There was reason for alarm, Ned thought, when he made this discovery. The last he could remember seeing Jimmy was just at the time the second detachment of the cattle rustlers came bursting out from the coulie, with shouts and all the wild clamor cow punchers indulge in when driving stock.

At that time Jimmy seemed to have tamed down his calico pony enough to once more think of using his Marlin on the enemy; but strive as he might Ned could not remember having heard its suggestive “cough” to tell that Jimmy had actually pulled the trigger.

It must have been at that exciting moment, when everything was confused, and Ned had his attention fastened on the movements of the cattle poachers, that the thing happened.

He knew Jimmy too well to even suspect that the other would run away voluntarily, for Jimmy dearly loved a “scrap,” though trying to conform to scout rules, and avoid seeking trouble. This would of course mean that the frantic calico pony with the white eyes and furious temper had taken the bit between his teeth, and actually run away with the scout.

How could they tell which way the animal had gone in making his headlong flight? Would he be apt to head for home, or else try and join the horses of the fleeing rustlers?

Ned determined to speak to Chunky about it. The puncher might be able to offer good advice in the matter, seeing that he had spent all his life on the plains, and knew the habits of these tricky bronchos from the ground up.

Chunky, however, was a difficult man to approach just then, for he certainly had his hands full in getting the big herd turned toward the ranch house, and at the same time trying to keep the suspect under his eyes.

If Ned had only had his little electric torch with him he would have gotten down and examined the soil, endeavoring to get some pointers by learning in which direction the calico pony had fled.

All he could really do was to help drive the cattle home, and make up his mind that if poor Jimmy failed to show up during the remainder of the night, he would return again in the morning and do his best to follow the trail of the runaway.

He pictured the scene, with Jimmy, who was not in the class of champion riders at all, clinging to the neck of his mount, and trying to soothe the frantic beast by soft words, which must, however, have fallen on deaf ears.

When before leaving the spot Ned discovered some object shining amidst the bunches of buffalo grass, and jumping down found that it was indeed Jimmy’s prized repeating rifle, he knew that his guess must be close to the truth.

Unless he wanted to be left behind he must be moving, for already had the energetic Chunky and his mates managed to turn the cattle in the right direction and the whole mass was swinging toward home. The herd, however, went unwillingly, doubtless disliking to quit their pasturage, and suspecting it was to be followed by some sort of irksome confinement, remembered only too well from times past.

Ned would not soon forget that long and tiresome drive.

Not only did the punchers have their work cut out for them in keeping the herd compact, and constantly moving toward the region where the building would finally heave in sight, but they had another duty at the same time.

There was no telling what the discomfited rustlers might not attempt. If after their temporary panic they managed to get together and compare notes, doubtless they would realize that they outnumbered the punchers who had taken the prize herd away from them so neatly and expeditiously.

In their anger they might even follow, and start hostile operations on a more savage and determined scale, with the intention of recovering their lost plunder. These cattle thieves had been getting bolder than ever of late, and there could be no telling what they might not attempt.

Consequently Chunky had given orders to his men to keep their guns “on tap,” and to make quick use of the same, given any opportunity. They were thus compelled to keep on guard all the while they shouted, and chased after such steers or cows as manifested a desire to break away from the main herd.

Once he caught the spirit of the thing Ned was in his element, and the puncher afterwards admitted that the boy acted as though he had been accustomed to driving herd all his life.

Of course, with so few hands, and such a wide field to cover, it now became practically impossible for Chunky to keep close to Ally Sloper. He saw that the other appeared to be engaging in the diversion with all his accustomed vim, and it had to go at that. If the man failed to turn up when they reached the stockade, why they would be well rid of a faithless employee, that was all. It was too late now for any traitor to spoil their work by hunting up his allies and telling what he knew.

Apparently Sloper must have been figuring things out, and concluded to risk it further by sticking to the Double Cross outfit. He did not know just how far suspicion may have gone; but if he disappeared now his guilt would be taken for granted, and his usefulness as a spy gone.

