John Goldfrap.

The Border Boys with the Texas Rangers

They had not had an easy night of it, either. The battle to the eastward of the herd that had started the stampede had resulted in a flesh wound for Walt and a bad cut on the hand for Ralph. But the boys and the cowpunchers had managed to make prisoners of ten of the hooded Mexicans, so that they felt they had not done a bad nights work. If only they had possessed a clew to Jacks fate, they would, in fact, have been jubilant. Ralphs behavior during the fight had quite won him back the respect he had lost by his poor exhibition with the rope. The Border Boys were declared the grittiest ever by every puncher on the range.

The ten prisoners were confined in the barn, but they all denied vigorously having seen anything of Jack. They confessed that their raid had been made for the purpose of getting beef for the rebel army, which had been practically starved out by the government troops.

Bud had just dismounted by the corral and Walt and Ralph were dispiritedly doing the same when Mr. Reeves uttered a shout and pointed to the far southwest.

Wonder what that is off there, that cloud of dust! he exclaimed.

Ill get the glasses, boss, declared Bud.

He dived into the house and speedily reappeared with a pair of powerful binoculars such as most stockmen use.

Mr. Reeves applied them to his eyes and gazed long and carefully at the distant object that had attracted his attention.

What is it? demanded Bud.

I dont know yet. I cant see for dust. But Im pretty sure its a band of cattle.

Walt and Ralph held their breaths.

Our cattle? almost whispered Bud, in a tense voice.

I cant be sure. It might be any band of steers crossing the state. Tell you what, Bud, saddle the big sorrel for me and well go and find out.

Ten minutes later the band of horsemen was riding at top speed toward the distant moving objects. As they drew closer it was seen that they were unmistakably cattle. All at once Bud gave a sharp cry.

Boss, theyre our cows. See the big muley steer in front? Thats old Abe. Id know him among a thousand.

By George, Bud, youre right! But who can be driving them?

He was interrupted by a mighty shout from Ralph Stetson.

Its Jack! he cried.

It is the broncho bustin Tenderfoot as sure as youre a foot high! bawled out Bud.

But whos that with him? demanded Walt.

Dunno; looks like a greaser, growled Bud, who had no liking for the brown brothers across the Border.

And then, at the risk of starting another stampede, the cavalcade dashed forward, waving their hats and yelling like wild Indians.

Mr. Reeves rode right down on Jack.

Boy, youre a wonder. How did you do it? No; stop; dont tell me now. I can see youre about tuckered out. How are you?

Roasted out, rejoined Jack with an attempt at a smile. But his voice was hoarse as a crows and his lips were too baked and cracked to smile naturally.

Great heavens, boy, youve been through an awfully tough ordeal, I can see that.

But who is this personage here?

Mr. Reeves indicated Alvarez, who shrank under his gaze.

Jack forced his voice out of his parched throat.

That is my assistant driver, Mr. Reeves, he said. We have had a good deal of talk as we came along and he tells me that he has a great longing to go back to his own country and stay there. He knows what it means if he comes back across the Border again, dont you, Alvarez?

Si, Se?or Merrill, stammered the Mexican while Bud glowered at him.

Theres something behind all this, Jack, that I can partly guess at, declared Mr. Reeves, but if you really want him to go, let him go.

You hear? croaked Jack in Spanish.

Si, se?or.

Then go.

The Mexican wheeled his horse, doffed his peaked hat in a graceful wave and in a loud, clear voice shouted:

Adios, se?ors!

He struck his spurs home and brought down his quirt. His horse sprang forward. Straight for the Rio Grande he rode and vanished over its northern bank. Five minutes later he was off American soil. On the opposite bank he paused once more, wheeled his horse and waved his sombrero in token of farewell. Then he vanished, so far as the boys were concerned, forever.

Now, forward, cried Mr. Reeves. Bud, you hold the cattle here till I send out some boys to help you bring them in. Jack, you come with us at once. You need doctoring up.

Cant I stay and bring the cattle in? pleaded Jack.

Son, said the rancher in a deep voice, youve done your duty; mine begins now. I havent heard your story yet, but Ill bet my last dollar that youve done a big thing out there, and that the Rangers will be mighty proud of their boy recruits.

And then they rode forward to the ranch house and food and drink, and later to the unfolding of Jacks story.

As Mr. Reeves had prophesied, the Rangers were proud of their young comrades. And not only the circle of Rangers, but the whole state of Texas rang with their praises until the boys were afraid to look at a newspaper. As for Jacks generous action in letting Alvarez go free, none but Captain Atkinson, Mr. Reeves and the Border Boys themselves knew of it, though Bud suspected, or suspicioned as he called it.

A few days later the revolution was crushed, and they heard afterward that Alvarez had died fighting bravely for what he deemed the right cause. A few days later, too, the boys had to leave their kind Texan friends and wend their way homeward.

And now we, too, have reached the parting of the ways so far as this part of the Border Boys adventures is concerned. Here, for a time, we will take leave of our young friends, wishing them well till we meet them again in further stirring adventures. What befell them after leaving Texas and how they acquitted themselves in scenes and situations as exciting and thrilling as any through which they have yet passed, will all be related in the next volume of this series, which will be called: The Border Boys in the Canadian Rockies.

The End.

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