DINNER AT THE OX BOW
"Welcome to the Ox Bow, young gentlemen," greeted Colonel McClure.
The rancher and his wife were waiting at the lower end of the lawn as the Pony Rider Boys, accompanied by Professor Zepplin, rode up on the following afternoon.
The lads wore their regulation plainsman's clothes, but for this occasion coats had been put on and hair combed, each desiring to look his best, as they were to meet the young ladies of the ranch.
"We owe you an apology, sir, for appearing in this condition," announced the Professor.
"Master Butler and myself have already settled that question," answered the rancher. "As Henry Ward Beecher once said, 'Clothes don't make the man, but when he is made he looks very well dressed up.' I must say, however, that these young men are about as likely a lot of lads as I have ever seen."
Clear-eyed, their faces tanned almost to a copper color, figures erect and shoulders well back, the Pony Rider Boys were indeed wholesome to look upon. Perhaps Sadie and Margaret McClure were not blind to this, for they blushed very prettily, the boys thought, upon being presented to their guests. Ruth Brayton was in a sunny mood, laughing gayly as she chatted with the boys.
Tad glanced at her inquiringly. She was not the same girl that he had met the day before. There was a difference in the eyes, too. Tad could not understand the change. It perplexed him.
Colonel McClure took the Professor off to his study, the boys being left with Mrs. McClure and the young ladies to wander through the grounds and chat. Each of the young women was an accomplished horsewoman, and therefore evinced a keen interest in the experiences of the boys since they had been in saddle.
"I had so often wanted to take a trip through the Rockies on horseback," announced Miss Margaret.
"I am afraid you would find it rather rough going," said Ned Rector.
"No worse than the plains," replied Walter. "We have had more hardships in Texas during the short time we have been here than we ever experienced in the mountains."
"Yes; but you were driving cattle," objected Mrs. McClure. "There probably is no harder work in the world. We, down here, know something about that."
"I—I killed a bobcat up in the mountains," Stacy Brown informed them, with enthusiasm.
"Indeed," smiled Mrs. McClure indulgently.
"He did. And I fell off a mountain," laughed Walter Perkins. "You see we have had quite a series of experiences."
"Indeed you have. How long do you expect to remain with the herd? Are you going through with them?"
"I believe not," answered Tad Butler. "I think we shall be leaving very soon now. We have a lot of traveling to do yet, as it has been planned that we shall see a good deal of the country before it is time to return to school this fall."
"And you are to remain out in the open—in the saddle all summer?" asked Miss Brayton, her eyes sparkling almost enviously.
"Yes; I believe so."
"I should love it."
"We are getting to love it ourselves. It will be hard to have to sleep indoors again."
Shortly afterwards all were summoned in to supper. Stacy Brown's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he surveyed the table resplendent with silver and cut glass—loaded, too, with good things to eat.
Ned Rector observed the look in his companion's eyes.
"Now, don't forget that we are not eating off the tail board of the chuck wagon, Chunky," he whispered in passing. "Be as near human as you can and satisfy your appetite."
Chunky's face flushed.
"Take your advice to yourself," he muttered.
Colonel McClure proved an entertaining host, and the boys were led on to talk about themselves during most of the meal. Especially were their hosts interested in the story of the discovery of the Lost Claim, which the boys had found on their trip in the Rockies.
"I have wanted to ask you about the old church between here and camp, Mr. McClure," said Tad at the first opportunity.
"Very interesting old ruin, sir," answered the host. "Built by the Mexicans more than a hundred years ago."
"Yes, so I understand."
"Is it true that there's spooks in that place?" interrupted Stacy.
Everybody laughed. Tad glanced sharply at Ruth Brayton. He noticed a curious flush on her face, and the strained look that he had observed in her eyes on the previous day was again there. Almost the instant he caught it it was gone.
"I'm afraid you have been misinformed, Master Stacy," answered Colonel McClure.
"How about the trouble that the cattle men experience when near the place?" spoke up Ned Rector. "The cowmen are sure there is something in the story."
"Nothing at all—nothing at all. Just a mere coincidence. We live here and we have no more than the usual run of ill luck with our stock."
"Stampedes?" asked Tad.
"Seldom anything of that sort. You see our stock is held by wire fences. If they want to stampede we let them—let them run until they are tired of it."
"I should like to explore the old church," said Tad, again referring to the subject uppermost in his mind.
"Nothing to hinder. Ruth, why can't you and the girls take the young men over there to-morrow if the day is fine? You know the place and its history. I am sure they would enjoy having you do so."
"We should be delighted," answered Ned Rector promptly.
"We might make it a picnic," suggested Margaret McClure.
"And have things to eat?" asked Stacy, evincing a keen interest in the proposal.
"Of course," smiled Mrs. McClure. "A picnic would not be a picnic without a spread on the ground. I will send some of the servants over to serve the picnic lunch."
