“I don’t know. It’s giving me a brainstorm to find out. Can’t blame a man for being on the war path under those conditions. He’s probably the salt of the earth, as your aunt says, and honest as the day is long, but I can’t get over the idea that if we met him on the range in Texas, we’d turn the bull loose on him,” Jim laughed.
“Maybe we would,” Bob admitted, then he grinned, “but you don’t want to forget that you thought the president had your watch.”
“Go on!”
“What’s eating you besides the man’s looks and his reception of us the other day?”
“Not much. It seemed to me that he wasn’t overly anxious to have us come back—”
“Why yes he was—said to come—”
“Any time with your uncle. But when Mr. Fenton said we could come by ourselves and take a look, he said ‘we could see it all in a few minutes.’ Like as not, I’m barking up the wrong tree. Let’s go up early in the morning and see what we can see around the border. I’d kind of like to talk with Bradshaw again. He was real decent and I’d like to know if he located any of that gang yet,” Jim proposed.
“Suits me right down to the ground.”
“We’ve been kind of grounded since we came. Suppose your aunt would mind letting us take a lunch to eat in the air, or some nice place we pick out?”
“Of course she won’t mind. What sort of crab do you think she is?”