“No question about it; and three to one that fellow is no other that the rustler who’s been such a nuisance around here for several years,” Frank replied.
Bob whistled, as was his usual fashion when surprised.
“But think of his nerve, would you, Frank?”
“Oh! they say he’s got more than his share of that, all right,” chuckled his chum, as they headed toward the horse corral, to leave their mounts in the care of the man who had charge there.
“Some of these punchers must have known him; he used to be on a ranch once, I’m told,” Bob went on.
“That’s so,” said Frank, slowly, “but it was years ago that he broke loose, and took to an easier way of getting a herd than raising cattle. Besides, you must remember we agreed he would shave his face clean, to start with. That must make a big change in any Mexican. And he can keep his hat well down over his eyes. Last of all, he relies on the fact that nobody dreams he would take such risks as to come here right now.”
After leaving their horses, the boys headed straight for the ranch house, where they asked for Colonel Haywood.
It chanced that he was in his business office, in consultation with the overseer, which fact pleased Frank; since Bart Heminway would have to be put in touch with the truth concerning the presence of the notorious rustler at the Circle Ranch round-up.
The stockman looked up as the lads entered, and smiled.
“Back from your little gallop, eh?” he remarked; for he had seen them starting forth, and wondered at the powers of endurance shown by both boys and horses; for they had been pretty busy all that stirring day.