THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UP

BY JAMES CODY FERRIS

Author of “The X Bar X Boys on the Ranch,” “The X Bar X Boys on Big Bison Trail,” etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY Walter S. Rogers

NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

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

(OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION)

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

Copyright, 1927, by GROSSET & DUNLAP

All Rights Reserved The X Bar X Boys at the Round-Up

CHAPTER I

The Pack

Pulling his pony to a sudden stop, the rider gazed intently at a cloud of dust sweeping over the horizon. His companion, a slightly younger lad, with facial characteristics so similar that anyone would have instantly labeled these two as brothers, reined in his own mount and likewise stared at the dust cloud.

“Coming?” he asked, more to himself than to his brother.

“Going,” the other answered decidedly. “And he’s not waiting to count his money, either. I’d like to get a look at that hombre, Teddy.”

“For reasons of your own, I guess,” Teddy Manley responded. Then he laughed. “And to what may we attribute this sudden curiosity, Roy?”

“You know as well as I do,” Roy Manley answered shortly. “Just about this time each year I get a craving to know every man who rides as close to our cattle as that—and you should, too. With round-up so near, this is no time for fooling.”

“As the African said when the lion sneezed in his face.” Teddy watched the dust disappear as the distant rider sank down behind a hill. Then he turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over the panorama of the brown, sun-drenched mountains, walling in the uneven plains like a gigantic picture frame. “Maybe he’s just viewing the beauties of nature,” the boy said, and urged his horse forward again.

“Or on his way to Sunday-school on Monday,” Roy responded disdainfully. “If he’s interested in scenery, what does he ride like that for? He was sure burning up the ground.”

“Oh, well, I give up,” Teddy declared impatiently. “Give that active mind of yours a rest, will you? Let’s get on the job again. Golly, there’s another break! Have the animals around here taken to eating wire?”

Sliding off his horse and trailing the reins over the animal’s head, Teddy Manley drew a pair of pliers from his pocket and walked toward the fence. His brother, grumbling to himself, followed. Riding fence was not easy work, this late in the year. Somehow, there seemed more labor to be done in the fall than at any other time. They had repaired six breaks in the last mile.

“Bring some of that extra wire,” Teddy called, fingering the top strand of the fence, which dangled loosely. “This will never reach.” He looked at the break thoughtfully, as though wondering how it had occurred. But what he said was: “See if my gloves are hanging on my saddle, will you? My hands are cut now from this stuff.”

“Here’s the wire,” Roy declared, holding out a coil. “And your gloves are in your back pocket. I’ll anchor this end while you splice. Say, this looks as though it had been cut!” He seized the wire excitedly and stared at it. “Look how clean this break is, Teddy!”

“Yea, and look how rusty the other end is, too,” Teddy said sarcastically. “I just wiped this piece off with my hand. Here—pull hard now, and we’ll get this together.”

Grunting and straining, Teddy succeeded in forcing the two loose strands together and fastening them securely. When the task was finished he mopped the sweat from his face and the two boys remounted.

“Your turn to take the next break,” Teddy asserted, as they rode on. “Hope it’s a good one.”

“There won’t be any next,” Roy answered. “We’ll have to ride in now and let someone else start from here to-morrow. We’re supposed to be at the ranch this evening to talk to those two birds from Iowa—the Lefton brothers. Me, I don’t like ’em! But dad seems to think that they’ll take at least twelve hundred head, so we’ll have to dicker with ’em, I guess. Hope we get a good price.”

“Why don’t you like ’em?” Teddy asked curiously. Roy glanced over at his brother in surprise.

“Teddy, that’s the first remark of mine to-day that you’ve taken seriously! So you, too, think there’s something funny about them, do you?”

“I didn’t say so,” Teddy responded.

“You don’t have to say so. Well, spill it! What do you know about ’em?”

“Nothing much,” Teddy answered evasively. “Only they sure asked Nick a lot of queer questions.”

“Did they?” Roy looked eagerly at his brother. “What sort of questions? About cattle?”

“Yes, about cattle—our cattle. Nick said that both of them cornered him down by the bunkhouse, offered him cigarettes, and tried to pump him. Nick told ’em that we had fifty head of shorthorns that were being shipped to the King of Siam, in trade for a herd of elephants. He said that we were going to start an elephant farm out here and grow ivory for our own pool balls.”

