Stratemeyer Edward
The Rover Boys at Big Horn Ranch: or, The Cowboys' Double Round-Up
“It is empty!” ejaculated Andy. “It’s running by itself!”
CHAPTER XXIII
JARLEY BANGS
“What do you know about that!”
“Who ever heard of an automobile running around by itself?”
“It’s gotten away from somebody,” came from Jack. “Just look at it skating over the ground!”
“Come on! Let’s stop the blamed thing!” shouted Andy, and started off on horseback after the runaway car.
“You’ll have a sweet job catching that auto,” declared his twin. Nevertheless, he followed Andy, and, not knowing what else to do, the others did the same.
The automobile was of a cheap variety, and clattered noisily on its way, with one cylinder occasionally missing fire. It had been running in a snakelike course, but now it seemed to be making something of a circle.
“By jinks! I think it’s coming back here!” exclaimed Fred suddenly.
“It isn’t running as fast as it was,” declared Spouter. “Maybe it’s going to stop.”
“I’m going to see if I can’t get aboard!” cried Jack, with sudden determination, and headed his horse behind the touring car, which was still moving at a fair rate of speed.
Once one of the front wheels went down in a hole, and then the car slued around and started off, heading almost for the boys.
“Look out!”
“Get out of the way there or you’ll be run down!”
Wild cries rent the air, and the young horsemen scattered in every direction. But Jack was watching his chance, and as the car slued around once more he managed to leap from his horse and clutch the side of the automobile. Then he leaped into the car and turned off the power, and in a few seconds he brought the automobile to a standstill.
“This is the queerest adventure I ever heard of,” declared Gif, when the brief excitement had come to an end. “Who ever heard of meeting a runaway auto like this?”
“I guess we can be thankful that we weren’t run down,” returned Fred. “You took a big chance, Jack, in jumping on board as you did.”
“Oh, it wasn’t such a risk,” answered his cousin modestly. “I think the auto was getting ready to stop anyhow.”
“I wonder where the owner is?” questioned Andy.
“Perhaps the auto struck a stone and threw him out!” exclaimed Spouter suddenly. “He may be lying along the trail somewhere stunned or dead.”
“I guess the best thing we can do is to see if we can locate the owner,” declared Gif, after a pause.
“Come on, Spouter. You get in the auto with me and we’ll run it back in the direction it came from,” said Jack. “The other fellows can follow and bring our horses.”
“Do you think you can run this car?” questioned Spouter.
“Sure I can! It isn’t much different from the cars I’m used to even though it’s a cheap one,” was the reply.
Spouter dismounted and was soon beside Jack. The power was again turned on and the car moved on with many a little jerk and jangling of metal-ware.
“It’s next door to a bit of junk,” remarked Jack, as they moved forward along the trail at a rate of about fifteen miles an hour. “I think if a fellow tried to make real speed with it it would fall to pieces.”
“Sounds to me as if it needed oiling,” ventured Spouter.
“Yes, it needs oiling, and new springs, and a new engine, and a new chassis and a few other things, and then it would be quite a good car,” answered Jack, with a grin.
The two lads in the car had covered less than a mile, and the others were coming up behind them, when they saw a man running toward them and waving his arms wildly.
“Hi there! Stop!” called out the man. “Stop, I tell you! If you don’t stop I’ll have the law on you!”
As soon as he saw the man Jack slowed up and came to a standstill by the side of the fellow. He was a tall, lean man of about fifty, with a strangely wrinkled and sallow face and long, drooping, reddish mustache. He had a pair of greenish-brown eyes that seemed to bore the boys through and through as he gazed rather savagely at them.
“What do you mean by running off with my car?” he demanded, as he shook his fist at the lads.
“Is this your car?” questioned Jack.
“You know well enough it’s my car!” blustered the man. “And I demand to know what you mean by running away with it!”
“We didn’t run away with it,” answered Spouter.
“Yes, you did!”
“We did not!” put in Jack. “We found it back there on the plains running around all by itself.”
“What? You expect me to believe such a story as that?” exclaimed the tall man, glaring at them more ferociously than ever. “Running around by itself! How could it be doing that? You took it from where I left it, up by the trees yonder!” and he pointed to a quantity of tall timber some distance away.
