Baker Willard F.
The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek: or, Fighting the Sheep Herders

CHAPTER XX
THE FLAG OF TRUCE

The advantage in the fight was on the side of the Diamond X outfit, even though it was outnumbered. For the Greaser sheep herders nearly doubled the force of the cowboys. But this, in itself, was not such a handicap as would at first appear.

Naturally any cowboy held himself more than a match for any two Greasers, and if this were not enough, the sheep men had the disadvantage of having to cross a stream in the face of fire. This is always likely to result in disaster, even in more modern warfare than that which I am writing about. There are several reasons for this, whether the attacking party, crossing the stream, is afoot or on horses.

Progress through water is always slow. If you have ever tried to run while wading in a millpond or at the stream adjacent to the "old swimming hole," you realize what I mean. It is easier to swim than to run through water, even where it is not very deep. The same holds true for horses. And to attempt to swim was out of the question, for the Greasers, as they must keep their guns out of water.

The only thing for them to do was to start their horses across, with the men in the saddles. And the Mexicans probably knew, from a test, that the water was not deep enough to sweep the animals off their legs.

So then, with the handicap of rushing water against them, the horses could not make much progress, and, while crossing, the enemy force would be subject to the fire of the boy ranchers and the cowboys from Diamond X ranch.

"Well, boys, I guess we'll have to let 'em have it," said Billee regretfully as he saw the advancing sheep men. Nearly all the Greaser force was concentrated on crossing Spur Creek, only a few being left in charge of the animals. "But shoot at the horses first," advised Billee. "I hate to do it, but it's better to have the killing of a horse on your mind than the murder of a man. Though this isn't murder – defending your property against a band of thieves. So shoot at the horses first!"

This, cruel as it may sound, had to be done. It was a case of the lives of the animals or the lives of our friends. For it could not be doubted that, once the Mexicans had gained a footing on the northern side of the stream, they would drive the defenders away – shooting to kill if need be – and then the way would be clear for bringing over the sheep.

Several shots rang out from the ranks of the cowboys, and there was a wild flurry and scramble among the horses in the stream. Two of them were hit and spilled their riders into the creek. But these men grasped the tail of other horses and kept on.

"They aren't going to give up easy," murmured Dick.

"But it's up to us to make 'em," said Bud fiercely. "If they get over it will be all up with us, for they're twice as many as we are."

"They shan't get over!" declared Nort. And it was with the same spirit that the intrepid Frenchman muttered:

"They shall not pass!"

If the boy ranchers and their comrades hoped to escape scathless they were painfully disappointed. For though the sheep herders were under the handicap of having to cross the stream, manage their frantic horses and shoot – all at the same time – they managed to do enough of the latter to wound several of the cowboys, one seriously, as developed later.

And, just as Dick was reloading his gun, he gave a cry and the weapon dropped from his hands.

"Hit?" cried Bud.

"A little," Dick answered, and he tried to smile, though it was not a very good attempt.

"Get back under cover," advised Nort, for there was cover, of a sort, behind where the cowboys were fighting, a range of low hills that would effectually screen the bullets of the Greasers.

"Oh, it doesn't amount to anything," Dick insisted, holding his left hand over his right, for it was the latter that was hit. "It's only a scratch."

"Well, get a bandage on it and come back in the game – if you can, boy," advised Billee, who had ridden up on hearing Dick's cry. "We'll look after it later – when we drive these skunks back where they belong."

This, from Billee, amounted to an order, and Dick obeyed, wheeling his horse and taking refuge behind a hill. There, in anticipation of some casualties, a sort of emergency dressing station had been laid out, with water, lint and bandages. There was water not only for man but for beast, since it was impossible to let the horses go to the creek in the face of the fire from the sheep men. So Dick and his steed drank thirstily and then Dick bandaged, as best he could, his wounded hand. It was more than a scratch, being, in fact, a deep flesh wound, but the bullet had struck a glancing blow and had gone out again, for which Dick was thankful.

Meanwhile he could hear the shooting going on at the scene he had left. The cowboys, riding up and down the bank of the creek on their fleet horses, offered very poor marks for the indifferent shooting of the Mexicans, or the casualties on the part of the Diamond X forces would have been much heavier than it was. Even then several were hit, and Billee's hat was carried off his head by a bullet, which, if it had gone a few inches lower, would have ended the career of that versatile cowboy.

But the quick and accurate firing of the cowboys was having its effect, and it was an effect that was telling not only on the morale but on the fighting ability of the sheep men. For several horses were killed, and a number of men put out of the game.

