CHAPTER XIII
FRIGHTENED HORSES
Bud Merkel lost no time in getting connected, through the telephone, with the only physician in Los Pompan. Old Doc Taylor, the medical man was called, though he was not very old. It was more a term of affection.
"Our Chink cook is poisoned!" Bud explained. "Can you come out quick?"
"Pronto!" was the illuminating reply and then there was nothing to do save wait for Dr. Taylor's arrival.
"He's got a flivver," announced Snake who, with Yellin' Kid, had paid more than one visit to town since arriving at Dot and Dash, thereby learning considerable about the place and its inhabitants. "It won't take long for the doc to get here."
"But can't we do anything, meanwhile, for that poor Chink?" asked Nort.
"Guess there isn't much hope for him if he drank all that stuff," remarked Bud in gloomy tones. "Though we might try to help him get it out of his stomach."
"How you goin' to do that?" Snake demanded.
"By giving him an emetic," Bud answered. "Mustard and water's good, I've heard. Come on—we got to try something," and he turned to his cousins as the most likely ones to be of service.
They found poor Fah Moo rushing around the somewhat narrow confines of his kitchen. The Chinese was still yelling and holding both yellow hands across the pit of his stomach. On a table, amid pots, pans and dishes, were the three bottles of the Elixer of Life. Two were completely emptied and the third had but a little fluid remaining in it.
"You drink all that?" asked Bud, pointing to the three bottles when he could get Fah Moo's attention for a moment.
"Can do! Dlink lot—chop-chop!" was the groaning answer the import of it being that he had taken the stuff quickly.
"Whew!" murmured Nort. "Guess there's no hope for him."
"There may be," said Dick. "Sometimes an overdose of poison is its own antidote. He may have taken so much that he'll be sick and that would be the best thing for him."
"He sure took an overdose," declared Bud. "See if you can find some mustard, you fellows. I'll put on a kettle of water to boil. The mustard ought to be mixed with warm water to make it work."
The boys bustled about, Fah Moo, meanwhile, rushing around, clutching his stomach and howling at the top of his voice. Billee and his companions looked in now and then to ask if they could help, or to offer suggestions, more or less useless, but their services were not required. Indeed there was room for no more first-aiders in the small kitchen.
In due time the water was warm, the mustard had been found and a big dose mixed. Then came the difficulty of administering it to the Chinese cook, and a great difficulty it was. As soon as he got the idea that he was to be made to drink something more, and when he had sight of the unappetizing yellow mixture of warm water and mustard in a big bowl, the cook revolted. He retreated into a corner, pulled a chair in front of him and yelled:
"No can do! No can do!"
"But you've got to do!" insisted Bud. "It's the only way to save your life! Drink it!"
"No can dlink! Fah Moo dlink chop-chop—plenty—no can do!"
And that was all there was to it. He yipped and yapped, clutched his stomach but would not come out of his corner nor touch the emetic. The boys were in despair, and their comrades were of no help, Snake even suggesting that it served the Chink right for taking the stuff. But just when it seemed that Fah Moo would raise the roof with his yells, Dr. Taylor arrived in his rattling flivver and took charge of the case.
"What did he take?" was his first question.
"Poison!" chorused the whole Diamond X outfit.
"All right, but what kind? I can't tell what to give him to counteract it until I know what poison it was," said the medical man.
"Here's the dope!" announced Yellin' Kid, handing over the bottle containing what was left of the Elixer.
Dr. Taylor smelled it, tipped the flask to get a little of the mixture on his finger and then, gingerly, applied the digit to his tongue. He waited for any possible reaction, and then took a larger taste of the stuff. Then a slow smile spread over his face as he indulged in even a bigger "swig," as Snake called it.
"This stuff isn't poison," he said, setting the bottle back on the table. "If this is all the Chink drank he won't die."
"Not if he took three bottles of it?" asked Bud.
"Not if he took a dozen. It may make him mighty sick, but he won't die this trip."