By this time the other boys were coming up, bringing with them the two unused horses. The man gazed at them in surprise and also noted the two steeds that were not being used.
“Maybe you’re telling the truth and maybe you ain’t,” went on the man sourly. “I’d like to git at the bottom of this.” Thereupon the boys related what had taken place and Spouter mentioned the fact that his father was the owner of Big Horn Ranch.
“Oh, then you’re Mr. Powell’s son, eh?” cried the man. “Are you the boy who went to Colby Hall with my nephew, Lester Bangs?”
“Is Lester your nephew?” queried Spouter. And as the man nodded shortly, he added: “Then you must be Mr. Jarley Bangs?” and again the man nodded.
“I think you ought to thank our chum here, Jack Rover, for bringing your car back to you, Mr. Bangs,” remarked Gif. “If he hadn’t jumped from his horse into the car the machine might be racking itself to pieces out on the prairie now. It was doing all sorts of stunts when he jumped aboard and shut off the power.”
“I can’t understand this nohow,” grumbled Jarley Bangs. “If what you say is true, how in thunder did that car git started? I left it by the edge of the woods while I went in to look over some timber that we thought of gitting out this fall. All at once I heard the engine go off with a bang, and when I ran out of the woods to see what was doing the car was gone.”
“Was any one with you?” questioned Spouter.
“No. I came out alone. Lester wanted to come along, but I told him to stay at the ranch and do some work. He seems to think that all he’s out here for is to play.”
“Oh, then Lester is staying with you, is he?” queried Fred.
“Yes. His folks let him come up for a couple of months. Then he’s going back to his home in Wyoming, and after that he’s got to return to that military school. I think it’s a fool notion to send him to that school. If I was his father I’d make him stay out here and go to work.”
“You don’t suppose Lester tried to start the car, do you?” questioned Andy.
“How could he if he was at the ranch? But wait a minute! He said something about going fishing in that brook that flows through the woods. Maybe he did come up that way, after all.”
“Does he know how to run the auto?” asked Randy.
“Yes, he does. But I don’t let him run it very often because he’s so careless I’m afraid he’ll ruin the machine – he bangs her over the rocks something awful. I ain’t got no money to waste on a new car. This has got to do, even if it is kind of used up.”
“Maybe Brassy – I mean Lester – came up and tried to start the car while the gears were in mesh,” suggested Jack; “and then when the car started to run away perhaps he got scared and ran away, too.”
“If he did anything like that he’ll have an account to settle with me!” exclaimed Jarley Bangs, his eyes glowing with anger. “That boy is getting too fresh. I said he could come up here, thinking he’d do some work around the place and so earn the money that I promised him for his schooling. But evidently he thinks more of having a good time than he does of working. He is forever fooling around the car and wanting to run it; so I wouldn’t put it past him to do what you suspect. As soon as I git home I’ll ketch him and make him tell me the truth,” continued Jarley Bangs, with a determined shake of his head.
After that he questioned Spouter concerning the ranch Mr. Powell had purchased and spoke of the men who had previously owned the place.
“These city fellows think they kin come out here and make a fortune on a ranch,” he growled. “But after they’ve owned a place a year or two they find it ain’t so easy. A man has got to hustle like all git-out to make a living.”
“Where is your ranch located?” asked Fred.
“Our buildings are right behind that patch of timber,” was the reply. “It’s not so very much of a place, but it’s good enough for me.”
“And where is the Bimbel ranch?” questioned Gif.
“That’s up to the northward, over the top of yonder hill. But you young fellows had better give Bimbel a wide berth,” went on Jarley Bangs, with a shake of his head.
“Why?” asked Spouter.
“He don’t like no strangers hanging around, that’s why. If a stranger comes up to his door Bimbel always reaches for his gun. He had trouble years ago with some tramps, and he never got over it.”
After that Jarley Bangs had but little more to say. The boys had left the touring car, and now the man jumped inside, saw to it that everything was in order, and then asked Spouter to crank up for him.
“Ain’t no use to waste time here,” he remarked. “I’ve got to git back to what I was doing. I’ll tell Lester I saw you, and if he wants to he kin come over to Big Horn Ranch and visit – he ain’t of much account around my place. And I’ll git at the bottom of what happened to this auto, too, even if I have to lick it out of him.”
