The Broncho Rider Boys Along the Border Part 1

The Broncho Rider Boys Along the Border.

by Frank Fowler.

CHAPTER I.

THE THREE RANCH PARDS.

"We'll never get another chance like it, fellows!"

"No more we won't, Billie."

"And so I say let's stay around this section till we see all there is."

"That's what Adrian remarked, Billie, before you put your oar in."

"Oh! well if it's a unanimous vote, why, I reckon the whole thing might be called settled then, eh, Donald?"

"We'll stay for a while, anyhow. You know our saddle chum, Adrian, is getting just wild to take a run away up into that Northern range country in Wyoming, where in times gone by they used to have big cattle ranches."

"Yes, I've heard him say he was uneasy about that ranch he owns up there, but hasn't seen for so long. It's being run by an uncle named Fred Comstock, and our pard has a sorter idea that it's more profitable to Uncle Fred than to him. So he thinks he'd better take a jaunt up that way unbeknown to all parties, and see for himself. And Donald, when he starts there'll be _three_ of us in the bunch, won't there?"

"Sure thing, Billie. You don't think we'd go and let our right-hand bower trail away off like that alone. Look at him smile when he hears me say that. Adrian knows we'll stick as close to him as a burr, don't you now, old fellow?"

"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear you talk that way, boys," replied the third member of the little group standing on a rocky height, from which a very fine view could be had of that mountainous mining section of Arizona; and the presence of three spirited cow ponies near by told just how the boys, who were in range costume, must have come there.

For the benefit of those who have not had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of these wide-awake lads in previous stories of this Series, a minute or two might profitably be taken up here and now in telling a little about them, so that something of their character and aims may be understood.

Donald Mackay was the son of a ranchman who not only owned a vast tract of land in the Far Southwest range country, but had interests in mines as well. Adrian Sherwood was his chum, and had been for a long time back; while the fat chap, whose rosy and freckled face seemed bubbling with good humor most of the time, had not been out in this wild region many moons.

In fact, being Donald's cousin, and a Southern boy by birth, though his folks now lived in the North, Billie had been sent down on a year's visit to the cattle country for the sake of his health!

To look at him no one would suspect that this was in any degree imperiled; for he was terribly stout, and at times fairly waddled; but that was the trouble; and it was hoped that the free life of the range, with all sorts of hard riding, and kindred sports, would not only reduce his girth, but harden his flabby muscles.

Already Billie was another boy. He had lost twenty pounds, so he claimed, and called himself as "hard as nails," whatever that might mean. Certain it was that he could ride in a manner that astonished those who were liable to secretly sneer at his clumsy appearance; and as for pluck and endurance, why Billie was as stubborn as an army mule, once he set out to accomplish anything.

At first he had ridden a demure old nag named Maudie, that was always trailing so far behind those mounts of his comrades Wireless and Ten Spot, when they rode forth, that Billie just made up his mind he would never stand for it. So he had Mr. Mackay give him an unruly cow pony called Jupiter, that few of the punchers cared to ride; and for weeks in and weeks out Billie had his regular daily stunt with that raging beast.

How many times he went over its head no one knew, for they had lost all count; but somehow the fat boy seemed to bear a charmed life, for his hurts were all of a minor character. And in the end he won out, just as the others knew he would; for given time running water can wear away a stone. And now Jupiter was under perfect control, save for an occasional little spasm, when his old ugly nature tried to show itself for a change.

These three lads had seen considerable excitement around Keystone Ranch, as the home place was called; and later on Donald had been sent down into Arizona when his father, being disabled, could not come; in order to settle some troubles that had arisen in connection with a rich copper mine, in which he and some others were heavily interested.

An unscrupulous syndicate of capitalists, headed by one Colonel Deering, a close neighbor of the Mackays, but who had always been on bad terms with the other ranch-owners, had secured a footing in the copper mine, knowing of a very rich lode that had just been discovered; and tried by every means in their power to freeze out the other stockholders, even engineering a serious strike that threatened to be the ruination of the whole property.

But Donald, a.s.sisted by his two chums, had skillfully managed to alter the complexion of affairs during their visit, as related in the second book of the Series; making friends with the leader of the strikers in a way that was at once wonderful and lucky; so that in the end those who had been trying to foment trouble had to throw up their job and decamp, for the miners all came flocking over to the side of Donald, and gladly signed contracts to work for his father for a term of years, under the new and favorable terms.

Of course Billie had another name, and perhaps it would be as well to mention all there is to say in that connection right here and now, so that agony will be over with.

