Jack Ranger's Gun Club: or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail

“Not very, I guess,” answered Jack. “The Big Horn starts in Wyoming, but I rather think the chances are a thousand to one against seeing Bill. Poor chap! He has a hard row to hoe. I wish I could help him, but if he’s run away I don’t see how I can.”

“I wish we’d meet him out West,” said Sam. “Wouldn’t it be a joke if, after all, he could go camping with us and fool his mean old guardian?”

“Oh, what’s the use discussing fairy tales?” asked Jack. “Are you fellows all ready? Don’t leave anything behind, now.”

“I guess we’re all here – what there is of us,” remarked Bony, cracking his finger joints.

Just then the whistle of an approaching train was heard.

“Gotchertickets?” asked Budge Rankin, taking in a fresh wad of gum.

“Hu! Do you think I left them until now?” inquired Jack. “I’ve got all the tickets. That’s our train, fellows. Now we’ll say good-by to Denton for a while, and live in the wild and woolly West. Here, Budge, you take that satchel, and I’ll tote the dress-suit case. Try and get seats together, boys.”

A little later they were on the train and being whirled rapidly away from Denton. They had a long journey before them, and as the first part of it contained no features of interest the lads spent all their time discussing what was before them.

“I want to get a big buck mule deer,” remarked Jack as they were talking about what kind of game they would be likely to find.

“Me for a big-horn sheep,” said Nat. “I want to get the head mounted and put it in my room. Then I’ll put my rifle across the horns, and show it to every one who comes in.”

“I s’pose you’ll tell ’em you shot it, won’t you?” asked Bony.

“Of course. I will shoot it.”

“You won’t if you haven’t improved your aim any since we were camping this summer.”

“I can shoot better than you can,” retorted Nat.

“Like pie!” exclaimed Bony, discharging a whole volley of knuckle-bone shots.

“Why, you missed that big muskrat you aimed at, the day before Jack and I were kidnapped!” taunted Nat.

“Yes, but you joggled my arm.”

“I did not.”

“You did so.”

“Hold on,” interposed Jack in a quiet voice. “All the passengers are laughing at you two.”

“I don’t care,” replied Nat. “I guess I can shoot as good as he can.”

“Oh, I fancy there’ll be game enough out there, so if you miss one thing you can hit another,” consoled Sam. “What I want to see are the bad lands. Just think of thousands of small sandstone peaks, so much alike that they look like a stone forest, with sulphur springs here and there, and all sorts of queer-shaped rocks. It must be a great sight!”

“Yes, and it’s easy to get lost among those same peaks,” added Jack. “I read of a hunter who went out there, and he was so near camp that his friends could hear him shouting, but they couldn’t locate him until he began to fire his gun, and then they had hard work because of the echoes. We’ll have to keep together if we get in such a place as that.”

“But there are some woods, aren’t there?” asked Bony.

“Sure, woods, mountains, valleys, and all sorts of wild places,” said Jack. “I fancy there’ll be plenty of snow on the upper peaks, too, but it’s likely to be nice and warm down below.”

“What do you want to shoot, Budge?” asked Nat, for the gum-chewing youth had not said much.

“Hu! Guessarabbit’lldome.”

“A rabbit,” remarked Jack. “Maybe we’ll be glad of a good rabbit stew, or one roasted, in case these mighty hunters don’t bring down a buck or a bear.”

Thus they talked for many miles, until they had to change cars, where they took another road leading more directly West. They arrived at Chicago the morning after the day on which they had started, and spent some time in the Windy City. Then they started off again.

“Two days more and we’ll be in Wyoming,” remarked Jack the next afternoon, as they were speeding through Iowa. “Then for a good time. Eh, fellows?”

“That’s what!” answered Sam. “My, but I’m getting stiff. I’d like to get out and have a ball game.”

“So would I,” said Nat.

Their train stopped at a small station, and was held there for some time.

“Wonder what we’re waiting for?” ventured Jack. “What’s the matter?” he asked of a brakeman who passed through their car at that moment.

“Some block on the line ahead,” was the reply. “We’ll go in a few minutes.”

There was some fretting among the passengers at the delay, but finally the train started off again. It proceeded slowly. Then followed some sharp whistles, and finally there sounded a report like a gun.

“It’s a hold-up!” cried an excited man.

The boys and all about them leaped to their feet in alarm.

“That’s what it is,” went on the man. “It’s a Wild West hold-up! Better hide your watches and money.”

He began emptying his pockets of his valuables, and was thrusting them under his seat.

The train had come to a sudden stop.

“Do you s’pose it’s train robbers?” asked Bony in some alarm.

“I don’t know,” answered Jack. “I guess – ”

“Where’sthegunsan’we’llshoot’em!” exclaimed Budge, jumping up.

Just then a brakeman ran through the car, carrying a red flag.

“What’s the matter? Is it a hold-up? Are they after our money?”

These questions were rapidly fired at him.

“A freight train has broken in two just ahead of us,” explained the railroad man. “The engine’s disabled,” he went on. “We’ve got to back up to a switch so as to pass it. I’ve got to go back with a danger flag.”

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed a woman. “But who got shot? I’m sure I heard a gun go off.”

“That was a torpedo on the track, ma’am,” explained the brakeman. “The freight crew put it there on a sharp curve, so we wouldn’t run into the tail-end of their train. It’s all right. There’s no danger.”