[“THEY’RE NOTHIN’ BUT BOYS AND TENDERFEET AT THAT!”]
Ned, Bob and Jerry let their revolvers fall into the soft grass at their feet.
“That’s better,” said the other man, who seemed to have lighted a small torch. It was a patent pipe lighter, as they learned afterward.
“They’re sure enough young chaps,” was this man’s observation.
“That’s right, Gimp,” agreed the other, whom the boys guessed to be the one who had been called “Parson.” “It’s all right, Hinkee!” he called to the unseen third. “We’ve got ’em, such as they are. Ride up if you can leave the cattle.”
“All right,” answered a voice from out of the distant gloom. “Are you and Fatty there?”
“Yes,” was echoed.
“Well, look after the bunch. Don’t drive ’em any more until I say so.”