THE LINE HOUSE RE-CAPTURED

After Chick, Dan Morgan, and Ed Joyce had commandeered Antonio's horse and left him on foot they rode as rapidly as they could to the corrals of their ranch, where they saddled fresh mounts and galloped back to try conclusions with the men who had humbled them. They also wished to find their foreman, who they knew was somewhere along the line. Chick rode to the west, Dan to the east, and Ed Joyce straight ahead; intending to search for Meeker and then ride together again.

Meanwhile Antonio, tired of walking, returned to the line and lay in ambush to waylay the first Bar-20 puncher to ride past him, hoping to get a horse and also to leave a dead man for the Bar-20 to find and lay the blame on the H2. He knew that his rustler allies had scouts in the chaparrals and were ready to run off a big herd as soon as conditions were propitious, and he was anxious to give them the word to begin.

It chanced, however, that Ed Joyce was the first man to approach the Mexican, and he paid dearly for being a party to taking Antonio's horse. The dead man would not inflame the Bar-20, but the H2, and the results would be the same in the end. Mounting Ed's horse Antonio galloped north into the valley through West Arroyo so as to leave tracks in the direction of the Bar-20, intending to describe a semi-circle and return to his ranch by way of the river trail, leaving the horse where the trail crossed the Jumping Bear. By going the remainder of the way on foot he would not be seen on the horse of the murdered puncher, which might naturally enough stray in that direction, and so be free from suspicion.

Lanky Smith, wondering why none of his friends had passed him on the line, followed the trail west to see if things were as they should be. He was almost in sight of a point opposite West Arroyo, his view being obstructed by chaparrals, when he heard a faint shot, and spurred forward, his rifle in the hollow of his arm ready for action. It could mean only one thing—one of his friends was shooting H2 cows, and complications might easily follow. When he had turned out of an arroyo which made part of the line for a short distance he saw a body huddled on the sand several hundred feet ahead of him. At that instant Meeker, with Chick and Dan close at his heels, came into view on the other side, saw the body and, drawing their own conclusions, opened a hot fire on the Bar-20 puncher, riding to encircle him. Surprised for an instant, and then filled with rage because they had killed one of his friends, as he thought, he returned their fire and raced at Chick, who was now some distance from his companions. Dan and Meeker wheeled instantly and rode to the aid of their friend, and Lanky's horse dropped from under him. Luckily for him he felt a warning tremor go through the animal and jerked his feet free from the stirrups as it sank down, quickly crawling behind it for protection.

Immediately thereafter Chick lost his hat, then the use of his right arm, followed by being deprived of the services of a very good cow-pony, for Lanky now had a rest for his rifle and while his marksmanship was not equal to that of his friend Red, it was good enough for his present needs. Dan Morgan started to shout to his foreman and then swore luridly instead, for Lanky was pleased to drill him at five hundred yards, the bullet tearing a disconcerting hole in Dan's thigh.

Meeker had been most zealously engaged all this time in making his rifle go off at regular intervals, his bullets kicking up the dust, humming viciously about Lanky's head, and thudding into the carcass of the dead horse. Then Lanky swore and shook the blood from his cheek, telling Meeker what he thought about the matter. Settling down again he determined to husk Meeker's body from its immortal soul, when he found his magazine empty. Reaching to his belt for the wherewithal for the husking he discovered the lamentable fact that he had only three cartridges left for the Winchester, and the Colt was more ornamental than useful at that range. To make matters worse both Chick and Dan were now sitting up wasting cartridges in his direction, while Meeker seemed to have an unending supply. Just then the H2 foreman found his mark again and rendered his enemy's arm useless. At that point the clouds of misfortune parted and Hopalong, Red and Johnny at his heels, whirled into sight from the west, firing with burning zeal.

