CHAPTER XVII.

THE SHREWD OLD FOX.

"He's wise to the game!" Jimmy whispered close to Ned's ear, as they all stood and stared at the puncher who held the dead carrier pigeon in his hands.

It must have been a great shock for Ally Sloper. For the first time he realized just how suspicion had come to fall upon his head; and with the note which he had sent out fastened to the leg of that same messenger bird in their possession, those in charge of Double Cross Ranch during the absence of the owners knew to a certainty of his guilt.

Some movement on the part of the scouts must have told him he was being observed, for he suddenly turned his head and looked straight at them.

Ned knew there was danger of the baffled conspirator becoming furiously angry and attempting something wicked. He might be ready to take all sorts of chances, if he could but vent his rage upon those whom he suspected must have been the main cause of his defeat.

It happened that Ned was holding his rifle in his hands at the time, being about to clean it, and he instinctively threw the muzzle of it forward, so that he covered the puncher.

Although Sloper had known that he was under the ban, and suspicion directed toward him, as yet no one had thought to take his gun away. The weapon hung from his side where it could be reached in a fraction of a second, should an occasion suddenly arise calling for action.

Knowing the clever way these cowmen have of using their tools, Ned did not mean that he and his chums should be made victims to the ungovernable rage of a "caught in the trap" schemer.

"Hold up your hands, quick now, Sloper!" was what he told the other; and if he had taken a page from the life of a cowboy Ned could not have put his demand in plainer language, for this was the customary salutation of one puncher meeting another whom he had cause to believe had evil designs on his life.

The man hesitated at first. He looked on the scouts as tenderfeet, and it galled him terribly to have to submit to being ordered around by a mere boy. But there was something about Ned's way of speaking, not to mention the businesslike air of his frowning rifle, that warned him it would be a pretty risky thing to defy the scout master.

Besides, there were three more fellows in khaki close behind Ned, doubtless with other guns that could be brought to bear on him like a flash, if so be he ventured to disobey. And treacherous scoundrel though he might be, Ally Sloper valued his miserable life.

So he dropped the bird and elevated both hands above his head, showing that he surrendered to superior force and conditions which he was powerless to change.

"Jack!" called out Ned, keeping his eyes riveted on the man and never swerving that threatening rifle a fraction of an inch.

"On deck, Ned," came the answer, close to his shoulder.

"Step out there and relieve Sloper of his gun. Be careful not to get between us, remember. If he's going to be allowed to walk around till Harry's uncle comes back to settle his case, I don't think it's wise he should go armed. Men sometimes get mad and do things they're sorry for afterwards. You hear what I'm saying, Sloper. There's no harm going to come to you until Colonel Job comes back; but it's just as well that your claws are trimmed. And if you know what's good for you, don't try any kind of slippery trick on us. I can shoot to hit, and I will. Get that?"

"Oh! that's all right," replied the other, in an apparently careless tone, though his face was drawn with anger and his eyes blazed with the venom of a panther at bay, "keep right along with your little circus. It gives you some fun and it don't hurt me any. Somebody's been killin' one of my birds, and that's what I'm huffy about."

Ned waited until Jack had stepped forward and whipped the heavy revolver out of its leather holster before he went on to say anything further. When this had been accomplished he proceeded to tell the man something more.

"A hawk was your undoing, Sloper. It pounced on your bird and was going to make a meal of it, when one of my chums used his gun to knock the pirate over. Then we found a little note fastened to the bird's leg. I have that note here, and mean to give it to the Colonel when he gets back. I won't say what it contains; there's no need of it with you. But we expect that Colonel Haines will have little trouble in fastening the guilt on the right party, after he sees the handwriting and compares it with that of the punchers working for him. And then it'll be good-bye for some one."

"Yes," declared Jimmy, hotly, determined to have his say in the matter, "and the same feller ought to thank his lucky stars if he gets away from here without being treated to a rope necklace, or given a coat of tar and feathers. I've heard that men have been up against that sort of medicine out here for less things than tryin' to turn the herds of their employers over to the cattle rustlers."

