The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek Part 20

"All we're sure of is that they cut the telephone wire," said Bud.

"But there's no telling what they may have laid plans for," added d.i.c.k.

"I guess those sheep men are smarter than we gave them credit for."

"It does seem so," admitted Bud. "We'll have to match our wits against theirs when it comes to a show-down--seeing who's going to keep this rich grazing land."

"One thing in our favor is that we're in possession," said d.i.c.k, as he patted his pony's neck.

"But one thing against us--or against dad, which is the same thing,"

said Bud, "is that his papers proving possession are stolen. And these sheep men seem to know that."

"Yes," agreed d.i.c.k, "they seem to know it all right."

They returned to the fort on the bank of Spur Creek just before dark, and, to their delight, found the telephone in working order. For the ranch had called the cabin, Mr. Merkel wanting to know how matters were at Spur Creek.

He complained of having tried several times to get into communication with the fort, and he had guessed there was a broken wire but he had not suspected it was cut. Then, when he tried again, he found communication restored. This, of course, was after d.i.c.k and Bud had found and mended the break.

Nort had not yet reached the ranch at the time his father finally found the telephone working. But the need of help was told of over the restored wire, and several cowboys were at once dispatched, not waiting for the arrival of Nort.

"I'll send Nort back to you as soon as he gets here," promised Mr.

Merkel.

These matters having been disposed of, Bud and d.i.c.k had a chance to ask what had transpired at the fort since they left.

"Jest nothin'--that's all," answered Snake.

"But I think there's goin' t' be somethin' doin' right shortly,"

observed Yellin' Kid.

"What makes you think so?" asked Bud.

In answer the cowboy pointed across the river. The cloud of dust had settled, revealing more plainly now thousands of sheep. And as the defenders of the fort watched they saw, separating from the sheep, a number of men who approached the Mexican bank of the stream.

What were they going to do?

CHAPTER XVI

STRANGE ACTIONS

Until there was what in law is termed an "overt act," the boy ranchers and their friends could do nothing against the sheep herders who were there in plain sight, with their woolly charges on the far side of Spur Creek. "Overt act" is a law term, and practically means an open act as distinguished from one that is done in secret and under cover.

Thus if the sheep herders should openly attempt to cross the creek, and drive their animals up on Mr. Merkel's land--or land which he claimed--then Bud and his a.s.sociates could proceed against them, driving them off--"repelling boarders," as d.i.c.k expressed it, having in mind some of his favorite pirate tales.

But until the sheep men had done something--had committed an overt act--they could not be molested as long as they remained where they were.

"It's like this," explained Bud, for his father had made matters plain to him over the mended telephone line. "We got to wait until they set foot on our land--or until some of their onery sheep begin to nibble--and then we can start something."

"What, for instance?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Well, we can order 'em off--that is, order the Greasers off," replied Bud. "Not much use talking to sheep, I reckon."

"Nor to a Greaser, either," murmured Snake. "One is about as bright and smart as the other."

"Anyhow," resumed Bud, "we can't do anything until they start something."

"Not even if we know they're going to do it?" asked another of the cowboys who, meanwhile, had arrived from Diamond X ready for a fight.

"Not even then," answered Bud. "But once they cross the creek and land here, then we'll begin," and he looked to his gun.

"What'll we do with the sheep?" asked the cowboy. There seemed to be no doubt in the minds of the men as to what they would do with the Greasers.

"We'll have to dispose of 'em," said Bud regretfully. "It seems a pity, too, for the poor things haven't done any harm. But it's either their lives or those of our cattle. The two can't live on the same range, and the sheep have no right here."

"Shoot 'em and drive 'em back into the water if they try to swim across--is that it?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Yes, but hang it all!" cried Bud, "I hope that doesn't happen. I sure hate to do it!"

And to give them credit, the others felt the same way about it.

Meanwhile the sheep having settled down to a quiet but fast feeding--which is their characteristic--the actions of the band of Greaser and Mexican herders who had them in charge was eagerly watched by the boy ranchers and their friends.

They saw two hors.e.m.e.n ride down to the bank of the creek at one spot and urge their steeds in. For a time all seemed to go well, but suddenly, when a few yards out in the stream one of the Mexicans frantically called to his companion, who shouted an inquiry as to what was wrong.

Something very dangerously wrong seemed to be the trouble, for the first Mexican was now frantically appealing for help, and a moment later his companion sent his lariat hissing through the air, the coils settling around the frightened man who grasped the rope and leaped into the creek.

But the horse remained in the water, though the animal was wildly struggling to turn and go back to the southern sh.o.r.e, along which the sheep were feeding, some of them slaking their thirst in Spur Creek.

Pulling his companion along by the lariat, the still mounted Mexican made for the sh.o.r.e he had so recently quitted, leaving the lone horse to struggle by itself.

"What does that mean?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Quicksands--just what I told you about," answered Bud. "There are a lot of places where the bed of the creek is pitted with quick sands, and this Greaser struck one."

"One did and the other didn't," observed Snake, for it was evident that the rider who had used his lariat had found firm footing for his steed.

"That's it," Bud explained. "You can't tell where the sands are and where they aren't. I happen to know some places that are free," he went on, "but, even there the water is too deep for the sheep to get across, on account of the current."

The two Mexicans, one on his horse and the other swimming at the end of the lariat, had reached the sh.o.r.e they so recently quitted, on what object could only be guessed. Then there was very evidently a conference among the sheep herders during which the excited men who had taken part in the adventure pointed to the spot where the horse was struggling.

"I hope they aren't going to leave that poor brute to suffer," murmured Yellin' Kid, his voice low for one of the few times in his career.

But it was evident that whatever were the faults of the sheep herders they did not number among them too much cruelty to a horse. For when it was evident that the animal could not free himself, a number of the Greasers rode as close as was safe, and tossed their lariats about the animal's neck. Then they began pulling.

But the quicksands had too firm a grip on the animal's legs. He had sunk lower in the stream, and his struggles were less, simply because he was now so nearly engulfed in the powerful suction of the water-soaked and ever-s.h.i.+fting sands.