The Border Boys with the Texas Rangers Read online

  CHAPTER II.

  THE HUMBLING OF SHORTY.

  But at the very instant that the Ranger’s finger pressed the triggersomething came swishing and snaking through the air, falling in a loopabout him and pinioning his arms. The gun cracked as Shorty was yankedfrom his feet, but the bullet merely ploughed a little furrow in theground. The next minute he was rolling in the dust for the second time,roped as neatly as ever he had lassoed a yearling, by the rawhide ofCaptain Atkinson himself.

  The captain, who had been in advance, as we know, had not witnessed thefirst part of the drama which had so nearly ended in a tragedy, but hadbeen apprised of it when Shorty’s pinto pony had flashed by him withhalf a dozen shouting Rangers at its heels. The minute it had beenroped he instituted inquiries, and hearing what had occurred, he judgedfrom his acquaintance with Shorty’s character that his presence mightbe needed at the scene of the Ranger’s unhorsing.

  At top speed he had galloped back, arriving just in time to seeShorty’s revolver flash in the air as he brought it down for a shot.Almost as by magic the captain’s hand had sought and found his lariatand sent its coil swishing through the air.

  “Get up!” he thundered to the disgruntled Shorty, who, thoroughlyhumiliated, did as he was told.

  “Let me alone! Let me git at that cub!” he snarled, under his breath.

  “See here, Shorty Swift!” flashed Atkinson, “this isn’t the firsttrouble I’ve had with you. You’re a disgrace to the Rangers.”

  “He was pickin’ on me,” began the Ranger; but his commander cut himshort with a sharp word.

  “Buncombe! Is this the way you obey orders to conduct yourselfproperly? Do you mean to tell me that you can give me any good reasonwhy a kid like that should annoy a Texas ranger?”

  “Well, he did. It was his fault. He—he———”

  “See here, Shorty, are you going to tell the truth?”

  “I am telling the truth, cap.”

  “You’re not. Some of you other boys tell me what happened.”

  One of the Rangers who had applauded Jack’s horsemanship gave a plain,unvarnished account of the whole scene. Captain Atkinson’s browdarkened as he heard.

  “So,” he snapped, “that’s the sort of fellow you are. Well, all I’vegot to say is that you and your kind are a disgrace to the name ofTexas. I’ve warned you before, Shorty, of what you might expect ifyou got into disgrace again. That was the last time. Now I find youbullyin’ a kid who hadn’t done you any harm, and when he gave you whatyou deserved you tried to shoot him. I’ve only got one thing to say toyou————”

  He paused.

  There was a vibrant silence, during which the trampling of the restlessponies’ hoofs and the hard breathing of Shorty were the only sounds tobreak the stillness.

  “Git!”

  The order came like the crack of a rifle.

  Shorty seemed to wither and grow smaller and darker as he heard.

  “Captain, I————” he stammered out. But Atkinson cut him short abruptly.

  “You heard me. Git! This isn’t a cow camp, but a regularly organizedtroop to enforce law and order. You set a fine example of lawlessnessright in the town we have been sent to protect from that very thing.There’s your pony and here’s the pay that’s coming to you. Hit thetrail, and hit it quick.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him, captain. Give him one more chance. I guessit was only meant as horse play and not viciousness.”

  Captain Atkinson turned his bronzed countenance on the speaker. It wasJack. Beside him Walt Phelps had reined up and Ralph Stetson, too, thelatter having been attracted by the excitement from the side streetwhere he had sought refuge at the boisterous entrance of the Rangers.

  “Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said. “Well, young chap, you’ve got nerve andsense; but this fellow doesn’t deserve any pity.”

  “I’m sure he won’t do it again,” Jack assured the captain; “let him offthis time. He’s been punished enough.”

  At this Captain Atkinson could not resist a smile. Shorty’s woebegoneappearance assuredly bore testimony to the truth of Jack’s statement.

  As for the Rangers, some of them broke into an open guffaw of amusement.

  “You’re sure right, young chap,” agreed Captain Atkinson, “but rightnow I’d like to ask you who you and your two friends are. You don’tlook as if you belonged about here.”

  “We don’t. My name is Jack Merrill, this is Walt Phelps and yonder isRalph Stetson, a school chum and————”

  “Waal, by the Lone Star! So you’re the kids I’m to take along, eh?Shake, boy, shake! I thought you were a lot of blithering tenderfeet,but you’re regular punchers. Put it there, Jack. I’m Captain Atkinson,your father’s friend, and————”

  “I guessed as much,” smiled Jack, shaking hands with the grizzledleader of the Rangers who, in turn, almost wrung the lad’s fingers off.“It’s for the sake of your friendship, captain, that I ask you to givethis man another chance.”

  “Boy, you’re a real sport. Shorty, apologize to this lad here and takeyour place in the ranks.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” muttered Shorty, hanging his head sullenly and forcingthe words from unwilling lips.

  “That’s all right, Shorty,” said Jack heartily, “and I’m as sorry asyou are. I didn’t mean to give you such a bump.”

  Shorty took the outstretched hand with limp fingers, barely touched it,and then, remounting his pony, which had been led up, rode off to therear of his comrades. His face was contorted with humiliation and angryshame.

  “I hope you won’t judge the Rangers by that fellow,” said CaptainAtkinson to Jack when Shorty had gone; “we may appear rough but ourhearts are in the right place, as I hope we shall prove to you.”

  “I’m sure of it,” rejoined Jack heartily. “Are we going to camp farfrom the town?” he asked, by way of changing the subject.

  “Yes, in the outskirts, on the banks of the river. Alameda and his menare giving the Federal troops a hard tussle, and we want to be on thejob if they try to cross.”

  “Then you won’t be in one place?”

  Captain Atkinson laughed.

  “No; we Rangers are supposed to be like the Irish bird that flew in twoplaces at the same time,” he said.

  Then, in a more serious tone, he went on:

  “We have twenty–five miles of the Rio Grande to patrol and see that thelife and property of Americans along the Border are protected. It isalso our duty to keep the revolutionists or Federals from getting intoAmerican territory or receiving supplies.”

  “We had some experience in that line when we were in NorthernChihuahua,” responded Jack.

  “So I have heard. That is one reason I consented to have you along.Raw tenderfoots would be out of place on a job of this kind. But nowwe must be pushing on. I want to get into camp and map out my plan ofcampaign before night.”

  In a few minutes the column was reformed, and the Rangers, at an easypace, were riding out of the town toward the river. The three boys rodetogether.

  “Well, Jack,” remarked Ralph Stetson, as soon as they found themselvesalone, “you’ve made a nice mess of it.”

  “How’s that?” inquired Jack unsuspiciously.

  “Getting in a muss with that Ranger. From the look he gave you as hewent away I could see he bore you no great affection.”

  “Well, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it,” declared Jack.

  “I should think not,” chimed in Walt Phelps, “you only did what youwere compelled to do. My dad says, ‘Don’t go looking for trouble andalways avoid it if you can; but if you have it forced on you, why thenmake the other fellow remember it.’”

  “Don’t worry about that Shorty not remembering it,” admonished Ralphseriously; “he’s not of the forgetting kind.”

  And Ralph was right—Shorty wasn’t, as we shall see before long.