“I don’t think Lester will care to visit our ranch,” answered Spouter coldly.
“Well, I ain’t got nothing to say about that one way or the other. Now I’m off,” and with a short nod of his head Jarley Bangs threw in the gears of his machine and rattled away, slowly gathering speed as he proceeded.
“A kind, considerate man, not!” exclaimed Andy in disgust.
“How politely he thanked Jack for returning his car,” added Spouter.
“And the beautiful invitation we got to visit his place,” put in Randy.
“I wonder if Brassy really started that car on him?” questioned Fred.
“It might be,” answered Gif. And then he added: “Gee, I’m sorry for Brassy if he has to live with such an uncle as that! Wouldn’t you think he’d rather stay at home?”
“Perhaps it’s a case of money,” put in Randy. “Didn’t you hear what Mr. Bangs said about paying for tuition at Colby Hall? Brassy’s folks may be quite poor, and they may be depending on this uncle for financial aid.”
CHAPTER XXIV
A NEW ARRIVAL
After the disappearance of Jarley Bangs the Rover boys and their chums continued their trip on horseback.
“Let’s move over the hill in the direction of the Bimbel ranch,” suggested Spouter. “I’d like to get a bird’s-eye view of that outfit.”
“Perhaps we had better not go too close,” advised Fred. “Bimbel may be getting out a shotgun for us.”
“I guess it isn’t as bad as all that, Fred. Those things might have happened years ago when the country was more sparsely settled and when there were more bad men around. I don’t take much stock in what Bangs said. Probably he and Bimbel have quarreled. He struck me as being a man who could get into a dispute very easily.”
“Oh, I was only fooling,” answered Fred. “I wouldn’t be afraid to ride right up to his door. That is, in the daytime. Of course, if we did it at night he might become suspicious.”
“Say, do you fellows know that it’s five minutes to twelve?” questioned Andy, after consulting his watch. “I move that we keep our eyes open for some place where we can take it easy and have lunch.”
“And I second the commotion,” returned his brother, joking in a way their father had made familiar to them.
The boys rode on for half an hour longer, and then reached the top of the hill they were ascending. Here they could look a long distance in all directions.
“Some view, I’ll say,” declared Jack, as he surveyed the panorama. “What a picture for an artist to paint!” and he pointed to the majestic mountains to the westward.
“Just look at the river – how it glistens and sparkles in the sunshine,” burst out Spouter. “See how it winds in and out like a silvery ribbon among the hills and brushwood and then comes out to cut the broad and fertile prairie in the far distance.”
“Spouter, you’ll have to write an essay about this when you get back to the Hall,” said Fred, with a grin.
“Gee, don’t mention school at a time like this!” burst out Andy. “I want to forget all about studying until it’s absolutely necessary to go back to it. And don’t forget it’s high time to eat,” he added.
They moved along slowly and presently selected a spot for their temporary camp. This was a short distance from the trail they had been following. It was at the edge of a patch of timber where they were sheltered from the rays of the sun which were now quite warm.
“We’ll be in the shade here, and yet just see the view we’ll have,” cried Gif.
“Suits me,” announced Spouter promptly; and the others agreed that the spot was a first-rate location.
It did not take the six chums long to give the horses their feed and then to empty the saddlebags and prepare their mid-day meal. They had brought along chicken as well as roast-beef sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, pickles, and a large cake, and also a bag of doughnuts which Hop Lung had learned to make from Mrs. Powell and of which the Celestial was justly proud. They also had with them a thermos bottle of hot cocoa and another of coffee, all fixed ready to drink.
“Well, Hop Lung certainly spread himself for us,” said Jack, as he took up one of the fat chicken sandwiches and surveyed it with satisfaction. Then he turned to the twins. “What are you grinning about?” he questioned quickly.
“Oh, I was only thinking about the trick we played on the Chink,” chuckled Andy.
“And I was thinking of the same thing,” put in his twin.
“It’s a wonder he didn’t try to get square with us for that,” came from Fred. “An American would be sure to try it.”
