the message from Rosemary?" completed
Dick.
"Rosemary--that's for remembrance," quoted Rolling Stone with a
smile. "I know her not, and yet Hank Fowler is a sheriff to my certain
knowledge."
"Do you mean the one from La Nogalique?" persisted Bud.
"That same. I appealed to him when I was down on my luck, as I nearly
always am, and he befriended me. I have known him for years."
"Then there can't be much wrong with you," decided Bud. "If you want
work, my father can fix you up. We'll need some extra hands if we pull
out a lot to take the trail after the Yaquis. So--"
"Excuse me, young man. But did you say--Yaquis?" asked Rolling
Stone, and there was a new and eager note in his voice.
"Yes," supplemented Nort. "The Yaquis--Indians you know--have gone
wild again and they've raided a town and carried off some of our
friends. We're going to--"
"You can't tell me anything about the Yaquis that I don't know, young
man!" exclaimed Rolling Stone, and he seemed imbued with new life.
"I know they're Indians, of a sort, though a very rotten sort. They killed
my best friend years ago. I haven't heard anything about a raid lately.
Been too lazy to look for news, I reckon. But if it's true that they're on
the rampage, and you're on the trail after them let me, I beg of you,
have a hand in it. I asked for work just now. Change that to a fight and
I'm with you at the fall of the hat and until I drop! Let me come! Let me
help pay back the debt I have against these infernal Yaquis. Will you?"
he asked eagerly.
Bud looked at his cousins. Here was a new element. And with all his
light manner, and ragged clothes, there was something very satisfying
about Rolling Stone, as he asked to be called.
"We'll need all the help we can get," said Bud, slowly. "If Hank Fowler
says you're all right, that goes with us. Sure it isn't Hank Fisher who
vouches for you?" he asked sharply.
"Hank Fisher--I don't know the man," was the answer.
"You're better off not to," spoke Bud grimly, for Fisher was a ranchman
of unsavory reputation, who was believed to have figured in more than
one affair with the half breed Del Pinzo, to the discomfort of Diamond
X.
"Hank Fowler, the sheriff, will tell you I'm straight," said Rolling Stone.
"I don't say I haven't faults," he went on. "But when I say I'm my own
worst enemy I've spilled an earful," and he laughed genially.
"We'll let it go at that," Bud answered. "If Mr. Fowler says you're on
the level that's sufficient. And you can come with us."
"Thanks," was the laconic reply. "Will one of your ponies carry
double?" and he looked over his shoulder at the corral.
"We won't ask you to ride one of those mustangs," laughed Bud. "And
it's too much to double up. I'll go back and get one of dad's ponies. It
isn't far. You stay here," he added to his cousins and Rolling Stone. "I'll
be back soon."
Riding rapidly, Bud was quickly back at Diamond X. He told the story
of the meeting with Rolling Stone. At first Mr. Merkel was a bit
suspicious, but it happened that one of the cowboys had heard of
Rolling Stone, and knew him to be what he laid claim to.
"I reckon he's all right," assented the ranchman. "Take him with you,
Bud. You'll need help, and if he knows anything about the Yaquis he'll
be of value."
"All right," remarked Bud. "He's on. What horse can I take for him?"
One was selected. Together the boy ranchers and Rolling Stone rode
out to Happy Valley, for certain matters must be adjusted there before
the start could be made after the Indians who had carried off Rosemary
and Floyd.
Work went on at top speed, and a day later our young heroes, with
Rolling Stone, better dressed, but the same unconventional spirit,
started forth.
"On the trail!" grimly remarked Bud as they started to join forces with
those from Diamond X.
"On the trail!" echoed Nort and Dick.
"And we can't meet with those Yaquis any too soon for me!" added
Rolling Stone.
"You seem to have it in for them rather hard," observed Dick.
"It can't be any too hard," answered the man with a grim tightening of
the muscles around his mouth. "When I think of all they did--"
He paused and gazed at the distant horizon. That there was a story
connected with his hate of the Yaquis none of the boys doubted, and
they were eager to hear it. But this was not the time and place.
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