“Steady there!” he called out sharply.
Scotty stiffened and glared at him.
“Don’t think I’m all in,” he growled, frowning at his partner.
With a flying leap he was in the saddle and dashed up to Mason leading a spare horse.
“What kind of a horseman are you, laddie?” he asked.
“Well, I never took any medals for fancy riding,” he confessed.
Scotty grinned. “We have a nice little ride ahead of us,” he said, as he turned and watched Red coming up.
Mason mounted his horse and the party started. Scotty was leading and singing snatches of Scotch songs. Mason lapsed into a moody silence and Red looked at him curiously as they rode along. The Easterner was thinking of the girl Red had mentioned and wondered if she was the girl his father had spoken of. Turning to Red he asked:
“Who is this Miss Josephine you spoke to Scotty about?”
“That’s old man Walters’ girl,” answered Red, as he rode his mount closer to Mason’s horse.
“She’s the idol of the ranch,” he continued, “and the boys would fight for her at the drop of the hat. With the exception of one or two,” he added with an oath.
“How’s that?” queried Mason in surprise.
“Well,” grumbled Red, “there’s two cursed onery punchers on our range that I don’t trust no more then I would a rattlesnake.”
Mason glancing ahead, noticed that Scotty had pulled his horse in and was listening with jaws tightly set. “Red, why don’t Walters get rid of these men?” queried the Easterner, coming back to the subject.
“Oh, they are good men on the range, and the old man hates to let them go,” replied Red with a vicious look. “Ain’t I right, Scotty?”
“Good, hell,” the Scot snarled, “if I had my way I would have cleaned up for them long ago.”
“Well,” declared Red with a grin, “he’s got that out of his system. Scotty and those two punchers get along just like two strange bulldogs.”
Mason was getting decidedly interested. “What particular thing have you got against these men?” he asked.
The face of the cowboy took on a grim look.
“I have a suspicion they are running our cattle, and the foreman thinks so, too,” he explained, “but they are slick about it and we can’t get anything on them yet. Our foreman is sheriff of this county, and if he ever gets any evidence he will push them to the limit, for he is a bad man when he gets started. You see, Jack,” Red continued, “there’s a ranch up the valley from us run by a man named Ricker. His boundary line touches ours and these two men used to work for him. Ricker is as crooked as they make them and we think these two men are spotting our cattle for Ricker and helping him run them over the line.”
“It begins to look as if I am going to have an interesting time out here,” mused Mason to himself.
“Do you know, Red, I think I am going to like this life; that is, if I can get used to this rough riding,” he finished tersely, as he squirmed in the saddle.
Red laughed.
“You’ll soon get used to hard riding if you stick with us,” he said.
“Yes,” chimed in Scotty with a grin, “but don’t let that redhead try to show you how to do any trick riding.”
Sullivan had a shock of red hair, but he didn’t like to be reminded of the fact.
“Why you grinning idiot,” he said with withering sarcasm, “I can stop you on any stunt you want to try with a horse.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” flared Scotty; “there’s going to be games at the ranch next month, and if you can beat me on trick riding, you can pick out the best Stetson hat at the Post that money will buy.”
“That bet goes,” agreed Red, shaking hands with him.
Mason looked on with an amused smile as he listened to the two friends wrangle.
“Scotty thinks he’s the only thing that ever stepped in boots when it comes to riding a horse,” declared Red testily.
“I don’t see why those two men you speak of should have anything against Miss Josephine,” said Mason, breaking a long silence.
“I can explain that,” replied Red with a chuckle, “one of these men goes by the name of Tom Powers. He came from the East, and is well educated. He had the nerve to try to make love to her, and one day he became offensive. Then she turned him down cold and he got sore on her. The other cuss is a half-breed Mexican, and goes by the name of Pete Carlo. He went to work with Powers for the Bar X outfit.”
“The only thing Pete can do well is to throw the reata,” broke in Scotty.
“Yes, he’s a fiend at that stunt,” assented Red. “Buck Miller is the only man on the range that’s got a chance with Pete. They had a contest a short time ago, and Buck got an even break with him. I expect——”
Red broke off suddenly and stared hard to the right. Mason following his gaze saw a girl on horseback. She was too far off for him to make out her features, but he could see that she sat her horse with perfect ease, and was riding at a moderate pace.
Scotty saw her at the same instant, and pulled his horse sharply to the right as he whistled shrilly to her. The girl looked around and raised her hand in recognition, then bending low in the saddle she urged her horse at a breakneck pace.
“Miss Josephine herself,” exclaimed Red with a broad grin. “She’s spotted us and wants to beat us in.”
Scotty had accepted the challenge and the race was on. Soon both riders were lost to vision in a cloud of dust.
“It’s two miles from here to the ranch, and Scotty ain’t got a chance to overtake her,” Red said at last. Mason heaved a sigh of relief when Red soon after pointed out the ranch to him. It was a large roomy building with a wide porch and immense cottonwood trees for shade. Mason dismounted and followed Red who was leading his horse to the corral.
CHAPTER II—THE GIRL
Red Sullivan, having secured both horses, started with Mason to the house. As they neared the porch they heard the girl talking in a tone of reproof to Scotty. He was twirling his hat like an awkward school boy. Red stopped Mason and whispered:
“Jack, if you want to hear a man get called down right and proper, listen. That’s her father on the porch,” he added.
Mason drew back and watched the scene with keen amusement.
“Scotty!” the girl was saying, “you have been drinking, I’m ashamed of you, and of all times when you should have kept sober. What will this gentleman from New York think of us?” she demanded imperiously.
Suddenly catching sight of Mason she turned swiftly and entered the house. Red was fairly exploding with laughter at Scotty’s discomfiture.
“Come on, Jack,” he said with a grin. “I’ll make you acquainted with Mr. Walters.”
Scotty had started for the corral. As he was passing them Red could not restrain from a sly dig.
“Guess I was right on that call down stuff, eh?”
Scotty scowled and strode past him without a word.
Red introduced Mason to the owner of the ranch. Mr. Walters was a tall and powerfully built