“The cattle rustlers have captured the professor!” cried the foreman.
[CHAPTER XXIII]
LETTERS FROM HOME
The boys started at these words. The professor in the hands of the cattle thieves!
“But—but!” stammered the surprised Ned. “If they took him, why didn’t they take us? We weren’t far away from where they made the professor a prisoner, to judge by his voice. It sounded very plainly.”
“Sound carries a good distance in this clear air,” said the foreman. “He might have been half a mile away.”
“Besides, they didn’t know you were there,” put in Gimp. “You say the professor went out of the tent?”
“Yes, to look for some moths. He’s been collecting them of late. And they grabbed him while we slept,” explained Ned.
“Well, that accounts for it,” went on the cowboy. “The rustlers were abroad that night on top of the mountain, maybe getting ready to make another raid on us. They came upon the professor, who probably didn’t notice ’em, and they nabbed him before he knew what was going on. It’s as plain as a long-eared rabbit. But we’ll get after the rascals!”