So Ned noticed every little while that the man was working with all his accustomed zeal, as though to counteract any suspicion that might have been aroused concerning his loyalty.

Indeed, Ned more than once took pattern from the actions of Sloper, who had few equals and no superiors at the work. It seemed a shame that so expert a cowman should ruin his career by playing a double game with his employers.

It took them several hours to get the herd near home, for as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link so cattle may be driven only as fast as the cows and calves can run.

The strain eased up considerably when they drew nearer the ranch buildings, for the possibility of their being pounced upon became less. At a distance of ten or twelve miles the dashing rustlers could afford to take chances; but not so near home. Once that hard-riding bunch of punchers started in their wake and the cattle thieves knew what was bound to follow; for saddles would be emptied ruthlessly, and no quarter shown. To the cattleman they were looked upon as snakes in the grass, and treated accordingly.

Ned had lots of time to indulge in serious reflections as he rode along, now urging his pony to the right, and again to the left, as occasion demanded, in order to keep the main body of advancing cattle intact.

Besides thoughts of the lost chum, Jimmy, he found himself wondering whether the man whom the Government officials had asked him to look out for, Clem Parsons, could have been one of those whom he saw wildly chasing the stolen cattle; also if the deep-throated voice that had bellowed out from time to time belonged to the awful Hy Adams, step-father to Amos, and ferocious mate to the shrinking little woman he and the other scouts had met and pitied so much.

If this were so he began to speculate as to just how he might get in touch with the man who was wanted on many back charges by the Secret Service people. Doubtless these cattle thieves had a secret den somewhere among the hills, to which they repaired between daring raids. If Clem Parsons had indeed cast his fortunes in with the gang it began to look as though of a necessity Ned would have to look up this hiding-place, risky proceeding though that would seem.

Then his mind would turn again to Jimmy. What if the latter had fallen in with some of the defeated rustlers, would they treat him decently, or be apt to vent their spite upon his head because of their recent bitter disappointment?

Ned found himself wishing again and again it were all over, and that he knew the worst. The closer they drew to the stockade the more he found his nerves quivering with suspense. If Jimmy were not there he realized he was in for a very bad night, and that sleep was not apt to visit his eyes.

The moon was now high up in the star-dotted sky, showing that some hours must have elapsed since the encounter with the bold cattle thieves.

Every chance Ned got he strained his eyes to learn if there were any hopeful signs ahead. But bright though the moon may seem, so that one could even read fine print in a newspaper held close to the eyes, it is always deceptive, and low-lying objects fail to disclose themselves until they are quite near.

It was a moving light that finally told Ned how close the herd was to the ranch buildings. Then he caught answering shouts, and eagerly he listened in the hope of distinguishing the well-known voice of Jimmy among the whoops; but although once or twice he thought he detected it, he could not be sure.

The gates of the big enclosure were open and ready to receive the cattle, with the Chinese cook in attendance. It only required a little expert work in getting the leading steers to enter, and after that the job was easy.

Seeing that his services were no longer required, and with an aching heart, Ned wheeled his pony and started for the long building known as the bunkhouse, beyond which lay the other structures.

As he did so he discovered a moving figure advancing hastily toward him. Hope grappled with doubt, and he was held in this mixture of suspense until suddenly he heard a loud sound that sent a spasm of joy to his heart.

It was a fair imitation of the long-drawn howl of the wolf; and so many times had he drilled Jimmy in making this signal of the patrol to which both of them belonged that he knew his missing chum was safe and sound, or he would not be advancing toward him so sturdily.

“Jimmy,” he shouted in a transport of joy.

“Whoopee! on deck, Ned, and mighty glad it is to see you comin’ back after that hullaballoo of a time!” came the answer; and in another minute the two scouts were shaking hands with considerable vim.

“I picked up your gun, Jimmy,” remarked Ned, the first thing, “and here it is fastened to my saddle.”

