CHAPTER XXII

Double-crossed

frank shot a startled glance at Joe. The Hardys knew the seriousness of the situation and Cap sensed it too.

"You boys go ahead," he told them. "Chet and I will take it easy and get there when we can."

"But the horses," Chet spoke up. "You can't go far in this country without horses."

"I have it," Joe cried. "Our pack mule! He was well hidden. If the thieves didn't take him, Frank and I will ride it to Red Butte and send horses back to you."

"Our nearest point to contact the law," Cap suggested, "is Sheriff Paul."

"We never did find out what happened at his home," Frank reminded his brother. "Suppose we see if he has returned. On their way back to Red Butte, Cap and Chet can stop at the Sanderson ranch to see if everything is all right there."

Leaving Cap and Chet hobbling slowly along, the

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Hardys made for the camp site to look for the pack animal. It was grazing peacefully in a little natural corral. The boys threw a blanket across the mule's back and mounted.

For a moment the amazed beast stood still. Then, at a signal from Frank's heel, it plodded up the slope. Reaching the trail, the animal ignored a signal to turn right and doggedly trudged toward Wildcat Swamp. No amount of coaxing could change its mind.

"Now what are we going to do?" Joe asked impatiently.

"It's just possible," Frank reflected, "that our mule has been used by someone else and is taking the route he's become accustomed to. The beast may lead us to a new clue."

The boys rode along without attempting to guide the animal. It headed straight for the defile, went through it, and stopped just above the spot where Cap and the boys had been digging.

"Well, what do you make of this?" Joe asked, perplexed.

Frank jumped off and started down the slope, waving to Joe to follow.

"Somebody else has been digging here-they even put up a sign!" he cried.

Joe scrambled closer to the sign.

"DANGER," he read aloud. "EXPLOSIVES BURIED. KEEP OUT."

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"I wonder if that's a trick to scare us away from here," Frank pondered.

"We'd better not stop to find out," Joe replied. "But I think we should warn Chet and Cap in case it's true."

This time the mule willingly carried the boys in the opposite direction. Reaching camp, he turned in.

"Somebody sure has been using this mule recently," Frank said. "I wonder if it was to carry dynamite."

"Sure looks like it if the sign means anything," Joe answered.

At that moment Cap and Chet wearily arrived at the camp.

"What's up now? I see you found the mule, but why did you come back?" Chet asked.

Quickly the Hardys explained and urged their friends to stay away from the pit.

When Cap agreed, Frank and Joe started off again. Reaching the trail, their mule once more turned left.

"Oh, no, not again," Joe cried, trying his best to guide the animal to the right.

"Now what?" Frank pondered. "It's a long walk to Sheriff Paul's."

Joe broke a leafy twig from a sapling and remounted. "Frank, you walk ahead the way we want to go. I'll see wh^t I c^n do from Here."

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His brother took the lead rope and started. The mule walked four steps, then stopped. Joe tickled its ear with the twig. As the mule's attention was distracted, Frank coaxed it a few feet farther.

This maneuver continued until the beast seemed to lose interest in going back. There was no more trouble and Frank climbed up behind his brother.

Meanwhile, Cap and Chet were at a loss about how to shake the dust of the camp from their tired feet. Without horses they certainly would not be able to go far.

Sitting before their tent, Cap's far-roving eye spotted a movement on the hillside. A herd of wild horses was moving across the hill, stretched out in a long, broken line of twos and threes. Peculiarly, almost all of them stopped abruptly at one point on the slope. Then each small group moved on, to be replaced by another.

"What are they looking at?" Chet murmured, ambling to the teacher's side.

"I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to work up a hunch!" Cap said. "Come on down here with me."

As they jolted down the incline, Cap let out a cry. "I was right! Our horses!"

There were the two mounts that Chet and Cap had hired, tethered in a grove of pine trees and grazing calmly.

"So this is where those phony rangers hid them," Chet exclaimed.

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"Now we can do a little traveling of our own!" Cap cheered. "Let's get started for the Sanderson ranch."

Stiffly they swung into the saddles, and a minute later were loping along the trail in the direction of the ranch.

While all this was happening, Frank and Joe were still swaying from side to side on the back of the mule. Heading in another direction, they set no such pace as Cap and Chet. Without a horse to follow, the mule ambled along at a pace of his own choosing.

After three hours of stumbling over sand-covered rocks and sliding along bare shale, the mule brought the boys in sight of the sheriff's ranch.

"I hope somebody's here," Joe said, "to give me a tall glass of water."

Dismounting, the boys discreetly tied the mule behind the barn and went to the door of the ranch house.

"Hello!" they called. No answer.

"Looks exactly as it was before," Frank said, pushing the door open.

Seeing their note still lying on the table, the boys went through to the kitchen. The unwashed dishes still rested in the sink and the basket of clothes remained untouched.

"It's a sure thing that Mrs. Paul hasn't been back here," Joe said. "Shall we try it to Red Butte once more?"

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"Yes, but through open country. I don't want to be stopped again."

As the two boys crossed the living room, Joe noticed something strange. "Say, the radiotelephone's gone," he said.

"That means somebody has been here since we left," Frank reasoned.

