“And then he sprang the tunnel theory,” laughed Ned.
“What’s that?” Jerry demanded.
“Oh, I had an idea there might be a secret underground passage somewhere near the gulch, and the rustlers could slip the cattle away through that. But we couldn’t find any tunnel.”
“And so we’re about at the end of our guessing,” resumed Ned. “The only theories left are that the cattle sprout wings and jump over the mountain range, or else they’re carried up in an elevator, leaving no trace.”
“Well, we’ll see what we can find,” said Jerry. “What with that, and keeping an eye on Munson, we’re going to have our hands full.”
“And our eyes, too,” laughed Ned.
“Want to take a spin in the airship?” asked Bob of Jerry.
“Not quite yet,” he replied. “I feel a bit weak still, and I haven’t gotten back all my nerve. But you two go if you like.”
Bob and Ned did take a little flight just before supper, to the delight and astonishment of the cowboys, who never wearied of watching the evolutions of the aircraft, though once it made considerable work for them, as in flying over a herd of cattle the animals stampeded, when some of them saw the shadow of the big wings hovering over them, and the cowboys had all they could do to quiet the steers.