CHAPTER VII
A PARLEY
For a moment the two boys remained motionless and quiet, waiting forwhat might develop. But the dying sparks of the rocket--if such itwas--were followed by no other demonstration.
"We'd better call Billee and the others," murmured Bud.
"That's right," agreed Nort in a low voice, though there was no needfor this, as the rocket-senders must have been several miles away.
Billee Dobb awakened at the slightest whisper near his bunk, and in afew moments Dick, Yellin' Kid and the other cowboys, of whom there werehalf a dozen at the "fort," as it was called, were awake. It did nottake them long to hustle into their clothes, and then, draped inponchos, for it was still raining hard, they stood out in the darkness,waiting for what might happen next.
"Couldn't have been a rocket," murmured Old Billee, as the rain pelteddown. "It's too wet for that."
"Must have been some Greasers around a camp fire--though how in thename of a maverick they got one to burn I don't see," observed Yellin'Kid, making his voice only a little lower than usual. "Must 'a' beenthat one of 'em chucked a brand up in the air."
"It wasn't like a fire brand," declared Nort.
"It was just like a regular rocket," added Bud.
Old Billee was about to say something, probably to the effect that itwas a false alarm, and that they'd all do better to be back in theirwarm bunks when the blackness of the night was suddenly dispelled offto the south by a sliver of flame, followed by a trail of red sparks.
"There she goes again!" cried Bud.
"The same as before," added Nort.
"That's a rocket right enough," admitted Billee.
"Like the time we was after cattle rustlers," said Yellin' Kid,referring to an occasion, not fully set forth in any of the books,when, as the Diamond X took after a gang of cattle thieves, rocketswere used as signals by the marauders to communicate with separatedbands.
"What do you reckon it means?" asked Dick, who often dropped into thevernacular of the plains.
"Well, it _might_ mean almost anything," admitted Old Billee. "Can'tbe any of Uncle Sam's soldiers that far south, or we'd 'a' heard aboutit. As near as I can figure it there must be some crowd down theretrying to give a signal to some crowd somewhere else."
This was sufficiently vague to have covered almost anything; as sportwriters spread the "dope," in talking about a coming football contestbetween Yale and Princeton.
Yellin' Kid must have sensed this, for with a chuckle he said:
"You're bound to be right, Billee, no matter which way the cat jumps.It sure is _some_ crowd signallin' to _another_ crowd."
"Do you suppose they're trying to signal us?" asked Dick.
"Don't believe so," remarked Bud. "I think it's some of the sheep mengetting ready to rush in here. That rocket is a notice to some oftheir friends around here that they're going to start."
"Well, if they come we'll stop 'em!" declared Bud, and the othersmurmured their agreement with this sentiment.
They waited a little longer after the sparks of the second rocket haddied away, but the signal--and it seemed positively to be that--was notrepeated.
"No use standing here," murmured Old Billee. "It will soon be morning,and if anything happens we'll be ready for it. Let's get our rest out.Is your trick up, Bud?"
"Not quite, Billee."
"Well, Dick and I go on next," remarked Yellin' Kid, "and we might aswell jump in now as long as we're up. Turn in, Bud and Nort."
Our young heroes were glad enough to do this, though they never wouldhave asked to be relieved before their time. Accordingly, after a fewmoments of looking in vain toward where they had seen the rocket, for arepetition of the signals, Bud and Nort went inside the cabin, andstretched out for a little rest before day should fully break.
The remainder of the night--really a short period--was without alarm orany sign that hostile forces were on their way to take possession ofland claimed by the owner of Diamond X.
"Grub's ready!" was the musical call of the cook, and soon those whowere holding the line at Spur Creek were gathered about the table.
"Well, nothing happened, I see, or, rather, I don't see," remarked Budto Dick and the Yellin' Kid who had come in off guard duty.
"Nary a thing," answered he of the loud voice. "Didn't hear a peep outof anybody and they wasn't no more fireworks."
"But we'd better keep pretty closely on the watch to-day," suggestedDick. "Those rockets meant something."
