Something, then, must evidently have happened to bring Andy home. He undoubtedly brought serious news that had inflamed the mind of the usually cool rancher, and would account for his excited manner.
Frank looked further. He was accustomed to
seeing things that might escape many another, less observing. To his mind Andy was breathing very hard, and he looked as though he might have passed through a recent disturbance of some sort.
Immediately the boy remembered the conversation he had had with his father concerning a possible descent of the rustlers on one of their choice herds. Had such a catastrophe really happened? Would that account for the disturbed appearance of the cowboy who had been left out on the range to watch the cattle?
“What is it, Colonel?” demanded one of the assembled punchers.
“We’re all here, and we want to know!” called another eagerly.
“That’s Andy, boys, a-settin’ thar; an’ he looks mighty bad used up!” shouted a third; at which deep murmurs arose, as a suspicion of the truth began to break in upon the minds of the wild riders of the range.
“They’ve come down on us at last, boys,” said Colonel Haywood, trying to master his emotion, though Frank could detect an unaccustomed tremor in his voice, and saw that his face was white with suppressed passion.
“The rustlers!”
Those two words seemed to start at one end of the semi-circle, and pass along from mouth to mouth. There was a bitterness in the way they