Stratemeyer Edward
The Rover Boys at Big Horn Ranch: or, The Cowboys' Double Round-Up
CHAPTER XXIX
A CONFESSION
After that it was an easy matter for the other boys to get Brassy to make a complete confession.
“My first trouble came when I got a job with John Calder who has a farm on the outskirts of Omaha,” said Brassy. “I had had a quarrel at home, and also a quarrel with my uncle here, and had made up my mind to get a place and support myself. But I couldn’t get along with Calder, who was a very strict man, and one afternoon we had a lively quarrel, and I told him I’d leave, and I did so and went to Omaha. About a week after that Calder’s barn burned down and a number of horses were caught in the fire. That was just after I had fallen in with Bud Haddon and his two chums, Jillson and Dusenbury. Haddon pretended to be quite friendly. But all at once he accused me of setting the fire and said that Jillson and Dusenbury, who had left the day before, could prove it. I protested my innocence, but he insisted I was guilty and worked me up to such an extent that I gave him almost every dollar I had in my pocket to keep him quiet.”
“And you say positively that you had nothing to do with the fire?” questioned Fred.
“Not a thing!”
“Couldn’t you prove that you weren’t there when the fire took place?” asked Andy.
“No, I couldn’t, because I went to a vaudeville show that evening, and I was among strangers, so that I couldn’t account for my time.”
“Did Haddon hound you when you came to Colby Hall?” questioned Gif.
“He certainly did – not once, but half a dozen times. And I gave him all the money I could scrape up. In fact, I even borrowed some money from Halliday and a couple of the other fellows.”
“But what about the robbery at the Hall?’” questioned Fred.
“Several times Haddon came to me and spoke in a mysterious manner about its being an easy matter to make a big haul. Then he hinted about the robbery; but I would have nothing to do with it. On the afternoon when we were getting ready to celebrate that night, he sent word that he wanted to see me at a certain barn not far from the school. When I got there he demanded that I help him go through the bedrooms while the fellows were having a good time on the campus and down by the river. I said I wouldn’t do it, and then all of a sudden he hit me on the head and knocked me down. Then he stripped me of my trousers and jacket and tied me fast in one of the disused horse stalls.”
“And you mean to say he used your uniform in stealing into the school?” asked Spouter.
“That’s it. I didn’t know it at the time, because he went to another part of the barn where I couldn’t see him. But later on, when he brought the uniform back, he told me all about it. He thought he had been wonderfully slick.”
“Why didn’t you expose him at once?” demanded Jack.
“He told me that if I exposed him he would tell the authorities that I had planned the whole scheme and that I had done most of the work myself. He said some one had seen him in the uniform scooting from one room to another, so that the report would circulate that some cadet was guilty. He got me so worked up that at last I promised to keep quiet.”
“And had he really robbed your room, too?” demanded Fred.
“Yes. I lost my stuff just as I reported. Oh, you can’t imagine how I felt!” went on Brassy Bangs in a hopeless tone of voice. “Many a time I thought I’d go to Colonel Colby and confess everything. But then I thought they would bring that old charge of barn-burning up against me, as well as the charge of helping in the robbery, and I didn’t have nerve enough to say a word. Oh, I know I was a big fool! I should have faced it out!”
“Wait a minute!” put in Jack suddenly. “Are you pretty sure Haddon, as well as Dusenbury and Jillson, are guilty of making off with the horses that are missing?”
“I am!”
“Well, then, isn’t it possible that those three went to this John Calder’s barn and stole some of the horses and then set fire to the place to cover the theft?”
“By golly, I’ll bet that’s just what they did!” burst out Brassy Bangs. “I remember now that the reports in the newspapers said the fire had been so fierce that the carcasses of the horses had been burnt up completely. They only found some of the bones in the ruins. Oh, if they really did do that!”
“Did Calder have any particularly good horses?”
“Yes, he had a splendid team of matched grays that were worth considerable money. He thought more of the grays than he did of all his other horses put together.”
“I’ll wager a toothpick against a lemon that gang stole the grays before the fire,” declared Andy emphatically.
“The police ought to arrest those three men and put ’em through what they call the third degree,” remarked Gif.
“I’d like to know one other thing,” went on Andy, and now his face showed a slight grin. “What do you know about your Uncle Jarley’s auto running away by itself?”
“Oh, please don’t mention that tin junk wagon!” pleaded Brassy. “I started it, and the blamed thing ran over me, and I was lame for a week.”
“Does your uncle know anything about what Haddon and his crowd are up to?” questioned Jack.