"Thank you," smiled Tad gratefully. "It will be a happy afternoon for all of us if Miss Brayton can find the time to take us."
"Of course Ruth will go," nodded Mrs. McClure.
"Yes," answered the young woman. "What time shall we arrange to start, auntie?"
"Say eleven o'clock, if that will suit the young men."
"Perfectly," answered Tad.
"You might first take a gallop to the Springs. That will give you all an appetite."
"Where are the Springs?" asked Ned.
"About seven miles to the eastward of the ranch. A most picturesque place," answered Colonel McClure. "Professor, while the young people are enjoying themselves, suppose you ride over here and spend the afternoon with me? We can ride about the ranch if it would please you."
"I should be delighted."
"I was going to suggest, too, that it might be a pleasant relief for all of you to accept the hospitality of the Ox Bow ranch and remain here while you are in the vicinity. We have room to spare and would be glad to have you."
"I am afraid the young men would prefer to remain in camp, thank you. They will get enough of sleeping in beds upon their return home, discourteous as the statement may seem," answered Professor Zepplin.
"Not at all—not at all. I understand you perfectly. I shall not press the point. But spend all the time you can with us. The place is yours. Make yourselves at home."
"No; Mr. Stallings would not like it if we were to remain away over night. You see, he expects us to do our share of night guard duty," explained Tad. "We are earning our keep as it were."
The boys laughed.
"That is, some of us are," corrected Ned, with a sly glance at Stacy, who was eating industriously. "Others are eating for their keep."
The Pony Rider Boys caught the hidden meaning in his words, but they tried not to let their hosts observe that it was a joke at the expense of one of them.
"Stallings," murmured Miss Brayton, her eyes staring vacantly at Tad Butler.
Tad flushed at the memory of what he had heard on his first visit to the ranch.
Miss Brayton excused herself rather abruptly and left the room. They did not see her again that evening.
"My niece has been ailing of late," explained Mrs. McClure.
"Perhaps she had better not try to accompany us to-morrow, then," suggested Tad.
"Oh, yes, I wish her to. It will do her good—it will take her mind from herself."
Tad Butler noted the last half of the sentence particularly. For him it held a deeper meaning than it did for his companions.
"I wonder if she knows Mr. Stallings," mused Tad. "I'm going to find out. No, I won't. It's none of my business. Still, it will do no harm to ask him, or to mention the name to him. That surely would not be wrong."
Under the charm of the evening his mind soon drifted into other channels. After supper games were brought out and a happy evening followed.
Ten o'clock came, and Professor Zepplin, glancing at his watch, was about to propose a return to camp, when one of Colonel McClure's cowboys appeared in the doorway, hat in hand.
"Beg pardon; may I speak with you a moment?" asked the man.
"Certainly," replied the colonel, with the same gracious manner, Tad observed, that he used toward his guests. "Excuse me a moment."
After a little their host returned, but rather hurriedly, it seemed, and Tad's keen eyes noticed that he seemed disturbed.
Mr. McClure caught the lad's inquiring gaze fixed upon him. He nodded.
"Is anything wrong?" asked the rancher's wife.
"Yes; I am afraid there is," he answered quietly.
"What is it?"
"I am not sure. Perhaps I should not alarm you young gentlemen, but I think you should know."
"At the camp, you mean?" asked Tad.
"Yes."
"What's that?" demanded Professor Zepplin sharply. "Something wrong at the camp?"
"My men think so. They say they hear shooting off in that direction, and want to know if they shall ride out."
"You think it is a—a——" began Tad.
"A stampede? Yes; I should not be surprised."
"We must go," announced the lad, rising promptly.
"Why go?" asked Margaret.
"We may be needed."
"But my men have started already," replied the rancher. "They surely will be help enough."
"Mr. Stallings will expect us. We may be able to be of some assistance."
"Well, if you must. Yes; you are right. Business is business, even when one is out on a pleasure trip. It's a good sign in a young man. Tell your foreman that he may call upon us to any extent."
"Thank you, I will," replied Tad.
Bidding their hosts a hasty good night, and promising to be on hand at the appointed hour on the following day if the condition of the herd permitted, the Pony Rider Boys ran for their ponies. In a few moments they were racing toward camp. They, too, were now able to hear the short, spiteful bark of the six-shooters.
It was a significant sound. They had heard it too many times before not to understand it. In their minds they could see the hardy cowboys riding in front of the unreasoning animals, shooting into the ground in front of them, seeking to check the rush.
"What do you think about this business?" asked Tad Butler, drawing up beside Ned Rector.
"I think there is more in this spook story than Colonel McClure knows of, or, at least, will admit."
"So do I," answered Tad.
"We'll know when we hear how it happened."
Tad remembered, at that moment, the hasty departure of Ruth Brayton.
"I wonder—I wonder," muttered the boy to himself.