"You're right," said Billee Dobb. "We'll stick right close to ourlittle old fort to-day, and, boys, be sure your guns are in quickworking order. There may be no shootin' and then, ag'in, there maybe," he drawled.
I suppose I need not tell you that the boy ranchers in their secrethearts rather hoped there would be shooting. They had been under firebefore, and while they were not foolhardy nor inclined to take risks,they felt that if there was to be a fight on the part of the sheep mento get unlawful possession of Diamond X land, the sooner such a fighttook place the better. Suspense was worse than actual conflict.
So after the "chores" had been attended to about the Spur Creek fort(and there were not many duties), it became a matter of waiting. SpurCreek made a bend at this part of Mr. Merkel's holdings, and the fortwas situated on what was a sort of triangular peninsula, with thestream flowing on two sides of it. In this way it was what, during theWorld War, was called a "spearhead" into the country to the south, andit was from this country that the Mexican, Greaser or other sheepherders might be expected to invade the range long held sacred tohorses and cattle. But this land, by government proclamation, was nowthrown open to all comers.
Because of the peculiar formation of the land it lent itself readily todefense, and also gave a good post for observation. The "fort" hadbeen hastily built on the extreme point, as near the creek as waspractical. Back, on either side, extended the banks of the stream, andwhen breakfast had been served Old Billee, who was in command, selectedthose who were to patrol the banks on each side of the cabin, for adistance several miles back along the edges of the "spearhead."
The morning passed. The first contingent of scouts had come in to eatand another body was about to go out to relieve them when Bud, who hadgone down to the edge of the creek, to clean a particularly muddy pairof shoes, looked across the stream, and uttered a cry of alarm.
Riding up from the southland, Mexico if I may so call it (though theactual country of the Montezumas was distant many miles), was a lonehorseman. He was coming along, "sweating leather," and was seen byothers of the Diamond X forces almost as soon as observed by Bud.
"Some one's coming!" yelled Bud, and he stood up on the edge of SpurCreek looking at the approaching horseman until Yellin' Kid shouted:
"Better duck back here, boy. No telling when he may unlimber a gun!"
It was good advice and Bud took it, to the extent of getting backnearer the cabin fort. On came the rider, seemingly fearless, until hepulled rein on the other side of the stream and sat there on the backof his panting horse, a most picturesque figure.
"Mex from hat to stirrups," murmured Snake Purdee.
"An' wicked from outside to inside," added Yellin' Kid in a lower voicethan usual.
The Mexican rider, for such he seemed to be, raised one hand, smiled toshow two rows of very white teeth in the expanse of a very dark face,took off his broad-brimmed and high crowned hat and said:
"_Parlez, senors?_"
It was in the form of a question, and as such Old Billee answered it.
"Talk?" grunted the veteran cow puncher. "What about?"
"The land," replied the stranger, with another smile evidently intendedto be engaging, but which seemed rather mocking. "I come to ask whyyou are here in such force, evidently to stop any who might wish tocross to feed their stock on open range?"
"Well, it'll save trouble in a way, if you recognize the fact that weare here to stop you," said Billee. "An' we're goin' to! _Sabe_?"
"But for why?" asked the other, speaking English much better than hisappearance seemed to indicate he might be able to. "It is land open toall who come, and I have come----"
"Then you may as well go back where you came from!" interrupted Yellin'Kid, "'cause there's going to be no onery sheep pastured here, an' youcan roll that in your cigaret an' smoke it!" he added, as the strangercalmly made himself a "smoke" from a wisp of paper and some tobacco heshook into it from a small cloth bag.
There was no answer to this implied challenge on the part of Yellin'Kid, hardly even the flicker of an eyelash to show that the strangerheard and understood.
Yet he must have heard. Yellin' Kid was not one to leave a matter ofthat sort in doubt. His tones were always above the average.
And that he has made himself plain was evident to all--even to thestranger it would appear. For there was that in his air--somethingabout him--which seemed to say that he had absorbed what the cowboy hadintimated.
Whether he would profit by the remarks--well, that was anothermatter--something for the future.
But if he was at all apprehensive it was not manifested by any tremorof his hands; for not a grain of tobacco was spilled.