The Pony Rider Boys in Texas

F >> Frank Gee Patchin >> The Pony Rider Boys in Texas

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

The pony, which had been staked down well out on the plain, was now
moving about restlessly.

"I wonder if the noises are getting on the broncho's nerves, too?
There's nothing here to be afraid of. I'm not afraid," declared Tad
firmly, rising and pacing back and forth.

He was relieved, just the same, when the big cowman rode back, an hour
later, and took up the vigil with him. The two talked in subdued tones
as they walked back and forth, the lad expressing the opinion that they
would find Stacy unharmed when they once discovered the mysterious place
into which he had unwittingly stumbled.

"You see, those walls are so thick that we couldn't hear him even if he
did call out. He may even have gotten in where they buried those monks
we've heard about. I hope not, though."

"He wouldn't know it," said Big-foot.

"No, probably not in the darkness. Did you bring that lantern?"

"Pshaw! I forgot it. Mebby I'd better go back and get it."

"No; never mind, Big-foot. The moon will be up after a time. Then we
shall not need it. You are going in for the ten-thirty trick, are you
not?"

"That's what the boss said," replied Big-foot.

The right section of the herd was now bedded within a short distance of
the church. They could hear the singing of the cowboys as they circled
slowly around the sleeping cattle.

"Guess we are not going to have any more trouble with them," said Tad,
nodding toward the herd.

"Don't be too sure. I feel it coming. I have a feeling that trouble
ain't more'n a million miles away at this very minute."

"I wish you wouldn't talk that way. You'll get me feeling creepy, first
thing you know. I've got to stay here all night," said Tad.

Big-foot laughed. They passed the time as best they could until the hour
for the departure of the cowboy arrived. Then Tad was left alone once
more. He circled about the church, listening. Once he thought he heard
the hoof-beats of a pony. But the sound died away instantly, and he
believed he must have been wrong.

After half an hour Big-foot returned. The foreman had decided, so long
as the cattle were quiet, to have him remain with Tad. If the cowboy
should be needed in a hurry the foreman was to fire a shot in the air as
a signal.

Tad was intensely pleased at this arrangement. After chatting a while
they lay down on the ground, speaking only occasionally, and then in low
tones. The mystery of the night seemed to have awed them into silent
thought. They had lain there for some time, when Tad suddenly rose on
one elbow.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"Yes," breathed the cowman.

"What--what do you think it was?"

"Sounded as if some one had jumped to the ground. We'd better crawl up
there. It was by the church. I told you it was coming."

"Do you suppose it was Chunky?"

"No. He'd be afraid of the dark. You'd hear him yelling for help."

Tad had his doubts of that; but, just the same, he, too, felt that the
noise they had heard had not been made by Stacy Brown. A silence of
several minutes followed. The two had crawled only a few feet toward the
church, when, with one common impulse, they flattened themselves on the
ground and listened.

Now they could distinctly hear some one cautiously moving about in front
of the church. It seemed to Tad as if the mysterious intruder were
standing on the broad stone flagging at the top of the steps leading
into the adobe church.

Tad slowly rose to his feet.

"Who's there?" he cried in a voice that trembled a little.

A sudden commotion followed the question, and the listeners distinctly
caught the sound of footsteps on the flagging.

A flash lighted the scene momentarily.

Big-foot had fired a shot toward the church. A slight scream followed
almost instantly.

"I winged it!" shouted the cowman, lifting his weapon for another shot.

Tad struck the gun up. The lad was excited now.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Don't do that again. Do you want to kill
somebody?"

With that Tad ran, his feet fairly flying over the ground, in the
direction of the church steps. In the flash of the gun he had caught a
glimpse of a figure standing there. The sight thrilled him through and
through.

As the plucky lad reached the steps some one started to run down them.
Tripping, the unknown plunged headlong to the ground.

The boy was beside the figure in an instant.

"Big-foot!" he shouted.

The cowman came tearing up to him.

"What is it?" he bellowed in his excitement.

"It's a woman, Big-foot! It's a woman! Oh, I hope you did not hit her!"

"It's no woman; it's a spook. I know it's a spook!" fairly shouted the
cowboy.

"I tell you it's a woman!" cried Tad.

He was down on his knees by her side now, raising her head.

"Get help--_quick_!"

Sanders took the shortest way of doing this. He, too, was alarmed now.
Raising his gun above his head, he pulled the trigger three times in
quick succession. As many sharp flashes leaped into the air, and as many
quick reports followed.

