THE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMP

BY JAMES CODY FERRIS Author of “The X Bar X Boys on the Ranch,” “The X Bar X Boys at the Round-Up,” etc. ILLUSTRATED BY Walter S. Rogers NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Made in the United States of America {ii}

WESTERN STORIES FOR BOYS By JAMES CODY FERRIS THE X BAR X BOYS BOOKS

THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCH THE X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYON THE X BAR X BOYS ON WHIRLPOOL RIVER THE X BAR X BOYS ON BIG BISON TRAIL THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UP THE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMP

(OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION.) ——— GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

Copyright, 1928, by GROSSET & DUNLAP, Inc. —— The X Bar X Boys at Nugget Camp {iii}

CHAPTER I A Dangerous Cast

By the time Roy Manley shortened the stirrup that had loosened and slipped down two holes, his brother Teddy was nearly out of sight behind the hunch-backed rise of ground. Roy heard a faint yell as pony and boy disappeared completely.

“Got lightning grease on his heels,” he grumbled, struggling with the stirrup. “Belle, why don’t you take Nell in out of this sun? You and Curly get one on each side of her, and cart her along.”

“Cart me along!” Nell Willis responded indignantly. “Think I’m a bag of potatoes?”

Belle Ada, the girl Roy Manley had addressed, laughed merrily. She was Roy’s sister, a dark-haired, dark-eyed daughter of the plains, thirteen years old, with a gift for practical jokes that was often extremely disconcerting.{2}

Belle Ada, with her two brothers, had been visiting the 8 X 8 ranch, belonging to Peter Ball, a close friend of the two brothers and of their father. Some time before Nell Willis and Ethel, or “Curly,” Carew, had come from the East to see their aunt, Mrs. Ball. Whether it was due to their liking of Western scenery or to the fact that the X Bar X ranch—where Teddy and Roy lived—was within riding distance, is a question still to be determined; but at any rate, they stretched their visit from one month into many months.

They were rapidly growing to look upon the great spaces of the West as their real home. But an incident, such as had just occurred, served to show that they had not quite earned the title of cowgirls.

Nell had been thrown. Her mount stopped suddenly, and the girl had taken the shortest route to the ground, fortunately lauding free of the horse and unhurt aside from a severe shaking up. The pony tossed his head, rolled his eyes significantly, and streaked in the general direction of Chicago, Teddy hot on his trail. Roy’s stirrup had taken that moment to slip.

“Be good now, Nell,” Roy admonished. “You put an awful dent in mother earth, you know. Yay—there she is!” He gave the strap a final tug and then vaulted into the saddle.{3} “If Teddy catches that bronc while his big brother is playing nursemaid to a horse, I’ll never hear the last of it. Got to get me a new pair of stirrups. Get in out of the sun, Nell! We’ll have you—”

“Never mind about the sun!” Nell called. “You rope yourself tight to Star and keep your feet out of the stirrups!”

It is doubtful if Roy heard the remark, however well directed it was, for he had given his pony a quick jab with his heels and was dashing toward the hills behind which his brother had disappeared. Seventeen is not an age which will gracefully admit the superiority of another, even though that other be a brother. Roy wanted very much to catch Nell’s runaway pony before Teddy did.

He bent low over Star’s neck and watched the little spurts of dust fly up as the pony pounded over the dry earth. To his ears came the low murmur of Rocky Run River, a stream which skirted both the X Bar X and the 8 X 8 ranches. The spring sun was melting the mountain snows, and the river was at its highest point.

“If Teddy heads him in the right direction, he can corner him,” Roy muttered. “And that means I’ll arrive just in time to be late. Blame that stirrup! If it had been Curly’s horse it wouldn’t be so bad. But I ought to catch Nel{4}l’s bronc—instead of Teddy catching him.”

He did not explain this enigmatical statement, even to himself. It just occurred to him, and re-occurred with added force as the moments passed. He, and not Teddy, should capture the runaway.

“But what chance have I?” he murmured. “I can’t—Sweet daddy, there he is! There he is! He must have doubled back!”

In the distance Roy caught a glimpse of a riderless pony, tail straight out in the wind.

“Here we go, Star!” Roy shouted. “Take him down! Atta baby!”

Star, quick to sense what was wanted of him, swung toward the runaway. He seemed to feel something of his rider’s anxiety, and his breath came more swiftly as he settled down to the task.