The long ride in the open air had made all of the boys hungry, and it was not long before they had disposed of a large part of the sandwiches, pickles and eggs, washing the meal down with cocoa and coffee and also with water from a regular water bottle Spouter carried.
“Now I guess it’s about time we passed around some of the cake,” remarked Jack, presently.
“I think I’ll start on a doughnut,” answered Gif.
The cake was in a square tin and had been cut ready for use. In a few seconds all of the boys were munching away lustily.
And then something happened! It was Fred who was the first to notice that the piece of cake he was devouring had a peculiar puckery taste. He rolled some of the cake around in his mouth, and then suddenly ejected it, and just as he did this Andy dropped the doughnut he was devouring.
“Oh my! What’s the matter with that cake?”
“Say, this doughnut tastes like fire!”
“Gee, my mouth is burning up!”
“Give me some of that water, quick! My tongue is getting blistered!”
“What do you suppose is in this cake, anyhow, and in the doughnuts?” demanded Jack, as he, too, made a wry face and stopped eating.
“Gracious me! do you suppose Hop Lung put the wrong stuff in the cake and in the doughnuts?” demanded Spouter anxiously.
“Oh, this is awful!” groaned Gif. “I’m burning up inside!” And he put both hands on his stomach.
“Maybe we’re poisoned!” suggested Randy. He made a wild dive for the water bottle, and this was passed around from hand to hand, each lad drinking eagerly in an endeavor to wash the burning taste from his mouth and throat.
“I know what’s the matter,” said Jack, after the most of the excitement was over. “Hop Lung doctored the cake and the doughnuts to get square with us for the trick we played on him.”
“I wonder if that’s so?” questioned Andy soberly.
“Sure, it’s so!” broke in Gif. “That Chink wasn’t as slow as you thought, Andy.”
“Gosh, my mouth burns yet!” grumbled Randy, taking a drink of cocoa. “That’s the worst dose I ever chewed. What do you suppose he put in the cake?”
“Tasted to me like a combination of cayenne pepper, mustard, and a few things like that,” answered Jack.
“Then the whole cake and all the doughnuts must be no good.”
“That’s too bad! And I had my heart set on a nice doughnut,” answered Spouter. “Just the same, I can’t blame Hop Lung.”
“Well, anyway, let’s be thankful the sandwiches are all right and so are the eggs,” remarked Fred.
“Maybe some of the sandwiches that are left are doctored,” put in Andy suspiciously.
“No, they look all right,” announced Gif, after an inspection. “And he couldn’t do much with the eggs while they were in their shells,” he added.
While he was speaking, and while some of the boys were still taking drinks of various kinds to clear their mouths and throats of that awful burning taste, Spouter made an inspection of the paper bag containing the doughnuts.
“Hello! here’s another little bag at the bottom of the big one,” he cried. “Let’s see what it contains.”
He dumped out the doughnuts and drew forth the smaller bag. Opening this, the lads found it contained six pieces of golden yellow pound cake, neatly wrapped in tissue paper.
“Gee! is that more of the doctored stuff?” questioned Fred.
“Maybe. But I don’t think so,” answered Spouter. “I think Hop Lung put this in for a peace offering, to be found after we had chewed on that other stuff.”
And in that surmise Spouter proved correct. The pound cake was delicious, and, having sampled it with caution to find that it was all right, the boys ate it to the last crumb with great satisfaction.
“We’d better dump all that other stuff away,” said Fred. “No use of carrying it if it isn’t fit to eat.”
“Maybe some of it is good,” returned Andy.
“Do you want to sample it and make sure?” questioned Jack, with a grin.
“Not on your life! I wouldn’t want that burning taste in my mouth again for a hundred dollars.”
The boys threw the highly-seasoned cake and the doughnuts away, repacked what was left of the other food, and then continued on their ride. The trail led through the patch of timber and then over some rather rough rocks and through some brushwood. Among the rocks they found a spring where the water was clear and cold, and here they had a most refreshing drink and watered their horses.
“It’s queer this spring is away up here on the top of the hill,” remarked Spouter. “That water must flow underground from the mountains yonder.”
“What a lot of underground streams there must be!” returned Fred.
While moving along those in the lead had kept their eyes open for more snakes. But no reptiles appeared, for which they were thankful.
