Showdown at Widow Creek by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page B

to other parts of the cattle drive. The Muellers jumped at the chance to leave the dusty drag position. I opted to stay behind and wait for Joe’s return.
    We drove the herd for a couple more hours before Wally called a halt for the day. The sun was low in the sky, and Joe had yet to return. Luckily, there was plenty of work to keep my mind occupied. We unsaddled our horses and tied them to the picket built by Ned and Dusty—two tall cedar stakes driven into the ground, with a rope running between them. After that, Sarah showed us how to wipe the sweat from our horses, check their hooves for loose horseshoes, and brush them down.
    Then it was time to gather firewood. At least that was something I knew how to do. Joe and I had gone camping plenty of times.
    I was just inside the edge of thick forest, looking for deadwood, when I heard galloping hooves. I stepped out to see Joe ride into the camp. I grabbed a couple more sticks before heading to meet him. He’d dismounted and was walking Norman around the camp.
    “You taking your horse for a walk?” I fell into step behind him, and Norman followed us. His chest and sides were lathered with sweat.
    “Sarah says Norman has to cool down before I tie him up with the others,” he replied. “We had to run just to catch up with you before sundown.”
    “What did you find out?” I asked.
    “Someone vandalized the dam,” Joe replied. He explained how he had spotted the signs that a backhoe had cut a big hole in the side of the earthen dam.
    “You told Wally and Sarah?” I asked.
    “Yeah, and they weren’t happy,” replied Joe.
    I tightened my lips. “More sabotage.”
    “You got it,” agreed Joe.
    “That seems like a lot of trouble for a couple of disgruntled employees,” I said. “Were they trying to ruin the cattle drive?”
    “Ruin it?” Joe asked. “With a big water crossing? That was actually kind of cool.”
    I raised my hand. “Hello? I wasn’t planning on going for a swim today, you know.”
    Joe nodded. “So their big plan was to get Frank Hardy wet!”
    I ignored my brother. “Well, they had to have known the herd could still cross the creek, even if it was swollen.”
    “Or that there was an alternate route available,” Joe added. “Lucky had suggested that we take the herd onto another road to bypass the creek altogether.”
    I stopped walking. “Remember that he also mentioned that he had ridden by the lake on the way down. He said it was perfectly fine then. What if he sabotaged the dam?”
    Joe stopped beside me and shook his head. “No way, bro. The damage was done with some heavy machinery, which was nowhere to be found. I don’t think he could fit a backhoe into his saddlebags.”
    “But he could’ve had help,” I suggested. “And the detour was his idea. What if his real plan was to get the herd somewhere else?”
    “What? Like a trap?” Joe began to lead Norman again. “What good would that do? Try to steal Hondo again?”
    “I don’t know,” I admitted.
    I helped Joe unsaddle his horse and brush him down. By the time we joined everyone else, the campfire was roaring and dinner was being served. Wally grilled steaks and served them with a side of beans. There was also bread that had been baked in the ranch’s brick oven. Everything was delicious.
    During dinner, Joe and I kept our half-formed theories and suspect list to ourselves. There was no sense in pointing fingers at the moment, and we still had another half day’s ride to the ranch.
    Honestly, our suspect list wasn’t very long. I didn’t think Wally and Sarah would do anything to spoil the cattle drive. The three paying guests, the Muellers and Mr. Jackson, all had less riding experience than Joe and me. I doubted they even knew what a cinch strap was before yesterday.
    That left the three ranch hands. Dusty and Ned had seemed all right. They worked hard and were great at teaching everyone what to do. But they weren’t the ones who had ridden to the dam on the