CHAPTER IV.

BOB "LEARNS HOW TO RIDE."

"I told Slats to bring the horses around in fifteen minutes, so if you want any breakfast you'd better get a hustle on."

The boys had just come from their room and as it was only a little after six o'clock, they were surprised to find Sue waiting for them. She was clad in a neat riding habit and looked very much like a handsome boy. She declared that she had had her breakfast hours ago, and chided the boys for being such sleepy heads. They finished the meal well within the specified time and found her waiting for them on the porch. At the same time Slats appeared leading three horses.

"Where did that horse come from?" Sue asked pointing to a large vicious-look roan.

"Jeb bought him along with three others yesterday," the man replied.

"Well, why in the name of common sense, didn't you bring one that you knew was all right? What do you know about that horse? He looks as though he might be a killer."

"He needed exercise and I reckoned he'd be all light, but, of course, if they're afraid of him I can take him back and get Betsy. She's safe enough, I reckon."

Something in the man's voice told Bob that he was offering him a dare and that he would be thought a coward if he refused it, so he said:

"Don't bother. I'll ride him."

"Not so you'd notice it," Sue said. Then, turning to Slats, she ordered:

"You get White Foot and make it snappy."

Slats turned to obey but not before he gave Bob a look which made him determined to ride the horse at any cost.

"Please let me have him."

"You mean it?"

"Sure thing."

"All right, then. Your blood be on your own head."

As Sue had said, the horse had a bad look about the eyes and Bob knew horses well enough to realize that he was probably in for a bad half-hour, but, like most boys of spirit, he hated to take a dare.

"You be careful, now," Jack whispered as he stepped to the side of the horse.

"You bet I will," he replied, then, turning to Slats, was holding the horse by the bridle, he asked:

"What's his name?"

"Satan."

It seemed to Bob that there was a note of exultation in his voice as he spoke the name but he thought that, perhaps, it was only his imagination. Grasping the pommel of the saddle he vaulted lightly to the seat and grasped the reins.

Now, Bob was an excellent rider, but here he was at a disadvantage owing to the fact that he had always used the English saddle and this one was of the Western type with a high horn in front. Then the stirrup straps were all of two inches too long and he had no time to adjust them for Slats let go the bridle, as soon as he was in the seat. For an instant Satan stood perfectly still as though trying to make up his mind what to do first. Then he turned as if on a pivot and with a suddenness which all but unseated the boy.

"That horse has never had a saddle on before," Sue declared angrily.

"Yes, he has, too," Slats replied. "Grumpy rode him last night."

He did not add that, in spite of Grumpy's experience riding bad horses, he had been thrown three times.

"Well, if he gets hurt you'll hear from me," Sue threatened him.

Meantime, Satan, having failed in his first attempt to unseat his rider, was trying other tricks. Bucking and leaping high in the air and coming down stiff-legged, having failed to accomplish his purpose, he finally succeeded in getting the bit between his teeth and started for the corral.

"Gee, but he can ride," Sue cried clapping her hands.

"If those stirrups were the right length he'd be all right," Jack said. "But as they are they're not much use to him."

"He shore is some rider," Slats acknowledged generously.

Bob, realizing that he must get control, in a measure at least, before the corral was reached, was tugging at the reins with all his strength and succeeded when only a few feet from the fence. Then, Satan stopped with a jolt which nearly threw him over the pommel. Maddened at this last failure, Satan next tried standing on his hind legs. Up he rose until he was standing nearly vertical. Bob leaned as far forward as possible, sorely tempted to grab hold of the horn of the saddle, but he had read that "pulling leather" was as good as acknowledging defeat, so he kept his hand away and clung to the reins.

"He's going over backwards," Sue gasped.

She was right. Satan, whether by intention or otherwise, lost his balance and came down with a crash on his back. But Bob had thrown himself from the saddle in time to escape being caught and, as the horse scrambled to his feet, he was again in the saddle before he had a chance to bolt.

"All ready for the next one," he cried as he dug his spurs into Satan's ribs.

It was the first time he had used the spurs and, for an instant, the horse seemed too much surprised to move.

"Go on, start something," Bob shouted just as Satan began to buck again.

Up and down he went and for several minutes Bob had all he could manage to keep his seat, but he stuck to it and finally the horse, now breathing heavily, stopped bucking and stood still.