"Sure she ain't a spirit?" demanded the cowman, peering down
suspiciously, fearfully. He could make out the form on the ground but
dimly.

"Don't be foolish. Run out there and meet them. I hear the ponies
coming. Don't let any of them use their guns, in the excitement, or some
one may get hurt," warned Tad Butler, with rare judgment.

Big-foot hurried out into the open. In the meantime Tad stroked the face
and head of the woman. She was unconscious, but her flesh seemed warm to
his touch.

"I wonder what it means," the perplexed boy asked himself. Tad could
feel his own pulses beating against his temples. It seemed to him as if
all the blood in his body were hurling itself against them.

Cowboys on their ponies came thundering up from different directions. In
the lead was Bob Stallings, the foreman of the outfit.

"You idiots!" he shouted. "Do you want to stampede the herd again? What
do you mean?"

"I've winged a spook!" yelled Big-foot Sanders. "She's over there by the
steps now. The kid's got her."

"Spook--nonsense!" snapped the foreman, leaping from his pony and
rushing to the spot indicated by Big-foot.

"What----" chorused the cowboys.

"Is it the boy--have they found him?"

"If you all don't insist on talking at once, mebby we can find out what
the row's about," snarled Curley Adams.

The foreman stopped suddenly as he observed Tad sitting at the foot of
the church steps. He saw, too, another form there, but it was so dimly
outlined in the deep shadows that he was unable to make it out.

"What does this mean?" he demanded sternly.

"I don't know. It's a woman. I'm afraid Big-foot's bullet hit her. We
must have a light."

"Bring matches!" roared the foreman.

No one had any.

"Rustle for the camp, and fetch a lantern--and be quick about it! I've
had enough of this fooling. What was she doing--how did it happen?"

Tad explained as clearly as he could how they had been disturbed by the
strange noises, resulting finally in a shot from Big-foot's gun.

"The idiot! It'll be a sorry day for him if he's done any damage,"
growled the foreman. He stooped over and ran his hand over the
unconscious woman's face. Then he applied his ear to the region of the
heart.

"Huh!" he snapped, rising.

"Find anything!" asked Tad in a half whisper.

"She's alive. Heart weak, but I don't think she's seriously hurt. I
don't understand it at all."

"No more do I. I'm getting dizzy over all this rapid-fire business,"
added the lad. "There they come with a light."

Stallings strode to the cowman who had brought the lantern. Jerking it
from the man's hand the foreman ran back.

"We'll straighten her up against the steps, and try to find out how
badly she is hurt," he said, placing the lantern on the ground.

Tad had partially raised her, when he let the girl drop with a sudden,
startled exclamation.

"What is it?" demanded Stallings incisively.

"It's Miss Ruth!"

"Who?"

"Miss Ruth----"

By the dim lantern light the foreman saw her face outlined against the
dark background of green. His eyes were fixed upon her, and Bob
Stallings seemed scarcely to breathe.

"Ruth Brayton!" he gasped.

"Yes," answered Tad in a low voice, not fully comprehending the meaning
of the scene that was being enacted before him.

"Ruth Brayton," repeated Stallings, slowly passing a hand across his
forehead. "Ruth!" he cried, throwing himself to his knees beside her.

"I tell ye I winged a spook," insisted Big-foot Sanders to a companion
as they came up.

Tad raised a warning hand for silence.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

"Get back to that herd!" commanded the foreman sharply. "All of you!
Tad, you stay with me. The girl has fallen and struck her head on the
flagging. I don't think she is seriously hurt."

Not understanding the meaning of it all, the cowmen drew back and
slouched to their ponies. Most of them were off duty at the time, so
they took their way back to camp to be ready for whatever emergency
might arise.

Not a man of them spoke until they had staked their ponies and seated
themselves around the camp-fire. Such a silence was unusual among the
cowboys. Ned and Walter, who had followed them in, were standing aside,
equally silent and thoughtful.

Shorty Savage was the first to speak.

"What's it all about? That's what I'd like to know," he asked.

"You won't find out from me," answered Curley.

"Big-foot thinks he winged a spook," said a voice.

"Allee samee," chuckled Pong, who had been taking in the scene with
mouth and eyes agape.

Big-foot fixed him with a baneful eye.

"I said I'd forget you were the cook some day," said he. "I'm forgetting
it, now, faster'n a broncho can run!"

Pong's pigtail bobbed up and down like the streaming neckkerchief of a
cowboy in saddle as he dived for the protection of the trail wagon.