For a few minutes, though, it seemed that, after all, the attackers would make a landing. But with a burst of furious yells Snake and Kid led a charge against the foremost of the sheepmen and turned them back.

They could not stand the withering fire that was poured in on them and they wheeled their plunging horses in the swirling stream and made for the opposite shore whence they had come.

"Hurray!" cried Bud as he saw this.

"We've got 'em on the run!" shouted Nort.

Just then Dick rode back to join the fray, having bound up his wounded hand as best he could unaided.

"What's doing?" he asked.

For answer his brother and cousin pointed to the retreating Greasers.

"Good!" exclaimed Dick. "Do you think they'll come back?" he asked.

"No telling," remarked Bud.

"I don't believe we'll have gotten rid of them so easily," was Nort's opinion.

There was some confusion now amid the ranks of the sheep men. Those who were wounded were being cared for, and they all gathered around what had been their central camp fire.

"They're debating whether to give up or not," was Snake's view of it.

And if this was the subject of the talk it ended in a decision not to give up the fight. For presently another attempt was made to cross the creek. This time the Greasers divided forces, separating about a quarter of a mile, and thus necessitating a division in the ranks of the cowboys. This, of course, made the odds against the Diamond X outfit rather heavier.

But again the Greasers were repulsed, with several wounded, though the same might be said of Old Billee's forces. Again the sheep men withdrew across the creek.

Again was there a conference, and then the same tactics were tried as at first – the main body came directly across the stream.

But now a new element entered into the battle. For, no sooner had the fight started for the third time than some of the Mexicans began driving into the water, at a point perhaps half a mile from the fray, a flock of sheep.

"Look at that!" cried Yellin' Kid.

It was evident that something must be done. It called for another division of the defending force, now somewhat reduced in numbers because of injuries. But the crossing of the sheep had to be stopped, as well as the passage of the armed men.

And, after a hard struggle, this was accomplished. The sheep were the easier driven back, for the animals were soon frightened and thrown into confusion. But the Mexicans themselves were desperate, and some of them even succeeded in reaching the opposite shore, setting their horses on Mr. Merkel's land.

However, there was a fierce rally against them on the part of the cowboys and they were driven back.

This was not without desperate work, however, and several on each side suffered minor injuries. The trouble was that the cowboys held their enemies too lightly. It was easy, and perhaps natural, for them to despise the sheep herders.

But, after all, these were men, and rough and ready men at that. They had something to fight for – their lives and their charges, and to lose one was to endanger the other. So, for a time it looked, as Bud said afterward, "like touch and go," so near was the tide of battle to turning against the cowboys.

Both sides were now pretty well exhausted, but the disadvantage of having to cross the stream still hampered the Greasers. They must have felt this, for after another consultation among themselves something new and unexpected happened.

A lone rider was seen to separate himself from the hated band on the Mexican side of the creek, and he slowly approached the ford.

"Watch him!" cried Billee, who had picked up his hat with a hole in the brim.

"He's up to some trick!" declared Bud.

"Shouldn't wonder, son," agreed Billee.

A moment later they saw what the "trick" was, if such it could be called. From under his coat the man produced a white flag and waved it vigorously toward the boy ranchers and their friends.

"A truce!" cried Bud. "Guess they've had enough!"

CHAPTER XXI
A LEGAL CONTEST

Holding the flag of truce above his head with both hands, the better to indicate that he was unarmed, the man, a bearded Mexican to all appearances, rode his horse half way across the stream. He was then within easy talking distance of the cowboys and Old Billee called:

"That's far enough, Greaser! Stay right where you are and speak your little piece. Keep him covered, boys," he went on in a low voice to those around him.

"Oh, he's covered all right," replied Bud. And, indeed, half a dozen guns were trained, more or less conspicuously, on the bearer of the flag of truce.

"Well, say what you've got to say," ordered Billee grimly.

"Señors, we have had enough of fight – for the time," came from the herald.

And at the sound of his voice the boy ranchers, with one accord, exclaimed:

"Del Pinzo!"

"At your service, señors," came the mocking retort, and Del Pinzo, for he it was, smiled, showing his white teeth through his black, curling beard. It was the beard which had prevented his recognition up to now. Though there was something vaguely familiar about the actions of the leader of the sheep men. And he who bore the flag of truce – Del Pinzo no less – had been the leader in the attempts to cross the creek.

"Well, what do you want?" demanded Billee. "We might have known it was some of your dirty work, though I must say you've got a pretty good false face on with all them whiskers. What do you want?"

"To cross the creek, of course, Señor Billee, and pasture our sheep on that land which belongs to us."