“He did? What did they say then?”

“Nothing. Guess they looked at him as if they wondered whether he was crazy, and wandered off. I heard next they got Gus Tripp, and asked him a lot of questions, too.”

“Mighty inquisitive pair of boys,” Roy commented dryly. “Must want to know all about the cattle they buy. Well, you can’t exactly blame them for that, I suppose.”

“They weren’t asking about the kind of cattle they were, but where we grazed ’em. How many head here, how many there, and so forth.”

“You don’t say! Nick tell you that?”

“Gus did. But he didn’t give them any satisfaction. Gus is too wise for that.”

Roy, his tall body straight in the saddle, his head held rigid, remained silent. After a moment Teddy glanced at him and grinned.

“Six times six is thirty-six and six is forty-two! Come out of it!”

“I was just thinking,” Roy said deliberately, “of the Lefton brothers.”

“You don’t tell me! Why, I thought you were trying to do mental arithmetic. So you were thinking of the Lefton boys! Well, well! Now what could have been the cause of that, do you suppose?”

“I was wondering if they really intend to buy cattle,” Roy went on, refusing to reply to Teddy’s sarcasm. “They’ve been hanging around two days now, and never once made an offer. To me, that seems mighty funny. Of course, you, with your superior brain, may think of it differently.”

“Yes, it does look a little like rain, if that’s what you said. Well, to tell the truth, my lad, I had an idea all along that they were a couple of four-flushers. That younger one—Jerry, his name is—talks too loud and too freely. Besides being loquacious, he says too much. And the other—Bill—has a wart on his nose. I don’t like people with a wart on their nose—noses, I mean, maybe warts.”

“We can’t afford to let a customer go because he has a wart on his nose. If they meet our price, we’ll give ’em the dogies, irrespective of what they look like. Tell that cayuse his supper’s waiting for him, will you? We want to get home before dark, you know.”

Checking the reply that rose to his lips, Teddy Manley clucked to Flash, and the bronco lengthened his stride. The brothers were riding on the edge of a shallow gully that dipped down just the other side of the fence. Far to their left the cattle were grazing, content to keep to their own territory and not investigate these two riders. A quarter of a mile farther on, the boys came to a gate in the fence, and went through into the gully. For some distance they followed the ravine, then cut sharp left, and headed home. By riding through the gully they had avoided a steep hill which lay just within the fence.

The day was drawing to a close. The few clouds in the deep blue sky had gathered on the horizon, like white sheep flocking to the fold. The orange and yellow colors of early sunset were already streaking the heavens. A bird, flying low, left a streamer of purling song behind him.

The landscape was dotted with water-holes, some of them dried up from the long summer sun, others containing only moisture enough to cover the bottom. As the boys rode on, Bitter Cliff lookout came into view, and then it was only a half hour to the X Bar X Ranch.

“Well, whoever does get our stock will get one fine bunch,” Roy said suddenly, breaking the silence. “We’ve never had a finer lot. Healthy, every one of ’em.”

“Be a tough break to lose any of ’em now, wouldn’t it?” Teddy remarked absently. “All the summer’s work gone for nothing.”

“Why should we lose ’em?” Roy demanded sharply. “Think our men can’t handle a round-up? Bet we don’t miss a single cow!”

“Of course, there may be others interested in our cattle,” Teddy said mysteriously. “Like those two Lefton brothers. There are ways of acquiring cows other than buying them, you know. In case—snakes! Did you see that prairie dog?”

He pointed to a brown streak that was heading for a clump of bushes. The next moment it was out of sight.

“Prairie dog!” exclaimed Roy. “If that was a prairie dog I’m a grasshopper! Haven’t you ever seen a wolf before?”

“Wolf? You mean a wolverine?”

“I mean a wolf! A full grown one, too! I got a good look at him just before he entered that mesquite. Let’s go get him—he’ll kill a cow, sure, if he gets away!”

Teddy nodded, and touched his heels to the pony’s sides. As they raced over the prairie both boys drew their revolvers and held them in readiness.

“You take the left, I’ll circle around!” Roy panted. “Make sure you don’t miss him. Once he gets very deep into the brush, he’s gone for good!”

