CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Uncle Fred," Adrian told him, realizing what a struggle must be going on inside, when the other talked in this strain. "Things can't be any worse for you than they seem right now; and who knows what might turn up to bring about a change. Anyhow, I believe in sticking it out. If it gets to the worst, why, between you and me there might be a chance for you to run down to Arizona, and be the overseer at the Mackay place; because I happen to know that his foreman, Si Ketcham, is going to marry a girl who owns a ranch, and that he expects to throw up his job with Donald's dad pretty soon."

"Oh! that would be just the thing, if only _she_ didn't know where I'd gone!" exclaimed the other, eagerly; "but let's forget my troubles for a while, Adrian, and talk of other things. You'll want to know all about matters here, how many cattle have been carried off the last year, and what's left. Come with me into this bunk house, where we can sit down, and have it over with."

As they turned the corner of the long, low building they came upon a crouching figure. It was Mr. Thomas, who started to limp away at their approach.

"Who's this tramp?" asked Uncle Fred, quickly.

"He's a poor fellow," explained Adrian, "whose horse died under him while he was on the way to see if he could get a job with you, taking care of the ranch books. All he asks is his board in payment for his services. I took him back of me on my pony, thinking we might keep him, for a while anyhow, till he felt better. He's sick now, and badly off, you see."

"I should say I was in a tough corner all around," mumbled the man; "and p'raps it'd be better for me to go as soon as I'm able. Don't bother about me; I c'n hang out around the bunk house here, and get a bite now and then, till there's a wagon going off, when mebbe you'll let me ride. I've changed my mind about wantin' to take up a job here; too much excitement to suit me. I'm all of a tremble right now with hearing what I did."

"Oh! all right, Mr. Thomas, please yourself," said Adrian, with a shrug of his shoulders; "you can stay around awhile, and the first chance that comes along make a shift of quarters. The boys'll see that you get something to eat; or else ask the Chink cook."

As he and the deposed manager entered the building, he went on to explain a little further, seeing that Uncle Fred looked curious.

"He's pretty much of a harmless fellow, I take it. All the way here he kept telling of things he had done until you'd think he was a hero if ever there was one; but I reckon it's all brag with him, and that he's as timid as they make them. But let's sit down here, and have a good chin, Uncle."

They were alone in the bunk house, as far as Adrian could see, so he did not hesitate to speak freely concerning his plans, especially with regard to having sent for the sheriff and his posse, with the idea of opposing any hostile move the lawless Walkers might undertake, upon finding how conditions had changed with the coming of the real owner of Bar-S Ranch.

"It may pass off without open trouble," Adrian concluded, "but if half I've been hearing about this Hatch Walker is true, I don't think he'll stand by and see his sway of power over the section knocked out, without making some sort of fight. He may not come into the open, but there are lots of ways of burning ranch buildings, or running off stock, that could be tried. One thing I'm determined on, and that is either I'm going to be boss of my own outfit, or else there won't be any outfit left on Bar-S Ranch!"

"Good! I like to hear that sort of talk. It's the stuff I used to put up before I was so unfortunate as to run across a woman who was bent on marrying me. There was where I made my one great mistake. The widow was too much for me, and almost before I knew it we were spliced. You can imagine how I felt later on when first I learned that Mrs. Smeed was really the sister of Hatch Walker. Oh! well, here I am talking about my personal affairs again, when I said I'd let them drop."

"First of all," said Adrian, "you must give me a list of the punchers who are employed on the range here, and put a cross in front of every name belonging to a man you have any reason to believe is connected with the Walkers."

"Oh! I can do that easy, and right now," replied the other quickly. "I know them all, for haven't they laughed at my orders of late, after they learned how I was badgered by a woman, me who had always been a _man_ before. Shall I write them out now for you, son?"

"Yes, because I will want to weed out the goats from the sheep pretty soon, and at that time a mistake might cost us dear. Only the faithful shall be put on guard. The ones you black-ball will get their month's pay, and be made to walk the plank by night-time, if possible; because who knows what may happen once darkness comes along; and a traitor in the camp is worse than three open foes."

"Right you are there, Adrian; and it tickles me to find you so clever at sizing things up."

He busied himself with pencil and paper for several minutes; after which he handed over the list he had made out.

"You see," Mr. Comstock presently said, as Adrian looked over the list, "we've got ten punchers here just now, though time was when we needed nearly twice that number; but then the herds ain't what they used to be, what with two big hauls, and some hard luck last winter in a blizzard."