“Not exactly. Although he’s becoming suspicious of the whole gang around the Bimbel place. You know he’s never trusted Bimbel since the man got into difficulty with the authorities several years ago.”
After that the seven boys talked the matter over for half an hour longer. And then the others insisted upon it that Brassy accompany them to the other entrance to the cave, and there all sat down to partake of the lunch brought from Big Horn Ranch.
Brassy appeared much relieved by the confession he had made, and readily answered all the questions put to him. His assertive manner had left him entirely, and he appeared quite humble.
“If he ever gets out of this I’ll bet he’ll be a different fellow,” whispered Randy to Fred.
“I think so myself,” was the reply. “But how he is going to square himself with Colonel Colby remains to be seen. It was a serious piece of business to let Haddon steal all those things from the school and say nothing about it.”
While the boys were eating the storm stopped, and less than an hour later the sun was shining as before.
“I think we might as well be on our way back to the ranch,” remarked Spouter. “The sooner we get there and let our fathers know how matters stand, the better.”
“Don’t you want to go with us, Brassy?” asked Jack.
“If I did that I couldn’t get back to my uncle’s place to-night, and then he’d worry about me. Otherwise I would just as lief go to your place as not. Now that I’ve told you everything I’d like to see the whole matter cleaned up, and quick too.”
“How far is it to your uncle’s ranch?” asked Fred.
“Not over a mile and a half.”
“Then suppose we go there first, and then all of us can strike out for Big Horn Ranch. Maybe your uncle will want to take part in what is going on,” said Jack.
“I wish you would go with me!” cried Brassy eagerly. “I’m afraid my uncle will raise Cain when I tell him the truth.”
“He won’t dare do much when we’re around,” answered Gif. “If he gets too ugly you can clear out and meet us on the way to our place.”
“That’s the talk,” said Randy.
Again there was a discussion, but in the end it was decided that the whole party should lose no time in getting to Jarley Bangs’ ranch. They would explain matters to Brassy’s uncle, and then set out for Songbird Powell’s place.
The campfire was speedily stamped out, and leaping into the saddle, the seven boys set out for the Bangs’ place, Brassy leading the way, with Spouter beside him. It was a wet and dismal ride through the woods, and it is safe to say that Brassy felt every bit as dismal as his surroundings.
“Gee, but I certainly am sorry for him!” whispered Andy to his twin. “He isn’t a fellow that I would cotton to, but he certainly has got himself into a pickle.”
Presently the woods were left behind and they came out on the open prairie. Here the sun shone brightly, and the trail was drying rapidly. They urged their steeds into a gallop, and in a short while came in sight of the Jarley Bangs’ outfit.
As they rode up they saw Jarley Bangs come from the ranch house and move swiftly toward one of the stables where the horses were kept. He was evidently in a hurry and much excited.
“Hello! where have you been?” he demanded of his nephew. “Where did you pick up these chaps?”
“I met ’em during the storm over at Twin Caves,” answered Brassy.
“It’s a wonder you wouldn’t stay around the house once in a while,” grumbled Jarley Bangs. “If you would, maybe I wouldn’t be losing things.”
“Losing things! What do you mean, Uncle Jarley?” questioned the nephew quickly.
“What do I mean?” stormed the ranch owner. “Do you know what has happened since you went away?”
“No.”
“Well, then, I’ll tell you! Two of our best horses have been stolen! Right out of the stable, too!” exclaimed Jarley Bangs wrathfully. “Duster and old Whitehead!”
“Stolen!” came from all of the boys simultaneously.
“Yes, stolen! Nobody saw ’em taken, but they’re gone, and not a man on the ranch was near ’em!”
“I’ll wager that’s more of Bud Haddon’s work,” declared Jack quickly.
“But he wasn’t here – he was over at the caves,” returned Fred.
“Well, if he didn’t do it, then some members of his gang did,” put in Randy.
“I’m going to have the law on somebody for this!” stormed Jarley Bangs. “Too many horses in this neighborhood have been stolen. I’m going to visit some of the other ranchmen and notify the sheriff, and see if we can’t raise a posse to run down the rascals.”
“That’s the way to talk, Mr. Bangs!” cried Spouter. “And we know just what gang to go after.”
CHAPTER XXX
THE CAPTURE – CONCLUSION
Less than an hour later found the whole party, including Jarley Bangs, on the way to Big Horn Ranch.
Brassy’s uncle had listened with keen interest to the story his nephew and the other lads had to relate. He had interrupted a number of times to ask questions, and at the finish of the recital had held up both hands in disgust.
