Two Boys in Wyoming: A Tale of Adventure<br />(Northwest Series, No. 3) by Edward Sylvester Ellis (books to read to be successful txt) 📖

CHAPTER I. Jack and Fred
CHAPTER II. Riding Northward
CHAPTER III. On Guard
CHAPTER IV. Visitors of the Night
CHAPTER V. "Now for the Ranch"
CHAPTER VI. At the Ranch
CHAPTER VII. The First Game
CHAPTER VIII. Look Before You Leap
CHAPTER IX. Night in the Mountains
CHAPTER X. The Signal-Fires
CHAPTER XI. A King of the Forest
CHAPTER XII. The Tug of War
CHAPTER XIII. A Strange Occurrence
CHAPTER XIV. Missing
CHAPTER XV. Tozer
CHAPTER XVI. Watching and Watched
CHAPTER XVII. Into and Out of the Canyon
CHAPTER XVIII. The Quest of the Cowman
CHAPTER XIX. Into the Cavern
CHAPTER XX. A Climb for Liberty
CHAPTER XXI. How It All Ended

"They had come a goodly distance since morning."

"On the projecting ledge stood a noble buck."

"He was sweeping down upon them like a cyclone."

"He was looking in the direction of the break in the canyon."

You should have seen those youths, for it gives me pleasure to say that two manlier, more plucky and upright boys it would be hard to find anywhere in this broad land of ours. I have set out to tell you about their remarkable adventures in the grandest section of the West, and, before doing so, it is necessary for you to know something concerning the lads themselves.

Jack Dudley was in his seventeenth year. His father was a prosperous merchant, who intended his only son for the legal profession. Jack was bright and studious, and a leader in his class at the Orphion Academy; and this leadership was not confined to his studies, for he was a fine athlete and an ardent lover of outdoor sports. If you witnessed the game between the eleven of the Orphion Academy and the Oakdale Football Club, which decided the championship by a single point in favor of the former, you were thrilled by the sight of the half-back, who, at a critical point in the contest, burst through the group which thronged about him, and, with a clear field in front, made a superb run of fifty yards, never pausing until he stooped behind the goal-posts and made a touchdown. Then, amid the cheers of the delighted thousands, he walked back on the field, and while one of the players lay down on the ground, with the spheroid delicately poised before his face, the same youth who made the touchdown smote the ball mightily with his sturdy right foot and sent it sailing between the goal-posts as accurately as an arrow launched from a bow.

That exploit, as I have said, won the championship for the Orphions, and the boy who did it was Jack Dudley. In the latter half of the game, almost precisely the same opening presented itself again for the great half-back, but he had no more than fairly started when he met an obstruction in his path. The gritty opponent tackled him like a tiger, and down they went, rolling over in the dirt, with a fierce violence that made more than one timid spectator fear that both were seriously injured. As if that were not enough, the converging players pounced upon them. There was a mass of struggling, writhing youths, with Jack underneath, and all piling on top of him. The last arrival, seeing little chance for effective work, took a running leap, and, landing on the apex of the pyramid, whirling about while in the air so as to alight on his back, kicked up his feet and strove to made himself as heavy as he could.

The only object this young man seemed to have was to batter down the score of players and flatten out Jack Dudley, far below at the bottom; but when, with the help of the referee, the mass was disentangled, and Jack, with his mop-like hair, his soiled uniform, and his grimy face, struggled to his feet and pantingly waited for the signal from his captain, he was just as good as ever. It takes a great deal to hurt a rugged youth, who has no bad habits and is in sturdy training.

The active lad who had downed Jack when going at full speed, and nipped in the bud his brilliant attempt, was Fred Greenwood, only a few months younger. He was full-back for the Oakdales and their best player. Furthermore, he was the closest friend of Jack Dudley. In the game it was war to the knife between them, but in the very crisis of the terrific struggle neither had a harsh thought or a spark of jealousy of the other. Fred led the cheering of the opposing eleven when Jack kicked such a beautiful goal, but gritted his teeth and muttered:

"You did well, my fine fellow, but just try it again—that's all!"

And Jack did try it again, as I have explained, and, tackling him low, Fred downed him. While the two were apparently suffocating under the mountain, Fred spat out a mouthful of dirt and said:

"I got you that time, Jack."

"It has that look, but——"

Jack meant to finish his sentence, but at that moment the mountain on top sagged forward and jammed his head so deeply into the earth that his voice was too muffled to be clear. Besides, it was not really important that the sentence should be rounded out, since other matters engaged his attention. The two friends went through the game without a scratch, except that Jack's face was skinned along the right cheek, one eye was blackened, both legs were bruised, and half his body was black and blue, and it was hard work for him to walk for a week afterward. The condition of Fred, and indeed of nearly every member of the two elevens, was much the same.

