The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek: or, Fighting the Sheep Herders

They waited a little longer after the sparks of the second rocket had died away, but the signal – and it seemed positively to be that – was not repeated.

"No use standing here," murmured Old Billee. "It will soon be morning, and if anything happens we'll be ready for it. Let's get our rest out. Is your trick up, Bud?"

"Not quite, Billee."

"Well, Dick and I go on next," remarked Yellin' Kid, "and we might as well jump in now as long as we're up. Turn in, Bud and Nort."

Our young heroes were glad enough to do this, though they never would have asked to be relieved before their time. Accordingly, after a few moments of looking in vain toward where they had seen the rocket, for a repetition of the signals, Bud and Nort went inside the cabin, and stretched out for a little rest before day should fully break.

The remainder of the night – really a short period – was without alarm or any sign that hostile forces were on their way to take possession of land claimed by the owner of Diamond X.

"Grub's ready!" was the musical call of the cook, and soon those who were holding the line at Spur Creek were gathered about the table.

"Well, nothing happened, I see, or, rather, I don't see," remarked Bud to Dick and the Yellin' Kid who had come in off guard duty.

"Nary a thing," answered he of the loud voice. "Didn't hear a peep out of anybody and they wasn't no more fireworks."

"But we'd better keep pretty closely on the watch to-day," suggested Dick. "Those rockets meant something."

"You're right," said Billee Dobb. "We'll stick right close to our little old fort to-day, and, boys, be sure your guns are in quick working order. There may be no shootin' and then, ag'in, there may be," he drawled.

I suppose I need not tell you that the boy ranchers in their secret hearts rather hoped there would be shooting. They had been under fire before, and while they were not foolhardy nor inclined to take risks, they felt that if there was to be a fight on the part of the sheep men to get unlawful possession of Diamond X land, the sooner such a fight took place the better. Suspense was worse than actual conflict.

So after the "chores" had been attended to about the Spur Creek fort (and there were not many duties), it became a matter of waiting. Spur Creek made a bend at this part of Mr. Merkel's holdings, and the fort was situated on what was a sort of triangular peninsula, with the stream flowing on two sides of it. In this way it was what, during the World War, was called a "spearhead" into the country to the south, and it was from this country that the Mexican, Greaser or other sheep herders might be expected to invade the range long held sacred to horses and cattle. But this land, by government proclamation, was now thrown open to all comers.

Because of the peculiar formation of the land it lent itself readily to defense, and also gave a good post for observation. The "fort" had been hastily built on the extreme point, as near the creek as was practical. Back, on either side, extended the banks of the stream, and when breakfast had been served Old Billee, who was in command, selected those who were to patrol the banks on each side of the cabin, for a distance several miles back along the edges of the "spearhead."

The morning passed. The first contingent of scouts had come in to eat and another body was about to go out to relieve them when Bud, who had gone down to the edge of the creek, to clean a particularly muddy pair of shoes, looked across the stream, and uttered a cry of alarm.

Riding up from the southland, Mexico if I may so call it (though the actual country of the Montezumas was distant many miles), was a lone horseman. He was coming along, "sweating leather," and was seen by others of the Diamond X forces almost as soon as observed by Bud.

"Some one's coming!" yelled Bud, and he stood up on the edge of Spur Creek looking at the approaching horseman until Yellin' Kid shouted:

"Better duck back here, boy. No telling when he may unlimber a gun!"

It was good advice and Bud took it, to the extent of getting back nearer the cabin fort. On came the rider, seemingly fearless, until he pulled rein on the other side of the stream and sat there on the back of his panting horse, a most picturesque figure.

"Mex from hat to stirrups," murmured Snake Purdee.

"An' wicked from outside to inside," added Yellin' Kid in a lower voice than usual.

The Mexican rider, for such he seemed to be, raised one hand, smiled to show two rows of very white teeth in the expanse of a very dark face, took off his broad-brimmed and high crowned hat and said:

"Parlez, señors?"

It was in the form of a question, and as such Old Billee answered it.

"Talk?" grunted the veteran cow puncher. "What about?"

"The land," replied the stranger, with another smile evidently intended to be engaging, but which seemed rather mocking. "I come to ask why you are here in such force, evidently to stop any who might wish to cross to feed their stock on open range?"

"Well, it'll save trouble in a way, if you recognize the fact that we are here to stop you," said Billee. "An' we're goin' to! Sabe?"

"But for why?" asked the other, speaking English much better than his appearance seemed to indicate he might be able to. "It is land open to all who come, and I have come – "

"Then you may as well go back where you came from!" interrupted Yellin' Kid, "'cause there's going to be no onery sheep pastured here, an' you can roll that in your cigaret an' smoke it!" he added, as the stranger calmly made himself a "smoke" from a wisp of paper and some tobacco he shook into it from a small cloth bag.

There was no answer to this implied challenge on the part of Yellin' Kid, hardly even the flicker of an eyelash to show that the stranger heard and understood.

Yet he must have heard. Yellin' Kid was not one to leave a matter of that sort in doubt. His tones were always above the average.

And that he has made himself plain was evident to all – even to the stranger it would appear. For there was that in his air – something about him – which seemed to say that he had absorbed what the cowboy had intimated.

Whether he would profit by the remarks – well, that was another matter – something for the future.

But if he was at all apprehensive it was not manifested by any tremor of his hands; for not a grain of tobacco was spilled.

CHAPTER VIII

SUSPICIONS

For several moments the situation remained thus; the boy ranchers and their friends were on one side of Spur Creek, determined to repulse any attempt on the part of the strange horseman, who was on the opposite shore, to cross and make a landing. In this case it might be considered a legal taking possession of disputed land, and open the way for a band of sheep men to enter. On the other side was the lone horseman calmly puffing at his cigaret, as if literally taking the advice of Yellin' Kid.

The three boys, and the older cowboys also, had their guns in readiness for action, but it was easy to guess that the lone horseman, unless he was extremely foolhardy, would not attempt to do anything in the face of such odds.

More than two minutes passed, and if you want to know how long this is in a tense situation take out your watch and count the seconds.

Then the stranger on the Mexican side of Spur Creek tossed away his smouldering cigaret stub, took a deep breath and exhaled the smoke. Next he spoke softly.

"You will have no sheep, señors?" he asked.

"Nary a sheep!" declared Billee Dobb, "an' you can tell them that sent you!"

A half smile – a contemptuous smirk of the lips – seamed for a moment the bronzed, weather-beaten and wrinkled face of the lone horseman. He tightened the reins and his steed made ready to gallop off.

"I shall see you again, señors. Adios!" he cried, and, with a graceful wave of his hand he wheeled and rode off as fast as he had approached.

For a few seconds longer there was silence in the ranks of those holding Fort Spur Creek as it might be called. Then Bud broke out with:

"What do you make of that?"

"Can't make much," admitted Old Billee. "If he came to find out whether we were ready, he went away satisfied."

"Regular stage and moving picture stuff!" commented Nort.

"I believe the fellow was an actor," laughed Dick. "The way he flipped his cigaret and waved to us – he must have been in the movies sometime."

"I'll movie him if he comes on this side of Spur Creek!" muttered Snake Purdee. "Him and his 'adios'! Nothin' but a Greaser, I'll wager!"