"I reckon he can understand king's English when he wants to," laughed
Shorty. "Now how about that spook, Big-foot?"

Sanders stood up, hitched his trousers and tightened his belt a notch.

"Reckon we've all gone plumb daffy, fellows. I'm the champeen dummy of
the bunch."

The cowpunchers laughed heartily.

"But was she a spook?" persisted Shorty.

"She were not. She were a woman--a friend of the boss."

Shorty whistled.

"Lucky for me I missed her. I was rattled, or I'd never taken that
shot."

"Who is she?" asked Curley.

"One of the young women from the Ox Bow. It gets me what she was doing
in that spook place alone at night. I----"

"W-o-w!"

The exclamation was uttered by a familiar voice, at the sound of which
the cowmen sprang to their feet.

"It's the gopher!" they cried.

"Chunky!" shouted Ned and Walter, running forward with a yell.

"I fell in," wailed the fat boy.

At sight of him the cowboys yelled with merriment. Chunky's clothes were
torn. He was covered with dirt from head to foot, and his face was so
grimy as to be scarcely recognizable.

Big-foot was staring at him in amazement. Striding forward, he grasped
the lad roughly by the shoulder, jerking him into the full light of the
camp-fire.

"Where you been, gopher?" he demanded sternly.

"I fell in," stammered the boy.

"Where?"

"Some kind of a well. It was in the bushes just outside the back door. I
went there to hide. I fell down to the bottom and went to sleep."

"Just like him. Have anything to eat down there?" jeered Ned Rector.

"When I woke up it was dark. Then I found another hole--a passage. It
went both ways. Guess one end went under the church. I followed it the
other way, and came out near where the steers are bedded down."

"Hold on a minute. Let's get this straight," interrupted Curley. "You
mean you found an underground passage at the bottom of the old well? Is
that it?"

Chunky nodded.

"And the opening was near the spring at the point of rocks just above
the herd?"

"Yes. But I had to dig out through a brush heap."

"Huh! Not such a terrible mystery, after all," sniffed Curley
contemptuously.

"How came that underground passage there? What's it for?" asked
Big-foot.

"Probably dug out in Indian times. I'll bet it has saved the scalp of
more than one old fellow. There's an opening into it from the church
somewhere, you can depend upon that. I'm thinking, too, that the well
was a bluff--that it wasn't intended for water at all. We'll smash the
mystery of the adobe church before we pull out of here to-morrow, see if
we don't."

"I come mighty near doing for one of them," added Big-foot Sanders
ruefully.

"Got anything to eat?" interrupted Stacy Brown.

"For goodness' sake, boys, take your fat friend over to the chuck wagon
and fill him up. He's like a Mexican steer--he'll bed down safer when
he's full of supper."

* * * * *

In the meantime, another scene was being enacted off at the Ox Bow
ranch--a scene that was to add still another chapter to the romance of
the trail.

Tad Butler was sitting alone in the darkness on the steps of the McClure
mansion. The boy, chin in hands, was lost in thought. Stallings had
carried Ruth Brayton in his arms all the way to the ranch where she had
soon revived.

After leaving her, the foreman and Colonel McClure had locked themselves
in the library, where they remained in consultation for more than an
hour.

"How is Miss Ruth?" asked the boy eagerly, when Stallings finally came
out.

"Better than in many months," answered the foreman. There was a new note
in his voice.

"I'm so glad," breathed Tad.

"Old man," began Stallings, slapping Tad on the shoulder, "come along
with me. We'll lead our ponies back to camp and talk. I presume you are
aching to know what all this mystery means?" laughed the foreman.

"Naturally, I am a bit curious," admitted Tad.

"It means, Pinto, that not only have you rendered a great service to Mr.
Miller and his herd, but you have done other things as well."

"I've mixed things up pretty well, I guess."

"No. You have solved a riddle, and made me the happiest man in the Lone
Star State. Miss Brayton and I have known each other almost since
childhood. When I was in Yale----"

"You a college man!" exclaimed Tad in surprise.

"Yes. We were engaged. My people were quite wealthy; but, in a panic,
some years ago, father lost everything, dying soon after. Miss Brayton's
family then refused their consent to our marriage. I determined to seek
my fortune in the growing West. My full name is Robert Stallings
Hamilton, though I never had used the middle name until I adopted it
when I became a cowboy. But to return to Miss Brayton. Ruth was taken to
Europe, and then sent to her uncle here. Her trouble preyed on her mind
to such an extent that she grew 'queer.' She had heard that I was a
cattle man, somewhere in the West. Strangely enough, when in her moods,
she developed a strong antipathy to herds of cattle. Whenever a herd was
near, Ruth would slip from the house and steal away to them in the
night, A stampede usually followed. It's a wonder she wasn't shot.
Whether or not she caused these intentionally, Ruth does not know----"

"And that is the mystery?" asked Tad.

