THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCH

DOWN TOWARD THE ROAD SWEPT THE RIDERS.

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 ON THE RANCH CHAPTER ITHE ROAD TO EAGLES

Two boys loped along the winding, dusty road on the way to Eagles. One of them, astride a white-faced mustang, was leading a third horse, a bay, which, though riderless, was saddled and bridled. The day was hot; the road steep and tortuous; and the riderless horse, with head held low, was doing his best to retard the procession.

Taking a firmer hold of the leading rein, the boy gave it a jerk forward.

“Come up here, General!â€� he cried. “Where do you think you’re going—to a funeral? Pretty near train time and we still have a good stretch ahead of us!â€�

His companion, a slightly older youth, riding a brown pony, turned in his saddle.

“Is he holding back on you, Teddy? Those Spanish bridles make awfully poor leading. I think he’s got a sore mouth. And, if he has, dad’ll find it out quick!â€�

“Boy, don’t I know it! Why,â€� Teddy Manley added with a chuckling laugh, “I bet dad could tell if General didn’t sleep well the night before. He sure is crazy over this horse!â€�

“I’ll tell a maverick he is!â€� cried Roy Manley. “Last thing he told me before he left was to be sure to bring General in to meet him. But as far as liking goes, you don’t exactly hate that Flash of yours, I notice.â€�

The other boy grinned and patted the side of his bronco.

“Well,â€� he admitted, “I’m not saying much, but you have no right to talk about falling in love with a horse. The way you treat Star would make any one think he was made of cut glass! All the while it’s easy now, Star, you might hurt yourself! Is that cinch-strap too tight, Star? Here, let me brush that fly off your ear!’ Huh! Do you tuck him in bed and kiss him good-night, Roy?â€�

Roy Manley refused the bait.

“I remember,â€� he said calmly, wiping the sweat from his upper lip and leaving in its stead a streak of black dust, “when you first got Flash. Dad gave him to you for your birthday. You were just a little shaver then—â€�

“Aw, donkey-dust! Who do you think you are—Methuselah? Just because you’re a year older—â€�

“You were just a little shaver then,â€� Roy went on imperturbably, “and maybe you didn’t know what you were doing. You simply went into ecstasy. Get that—ecstasy? Sixty-cent word. Yep, you jumped up and down with glee, I’ll tell a maverick!â€�

“Well, if I jumped up and down with glee, you, by golly, stood on your head when dad gave you Star! Now laugh that off!â€�

“We won’t argue about it,â€� Roy replied, with assumed dignity. “Baby, this road is sure some dusty! Wind’s right at our backs, too. If I took a drink of water now I’d turn into a mud-pie. Hey, Teddy, think you can coax that cayuse you’re riding into something more than a trickle? Maybe he’ll run, if you talk to him real nice.â€�

Teddy Manley did not reply, but clucked softly to his mount. Flash responded with a leap that caused General, the bay that Teddy was leading, to toss his head in protest.

“You’d better be careful,â€� Roy cautioned. “There’s only one man who can boss General, and that’s dad. If the bay takes it into his head to stop, he’ll stop, and neither one of us will be able to budge him. Then dad’s train will pull in, and he’ll expect to find General at the station waiting for him. And where’ll we be?â€�

“Down in the cellar eating spinach,â€� Teddy answered, with a grin. “Flash, here, won’t let General balk on us! will you, old boy?â€� and Teddy leaned forward and rubbed the horse’s nose. Flash nuzzled his master’s hand affectionately.

“Why don’t you let up on that mush?â€� Roy asked in a disgusted tone. “Go on, whisper pretty nothings in his ear! Talk about me and Star! Why, when Gilly Froud—â€�

Eyes blazing, Teddy turned swiftly on his brother.

“Don’t mention that cur’s name to me,â€� he said thickly. “You know what he did to Flash? He kicked him, that’s what he did! Kicked him! And if dad hadn’t stopped me, I’d have—I’d have—â€�

“Cool off, cool off,â€� Roy advised soothingly. “I don’t like Froud any more than you do. You know that. Anyway, dad threw him off the ranch, so let’s forget him. Come on, step on it. Dad’s train is due soon.â€�

Breathing heavily at the memory of Froud’s mistreatment of Flash, Teddy pulled General’s leading rein and urged his own mount to a faster pace.