Swiftly the riders dashed toward the brush wherein the animal had disappeared. Wolves were most uncommon on the ranges of this country. This one had probably been driven down by hunger from the mountains.

“The one who shoots him gets the pelt!” Teddy yelled. “Let’s go!”

The two brothers swung apart. About three hundred yards from the mesquite stood a group of quakermasts, and they wanted to cut the animal off from this protection. Even as they neared the brush, however, they saw the wolf dart toward the trees.

Crack! Teddy’s gun spoke, and a spurt of dust arose behind the running animal.

Roy fired. The beast faltered, and dropped to his haunches. From his throat came a peculiar wailing cry.

“You got him!” Teddy shouted. “He’s—” The sentence was never completed. As if in answer to a call, another wolf leaped from the grove of quakermasts. Then another, and another—almost tumbling over each other in their efforts to reach their fallen comrade, a full pack of snarling, yelping, savage wolves!

The horses, squealing in terror, planted their forefeet in the turf and came to a back-jerking stop. Wildly they swung about, their riders unable to control them in the face of this charging death.

“Don’t shoot—no time—get away!” Teddy yelled. “There’s hundreds of ’em—”

Glancing swiftly around, Roy saw that this was scarcely an exaggeration. The pack seemed to increase every second. As they reached the wounded beast, a few stopped, but the rest came on. Foam was dripping from their jaws in huge flakes.

“They’re mad—crazy with hunger!” Roy gasped. “They’re starved! If they catch us—”

He bent low over Star’s back. There was but one thing to do—ride, and put their faith in their broncos. In the steel-like muscles of Star and Flash lay the boys’ only hope of safety.

CHAPTER II

Rescue

With necks outstretched, flesh quivering, and eyes white from fear, the ponies flashed across the prairie. Direction was forgotten in the mad rush to escape those dripping fangs now so close.

The ground was uneven, treacherous, and each rider knew that a single misstep would send his horse crashing to earth, the only hope, then, being that the fall, and not the teeth of the ravenous animals, would bring death.

Desperately the boys sought to guide their mounts so as to avoid the frequent badger holes. In a single moment, it seemed, they had left the group of quakermasts behind, and were mounting the side of a small hill.

The broncos were racing side by side, not ten feet apart. After the first hot wave of panic, that minute they had come face to face with what had seemed certain destruction, Teddy and Roy quickly regained control of themselves. The paralyzing shock of fear passed, and left a cool, clear mind, which seemed to register impressions more vividly than ever before. Each rider knew just what he was to do if he hoped to escape alive. It was as though a huge screen were before them, with the words: “Over this hill—swing left—turn—and shoot.” Neither boy said a word to the other, yet almost as one rider they mounted the incline and bore to the left. Then Teddy yelled:

“Now! We’ve gained a little, Roy. You take that big gray hunky. I’ll get the next one—”

Reverberating from the closeness of the hills, the guns roared their challenge. The gray wolf, that appeared to be the leader, whirled about in a circle, snapped at his side, fell, and lay still.

“There’s one down!” Roy shouted, gripping with his knees the sides of the bobbing pony and raising his revolver for another shot. “That may stop ’em!”

The pack, seeing their leader down, hesitated for a moment. Then with the vicious savageness of their breed, they fell upon him.

“Wolf—eat—wolf!” Teddy panted hoarsely. “We’ve got a chance, Roy! A chance!”

Useless it was to dig frantic heels into the ponies’ ribs. They were expending every ounce of energy they possessed, seeking to lose those horrible yappings. Farther and farther away from that surging mass of bodies they coursed, the wind carrying snarls that drove the frightened horses ever onward. For a moment Roy had a vision of a mangled shape in the midst of digging, prying claws and eager teeth, and the boy grew sick with the thought, feeling that perhaps Teddy or himself might be lying there not motionless, but turning and twisting in obedience to a tug here, a pull there!

“Steady, Flash, steady,” Teddy was breathing, the reins tight as iron bands in his hand. “We’re all right now, old boy.”

“We can’t keep this pace up!” Roy called tensely. “We’ll kill the broncs! Pull him up, Teddy!”

Leaning forward, Roy grasped Star’s neck muscles, just below the mane. He talked in a low tone, as evenly as he could, keeping the trembling gasps out of his voice. Behind them the fierce yelps were growing fainter. Gradually the horses took on a calmer, more controlled gallop. Flash snorted noisily.