"What is that stuff?" asked Nort.
"Sarsaparilla!" was the chuckling answer. "Nothing but good, old-fashioned sarsaparilla soda pop with the pop left out. It's as flat as ditch water. Where'd you get it?"
"Bought it from an old geezer who said it was Elixer of Life," Snake informed the doctor.
"You mean old Tosh?"
"Don't know what his name is," Bud said, "but he's an old man and he has a place back here in a cave. We caught him, a little while ago, brewing the stuff. Just before that we found some of our cattle dead and we sort of jumped to the conclusion that he'd poisoned the animals. Then, when we got here and found the Chink taking on so, and discovered the three bottles in his kitchen, empty, we thought he was poisoned."
"Not a bit of it!" chuckled Dr. Taylor. "A barrel of that wouldn't poison anybody, though, as I said, it would make them ill and give considerable pain. Elixer of Life! Ha! Ha!"
"Do you know this old man—what did you say his name was?" asked Dick.
"Old Tosh he calls himself. Might better be Bosh! No, I don't know him—never saw him as far as I know. But a lot of fools in Los Pompan have bought his dope, and it made some of them sick. That's how I happened to know what it was soon as I tasted it. I've seen samples in the homes of folks who called me in to treat them for stomach pains. Almost always it was because they had taken too much of this Tosh elixer. I've sampled dozens of bottles of it. He puts it out under all sorts of names—makes the labels himself, I guess. So I didn't recognize his concoction here until I sampled it," and the medical man waved his hands at the three bottles. "So that's that. Fah Moo won't die."
"He'll wreck our nerves, though, if he keeps this yelling up!" complained Bud. "Can't you give him something?"
"Yes, I can relieve him," chuckled the doctor. "Mustard and water; eh?" he went on as he saw the mixture. "Good enough but you have to swallow too much of it to be effective. I've got something that will do the work."
He produced a couple of capsules, which after much urging, the Chinese was induced to swallow when told they would save his life. Then he was led outside and far away by Snake and Yellin' Kid. In a short time Fah Moo was a very sick Celestial, but after that he grew rapidly better and came creeping back to the kitchen, somewhat pale, wan and drawn, but no longer yipping, yelling and yapping.
"Can do now," he said, meaning that he could proceed with his work, which he did, when he had formally been engaged by Bud who was virtually head of the new ranch.
"Well, I guess that's all there is to this case," remarked the doctor as he repacked his black bag. "There was no danger. He would have gotten over it in time, anyhow."
"So the Elixer is only sarsaparilla; is it?" asked Bud.
"That's about all. Just a sort of root beer mixture of herbs and barks the old man concocts. Harmless enough. It hasn't even the virtues of soda water, for that has carbonic acid gas in it and that's beneficial at times. So he calls it Life's Elixer; does he?"
"He does," assented Bud.
"And he stung me for a dollar!" sighed Snake. "Wait till I get hold of him! Did I hear you boys say you caught him in a cave?"
"We didn't catch him—he vamoosed as soon as he heard us," reported Bud. "But we saw him boiling the stuff. Only we thought it was poison, on account of the dead cows."
"That's so—you did mention dead cows!" exclaimed Billee. "So Death
Valley is livin' up to its name. Let's have the yarn, boys."
Bud and his cousins explained what they had discovered and the older cowboys looked anxious. Dr. Taylor listened attentively.
"I don't believe old Tosh had any hand in it," he said. "He bears the name of being a harmless crank, always imagining every one is going to die who doesn't take his herb medicine."
"I wonder if you could tell what those cows died of?" asked Bud.
"I could take a look at 'em," said the medical man, "but unless signs of the poison—granting that it was poison—were very plain, I could not say what kind was used. It would require an autopsy and a chemical analysis. I'm not equipped for such work."
