CHAPTER II
HINT OF A MYSTERY
“What’s that?” asked Jerry Hopkins, sharply. He had been reading overagain a portion of his mother’s letter, and had not quite caught whatNed had said. The latter repeated his statement.
“Cattle rustlers! Plain thieves, in other words; eh?” exclaimed Jerry.“That’s no joke out West, I believe. In the early days ranch ownersused to suffer big losses from the acts of rustlers, but I thought ithad all died out.”
“It doesn’t seem to have done so--not on dad’s ranch,” went on Ned.“This letter from the foreman must have been quite a shock to him. Hegot it a day or so ago, I guess,” and Ned glanced at the date.
“I didn’t know your father was interested in a Western ranch,” remarkedJerry.
“It’s a comparatively new venture for dad--going into the cattlebusiness,” Ned replied. “He figured, though, that with the price ofbeef as high as it is, and going higher, he could make money. But Iguess if this sort of thing keeps up he’ll come out the little end ofthe horn. I’ll read the letter to you.”
And while Ned’s chums gather around to hear the letter, which heprepared to explain, I will take just a moment to give my new readers,who may meet Ned, Bob and Jerry for the first time in this volume, anidea of the books that precede this.
Under the name, “The Motor Boys,” our three heroes made their first bowto the public. The boys lived in Cresville, not far from Boston, andhad many good times together. Jerry Hopkins was the son of Mrs. JuliaHopkins, a wealthy widow. Aaron Slade, Ned’s father, was a prosperousdepartment store keeper, and Andrew Baker was president of the largestbank in the city where he lived.
The boys’ first experiences with gasoline vehicles had to do withmotorcycles, but it was not long before they had an automobile, and inthat they took many trips, overland, into Mexico, over the plains andhome again. Then the motor boys went in for boating, and sailed notonly on the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans but in strange waters.
On many of their trips the boys were accompanied by Professor UriahSnodgrass, and he did not balk even when they went in for airships,in which line of locomotion they were very successful. ProfessorSnodgrass--at present an instructor in Boxwood Hall--was a great seekerafter queer forms of insect life and his zeal sometimes got him intoodd predicaments.
I had the pleasure, in a number of volumes, of telling you of theactivities of the motor boys until it seemed there were no more worldsleft for them to conquer. But they heard the call of the under sea,and, venturing into a submarine, they found life beneath the wavesfully as remarkable as above, if not more so.
The parents of the boys began to think the lads were getting toomuch idle fun. They wanted their sons to have a better education.So our three heroes had been sent to a boarding school. “The MotorBoys at Boxwood Hall, or, Ned, Bob and Jerry as Freshmen,” the volumeimmediately preceding this, tells of new adventures for Ned Slade, BobBaker and Jerry Hopkins.
Of the merry times they had, and how they were instrumental in “puttingBoxwood Hall on the map,” in athletics, you may read in that book. Thispresent story opens with the boys coming to an end of their first yearin the place, with the prospect of a long summer vacation, and at thismoment we find them puzzled over the foreman’s letter to Mr. Slade.
“He says,” began Ned, reading the missive again. “He says----”
“Who’s he?” demanded Jerry.
“Dick Watson, foreman of dad’s Square Z ranch,” explained Ned.
“Square Z ranch--what does that mean?” asked Bob.
“Guess you’ve forgotten all the western lingo you used to know, haven’tyou?” Ned asked. “The brand on dad’s cattle is a Z in a hollow square,and his ranch is named that.”
“Cut out the explains,” begged Jerry, “and get down to facts. Whatabout the cattle rustlers?”
“Well, Dick writes dad that a lot of his choice stock has been runoff the ranch,” went on Ned, reading the letter and summarizing theinformation he gathered from it. “It isn’t the first time, it seems,for the thieving had been going on before dad bought the place. Dickwas foreman then and dad kept him on,” Ned explained. “He’s one of thebest there is, so all reports of him say.
“But he writes that never before were the cattle thieves so bold orso successful. They have wiggled out of every trap set for them andseem to laugh at the cowboys. Dad’s ranch isn’t the only one that hassuffered either, for Dick tells of others. He ends up his letter bywarning dad that he’ll have to do something if he doesn’t want to loseall he invested in the place.”
“And something ought to be done!” declared Bob. “Think of all theprospective roast beef that’s being stolen! Those cattle thieves oughtto be--they ought to be----” and Bob paused to consider a punishment tofit the crime.
“They ought to be kept on a vegetable diet!” laughed Jerry. “That wouldleave so much more roast beef for Bob--eh, Chunky?”
“Well, I’d like a chance to chase after ’em,” declared the fat lad.“What’s your father going to do, Ned?”
“I don’t know. This is the first I have heard about it. I suppose I’dbetter send this letter back to him. He may want it to refer to.”
“Too bad we missed him--and my dad, too,” put in Bob. “I’m sorry Iforgot about the gas, but----”
“Oh, well, there’s no use worrying about it now,” was Ned’s philosophicalcomment. He was now in better humor. “If I only had some of the moneyI’m sure dad would have given me----”
“Here!” cried Bob, eagerly producing a few bills. “Take half of thisuntil you can get yours. I sha’n’t need it. Besides, I’ve got creditwith the proctor.”
“I haven’t--worse luck,” grumbled Ned. “Well, I’ll take this, and makeyou an I. O. U. later. Thanks. And now let’s have a real meal. Ah, Ibeat you to it!” he exclaimed as he saw Bob about to make the samesuggestion. “We’ll eat and go back to Boxwood. Then I’ll write to dadand send him this letter.”
The meal progressed merrily. It was a holiday at the school, theoccasion being the regatta on the lower end of the lake, and the boys,having already missed the racing, were in no haste to return.
“Make sure you have plenty of gas this time, Bob,” advised Ned, as thethree went down to the dock where the motor boat was tied.
The trip back was uneventful, if we except the fact that Bob nearlyfell overboard when making a sudden grab for his hat that had blown off.
“Yes, this sure is queer business,” said Ned, musingly, when the threechums were gathered in his room, which adjoined the apartments of Boband Jerry.
“What’s queer?” the tall lad questioned, rather absent-mindedly.
“This cattle-stealing out on dad’s ranch,” and Ned glanced over theforeman’s letter again.
“Seems to interest you,” observed Bob.
“Sure! Why wouldn’t it? What gets me, though, is why the foreman orsome of his cowboys on the ranch haven’t been able to get on the trailof the thieves. Watson seems to think there is something of a mysteryabout it.”
“How mystery?” inquired Jerry.
“In the way the rustlers cover their tracks after they run off a bunchof choice steers. There’s something queer about that. I may have totake a trip out there myself, and help clear up the mystery,” and Nedassumed a whimsical air of importance.
“Mystery; eh?” cried Chunky. “Say, I wouldn’t mind taking a chance atthat myself!”
“Not so bad,” came drawlingly from Jerry Hopkins. “We haven’t madeour vacation plans yet, and trying to find and frustrate a band ofmysterious cattle rustlers might not be the worst way of having a goodtime.”
Something seemed to startle Ned Slade into action. He folded theforeman’s letter, slapped it sharply on the edge of the table and cried:
“Fellows, I’ve got the greatest idea ever! If we three----”
There came an imperative knock on the door, followed by the command:
“Come on! Open up there!”
Startl
ed, the three chums looked at one another.