe it's a heating apparatus," suggested Sam.

"Yes, they need it in this weather," said Tom sarcastically.

"Well, what is it, then?"

"That remains to be found out," said Dick. "This certainly is a place
of mystery," he added. "It is assuredly no ordinary ranch."

One piece of machinery after another was carried into the ranch,
until the wagon was empty. Then the turnout was taken into a big barn
at the back of the ranch.

"That show is over," said Songbird. "I won-der what the next act in
this drama will be?"

They remained at the top of the tree for an hour or more. During that
time, they saw several men moving around the ranch and some thick
smoke coming from a broad chimney, but that was all.

"How much longer are you going to stay here?" asked Sam presently.

"No longer," answered the eldest brother, starting to descend. "I am
going to investigate this whole thing and find out just what it means!"



CHAPTER XVII

THE BANK BILLS ON THE TABLE

"Dick, this is a dangerous piece of business," said Fred, after the
entire party was again on the ground.

"That's right," broke in Songbird. "Don't forget the warning on the
wall of the shack."

"I am not afraid," answered the eldest Rover. "There is some great
mystery here, and I feel it ought to be investigated. Why, those men
may be bandits, or something like that, for all we know."

"They are certainly not on the level, or they wouldn't put up with
a fellow like Dan Baxter," came from Sam.

"Dot ist so," said Hans. "At der same dime, ve ton't vont to put our
mouths into der lion's head alretty!"

"I've got a plan," said Dick after a pause. "I do not think it a wise
move for all of us to go forward at once. I think two will be enough.
The others can stay here and await developments."

"Then you have got to take me with you," said Sam promptly.

"Sam, you had better let me go with Dick," put in Tom.

"No, I want to go," insisted the youngest Rover, and so it was at
last decided.

"I don't see how you are going to approach that ranch in broad
daylight," said Fred. "As they have guards on the road, it is more
than likely they have guards around the ranch also."

"I think I'll wait until night, Fred--or at least until it is dark."

After that the boys spent the time in exploring the woods and looking
over the plains beyond. They saw several wagon tracks, apparently
leading to nowhere in particular, and they also found something of
a cave, covered with logs and heaped-up brushwood.

"Something more to investigate," said Tom, and began to pull the
brushwood away, followed by his companions. The logs followed, and
there was revealed to them an opening at least twenty feet square by
half that in height.

"What do you call this?" questioned Tom, as he kicked something of
metal lying under a pile of dead leaves.

"It's a roller of some sort," answered Songbird. "And see, here are
some cog-wheels and a lot of old shafting."

"Machinery, and quite some of it, too," murmured Dick. "They must
run a regular factory of some sort here."

"I think I have solved the problem!" cried Fred. "I've read of this
a number of times. This Sack Todd has a secret process of manufacturing
some article and he doesn't want anybody to learn what the process
is. So he has established himself here and sworn all his workmen to
secrecy."

"I've heard of that myself," said Tom. "A man had a certain process
of tanning leather. He kept his secret for years, until a workman
got mad at him and gave the thing away."

Dick was inspecting the machinery with care. It was worn out and
rusted, and hard to make out just what it was.

"Unless I am mistaken, these are parts of a printing press," said
the eldest Rover.

"A printing press?" cried several of the others.

"Yes. But that doesn't solve the mystery of what the press was used for."

It was damp and unwholesome in the cave, and they were glad enough
to leave it and come out into the sunlight once more. They walked
back to where they had left their horses, and here procured lunch,
and fed all of the animals, including Wags.

Slowly the afternoon wore away. It began to grow cloudy, and so became
dark at an early hour.

"We may as well start," said Dick at last. "We can go to the edge of
the woods, anyway."

"I suppose you don't know when you will be back," said Tom.

"No, but probably in three or four hours."

"Take good care of yourselves."

"We'll try to do that," put in Sam.

"If I were you, I'd not expose myself," was Fred's advice. "Those
chaps are rough customers, and there is no telling what they would
do if they caught you spying on them."

"That is true."

A few words more followed, and then Dick and Sam set off on their
tour of inspection. Each carried a pistol, and each felt that he
could take care of himself. But neither dreamed of the dire peril
which he was confronting.

They had left their horses behind, and now found advancing on foot
no easy task. In spots, the undergrowth was so dense they had to
literally force their way through, and they also had to make two long
detours to escape swamps and treacherous bog-holes. The mosquitoes
and gnats were also bad and bothered them not a little.

"I guess we are earning all we are getting out of this," grumbled
Sam as he came to a halt after pulling himself through a tangle of
bushes and vines. "Unless we take care, we'll have our jackets ripped
off our backs."

"Do you want to turn back, Sam?"

"No, but I guess we had better go a little slower."

Dick was willing, and, as a consequence, by the time the edge of the
timber was reached, the sun was sinking over the hills in the West,
and it was growing dark.

Red Rock ranch was now in plain view, not over two hundred yards
distant. In front and to one side was a level stretch. The reddish
rocks were behind, leading to a small hill. There were numerous
outbuildings, and a heavy barbed fence surrounded the whole, excepting
at one point, where there was a wide-swinging gate of wire and boards.

"I think the best thing we can do is to work our way around to the
rocks," said Dick after studying the situation. "We can work up from
the rocks to the outbuildings, and so on to the ranch itself--if we
get the chance."

With caution, they skirted the woods and inside of quarter of an hour
reached the first of the series of rocks. As they crouched behind
these, Dick caught his brother by the arm.

"Keep quiet," he whispered. "I saw a man coming from the barn."

After that, they remained motionless for ten minutes. At a distance,
they saw two men coming and going from one building to another. They
were evidently caring for the horses, cattle and poultry for the night.

"They are gone," said Sam presently, as he saw the men walk toward
the ranch house and disappear.

"Wait--they may come out again."

They waited, but the men did not reappear, and now it was growing
darker rapidly. Look as hard as they might in all directions, they
could not see a single human being.

"The coast seems to be clear now, Sam."

"Yes, but it won't hurt to wait a few minutes longer," was the answer.

As it grew darker, they saw several lights lit in the ranch. One was
in the kitchen, one in what looked to be a bedroom and another in a
small room in the main part of the building. The curtain over the
window of the last-named room was up, and they could see the lamp
quite plainly, resting on a table.