“But I’m sorry we didn’t see some sort of wild animals,” said Randy, in speaking of this. “I thought sure we’d see a bear or a deer or something like that.”
Even birds seemed to be scarce in that vicinity, and the only sound that broke the stillness as they advanced was their own voices and the clatter of the horses’ hoofs on the rocks.
The trail was a well-defined one, and they could see that it had been used only a short while before.
“Half a dozen horsemen have been this way within the last few hours,” declared Gif. “Most likely they were on their way to Bimbel’s ranch.”
“I wonder if that man Haddon has gotten here yet,” said Jack.
“More than likely,” answered Fred. “If you’ll remember, those men didn’t expect to stay in Arrow Junction very long.”
“I’d like to know more about that chap, and know exactly how he’s mixed up with Brassy Bangs,” went on the oldest of the Rover boys.
“I guess we’d all like to know that,” put in Randy.
Presently they came to a turn of the trail. Here they could see across a wide stretch of prairie to where there was a collection of low buildings, seven or eight in number. To the rear of the buildings was a corral for horses.
“It doesn’t look much different from lots of other ranches,” said Fred.
“Do you want to go any closer to it?” questioned Gif.
The boys talked the matter over, and while Andy and Randy were rather curious to get a more intimate view of the place, the others decided that they would not ride any closer on this trip.
“It’s now nearly two o’clock,” said Spouter. “And if we want to go any distance up the river it will take us until sundown to get back home.”
They turned back, and an hour or so later reached the point where they had parted from Jarley Bangs. Then they took a trail up the river and followed this until the sun, sinking over the western mountains, warned them that it was time for them to head for home.
“Say, I’ve got an idea,” announced Andy, when they came in sight of the ranch house. “Don’t let on to anybody about that doctored cake. If Hop Lung or anybody else mentions it, just act as if nothing unusual had happened. Say the lunch was as good as any we ever had.”
“That’s the idea!” returned his twin. “We’ll keep that Chink guessing.” And it may be added here that the boys kept their word, and Hop Lung never knew how his little joke had terminated, although he felt sure in his own mind that they had received the full benefit of the trick he had played.
The six boys were still some distance from the house when they saw a man come out on the veranda and wave his hand to them. At first they thought it might be Sam Rover. But then, of a sudden, Jack let out a yell.
“Boys, what do you know about this! Do you recognize that man?”
“It’s Hans Mueller!” ejaculated Fred.
“Uncle Hans!”
“Who would have thought he was coming to the ranch?”
“Hans Mueller!” murmured Andy. “I’ll be glad to see him. He’s as full of fun as a stray dog is of fleas!”
Hans Mueller was a man who in his boyhood days had been a boon companion of the Rover boys’ fathers. When he had gone to Putnam Hall with the Rovers he had spoken very broken English, and his improvement in speech had been slow and painful. But Hans had prospered in a business way, and was now the sole proprietor of a chain of delicatessen stores in Chicago. He was unmarried, and, having no family of his own, had insisted upon it that all of his young friends call him “uncle.”
“Hello der, eferypody!” called out Hans Mueller cordially, as he came down from the veranda to greet them, his fat face beaming genially.
“How are you, Uncle Hans?” cried Jack, leaping to the ground and shaking hands. “This is certainly a surprise.”
“Yes, Songpird tol’ me you wouldn’t know I vas coming,” was the answer. “How you been alreatty?”
“Fine as silk,” answered Andy gayly. And now all the boys clustered around to shake hands.
“You’re just the man we want here to help us enjoy our vacation,” put in Fred.
“Dot’s nice, Fred. I tink I vas going to haf a fine time alreatty. And I need him,” went on Hans Mueller. “Since I come from de war back from Europe, where I fights for Uncle Sam, I work like a steam horse in mine delicatessen stores. But so soon like Songpird says come out here and meet dem Rovers and you udder friends, I say to my clerks, ‘you got to run dem stores by yourselfes alreatty yet awhile. I go oud to Pig Horn Ranch and git some fresh air mine lungs in.’”
“You’ll get the fresh air all right enough,” announced Spouter. “And we’re mighty glad you’re here,” he added, and then led the way into the house.