“Glory be, but that’s good news,” declared the other, exultantly; “d’ye know I’ve been feelin’ mighty sorry about that same gun, for fear I’d lost it; and you know what I think of the shootin’-stick. It was either drop everything, and get me arms tight around the neck of that blasted broncho, or else find myself standin’ on me head. Gee whiz! but it was a mad race the little villain gave me before he fetched up here at the ranch house.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t have some of the fun of driving the herd home,” remarked the scout master; “but glad it was no worse than a runaway. When I saw the white in the eyes of that pretty calico pony I knew he had a nasty temper. I suppose you’ll want another horse after this?”

“What, me?” ejaculated Jimmy, bristling up instantly; “is that the opinion you’ve got of your old chum, Ned Nestor? Did you ever know me to give anything up first pop? Well, I’ll break that spotted little fiend in, or else he’ll break my coco for me. And say, he’s goin’ to pay up for the run he took this night. I’ll keep him goin’ till he’s ready to drop, and will eat out of me hand. That’s Jimmy McGraw’s way of doin’ things. The McGraws never say die as long as there’s anything to eat in the house.”

“Well, let’s get back to the house, after I’ve turned my pony loose in the corral where they keep the saddle band. None of the others shown up yet?” Ned continued.

“Not yet, though I think one of the herds must be close by now, for I caught a whoop or two a while back, and it didn’t come from your quarter either,” Jimmy replied, walking beside his chum, who had jumped to the ground, glad of the chance to stretch his cramped legs after such a tedious ride, to which he was not accustomed.

“You must have made record time getting here, then, Jimmy?” the scout master observed, and if he smiled at picturing the sight of his companion hanging desperately to the neck of the frantic runaway, Jimmy was not aware of the fact.

“’Tis meself that beat the score that time,” he remarked, proudly. “When I look back, all I seem to remember is a rush, me arms fast around the neck of the flying steed, and then him entering the corral like a whirlwind. It was whist, bang, and there I was miles away from the fight with me heart near broke because I’d been cheated out of the best part of the game.”

When Ned remembered the arduous drive that followed, with his voice husky from shouting, and how his arms ached from waving his hat, and managing his lively mount, he secretly thought Jimmy had been a lucky chap, though he did not say so.

“And you couldn’t find a mount to come back on, I suppose?” he asked.

“That I couldn’t,” replied Jimmy. “The saddle horse corral was plumb empty; and there wasn’t a puncher around to lend me his broncho. I even thought to walk out and meet ye on the way, but was afraid I’d get lost and give heaps of trouble. But glory be, you won the day, and saved the prize herd, which ought to please the Colonel when he hears about the same.”

Having disposed of his mount Ned, together with Jimmy, started for the house, intending to settle down in an easy chair and not move until he went to bed.

There could be no doubt but what one of the other herds was coming in, for the clamor of the drive was in full swing. It had been thought that Chunky and his party might be the last to arrive, as they had further to go; but unexpected difficulties must have delayed the others, or else they found themselves unable to push their herds as rapidly as Ned’s party had done.

Jimmy was laughing softly to himself as they sat there, waiting the turn of events.

“What strikes you as so funny, Jimmy?” asked Ned.

“Well,” replied the other scout, “I was only thinkin’ how little we can see further than our noses. Now, only a bit ago some of us began to complain that the excitement was all in the past. But say, look what we’ve run up against before we’ve been in this country of the cattle rustlers a single day. Can you beat it?”

And Ned, as he looked back at the strange events marking the last twenty-four hours, was compelled to admit that Jimmy was right; for they had certainly never met with a more thrilling series of happenings than those which had come their way. And it also seemed as though the end was not yet; for there still remained to be carried out his business affair in connection with the man who was wanted so badly by the Secret Service people at Washington.

As they sat there and exchanged remarks, the noise grew in volume, and presently from three quarters at once moving objects began to loom up, that soon developed into the expected droves. From which it would seem that success had accompanied the Double Cross punchers in every round-up, and that the herds were all safe.

CHAPTER XVI.
AFTER THE RUSTLERS’ RAID

As the other herds came in the excitement grew intense. Cattle were lowing, men shouting and horses whinnying at such a rate that the two boys changing their mind, had to make their way out to the corral to see the last of the great drive by moonlight.

