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

by G. Harvey Ralphson

Of course, Harry had some important business to transact with his uncle but it was not going to interfere at all with their having a great time. It seemed that they had interested Mr. Stevens in the ranch and its possibilities of enlargement, with greater capital; and the well-to-do automobile maker of New York City had sent his son out to see what he thought of the idea, depending wholly on Harry’s report as to whether he went into the scheme or not.

This being the case it was plain to be seen that Harry was bound to be treated like a young prince while he and his chums were at the ranch and that nothing would be deemed too good for them.

As breakfast was not ready when the boys issued forth, much to the disappointment of Jimmy, who acted as though he had not eaten for two days, they started to look around a little.

“We might as well get acquainted with the lay of things,” said Jack, “because it looks as if we were going to hang out here some little time now. And I want to say, in the beginning, that I expect to be feeling right sore when the time comes to tip our hats to Double Cross Ranch.”

Jimmy gave a grunt at hearing that.

“That’s nothin’,” he asserted, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, “seems to me all of us are pretty much that way right now. And is it to be wondered at, when we took a twenty-five mile run last night without bein’ seasoned to the saddle. But given time, and we’ll get as tough as any puncher around. I think we’ve done right well for a pack of greenhorns.”

“There, your mentioning that word pack makes me think of our burros and their loads,” remarked Ned. “I wonder what became of them.”

“I remember seeing one of the punchers leading the donkeys into the stable,” Harry went on to say, “and p’raps we might find them there. Let’s stroll in and see if Teddy’d know us again, the rascal.”

And as the others were agreeable, they sauntered over to the stable where some of the cowboys’ mounts were kept at times, and which usually housed the saddles and other trappings of the puncher band belonging to the ranch.

It just happened by accident that all of the scouts stopped talking as they approached the long, low building, outside of which could be seen the stout rail at which throughout the day ponies could be seen hitched, sometimes as many as a dozen or a score at a time.