"And you seem to have put a cross in front of just five out of the ten names; so it looks as though you couldn't trust half your force," the boy remarked.

"Just so, Adrian," came the reply. "She let some of my best men go because they wouldn't take orders from her. In time p'raps the rest of the decent ones'd have been weeded out too; they were always in hot water with the missus, and threatening to throw up their jobs, only I begged them to stand by me, or I'd quit too. You can depend on the five through thick and thin."

"One of them is Frank Bowker, the man you sent to town, so that leaves just four on deck right now; with my three new hands that makes seven of the right sort; and then the three of us boys adds up ten, just enough to handle things if we have to."

"And count me in with you, because I'm not too old to throw a rope or ride the wickedest cayuse in the bunch; fact is, there's only one thing on the face of this earth I seem to be afraid of. I won't mention names, son, because you know what that is without my saying it."

"Supposing now that those four rustlers made a bee line for home as soon as the one we had with us part of the way here could get back to his mates, and set them free, what do you expect would happen?" Adrian inquired.

"Well," said Mr. Comstock, "if Hatch Walker was home the chances are the first thing he'd do would be to knock those unlucky punchers sky-high. Depend on it the next time you come across any one of that bunch you'll notice black eyes in plenty."

"And then what else?" continued the boy.

"You see, Hatch, he's run things so long around here now, at his sweet will, that like as not he'll think of that bunch of cattle as belonging to him. And getting a lot of his boys together he'll even come swinging along this way to try to run 'em off the second time, and in broad daylight, too."

"Well, he certainly is a bold one for a fact, and it's about time he had his wings clipped!" declared the boy, surprised at the condition of affairs in the region that had, during the lifetime of his father, been a peaceful community, stirred up only once in a while when some herder of sheep angered the cow-punchers, and a little shooting followed.

"I'm wondering if I could manage to get into my room through the window without Josie seeing me," Uncle Fred continued.

Then seeing the boy's look of astonishment he went on to explain.

"You see, I came running out so fast I hadn't time to think of picking up my belt, and putting it on; so my gun is in there. And the worst of it is, I can't enter my room without passing through the one _she_ occupies. That's how she manages all the time. Just now I wouldn't like to let her get hold of me. I never yet struck a woman in all my life, and no matter what happens I'm getting too old now to begin on a new tack. So, there you see what a fix I'm in, son."

"Oh!" laughed Adrian, "you could borrow a gun from one of the boys who might happen to own an extra one. Don't have anything to do with Aunt Josie until we see how things turn out here. Perhaps there'll be a big change come along, and the situation will take on a new phase. But suppose the Walkers do make a daylight raid, what about the other herds that are out on the range?"

Mr. Comstock jumped to his feet excitedly.

"There's two big lots, and they'd get 'em as easy as falling off a log, that's dead sure!" he exclaimed; "and to think of me sitting here taking things easy when I ought to be outside hustling every puncher off to drive the balance of our cattle into the corrals, where we could stand guard over them tonight, or till the sheriff comes, anyway."

"But there must be some system about what you do, Uncle Fred," interposed Adrian.

"Yes, sure there must, but what do you mean by that, son?"

"There are fourteen punchers all told, and five of them you can't depend on to do the right thing; is that so?" continued the boy.

"Yes, and now I see what you mean, Adrian; we must fix it so that the greater part of each bunch of drivers will be our stand-by men," the deposed manager said, hastily.

"Yes, if two gangs go out let three of the suspects accompany the one that has five of our fellows along, so that if they desert, or try any tricks, they'll be at least outnumbered. Billie needn't do any riding because I reckon he's nearly played out. That would leave two others to go with me and a couple of the Walker sympathizers; and depend on it I'll keep an eye on that pair good and hard. If they try any funny business they'll be sorry, that's all. So fix things that way, Uncle Fred; and chances are we'll get all the cattle safely home before the Walkers come along."

"You're a great hand to plan things, son; and I'll do that same; only I hope I can get the loan of a spare gun, if I'm to be left at home when the rest of you go off. I'd be afraid of my life otherwise, I give you my solemn word for it."

They left the bunk house after that. As they did so a face showed up at one of the windows further on, proving that some one had taken the trouble to listen, in hopes of hearing what plans they made; and it was the face of one of the suspects, in the bargain.