The Indian Horse Mystery. Mary Adrian

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The Indian Horse Mystery - Mary Adrian

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Hap. “Here are tire tracks! Maybe we’ve found some evidence.”

      Jim was just as excited. He jumped down from Maud and tied her to a tree. Hap did the same with White Sock. Then the boys began examining the tire marks in the road. On hands and knees they peered at the tracks in the dust.

      After a while Hap leaned back and said thoughtfully, “These tire marks show that they came from a truck with dual wheels—you know, two tires on each rear wheel. But they’re not from our cattle truck.”

      “How do you know?” asked the Indian boy in surprise.

      “This truck has a tire with a broken block, and ours doesn’t. See, you can tell from the marks. A rock or something sharp must have cut the front tire.”

      Jim looked at the tread marks again and then back at his friend in amazement. “You’re keen to catch that.”

      Hap was pleased. He loved to be praised by his friend. “Let’s hunt for some more evidence,” he suggested.

      The boys searched around, but all they could find was the tire marks continuing down the dirt road. So they untied their horses, hopped on them, and followed the tracks until they came to the main highway.

      “I’ll bet the rustlers went off with our calf in a truck with a cut front tire,” said Hap. “Now what we must do is track down that truck.”

      Jim blinked hard. “That’s not going to be easy, because there’re lots of cattle trucks in this country.”

      “I know there are,” admitted Hap, “but there’s nothing like trying.”

      “You’re right,” agreed Jim. “I’m with you. We’ll hunt for that truck until we find it.”

      CHAPTER TWO

       The Missing Calf

      After the boys had trailed the strange tire tracks to the main highway, they decided to forget them for a while and really get down to work. So they began riding bog in earnest. At every draw that they came to on the range, they stopped their horses and looked for a cow bogged in the mud.

      At last Jim spotted one. “There’s a critter,” he yelled. “She’s stuck in the mud near that water hole.”

      Hap shaded his eyes with his hands and looked in the bright sunlight. “I see her. Let’s go.”

      As the boys drew near the water hole on their horses, the old cow glared at them. She was very unhappy about being trapped in the soft mire and bawled to let the boys know it.

      “I’ll pull her out at the end of my catch rope,” said Hap.

      He twirled his rope three times and then threw it at the head of the cow. The rope missed looping her neck.

      Hap’s face was red with embarrassment. “Guess I’m kinda out of practice.” He tried a second and third time, but met with the same results. “You’d better rope her, Jim.”

      The Indian boy had been practicing rope throwing a lot. In fact, he had roped some chickens around his house. They all resented it, especially a fat hen who had squawked as if she were being killed. A rooster had put up even a bigger fight, making so much noise that Jim’s grandfather came out and scolded him. So Jim had practiced roping fence posts and stumps until he felt he was doing quite well.

      Now he was anxious to try out his skill. He threw the rope. A perfect loop landed around the cow’s neck. As the noose tightened, she bellowed long and loud.

      Hap clapped his hands over his ears. “Man, that old critter sure can bawl.”

      Jim nodded. “She’s got lungs, all right. Do your stuff, Maud,” he said to his horse in an encouraging voice. “I’m counting on you to haul that critter out of the mud.”

      Old Maud was still a good rope horse and knew what was expected of her. She pulled hard on the rope. The cow kept bawling, but Maud continued tugging on the rope. Little by little she pulled the animal out on solid ground. However, the cow was by no means standing upright. She was flat on her back.

      “We’d better tail her up,” suggested Hap.

      The boys tied their horses to some trees. Jim shook the loop off the cow’s neck. Then he and Hap pulled on her tail to steady her. Slowly the old cow managed to get to her feet. But she was annoyed with the boys for pulling on her tail, and to let them know her feelings she started out for them.

      “Run!” yelled Hap.

      Like two arrows the boys high-tailed it for their horses and were off before the cow, with head lowered, could charge at them. When they looked back over their shoulders, they saw her going into the mud again.

      “I’ll be doggone!” cried Hap. “That old critter can die for all I care.”

      Jim blinked hard. He felt the same way, but he wondered what Mr. Tom would say if they left the cow there. “Maybe we ought to go and pull her out again,” he said.

      Hap was indignant. “Are you crazy? That old critter is mean, just plain mean.”

      “We’re not good cowboys if we leave her there,” argued Jim. “She’ll starve to death, and if Mr. Tom finds out, he’ll think we don’t know how to throw a rope.”

      “I guess you’re right,” answered Hap after a long pause. “We can’t let Tom down. I’ll lasso that old critter if it’s the last thing I do.”

      There was such determination in Hap’s voice that it was no surprise to Jim when he looped the rope around the cow’s neck the first time.

      “Wow! You did it,” shouted Jim.

      Hap grinned, and together the boys got the cow to stand up on solid ground. As she stood there, bawling, Jim and Hap were not taking any chances. They got on their horses and rode away in a hurry. They looked back, though, and then heaved sighs of relief. The old cow was slowly walking away from the mud near the water hole.

      The boys rode on, anxious to rescue another old, bogged-down cow. They found one, but they had the same trouble getting her to stay safely on dry ground.

      After they succeeded, Hap expressed his thoughts about riding bog. “Now that’s the second time we’ve saved an old critter from starving to death. Boy, you’d think she’d appreciate it. Instead she gives us a bad time.” He shrugged. “I guess some cows are just that way. Anyway, we did a big job this morning. So let’s head back for lunch.”

      “Okay by me,” answered Jim.

      The boys had ridden only a short distance when they came across a bunch of cattle. They were brown with white faces; they had drifted to a clump of trees to get away from the wind.

      Hap counted twelve of them, all steers. “I’m sure they’re ours, but you never can tell. Some strays might have wandered over here from another open ranch. Let’s take

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