Books: The Pony Rider Boys in Montana
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Frank Gee Patchin >> The Pony Rider Boys in Montana
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This was the second time the lad had been under fire, the first
having been in the battle of the mountaineers, when the Pony Riders
were in the Rocky Mountains, on which occasion Tad had conducted
himself with such coolness and bravery.
Tad realized no fear, however. It thrilled him. A strange sense of
elation possessed him. He felt strong and resourceful--he felt that
he would be willing to do or dare almost anything.
"Let him have it!" commanded the leader sternly.
The men obeyed instantly.
Their weapons sent a rattling fire in the direction of the fleeing
broncho.
"Halt! Will you halt!"
The pony still plunged on.
"Once more!"
The men fired again, two rounds each.
This time they heard the pony plunge crashing to the ground. His
rapid course had come to a sudden end.
The pursuers set up a yell of triumph.
"He's down! He's down! We've got him!"
"Give him another one!"
To make sure that their man should not escape they fired their
weapons again.
The pursuers dashed up with drawn revolvers, ready to shoot at the
least sign of resistance.
Bluff leaped from his pony and struck a match.
Tad's mount lay dying in the brush.
"There's no one here," said Bluff, his face working nervously.
Of Tad Butler there was no sign. He had disappeared utterly.
CHAPTER X
THE RIDE FOB HELP
"There's Pink-eye!" exclaimed Ned Rector.
"Is it possible?" answered the Professor. "Then something has
happened to Tad."
"Mebby--mebby the bear's got him," suggested Stacy Brown, his face
blanching.
All through the night the little party had sat up anxiously awaiting
the return of their companion, who had set out after the bear. The
tent had been ruined, but they found that the rifles had not been
harmed at all, having been stacked in front of the small tents.
Early in the morning the three boys and Professor Zepplin had
followed Tad's trail for some distance into the foothills, but
feared to penetrate too far for fear of getting lost. The Professor
reasoned that it would be much better to return to camp and give Tad
a chance to find his way in in case he himself should prove to have
been lost.
This the boys had done, but they were impatient to be doing
something more active. Ned Rector was fairly fuming, because their
guardian would not permit him to set out alone in search of the
missing boy.
"No," the Professor had said; "if I did that with all of you, we
should have the whole party scattered over the mountains and it is
doubtful if we should all get together again before snow flies."
Yet when Tad's pony came trotting back to camp, the matter took on a
more serious aspect. Something must be done and at once.
"Now, will you let me go, Professor?" begged Ned.
"Not in those mountains alone, if that is what you mean."
"Then what can we do?"
"If the guide were only here!" interjected Walter. "Do you suppose I
could find him?"
"It will be useless to try, my boy. About the only course we can
follow now, is that leading back to Forsythe, and I am not sure that
we shouldn't be lost doing that."
"Then we don't know it," retorted Ned. "I know the trail. I could go
back over it with my eyes shut. Why would that not be the idea,
Professor? Why not let me ride back to Forsythe? Mr. Simms would
give us some one who knew the foothills and mountains and I could
bring him back."
"Let me see, how far is it?" mused the Professor.
"Thirty miles, he said."
"Why, it would take you couple of days to make that and back."
"You try me and see. I can get a fresh pony to come back with, and
if I do not return with the guide, what difference does it make?
He's the one you want. But never fear, I'll be back with him between
now and morning if I have no bad luck," urged the lad earnestly.
"I am half inclined to agree to your plan. If I were sure that you
knew the way----"
"It is not possible to get lost. We have the compasses and we know
the direction in which Forsythe lies. All we have to do is to travel
in an opposite direction from that by which we came."
"Supposing we all go!" suggested Walter.
"Wouldn't do at all," answered the Professor, with an emphatic shake
of the head. "Some one must remain here in case Tad returns. That
boy will get back somehow. I feel sure of that. He is resourceful
and strong. And besides, he has my revolver. No; more than one on
the trip would be apt to delay rather than to help. Master Ned, you
may go." "Good!" shouted the lad. Bad-eye looked up almost
resentfully as the boy approached him on the run, threw on the
saddle and cinched the girths.
The hits were slipped into the animal's mouth, and, placing his left
foot in the stirrup, Ned threw himself into the saddle.
"I'm ready now," he said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, as
he rode up to the little group.
"I'll show you that I'm not a tenderfoot even if I am from
Missouri," he laughed.
