Jerry, who was steering, threw in the gear clutches and the machine moved off on its long and what was destined to be eventful trip.
“Hold on!” cried Nestor, suddenly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry, stopping the car.
“Have you boys got guns?”
“Guns?” repeated Jerry, somewhat in bewilderment.
“Well, revolvers, then,” went on the miner.
In answer, Ned rather sheepishly took from his valise three new double-action revolvers of excellent make.
“I thought we might need ’em,” he said, “but I was afraid you’d laugh at me and say it was foolish.”
“It’s all right!” exclaimed Nestor. “I was going to tell you to git some. You see, you don’t always need a gun in Arizona, but when you do, as the man in the story said about Texas, you need it mighty bad an’ mighty sudden. So it’s a prime thing you have ’em. I’ve got mine,” and he showed two big .45 calibre ones.