"It's as pretty a mixup as ever I heard tell of," Frank had said several times that afternoon, while they were exchanging confidences in connection with the remarkable possibilities around them. "What with the rustlers, Peg and his crowd of thunder investigators, the little Mex. boy and his unknown prospector bunch; and last but not least, Bob, ourselves, it sure has me going some."
"Yes," the other had returned, "but I hope we'll keep clear of the whole lot, and be able to find out something worth while. I wish the next night was over, and we were galloping along over the plains headed for good old Circle Ranch."
"Me too, Bob, always provided we carried with us an explanation for those deep grumblings that shake the earth, and seem to come out of the heart of Thunder Mountain. I'm a stubborn fellow, as I reckon you know; and when I throw my hat into the ring I like to stick it through till they carry me out."
"The same here," Bob had declared, after which the chums had to shake hands on it again, thus sealing the compact to stick.
And so the day went, and night came on apace.
The air did not seem to cool off to any extent as darkness approached. Frank took pains to call the attention of his comrade to this fact.
"You can guess what that means, Bob," he remarked. "It's sure going to bring on a whopper before a great while. All the signs point that way right now. So we can expect to get ready for a ducking."
"Oh! that doesn't bother me," declared Bob. "I've been through many a one. All I hope is that we don't happen to be in the old canyon when that cloudburst you mentioned comes along. I'm not hankering after a ride on a forty foot wave, and down that crooked old canyon, too. Excuse me, if you please!"
"Of course if we only stick it out here, there's going to be no danger," Frank remarked, indifferently.
"I see that you're just itching to be on the move, old fellow," ventured Bob, who knew the restless nature of his chum.