"Be careful," warned Professor Zepplin.
"Don't worry about me, and, Chunky, you look out for bears. If Tad
should come in within the next half hour or so, you can fire off
your rifles to let me know. Then I'll turn about and come
back. Good-bye, all."
"Good-bye and good luck," they shouted.
Giving a gentle pressure to the spurs, Ned Rector started off on his
long ride at a brisk gallop. Within a short time the lad had the
satisfaction of finding that he was emerging from the foothills. He
then pulled up the pony and consulted his compass. "Five points
north of east. The Professor said that should take me back. Besides
I remember that we came this way yesterday. I'm going to save some
time by fording that fork without going the roundabout way we took
before."
Ned galloped on again. Had it not been for his anxiety over Tad, he
would have enjoyed his ride to the fullest. The morning was
glorious; the sun had not yet risen high enough to make the heat
uncomfortable; birds were singing and in spots where the sun had not
yet penetrated a heavy dew was glistening on foliage and grass.
Ned drew a long breath, drinking in the delicious air.
"This is real," he said. "Nothing artificial about this. I wish I
might stay here always."
The lad did not think of the deep snows and biting cold of the
northern winters there, winters so severe that hundreds of head of
sheep and cattle frequently perished from the killing weather. He
saw nature only in her most peaceful mood.
He had ridden on for something more than two hours, when he came to
the East Fork, where they had had such an exciting experience two
nights before. After a few moments' riding along the bank he
discovered the spot where they had made their camp on the opposite
side.
"I'm going to take a chance and ford right here," he decided. "No, I
guess my mission is too important to take the risk. If I should get
caught in there I should at least be delayed. There's somebody else
who must be considered. That's Tad."
Half a mile above, the lad found a place that he felt safe in
trying. Luckily he got across without mishap. He had found a rocky
bar without being aware of it, and the water while swift was shallow
enough so that by slipping his feet from the stirrups and holding
them up, he was able to ford the stream without even getting them
damp.
"I wonder why we didn't find this place the other night," he said
aloud. "I guess we were in too big a hurry. That's the trouble with
us boys. We blunder along without using our heads. But, I guess I
had better not boast until after I have gotten back safely from
Forsythe," he laughed. "I may need some good advice myself before
that is accomplished."
The pony with ears laid back had settled to a long, loping gallop,
covering mile after mile without seeming to feel the strain in the
least.
Some distance beyond the Fork, Ned descried a horseman who had
halted on beyond him, evidently awaiting his approach.
Ned was not greatly concerned about this. On the contrary, it was a
relief to see a human being.
The man hailed him as he drew up. Ned noted the red beard and the
general sinister appearance of the man.
"How," greeted the stranger, tossing his hand to the lad.
"How," answered Ned in kind.
"Where you headed!"
"Forsythe."
"Stranger in these parts, I reckon?"
"Yes, sir."
"On a herd?"
"Expect to he soon. Just finished a drive down in Texas."
"Cattle, of course?"
"Oh, yes."
"That's right. This sheep business has got to stop. I hear there's
going to be something doing round these parts pretty lively,"
grinned the stranger.
"What do you mean?" asked the lad, peering sharply into the man's
face.
"Oh, nothing much," answered the other. "Thought being as you were a
cowman it might interest you some."
"It does," replied the boy almost sharply.
"Well, guess the rest, then," laughed the stranger. "Where'd you get
that pony?"
"Is that not rather a personal question?" asked Ned, smiling coldly.
"Not in this country. Kinder reminded me of a nag that belonged to
me. He strayed away from my ranch a few weeks ago," said the fellow
significantly.
"It wasn't this pony," retorted Ned, flushing. "I bought this animal.
Good day, sir, I must be getting along."
"In a hurry, ain't ye?"
"I am," answered Ned, touching the spurs to the pony's sides and
galloping off.
"Hey, hold on a minute," called the stranger.
"Can't. In too much of a hurry," replied Ned.
"I don't like the looks of that fellow at all," muttered the boy as
he rode on, instinctively urging his mount along at an increased
speed to put as much distance as possible between himself and the
curious stranger.
"Funny he should ask me that question about my pony. However,
perhaps it is a peculiarity in this part of the country. Wonder what
he meant by saying that there would be something doing here pretty
quick."
After a time Ned turned in his saddle and looked back. The horseman
was standing as Ned had left him. He was watching the boy. Ned swung
his hand, and then turned, glad that he was well rid of the man.