“You’re a bigger fool than I ever thought you were, Lester,” he had told his nephew. “Why in thunder didn’t you tell your folks and me all about this just as soon as it happened? We could have set a trap for those rascals and caught ’em easy.”
“But, Uncle Jarley, remember how I was tied up in that Colby Hall affair!” Brassy had pleaded.
“I don’t believe Colonel Colby would hold you responsible for that – not after he’d made a thorough investigation. But that ain’t here nor there. What we want to do now is to grab those fellows before they’ve a chance to make a get-away. I’d just like to ketch ’em with Duster and Whitehead in their possession! I think I could find enough old-timers around here to hand all of ’em a rope,” and Jarley Bangs’ eyes had flashed with a fire that was anything but agreeable.
The Rover boys and their chums had thought to take the regular trail leading back to Big Horn Ranch, but Jarley Bangs told them he knew of a shorter way.
“We can cut off over a mile,” said he. “And I reckon the quicker we get a posse out the better.”
“Don’t you suppose we can round them up around Bimbel’s ranch almost any time?” queried Spouter.
“Maybe, and maybe not. We’d probably be able to get the others, but Haddon, Dusenbury and Jillson come and go. Sometimes they’re here, and sometimes in Omaha and Chicago.”
“Perhaps that’s where they disposed of their stolen horses,” suggested Jack.
“More’n likely.”
Jarley Bangs had armed himself with a double-barreled shotgun, and he rode in advance with Spouter at his side and the others close behind.
The way lay across a stretch of prairie and then into the edge of the woods bordering the river. The party had just gained the water’s edge and were looking for a good fording place when Brassy suddenly uttered an exclamation.
“Look up the river, will you? There are those men now! And see! they are leading a couple of horses!”
“Get back out of sight, quick!” ordered Jarley Bangs. And in a few seconds all were behind the bushes which at that point lined the river.
“Why, they’re heading almost straight for Big Horn Ranch!” exclaimed Spouter excitedly.
“They’re going to follow the old river trail,” announced Jarley Bangs. “More’n likely they’ll take to the lower trail when they reach the forks.”
“Can’t we head ’em off and capture ’em?” questioned Fred.
“I think we can. Anyhow, we can try,” was Jarley Bangs’ answer.
The old ranchman made a swift mental calculation and then directed the boys to follow him to a fording place a little further down the river. Once on the other side of the watercourse, he urged his steed forward at topmost speed in the direction of another patch of timber further southward.
“They wouldn’t dare take the upper trail,” he told the lads. “For that would take ’em too close to Big Horn. They’ll come this way, I’m almost certain.”
It was not easy riding on a trail which was used but seldom. Nevertheless, the lads hurried after the old ranchman as well as they could. They wound in and out over some rough rocks and up a small hill, and presently emerged upon a much better trail.
“Here is where they ought to pass,” announced Jarley Bangs. “Now then, we’ll put our horses in the thicket and then see what we can do toward pocketing ’em when they come.”
The old ranchman had seen strenuous times in his younger days, and he seemed to know exactly what to do. He divided the boys into two groups, placing them on either side of the winding and rocky road.
“Now if you have to shoot, shoot high so as not to hit anybody on the other side,” was his warning. “But maybe we can get ’em without firing a shot,” he went on.
Brassy was armed with a small rifle, and he insisted upon remaining in the roadway with his uncle. The other lads with their pistols and guns were placed in advantageous positions behind nearby rocks and trees.
The arrangement was scarcely completed when they heard the tramp of horses’ hoofs over the somewhat rocky trail, and in a minute more Bud Haddon came into view, followed by Jillson and Dusenbury, all on horseback and each of the latter leading an extra steed.
“Throw up your hands!” shouted Jarley Bangs, as the horsemen came closer, and he leveled his shotgun full at Haddon’s head, while Brassy covered Dusenbury with his rifle. The boys behind the rocks and trees covered all three men as well as they were able.
The three rascals had not anticipated such a meeting, and, seeing the guns leveled at them, not only from the front but also from the sides, three pairs of hands went up almost as one.
“It’s Bangs!” murmured the man named Dusenbury. “I reckon the jig is up.”
“Don’t dare to budge or I’ll blow somebody’s head off!” roared Jarley Bangs. And he looked as if he meant what he said.
“You’ve got the drop on me, and I ain’t moving,” answered Bud Haddon surlily.
“Hi, Powell! Come out here, will you?” went on Brassy Bangs’ uncle. And then, as Spouter came from the bushes with rifle in hand, he continued. “Go up there and take every one of their guns away from ’em.”
