“Don’t get excited,” sneered Blunt, leveling his cold black eyes at the youth. “If Chip Merriwell has taken you under his wing, I won’t lay a hand on you. How about it, Chip?” he demanded, shifting his gaze to Frank.
“I’ve helped Lenning get a job at the Ophir mine,” Merry answered.
“That settles it,” grunted Blunt, tossing the reins of Borak to Frank.
Scowling blackly, the cowboy pulled down the brim of his hat and set spurs to his horse. He had not a word to say. Frank looked after him grimly, then laughed a little, and vaulted into his own saddle.
With the going of Blunt, Lenning revived considerably. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped back to the trail. Clancy and Ballard watched him with a gaze far from friendly.
“Good-by, Lenning,” Frank called from the saddle. “Do your best, over there, and everything will come out all right.”
“Thank you, Merriwell,” Lenning answered. “If I do come out all right you can bet I’ll know who to thank for it.”
He threw a defiant glance at Clancy and Ballard, a look of gratitude at Merriwell, then turned on his heel and started south. Slowly Frank put Borak in motion the other way.
Clancy and Ballard rode on either side of Merriwell, and both preserved a glum silence. They were displeased, but Merry had done what he thought was right, and the attitude of his chums did not worry him.
“Have you hooked up with that crook, Chip?” asked Ballard, as they rode into town and headed for the corral.