This Gilly Froud had been a hand on the X Bar X ranch, which was owned by Mr. Manley, the father of Roy and Teddy. One day the ranch owner had caught Froud abusing Flash. Teddy had come around the corner of the bunkhouse at the same instant, and took in the scene at a glance. White to the lips, the boy started for Froud. Mr. Manley took one look at his son’s face, and, springing forward, seized Teddy by the shoulders. Flash—Teddy’s Flash—had been kicked, and Teddy had seen it. Mr. Manley tightened his grip on his son’s shoulders. There was not going to be that sort of fight on his ranch if he could prevent it.

Teddy had come to his senses quickly, and Mr. Manley released him. Then he turned and looked at Froud, whose face was sickly pale underneath his tan. After this occurrence, Froud went away from that ranch in something of a hurry.

As Teddy recalled the incident, his fist clenched and he unconsciously drew up on Flash’s rein. The horse snorted and shook his head, as though he knew what was passing through his master’s mind.

“Always did hate a man who mistreated a horse,â€� Teddy murmured. “Sure to be something else the matter with him. No decent fellow would kick a pony.â€�

“Still thinking about Gilly Froud?â€� Roy asked. “Come on, snap out of it! Lots of nicer things to think about. For instance, that wrist watch you bought at school. Baby, wait till Nick Looker finds out you own a wrist watch! Maybe he won’t ride you a little!â€�

Teddy grinned in reply, and pushed his sombrero back from his forehead. It was certainly a hot day.

The two Manley brothers, Teddy, aged fifteen, and Roy, one year older, were at home, for a long time, they hoped, if not for good, from the Hopper Boarding School, an institution just outside of Denver. Teddy had the golden hair and blue eyes of his mother, Barbara Manley, “the blonde angel of the West,â€� her husband often jokingly called her. But the laugh that always went with this remark deceived no one—least of all the boys. They caught the note of love in their father’s voice, and it found an echo in their own hearts.

“Jinks! She is an angel!â€�

Roy, the taller of the two, had hair as brown as the hills around him, and eyes but a trifle lighter in hue. He it was who had inherited from his mother a fondness for literature, and, though this last was carefully concealed, a liking for poetry.

Barbara Manley, before her marriage, had been a teacher of English in a Denver school, and until she had met Bardwell Manley, poetry had been her only sweetheart. Her eyes would shine with maternal pride when she observed Roy reading a â€œbook of silly verses,â€� as Teddy called it.

Yet Roy was a real boy. More, he was a real Western boy, which is saying a great deal. He was one of the best shots on the X Bar X ranch, and although Teddy had a slight edge on him when it came to riding, Roy could â€œforkâ€� an unbroken bronco almost as well as any man on the ranch. In build the boys were much alike—lean, wiry products of range life.

Their father, Bardwell Manley, owned the X Bar X, a cattle ranch some thirty hours’ ride “on the carsâ€� west from Chicago on Rocky Run River, a small stream. This ranch had been in the Manley family since Temple Manley, the boys’ grandfather, now several years dead, had settled there in 1868.

Roy and Teddy, together with their sister, Belle Ada, a girl now twelve years old, had, of course, lived much of their lives on the X Bar X. But as soon as they became old enough Mrs. Manley had insisted that the two brothers go away to study in Denver, and the last three winters Roy and Teddy had spent at the Hopper Academy.

Although their school days were happy enough, both boys were always eager for summer to come, bringing with it vacation time, which meant the ranch, with Flash and Star to gallop about on over many a winding trail. Roy and Teddy had the real cowboy’s love for a good pony and the wind-swept range. Though they did as well as most boys at their studies and Roy rather better than the average, they were both eager for the time to come when they could leave school and follow in the footsteps of their father.

It was now the third week since school had closed, and today the boys were riding to Eagles, a railroad station twelve miles from the X Bar X, to meet Mr. Manley, who had stipulated that they must bring his own special mount, General, for him to ride back. Of course they could have made the trip in an auto, but Mr. Manley always said he preferred “hoss flesh to flivvers.â€�

“Shucks! I don’t see the use of having an auto trail to Eagles when dad rides General all the time,â€� Teddy half grumbled as he sank his chin deeper into his neckerchief. “This is too blame dusty!â€�

In the memory of some at the X Bar X, there had been a time when this road, winding up the mountain, had been just a trail, hardly wide enough for two horses abreast. But the auto had since invaded the West, and had widened the path into a dusty highway. In the opinion of Roy and Teddy Manley, it was a change for the worse.

