“Don’t wonder about a blooming thing, Darrel. Wait till you feel better.”
“I can’t get it out of my mind,” persisted Darrel. “Where did it break? Did you see?”
“It broke in the place where you had it looped around the paloverde,” said Ballard.
“Strike me lucky!” muttered Darrel, a puzzled look battling with the pain in his face. “Why, it couldn’t have broken there! That rope was Clan’s reata, and was as sound as any rope you ever saw.”
“That’s what happened, anyhow,” said Frank.
“I’m blamed if I can understand it!”
Frank and the other two were also at a loss to understand it. There was certainly something queer about the breaking of that rope.
A little later, the hum of a motor car was heard along the trail.
“Mr. Bradlaugh has come over the road for a record,” remarked Clancy, starting for the door. “But I knew he’d hit ’er up.”
When the boys reached the front of the house, the big car was just slowing to a halt.