CHAPTER V
THE HALF-MOON RANCH
As the boys drew rein in front of the broad, vine-covered piazza of the ranch house they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Wilder,
"Well, it does seem good to see some one from home," exclaimed the latter as she shook the hands of Tom and Larry.
"It sure does," asserted her husband. "Wish you'd brought your father and mother with you. What in the world started them off to Scotland?"
Quickly the brothers explained.
"Well, well! So Uncle Darwent really had some money," commented Mrs. Wilder. "I'm real glad, though of course it isn't as though your father needed any more. I should have thought you boys would have wanted to go with them."
"Not when we could spend the summer on your ranch," returned Larry. "But we began to be afraid we would be obliged to go, and we should have if the telegram had been any later. No time ever seemed so long as when we were waiting for your answer."
"It was just luck we got your message," declared Horace. "Sometimes we don't go to town for a week. But something seemed to urge me to ride in the other morning, and when I arrived Con Brown hollered to me he had a telegram. When I read it, I didn't lose any time answering, and I made Con promise to rush it."
"Con's our telegraph operator," explained Bill. "Come on in and change your duds and then we'll look the ranch over."
Nothing loath to remove their clothes, which still smelled of engine smoke, despite their ride over the plains, as the brothers seized their suitcases and followed their young hosts, Larry exclaimed laughingly:
"You see we took your advice not to bring a trunk."
"Glad of it," asserted Horace joyously. "There's no need to dress out here. It's just great! You don't have to put on a collar from one week's end to another. But if you had brought a lot of clothes, mother would have made us dress too. That's why I mentioned the matter in my telegram."
This explanation was given in a low tone that Mrs. Wilder might not know her son had taken such effective measures to prevent his being obliged to "dress up," and the boys laughed heartily at the harmless joke.
The home of the Wilders was only one story high, but the rooms were big and comfortable. Around three sides ran the piazza, from which French windows, extending from the floor to the ceiling, opened, admitting any breeze that might be stirring.
The room assigned to the boys was on the west side of the house, and through the vines they could look across the plains to some mountains that towered in the distance.
"Our room is the next one to yours," said Bill. "We'll wait there till you are dressed. If you want anything, sing out."
Hastily Tom and Larry took off the clothes in which they had traveled, and bathed, glad of the opportunity to remove the cinders which had caused them no little discomfort.
"Bill and Horace seem just the same as when they lived in Bramley," observed Tom when they were alone. "Horace hasn't grown a bit."
"They are tanned up till they look like Indians, that's the only change I can see," returned his brother. "Horace always will be short, but Bill's tall enough for two."
"You can't wear those caps," declared Bill as Tom and Larry appeared with the light baseball caps they had brought with them.
"But that's all we have," protested Larry, "except, of course, our straw hats. You don't expect us to knock round in those, do you?"
"Sure not. But if you wore those caps you'd get sunstruck out on the plains. We've got some sombreros you can take."
As the boys trooped out onto the piazza Tom espied a five-bar fence about a hundred yards from the house.
"That's the horse corral," explained Horace, noting the direction of his friend's gaze. "We don't keep our ponies in barns out here. The horses are all out on the range now, except eight we keep at home for ourselves."
Passing from the cool veranda, the boys walked toward a long building some thirty yards away.
"This is the bunk-house, where the cowboys stay when they're home," announced Bill. "There are ten of them, the best boys in this part of the country, but they are a lively lot. It's a good thing they are with the cattle. You'll have a chance to get used to ranching before they come in or they might amuse themselves at your expense. Politeness isn't a cowboy's long suit."
"So I gathered," said Larry as he thought of his experience at the crossing in Oklahoma. But his mind was quickly diverted by his brother.
"What's that half-moon over the door mean?" asked the younger of the Alden boys as he caught sight of a gilded crescent that sparkled in the sunlight.
"Oh, tenderfoot! oh, tenderfoot! It is indeed fortunate the boys are away," exclaimed Bill in mock solemnity.
"That is the brand of this ranch. Every horse, every steer, cow and calf we own bears a half-moon because this is the Half-Moon Ranch. When any of our ponies or cattle go astray or mix with others, the only way we can tell which belong to us is by the brand."
"How do you put it on?" asked Tom.
"Burn it into the flesh with hot irons. If you can stay till fall, when we have a round-up, you can see how it's done," said Horace.
Feeling that they were indeed ignorant of ranch life, the two brothers decided to use their eyes and ask no more questions than were necessary.
Entering the bunk-house, they saw a long table covered with white oilcloth and a line of bunks built in two tiers against the wall opposite the door. A big stove stood at one end, and there were pegs for saddles, bridles and lassoes all about.