Late in the afternoon, he saw the village of Forsythe just ahead of
him. The boy could have shouted at the sight.
"Straight as you could shoot a bullet," he chuckled. "I guess I can
follow the old Custer trail without getting lost.
He did not pause, but galloped on into the village and up the main
street, not halting until he had reached the bank with which
Mr. Simms was connected.
He was stiff and sore from the long, continuous ride, and as he
dismounted he found that he could scarcely stand.
After tethering the pony to the iron rod that had been fastened to
two posts, Ned walked into the bank. Red-faced and dusty he
presented himself to the banker. At first the latter did not appear
to recognize him.
"I am Ned Rector of the Pony Rider Boys," explained the lad.
Mr. Simms sprang up and grasped the boy cordially by the hand.
"This is a surprise. You back so soon? Why, is anything wrong!"
"Well, yes, there is," admitted Ned.
"Sit down and tell me about it."
Ned seated himself, but the effort hurt him and he winced a little.
"Stiffened up, eh? Where did you come from?"
The lad explained and Mr. Simms uttered a soft whistle.
"Well, you have had a ride. I didn't suppose you boys could ride
like that. I suppose the guide found you?"
"We have seen nothing of him at all."
"Is it possible? I should not have troubled myself to come back to
tell you had it not been for the fact that one of our boys is lost."
"Lost?"
"Yes. At least we think so. He has been away since early last
evening. We should not have worried so much had not his pony
returned without him early this morning. We dared not go far into
the mountains to search for him for fear of getting lost ourselves."
"You don't mean it?"
"Yes. I came back to see if you could give me a man from here, or
get me one rather. One who knows the mountains and who will ride
back with me at once."
"Of course I will. You did perfectly right in coming to me
quickly. My foreman is in town to-day. He will be in shortly and I
think he will know of some one who will answer your purpose. I wish
you had ridden to my ranch, however. It would have been much
nearer."
"I didn't know where it was."
"Of course not."
"While waiting for the foreman, tell me about how it all happened?"
urged Mr. Simms.
Ned went over the events of the previous evening, in detail, to all
of which the banker gave an attentive ear.
Mr. Simms regarded him with serious face.
"You young men are having plenty of excitement, I must say. Yes, you
are right. Something must have happened to Master Tad. He looks to
me like a boy who could be relied upon to look out for himself
pretty well, however," added the banker.
"He is. We were afraid that perhaps he might have gotten into
trouble with the bear."
"Quite likely. Do you plan on going back with the guide that we get
for you?"
"Certainly."
"Then you will need a fresh, pony. I will have one brought around
for you when you are ready to start. I should think, however, that
it would be best for you to remain over until tomorrow. You'll be
lamed up for sure."
"No, I must go back. I'll be lame all right, but it won't be the
first time. I'm lame and sore now. I've polished that saddle so you
could skate on it already," laughed Ned.
Mr. Simms laughed.
"I can understand that quite easily. I've been in the saddle a good
share of my life, too. There comes the foreman now."
The foreman of the Simms ranch, who bore the euphonious name of Luke
Larue, was a product of the West. Six feet tall, straight, muscular,
with piercing gray eyes that looked out at one from beneath heavy
eyelashes, Ned instinctively recognized him as a man calculated to
inspire confidence.
He shook hands with the young man cordially, sweeping him with a
quick, comprehensive glance.
Mr. Simms briefly related all that Ned Rector had told him, and the
foreman glanced at the young man with renewed interest after
learning of the ride he had taken that morning.
"Pretty good for a tenderfoot, eh?"
Ned's bronzed face took on a darker hue as he blushed violently.
"I don't exactly call myself that now, sir," he replied.
"Right. You say your friend chased a bear out!"
The lad nodded.
Luke shook his head.
"Bad. Can he shoot?"
"Oh, yes. But he had only a revolver--a heavy thirty-eight calibre
that belongs to Professor Zepplin."
"Nice toy to hunt bears with," laughed the foreman. "Bear's probably
cleaned him up. I'll get a man I know and I'll go back with you
myself. We can run down the trail easily enough, but it will need
two trailers, one to follow the pony and the other the bear after
their trails separate," the foreman informed them wisely.
"Do--do--you think he has been killed?" stammered Ned.
"I ain't saying. It looks bad, that's all."
