“Well, we are all right, then. Can’t knock us out now. All I need is a good chance to rest.”
“Oh, you need rest!” nodded Rattleton. “You always need that. You can take more rest and not complain than any fellow I ever saw.”
“Young man,” said Bruce, loftily, “it won’t work. I refuse to let you get me on a string, so drop it.”
“You’ll be lucky if you get out of this part of the country without getting on a string with the other end hitched to the limb of a tree.”
“That reminds me,” drawled Bruce; “at the last town where we stopped I asked a citizen if there were any horse thieves in that locality, and he said there were two of ’em hanging around there the night before.”
“Yes,” nodded Harry, “that was the place where they said they were going to stop lynching if they had to hang every durned lyncher they could catch.”
“Boys,” laughed Merriwell, “we are all right. When you chaps get to springing those things I feel there is no further danger. We’ll pull out all right.”
“Suttinly, sar,” grinned Toots. “I’s gwan teh bet mah money on dis crowd ebry time, chilluns. We’s hot stuff, an’ dar ain’t nuffin’ gwan teh stop us dis side ob San Francisco—no, sar!”
Finally, refreshed and filled with new hope, the boys mounted their wheels and started to seek for the second water-hole.
Frank led the way, and they turned to the south, riding along the base of some barren cliffs.