Meeker's horse went down, pinning its rider under it; Dan Morgan threw up his arms as he sat in the saddle, for his rifle was shattered; Chick, popping up his good arm first, arose from behind his fleshy breastwork and announced that he could not fight, although he certainly wanted to; but Meeker said nothing.

Riding first to Lanky, his friends joked him into a better humor while they attended to his wounds. Then they divided to extend the wound-dressing courtesy. First they tried to kill a man, then to save him; but, of course, they desired mostly to render him incapable of injuring them and as long as this was accomplished it was not necessary to deprive him of life.

Hopalong, being in command, went over to look at the H2 foreman and found him unconscious. Dragging him from under the body of his horse Hopalong felt along the pinned leg and found it was not broken. Pouring a generous amount of whiskey down the unconscious man's throat he managed to revive him and then immediately disarmed him. Meeker complained of pains in his groin, not by words but by actions. His left leg seemed paralyzed and would not obey him. Hopalong called Red, who took the injured man up in front of him, where Hopalong bound his hands to the pommel of the saddle.

Meeker preserved a stolid silence until Lanky joined them and then his rage poured out in a torrent of abuse and accusations for the killing of Ed Joyce. Lanky retorted by asking who Ed Joyce was, and wanted to know whose body he had found just before Meeker had come onto the scene. When he found that they were the same he explained that he had not seen it before Meeker had, which the H2 foreman would not believe. Red captured Dan Morgan's horse and led it up. After Chick and Dan had been helped to mount the Bar-20 men's horses, placed before the saddles and bound there, all started towards Lookout Peak, Lanky riding Dan's horse.

When they had arrived at their destination Meeker suddenly realized what he was to be used for and stormed impotently against it. He heard the intermittent firing around the plateau and knew that Doc and Jack still held the house, and believed they could continue to hold it, since the thick adobe walls were impenetrable to rifle fire.

"Well, Meeker, it's you for th' house," Hopalong remarked after he had sent Red to stop the fire of the others. "You got off d——d lucky to-day; th' next time you raise the dickens along our line we'll pay yore ranch houses a visit in a body an' give you something to think about. We handled you to-day with six of us up north, an' what th' whole crowd can do you can guess. Now walk up there an' tell them range-jumpers to vamoose th' house!"

"They'll shoot me before they sees who I am," Meeker retorted, sullenly. "If yo're so anxious to get 'em out, do it yoreself—I don't want 'em."

By this time the others were coming up and heard Meeker's words, and Hopalong, turning to Skinny and Billy, curtly ordered them to mount. "Take this royal American fool up to th' bunk house to Buck. Tell Buck what's took place down here, an' also that we're going to shoot h—l out of th' fellers in th' house before he sees us. After that those of us who can ride are going down to th' H2 an' clean up that part of th' game, buildings an' all. Go on, lively! Red, Johnny, Pete; cover th' windows an' fill that shack plumb full of lead. It's clouding up now an' when it gets good an' dark we'll bust in th' door an' end it. Skinny, you come back again, quick, with all th' grub an' cartridges you can carry. Meeker started this, but I'm going to finish it an' do it right. There won't be no more line fights down here for a long time to come."

"I reckon I'll have to order 'em out," Meeker growled. "What'll you do to 'em if I do?"

"Send 'em home so quick they won't have any time to say 'good-bye,'" Hopalong rejoined. "We've seen too much of you fellers now. An' after I send 'em home you see that they stays away from that line—we'll shoot on sight if they gets within gunshot of it! You've shore had a gall, pushing us, you an' yore hatful of men an' cows! If it wasn't for th' rustling we'd 'a pushed you into th' discard th' day I found yore Greaser herding on us."

Meeker, holding his side because of the pain there from the fall, limped slowly up the hill, waving his sombrero over his head as he advanced.

"What do you want now?—Meeker!" cried a voice from the building. "What's wrong?"

"Everything; come on out—we lose," the foreman cried, shame in his voice.

"Don't you tell us that if you wants us to stay here," came the swift reply. "We're game as long as we last, an' we'll last a long time, too."