Now the other pony saw them, and hesitated, head held high, forefeet straight as poles. Then he bobbed toward the ground as though he were making a bow and was off like a shot.

It never entered Roy’s head to think what had become of Teddy. He was too intent on one thing—catching Nell’s pony and bringing it to her.

“All right, Star,” Roy muttered. “A little of the old fight now.”

He sat in the saddle as though he were part of the horse, a centaur come to life on the{5} plains of the West. As his steed’s feet tapped the ground, to draw apart and then tap again, the boy’s body moved back and forth with a rhythm that was beautiful. Not once was the motion interrupted.

“There he goes—straight for the river!”

It was impossible to tell at that distance whether or not Roy was gaining on the runaway. At times he seemed closer, then a clump of trees would block the boy’s view, and when he again caught sight of the horse it would appear as though he had lost ground.

“Somethin’s got to happen pretty quick,” the boy said aloud. “He can’t go far to the left when he reaches the river on account of the rocks. He’ll have to take the right trail. That means a good long chase unless he gets winded soon—and I don’t think he will. Star, old boy, we’ve got to work!”

The horse nodded his head to shake a bit of foam from his lips, and Roy chuckled. It looked as if Star had understood and agreed.

“So you do know what it’s all about? Well, I won’t talk any more—might disturb you. Anyway, you don’t have to answer me. Just you go along, and we’ll have a speech making contest when this thing’s over—you and me.”

It was characteristic of Roy to think of the unusual even at a moment like this. The idea of him and his horse standing opposite each{6} other and discussing the pros and cons of a question struck him as extremely humorous, and he snickered loudly. Star raised his head inquiringly, and as he did so the pony in front changed its direction and headed for the left.

Roy was jolted out of his mood. The left! That meant the rocks!

“Is he crazy enough to try to get out that way?” Roy ejaculated. “He’ll burst his fool head open, if he does! Reckon I have to reach him before he takes a dive! Be a fine thing for me to tell Nell her pony is waiting to be made into sausages. Step on it, Star!”

To one who did not know the pony, it would seem that Star had already done all the “stepping on it” he was able. But now he drew his ears just a little closer to his head, bunched his muscles a little tighter, and flashed ahead.

This time it was apparent the pursuers were gaining. The white spot on the runaway’s flank was plainly visible.

“Now we have it! Now we have it! Now we have it!” Roy grunted, the words keeping time with the beat of the pony’s feet. “Into the rocks he goes, and in we go after him. ‘Into the valley of death rode the six hundred!’ ‘Mighty is he who wields the sword, but mightier still—’ I forget the rest of that. Good start, though.” He was talking aloud, not conscious of what he was saying, finding{7} the effort necessary to pronounce the words a relief to his pent-up emotions.

Ahead were the rocks, black and forbidding, out of keeping with the placidness of the rest of the scene—a strange contrast to the gentle sloping prairie. At some time in the formation of the earth this portion was fated to retain the characteristics of the early terrain while the surrounding landscape was calmed by some giant hand. Silhouetted bluntly against the sky, the rocks were the bane of cattlemen who had to skirt them in a wide path instead of following the river directly.

Their edges bordered on the water and in storms the river roared sullenly over their shiny backs. Frequently cows were found dead at their base, who, coming to drink, had slipped and been drawn into the turmoil.

“Pretty looking sight,” Roy muttered, glancing toward the black mass. “Just the place a crazy horse would head for. Yep—there he goes!”

The runaway had reached the first of the rocks, and, without stopping a moment, sprang for the lower ledge. Roy fancied he heard the hoofs scrape as the steed pulled himself up.

“We’ve got to do that pretty soon,” the boy said. No thought of abandoning the chase came to him. “Get out the old ground-grippers, Star.{8}”

He came to the ledge, and pulled upward on the reins. With a little whinny Star tensed his muscles and sprang. The ledge was on a level with his chest, but it is one thing to clear a barrier, another to mount it. For a moment it seemed as if the horse and rider must slip back, but, with a supreme effort, the pony forced himself up and stood trembling on the rocky shelf.

“That’s the first of them,” the boy breathed. “Watch it, Star! Take it easy. We can’t rush this.”

As a mountain climber tests the ice before trusting his weight to it, Star touched each bit of rock before placing his hoof on it. Sharp corners and jagged points of rock surrounded them. A misstep would mean a painful, if not fatal, injury.

“And we’re not at the worst part yet,” the boy murmured. “Wait till we reach the edge. Where in thunder is that horse? If he—”

A sound came to his ears, a sound of breaking rock. He waited, and heard a splash.

