CHAPTER XVI
BUD'S STRANGE TALE
Darkness, which shrouded Death Valley shortly after the search started, was a severe handicap. Even the most skillful followers of a trail, and there were several such among the cow punchers, could do little in the night. Still they rode out in various directions from the Dot and Dash ranch house—big, stern-faced men, with lariat and gun ready and determined looks in their eyes.
Though some of the cowboys had only been associated with Bud Merkel during the short time of their hire, they had come to admire the boy rancher who treated them as his father would have done, with fairness and kindness.
"If any doggoned rustlers have been playing tricks with Bud," voiced Yellin' Kid as he rode off with Nort, Dick and Billee, "they had better make their wills. I'm after 'em, boy, I'm tellin' you!" and he shouted this information to the silent night.
So they rode forth into the blackness. The Shannon brothers, with Yellin' Kid and Old Billee Dobb, made up one party. Snake Purdee with Sam Tarbell headed another, and the various new cow punchers, including one or two who had recently been sent by Mr. Merkel from Diamond X, took up such trail as there was.
At best it was only a series of faint clews that led toward Bud. It was known in what direction he had started that morning, and the finding of his horse near the original herd, and not far from the Smugglers' Glen, gave color to the theory that he had carried out his intention of getting information about the cattle he wanted to ship away. That was as far as clews went.
What had happened to the young man, how he came off his horse, how the pony's bridle was missing—all these were points to be cleared up by the searchers. And it was not easy in the night.
"We can't do much till morning," said Billee Dobb when he and his companions had circled around the wondering cattle of the original herd, without getting any nearer to the solution of the mystery. "Something's happened to Bud to put him out of business."
"Out of business!" exclaimed Nort. "Do you mean——"
"I mean only temporary!" Billee made haste to add. "Bud's in some sort of condition where he can't come back to us or send word. I don't really think anything could have happened to him—I mean anything serious."
"I hope not," murmured Dick, while Nort echoed the wish.
However, as the hours of the night passed, and searching as best they could by the glimmer of flashlights, stopping to shout Bud's name now and then, they did not find the missing young rancher.
"It's getting daylight," remarked Yellin' Kid in lower tones than he was wont to use. Perhaps the strange hush which always precedes the dawn, or perhaps the sorrow that pervaded all hearts on account of Bud's absence had an influence on Kid and he was more solemn.
"Yes, soon be time to eat," agreed Old Billee. "We'll have to go back, though. Didn't bring no grub with us."
This was true enough. When the search started no one thought it would last very long. There was no idea that the searchers would be out all night. Yet such was the case.
"Yes, we'll have to go back and then start out again after we eat," assented Nort.
They rode along for a time in silence. Slowly the light in the east grew. More and more rosy it appeared, now with golden streaks. Morning was about to break forth in all its glory.
"I wonder if he could have had anything to do with it?" spoke Nort suddenly, and apparently asking himself the question.
"Who?" inquired Dick a bit sharply. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the old Elixer peddler."
"Tosh?"
"Yes."
"How could he have anything to do with Bud staying away all night?"
"That's it. I don't know. I'm just wondering. Tosh is a queer old crank, you know, and he may have met Bud and tried to sell him some more of the stuff that Fah Moo got sick on."
"Well, there'd be no harm in that," remarked Billee. "Old Tosh probably tries to sell everybody he meets some of his dope, on the plea that it'll save them from the fate that overtakes so many in Death Valley. No harm in that. Poor, old crank!"
"No harm in trying to sell—no," assented Nort. "But if Bud didn't buy any bottles of the stuff—and he wouldn't be likely to—Tosh might have got mad and kicked up a row. There might have been a fight and——"
"Oh, I don't think so!" interrupted Dick. "That's a little too far fetched."
"Well, almost anything might have happened," argued Nort. "But I wish we'd find him!"
The others heartily echoed the thought. They were nearing, now, the entrance to the defile, or Smugglers' Glen. The sun was just peeping up above the line of round hills which represented the horizon. A new day was being born, but to those from Dot and Dash ranch it was not a joyful day—or it would not be if the mystery over Bud remained unsolved.
"I wonder if, by any chance, he could be up in there," mused Nort.
"Where?" asked Dick, who was gazing off across the range, his eyes intently focused on a small, moving object that did not seem to be either a cow or a horse.
"Up there where we found old Tosh making the witches' broth," and Nort
looked closely at his brother to see what was attracting his attention.
"I mean in Smugglers' Glen," went on Nort, for Dick had not turned.
"What you looking at?" suddenly demanded Nort.
"Why, I thought—I saw—" Dick was speaking in a preoccupied manner, his gaze still fixed on that small, dark object.
Then, so suddenly that it startled all of them, as they sat on their mounts, with back turned toward the defile, there came from the glen a noise. It was a noise of stones rattling one against the other.
Like a flash all turned from observing the object that had caught
Dick's eyes, and the reason for the stone-rattling noise was explained.
It was caused by some one walking unsteadily out of the defile, and the
person who was walking was—Bud Merkel!
For a moment the searchers could scarcely believe that they really saw the missing youth. But as he came nearer it was only too evident.
"Bud!" cried Nort and Dick in a duet as they spurred their horses forward. "Bud!"
"By gosh! 'Tis him!" roared Yellin' Kid.
"But he's 'bout done up!" commented Billee Dobb as he, with Kid, urged his pony forward. "What happened?"
It was obvious that something serious had taken place. Bud was hardly able to walk, and was supporting himself by leaning on a tree branch as a sort of cane or crutch. But his face brightened in the rising sun as he beheld his friends coming toward him.
"What happened?" called Dick, as he dismounted beside his cousin.
"It's a strange story," said Bud in a weak voice. "I've been practically kidnaped and put under the spell of some sort of poison gas."
"Kidnaped!" cried Snake.
"Poison gas!" echoed Billee.
"Who did it?" demanded Nort.
"Rustlers, I reckon," said Bud as he sank down on a bowlder and drank greedily from the canteen Dick offered. "I was surprised by a crowd of men back there," and he nodded back up the gulch. "They shot some sort of vapor at me that knocked me out, and I've been a prisoner ever since. I just managed to get away."
"Tell us about it!" cried Nort.
"And we'll go back there and clean those fellows out!" shouted Yellin'
Kid, reaching for his gun.
He would have put his threat into execution, too, but Bud restrained him with a gesture as he said:
"It's no use!"
"Why not? Did you shoot 'em up?" asked Snake, with the beginning of a delighted grin.
"No," Bud replied. "But they aren't there now. They lit out. That's how I could get away."
"Say, there's more to this than you're telling us!" said Nort.
"Go ahead. Spill the whole yarn—that is if you're able," begged Dick.
"Oh, yes, I feel better now. Give me a little more water and I'll tell you what happened to me."