The Saddle Boys of the Rockies | Page 4

"He sure would, now," Frank said. "And when you look at it, he just the
same as gave us the challenge direct, because he hinted that we didn't
have the nerve to attempt such a big thing as this. Bob, we'll call it a go!
Wonder what Peg will say when he runs across us out there in that
lonely place? Wow! I reckon he'll be some mad."
"Let him," remarked Bob, carelessly. "He has no claim on Thunder
Mountain; has he? And we want to call his bluff, if it was one. So just
make up your mind we're in for a new experience. It may pan out a
heap of fun for us. And it will be worth while if we can settle the
question that has been giving these superstitious cowmen the creeps all
these years."
"Then let's get through with our business, send word by Billy, though
not telling what we've got in the wind, and then pick up a few things we
might need on a trip like this. After that we can drop out of town, and
take our time heading for the mountain; because I think I'd like Peg to
get there first, so that he couldn't say we'd stolen his thunder."
Half an hour later the saddle boys, having finished their business, and
sent the Circle ranch cowboy galloping homeward bearing the message
to Mr. Haywood, were moving slowly through the main street of the
town, heading toward a store where they could pick up a couple of
blankets, a simple cooking outfit, and some of the substantials in the
way of bacon, coffee and the like, when they came upon a scene that
instantly attracted their attention.
It was a terrified cry that reached their ears at first, and caused both

boys to pull in their horses. Glancing in the direction whence the sound
of distress seemed to spring, they saw a small Mexican girl struggling
with an over-grown fellow, garbed in the customary range habit, even
to the "chaps" of leather covering his trousers.
Both Frank and Bob jumped from their saddles, for the little affair was
taking place in the courtyard of an inn that fronted on the street.
Whether the brute was simply playing the bully, and trying to kiss the
girl; or meant to strike her for getting in his way, Bob Archer did not
stop to inquire.
His warm Kentucky blood on fire, he made a swoop for the fellow, and
managed to give him a tremendous blow that toppled him over in a
heap.
"Lie there, you coward!" he exclaimed.
And then, as the fellow whom he had knocked down struggled to his
knees, to stare up at him, Bob discovered, not a little to his surprise,
and satisfaction as well, that he was looking into a familiar face.
It was Peg Grant!
CHAPTER II
THE STRANGE ACTIONS OF DOMINO
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Frank; which remark showed how much
surprised he was to recognize the youth whom his chum had sent to the
ground.
"What do you mean by hitting me like that?" snarled the rich man's son,
as he managed to scramble to his feet again, though he seemed a bit
"groggy," and one of his eyes was already turning dark, as if it had
come in violent contact with a stone when he struck the ground.
"What do you mean, hurting that poor little Mexican girl?" demanded
Bob, who stood on his guard, as though he might not be averse to

trying conclusions with the bully, if so be the other felt like seeking
satisfaction for his upset.
"She sassed me when I ordered her to get out of my way, that's what
she did;" declared Peg, wrathfully, "and I'd look nice now, wouldn't I,
letting a little greaser kid talk back to me? So I was just giving her a
good shaking when you broke in. Guess you didn't know who you were
hitting when you did that, Bob Archer!"
"Perhaps I didn't," replied the Kentucky lad, calmly; "though that
wouldn't have made any particular difference. Any cur who would lay
his hands on a child like that ought to get knocked down every time. I'd
do it again if you gave me the chance!"
Peg stared at him. Perhaps he had never been treated in this manner
before. All his life his acquaintances had truckled to him on account of
the great wealth of his father, and the liberal way he himself, as a boy,
rewarded those who were allowed the privilege of being his cronies or
mates.
"You--would, eh?" he gasped, as if hardly daring to believe his ears.
"Even if you knew it was Peg Grant you'd treat me that way; would you?
I'll remember that! I'm not the one