The puncher looked at Jimmy, and his upper lip drew back with what was more like a snarl than anything else.

"You got to prove a thing first," he snapped. "It's easy to say that a man's gone bad, but my word's as good as the next one. Wait and see what the Kunnel thinks. You're all down on me, I know, but you don't see me shakin' in my boots, do ye? Somebody hooked one of my birds, I'm asayin', and used it to send a message with. That's all there is to the thing. It ain't agoin' to bother me any, I'm atellin' ye."

"Oh! Chunky told us you'd give us that sort of a yarn," Jimmy declared, "but it don't go down one little bit. We're on to your curves, Mr. Sloper, let me tell you. You'll sing small when the Colonel comes home."

"Rats! Nobody'll be gladder to meet him than me!" asserted the other, with a great showing of effrontery that Ned knew was only assumed.

Ned felt that the chances were anything he said in trying to show the man what an offense he had been guilty of in betraying his employer would be wasted; but he could not resist the temptation to tell him something about scout law, and how boys are being taught in these days to be faithful to their trust above all things. What he took it upon himself to say, in the most pleasant way he could, may have glanced off the other's thick hide, just as water does from a duck's back. Still, there could be no telling; and at some future time possibly some of the plain truths spoken by the scout master on that occasion were liable to rise up in the mind of Ally Sloper to haunt him.

He did not make any reply when Ned finished, only to scowl and remark:

"S'posen I c'n trot along now, without anybody borin' me in the back?"

"As if a scout would ever be guilty of shooting anybody in the back!" Jimmy indignantly burst out with.

"Yes, go about your business, Sloper," Ned told him, "and if I was you I'd have as little to do with the boys as possible the balance of the day. They're talking some about you, and it might be your wisest policy not to wander away to any lonely place, because I wouldn't put it past them to take things into their hands before the Colonel comes back."

The look that appeared on the puncher's face was as black as a thundercloud. Instinctively he clapped his hand at his side and then gritted his teeth when it only came in contact with an empty holster. A cowboy without his ready gun is somewhat of a helpless individual, from the fact that he has come to depend wholly on it in times of trouble.

"If I was heeled I wouldn't ask favors o' any man," he grumbled, "and as it is I reckons I'll have to cave and fight shy of the crowd. The lot's set agin me anyhow, and I'll have to change my berth, no matter what the Kunnel says."

With that he turned on his heel and strode away. Jimmy looked after him, and then drew a long breath.

"Huh! talk to me about nerve," he exploded, "that dub has got them all beat half a mile, and then some. But say, d'ye really think he'll hang around till the Colonel comes home?"

"Chances are he'll beat it before the afternoon gets old," Jack asserted.

"Ought we to let him sneak away, Ned?" asked Harry. "Why not lock him up somehow, and keep him from skipping out?"

"Well, in the first place, it isn't our business to play keeper to Sloper," the scout master replied. "There are plenty of fellows here to attend to his case and I feel that I've done my whole duty when I warned him not to try and leave the ranch until your uncle gets home, Harry. If Chunky and Skinny and the rest think his room would be better than his company or take a notion to give him a warm coat of tar and feathers, it's none of our affair."

"Yes, I can see you sitting around and doing nothing while such a nasty job is on," Jack remarked, with a shake of his head. "I know you too well for that, Ned. If you saw them taking Sloper out and carrying a bag and a kettle along, I'm justly certain you'd call a halt on the operation and stand between the skunk and the boys who wanted to give him what he deserved."

Ned made no reply to this accusation. Perhaps he knew there was considerable of truth back of it, and that, if such a case did come about, he would be strongly tempted to try and restrain the angry and indignant punchers.

The boys loitered around all morning. No one seemed able to do any particular work, save look after the cattle in the stockade, carrying water and seeing that they had some hay to keep them quiet. When the two stockmen returned from the station they would have to decide whether it were safe to drive the herds to the feeding grounds again, and watch them for a while, so as to guard against further trouble.