“Missed that one. He’s not far off, at any rate. All right, Star—up we go!”

He hoped the runaway was standing still, perhaps frightened by the stone his feet had dislodged and sent into the river. He should come into sight soon.

The river roared louder with each step Star{9} took, and the boy knew they were approaching the edge, with a sheer drop to the water below. Higher and higher Star mounted, and at last stood with his forefeet braced against a stone, his widened eyes staring into the depths. They had reached the edge.

Not fifty feet from them was the runaway bronco, his head moving from side to side in bewildered fright, his whole body trembling violently.

Roy whistled softly.

“That way, Star,” he whispered. “Easy, now! Just a little more—”

His hand was on his rope that hung from the saddlehorn. If he could ring the bronc, the rest would be easy, for the pony was much too frightened to resist. He could lead the animal down safely.

Pulling the reins ever so slightly, Roy brought Star to a halt. He was near enough to throw. Carefully he poised the lariat. His knees gripped Star’s side.

The rope whistled overhead, straightened out like a snake. True was the throw, and truly the noose landed, full over the pony’s neck.

Then, from below, came a yell of exultation.

“Atta baby, Roy! Great stuff! I knew you’d make it! I waited until—”

The pony, with the rope about his neck,{10} jerked as though he had been stung with fire. A shrill cry, almost human, burst from him. He leaped forward.

“Roy! Roy! Cut loose! Don’t let him—Oh-h-h!”

It was too late. Star, trying vainly to keep his balance, toppled outward, and Roy, in full view of Teddy, hurtled toward the river that hissed over the waiting rocks below!{11}

CHAPTER II Out of the Depths

The thoughts that flashed through Teddy Mauley’s brain as he stood below watching that terrible fall will never be known. If he had not called out, the runaway would not have jumped and dislodged Roy. He, Teddy, was responsible. If Roy was killed—

To say that a man’s life whirls through his mind a moment before death is to state that which has been said many times. It may be that his senses are sharpened to such an extent that he can appreciate things in one second that otherwise would take him many minutes to think of. But here Teddy stood at the base of the mass of rocks. He was in no personal danger. Flash, his horse, was close beside him, his head tilted to one side, his eyes regarding his master calmly.

In that tiny space of time, while Roy, hands outstretched, was dropping toward the river, there came to Teddy in a swift panorama the events of the last hour—Nell Willis thrown from her pony; Teddy taking up the chase; his{12} capture of the bronco; the realization that Roy, and not he, was the logical one to take the horse back; the wait for his brother and the driving back of the runaway so that Roy would see him and take him to Nell; then following Roy to this place, watching him mount the rocks and rope the pony; and finally, the cry that Teddy could not hold in check—the cry that sent Roy to—

A terrible wave of intense suffering passed through Teddy, shaking him from head to foot. His brother! Roy!

There was one little ray of hope, and even before Roy struck the water, Teddy seized on it fiercely. Seven feet from the base of the rocks the water had hollowed out a deep pool. Not more than five feet across and about ten feet long—then the rocks again. If Roy hit this, he had a chance. If!

With eyes that burned, Teddy watched his brother’s descent. He was out from the cliff, far enough out perhaps to reach the deep pool. “Let him be saved, Lord! Give him a chance!”

Then, with horrible suddenness, boy and horse struck. High in the air rose the white spray. Through it Teddy could see a dark form and he heard the shrill scream of the pony; a cry once heard never forgotten.

As a man is awakened from a trance, the{13} sound shocked Teddy into action. He flung himself into the saddle. His hand flailed the bronco’s side. Flash, hunching his hind legs, sprang forward.

“Down to him, Flash! Down to him! We’ve got to—”

The horse understood. Oblivious of his own safety, he plunged headlong toward the rocky beach and toward the boy and horse struggling in the water. Teddy, in a passing moment, knew that the runaway had, after all, remained safely on the ledge above.

As the boy neared the spot, he saw with a heartfelt prayer of thankfulness that Roy had cleared the rocks and had fallen into the deeper part of the river.

Even before Flash had reached the water’s edge, Teddy had his rope in readiness. If Roy were conscious, he could grab the end and be pulled ashore. If not—

Then Teddy saw his brother. The rushing waters calmed for a moment and disclosed Roy, his hand still clutching the bridle of his pony, lying inertly on the surface of the pool, kept afloat by that grip alone. His face was upward, a red streak showing across the forehead.