"I know it, Doc—" his voice broke—"they've killed Ed an' captured Chick, Dan, an' me. I'd say fight it out, an' I'd fight to th' end, only they'll attack th' ranch house if we do. We're licked, this time!"

"First sensible words you've said since you've been on this range," growled Lanky. "You was licked before you began, if you only knowed it. An' you'll get licked every time, too!"

"Well, we'll come out an' give up if they'll let us all go, including you," cried Doc. "I ain't going to get picked off in th' open while I've got this shack to fight in, not by a blamed sight!"

"It's all right, Doc," Meeker replied. "How's Jack?" he asked, anxiously, not having heard Doc's companion speak.

"Wait an' see," was the reply, and the door opened and the two defenders stepped into sight, bandaged with strips torn from their woollen shirts, the remains of which they did not bother to carry away.

"Who played that gun through th' west window?" asked Doc, angrily.

"Me!" cried Skinny, belligerently. "Why?"

"Muzzle th' talk—you can hold yore pow-wow some other time," interposed Hopalong. "You fellers get off this range, an' do it quick. An' stay off, savvy?"

Meeker, his face flushed by rage and hatred for the men who had so humiliated him, climbed up on Dan's horse and Dan was helped up behind. Then Chick was helped to mount in front of his foreman and they rode down the hill, followed by Doc and Jack. The intention was to let Dan ride to the ranch after they had all got off the Bar-20 range, and send up the cook with spare horses. Just then Doc remembered that he and Jack had left their mounts below when they walked up the hill to take the house, and they went after them.

At this instant Curley was seen galloping up and he soon reported what Salem had seen. Meeker flew into a rage at this and swore that he would never give in to either foe. While Curley was learning of the fighting, Doc and his companion returned on foot, reporting that their horses had strayed, whereupon Meeker got off the horse he rode and told Doc and Chick to ride it home, Curley being despatched for mounts, while the others sat down on the ground and waited.

When Curley returned with the horses he was very much excited, crying that during his absence Salem had seen six men run off a herd of several hundred head towards Eagle and had tried to overtake them in the chuck wagon.

"God A'mighty!" cried Meeker, furiously. "Ain't I got enough, now! Rustling, an' on a scale like that! Peters was right after all about th' rustling, d—n him. A whole herd! Why didn't they take th' rest, an' th' houses, an' th' whole ranch? An' Salem, th' fool, chasing 'em in th' chuck wagon! Wonder they didn't take him, too."

"I reckon he wished he had his harpoon with him," Chick snorted, the ridiculousness of Salem's action bringing a faint grin to his face, angry and wounded as he was. "He's the locoedest thing that wears pants in this section, or any other!"

"It was a shore fizzle all around," Meeker grumbled. "But I ain't through with that line yet—no, by th' Lord, I ain't got started yet! But this rustling has got to be cleaned up first of all—th' line can wait; an' if we don't pay no attention to th' valley for a while they'll think we've given it up an' get off their guard."

"Shore!" cried Dan, whose fury had been aroused almost to madness by the sting of the bitter defeat, and who itched to kill, whether puncher or rustler it little mattered; he only wanted a vent for his rage.

"We'll parade over that south range like buzzards sighting carrion," Meeker continued, leading the way homeward. "I ain't a-going to get robbed all th' time!"

"Wonder if Smith did shoot Ed?" queried Dan, thoughtfully. "There was quite a spell between th' shot I heard an' us seeing him, an' he acted like he had just seen Ed. But it's tough, all right. Ed was a blamed good feller."

"Who did shoot him, then?" snapped Meeker, savagely. "There's no telling what happened out there before we got there. Here, Curley, you ain't full of holes like us—you ride up there an' get him while we go home. He's laying near that S arroyo right close to th' line—th' one we scouted through that time."

"Shore, I'll get him," replied Curley, wheeling. "See you later."