CHAPTER XXIV

When one has counted so heavily on something, has worked desperately for it, the moment when one realizes failure seems so definite, so unrelieved, that the world spins on unnoticed. Teddy and Roy sat in their saddles, staring down into the valley, despair written in every line of their faces.

“Too late,” Teddy stammered. “We’ve lost. They’ve started the drive. Even if we could catch them, what would be the use? They’d never abandon the cattle now without a fight. And what have we got to fight with? Roy, we’re done! We’re done!”

Roy nodded miserably.

“Looks like it. By the time we got help it would be too late. We’re miles from our camp now. Let me think. We’ve got to do something. But what? They’ll take the cattle to the Jarmey place. Think, Teddy! Think!”

“The Jarmey place!” Teddy fairly shouted the words. “We’ll have to head for there! Now we’ve got it—our one chance! Can we find it, Roy?”

“We’ll find it,” Roy answered grimly. “I know, from what Pop told us, the general direction. Once we get there—”

“We’ll think of that later,” Teddy interrupted. “The thing to do is to reach those empty cars before they load the cattle. Golly, we’re sure giving these broncs of ours a workout! But they’ll stand it, I reckon.”

“Hope so,” Roy murmured, patting Star affectionately. “We can’t afford to let ’em rest now—we’ve got to go on.” He swung the pony about and headed away from the valley, Teddy following. It was not possible to force the horses to the speed they had showed on the ride over. They were covered with foam, and the tiny nerves in their backs were twitching from the effort they had made.

“We’ll be good for another hour, and that’s all,” Roy declared. He had to keep a tight rein, for Star, keyed up as he was to the pitch of excitement, would have taken his opportunity to run fiercely until he dropped from exhaustion. But Roy was a wise rider.

The horses were cantering, but not with that abandonment which means a mile or so at top speed, then the finish. They might find the Jarmey place easily. And, on the other hand, they might have to look for hours.

They rode along, neither boy saying much, with a strange feeling that this journey was to be endless, that they were fated to ride forever over the moon-bathed prairie, up hills, into valleys, skirting groves of poplars and evergreens, now and then leaping small streams. What neither realized was that, from lack of sleep and food, they were getting a trifle light-headed.

“Must have moved it,” Teddy said suddenly, and laughed shortly. Roy looked at him sharply. He pulled Star nearer to his brother’s horse and, leaning over, rested a hand on Teddy’s arm.

“Feel all right, old boy?”

“Me? Sure! Why shouldn’t I? Throat is dry and got a little headache. When I see Mob Jamisson again I’ll give him a headache! Where in thunder are we going, any how?”

“To the old station at the Jarmey place.”

“Oh, snakes, I know that! I mean are we headed in the right direction?”

Teddy did not hear the sigh of relief his brother gave. But when Roy spoke his voice had a note of hope in it.

“I think so, Teddy. We’ll soon know, anyway. If I’m right it’ll be over the next hill. We’ve been going upgrade for the last half hour, and the station is pretty high—Pop told us that.”

He stopped and peered ahead. It was fully three hours since they had left the camp of the rustlers. All that time they had been riding with hope of success driving them on. For the first time Roy felt a wave of lassitude sweep over him. Savagely he fought it off and gritted his teeth. This was no time for sleep. Sleep! What had he thought of that for? Sleep! How pleasant it would be to let his head drop forward and drift off—off—

“Hey! Come out of it! Buck up there, boy! We’ve got plenty ride ahead of us. Don’t cave in like that!”

“Huh? You talk—talking to me? Oh! Hang it all, I did doze for a minute, didn’t I?” Roy shook himself and sat straighter in the saddle. “That sock on the head must have made me a bit goofy. I’m O.K. now. Golly, Teddy, I think we’re almost there! Listen! Can you hear anything?”

Teddy pulled his pony to a sliding stop and strained his ears. Then he uttered an exclamation.

“Cattle on the march! Over to the left! We’re on time, Roy! We’re on time! Head for the station!”