From the bunk-house the boys went to the wagon sheds, which contained three or four farm wagons and also a buckboard.
"That's for mother," explained Bill. "She doesn't like to ride, but she can though if it's necessary.
"Here's where your saddles are," he continued, pointing to a beam into which pegs had been driven. "You want to remember them, especially when the boys are home. They don't like to have any one else take their saddles."
"We'll remember," declared Tom and Larry meaningly.
"I suppose we'll find our ponies in the corral?" hazarded Tom.
"Sure thing. And here's something else to keep in mind. Father always insists that each man put his pony in the corral himself. Of course this morning he did it for us, but he won't again."
"How do you get the horses when you want them? Call 'em?" asked
Tom.
"Sometimes that will work—after a pony has come to know its master—but the quickest way is to take some oats in a pan," declared Horace. "We keep the oats here," and he opened a bin at one side of the wagon shed.
"You can use oats on Blackhawk and Lightning and our own ponies, but when we want a strange horse we rope him. That makes me think, I've saved a couple of dandy lariats for you. Cross-eyed Pete, one of our boys, made them for me out of rawhide. They are in my room. Come on, we'll get them and then show you how to use them."
"Is it hard to learn?" inquired Larry.
"Yes, to throw one every time," replied Bill. "Horace and I have been practicing ever since we came out. We can do pretty well. But you ought to see Cross-eyed Pete! He's the best of all the boys. He's so good, he can drop a noose over a rattlesnake, and that's going some."
Before the lads could get the lassoes, however, Mrs. Wilder called them to get ready for dinner.
As the two visitors took their seats at the table a Chinaman, clad in white, glided noiselessly into the room and took his place behind Mr. Wilder's chair, ready to serve.
"Hop Joy, this is Mr. Larry and this is Mr. Tom," said Mrs. Wilder.
"Whatever they ask you to do, you must do it."
The celestial, who was cook, washman and general factotum on the
Half-Moon Ranch, bowed gravely to each of the boys.
"That sounds very fine," laughed Mr. Wilder, "but you must be careful what you ask Hop Joy to do. If you disturb him when he's cooking he's apt to throw a pail of water at you."
"Hop's all right, father," declared Horace loyally. "He only throws water when the boys try to steal his doughnuts. Um—m, but Hop can make doughnuts! You two just wait till you're riding all day and then see if they don't taste good."
"So that explains the reason you keep on the right side of Hop Joy, eh?" answered Mr. Wilder, smiling. "I've often wondered why you were so willing to help him when the boys are home."
After the laughter this sally evoked had subsided Mrs. Wilder asked the boys about their journey.
In amazement the Wilders listened as the experiences were related, and when Larry finished the account of his mix-up with the cow-punchers Bill exclaimed:
"And here Horace and I have been making fun of you for tenderfeet.
The joke seems to be on us."
"That's what it is," asserted their father. "There are not many men, let alone lads, who can say they have faced Gus Megget and got the best of him."
It was the chums' turn to be surprised as they heard this statement.
"Then you know him?" queried Tom.
"I know of him," corrected the ranchman, and the boys noted that the kindly expression of his face disappeared as he spoke. "Gus Megget is a very bad man. He hasn't done an honest day's work for five years. People say he is a train robber, and I've always believed he was a cattle thief, too. From what you tell me, that's Shorty Jenks' opinion. If the truth were known, I think Megget would prove to be the head of a gang of cattle thieves."
And how true were Mr. Wilder's suspicions, they were all destined to learn.
The recital of their adventuresome journey recalled to the boys that they had entirely forgotten to tell about Hans' coming.
Each of the four apparently thought of the timid German boy at the same time and looked at one another uneasily.
And their anxiety was not lessened when Mrs. Wilder asked:
"What became of Hans? Did you call him? Did his brother meet him?"
"No, he didn't," said Larry. Then, determined to get the matter settled at once, he continued: "Mr. Wilder, I'm afraid I have imposed on your kindness, but I asked Bill and Horace to let the German boy come to your ranch until we could decide what he should do. He's so—so scared, I did not like to leave him alone in Tolopah."
"I asked to have him come, too," declared Tom, as though unwilling his brother should bear all the blame, if blame there was to be.
"That was right, quite right," said Mr. Wilder, after a quick glance at his wife. "Tolopah wouldn't agree with him very well. We've plenty of room and perhaps he will get over his fear. I can use another hand very well, if he wants work."
It was a great relief to all the boys to have the matter settled so pleasantly, and they resumed their laughter and chatter.
When dinner was finished they all went out onto the piazza, where Tom and Larry were initiated into the mysteries of throwing a lasso. Then the visitors were taken around and shown many sights new to them.