For the last few days I have been a prisoner in the “guest room” of the Bar T ranch-house. This is the middle room on the northwest side. After a certain row here I was clapped into confinement, and the Chinaman had to do the honors for me at all meals. I got friendly with him and found he was getting only thirty a month. 159
When he told me he owned one of the horses in the corral the whole thing was easy. I offered him fifty, gave him exact directions how to find your camp, and told him the best time to start.
If he ever reaches you, you will know where I am, and I want some of you to come and get me out of this. The cattlemen from all over are here, and they accuse me of standing in with the rustlers. What will happen to me I don’t know, but I’m sure of this, it won’t be healthy.
I should think the boys would be down from the north by this time.
Now, Simmy, keep everything under your hat and work quietly. Let the sheep pile up if you have to. Things aren’t ripe here yet to move ’em north.
I’ll be looking for you any day.
Bud.
When Sims had read the entire note twice, a puzzled silence ensued. Men lifted their hats and scratched their heads meditatively. Here among fifty men there was plenty of energy for action once the action was suggested, but very little initiative.
“I allow we’ll shore have to get ’im out o’ there,” seemed to be the consensus of opinion.
“Shore, boys, shore,” said Sims impatiently; “but how? That’s the question. There’s about a dozen real smart shooters on that ranch, and I’m plenty sure they don’t all sleep to once. Besides, the worst part of it’ll be gettin’ near the dum place. If a hoss squeals or whinnies the rescuin’ party might as well pick out their graves, 160 ’cause yuh see only two or three can make the trip.”