"Belongs to you! How do you make that out?" demanded Bud, unable to keep still longer.

"Ah, the young señor speaks," mocked Del Pinzo, smilingly. "Then he should know that this land has been thrown open to all who may wish to graze sheep on it."

"This land was never intended for sheep, Del Pinzo, and you know it!" cried Billee. "Even if it was, it belongs to Mr. Merkel, though you'll never see the day he raises sheep – the stinking critters!"

"You say the land belongs to Señor Merkel?" asked Del Pinzo, lowering his hands and the flag of truce, perhaps unconsciously.

"Keep 'em up!" snarled Snake Purdee, and the flag went up again in a trice.

"You know this land belongs to Mr. Merkel," went on Billee.

"Doubtless, then, he can prove it in a court of law," mocked the half-breed Greaser.

"Sure he can!" asserted the old cowboy earnestly and with conviction, though he knew in his heart this was not so. But, as he said afterward, he wasn't going to let Del Pinzo do all the "bluffing."

"Then we shall go to law about it," said the Mexican leader. "And we shall have action against you for shooting at us when we peaceably tried to cross and pasture our flocks on the open range land that is given away by the so grand government of the United States."

"They wouldn't give any to you!" cried Billee. "All the land you'll ever own in the good old U.S.A. will be six feet to hold you after somebody shoots your head off, as ought to be done long ago. You're not a citizen and you know it, and you can't claim a foot of land, even if Mr. Merkel didn't own it!"

"I claim it not for myself – but for my friends, the so poor sheep herders," said Del Pinzo, in what he meant for a humble voice. "I but act as their leader and adviser. I seek nothing for myself."

"First time I've ever known that to happen!" chuckled Billee. "You're generally looking out for number one first of all. Well, if you want to give your friends good advice, tell 'em to go back home and start making frijoles for a living. They'll never earn their salt raising sheep – that is, not on this side of Spur Creek."

"That is to be seen, Señor Billee," mocked Del Pinzo, still smiling. "Once more I demand of you that we are permit to pass the stream and let our so hungry sheep feed."

"And once more I tell you there's nothin' doin'!" snapped Billee. "Your sheep can starve for all of me!"

"For the third time I ask and demand that you let us pass," called Del Pinzo, who seemed to have more patience than Billee, whatever else might be said in disfavor of the Greaser.

"And for the third and last time I tell you to take your gang and your sheep back where they came from!" cried Billee. "Now what are you going to do – fight?"

"Yes, señor," was the calm answer. "I shall fight, but not no longer with guns. I fight you in the courts. My friends, they are of citizens of the United States. They have of a rights to the land and of their rights I shall see that they get. Adios!"

He bowed courteously – he was a polite villain, I'll say that for him – and, lowering the flag of truce, he rode back to join his comrades on the other bank.

For a time there was silence amid the boy ranchers and their friends, and then, as movements among the sheep men indicated that they were getting ready to depart, Bud asked:

"What do you think is up, Billee?"

"Wa'al, I think, just as Del Pinzo said, he and those with him have had enough of powder and lead. Now they'll try the courts. I'm afraid your father is in for a legal battle, Bud."

CHAPTER XXII
NORT'S PLAN

Silently the cowboys from Diamond X ranch watched the sheep herders and their innocent, though undesirable, charges fade away to the south. The Greasers took their wounded with them, and several spare horses they had brought along made up for those that regretfully were shot by the cowboys.

"I hope we've seen the last of that bunch," remarked Dick, tenderly feeling of his wounded hand.

"No such good luck," declared Nort. "Do you really think they mean to try and get pasturage here, Billee?" he asked.

"I sure do," replied the veteran. "They can't feed their sheep much longer on the other side of the creek – they'll have to come here – if they can."

"But we stopped 'em," said Snake.

"Only for a time," said Billee. "As Del Pinzo boasts, now they'll try the courts."

"But that Greaser won't have a standing in any decent court," exclaimed Bud. "He's a jail bird – he isn't even a citizen!"

"How does it come he is working for the interests of these Greasers, some of whom may be citizens?" asked Nort.

"Del Pinzo will do anything by which he can get a dollar or have a little power," was Billee's opinion. "How he got out of jail I don't know. Maybe it's by some power over a government official, and maybe he hopes, by that same hold, to influence the courts against us. Anyhow, he's out of jail and he's cast his lot in with the sheep men for his own advantage, you can gamble on that – not theirs. He has stirred them up to demand certain things which they regard as their rights under the new law.

"Well, maybe they are their rights, on land that hasn't already been claimed, but that doesn't apply here. Your dad owns this land, Bud, and we're going to see he doesn't lose it by any tricks of Del Pinzo."

