Part 13 (2/2)
Chet realized he could not pit his strength against three men, judo or no judo. So he quit struggling. Instead he hollered again at the top of his voice.
”Shut up, yo' blubberhead!” Hank growled. ”Take him away, men!”
Suddenly the door of the bunkhouse burst open. Frank and Joe rushed in, followed by the singing cowboy.
”Stop!” Frank shouted, seeing his friend about to be kicked by the bellowing foreman.
132.
133 Hank wheeled. ”Yo' stay out o' this!” he snapped at the Hardy boy. ”This fat greaser threw mes an' I'm goin' to pay him off!”
”Don't do that, boss,” Terry pleaded. ”Yo might hurt him.”
”Mind yore own business,” the foreman glowered, rus.h.i.+ng at Frank. ”These kids got no business in the bunkhouse!”
Hank's right hand lashed out at Frank's face. But before it could find its mark the boy grasped Hank's wrist in a vicelike hold.
In a split second the place was in an uproar. Joe rushed at m.u.f.f. As he unloosed his hold on the stout boy, Chet tangled with Red.
Arms and legs flew as the Hardys and Chet put all of their judo lessons to practical use.
One thud followed another.
Terry stood by, openmouthed. Never before had he seen such a spectacle. Three hardened ranchmen were being set upon by a trio of striplings from the city, and were being beaten. It was unbelievable!
When the smoke of battle cleared, the three cowboys lay in grotesque poses. Hank was draped over a cot. The other two sat on the floor, reclining on their elbows, their legs stretched out V-shaped in front of them.
”Sh.o.r.e is a funny sight,” drawled Terry.
134 All of the sc.r.a.p was gone from Hank and his henchmen. They pulled themselves to their feet and limped out the back door of the bunkhouse. As Hank left, he turned around and pointed a finger at the boys.
”I'll get yo' for this!” he muttered. ”I'm boss around here!”
Terry looked worried. ”Hank's a bad actor when he's got a grudge,” he said. ”I'm warnin'
yo' to be keerful o' him.”
Suddenly the singing cowboy's mood changed. He reached for his ”gee-tar” from his bunk and strummed the instrument. His face broke into a broad smile.
”Listen to this.” He grinned. ”I'll sing it at the next roundup.”
Terry struck a few chords. Then, raising his head high, he burst out: ” Thar was a city slicker Thar was a city slicker Dared grab hold o'foreman Hank.
Oh, ,yippee, oh!
Now the city kid was quicker, He had his wits to thank.
So foreman Hank went flyin'
Right clean through the air.
Aye,yi,yah!
Fll remember 'til I'm dyin', His sad look of beat despair!”
135 ”Swell!” Joe exclaimed, laughing. ”Only I'd advise you not to let Hank hear it.”
”How can you make up that stuff so quick?” Chet put in.
Terry scratched his head. ”Guess it just comes to me off the range,” he answered.
The crooning cowboy remarked that it was time he got started on his ch.o.r.es. The boys walked as far as the corral gate with him, then went toward the house.
”That was nice going, Chet,” Frank said, slapping the budding judo artist on the back.
”Maybe Hank won't bother us for a while, even with his threats.”
”What started the fracas?” Joe asked.
Chet toid about the telephone conversation which had ended with a reference to the boys from Bay-port, and Hank was not going to do something so long as they were at Crowhead. Frank and Joe scowled.
”So maybe,” Chet brightened, ”nothing will happen to us while we're here.”
”I wouldn't count on that,” Joe said.
”Not after yesterday,” Frank said. ”By the ways we ought to track down that clue.”
”Which one?” Joe asked.
”The arrowhead,” Frank replied. ”The one that nearly hit me in the woods.”
136 ”What you going to do with it?” Chet wanted to know.
”I think the tip may contain poison,” Frank replied. ”Come on, we'll take a look at it.”
Joe and Chet followed him to the brothers' room, where Frank had cached the white-feathered arrow. 'He dipped the tip in a saucer of water for a few seconds, then carefully carried the saucer onto the porch.
A fly buzzed around the water, then settled down to investigate. When it touched the water, the insect keeled over dead!
”Just as I thought!” Frank declared. ”But to make sure, I'm going to take the arrow to Santa Fe for a.n.a.lysis.”
Frank told his cousin Ruth what he had in mind, then put in a long-distance call to the young pilot who had flown them to Crowhead. Winger happened to be free and promised to come for them at once.
At noon the drone of a plane was heard over the ranch. Winger landed alongside the ranch house and the boys ran to meet him. Frank got in, carrying the arrow wrapped in waxed paper. His brother and Chet followed. Hank saw them from a distance. A queer smile tugged at the corners of his hard mouth.
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