By degrees things quieted down, though there would be more or less uneasiness manifested among the impounded cattle throughout the night.

The punchers were a noisy lot. Dozens of questions flowed in upon Chunky, Dutch and the other two who managed to bring in the prize herd. This was after the news was circulated that the rustlers had been in the act of making off with the cattle in Washout Coulie at the time the Double Cross boys arrived on the scene.

There was much bitter lamentation heard among the unlucky ones, because they had been cheated out of all the fun. They could have a drive at any time, but a genuine encounter with the bold rustlers was something worth while.

Ned saw that Ally Sloper was playing his part as though he meant to rehabilitate himself in the good graces of the owners of the ranch after his recent unfortunate break. He even boasted of having wounded at least a couple of the cattle thieves with his fire; though Ned knew only too well that this was untrue, since the other had shot too high for any such damage to follow.

“He’s got his nerve with him, seems like,” Jimmy had remarked, as having been joined by Harry and Jack, he and Ned stood there watching the last of the cattle being driven into the big enclosure that would be patrolled during the remainder of the night, so that nothing could happen to break the corral fence and scatter the inmates over the plain.

“That’s more than Lefty Louie had then,” remarked Jack.

“He went out with your crowd, didn’t he?” Ned asked.

“Went out, yes, but he didn’t come back with us,” replied the other scout.

“Huh! I just thought that sneak would beat it, given half a chance,” said Jimmie.

“One of the first things I did,” Harry spoke up, “after getting in was to hunt around to see if the other three came back; and not a sign can you find of one of the bunch.”

“You mean Coyote Smith, Bob Caruso and Tinplate George?” Ned inquired.

“All slipped away the first chance they got,” Harry continued, in a disgusted voice. “I guess they must have seen that the game was up, and thought they might have to swing from some telegraph pole if the punchers took a notion they’d played fast and loose.”

“Can you blame them?” asked Ned.

“Well, perhaps not so much; and besides, it cleans out the sneaky element among the punchers of the Double Cross outfit,” Harry admitted. “But Uncle Job will have a heap to hear when he gets back from his journey. You don’t think those men will dare come close in here and try to steal the cattle right out of the corral, do you, Ned?”

“I should say there wasn’t one risk in a thousand that way,” answered the scout leader, immediately; “they know that we’ll be on guard, and chances are they’ve got too healthy a respect for the shooting abilities of these scrappy Double Cross punchers to want to get into a regular fight with them.”

“But all the same Chunky means to keep on the watch; he’ll have the stockade well guarded, won’t he, Ned?” Harry continued.

“That has all been arranged for,” Ned told him; “and you can make up your mind there’ll be nothing doing until morning. Fact is, I’m more suspicious that Ally Sloper being up to some sly trick than that his friends will dare pounce down on the ranch in the night.

“I hope Chunky hasn’t changed his mind about that snake!” Jimmy ventured. “Just because he helped drive the herd, and goes around boasting how he did such great shakes in shooting up the rustler gang, isn’t any proof that he’s reformed.”

“Chunky is on to his capers, never you fear, Jimmy,” declared Jack, “and ten to one he means to have Sloper watched every minute of the time till dawn. If he tries to slip away, he’ll run up against a snag right off. It may be a piece of lead that stops his exit, or the loop of a lariat. You can count on seeing him among us when the call to breakfast comes.”

“Oh! I wish it was now!” Jimmy was heard to mutter, “all this work seems to have made me as hungry as a wolf; and it’s been an awful long time since they flagged me to a meal.”

“Cheer up, Jimmy,” Ned told him, “because I’ve got some good news for you.”

“Did the lady tell Chin Chin Charley to give the boys some grub after they came in from the drive, Ned; is that the good news you want to tell me?” Jimmy eagerly demanded, looking anxiously at his chum.

“There goes the big gong right now,” interrupted Jack, “and the boys are trooping for the grub tent as if they know what to expect after doing night duty. So get a move on, Jimmy; if you don’t want to find everything cleared out and only a bare table left.”