"Yes."

"It is the strangest story I ever heard," said the boy quietly.

"What I was about to say, is that the herd will go on without me.
Colonel McClure is sending his own foreman through with it instead. Ruth
and I are to be married at once, and we shall go to my little ranch in
Montana."

In view of the fact that Stallings was severing his connection with the
herd, Professor Zepplin decided to do likewise.

Next morning, at sunrise, Bob Stallings, with Miss Ruth, by his side,
both radiantly happy, rode out to the camp. The Pony Rider Boys had
packed their kits and loaded their belongings on their ponies.
Regretfully they bade good-bye to the cowmen.

Tad's parting with Big-foot was most trying. In the short time they had
been together, a strong affection had grown up between the two. The
plainsman had been quick to perceive Tad's manly qualities, and the boy,
in his turn, had been won by the big, generous nature of the man. They
parted, each vowing that they must see each other again.

As the great herd moved slowly northward, three cheers were proposed for
Bob Stallings and Miss Brayton. This the cowboys gave with a will,
adding a tiger for the Pony Rider Boys.

The trail wagon, pulling out at the same time, held a grinning Chinaman,
huddled in the rear.

"Good-bye, Pong!" shouted the lads.

"Allee samee," chuckled the cook, shaking hands with himself
enthusiastically.

And here for a time we will take leave of the Pony Rider Boys, whose
further exciting experiences will be chronicled in the next volume,
entitled: "The Pony Rider Boys in Montana; Or, the Mystery of
the Old Custer Trail." This will be a story of adventure, full of
absorbing interest and thrilling incidents. The reader will then go over
the same trails that General Custer rode in the wilder days.

The End.

* * * * *

HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S

CATALOGUE OF

The Best and Least Expensive Books For Real Boys and Girls

THESE FASCINATING VOLUMES WILL INTEREST BOYS AND GIRLS OF EVERY AGE
UNDER SIXTY

Sold by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price

Henry Altemus Company
507-513 CHERRY STREET
PHILADELPHIA

The Motor Boat Club Series By H. Irving Hancock

The keynote of these books is manliness. The stories are wonderfully
entertaining, and they are at the same time sound and wholesome. The
plots are ingenious, the action swift, and the moral tone wholly
healthful. No boy will willingly lay down an unfinished book in this
series, at the same time he will form a taste for good literature and
the glory of right living.

The Motor Boat Club of the Kennebec; Or, The Secret of Smugglers' Island.

The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket; Or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir.

The Motor Boat Club off Long Island; Or, A Daring Marine Game at Racing
Speed.

The Motor Boat Club and the Wireless; Or, The Dot, Dash and Dare Cruise.

The Motor Boat Club in Florida; Or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp.

The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; Or, A Thrilling Capture in the
Great Fog.

SUBMARINE BOYS SERIES

By Victor G. Durham

These splendid books for boys and girls deal with life aboard submarine
torpedo boats, and with the adventures of the young crew, who, by
degrees, become most expert in this most wonderful and awe-inspiring
field of modern naval practice. The books are written by an expert and
possess, in addition to the author's surpassing knack of story-telling,
a great educational value for all young readers.

The Submarine Boys on Duty; Or, Life on a Diving Torpedo Boat.

The Submarine Boys' Trial Trip; Or, "Making Good" as Young Experts.

The Submarine Boys and the Middies; Or, The Prize Detail at Annapolis.

The Submarine Boys and the Spies; Or, Dodging the Sharks of the Deep.

The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise; Or, The Young Kings of the Deep.

The Submarine Boys for the Flag; Or, Deeding Their Lives to Uncle Sam.

PONY RIDER BOYS SERIES

By Frank Gee Patchin

These tales may be aptly described as those of a new Cooper. As the
earlier novelist depicted the first days of the advancing frontier, so
does Mr. Patchin deal charmingly and realistically with what is left of
the strenuous outdoor West of the twentieth century. In every sense they
belong to the best class of books for boys.

The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Lost Claim.

The Pony Rider Boys in Texas; Or, The Veiled Riddle of the Plains.

