Part 22 (2/2)

Bud did not need an interpreter to understand what the old cow puncher meant. If he had been at all doubtful, a glance toward where Billee pointed would have solved the mystery.

For, some miles down the creek was a cloud of dust, and, not only a cloud of dust, but that which caused the haze--the sheep and their herders.

”They've come back!” cried Bud. ”And just where we didn't expect 'em.”

”'Twould have been mighty poor policy on their part to come back where we did expect 'em,” dryly observed Billee. ”It was their game to fool us, and they did it.”

”Then it was all a trick!” cried Bud.

”Reckon it was,” agreed Billee with a grin, as Nort, d.i.c.k and the others strolled out in readiness for breakfast.

”That poling of the river was all a bluff,” said Nort.

”Oh, not exactly,” declared Billee. ”They used the poles to try to find a place free from quicksands. Not findin' it opposite our fort, they decided to try farther down. Then some smart Aleck among 'em--an'

we got to give 'em credit for it--thought of makin' it look as though they were givin' up--retreatin', so to speak.

”That's the way it looked to us, and we crowed too soon, jest as I said a minute ago. They kept on goin', circled around an' now there they are, ready to cross Spur Creek farther away.”

”But we can stop 'em there, same as we could here,” said d.i.c.k.

”Yes, but we got to move our base of supplies an' that takes time,”

said Billee. ”An' while we're doin' that they may make a crossin'--that is, if they can avoid the quicksands. They may even find a ford down there, so the sheep can walk over without havin' to swim.” In his excitement Billee dropped most of his final g's, and clipped his other words.

”There is a ford there,” declared Lanky, the tall, thin cowboy.

”Any quicksands?” Nort wanted to know.

”That I can't say. The sands s.h.i.+ft so you can't tell where they are.”

”Well, there's only one thing to do,” declared Bud. ”Some of us have got to go down there and stop 'em from crossing. This is the first skirmish of the fight.”

”We'll come with you,” offered Nort and d.i.c.k.

”Hold on a minute--don't be rash,” counseled Old Billee. ”It'll take more'n you three lads to stop them Greasers and the sheep.”

”Well, we're under your orders,” Bud admitted, saluting the veteran.

”Well then, you three go,” advised Billee, ”and Snake and Kid will go with you. We'll bring some grub down to you.”

For it might be too late to wait until after breakfast, simple as that meal was, and as quickly served as it could be. There was no time to be lost. Bud and his boy-rancher cousins realized this.

Soon they were in their saddles, riding down the creek toward where the sheep had been herded together on the southern side of the stream.

There were the same bunch of Greasers--the boys easily picked out and recognized certain characters, even across the creek, which was wider here and more shallow.

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