“Stop beefing,â€� challenged Roy, grinning. “Here! Take a look at that and be thankful you’re allowed to live in the country!â€�

The two boys had come to a turn in the road almost at the top of the mountain. The horses stood, champing their bits, on a small plateau. The road wound itself about the elevation on either side, stretching out like a long, brown ribbon. To the left, where the highway made its sharpest curve, was a small slope, and beyond this the mountain seemed to have been shorn off with a giant axe, making a sheer drop of some three hundred feet.

Often and often the boys traveled this road, yet each time they reached Bitter Cliff, as it was called, and looked off over that vast stretch of country, they halted, fascinated anew by the beauty of the scene before them.

Down below, the whole range was spread out in a clear-cut panorama. Far in the rear rose the ranch buildings of X Bar X; the mess-house, where Sing Lung, the cook, invented the sometimes strange but always very palatable combinations of food; the high-fenced corral, now almost empty, for the cattle were out on the grazing ground; the ranch house—the home of Roy and Teddy; the â€œbronco-peeler’sâ€� bunkhouse; and the Rocky Run River, like a streak of dull silver, flowing placidly through a border of cottonwoods and willows about half a mile from the ranch house.

To the west, like another section of some great map, lay 8 X 8 ranch, owned by Peter Ball, an old friend and neighbor of Bardwell Manley.

“She’s sure some view!â€� exclaimed Teddy, with a long, indrawn sigh of peace and satisfaction. “Some view! Just as good as that picture of the Great Open Spaces we’ve got hanging up in the school auditorium.â€�

“Huh! Comparing this to a picture!â€� Roy snorted. “Why, man, this is real! As good as a picture! Huh!â€�

“All right! All right!â€� Teddy said easily. “Then it isn’t! You can’t get me sore,â€� he smiled amiably.

“What isn’t?â€� demanded his brother. “You mean to tell me you’d speak of a picture in our school auditorium in the same breath with—with—â€� and Roy flung out his arm in a mute and helpless gesture of finality.

“All right, I said! Go easy with that arm of yours! You made General jump then! But look! Isn’t the air clear? You can almost count the horses down at 8 X 8!â€�

“So you can. Well, we’d better be on our way. Dad won’t want to be kept waiting. He’ll be anxious to climb aboard General again, after a week of walking and flivvers in the city.â€�

“My boy, that’s just what I’ve been thinking. You show remarkable powers of perception. As soon as you can wake up that cayuse of yours, we’ll be moving.â€�

CHAPTER IIA DISHEARTENING LOSS

Clucking to their horses, the Manley boys proceeded toward Eagles. The road led downward now, and the going was easier.

“Speaking of the 8 X 8, did you hear what happened there?â€� Teddy asked, as he pulled gently on General’s leading rein.

“Yep! Twenty head of short-horn Durhams stolen; wasn’t it? Pete ought to put better men to riding his cattle.â€�

“Now, I don’t know,â€� Teddy replied slowly. “They’ve got some good punchers over on the 8 X 8. Way I figure it, those rustlers are mighty clever. They ride into a herd at night, cut out as many head as they can handle, and drive ’em away before the riders can get to them. But, by jinks, they’d better not try to get away with any of the X Bar X cattle! They’ll have one sweet fight on their hands if they do;â€� Teddy looked down at the side of his saddle where the insignia X—X, burned in the leather, could be plainly seen. The X Bar X was proud of its mark. It stood for many years of upright, square dealing.

Pop Burns, the oldest hand on the X Bar X ranch, claimed that he had â€œinventedâ€� the brand for Temple Manley, the grandfather of Roy and Teddy. Pop was inordinately boastful of this distinction, which he had conferred on himself, and he never tired of telling newcomers how he had happened to hit on the device of the â€œtwo sawbucks with a piece of rail fence in between,â€� as he sometimes described it. So vain was he of the mark that he placed it on everything brandable—saddles, bridles, wagons, the autos, and all. Jim Casey claimed he had even caught Pop marking Jim’s fancy vest with the X Bar X, but this the veteran denied.