Jimmy was off like a flash. When the other scouts entered the place where meals were served, they discovered him busily at work.

“Saved you places alongside me!” he called out; “and say, there’s plenty of chow for everybody. That Chink knows his business, and I’m goin’ to be great friends with him all the time we’re here.”

“It takes you to make up to the cook, Jimmy,” laughed Jack.

“That’s all right,” replied the other, with a broad grin, “sure it’s a wise boy that knows which side of his bread is buttered. And Chin Chin Charley is the boss cook, let me tell you right now. I ain’t much in that line myself, but then I know a good thing when I run across it. And don’t the rest of you get jealous if you see how thick me’n him are expectin’ to be; ain’t we, Chin Chin?”

The slant-eyed Mongolian must have already taken quite a liking for jolly, good-natured Jimmy, for upon being thus appealed to he nodded his head until his pigtail bobbed up and down, smiled affably, and was heard to murmur:

“Much good frien’s, Jimmy, me; heap like Melicanboy; much eat; come back more many times, alle samee!”

Apparently Jimmy was in for a good time while staying at the Double Cross Ranch, and he believed in starting things right by making sure that the food supply would be unlimited.

After the midnight supper had been disposed Of the punchers strolled forth again. Ned and Chunky were in consultation, for the puncher, knowing that Mrs. Haines had somehow conceived the idea that the young scout leader had a long head for a boy and could be depended on in an emergency, realized that it was the right thing to put certain things up to him. Of course, Chunky knew best what should be done, and Ned quickly told him to exercise his own judgment in the matter of guarding the big stockade in which the cattle had been shut up.

The boys were all tired after such a long and arduous experience. Even Jack, who as a rule could stand for almost anything, admitted that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other, he felt so stiff.

“That’s because I’m not used to being so long in the saddle and playing the game they have out here,” he acknowledged, “but given a chance, and we’ll show our friends, the punchers, that scouts can ride pretty decently. I’m going to pick up all the kinks of the job while I’m on it; and before we leave here we ought to know how to throw a rope, drop a steer, use the branding iron on his flank, and ride the trickiest broncho there is to a stand-still.”

“That’s me,” asserted Jimmy, like a flash. “He’s a spotted little devil, too, and his name, sure it’s Satan, or if it ain’t it ought to be. He beat me out in the first clash and run me all the way home, like a blue streak; but there’s another day acomin’, don’t you forget it; and that score between Jimmy McGraw and Satan has got to be rubbed out. I’m on to his curves now and I’ll sting him, or it’s me chased to the tall timber. You hear me warble, boys!”

“Then we’ll expect to have lots of fun out of the circus, Jimmy,” said Harry, “because they’ve been telling me that calico pony has got the meanest name around here. Some of the boys heard you boasting about how you could manage any animal, and they just couldn’t help running that beast in on you. But if Uncle Job had been here I don’t think they’d have dared to take the risk. You might have been killed.”

“He didn’t get me off and that’s some comfort,” muttered Jimmy, grimly, “I’m a good sticker, you see.”

“Yes, I noticed that it was hard work to get you away from that table,” Jack remarked, with a chuckle.

They had been given comfortable quarters on the ground floor, for the ranch house really boasted of two stories in part. Cots took the place of beds, but they seemed to be all that might be desired; and, as Jack said, were a thousand per cent better than the hard ground, or the hot sand of the desert, which had been their resting place ever since they left Los Angeles, in that ramshackle automobile that had played them false on the journey and had to be abandoned.

It was expected that the two owners of the ranch would possibly return by the following afternoon, when the stirring news could be told. Until then Ned had considered that, perhaps, no action should be taken in connection with Ally Sloper, except that the suspect must be kept under surveillance, so that he might not damage the property in any way. The Colonel would know how to deal with him though in all probability a discharge would be the limit of his punishment.

The night passed without any alarm.

“Sure they had a lesson they won’t forget for some time,” Jimmy declared in the morning, as the four scouts were talking matters over.