"Well, would you mind having a look at the bodies?" asked Bud. "I know it isn't in your line——"
"Oh, I don't mind," said Dr. Taylor, good-naturedly. "Anything to oblige. I'll run out and go over the matter with you to-morrow. I've got to get back to town now. Not that my practice is so large," and he laughed, "but I've got to look after it. Your Chink cook will be all right in a little while," and he hurried off in his flivver, promising to return next day.
"How'd Fah Moo get the Elixer?" asked Bud when matters had somewhat quieted down and the Celestial was busy in the kitchen.
"Oh, I reckon he was snoopin' around and found where I hid the stuff in the cupboard," Billee answered. "If he's going to be our regular kitchen canary, Bud, I'll have to keep things better hid."
"I guess he's had his lesson," said young Merkel. "And I guess he'll be our permanent pot wrestler from now on. I left word for a man in Los Pompan to send me the first one he could get hold of, and Fah Moo is the result."
"And I'm glad he's here!" voiced Dick. "I'm sick and tired of giving the dishes their bath." The others felt the same about it, so Fah Moo became a fixture at Dot and Dash.
Billee and the others were surprised at the news the boys brought back from their little expedition. The finding of the cave was not considered remarkable, as Billee said there were many such about the neighborhood.
"And it wasn't strange that old Tosh, if that's his name, skipped out when he saw you," went on the veteran puncher. "Likely he thought you were coming to steal his Elixer secrets. So I guess we don't need to worry about him."
"Probably not," assented Bud and his cousins. "But," added Mr. Merkel's son, "it will be necessary to give some attention to the deaths of the cows."
"You're right there!" declared Billee. "Looks like the same old trouble was starting up again."
However the mystery was not solved by Dr. Taylor who came to the ranch next day. He looked at the dead cows, but beyond saying that they had undoubtedly died from some sort of poison he could give no opinion. And, because of the hot weather, it was not considered wise to cut up any of the bodies to send the inner organs away for a laboratory test.
"We'll have to solve the problem some other way," Bud said.
So the unfortunate cows were buried and then, resolving not to be frightened in their operations by this streak of bad luck, the boys carried out Mr. Merkel's ideas by completing the purchase of several score more head of choice animals and hiring additional cowboys to help with the work at Dot and Dash.
The new ranch was, by this time, quite an establishment, and though many croakers in Los Pompan predicted failure for it, as those who had gone before failed, Bud and his chums went on with their heads high and their hearts strong.
Fences were repaired, the herds were put out to graze, arrangements were made to ship away cattle at the most advantageous times and the work of Dot and Dash was now in full swing. Meanwhile nothing more had been seen or heard of the old hermit, as the boys called Tosh.
Bud and his cousins paid another visit to the Elixer Cave, as they christened it, but aside from the ashes of the fire they found nothing. The cavern was too big for them to explore completely in the limited time at their disposal, though they resolved, after the fall round-up, to investigate it fully.
Fah Moo fitted well into the routine at Dot and Dash. He was a good cook and was popular with the punchers for that reason. But he was cured of any "snooping" habits he may have had. He would not touch a bottle of any liquid, no matter how openly it was left around. Two or three times some of the cowboys, having heard the story, laid traps for the Chinese. But he blandly passed them by, murmuring:
"No can do!"
Mr. Merkel had been informed of the progress of affairs and though he expressed a little anxiety because of the fact that those five cattle had been found dead, he added that the animals might have eaten some poison weed which the others in the herd did not get at. And as since then nothing had happened, he expressed the hope that nothing would, and that his wisdom in buying Dot and Dash at a bargain would be demonstrated.
So matters went along for a few weeks. Every one was busy, things looked favorable for a good season and Bud and his cousins were getting ready to laugh at themselves for thinking there was a jinx.
But one afternoon, when the three had ridden over to mend a broken fence, and when they were returning home, as they passed the entrance to what they still called Smugglers' Glen, Dick's horse suddenly started, reared and then, after a fit of trembling, as though in fear, made a mad dash across the range. An instant later the steeds of the other boys did the same and three frightened horses were soon carrying their puzzled riders over the hills.