“Give it to the night riders! Let ’em have hot lead! Show ’em how the boys of Double Cross Ranch can stand up for Kunnel Job!”
With each short sentence Chunky was discharging his gun; and as the others kept pace with his activity there was a warm session around that quarter. Even Ally Sloper added to the din by shooting several times, and yelling, though Ned saw if none of the others did, that he aimed high, apparently not caring to take the chances of hitting one of his friends.
The utmost consternation attacked the surprised rustlers. They must have fancied that the whole force of the ranch was upon them, if noise counted for anything.
One man was seen to sway in his saddle, so that another had to help hold him in his seat. Ned himself felt sure that with one of his shots he had wounded another rustler in the arm, for he changed the bridle grip to the other hand, and dashed off at full swing, plainly demoralized.
There was no holding them, because they knew they were in the wrong, and that if their identity chanced to be discovered, in spite of the bandanas with which the lower part of their faces were concealed, the law would step in and deal with them harshly.
And so it came about that the raid on the Double Cross herd turned out to be a fizzle; though only for the prompt way in which the defenders of the prize herd started out to meet the situation there must have been a different story to tell.
“Get the cattle headed for home!” was the slogan that went the rounds; and with Chunky still keeping close to the suspect this difficult job was undertaken. Being experts at the rounding-up process they soon had the herd headed off, and started on a new tack, now making in the direction of the ranch home.
Ned had meant to lend a hand at this work, but something that came up kept him from taking any great interest in the driving of the steers and cows. This was the strange disappearance of his chum, Jimmy McGraw!
CHAPTER XV.
JIMMY’S UNWILLING RIDE.
There was reason for alarm, Ned thought, when he made this discovery. The last he could remember seeing Jimmy was just at the time the second detachment of the cattle rustlers came bursting out from the coulie, with shouts and all the wild clamor cow punchers indulge in when driving stock.