Ned forced a composure that he did not feel. He started to ask a
further question, when there came a sudden interruption that brought
all three to their feet.
CHAPTER XI
A RACE AGAINST TIME
But to return to Tad and his experiences in seeking to elude his
pursuers. The boy saw that it was a question of a few moments only
before they would surely overhaul him. Already the bullets from
their revolvers were making their presence known about him.
"Getting too warm for me," decided the lad coolly.
It occurred to him to leave the pony and take his chances on
foot. The animal did not belong to him and he would have to abandon
it sooner or later.
A volley closer than the rest emphasized his decision. The lad freed
his feet from the stirrups and slipped from the saddle, at the same
time giving the pony a sharp slap, uttering a shrill little "yip!"
as the animal dashed away.
After this, Tad did not wait a second. He ran obliquely away from
the pony. This he thought would be better than turning sharply to
the left or right. The next moment he came into violent contact with
the base of a tree. He noted that it's trunk was a sloping one, and
without pausing to think of the wisdom of his act, the lad quickly
scrambled up it.
To his delight he found himself amid the spreading branches of a
pinon tree. He wriggled in among the foliage, stretching himself
along a limb, where he clung almost breathless. He had no sooner
gained that position than the pony went down under the fire of his
pursuers.
"Too bad," muttered Tad. "It's a shame I had to desert the
broncho. He did me a good service."
The men galloped by a few feet from the boy's hiding place and came
to a halt beside the prostrate pony. His straining ears caught their
every word.
When they began to shoot, Tad flattened himself still more,
instinctively. Some of the bullets passed close beneath him, and he
wished that he might have chosen a higher tree in which to hide.
Bang!
It seemed to have cut the leaves just behind his head.
Tad repressed a shiver and shut his lips tightly together. He was
determined not to permit himself to feel any fear.
At last the men joined each other right under the tree in which he
was hiding. Tad fairly held his breath.
"Well, what do you think, Cap?"
"Don't think. I know. The cayuse has given us the slip."
"No, not much use looking for him. Better wait here till morning
then try to trail him down, if we don't find him laid out somewhere
in the bushes round here," suggested one.
"Yes, we might as well go back to camp. We can't spend much time
looking for him in the morning. We've got other work to do. I wish I
knew just how much that fellow overheard. Queerest thing I ever come
across, and I don't like it a little bit."
They removed the saddle and bridle from the dead pony, after which
they started slowly away.
Tad breathed again. Yet he still lay along the pinon limb, every
sense on the alert. He was not sure that it was not a trick to draw
him out. He already was too good a woodsman to be caught napping
thus easily.
After a time, however, deciding that all the men had left, the lad
cautiously began to work his way down the sloping tree trunk. His
feet touched the ground, his arms still being about the pinon
trunk. In that position he lay for several minutes.
"I guess it's all right," decided Tad, straightening up. "The
question is, which way shall I go? I've got to be a long ways from
here by daylight or that will be the end of me. It would be just my
luck to run right into that gang again."
After pondering a moment he decided that, knowing the direction the
men had taken, there was only one thing for him to do. He would
strike out in the opposite direction.
He did so at once, first standing in one spot for some time to get
his bearings exactly. Then, the lad started away bravely. At first
he moved cautiously and as he got further away, increased his speed
and went on with less caution.
He kept bearing to the right to offset the natural tendency to stray
too far the other way, which is usual with those who are lost in the
forest.
Tad was tired and sore, but he did not allow himself to give any
thought to that. His one thought now, was to get out of the forest
and give the alarm to the owner of the ranch against whom he had
heard the men plotting.
Hearing water running somewhere near, Tad realized that he was very
thirsty, and after a few minutes' search, he located a small
mountain stream. Making a cup of his hands he drank greedily, then
took up his weary journey again. Forcing his way through dense
patches of brush, stumbling into little gullies, becoming entangled
amongst fallen trees and rotting brush heaps, boy and clothes
suffered a sad beating.
Day dawned faintly after what had seemed an endless night. The sky
which he could faintly make out through the trees above him, was of
a dull leaden gray, which slowly merged into an ever deepening
blue. Off to his right he caught glimpses of patches of blue that
were lower down.
"I must be up in the mountains," said Tad aloud. "I wonder how I
ever got up here."