“Yes, sir, there’ll certainly be something doing if those rustlers take any of our stuff,â€� Teddy went on. “Pop would be on their necks in a minute! I can just see the old geezer raving mad, and frothing around about: ‘Steal one of my brands, will ye? I’ll get ye fer that if it takes me ten years!’ Oh, baby!â€� and Teddy laughed.

“That’s right!â€� Roy remarked. “But, say, I hope dad’s train is late. If it isn’t, we’ll never make it! Come on, let’s hit it up!â€�

The boys urged the horses to a faster pace, and, somewhat winded, reached the station at Eagles in a cloud of dust, much of which clung to them and their mounts, where they slipped from the saddles with grunts of relief. They tied the three horses to a hitching rail not far from the station and concealed from the highway and the railroad office by a rough shack that served as freight and express depot.

“Yep, she’s late, all right,â€� announced Foley, the ticket agent, as the boys tramped into the station. “All of thirty minutes behind time. Your dad’s comin’ today, ain’t he? I see you got General out there. Spotted him when ye swung around to tie up. That road to your place must be some dusty, with the wind blowin’ up your back, hey?â€�

“I’ll tell a maverick it is!â€� agreed Roy, and then he and his brother, after a glance about the dingy waiting room, sauntered out to look over the town.

Perhaps “townâ€� would be dignifying Eagles beyond its merits. There was a main street, consisting of two restaurants, a post-office, six stores and the railroad station. A little way down the track was a large corral, used as a temporary retention place for dealers who sent their steers to this point to be shipped. Often there would be a delay of a day or more before sufficient cattle cars would arrive at Eagles.

It was the cattle that brought the station; the station brought the town, and the town brought all sorts of things, one of which was now leaning against the front of Rimor’s Place, hat pulled low over his face, smoke from an invisible cigarette drifting lazily about his head.

Rimor’s Place was one of the two restaurants, although as an eating house it failed to qualify. Yet its habitues were never heard to complain of the quality of its food. The â€œhard-stuffâ€� was good.

“There’s a tough-looking baby,â€� Teddy said in a low voice, nodding toward the figure of the man outside of Rimor’s. “Seems like his breakfast had soured on him.â€�

“It’s a rare bunch that hangs out at Duck Rimor’s,â€� Roy replied. “They ought to close that place. Slim Dery’s restaurant is enough for Eagles,â€� he declared emphatically.

A short time later the brothers again stood on the station platform, eagerly watching for the express from the city. It pulled in, and a tall, well set-up man of perhaps fifty-five alighted. He wore a heavy dark mustache, and beneath his broad sombrero his black hair was here and there tinged with gray. As his foot struck the platform he reached in his pocket, and by the time Roy and Teddy had greeted him, a corncob pipe reposed in the corner of his mouth.

“Hello there, Roy and Teddy! The two sons of the prairie come to meet their father, who has been far away in the land of the snicker-snackers! Greetings! Boys, I’ve got a surprise for you.â€�

“What is it, Dad?â€� Roy asked, grinning at his father.

“A whiffletree, hey, Dad?â€� Teddy inquired.

“No, not a whiffletree. Nor a wham-wicker either. Behold! Nell and Ethel, allow me to present my two dutiful sons, Roy and Teddy. Pardon me, Theodore! Boys, this is Nell Willis, and this Ethel Carew. They’re Peter Ball’s nieces.â€�

The boys now saw two young girls, of about their own age, who had just stepped from the train to the platform. Small hats were set over piquant faces; laughing eyes looked into those of Roy and Teddy. Somewhat in a daze, the boys acknowledged the introduction.

“Yes,â€� went on Mr. Manley, tamping the tobacco gently down into his pipe, “they’re Peter Ball’s nieces from New York, goin’ to visit the 8 X 8. Met ’em on the train. I used to know ’em a long time ago—â€� applying a match to the pipe—“but they wouldn’t remember me. I want ’em both to come over and see your sister, Belle Ada,â€� he explained to the boys. “Golly, it’s good to be back again!â€� Thereat, with a contented sigh, he blew out a huge cloud of fragrant smoke.

“Oh, we’d love to come!â€� one of the girls said, she whom Mr. Manley had introduced as Nell Willis. Then she looked at Roy. “You know, I’ve always wanted to come West. I think it’s so—so weird, don’t you?â€