"He'll be all right in a day or so," the doctor said, on leaving. "All he needs is rest and quietness. That blow must have been a glancing one."
"Oh, by the way, Billy," said Mr. Thornton, at supper a little later; "what was it you started to tell me when that cyclone crash came?"
"Great news, Uncle Richfield," replied the ranch lad. "Some of Shackmiller's crowd are on guard at Golden Peak, and they ordered us off when we went there to-day."
"They did!" cried the ranch owner. "I've got to look into that. It may mean a big change in the situation. I've got to get busy. I must beat these fellows at their game, or it will spoil everything."
The ranchman sat up late that night, going over various documents in his room. The boys, after talking over the events of the day, had gone to bed, rather tired. The effects of the big storm had fully passed away.
"Well, what shall we do to-day?" asked Frank of Billy, as they got up the next morning.
"Have another try for Golden Peak, I vote," came from Andy. "Maybe we can get the best of those fellows."
"Not so soon after we've been there once," was the opinion of the Western youth. "Give 'em time to forget about us, and we'll have a better chance. But we can go hunting to-day if you like. One of the men said he saw a lot of jack rabbits over on the far range the other day. And maybe we might meet a stray wolf or so. It's always good work to pot them, as they pull down a calf occasionally."
"Fine!" cried Frank. "We'll do it!"
"Hello, there's your uncle," said Andy, looking out of the window, and seeing Mr. Thornton dressed for a trip to town. "He's off early."