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Updated: May 26, 2025
"I shouldn't wonder. There was a bootlegger through here yesterday." "The man who tried to get over our roof!" exclaimed Frances. "Mebbe." "Do you suppose he's known to Ratty?" questioned the girl, anxiously. "Dunno. But Ratty's about worn out his welcome on the Bar-T. If the Cap says the word, I'll can him." "Well," said Frances, "he shouldn't have driven that herd so hard.
It was home, and every tender tie of her life bound her to it and to the old man who she knew was sitting somewhere on the veranda, with his pipe and his memories. There never was such another beautiful place as the old Bar-T! Frances was sure of that. She longed for Amarillo and what the old Captain called "the frills of society"; but could she give up the ranch for them?
The wheels had cut deep ruts and left holes in places into which the wheels of the Bar-T wagon slumped, rocking and wrenching the vehicle like a light boat caught in a cross-sea. The wagon being nearly empty, however, Mack drove his mules at a reckless pace.
Doubtless the two plotters had proposed to themselves that Captain Rugley would be too ill to take the lead in any chase after the kidnappers. Perhaps Pete even hoped that the old ranchman would agree immediately to the terms of ransom set forth in the note Ratty had taken to the Bar-T.
But the rope broke, and before the searing-iron could touch the black steer's rump he went through the fence like a battering-ram. "Look out for that ornery critter, Miss Frances!" yelled the foreman of the Bar-T Ranch. Frances saw him coming, headed for the group of visitors. She touched Molly with the spur, and the intelligent cow-pony jumped aside into the clear-way.
She could not tell her father about him; and she shrank from revealing the puncher's villainy to Silent Sam Harding. Indeed, she was afraid of what Sam and the other boys on the ranch might do to punish Ratty M'Gill. The Bar-T punchers might be rather rough with a fellow like Ratty. Frances believed the boys on the Bar-T were loyal to her father and herself.
Lonergan would have arrived at the Bar-T and the responsibility for the safety of the treasure would be lifted from their shoulders. At any rate, the mysterious treasure would be divided and disposed of. When Pete knew that the Spanish treasure chest was opened and the valuables divided, he might lose hope of gaining possession of the wealth he coveted.
The girl from Boston did not come over to see Pratt that very next day; but soon she, as well as the remainder of the young people who had been the guests of Mr. Bill Edwards and his hospitable wife, were stopping at the Bar-T daily and inquiring for Pratt; and as soon as he could be helped downstairs and out upon the veranda, he held a general reception all day long.
I'll catch your pony, and we'll make the Bar-T before supper time." The grey was a well-trained cow-pony, for the Edwards' ranch was one of the latest in that section of the Panhandle to change from cattle to wheat raising. A part of its range had not as yet been plowed, and Bill Edwards still had a corral full of good riding stock.
The others, including Pratt, were mounted on Bill Edwards' ponies. While they were standing in a group and talking, there came a yell from the branding pen. A section of rail fence went down with a crash. Through the fence came a little black steer that had escaped several "branding soirées." Blackwater, as the Bar-T boys called him, was a notorious rebel.
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