They had had considerable trouble in coaxing the said Jimmy to get out of his comfortable bed. He declared in a sleepy voice that he had been cheated out of much repose lately, and needed rest the worst kind. Argument and pleading seeming to have no effect, Ned finally solemnly assured him that they would eat up every bit of breakfast, no matter how they suffered afterwards for it, unless he immediately started dressing. That did the business, for Jimmy believed Ned meant what he threatened, and that there would be a famine in the land.

It was a fine morning and they enjoyed looking out at the scene from the wide and long verandah. The many buildings, the stockade now filled with hundreds of the impounded stock, the horse corrals where the ponies roamed when not in use, or out grazing on the range – all these and more made up a pleasant picture that seemed to promise the boys a most enjoyable time while at Double Cross Ranch.

Of course, Harry had some important business to transact with his uncle but it was not going to interfere at all with their having a great time. It seemed that they had interested Mr. Stevens in the ranch and its possibilities of enlargement, with greater capital; and the well-to-do automobile maker of New York City had sent his son out to see what he thought of the idea, depending wholly on Harry’s report as to whether he went into the scheme or not.

This being the case it was plain to be seen that Harry was bound to be treated like a young prince while he and his chums were at the ranch and that nothing would be deemed too good for them.

As breakfast was not ready when the boys issued forth, much to the disappointment of Jimmy, who acted as though he had not eaten for two days, they started to look around a little.

“We might as well get acquainted with the lay of things,” said Jack, “because it looks as if we were going to hang out here some little time now. And I want to say, in the beginning, that I expect to be feeling right sore when the time comes to tip our hats to Double Cross Ranch.”

Jimmy gave a grunt at hearing that.

“That’s nothin’,” he asserted, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, “seems to me all of us are pretty much that way right now. And is it to be wondered at, when we took a twenty-five mile run last night without bein’ seasoned to the saddle. But given time, and we’ll get as tough as any puncher around. I think we’ve done right well for a pack of greenhorns.”

“There, your mentioning that word pack makes me think of our burros and their loads,” remarked Ned. “I wonder what became of them.”

“I remember seeing one of the punchers leading the donkeys into the stable,” Harry went on to say, “and p’raps we might find them there. Let’s stroll in and see if Teddy’d know us again, the rascal.”

And as the others were agreeable, they sauntered over to the stable where some of the cowboys’ mounts were kept at times, and which usually housed the saddles and other trappings of the puncher band belonging to the ranch.

It just happened by accident that all of the scouts stopped talking as they approached the long, low building, outside of which could be seen the stout rail at which throughout the day ponies could be seen hitched, sometimes as many as a dozen or a score at a time.

Ned was in the van, and as he stepped into the doorway of the stable he came to a sudden stop and held up his hand in a warning way that the others instantly recognized as a signal for them to halt in their tracks.

No one said a single word, only Jimmy, who was lagging along in the rear, pushed forward as though anxious to get in line, so as to see what it was that had excited the attention of the scout master.

A number of ponies were in the stalls, as well as the donkeys that the boys had brought all the way from Death Valley, and which they had purchased from a party of dejected prospectors desirous of returning home.

There was a man there also, whose back was turned toward them, but whom they immediately recognized as Ally Sloper, the suspected ally of the rustler gang. He had taken down the three packs that came with the burros and belonged to the scouts, and appeared to be eagerly searching the same, evidently bent on learning what they might contain.

It happened that just at the very moment the scouts stood there in the open doorway, Sloper made a discovery that caused him to give vent to a low cry of anger and amazement.

When Ned saw what he held in his hand he did not wonder that the spy was shocked. It was nothing more nor less than the dead homing pigeon the hawk had pounced on, and which with its fateful message had afterwards fallen into the possession of the four scouts, thus putting them wise to the fact that there was treachery afloat at the cattle ranch.

When Ally Sloper saw the nature of his find he understood how it came that his clever game had gone against him so heavily, with the prize herd saved from the rustlers’ raid.