“So I decimated,” observed Hinkee, who seemed to have a queer fondness for using the wrong word, whether from ignorance or a sense of humor the boys could not decide.
“And so you come all the way out here to catch the cattle rustlers?” asked the cowboy called Gimp.
“To have a try at the mystery,” corrected Jerry.
“Well, it sure is a mystery all right, but I don’t reckon you can solve it.”
“There’s no harm in them tryin’,” added the Parson, who seemed to be more friendly than the others.
“No, I reckon not,” agreed Hinkee Dee. “Well, what’s to be done? If these tenderfeet are lost I s’pose it’s our duty to set ’em on the right trail. Tell you what,” he went on. “Gimp, you stay with ’em and see that they get to Square Z in the mornin’. The Parson and I can manage the steers. You ride back with the boys and show ’em how to keep on the trail.”
“All right,” agreed Gimp. As he spoke the flaps of the tent erected at the rear of the automobile parted, and the face of Professor Snodgrass peered out.
“Are we there?” asked the little man. “If we are I want to get up early, Jerry, and see if I can capture that specimen of a moth that only flies in the morning hours. I wish——”
The professor suddenly stopped talking and fairly sprang from the tent. Then it was observed that he was clad only in his pajamas and slippers. He made a dive toward Gimp, who quickly aimed his gun at the advancing figure, and then, though evidently fearing an attack, but seeing the professor was unarmed, the weapon was lowered, and Gimp murmured an apology.
“Oh, what a beautiful specimen!” exclaimed the scientist, gazing at something on the saddle in front of Gimp. “It is the largest I have ever seen. Where did you get it?”