As soon as they had been disarmed the three rascals were told to dismount and stand in a line along the side of the road. Then, as the boys confronted them, Jarley Bangs went through their pockets once more to make sure that no weapon had been overlooked.
“Fine piece of business, to run away with my horses!” exclaimed the old ranch owner, and he jerked his head in the direction of the two animals the men had been leading.
With their hands tied in front of them, the men were made to remount, and then the entire party lost no time in heading for Big Horn Ranch.
“I’ll fix you for this!” hissed Haddon at Brassy when he got the chance.
“You do your worst!” retorted the boy. “I’m not afraid of you any more.”
Of course, there was great excitement at the ranch when the crowd came in with the three prisoners. The story of what had happened was quickly circulated, and Joe Jackson and a number of the cowboys were called in from the ranges. One of the cowboys was sent off to notify a deputy sheriff of what had occurred and of what the ranch owners expected to do, and two other cowboys were started off to notify the owners of other ranches in that vicinity.
As a consequence early the next morning a posse consisting of twelve men headed for Bimbel’s ranch. Of course, the boys wanted to go along, but they were forced to remain behind, much to their chagrin.
“You might get shot,” said Songbird Powell. “And, besides that, you have had glory enough, helping to catch these three rascals,” and he smiled faintly.
The affair at Bimbel’s was rather a strenuous one. Jenks and Noxley, as well as Bimbel, tried to escape, and Noxley was shot in the leg. The fellow thought he was going to die, and while waiting for the doctor to come and attend him he made a full confession concerning the stealing of many of the horses in that neighborhood. He said that Bud Haddon was at the head of the gang and that Haddon, with Jillson and Dusenbury, were in the habit of disposing of the animals either at Omaha or Chicago, although one or two steeds, including one belonging to the former owners of Big Horn Ranch had been sent further east.
“I guess it was one of the early thefts that took Haddon to Haven Point,” declared Jack, and in that surmise he was correct.
With this evidence against them, Haddon, Jillson and Dusenbury were submitted to a severe gruelling, each being examined separately. Finally Dusenbury broke down completely and admitted that he and the other two had fired John Calder’s barn after stealing his noted pair of gray horses. The horses had been shipped out of town, and were later on recovered, as were also Mr. Powell’s Blackbird and several other of the animals.
When Bud Haddon’s effects were examined many pawn tickets were discovered, and following up the clues thus afforded Colonel Colby managed to get back many of the articles stolen from the school. These included Professor Duke’s heirloom watch and a number of the things lost by our friends.
At first it was thought that Brassy might be prosecuted, but when Bud Haddon was brought to trial for the thefts the State used the youth as a witness against the fellow, and consequently Brassy was allowed to go free. He, however, received a stern lecture from Colonel Colby and was then told that he had better not return to the Hall.
“I don’t think I want to come back,” said Brassy. “A whole lot of the fellows would never forgive me for what I did.” And in this surmise he was probably correct. Brassy returned to his uncle’s ranch, and that was the last heard of him for a long time.
With the mystery of the robbery at Colby Hall and of the missing horses cleared up, the Rover boys and all the other young folks at Big Horn Ranch turned their attention once more to having a good time. Sam Rover went back to New York to take charge of the offices in Wall Street, and that gave Dick Rover and his wife a chance to come out and pay the ranch a visit.
“We’ve certainly had some strenuous times here,” remarked Jack one day.
And he was right. But other strenuous times were still in store for the lads, and what some of these were will be related in the next volume, to be entitled, “The Rover Boys at Big Bear Lake; or, The Camps of the Rival Cadets.”
“Big Horn Ranch is a delightful place,” said Ruth. “I never thought a spot where they raised cattle could be so interesting.”
“Is your father going to stay out here and become a regular ranchman, Spouter?” questioned Fred.
“I don’t know about that,” answered the ranch owner’s son. “He’ll stay here for a while, anyway. He likes it better and better every day.”
“I dink some day I got me a ranch mineself alreatty,” remarked Hans Mueller. “Den I could raise all mine own meats for mine delicatessen stores, not so?” and he smiled complacently.
“Come on, boys, let’s get on horseback and have a race!” cried Andy, as he came up from finishing a game of lawn tennis with Mary.
“I’m with you,” answered Fred, who had been playing a game of croquet with May and some of the others.
“All right! A horseback race it is!” cried Jack.
“An extra piece of cake to the boy who wins!” shouted his sister Martha after him.
“Hurrah! Me for that piece of cake!” came from every one of the boys assembled.
And here, while they are running down to the corral pell-mell to get on their horses for a gallop across the prairie, we will leave them and say good-bye.