The Pony Rider Boys in Montana; Or, The Mystery of the Old Custer Trail.

The Pony Rider Boys in the Ozarks; Or, The Secret of Ruby Mountain.

The Pony Rider Boys on the Alkali; Or, Finding a Key to the Desert Maze.

The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico; Or, The End of the Silver Trail.

High School Boys Series

By H. Irving Hancock

In this series of bright, crisp books a new note has been struck.

Boys of every age under sixty will be interested in these fascinating
volumes.

The High School Freshmen; Or, Dick & Co's First Year Pranks and Sports.

The High School Pitcher; Or, Dick & Co. on the Gridley Diamond.

The High School Left End; Or, Dick & Co. Grilling on the Football
Gridiron.

The High School Captain of the Team; Or, Dick & Co. Leading the Athletic
Vanguard.

Grammar School Boys Series

By H. Irving Hancock

This series of stories, based on the actual doings of grammar school
boys comes near to the heart of the average American boy.

The Grammar School Boys of Gridley; Or, Dick & Co. Start Things Moving.

The Grammar School Boys Snowbound; Or, Dick & Co. at Winter Sports.

The Grammar School Boys in the Woods; Or, Dick & Co. Trail Fun and
Knowledge.

The Grammar School Boys in Summer Athletics; Or, Dick & Co. Make Their
Fame Secure.

West Point Series

By H. Irving Hancock

The principal characters in these narratives are two sound, wholesome,
manly young Americans who go strenuously through their four years of
cadetship. Their doings will prove an inspiration to all American boys.

Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point; Or, Two Chums in the Cadet
Gray.

Dick Prescott's Second Year at West Point; Or, Finding the Glory of the
Soldier's Life.

Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point; Or, Standing Firm for Flag and
Honor.

Dick Prescott's Fourth Year at West Point; Or, Ready to Drop the Gray for
Shoulder Straps.

Annapolis Series

By H. Irving Hancock

The Spirit of the new Navy is delightfully and truthfully depicted in
these volumes.

Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis; Or, Two Plebe Midshipmen at the
U. S. Naval Academy.

Dave Darrin's Second Year at Annapolis; Or, Two Midshipmen as Naval
Academy "Youngsters."

Dave Darrin's Third Year at Annapolis; Or, Leaders of the Second Class
Midshipmen.

Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis; Or Headed for Graduation and the
Big Cruise.

Boys of the Army Series

By H. Irving Hancock

These books breathe the life and spirit of the United States Army of
to-day, and the life, just as it is, is described by a master-pen.

Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks; Or, Two Recruits in the United States
Army.

Uncle Sam's Boys on Field Duty; Or, Winning Corporal's Chevrons.

Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants; Or, Handling Their First Real Commands.

Battleship Boys Series

By Frank Gee Patchin

These stories throb with the life of young Americans on today's huge
drab Dreadnaughts.

The Battleship Boys at Sea; Or, Two Apprentices in Uncle Sam's Navy.

The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward; Or, Winning Their Grades as Petty
Officers.

The Battleship Boys in Foreign Service; Or, Earning New Ratings in
European Seas.

The Circus Boys Series

By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON

Mr. Darlington is known to all real circus people along every route that
big and little shows travel. His books breathe forth every phase of an
intensely interesting and exciting life.

THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS; Or, Making the Start in the
Sawdust Life.

THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT; Or, Winning New Laurels on the
Tanbark.

THE CIRCUS BOYS IN DIXIE LAND; Or, Winning the Plaudits of the Sunny
South.

The High School Girls Series

By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M.

These breezy stories of the American High School Girl take the reader
fairly by storm.

GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; Or The Merry Doings of the
Oakdale Freshmen Girls.

GRACE HARLOWE'S SOPHOMORE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; Or, The Record of the
Girl Chums in Work and Athletics.

GRACE HARLOWE'S JUNIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; Or, Fast Friends in the
Sororities.

GRACE HARLOWE'S SENIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; Or, The Parting of the
Ways.

The Automobile Girls Series

By LAURA DENT CRANE

No girl's library--no family book-case can be considered at all complete
unless it contains these sparkling twentieth-century books, written for
present-day girls.

THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT NEWPORT; Or, Watching the Summer Parade.

THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS IN THE BERKSHIRES; Or, The Ghost of Lost Man's
Trail.

THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS ALONG THE HUDSON; Or, Fighting Fire in Sleepy
Hollow.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11