“I guess we’re all here—what there is of us,” remarked Bony, cracking his finger joints.
Just then the whistle of an approaching train was heard.
“Gotchertickets?” asked Budge Rankin, taking in a fresh wad of gum.
“Hu! Do you think I left them until now?” inquired Jack. “I’ve got all the tickets. That’s our train, fellows. Now we’ll say good-by to Denton for a while, and live in the wild and woolly West. Here, Budge, you take that satchel, and I’ll tote the dress-suit case. Try and get seats together, boys.”
A little later they were on the train and being whirled rapidly away from Denton. They had a long journey before them, and as the first part of it contained no features of interest the lads spent all their time discussing what was before them.
“I want to get a big buck mule deer,” remarked Jack as they were talking about what kind of game they would be likely to find.
“Me for a big-horn sheep,” said Nat. “I want to get the head mounted and put it in my room. Then I’ll put my rifle across the horns, and show it to every one who comes in.”
“I s’pose you’ll tell ’em you shot it, won’t you?” asked Bony.
“Of course. I will shoot it.”