The Boy Ranchers on Roaring River: or, Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers

"How do you know?" Bud asked with wide-open eyes.

"I mean to us. Why, did something happen to you, too?"

"I'll tell you about it in a minute. Let's hear your story first."

"Not much of a story," Dick said. "We saw Delton."

"You did! Where?"

"You remember that water hole the Kid found the Chinaman at?"

"Yes – go ahead!"

"Well, Nort and I decided to take another look at it on our second trip back from town, so we rode over. It isn't so far from here. And as we reached it – only about an hour ago – we saw a group of men talking. We rode up easy, but they heard us and beat it. We saw one of them, though. It was Delton."

"And do you know what he was doing there?" Bud asked with a quizzical smile.

"What?"

"Chasing me! I found the water hole, too, and something else and this Delton dragged me for miles and locked me in a room. Then I got out and his gang followed me to the water hole, where I lost them."

"Hey, take it easy! Start from the beginning. Let's hear it, Bud."

Nort and Dick listened eagerly as Bud once again told the tale of his capture.

CHAPTER XVII

A NIGHT OF WAITING

"The old rascal!" Nort exclaimed after Bud had finished. "So that's what they were doing at the water hole? If we had known that we would have taken a chance and rushed them."

"Just as well you didn't," Bud declared. "Wouldn't have gained anything by it. And anyway, we don't want to upset their plans for to-morrow night. The Kid, here, thinks they'll go through with the idea."

"Don't be too sure," warned Dick. "It may never come off, since they know Bud overheard them planning."

"Yes, but don't you see they can't get word to the others in time?" the Kid insisted. "They can't call it off. The other end of the smuggling line has already made plans that they can't break, so this end has to go through with their scheme. At least that's the way I look at it."

"Seems reasonable," Dick agreed. "But just the same I think it's better to be prepared."

"Naturally. What did you find out about the sheep-man, Dick?"

The latter spoke of one tentatively engaged and told the Kid his new horse would be sent over in a day or so.

The remainder of the day went quickly. When evening came the boys were excitedly making plans for the following night. After "chuck" they gathered around the table in the sitting room and discussed ways and means. The Kid was in favor of drastic action.

"No, we've got to go slowly," Dick cautioned. "This isn't strictly our affair, you know. The government is interested in it. And it's anything but a joking matter. The other adventures we had – at Spur Creek and in the desert – were our own concern entirely. This is different. Hawkins hasn't said so, but I think it means a lot to him if we aid in capturing the smugglers."

"Thought you were out here to herd sheep?" Billee Dobb put in.

"We were – at first. But there's no use trying to dodge the issue – from now on until this business is finished, we have one job on hand – to help stop Chink smuggling. The sheep can wait."

"That's the stuff!" Yellin' Kid burst out. "I was waitin' to hear you say that, Dick. Might as well look things in the face! We've gotten too deep into this to drag freight now!"

"You're right, Kid," approved Bud. "And truth to tell, I'm not a bit sorry. I don't care for Delton a-tall. We'll go through with this, and finish it up right."

"And get my ole bronc back," the Kid said loudly.

"We might do that, too," Dick laughed. "Well, let's hit the hay. Plenty to do to-morrow."

The night passed quietly. The punchers were up with the sun, all eager for the task on hand. Directly breakfast was over, Dick and Bud rode to town in order to see Hawkins. All thought it best that the deputy should learn, as soon as possible, of the new development, for he might want to change his plans in accordance. The boys found him in his office.

"Come in, boys!" he invited when Dick and Bud stood in the doorway. "How's everything? Any more cyclones?"

"Not yet," answered Bud with a laugh. "The weather is quiet, but that's the only thing that is."

"What do you mean?" the deputy asked quickly.

Without any preliminaries Bud told the story of his capture and escape. The deputy listened carefully, now and then asking a question. When Bud had finished he sat silent for a moment, drumming his desk with his fingers. Suddenly he brought his fist down with a bang and looked up.

"That settles it!" he cried in a decided tone of voice. "Delton is finished! From now on we go after him tooth and nail! And I want you boys to know something. I can rely on you, of course, to keep it a secret." Strangely the deputy's western accent seemed to leave him, and he assumed a more cultured tone of voice. He held a shiny piece of metal out toward Bud. "I'm from Washington – Secret Service – here's my badge."

Bud took it silently. It was, indeed, the badge of a federal official.

"I took this job as an ordinary deputy to disarm suspicion," Hawkins went on. "I knew if I came to Roaring River as a stranger I'd be investigated, and perhaps have to give myself away. So I just got myself appointed a deputy, and then I could work openly. No one would suspect a western deputy of being a federal man – there's too many of them. Now you know why I'm so interested in this smuggling. We've simply got to stop it – somehow! Even the Chinese who are in this country legitimately don't like to see their countrymen come in by the back door. And what good are immigration laws if we can't enforce them? I'm just telling you this to impress upon you the seriousness of the project."

"It is certainly no joking matter," Bud agreed, handing back the badge. "So you're a federal man! I should think if you wanted to trace the smugglers secretly you'd take another position than deputy."

"You'll see how it will work out," Hawkins said. "It's sometimes best to seem almost what you are, to avoid seeming what you really are. Figure that one out. What I mean is, if I openly assume the aspect of a man of the law, no one will look further than that. Understand?"

"I do," responded Dick. "And now let's decide on our plan of action. Do you think what happened to Bud will change any of the details, Mr. Hawkins?"

"Don't see why it should. In fact I think it makes our scheme all the more advisable. Personally, I believe the run will go through to-night. There's no doubt but that's what you heard referred to, Bud, for I had a tip concerning the same thing. They will depend on the element of surprise and the superiority in number to succeed. We'll have our hands full, at any rate."

"Somehow this doesn't seem real," mused Bud. "Here we are planning to capture a gang of smugglers who know we're after them, yet they go right ahead and play into our hands."

"My dear boy," said Hawkins grimly, "you don't quite understand. Delton is far from playing into our hands. In fact, if truth be told, our chances are rather slim that we'll ever see Delton. He's no baby. But I think we've got him beaten in one way – the gang across the border doesn't know what we know. Now here's the situation." Dick and Bud came closer. "A shipload of Chinks have just landed in Mexico. Never mind how I know, but I do. These Chinese have got to be smuggled over the border within three days, to make room for another bunch. All right. This gang in Mexico corresponded with Delton last week, telling him that he was to receive the Chinks on a certain night.

"There's one thing we want to make sure of – and that is to avoid frightening them off. Has there been much action around your ranch?"

"None at all. We've kept things pretty quiet."

"That's good. Tell you – I think it would be best if you fellows would stay as close to the ranch house as possible, until this thing is over. You see the smugglers might send out a one man auto patrol, some time to-day or this evening, to look over the lay of the land, and if he sees anything suspicious the chances are that he'll choose another route to ship the Chinks over the border by. But I don't think they'll go far from Roaring River. They got away with it so easy last time, that they'll probably try it again. Well – " Hawkins tightened his lips grimly – "they won't work it twice."

"Any more instructions?" Dick asked.

"No – I'll be over to the Shooting Star sometime this afternoon. May bring a friend with me – Larry O'Connor – one sweet shot with a revolver. That is if I think we need him."

"Well, we've got five men all told," Dick declared. "And all of us are fairly used to handling guns. Target practice at tin cans keeps your eye in, and we do lots of that."