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

"You mean, where are the Chinks? You bet I'm wondering that! Wait, I believe I can find out. Hey, Mex!" The agent called to the cook who was standing on the edge of the group. "Come here! You know him?"

He pointed to a man seated on the ground, leaning against a tree, with one of his sleeves burned entirely away. The arm was scorched. But with his other hand the man was calmly holding a cigarette.

The Mexican cook looked at him and then nodded briefly.

"He's your brother, isn't he?"

Another careless nod.

"Then you ask him what became of the Chinks!"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Dick wanted to know.

"Tried it – won't answer. I think his brother can make him talk."

This proved to be correct. The cook bent over his brother and made a few rapid motions with his fingers. The seated man muttered something. Again the cook's fingers moved. This time his brother answered more at length, and the cook walked in the direction of a small shed, motioning to the others to follow. Nort and Mr. Hawkins trailed along behind. When they reached the shack the cook pointed to it.

"In there?" the agent asked doubtfully. It didn't seen large enough to hold more than two men. It had probably been used to shelter a calf when the place had been run by a farmer.

The Mexican nodded. Hawkins stepped to the small door and jerked it open. A bundled-up mass of humanity almost tumbled into his arms, and when they untangled themselves, there were not two Chinese, but five!

"How in thunderation did you all ever get in there?" Nort inquired wonderingly. "Hey, you! Quiet down! We're not going to hurt you. What do you think this is, a circus? Gee! They were like sardines!"

The Chinese were as excited as rabbits, and chattered away in evident fear. None of them spoke English, and it was some time before they could be made to understand that no harm was intended them.

As the agent returned to the little group of wounded and others, he saw them centered about something and all talking at once. He quickened his pace and in a moment saw the cause of the commotion.

"Billee Dobb!" he exclaimed. "Golly, I'm glad to see you moving again! How did you get over here?"

"Dick and Yellin' Kid carried me," the veteran rancher answered with a smile. "Like a silly baby! They jest lifted me up an' brung me along. Said I had to see the last act, anyway."

"How are you feeling?" Hawkins asked anxiously. "I wanted to go to you soon as I heard about it, but I couldn't, Billee."

"Sure, I know you couldn't. I was all right. Dick stayed by me until I had to threaten him with a six-gun to get him to help you people. Why, I'm feelin' O. K. now. Jest got me in the shoulder. Laid me out for a spell – I ain't as young as I was – why, I remember the time when I got an arrow full in the side – didn't phase me none – went right on and got the guy that shot it – I was a man in them days – I remember – "

"Now, Billee, take it easy," Bud said gently. "Tell us all about it later. You got lots of time. Thirsty?"

"A leettle," the rancher replied with a sigh. Bud leaned over and held his canteen to the other's lips. Billee took a long drink and sighed again. "Tired," he said weakly. "Want to sleep."

He lay back on the blanket. Bud drew the edges over him and motioned the others away. "Let him sleep. Best thing in the world for him. We'll take him back later. I don't want to move him until that wound gets good and quiet."

"What about these others?" Nort inquired. "We want to get them out of the way. There are five men who can't walk. Then there's two more who managed to get out without being burned. They're here too. We've got to get them all back some way. Can't walk them, and we haven't enough horses. What do you think, Mr. Hawkins?"

"Let me see," the agent said. "It is a problem, Nort. Bud, have you a suggestion? The sooner we can get the bunch to town the quicker we'll get something hot to eat. And a little sleep wouldn't harm us any. Think of anything, Bud?"

"Well, if – " The boy stopped and listened intently. In the distance he heard the sounds of horses. Then as they approached nearer the creaking noise of a wagon traveling fast came to him. The next moment all heard a voice yelling:

"Get along there, boys! Watch it – watch it! Pete, you spavin-back cayuse, come out of that! Quit side-steppin'! At a baby – now yore goin'! Out of that hole! Out of it! Pete! Pete! You dog-eared knock-kneed bleary-eyed paint, if you don't swing wide I'll skin you alive! You, Pete!"

A rattling buckboard popped into view like the presiding genius of a jack-in-the-box.

"It's our friend from town – from the store!" Nort exclaimed.

"Yes, and look who's with him!" Bud yelled. "It's Dad! Yea, Dad! Golly, I'm glad you came! You're just in time!"

CHAPTER XXV

YELLIN' KID FINDS HIS BRONC

The wagon came to a sudden stop, and Mr. Merkel jumped out.

"Hello, son! Howdy, boys! Say – what happened here? Bud – how did you get burned? You hurt?" There was a note of anxiety in the father's voice.

"Not a bit, Dad! Just blackened up a little. Had a fire, and we had to pull some men out. Look at that!"

The boy pointed to the mass of embers that was once a house. The fire had died down until now there was only glowing bits of wood left. It had started quickly and ended as suddenly.

"Anybody seriously burned?" Mr. Merkel looked at his son keenly, as though to satisfy himself that he was uninjured. The father's glance evidently convinced him that Bud was all right, for he turned quickly and said to the others:

"Where's Billee Dobb? I don't see him."

"Billee is the one who is really hurt, Uncle," Nort answered. "He's got a piece of lead in his shoulder. He's asleep now – be all right later, I think."

"Shot! The rascals! They'll suffer for that! You want to get Billee to a doctor as soon as possible, before infection sets in. We'll bring him back in the wagon."

"How did you happen to come here, Dad?" Bud asked curiously. "I didn't think you knew where we were."

"I didn't, exactly. I have a confession to make, Bud. You weren't sent out here to herd sheep. You were sent to do just what you did – to capture the smugglers."

"But – but why didn't you tell us?"

"I couldn't, Bud. I gave my word to the government that I'd not let on the reason I was sending you out here. You see, no one could tell just what would happen. If you knew that you were sent to go after smugglers, and you went after the wrong gang, things would be in a pretty mess. So they concluded that it was best to leave you in the dark. I'll admit I favored telling you, boys, but as it turned out, the other way may have been best. Even as it was, I let slip something about it. And when you weren't at the ranch I figured you might be in this direction. I sort of suspected this place. Well, all's well that ends well. Now what, boys?"

"If we can get that wild buckboard man to drive slowly, we have a load of passengers to take back. Oh, say, Dad, do you know Mr. Hawkins? I don't know whether you – " Bud paused suggestively.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Merkel said with a smile. "We're old friends. He came to me long ago and arranged most of this scheme. Sorry we had to do it, boys – but the government seems to know its business!"

"I'm glad you look at it in that light, Mr. Merkel," the agent said as he shook hands. "We have to be very, very careful – and a slip that may seem trivial to others may mean success or failure to us. But let me say that these boys have more than come up to expectations. I have never seen a better – "

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" the Kid laughed. "It might go to our heads. But one thing, Mr. Hawkins. It's about – "

"I know – the reward! And you get it, too, boys. As soon as we get to town I'll give you a check that's in my office safe. You have certainly earned it."

"Now we can get a new bunch of longhorns!" shouted Dick gleefully. "Great stuff! That's worth going without a night's sleep for!"

"And the radio," Nort broke in. "We get that, too!"

"You and your sparkin' outfit," Yellin' Kid scoffed. "You want music with your grub, I guess!"