He had been christened William Stonewall Jackson Winkle, for, as can be seen, his father or grandfather must have at one time fought under the most beloved general known to the Southern Lost Cause. Some of his boy friends delighted to call him "Little Billie" and "Wee Willie Winkle,"

just because he was anything but small. But when he got out there in the cattle country, the cowboys of the ranch, seeing his natural clumsiness, in a spirit of fun quickly dubbed him "Broncho Billie," never dreaming that the fat boy would show such grit as to conquer that terror of the corral, Jupiter Pluvius. And nowadays no one ever thought of calling him by any other name.

Billie had done considerable reading when at home, and one day while they were still roaming all around the wild rocky region that surrounded the Red Spar mine he had asked a lot of questions about the Zuni Indians, saying that he had always longed to see for himself if half the queer stories he had heard and read in connection with these quaint people of the rock houses could be true.

He knew that they were not more than three days' ride right then and there from a Zuni village, and every little while he had pestered the life out of his chums, hinting at the great and glorious opportunity that was right then knocking at their doors, and which might never come again.

And now that Donald had admitted, under severe cross-questioning, that both he and Adrian had long ago decided to see all there was to be observed while in that section of Arizona, of course Billie was fairly overjoyed.

Billie was the best natured bungler any one ever knew. No matter what a mess he made of things, when one of his chums started in to take him to task, his blue eyes would take on such a reproachful expression, while his jolly broad face was apt to expand in such a smile that made it impossible for them to feel in the least degree angry; and so it always ended in a general laugh all around, and Billie solemnly promising never to do it again-until the next time.

These three lads were seen so much on their ponies that they had come to be known all through the section of country where Donald's father had his ranch as the "Broncho Rider Boys;" and they took considerable pride in living up to their reputation as good hors.e.m.e.n.

Having come out from the mine on this particular day to investigate a place that Corse Tibbals, the superintendent at the Red Spar Mine had told them was worth seeing on account of the view, as well as the fact that it had more venomous reptiles to the square foot than any other section of the State, they had prowled around, and used the gla.s.ses Adrian carried, until tired.

Then Donald and Adrian had thrown themselves down, saying they would take it easy for another half hour, when it would be time to make a start on the return trip, if they wished to reach the mine before night set in.

Broncho Billie kept on "rooting," for he always loved to "browse around"

as he called it, in every old place he could find, looking for curious things to add to the collection he was making of strange objects calculated to astonish his boy friends at home in the East, when he returned there later on.

"I've heard a heap about that blessed Gila Monster," he had told the others on several occasions since starting out on this day's gallop and climb; "and perhaps now we might run across a single specimen, where there are so many venomous toads and rattlesnakes and such. Oh! don't shake your wise old heads, and look at me in that way. Just you make sure I ain't going to touch anything like _that_! I've been duly warned by Si Ketcham the ranch foreman, and also Harris over here at the Red Spar Mine, to keep my distance. But if I could only get a specimen, and stuff it, I'd be a happy Broncho Billie."

Ten minutes afterward the two who were resting heard him calling to them.

"Oh! just come over here and see the rattlesnake cage I've struck, fellows! Must be a regular nest of the varmints, dozens and dozens asunning themselves down in this rocky pit."

"Hold on there, be careful, Billie, what you do!" called Donald, as he and his chum scrambled to their feet; but it was only to hear a wild screech from the fat boy; and then followed a terribly significant rattling of shale that struck them with a cold chill.

CHAPTER II.

BILLIE HAS A CLOSE CALL.

"Oh! Billie's fallen down in that rattlesnake den!" gasped Adrian, even while he and Donald were jumping over the rocks as fast as their legs would carry them, and headed in the direction where just ten seconds before they had seen the fat chum waving his arms excitedly to attract their attention, only to suddenly slip and disappear from view.

In all their experiences with the clumsy Billie, the two boys probably never had such a sensation of absolute horror sweep over them as at that particular minute.

They must have pictured all sorts of terrible results springing from this weakness on the part of Billie to do just the very thing he should have avoided. For him to make a misstep, and fall into that hole in the rocks where he had just told them dozens of poisonous snakes were coiled, and wriggling about, was possibly the greatest calamity that could have happened to him. And it might be the last mistake poor clumsy Billie was ever apt to make in this world of woe.

Spurred on by fear, and almost dreading to peer into the pit, the two boys reached the edge in a very few seconds. Both of them shut their teeth hard as they proceeded to thrust their heads out in order to look downward.

What they saw gave them a new thrill.

Billie was there, but he had not fallen all the way to the bottom of the hole, it appeared. His old lucky streak seemed to still hold good, for he had succeeded, somehow or other,-and Billie could never explain in what way it came about,-in clutching hold of the rocks as he fell, so that he was clinging there, with his fat legs kicking wildly in s.p.a.ce, and not more than five feet from the bottom of the rocky pit.

And just as he had so exultantly shouted when he wanted to attract his resting companions to view the strange sight, the floor of the den seemed to be almost carpeted with squirming reptiles, as though this might be a regular breeding place for rattlesnakes.