"Next," Bob tried digging in the spurs again.

This time Satan again got the bit between his teeth and started for the open prairie. Bob did not try to free the bit this time but let him run.

"He's going to win out sure as shooting," Sue cried, again clapping her hands.

"He's a plucky kid, all right," Spike, who had joined them, declared.

"And some rider," Fats agreed. "I shore never saw anything pruttier than the way he sidestepped him when he went over back."

It was nearly an hour later when Bob returned riding a thoroughly subdued horse. Out on the broad prairie they had fought the last of the battle and finally, covered with sweat and with sides heaving as he painfully expelled the breath from his nostrils. Satan had realized that he had found his master. After that Bob had dismounted and, standing at his head, had talked soothingly the while he stroked the beautifully shaped head.

"Now, then, old boy, you and I are going to be chums," he told him as he gave him a lump of sugar which he had slipped into his pocket that morning. "And there'll be no more spur work," he added.

Although beaten Satan was not yet entirely ready to acknowledge full allegiance to his new master, but Bob continued patiently to talk and little by little the trembling lessened and at the end of fifteen minutes after he had dismounted, Satan was nosing his shoulder in complete surrender. Then Bob rode him slowly back to the house.

"You did it! You did it!" Sue cried as he came within speaking distance. "Oh, it was wonderful and now he'll always love you."

"I reckon we'll get along all right now," Bob said modestly as he slipped to the ground. "And isn't lie a beauty? And run, why that horse can almost fly."

"Well, son, you did a good job and he's your personal property as long as you stay here," Jeb, who had come from the barn as Bob rode up, declared.

"Thank you, sir. I wouldn't ask anything better," Bob assured him.

A week passed. Every day the boys had taken long rides with Sue and sometimes her father had accompanied them. Satan had proved all that Bob hoped and was devoted to his master. Jack had been allotted a splendid mare named Midnight, as she was as black as coal, and almost as fleet as Satan. The cowboys on the ranch were gradually thawing out, as Sue called it, having learned that the boys were not at all "stuck up" as they had expected. Bob, especially, they had accepted almost as one of themselves, his horsemanship having paved the way to their hearts. Slim had even acknowledged that "mebby that rattler wasn't more'n about twenty feet long" and Slats had even gone so far as to confess that giving him Satan to ride had been a put-up-job on the part of the whole gang.

"But you rid him, dog on my boots if yer didn't, an' it was a job as I would'd hated ter tackle," he grinned.

Sue was a fearless rider and many a race had they had, but Satan was too swift for the other horses, although both ran him a close second.

"I believe that horse of yours can outrun anything on four legs," Jack said at the close of a long race as Bob waited for them to catch up with him.

"Shouldn't wonder if you're right," he agreed.

They had been at the ranch eight days and had begun to feel themselves a part of it when Jeb, returning from a trip to Cold Springs, entered the dining room just as they were sitting down to supper. From the look on his face Sue knew at once that something was worrying him.

"What's the matter, Dad?" she asked.

"Who said anything was the matter?" Jeb smiled.

"Your face did. Come out with it. You know you can't fool me."

"Don't I, though?" he smiled. "Well, it's the Hains gang again."

"Red Hains?"

"Yes."

"But I thought he had left the country."

"So did I, but if he did it seems that he's back again. I met Bob Fisk over at the Springs and he said that he lost most a hundred head day before yesterday. Fisk owns the ranch next to us, just over the hills to the right," he explained to the boys.

"But how did he know that it was Hains?" Sue asked.

"Well, of course, he couldn't swear to it but he and his gang were seen about a week ago just over the border and they were heading this way. So it looks mighty like he was on the rustle again." Then, turning to the boys, he continued: "About three years ago a fellow by the name of John Hains, but better known as Red Hains, organized a gang of cattle thieves and terrorized the country all about here. Posse after posse was organized to catch them but with no success. Several times we thought we had them, but every time they slipped through our fingers. They were a ruthless gang and did not hesitate at murder and more than a dozen men lost their lives hunting them, to say nothing of the thousands of head of cattle which they stole. For nearly two years they were active about here then, suddenly they disappeared and not a thing has been heard of them till the other day."

"Did you lose many?" Jack asked.

"Over a thousand head altogether and got off better than most of the other ranches."

"How far away is Fisk's ranch?" Bob asked.

"About twenty miles to the house, and about half that to where his land joins ours."

