CHAPTER XIX
ANOTHER ATTEMPT
“Well!” exclaimed Jerry to himself, “wouldn’t that make you wonder ifyou were seeing things?”
For a moment he stood, fascinated by the thought of what it all mightmean, and he did not realize that it was not exactly the proper thingto do. But Munson was without so much as a scar to show where thebullet had gone in and been cut out, as he had claimed it had been!
“I wonder if he could have said his arm instead of his leg?” musedJerry as he walked softly away, having given over his idea of speakingto the cattle buyer. “Did I misunderstand them when they told me aboutthe shooting?”
Jerry tried to reason it out.
No, he was sure “leg” had been mentioned. Besides, he himself had seenthe blood-stained trousers the man had worn.
“And one doesn’t wear trousers on one’s arms. What does it all mean?”Jerry mused.
He tried to think it out. Clearly, since there was no trace of a bulletwound there could have been no bullet. And, by the same process ofreasoning, if there was no bullet there could have been no shot firedat Munson.
“And if there wasn’t a shot there wasn’t the fight he described, andmaybe--yes, there was a cattle theft all right.” Jerry was sure of thatmuch, anyhow.
“But why should he fake a wound?” Jerry asked himself. “What objectcould he have, unless he wanted to make himself out a hero. I guessthat must be it. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t afraid of a gun.Well, maybe he isn’t. But this is a queer way to prove it. I give itup!”
A little later as Jerry was sitting out in the sun Munson came limpingtoward him.
“He’s keeping up the fake,” thought the tall lad. “And he does itwell. Limps just about enough, and not as much as at first. He doesn’tforget, either. Must be a good actor.
“How’s the leg?” the boy asked, just to see what would be said.
“Oh, getting on fine!” was the enthusiastic answer. “I’ll be able toleave the bandages off in a couple of days now,” and he motioned to abulge under his trousers where, evidently, he had wound some cloth,uselessly, as Jerry knew.
“That’s good,” was Jerry’s comment. Then, just to see what the effectwould be, he remarked, as though in surprise:
“Oh, you were shot in the right leg, weren’t you?”
He thought perhaps Munson might surmise that he had been suspected offaking, and would seem confused. But he was perfectly cool and repliedin casual tones:
“Sure it was the right leg. Did you think it was the left?”
“I had an idea,” Jerry answered.
“Yes, I’ll be in fine shape in a couple more days,” went on Munson,“and then I can help you boys look for those cattle rustlers. I’d liketo get hold of the man who shot me.”
“You never will,” thought the lad grimly, “for there wasn’t any suchman. You’re a big faker; but what’s your game?”
Jerry cared more for that than for anything else just then. Was Munsonin with the thieves? If so, what would it benefit him to pretend to bewounded? Jerry’s brain was tired with trying to get a loose end of thetangle that he could follow.
Ned and Bob, going off by themselves to look for traces of the thieves,were no more successful than the three chums had been together. Theyreturned at the end of a long day, tired and disappointed.
Their zeal was quickened, however, when Jerry told them of the queerdiscovery in regard to Munson.
“Whew!” whistled Ned. “There’s something doing here, all right. He’sone of the cattle thieves as sure as guns! We’ve got to watch himclose.”
“I agree to that last part all right,” said Jerry. “But I’m not so surehe’s in with the rustlers.”
“I am!” and Bob sided with Ned.
“Well, that’s one end to work on, and another is to see what happenedto your dad’s cattle,” said Jerry. “We’ll have another try at thegulch, I think.”
“It’s only a waste of time,” declared Ned. “Bob and I have gone overevery inch of the ground there.”
“Well, I’m a bit freshened up by my rest,” insisted Jerry, “and I wantto take another look. But have you fellows formed ideas at all?”
“Half a dozen, and not one any good,” answered Bob. “Once I had an ideathat they took the cattle away in a big automobile from the point wherewe lost trace of them.”
“They couldn’t do that without leaving marks of the wheels,” put inNed, “and we didn’t see any.”
“Then I got a crazy notion that they floated them down a river on araft,” went on Chunky. “Only,” and he grinned, “there isn’t any rivernear there.”
“And then he sprang the tunnel theory,” laughed Ned.
“What’s that?” Jerry demanded.
“Oh, I had an idea there might be a secret underground passagesomewhere near the gulch, and the rustlers could slip the cattle awaythrough that. But we couldn’t find any tunnel.”
“And so we’re about at the end of our guessing,” resumed Ned. “Theonly theories left are that the cattle sprout wings and jump over themountain range, or else they’re carried up in an elevator, leaving notrace.”
“Well, we’ll see what we can find,” said Jerry. “What with that, andkeeping an eye on Munson, we’re going to have our hands full.”
“And our eyes, too,” laughed Ned.
“Want to take a spin in the airship?” asked Bob of Jerry.
“Not quite yet,” he replied. “I feel a bit weak still, and I haven’tgotten back all my nerve. But you two go if you like.”
Bob and Ned did take a little flight just before supper, to the delightand astonishment of the cowboys, who never wearied of watching theevolutions of the aircraft, though once it made considerable work forthem, as in flying over a herd of cattle the animals stampeded, whensome of them saw the shadow of the big wings hovering over them, andthe cowboys had all they could do to quiet the steers.
But, for all that, the plainsmen delighted to watch the boys sailaloft. Few of them would venture very near the craft, however, forfear, as one of them said, “she might turn around and chase us.” Butthe airship gained for the boys a certain respect and awe that had beenlacking before. Hinkee Dee only remained hostile, but he was less openin his antagonism now.
A day or two later the three boys were on their way to the bafflinggulch, or defile. Jerry, Bob and Ned rode their ponies easily along theundulating grassy plains, Jerry having made sure this time that he hadhis own horse. The wild one had wandered off the day of the accidentand had not come back to the ranch. Mr. Watson had told the men not tomake a search for him, as he was “too ornery for anyone to own.”
Professor Snodgrass had been invited to accompany the boys, but he saidhe was on the track of some new kind of moth, and its feeding groundwas in the opposite direction from the gulch.
“Well, see what you can find,” suggested Ned to Jerry, as the trioreached the place where all traces of the stolen cattle had been lost.“Bob and I have ridden all over the place, and we can’t find a crackbig enough to let a sheep through, let alone a steer.”
“We’ll see,” said Jerry. “Mind, I don’t say there _is_ anything here,but I just want to satisfy myself.”
They looked carefully in the vicinity of the entrance to the gulch, ordefile. It was at the top of a long low slope that extended along thewestern boundary of Square Z ranch.
This ridge was really the last of a line of hills which lay at thefoot of the mountain slope. The ravine was a sort of V-shaped break inthe mountain wall. At one time it might have been a pass through themountains, but an upheaval of nature had closed it until now it was buta wedge-shaped cut, or gash, into the stony side of the mountain. Stonywere the steep walls and also the floor, which was covered with shaleand flat rocks.
“There’ve been cattle along here,” declared Jerry, pausing at theentrance to the gulch.
“Yes, everybody admits that,” conceded Ned. “And there’ve been cattlein the gulch, too. You can see trac
es of ’em. But the mystery is: howdo they get out?”
Jerry looked about without answering.