But what of it? Does a football-player mind a little thing like that? Rather is he not proud of his scars and bruises, which attest his skill and devotion to his own club? And then Jack had the proud exultation of knowing that it was he who really won the championship for his side. As for Fred, it is true he was disappointed over the loss of the deciding game, but it was by an exceedingly narrow margin; and he and his fellow-players, as they had their hair cut so as to make them resemble civilized beings, said, with flashing eyes and a significant shake of the head:

"Wait till next year, and things will be different."

Fred Greenwood was the son of a physician of large practice, whose expectation was that his son would follow the same profession, though the plans of the parents were in a somewhat hazy shape, owing to the youth of the boy. As I have already said, he and Jack Dudley had been comrades or chums almost from infancy. They were strong, active, clear-brained lads, who had not yet learned to smoke cigarettes or cigars, and gave no cause to fear that they would ever do so. It is not necessary to state that neither knew the taste of beer or alcoholic drinks, nor did they wish to learn. They understood too well the baleful effects of such indulgences to be in danger of ruining their bodies and souls, as too many other youths are doing at this very time.

Doctor Greenwood had been the family physician of the Dudleys for many years. The heads of the families were college mates at Harvard, and continued their intimacy after the marriage of each, so that it was quite natural that their sons should become fond of each other. The fathers were sensible men, and so long as their boys' fondness for athletic sports did not interfere with their studies the gentlemen encouraged them, and, when possible, were present at the contests between the representatives of the schools.

When Jack Dudley was presented with a shotgun and allowed to make an excursion down the Jersey coast Fred was his companion, and the two had rare sport in shooting duck and wild fowl. They became quite expert for boys, and before the hunting season set in did considerable fishing in the surrounding waters, and both learned to be skilful swimmers and boatmen.

Mr. Dudley was wealthier than his professional friend, though the large practice of the physician placed him in comfortable circumstances. In one of his many business transactions Mr. Dudley found that he had to choose between losing a considerable sum of money and accepting a half-ownership in a ranch in the new State of Wyoming. There seemed little choice between the two horns of the dilemma, for he saw no prospect of ever getting any money out of the Western land, but he accepted the ownership, the other half of which was divided among three gentlemen, one of whom lived in Cheyenne, and the others in Chicago.

It is perhaps worth noting that although the fathers of Jack and Fred were great admirers of athletics, and, as I have said, encouraged the devotion to them shown by their sons, yet neither was inclined that way in his youth.

"I never expected to own a foot of ground west of the Mississippi," remarked Mr. Dudley, when making a call upon the doctor, "and here, before I fairly knew it, I have become a half-owner in a ranch away out in Wyoming."

"Eventually it may prove worth something," suggested Doctor Greenwood, "for that section has enormous capabilities, and a tide of emigration has been moving that way for years."

"It will take a long time to fill up that country with people. Meanwhile I'll sell out cheap, doctor, if you feel like investing."

The physician laughed and thought the joke was on his friend. He said he would think the matter over, which was another way of saying he would do nothing more than think of it.

Jack and Fred were present at this interview, and listened with keen attention to the discussion of the Western purchase. By and by Fred gave his chum a significant look, and, excusing themselves to their parents, they passed out of the room and up stairs to the sleeping-quarters of Fred. The door was carefully closed behind them, and, drawing their chairs close together, they talked in low tones, as if some dreadful penalty would follow a discovery of what was passing between them. Had any one been able to see the two attractive countenances, he would not have had to be told that the same thought was in the mind of each.

"I tell you, Jack," said Fred, with impressive solemnity, "it would be a shame; it will never do; we must not allow it."

"Allow what?"

"Why you heard your father say that he never expected to go out to Wyoming to look at that ranch he has bought."

"I could have told you that much, without waiting for him to say it. It will be just like him to give it away for a song."

"And who knows but that it contains valuable gold or silver mines? I have heard of treasures being bought in that way."

"That may be," was the thoughtful response of Jack, "though I believe most of Wyoming—that is the valleys and plains—is a grazing country."

"I don't know much about the country, but I have read enough to learn that the greatest discoveries of gold and silver have been in places where no one expected to find them. What I am getting at, Jack, is that your father should make up his mind not to part with his interest in the ranch till he knows all about it."

"How is he to learn, when he won't go near it? Of course he can write to the people out there, but likely they will not tell him the truth."

"He must send some one whom he can trust, and let him investigate."

"That does seem to be a sensible plan," remarked Jack, as if the thought had not been in his mind from the first.

"A sensible plan!" repeated the enthusiastic Fred,