Part 4 (1/2)
Bud started from the room.
”You aren't going to take the trail to-night, are you?” asked his father.
”Why not?” demanded Bud. ”The longer we wait the better lead they'll have on us.”
”I know, but you can't do anything in the dark.”
”Yes, we can!” cried Bud. ”Come on, boys!” he called to his cousins.
”It won't be the first time we've ridden a trail at night. Please pack us up a little grub,” he called to his mother and sister.
”Oh, Bud, I hate to have you go,” said Ma Merkel.
”Can't be helped!” he laughingly a.s.sured her. ”We'll be back in a little while, unless we get on the trail of these chaps and run 'em down. While the grub is being packed, Dad, tell us just how they got in and frisked your safe.”
”Well, they just naturally got in the back door while we were all out in front watching you boys ride off after those who put up a game to draw us out,” was the answer. ”When we went back in the house, after you'd gone, I saw my safe open and a lot of papers scattered about.
The combination is very simple. What little money was in it--not much--was taken, and the Spur Creek deeds.”
”Well, we'll get 'em back!” cried Bud. ”On the trail, fellows!”
And catching up bundles of hastily prepared ”snacks,” the boy ranchers started on the trail after the thieves, for much depended on their success and an early start was essential.
Bud and his cousins had not ridden far beyond the corral when they heard behind them shouts of:
”Wait a minute! Wait! Come back!”
”What's up now?” questioned Bud, drawing rein.
CHAPTER IV
AROUND THE CAMPFIRE
Naturally impatient, the boy ranchers did not want to return once they had started on the trail of the robbers. They thought they should be allowed to rush off, and perhaps they had an idea they could soon ”meet up” with the suspects and bring them back. But Mr. Merkel and the other ranchmen, as well as the veteran cowboys, had no such delusions.
However, this was no time to discourage impetuous youth.
”What's the matter, Dad?” asked Bud, as he recognized his father's voice among those bidding him and his cousins to return. ”Has someone telephoned in that they've rounded up the thieves?”
No surprise need be occasioned when I speak of telephones in connection with ranching in the far west. Times have changed since the early days of the buffalo and Indians. Both are almost extinct, though the Indians have lasted longer than the bison.
But the West has progressed with other parts of the country, and the advent of the cheap automobile and the spread of telephone wires, and even wireless now, has brought far distant ranches close together. So Bud knew it could easily have been the case that some distant ranchman might have telephoned to Diamond X that he had made a capture of suspicious persons. He may not have known of the theft of Mr. Merkel's Spur Creek papers, for this robbery had not yet been broadcast.
”No telephones, son,” said Mr. Merkel easily, as he strode out to where the horses of the boys were pawing the ground, almost as impatient to be gone as were their masters. ”But I want you to take one of the men with you.”
”Oh, Dad! I don't want to do that!” protested Bud.
”We've hit the trail alone before,” added Nort.
”It isn't a question of your ability,” went on Mr. Merkel. ”But you may have to split--very likely you will, and for this purpose four are better than three. Then you can pair it off.”
”That's right,” slowly admitted Bud. ”Two of us might have to follow one trail, and it would be lonesome for just one to take the other.