“How do you know?”
“I saw ’em. Dad sent me out ’bout sundown to hunt a stray calf and I saw some smoke coming from a draw where nobody had any business being. I hitched my nag and crawled up until I could see.”
“And what did you see?”
“A bunch of armed Mexicans! They had camped for supper. I figgered that they were coming on up here to-night, so I beat it straight for you. Bet Dad’s got a search party out huntin’ me right now!”
“Gee whiz, but we’ll have to get busy in a hurry,” snapped Bob. “Come on, we’ll wake Mr. Taylor.”
He had turned towards the door as he was speaking and the words died in his throat as the door flew open and a dusty form stepped into the lighted room.
It was Jerry King!
“You?” gasped Bob. “You? What are you doing here? To tell us that the dirty work you started is successful?”
The boy stood straight under the taunts his former friend heaped upon him. A little smile was at the corner of his mouth as he answered.
“You haven’t much faith in me, have you? You are quite ready to believe that I have been a traitor to the Service.”