Boy Scouts on the Open Plains; Or, The Round-Up Not Ordered

by G. Harvey Ralphson

And so the stockmen put their heads together and decided that the time had come to make a determined effort to rid the country of the lawless cattle thieves. In the morning they would send a messenger to the nearest town with a note to the sheriff, demanding that he come straightway out with an armed posse and begin a systematic search for the hiding place of the gang. It must be war to the knife after this between the cow-punchers and the rustlers, who must be made to realize that it would be too hot for them in that “neck of the woods.”

In the morning everyone was up before sunrise, for there was plenty to be attended to on this day. The four scouts determined to ride out in a bunch with Chunky and see the prize herd taken back to the vicinity of Washout Coulie. Then they could employ the balance of the day to suit themselves, perhaps in looking for game that was to be found in the hills near by.

The ponies had all recovered from their sickness. Whatever it had been that the treacherous puncher had dosed them with, either the effect had worn off or else the horse medicine which Mrs. Haines had taken from her husband’s chest must have counteracted the drug. No one was more pleased to learn this fact than Harry, who had a very tender heart and disliked to see even animals suffer.

Jimmy enjoyed that morning ride greatly. He soon caught the spirit of the range, and mounted on the back of his calico pony he drove this way and that, shouting louder than any seasoned puncher, slapping his quirt and doing bravely in assisting to keep the cattle bunched on the drive.

Everything seemed to be quiet around the coulie that had been the scene of their spirited engagement with the rustler gang some thirty hours and more previously.

After the severe lesson that had been taught the thieving pack, it was firmly believed they would remain in hiding for some time now, waiting for the excitement to blow over and the punchers to get careless again.

At the same time, when the scouts started to leave the coulie, bent on skirmishing around to see if they could scare up anything worth while in the shape of game, Chunky thought it his duty to warn them to keep their eyes about them all the while.

“They’re a slick article, boys,” he remarked, seriously, for he had already come to like the chums exceedingly, while the feeling of interest was just as warm on their part; “and since they know by now from Ally that ’twas you as spoiled their plans, they might have it in for you. If so be you run up against any strange punchers, don’t have anything to do with the same. They might be rustlers, ’case you know all these here cattle thieves has been on ranches, some time ’r other, and got fired because they didn’t play fair. Keep your eyes peeled all the time.”

“That’s what all scouts mean to do, Chunky,” advised Jimmy, promptly. “Their motto is ‘be prepared,’ even if they don’t always live up to the same. But we’ll try to keep our eyes on the watch for signs of trouble. See you later, boys! So-long!”

Jimmy was rapidly picking up range ways. All he needed to make him a regular puncher, he imagined, was a cowboy suit with sheepskin chaps and a real range hat, to take the place of the campaign headgear that as a scout he always wore.