"And you think he may come here?"

"As likely here as anywhere else," Jeb said soberly.

"But how does he get away with that sort of thing?" Jack asked. "I mean, what does he do with all the cattle he steals?"

"Well, that's what more than one man around here would like to know," Jeb replied. "But he doubtless had a place somewhere up in the hills where he drove them. Then he would change the brands, blot them, we call it, and as soon as the new brands were healed, he probably would drive them over the line into Mexico and sell them. Many a week have I spent along with others trying to find his hiding place, but, although we combed the territory with a fine toothed comb, so to speak, we never found it Some of the old timers around here believe that he's in league with the devil and hanged if it didn't look very much like it sometimes."

"Did you ever see this Hains?" Bob asked.

"Once. I met him face to face on the trail up in the hills. I knew him right away from the descriptions I had heard of him. He's a big man, well over six feet and must weigh all of two hundred and fifty pounds. But his most distinguishing feature is his bright red hair which he wears long after the fashion of the old Indian scouts."

"And what happened?" Bob asked as the other paused.

"Well, as luck would have it, I had my gun in my hand at the time and when I saw him reach for his I knew that it was one or the other of us, so I fired point blank and him not more than ten feet away. Then the next thing I knew I didn't know anything. They found me several hours later lying in the trail and after considerable fussing finally brought me round. Seems that his bullet has creased my forehead and, seeing me drop from my horse, he had ridden off supposing that he had killed me. You can see the scar now," he added, pushing the hair back from his forehead. "But what gets me is how I could have missed him at only ten feet and I'm considered a fair shot around here."

"Fair shot! He's won the championship eight years running. That's how fair a shot he is," Sue told them proudly.

"Was it possible that your gun missed fire?" Jack asked.

"Not a chance. I had filled the cylinder only a short time before I met him and afterward I found that one shot had been fired and, besides, I remembered hearing the report. No, I just missed him. It must have been one of those peculiar things which happen once in a while and which you can't explain. Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand I would have had him, but the one time I missed."

"Is Hains a good shot?" Jack asked.

"Hains is a streak of lightning with a gun when it comes to the draw and he has a reputation of being a first rate shot. If my gun hadn't been in my hand at the time I wouldn't have stood a chance, as he could beat me to the draw and not half try. I see, you're wondering how he came to miss me or rather to only crease me. Well, I thought a whole lot about that and I can figure out two guesses. One is that he did just what he meant to do and the other is that my shot either wounded him or came near enough to throw his aim off."

"And which guess do you favor?" Bob asked.

"Well, of course, I kind of like to think that I didn't miss him altogether, but I don't know. Sometimes I lean one way and sometimes the other."

"How large a gang does he have?" Bob asked.

"I don't know how many he's got now, but he used to have six or seven."

The conversation then turned to other things and nothing more was said about the cattle rustlers until supper was finished. Then, as he pushed back his chair, Jeb said:

"You folks better stick pretty close to the ranch for a few days at least till we see how things turn out. They may be hanging around or it may have been only a flying visit, but it's best to play it safe."

"Who's afraid?" Sue taunted.

"I am," her father replied soberly and the smile died from her face.

"You needn't be on my account," she said quickly. "I'll be careful."

During the evening Bob and Jack were conscious that the superintendent was worried, although it was evident that he was trying to conceal it. But he was uneasy, going out of the house and coming back at short intervals.

"Poor Dad, he worries more about those cows than anything else in the world," Sue said a little before nine o'clock.

"Do you suppose there's any danger?" Jack asked.

"I expect so. Dad doesn't get all worked up for nothing."

But the night passed and nothing happened. Bob woke once during the night and fancied that he heard the murmur of voices just outside his window. He slipped quietly from the bed without disturbing his brother and crept to the window. But the sound had stopped and, although it was bright moonlight, he could see no one, and he went back to bed to fall asleep almost immediately.

At breakfast Jeb seemed more cheerful.

"To tell you the truth I expected a visit from those fellows last night," he told them. "I had the boys on the watch all night, but they didn't show up and I'm beginning to think that maybe it was only a flying visit and, perhaps, it wasn't Hains after all. Still, you'd better not get too far away from home," he cautioned them.

For three days they did not go beyond sight of the house. No further reports regarding the bandits reached the ranch and the worried look had nearly, if not quite, left Jeb's face.