“All right—I guess,” Roy said doubtfully. He exhaled his breath in a peculiar whistle. Star shook his head and whinnied.

“Easy, easy,” Roy soothed. “Save it, bronc. Teddy, keep your gun out. That pack won’t stay put very long. They’ll come again. We’ve got to head for home as quickly as we can. No time to waste.”

Teddy nodded silently. He, too, realized that the danger was not yet over. But the horses were rapidly recovering their strength, and the boys knew they would be able to respond with another dash when the time came. These riders understood their mounts thoroughly—understood, and loved them.

When a man and a horse are together through long hours of loneliness on the wide plains of the West, when they ride into and out of perils of all sorts, there springs up between them a strange bond, which seems to have something in it other than mere friendship.

So it was with Teddy and Flash, and Roy and Star. Ever since that day they had lost them, when the horses had been stolen from the hitching rail at Eagles, and the boys had risked their lives more than once to recover them, the broncos had come to mean more than mere saddle horses. The story of how they finally caught the horse thieves who had stolen the ponies, and in doing so rid the range of a desperate gang of rustlers, is told in the first book of this series, called “The X Bar X Boys on the Ranch.”

These exciting adventures were followed by many others, when Teddy and Roy searched the mysterious Thunder Canyon for Belle Ada, their sister, and her two friends, who had been kidnapped. Then came a hazardous journey down Whirlpool River, to recover some cattle that had been rustled by Denver Smith and his gang. In the book, just before the present volume, “The X Bar X Boys on Big Bison Trail,” the tale is related of a moving picture company on location and of the part Teddy and Roy played in its affairs. How they aided their cowboy friend, Nick Looker, to recover a legacy left by his uncle, is also told.

Throughout all these experiences the two Manley boys had, as their constant companions, Flash and Star. Many times the horses had been the means of saving the lives of their masters. Thus Teddy and Roy came to know them as few masters know their horses—to know their weaknesses, their strength. And both boys realized that, at this moment, should they be compelled to drive them forward before the wolves, they would again answer as they had before.

Teddy saw that Roy, who was leading, had swerved to the right and was listening intently, his hand cupping his ear.

“They’re still making plenty of noise back there,” Teddy called, but Roy shook his head.

“It’s a different sort of noise. We’ve got to swing pretty wide. They’re on the run again. Listen! Notice that new note?”

Truly there did seem to be a change in the yapping sounds the wolves were making. The boys were on the other side of the hill now, out of sight of the animals, but every moment they expected to see the pack appear over the crest. Teddy rapidly replaced with cartridges the shells that had been exploded, and seized his weapon more firmly.

“It would be worse than useless to face that pack,” he said with a slight shudder. “Where in thunder could they have come from? There hasn’t been a wolf in these parts for years.”

“We’ll talk that over later,” Roy answered shortly. “The thing to do now is to get out of their way. Let’s make time.”

Their shadows had lengthened into long, dark blots as the two boys threw their mounts into a gallop. They rode diagonally away from the pack, gradually edging toward the X Bar X. Night must not overtake them here on the range, while the frenzied beasts were still close upon them. Their best chance lay not in out-distancing them, but in throwing them off their track.

“Stick to this trail,” Roy said. “We’re getting nearer home each minute. Golly, I think we’ve beaten them! Listen! Aren’t they farther away?”

Shrewdly realizing that often one hears that which he hopes to hear, Teddy would not admit that the danger was past. The cries of the wolf pack could still be plainly heard, and there was no means of telling whether they were coming toward the boys or running at right angles to them. It was not necessary for the animals to see the riders to follow them. Both Roy and Teddy knew that a wolf can track a man by the scent, as a dog does, and unless something occurred to shift the attention of the pack they might chase the boys to the very yard of the ranch.

“Provided we can last that long,” Teddy said grimly, finishing his thought aloud. “We may not have a chance to slow ’em up again. Snakes, they sound like a convention!”

“I’ll tell a maverick they do! Well, we can keep going only so far, and then—” Roy dropped his hand to the butt of his gun, which he had replaced in its holster. “We’ll have it out with ’em, I guess. We can never hope to keep this pace up till we reach home.”