So noon came and went. Jimmy had no complaint to make on the score of lack of food. He told his chums he was making up for lost time; and the grinning Chinese cook was only too well pleased to dance attendance on the scout, whom he seemed to fancy more than any of the others.

Half of the afternoon dragged away, and it was understood that possibly in two more hours they could expect the absent owners of the ranch to show up, unless detained by something not down on the bills.

It was a very hot afternoon, and as they had not been oversleeping of late, the four scout chums found themselves nodding as they sat on the shady side of the verandah. Jimmy had crawled into the one hammock and refused to budge. He declared that his sleep had been so wretched lately that he had a whole lot to make up.

Now and then one of them would arouse enough to ask some drowsy question, after which they would relapse into silence once more.

This sleepy condition of things was suddenly disturbed by loud shouts, and what seemed to be a rushing about on the part of excited cow punchers.

Even Jimmy raised his fiery head from the hammock to call out:

"What's the bloomin' row about now? Is that the way they always act when the Colonel shows up in the distance? Well, I ain't agoin' to climb out of this snug hammock to go gallopin' over the hot plain just to yell and swing my hat. You'll have to excuse me, fellers."

"But I don't believe it's the Colonel coming at all!" declared Jack. "Look at the way the boys are jumping for their horses, will you? And there's some snatching up belts with guns, and ropes as well. It's something else that's happened."

"I wouldn't be much surprised if that Sloper's nerve had begun to fail him as the time drew near for my uncle to come back, and that he's skipped out, taking chances of being overhauled and strung up, rather than to face Colonel Job."

"Whoop! you're right, Harry, for there he goes lickety-split right now!" cried Jimmy, eagerly pointing with an extended hand.

Looking in that direction they could all see a solitary figure on horseback, speeding over the sun-kissed plain with all the haste possible. It was undoubtedly Ally Sloper, who had finally reached the conclusion that as he would be kicked off the place anyway after his employer had been convinced of his guilt, perhaps he had better not wait upon the order of his going but take a hasty departure.

He was spurring his pony "for keeps" as Jimmy observed. Shortly afterwards a bunch of the punchers broke away from the saddle corral and went swiftly in the wake of the fleeing reprobate.

"Look at him wavin' his hat at the crowd!" exclaimed Jimmy. "Sure I'd hate to be in his boots right now. There must be some hosses just as good in that bunch, and look at 'em ride, will you? I kind of think Ally will be sorry for showin' such a lot of hurry to clear out. He must a got cold feet athinkin' of facin' his boss. He's made a big mistake, I'm tellin' you."

Ned said nothing, but he had read the treacherous puncher as a shrewd rascal, and had an idea Ally Sloper must know what he was doing.

"He gave 'em a good run for their money, boys," Jimmy loudly declared, "just look how tired their poor old ponies seem to be, aholdin' their heads hangin' low, like they'd covered forty miles. But I don't see our friend, Ally, among them. And I guess now he must have got his medicine."

"Wait and ask Skinny there, who's heading the lot," Jack advised him; for he noticed the little smile on Ned's face and believed the scout master was not so positive as Jimmy seemed to be regarding the outcome of the mad race.

Skinny looked gloomy and, indeed, there were few smiles among the seven who had so gleefully started out in his company to overhaul the fugitive and give him a little token of their warm regard.

"Did you overtake him, Skinny?" Harry called out as the returning band trotted past, their ponies lagging fearfully.

"Not so's you could notice the same, sir," replied the stout puncher who answered to so misleading a name.

"Then his broncho was better than any of your mounts, I suppose?" Harry continued.

The cow punchers started grumbling at a great rate, and said some pretty ugly things about the absent one.

"Seems like he was too slick for us, sir," Skinny went on to say, dejectedly. "Co'se we might a cort up with Ally if things'd a been right and proper; but say, it wasn't long before he started to run away from the hull outfit, and we reckons as how the old fox he must a doped all the ponies but his own mount!"