“Straight ahead, isn’t it? Can we make that hill? Take a good start up. Now—”

Teddy felt Flash rear and leap forward. The loose stones gave a precarious footing, and for a moment the boy feared that the pony would go over backward. But he recovered himself, and lowering his head plunged onward.

The noise of the cattle became more distinct. They must be about half a mile to the left, where the level ground allowed cattle to be loaded into the cars.

“We’ve got to make it—rustlers or no rustlers!” Roy panted. “If they’re guarding the cars we’ll take a chance and run through ’em! If I get hit, you keep on. Remember that!”

The shouts of the men driving the cows toward the railroad could now be heard, and Roy and Teddy dug heels into their ponies’ sides. Exhausted as the horses were from their long, hard ride, still they responded bravely, and digging their forefeet into the hill strove to carry their masters to the top.

“If we can reach the cars without being seen—” Roy gasped.

The sentence was left unfinished, for he realized that Teddy knew what was in his mind. They had one chance to save their cattle, and a slim chance it was.

The empties, they knew, stood on a steep grade. It was this incline which the rustlers counted on as a means of getting the cars started and carrying the cows to a place where they could be unloaded without fear of interruption. This place was at the end of the line. Thirty-three cars, loaded with heavy steers, would easily coast eight miles, given a good start.

If they could reach the train before the rustlers discovered them and release the brakes, the train would start, and then nothing could stop it. Peterson’s work would go for naught. The cattle would have to be left where they were, for they could never be driven far enough to be hidden from the punchers of the X Bar X.

These thoughts were whirling through the minds of Teddy and Roy as they spurred their horses up the steep hill.

Ahead of them they saw a long line of mounds, looking like a caravan of camels in the moonlight. As they came nearer the contours took on a more angular form.

“The cars! We’ve won, Teddy! We’ve won! Go on—go on! This is the last lap, Teddy boy!”

Panting fiercely, the boys dashed toward the line of empties, standing motionless on the tracks at the top of the hill. At the same minute they heard a shot and a bullet whined by overhead.

“They’ve seen us!” Roy gasped. “Ride, Teddy, ride!”

Far to the left they could see a huge herd of cattle—their cattle. Men were dashing frantically about, spectres in the night. Streaks of fire flashed into the blackness and winked out, and the solos of the bullets merged into a chorus. The bright moonlight threw the two riders into silhouette, a perfect mark for the rustlers. Suddenly Star faltered, stumbled, went on more slowly.

“He’s hit!” Roy groaned. “Star, don’t give up! Stick to it, boy! Stick to it!”

The pony whinnied with pain, but fought his way doggedly up the hill. A little more! Just another hundred yards!

“They’ve left the cattle! They’re after us!” Teddy shouted. “Ride low!”

In front of them loomed the cars. Roy heard the wood splinter as the bullets pinged into them. Up—up!

“Hop it, Roy! Hit the ground! Let the ponies go; they’ll find their way back!”

At the top of the hill both boys sprang from their mounts. They turned them loose and saw them scamper away, their heels flying in the air. They were headed for home.

The rustlers had come to the bottom of the hill, and now they started up, sensing the plan of action. They shot as they came, hoping a lucky bullet might find the mark. But now Teddy was on the side of one of the freight cars, climbing up the ladder to the top. Roy sprang for the next car.

“The brakes—release ’em!” Roy shouted. “Start from the other end! Release every car! She’ll start herself!”

He ran to the front, and Teddy to the rear. Thirty-three cars make a long train, and never had a freight seemed so long to the young ranchers as they strove to get it started downgrade before the rustlers reached them. Frantically they turned the brake wheels, jumping from one car to another, while hot lead split the air on each side of them. Luckily, not all the brakes were on, or they would never have succeeded. At last Roy turned one of the wheels, and felt the train give a lurch.

“She’s started! Take ’em off, Teddy! Any more on?”

“Can’t tell yet. Here’s one!”

He kicked the cog loose and spun the wheel. For a moment nothing happened. Then a groaning of metal on metal, a creaking of wood, an exultant shout from the boys, and they threw themselves flat on the car roof as the train, gaining momentum every second, pushed through the ranks of firing rustlers and like an invincible iron monster started on its journey downgrade—without the cattle!