Teddy uttered not a word. His lips were bloodless and pressed tightly together. He slid swiftly from the saddle.{14}

Without a single waste motion he uncoiled his rope and tied the loose end of it about his waist. The other was fastened to the saddlehorn. Between the shore and Roy was a fierce current, and it was into this that Teddy threw himself. Flash, his neck craned forward, stood like a rock a little distance from the turbulent stream.

Everything was fighting Teddy—the stream, the rope about his waist, and a growing sense of panic, a fear that when he reached his brother it would be too late. But he kept on, scarcely daring to hope, swimming with a fierce determination to see it through. Now he could hear the breathing of Star. Now he saw the drawn, grey face of his brother. Now he could reach him!

The current released its clinging swirls from his body, and Teddy floated in the comparative stillness of the pool. His arm encircled Roy’s shoulders. For one long moment he gazed into the face of him who had been always at his side, who had shared every danger with him—his brother.

“Roy!”

The pallid lips moved. The eyes opened.

“Teddy, old boy—all right, Teddy—let’s get—”

A great sob forced the breath from Teddy’s lungs.{15}

“Roy! Thank God! Oh, Roy, I was afraid—”

“Not this time, old boy! Still kicking. Only I feel—funny.”

“Now, Roy, let go the bridle. That’s it! All right, kid. Here we go. Don’t move. I have you. Don’t shake your head. Easy, kid—easy! Let yourself slide. A-a-a-atta baby! Here we go, now. Star’s all right. He’s just watching you, that’s all. I have you, kid. Easy, big feller—just a little—”

They were out into the stream. Holding his brother with one hand, Teddy pulled on the rope with the other. Flash braced his feet and stood firm. The current drew them down hungrily, but Teddy fought toward the shore. Closer, closer—he felt the rocks under his feet—and then Roy was laid gently on the ground and Teddy was bending over him, the tears coursing unashamed down his cheeks. Roy was safe.

It might be wise for the moment to leave these two alone. We won’t hear the first words that Roy said to Teddy, nor shall we hear Teddy’s answer. We sha’n’t watch Teddy’s hand meet his brother’s in a firm grip, nor shall we see the look that passed between the boys. It is better to leave the curtain drawn.

We may, instead, say something of these two{16} who have just gone through such a vivid experience. Teddy, one year younger than his brother, was in his sixteenth year. His life had been spent mainly on the plains, as had Roy’s. Their father, Bardwell Manley, was the owner of a large cattle ranch, the X Bar X, and when he took his sons out of school to help him with the management of it, they were anything but sorry. They were born to the life of the cattle rancher and loved it. On the plains they were receiving a better education than many who attend college.

In the first book of the series, “The X Bar X Boys on the Ranch,” it is told how Teddy and Roy Manley captured a band of cattle rustlers after many trials and adventures. The friends they made in those hazardous days stayed with them through other exciting times, and, in the book just preceding this, called “The X Bar X Boys at the Round-Up,” they reached the peak of every cattleman’s desire—first prizes at the rodeo. At the same time they saved their father from some cattle swindlers, and succeeded in establishing themselves more strongly than ever in the hearts of the cowboys at the X Bar X.

Their two friends, Nell Willis and Ethel Carew—officially friends of their sister, Belle Ada—shared in many of their adventures. It was while visiting the girls at the 8 X 8 that{17} the runaway, with the consequent disaster, took place as has been set down.

Now we might steal a quick look at the two boys, who stood on the banks of Rocky Run River. Star had been rescued—Teddy roped him from the shore, and Flash drew him from the water. Miraculously, he was unhurt except for a few minor cuts and scratches. He trembled until Roy, weak, but standing upright, placed his hand on the pony’s neck.

“Needs some liniment,” Roy said, and laughed a little. After that one pregnant moment when Roy was brought to the shore the boys studiously avoided any mention of the incident, so close to tragedy, or of the rescue.

“Reckon he thinks it’s Saturday,” Teddy replied, laughing himself, albeit somewhat shakily. “Snakes, I’m wet! Good thing my skin doesn’t leak.”

“I’ll tell a maverick,” Roy chuckled. “Take you to think up that one. Now then! Yep, she’s stopped bleeding.” He put his hand to his head. “Glad of it—I don’t want to take the pony back to Nell looking like the Spirit of ’76. Say, by the way—”

“Take a look,” Teddy interrupted. He motioned with his hand, and Roy turned.