Before the Hardys could ponder the riddle further, a distant clatter of hoofs caused them to glance out the window. Three riders in green uniforms were galloping up to the house.

"The fake rangers!" Frank warned. "We'd better get out of here."

The brothers hurried through the kitchen, closing the back door quietly behind them, then crossed the yard rapidly and hid inside the stone-and-rail corral attached to the barn.

No sooner had they concealed themselves than the men, who were masked, galloped up and dismounted. After glancing about they apparently decided that they were alone and removed their masks.

Through a crack in the corral fence, the boys could see that one of the men was short, scrawny, beady-eyed Willie the Penman! The flat-nosed, fierce-looking man with the craggy brows must be Nick Snide, they surmised.

Willie gave a laugh of satisfaction. "This is a snap with the sheriff out of the way, Snide," he said. "He sure bit on that 'missing rangers' gag."

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"Willie," Snide said, "I have to hand it to you The sheriff walked right into that one. Nobody'd ever think to look for him in the tower."

Nudging his brother, Joe whispered, "Wonder where this tower is they're talking about?"

Willie's whining voice continued. "We can't stick around here long. I'll get those seals I'll need to make the papers look legal. Somebody might-in fact, somebody is coming. It's that Sanderson kid. Quick! Take off those uniforms. Pretend you're waiting for the sheriff. I'll hide in the barn."

Frank and Joe watched Willie's companions strip off the rangers' uniforms, revealing cowboy outfits underneath. Willie carried the discarded clothes through the open barn door.

Harry rode up to the men, who greeted him in a friendly manner.

"I'm looking for the sheriff," the boy said. "I need his help."

"We're waiting for Paul ourselves," Snide answered. "What's your trouble?"

Frank and Joe clenched their fists, hoping the boy would say no more. But Harry continued earnestly:

"Well, a couple of days ago, a man and three boys promised me they'd help Mom find a way to keep her land. Then they went into Devil's Swamp and disappeared. I want Sheriff Paul to help me find them."

"No use," Snide said. "Two of 'em named Frank and Joe told me they were going back to their home

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in a place called Bayport. You might as well go home yourself. Just wasting your time here."

Harry looked surprised when he heard the Hardys mentioned, but still seemed undecided. "I've got to see the sheriff," he insisted.

"I'll give him your message, kid."

"Well, okay." The boy wheeled his horse and rode slowly past the corral on his way out.

"Now's my chance," Joe whispered to Frank.

Crouching low and running as quietly as possible, he came to the far corner just as Harry did and peered through the bars.

"Pretend you don't see me, Harry," he said in a loud whisper. The boy stiffened. "I'm Joe Hardy. Get off your horse and act as if you're tightening the cinch."

Without looking toward Joe's hiding place, the boy dismounted and began adjusting his saddle.

"You've got to get to Red Butte for help," Joe continued. "These men are in with the gang that's after your land! They're holding Sheriff Paul in a tower. Hurry!"

Harry played his part well. He nodded slightly, mounted his horse, and trotted away. Leaving the ranch, he spurred the animal into a gallop. Harry realized that no time was to be lost. The boy rode at breakneck speed for a mile, then slowed down slightly to rest his horse.

About to resume his fast pace, Harry saw two riders approaching. They guided their horses on

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either side of him and one man grabbed his reins.

"Whoa there, kid," the larger of the two husky riders said. "Where are you going in such a rush?"

"To town," Harry blurted out. "There's a gang of crooks trying to steal Mom's land and they're holding Sheriff Paul a prisoner!"

"How'd you find all this out?" the other man asked.

"Joe Hardy told me. He and his brother Frank are hiding at the ranch right now. You've got to help us!"

"Oh, we'll give you a hand, all right." He turned to his big companion. "Give him both hands!"

The man seized Harry's wrists and tied them behind his back. He lashed the boy around the waist to the high Western pommel of his saddle and hobbled his horse with a length of rope. The animal would be able to move only a few inches with each step.

Harry's eyes were wide with fright. "What's tile idea? You must be-"

"That's right, kid," the big man said. "You talk too much to the wrong people."

Leaving Harry helpless, the men then whipped their horses and galloped on toward the Paul ranch.

Back in the corral, Frank and Joe were still crouching behind the fence. Willie the Penman had gone into the ranch house, but the others remained outside.

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There was the clatter of hoofbeats, and on both sides of the corral wall behind which the Hardys were hiding there was a dash for cover. The boys simply crouched lower; the fake rangers ran behind the house.

"Two men!" Joe whispered, peering between the bars at a pair of riders cantering toward the house. "They can't be reinforcements sent by Harry. It's too soon for that."

When Willie and his henchmen recognized the newcomers, they stepped out to meet them. The men spoke in low tones that did not carry to the corral fence.

"This doesn't look good!" Joe warned. "Look! They're fanning out all over the place as if to cut off our escape."

"Snide is coming this way!" Frank exclaimed, crouching lower.

Stalking cautiously around the corner of the fence where Joe had talked to Harry, Snide turned along its near side. As he reached the end, the brothers quietly retreated toward the barn. A few yards more and they could make a run for it.

Suddenly there was a shout from behind them.

"There they are!"

Whirling, the boys found two big cowboys between them and the barn.

Snide ran toward them from the other side.

Frank and Joe were trapped!