CHAPTER XXII
BACK TO THE RANCH
Perhaps, after all, it was due to the peculiar natures of the two professors that Nort and Dick were enabled to make their escape as easily as the lads did. Primarily Professor Wright and Professor Blair were scientists, whatever else our heroes accused them of in their own minds. And though the men surrounding the mysterious prospectors might be scoundrels, in a sense, they did not have orders to be extra vigilant after Dick and Nort had been placed in the tent; so no general guard was kept over the camp.
Thus it was, that as soon as the lads stepped out of the cut tent, they found no one to oppose their progress. Too much dependence had been placed on the Greaser guard. Who would have supposed that Nort carried a bottle of paregoric?
Or, granting that it was known he had it, would you have imagined that he would use it as he did? The whole affair was so ridiculously simple that perhaps this offered a reason for its success.
For it did succeed.
Stepping softly over the rough ground back of the tent, the boys made their way some little distance from it before they hardly dared breathe freely. Then as they were aware of the silence of the night, wrapping everything in its somber robe, slashed here and there with insertions of gleaming moonbeams, their hearts beat higher with hope.
They looked toward the other tents where, doubtless, the professors and their helpers were sleeping. Then Nort and Dick caught the snorting of the cattle in the improvised corral—Diamond X cattle unlawfully taken.
"Wish we could let 'em out—stampede 'em," whispered Nort.
"Don't think of it!" cautioned Dick to his more impulsive brother. "If we can get our horses away without raising a racket we'll be mighty lucky."
The boys had, earlier in the evening, noted where Blaze and Blackie were tethered, and now they paused long enough to get their bearings, and then made off in the direction of their ponies. They dared not stop to look for their saddles or bridles. If they got away at all they must ride bareback, and with only the loop of a lariat around the necks of their steeds.
Fortunately Blackie and Blaze were gentle ponies—not too gentle—but, in comparison with a bucking bronco, they were as carriage horses to a racer. The boys knew they could manage their mounts once they were on their backs.
Step by step, moving cautiously, hardly daring to breathe, Dick and
Nort made their way to the ponies.
"Take it easy at first," cautioned Nort to Dick, as he slid his hand along the lariat, intending to follow it up until he reached the peg, which he could pull out.
"Which way you going to ride?" asked Dick.
"North," was the answer, for Nort had sensed that point of the compass. "After we get some distance away we can figure out which trail we ought to take."
"Anything to get away," murmured Dick.
Working quickly and silently, the boy ranchers soon released their ponies from the tethering ropes and managed to mount them, though it was not easy, owing to the lack of stirrups. But eventually they were on the backs of their mounts, and, looping a bight of the rope around the heads of Blaze and Blackie, made a sort of bridle.
Luckily the animals were not hard to guide, and a little later Dick and Nort were urging them along on the grass-covered ground, which provided so soft a cushion for their feet that scarcely a sound resulted.
"I think we're going to make it!" whispered Dick to Nort as they moved along, the horses climbing up out of the swale in which the mysterious camp was located. The moonlight gleamed down on the white tents, including the one from which the boys had cut their way.
"Don't be too sure—don't crow—we're not out on the open range yet," cautioned Nort, this time less inclined to haste than was Dick.
But their departure did not seem to be noticed. Any noise the horses made must have been covered by the lowing, snorting and occasional bellowing of the cattle in the corral.
And so it came about that Dick and Nort, by the exercise of their wits, with which our American youth are so richly endowed, had outwitted their enemies. Though why they should have been detained as prisoners they could not fathom.
"Guess we can take it a little faster now, can't we?" asked Dick, as they came to a fairly level, open place. The mysterious camp was now out of sight, though not out of mind.
"Yes, we can chance it, though without a saddle and bridle we are taking a chance."
The boys were never so glad as now that they knew fairly well how to ride, and that their steeds were not like many of the wilder western horses. Blaze and Blackie seemed to know that their young masters were at a disadvantage, and they trotted along as though under full guidance.
"I wonder what it all means—back there?" voiced Dick, as he rode along beside his brother. Nort did not have to ask what Dick referred to—it was the mystery camp.
"I don't know," Nort answered. "But I'm sure of one thing. As soon as we can get back to Diamond X we'll organize a raid on that outfit. It's the headquarters of the rustlers—or one gang of 'em—I'm positive."
"Looks so," agreed Dick.
They rode on at good speed now, though they were totally at a loss to know whether or not they were proceeding in the right direction to bring them to Diamond X ranch. Nort found himself regretting the capture of his gun, when Dick, who was a little ahead, suddenly pulled up his horse, as best he could with the improvised reins, and called:
"Hark!"
Nort stopped and listened. To the ears of the boy ranchers was borne the unmistakable sound of galloping horses.
"If they're coming after us!" said Dick sharply, "I'm going to——"
"It can't be that bunch," interrupted Nort, evidently referring to the professor's camp. "They're behind us. This sound comes from in front."
"Maybe it's Bud looking for us!" exclaimed Dick, and before his brother could comment, they both saw riding toward them in the moonlight, up from a little valley, several cowboys. The form of more than one was familiar to Dick and Nort, but as they saw their cousin in the front rank they cried out:
"Bud!"
"There they are!" yelled Bud in answer, and a moment later our heroes were among their friends.
"Where have you been? What happened? Are you hurt?"
These were only a few questions fired at the escaped prisoners, and as they managed to tell their story there were ominous growls and comments from the cowboys with Bud.
"The scoundrels! Rustling our cattle!" cried Bud. "We'll fix 'em!"
"They're doing something else besides rustling your cattle," declared Nort. "Let's go back to Diamond X and organize a crowd to raid this camp! We haven't enough men here, and Dick and I haven't any guns," he added.
"All right," assented Bud, after a moment's thought. "We can do better in daylight, anyhow. Back to the ranch it is!"
And as the rescue squad turned to go back Nort and Dick rode with them, their thoughts busy with many topics.