This was a certain aid to him, however. He reasoned that if the
valley lay to his right, he must be going nearly northward. That
would lead him toward the place where he believed the Simms ranch
lay, and at the present moment that was Tad Butler's objective
point. It might be losing valuable time were he to try to find his
way back to camp.
"I'll get down lower," he decided, turning sharply to the right and
descending the sloping side of the mountains.
Reaching the lower rocks, he found that he was more likely to lose
his way there than higher up. He was now in the foothills. There,
all sense of direction was lost. So Tad, began ascending the
mountain. He went up just far enough to enable him to see the blue
sky off to the right again, after which he forced his way along the
rocky slope. It was tough traveling and he felt it in every muscle
of his body.
After plodding on for hours, he paused finally and listened.
"Thought I heard a bell tinkle," he muttered. "I've heard of people
hearing such things when they were nearly crazed with hunger and
fatigue on the desert. I wonder if I am going the same way. Oh,
pshaw! Tad Butler, you could keep on walking all day. Don't be
silly," he said to himself encouragingly.
The tinkling bell was now a certainty.
"I know what it is!" exclaimed the lad joyously. "It's sheep! I've
heard them before. I'm near sheep and that means there will be men
around. It's sheepmen that I am looking for now."
With hat in hand, the boy dashed off down the mountain side, leaping
lightly from rock to rock, his red neck-handkerchief streaming in
the breeze behind him, as he followed an oblique course toward the
foothills.
All at once he burst out on to a broad, green mesa, and there,
before his delighted eyes was a great herd of snowy-white sheep
grazing contentedly. Off on the further side of the flock he
descried a man lazily sitting in his saddle while a dog was rounding
up a bunch of stray lambs further to Tad's right.
The man was watching the work of the dog, so that he did not
discover the lad at once.
Tad decided that he would go around the herd to the left. That
appeared to be the shortest way to reach him. He did not wish to try
to go straight through the herd.
He had gone but a little way before he saw that the man had observed
him and was now riding around the upper end of the flock to meet
him.
"Hello, what do you want?" shouted the fellow.
"I want to find Mr. Simms's ranch. Is it anywhere near here?"
"Two miles up that way. Where'd you come from?"
"I don't know. I've been lost in the mountains. I must see Mr. Simms
at once."
"Guess you've got a long walk ahead of you then," laughed the
sheepman. "Boss Simms is up to Forsythe."
"Is his family at the ranch?" asked Tad.
"I reckon the women folks is. You seem to be in a hurry, pardner."
"I am. I must hurry."
Wondering at the haste of the disreputable looking youngster, the
sheepman watched him until he had gotten out of sight. Finding the
footing good and encouraged by the knowledge that he had but two
miles to go, the lad dropped into a lope which he kept up until the
white side of the Simms ranch buildings reflected back the morning
sun just ahead of him.
Tads legs almost collapsed under him as he staggered into the yard
and asked a boy whom he saw there, for Mrs. Simms.
He was directed by a wave of the hand to a near-by door, on which
Tad rapped insistently.
"I wish to see Mrs. Simms, please," he said to the servant, who
responded to his knock.
"I am Mrs. Simms. What is it you wish?" answered a voice somewhere
in the room. It was a pleasant voice, reminding Tad much of his
mother's, and a sense of restfulness possessed him almost at
once. He felt almost as if he were at home again.
"I would like to speak with you, alone, please."
"Who are you?"
"I am Tad Butler from Missouri. I----"
"Oh, yes, nay husband told me you were expected," she said
cordially, extending her hand.
"I owe you an apology for appearing in this shape, but I have been
lost in the mountains and seem to be rather badly in need of a
change of clothes," smiled the lad.
"Come right in. Never mind the clothes. Perhaps I may be able to
help you. You say you have been lost?"
"Yes."
"Where are your companions?"
"I don't know. I left them in camp somewhere, I am not sure where."
"Oh, that is too bad. If you will remain until night perhaps we can
spare one of the herders to help you find them----"
"Pardon me, but it is not for that that I came here," interrupted
the lad. "It was on a far more important matter."
"Yes?"
"It is a matter that concerns your husband very seriously."
"Tell me about it, please?" said Mrs. Simms anxiously.
"Have you anyone that you could send to Forsythe at once with an
urgent message for your husband?" he asked.
"There is no one. The herders would not dare to leave their
flocks--that is not until the sheep were safe in their corral
to-night."
"That will be too late. I'll have to go myself. Have you a spare
pony that I could ride!"
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