Children of the rich -- Fiction; Love stories; Nevada -- Fiction; Ranch life -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Western stories
The shock caused by the halfbreed’s bullet had left him, and except
for a faint scar on his temple he showed no signs of his close call
from death.
Scotty was in a fretful mood and urged them to make Ricker’s at once
in the hope of picking up some information.
“I’ll tell you what we had better do,” he spoke up eagerly. “We’ll go
to Ricker’s and stand watch all night. We can stay just far enough
away so they won’t get on to us, and maybe the half breed will try to
sneak through our line. What do you think of the idea, Joe?”
Big Joe Turner did some quick thinking.
“Sounds good to me,” he said at last. “Bud wanted us to meet him
to-night at Bar X, but if Powers is with the halfbreed, and I am
convinced he is, we can do no better than to watch Ricker’s all
night.”
“And there is a chance that one of them may try to sneak back there
for supplies or something, and we will stand a chance of catching one
of them,” cut in Tex, giving his belt an extra hitch.
The plan was agreed to at once, and they pressed their tired horses
hard to get to the ranch before it became too dark. Scotty was
delighted that his plan had been accepted, and listened eagerly as Big
Joe explained the methods they were to employ.
“We will ride up to within fifty yards or so of the ranch,” he was
saying, “and we will surround the house and keep watch all night. If
nothing develops we will draw off in the morning and make for home to
hear what Bud has to report.”
A set of signals was then carefully prepared and understood by all. By
the time they reached Ricker’s it was quite dark, but the stars snowed
plainly.
Big Joe placed his men and they all settled down for an all-night
vigil.
Their horses had been picketed far enough away so that if any of them
should whinny they could not be heard at the ranch. To Mason, who lay
prone on the ground staring into the inky darkness, for the stars had
disappeared and a faint breeze had sprung up, this watching was dull
business. He was stationed next to Tex, and after catching himself on
the verge of falling asleep, he gave a signal that Tex understood and
wormed his way cautiously towards him.
“I nearly fell asleep, Tex,” he said in a low whisper as he made out
the form of his fellow sentinel.
“This is new business for you, lad,” the other returned in a like
whisper. “You looked about done up to-day, man.”
It was a fact and Mason admitted it to himself. What with the terrific
riding and his constant worry about their failure to find any trace of
Josephine, it all had raised havoc with his nerves. He realized at
last that he was in love with her and the thought that she cared for
Bud brought a groan of anguish from him. Tex, who had been searching
his pockets, held a flask towards him.
“Here, Jack, take a drink of this brandy and brace up,” he said in a
kindly whisper.
Mason hesitated. He had gotten over the notion of taking any strong
drink, but he knew if he was to keep up his strength he must have some
stimulant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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