"He seems to have given up his tricks for a time," remarked Bud.

"But only for a time," added Billee. "He'll have us in court next. Not that there's an awful lot of law out this section," he said with a grim smile, "but what there is can be mighty troublesome when you rub it the wrong way."

There was nothing more to be done now as long as the sheep men had departed. Though at that, Billee and his cowboys were not going to be caught unawares. With all Del Pinzo's talk of applying to the law, he might be "bluffing." He might seek to draw the defenders away and then rush back, getting the sheep across the stream. Once on the Diamond X range it would be hard to dislodge them.

"And it only takes a few hours of sheep on a pasture to spoil it for horses," remarked Bud.

So, fearing treachery, a guard was left at the point where the battle of the crossing had been fought. The remainder of the cowboys returned to the "fort," and from there word was sent to Mr. Merkel of what had occurred.

"So Del Pinzo will have me in court, will he?" remarked the owner of Diamond X ranch. "Well, I reckon I won't worry until I see sheep on my land."

But for all that, Mr. Merkel could not help wishing his papers had not been stolen. For though he might, eventually, prove his claim without them, it meant a delay. And during this delay the other side – the sheep men – might obtain some legal advantage that would enable them to take at least temporary possession of the land in dispute.

And, as Bud had truthfully remarked, only a short occupancy of pasture by the odorous sheep would spoil the grazing and water for sensitive cattle and horses.

For several days after the fight nothing happened. Dick and the wounded cowboys received medical treatment, and all except one were soon on the road to recovery. Poor Lanky had received a grievous wound which eventually caused his death, and he was sincerely mourned.

Meanwhile Mr. Merkel kept on with his ranch work, and the boys, visiting Happy Valley, found matters there going well. They were far enough away not to need to worry about sheep for a time. Then, too, their papers were safe and in case dispute arose as to ownership the matter could easily be settled.

During this comparatively quiet spell, part of which time was utilized by Mr. Merkel in a vain attempt to discover the missing deeds and other documents, the boy ranchers paid several visits to the camp of Professor Wright. That eager scientist was delving away after fossil bones as enthusiastically as if he had never discovered any.

"What are you on the track of now?" asked Nort.

"A Brontotherium," answered the professor.

"What did he say – a bronco?" asked Bud. "We've got some over at our place you can have for nothing," he added with a laugh. "They're not dead yet, though some of the boys who tried to ride 'em wish they were."

"A Brontotherium," explained Professor Wright, "is an extinct animal, something like the rhinoceros, but much larger – more than the size of an elephant, I hope to prove. There are indications that I may find the bones here."

"I hope you do," remarked Dick.

The boys wandered around the camp, and were about to leave the scene of the digging and excavating when Nort uttered an exclamation.

"What's the matter?" asked his brother.

"Look! There's Del Pinzo!" exclaimed Nort, and, surely enough, the figure of the wily Greaser or half-breed was seen moving among the men engaged by the professor to help him and his assistant in digging up fossil bones.

"You have that rascal again, I see, Professor," said Bud rather coldly.

"Well, he certainly is a great help," was the answer. "He has great influence over the Mexican laborers."

"Too much," grimly remarked Bud. They went away, paying no further attention to Del Pinzo though he smiled at them in what he doubtless intended for a genial manner.

"What do you make of it, Bud?" asked Nort.

"Of what?"

"Professor Wright having that rascal with him?"

"Well," remarked Bud, with as judicial an air as he could assume on short notice, "you can look at it in two ways."

"For instance?" suggested Dick, teasingly. "We're in for something good, now," he whispered to his brother, though not so low but that Bud could not hear.

"Well, either Professor Wright knows Del Pinzo is a rascal, and takes to him in spite of that, or he doesn't know it – though how he can be ignorant I can't understand," declared Bud. "If he doesn't – he's the only one who knows the game who thinks Del is any better than a common, onery horse thief!"

"Maybe something will happen, soon, to open his eyes," suggested Nort, as they rode on.

When they reached the headquarters at Diamond X they found Sheriff Hank Fowler in earnest conversation with Mr. Merkel.

"Anything doing, Dad?" asked Bud.

"Yes. I'm summoned to court to prove my title to the Spur Creek land," was the answer. "Hank has just served me with the papers."

"I'm tellin' him he don't need to worry none," said Mr. Fowler, with a genial grin. "He can easy prove his title."

"Perhaps not so easy as you think," remarked Mr. Merkel, "since my papers are missing. If I could only get them back!"

"And I think I have a plan that will get them back!" suddenly exclaimed Nort.